The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 24, 1898, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 24, 1898. / 23 HOW TO SUCCEED AS A DETECTIVE "“You Must Have Nat- ural Aptitude,Plen- ty of Brains and an Almost Inexhausti- ble Fund of Perse- , verance.’ By Ex-Chief Thomas Byrnes. O become a successful detective a young man must have, first of 1 natural aptitude; then, plenty of brains, and last, but far from least, an almost inexhausti- ble fund of perseverance. With- out all of these qualifications he may grow to be a satisfactory or even an excellent policeman, but he can never hope to be a successful detector of crime. If a man is cut out for detective < the fact will manifest itself atan e. I don’'t mean t every llow who soaks his mind in ‘detective” literature is a pre- d detec Quite the reverse. is so harmful to a good ca- chosen profession as an intance with trashy works of ive ac- this ber that, when I was a lad, 1 tendencies ran toward in- Ve Although I didn’t know it t that was a good sign for my future success. For instance, neighbor of ours were and d red at irreg- district were divided as r spiteful acquaintances or Ives were in the habit roy well that the own- ers were simple, honest folk hout any enemies; and I also sure that, although one or even two ght be unnatural par- feathered population of would not be likely to mania for egg destruction. e bot 1 me, and for two nights 1 slept in loft, overlooking Holmes.” To a practical detective it is absurd from start to finish. The young man who fancies he could make himself a detective by diligent study of works such as those of Doyle, Gabo- riau or Du Boisgoby is grievously mistaken. ‘The proper study of man- kind is man.” The proper studies of the detective are criminals and crime. Amateur “sleuthing” is somewhat dangerous, but if the amateur be a brainy and discreet youngster he may pick up many points in this way, a eventually work himself into a s 1l position. I would not advis beginning in the offices of minor pri- vate detective agencies. Such “agencie are frequently of a most shady ch and, before he knows it, the yung aspirant ma classed by the police as of crimina instead of being r as a criminal catcher. An instance of this h t ocgurred to me. Not long agc e was an “off-color” private ive agency doing business in New Yc A youth from the country joined it, confident that he was going to make his reputa- tion thereby A few days afterward he was sent out on a mission, which was ing less than a scheme of blackmailing. He was not a stupid youth, and he paused awhile. That pause was hi In the meantime the chief; pre- cious “private detective were serving fourteen-year es for felony. The lucky from the country blessed his stars and has since joined the police force. His w: a narrow escape. Do not understand me as condemn- ing the bona fide detective agencies. Some of them are no doubt good schools for young detectives; although as a rule they prefer old and experi- enced men in their ranks. A a1 D WG 3 the henhouse, on the lookout for a so- lution. The solution came, too. Late on the second night a red Irish setter of our own jumped in through the open window and proceeded to amuse him- gelf by chasing the hens hither and thither, at the same time crushing all the new laid eggs which happened to be beneath his paws. I collared the culprit in short order, and ever after- ward the henhouse window was board- ed up. That was my first plece of de- tectlv k. As to a practical way by which to start upon a detective career I am somewhat in doubt. Perhaps the real truth is that there is no royal road. I myself began as an ordinary police patrolman on December 10, 1863, but it 1s a moot question whether routine patrol work h: its advantages. In one sense it is a detriment, in another a benefit. The man in uniform has little chance of getting to know crim- fnals—a particularly useful possession for the detective. His brass buttons are a warning sign; and all the thieves, bunko men and the like give him a wide berth. On the other hand the patrolman’s life gives a young man habits of disci- pline and obedience. Then, too, a lucky chance may give a patrolman the opportunity of showing certain talents which will win him a place on the regular detective force. During my incumbency of the detective force chiefship it was my habit to keep a sharp lookout for promising young pa- trolmen. If I learned of any such I sent for them and gave them a month’s trial. During the month they had the power and the time to show the sort of stuff they were made of. I believe the same custom is in vogue in the police bodies of ali big American and Euro- pean cities. But let me caution the intending detective to keep away from all fiction professing to describe the pursuit. Even the better class of literature of this kind is harmful, because it is un- true. Take Conan Doyle’s “Sherlock of the pursuing detective. He must ex- pect these obstacles; and if he cannot surmount them, he must find a means of getting around them. As an example, let me give you one of the many embarrassing murder cases which I have sucessfully coped with. On November 2 1885, Antonio Soloa, a Chinaman, whose real name was Ching Ong, was brutally murdered and mutilated in his little restaurant at the corner of Wooster and Spring streets, New York. The murder had been done with the restaurant keeper’s own knife; and the most protracted search of the place revealed no clew as to the murderer’s identity. Soloa, or Ching Ong, had lived many years in Cuba, where he exchanged his Chinese patronymic for a Spanish one, and learned to speak not only Spanish, but also a little French and Italian. In New York he set up a tiny basement restaurant, and throve in a modest way. a It was an exceptionally puzzling case. At first T fancied that the push- cart peddler Daly, who first discovered the dead body, might have been the murderer. But one Coughlin, a resi- dent of Wooster street, had seen Daly €rom the time he entered the street to the time he ran wildly up the China- man’s stairs with the news that An- tonio Soloa had been killed. Coughlin’s evidence cleared Daly. I was disappointed, but I started off on a new tack. The mutilations which had been inflicted upon the body were suggestive of the barbarous East. At once the idea occurred to me that the ugly work had been done by highbind- ers. - The peculiar quiet with which the crime had been carried out also pointed toward a concerted plot of the dead man's treacherous fellow Mongols. I went around among the different Chinese haunts, and had all the trains leaving town watched for suspicious Chinamen. But try as I would I could not fasten the guilt upon any of Soloa’s countrymen. Many of them came to his restaurant; but not a single China- man had been seen in the neighborhood on the day of the Kkilling. Next I sought zealously among So- loa’s Cuban customers, but here, for a time at least, my efforts were equally s. I did not despair. Once more I began at the beginning—made a thor- ough research of the little underground restaurant and instituted minute in- s as to the identity of every per- who had passed along Wooster son and Spring streets on the day of the murder. At last I made a discovery. Some children pl. ng at the next corner had seen a boy pass by the restaurant door at about the time, according to medical evidence, of the killing. I went after that boy with all my energies. All the shops in the neighborhood, all the fac- tori and most of the private houses were inquired at, until, in the long run, I located the much-desired lad. He turned out to be a nervous, timorous child, George Mainz by name, office boy to Willilam Schimper, a mnickel plater. For some time neither Mr. Schimper m f could get much out of 3ut finally he broke down and ed all he knew. Sure enough, as he had passed the corner of Wooster and Spring streets that day he had seen a little man answering the description of Soloa gquarreling with a tall, strong mulatto. The mulatto had a knife in hand, and George had seen him stick the knife into the other’s breast. Then both disappeared down stairs, and the boy, terribly frightened, ran away. He did not tell his employer, because he was afraid that the mulatto would pur- sue and kill him. nor O'Mara, then chief of detectives in Pittsburg. O’'Mara sent to the bank, and a closer investigation developed the fact that the check presented by the two men was a clever forgery. This news was communicated to McTighe, who at once crossed the street to ar- rest the criminals. He met them comin: out of the sa- loon. They were both big powerful men, but M. [lighe was undaunted. ‘Without a word he tripped up the fore- most fellow, so that he tumbled face forward across the floor. Then he Jeaped at the next man’s throat and by sheer force of surprise bore him over. Meanwhile criminal No. 1 had drawn a revolver. McTighe dexterously kicked it out of his hand and planted a stun- ning uppercut at the base of his chin. Criminal No. 2 wi. by this time on his feet and he went for ZIcTighe tooth and nail. But the gallant little detective held on to the fellow’s collar, despite the blews which were showered upon him, while he vlanted himself firmly astride of the prostrate member of the partnership. He had no meansof blow- ing his police whistle, but, fortunately for him, the crowd which had collected attracted a passing policeman, who has- tened to the spot. At first the officer did not recognize McTighe, so bruised and battered was he, but a few words put him in pos- session of the facts, and he lent a hand in arresting the criminals. McTighe had to go to an hospital, but he had the comfort of knowing that he had done his duty like a little man. To the young Getective 1 would say, “Be ready to do as McTighe did when called upon, and don’t wait until you have to be told your course of action, either.’ The young detective, to be really successful, must be an all-around man. Specialists are useful, indeed; but once a speclalist always a specialist in the detective busines: It is the all-around man that ri; It is a sine qua non that the aspir- ant must have a retentive memory for faces. As soon as possible he ought to begin studying the criminals he comes across and the portraits in the rogues’ gallery. By that means he will soon be able to spot a suspicious char- acter on sight. When he sees such a person he ought to keep an eye on him. I don’t mean by this that a genuine- ly reformed criminal should be dogged wherever he goes; but simply that a suspected person, acting suspiciously, uugr]); to be watched. That “preven- tion is better than a cure” has ever been a pet maxim of mine, and by fol- Jowing doubtful characters, detectives may prevent crime. £ Strict attention to business, implicit obedience and absolute temperance— these, too, the young detective must possess, if he would excel. = o Durand and his companion followed and the three ate a hearty supper, the odd one getting away with rather more than his share of the provisions, and made an excuse to disappear just as the meal was over. “Who was your friend?” asked Har- rigan, and Durand looked at him in as- tonishment. “He was no_ friend of mine,” he an- swered, “but I thought he was one of yours.” LOST HIS WIFE on the WEDDING TRIP . NEWLY married couple left Sa- vannah, Georgia, on their wed- ding tour, going first to New Or- leans and then to New York by way of Chicago. The latter city neither of them had ever visited before. Their hotel, the selection of which had been a matter of some discussion, as they wanted the comforts and conven- iences of a large house, with all the privacy of a smaller one, they had finally decided to leave somewhat to chance, so upon leaving the train, they took a carriage to a house—the name of which neither had heard before —it having been recommended by a fellow traveler as quiet and first-clas Arriving there they found a crowd about the clerk’s desk, and, after some delay, the bell-boy by mistake took their bags, etc., and tell- ing them to follow conducted them to rooms. After seeing his wife comfortable, Mr. Brown concluded to take a little walk “to stretch his legs” before dining. On going out he found it snowing, and, the “L"” being a novelty, he took = car, intending to go only a few blocks. Be- coming interested, he proceeded far- ther than he intended, left the car and took one returning, but where to return to he did not kncw. The name of his hotel had left him completely. He called a policeman and shame- facedly to.d him his story. The officer said, “That is all right. What is your name? What hour did your train ar- rive? The hotel register will tell us everything. ‘Hugo Brown, Savannah, Ga.” That's all right.” ““Hold on,” said Brown. “By some devilish error of the clerk or bellboy or in my hurry to get settled I did not register before I went to my room, in- tending to do so after I had seen my wife comfortable, who, by the way, is almost ill, and by this time must be worried to death. I have been out three hours and I told her I would return In twenty minutes.” The policeman secured a list of hotels and Brown was sure it was the Normandie. As soon as he stepped into hotel h. discovered he was wrong. v then tried the Netherlands, and so on, Brown grasping vaguely at the name of his hostelry and cursing him- self roundly. In the meantime Mrs. Brown had be- come nearly distracted. She sent for the clerk and demanded her husband at his hands. The clerk, who immediately thought he saw something wrong in the omission to register, went to his Supposing the young man to have gotten his first start, either in the po- lice or in a first-class private agency, he must then make up his mind that hard work and plenty of it lies before him. That is where the requisite of pa- tience comes in. “It's dogged as does it with the detective. No matter how bright the young man no matter what sort of genius he has for picking up clews and doing the fine work of the profession, if his nature is one of those easily daunted by temporary setbacks, then he had better get out of detective work at once. The “easy things” don’t count—the jobs which any merely cley- er man may accomplish without ex- cessive labor. It is the hard case which wins the lasting reward, and shows the sterling quality of the young detective. You must excuse me bringing up my own career, but you see, I know it best, and can more readily select proofs and evidences of what I am striving to tell you from events in which T took per- sonal part. On dozens of different occa- sions when balked in a given direction, I have forced myself to go back over the ground again and yet again, until finally after many such enueavors I reached the goal I was in search of. Professional criminals are resourceful beings. They have to be, indeed; else they could not thrive ever for a brief space of time. Naturally they manage to throw plentv of obstacles in the way Asked if there was anything remark- able about the mulatto besides his color, the office boy replied that he had “a terrible scar on his left cheek.” With this information I once more turned my attention to the Cuban pa- trons of Soloa. After weeks of seeking, I found out the identity of the man with the scar. He was a Cuban negro named Augusto Rebella, and a member of the secret society known as the “Ni- azzas.” A photograph of the “Nlazzas” had been taken, and of this I secured a copy. George Mainz went over the faces one by one, and at last discovered and identified that of Rebella. Rebella’s comrades in the secret so- ciety did all they could to shield him; but eventually the murder was brought home to him. At Los Dos Amigos cigar fastory, in Washington street, where he worked. I found that on November 2 he had only made 100 cigars, whereas his average daily output had always been 200. Moreover, he was known as a regular patron of Antonio Soloa; and George Mainz identified him on the stand as the man he had seen stabbing the Chinaman. A detective must not know fear. He must be prepared to go into any and every “dive,’’ no matter how unsavory, at the call of duty. That he risks hislife twenty times a day must cut little fig- ure with him. Let him remember that he does so in the public service, and that, unless he does so, he is no true detective. I knew of a little police officer in Pittsburg, Penn. His name is John McTighe. He is of slender build, and little more than 4 feet 11 in height. But he has the daring of a wildcat. Some years ago McTighe saw two sus- picious looking ‘persons on_ Smithfield street in the iron city. He pursued them unostentatiously throughout the day, and at length saw them enter a bank, present a check and emerge with funds. McTighe watched them until they entered a nearby saloon. Then he went into a drug store across the way, whence he could keep an eye on the saloon door, and called up Roger From what I have sald and from the requirements I have laid down as ne- cessary, you will see that not one young man in 100 has reason to serfously con- sider entering the detective field. To that one young man, however, I trust that my words may be of use and in- terest. HIS JOKE WAS ON HARKIGAN ED HARRIGAN tells a good story which may or may not be new to his present day friends. Once upon a time a certain butcher in Truckee started a va- riety show and Ned and Dick Durand went up there to play for him. Through no fault of theirs the show was a fail- ure and the butcher shut up shop, fig- uratively and literally, leaving his as- sistants without a dime in their pock- ets. R So its came about one snowy night the two stood together on a street cor- ner and mutually recognized the fact that they were very hungry, together with the accompanying fact that they had nothing to barter for a meal. Be- sides the clothes which they wore, not asuperabundantquantity byany means, they had only a dilapidated banjo on which no one would advance them any- thing whatever, but at last Harrigan, who was the bolder of the two, went into a saloon and stated the case and was rewarded by the gift of a dollar from a generous gambler. Coming out he found that Durand ‘was no longer alone; but that a tall fel- low in a long overcoat, who had been hovering near them, when they were discussing ways and means, was stand- ing talking with him. ¥ “I've got enough for chops and pota- toes,” he declared, joyously, and led the way into & cheap restaurant. superfors. As Mrs. Brown seemed ill, almost in hysterics, they called a phy- sician, who prescribed rest and a trained nurse. When the next after- noon brought no news of her husband, and nearly out of her mind, she, with the help of some officious women of the house, began to belleve that her husband had deserted her. She tele- graphed to her brother for funds and to meet her in Chicago, paid her bills and, with the trained nurse, started for home. In the meantime her husband had traveled the city like a madman, and, as they learned afterward, went up in the elevator of the house she was just leaving. Her brother, wild with anxi- ety, met her, and immediately asked for Brown. Brown in the meantime had in his despair telegraphed to his wife’s father asking: ‘“Any news of Cora? Wire Chicago.” At the same time as- suring himself that she must have gone home, as the only natural thing to do, he started himself for Savannah. In the meantime the brother had per- suaded Mrs. Brown to return to New York, telling her that it was not possi- ble that her husband should have de- serted her. Filled with an anxiety he carefully concealed from his sister, they started for New York, as it was learned afterward, leaving the station at the same time Brown arrived. Reaching New York they went immediately to the Waldorf, where Simpson registered himself and sister “in a big, round hand.” He had no sooner gotten to his room than the clerk appeared and asked if the Mrs. Brown registered this even- ing was the wife of the ‘“lost Mr. Brown,” as they called him. Being told that she was, the clerk said Mr. Brown left for Savannah yesterday afternoon, whereupon Mr. Simpson telegraphed Brown at Savannah, “Cora with me; return at once.” He then told his sis- ter the state of affairs, and she insisted upon starting that night, but being very tired, and, as the time tables could not be changed to suit her con- venience, she was obliged to wait until the next day. In the meantime a copy of the dis- patch, sent by Simpson, had been for- warded to Brown at Chicago, who, con- struing it to mean that he should re- turn to New York, immediately set out upon his return. Arriving he was told that Mr. Simpson and Mrs. Brown had left for Savannah that morning. Then he telegraphed to his father-in-law: “Hold Cora till I come. Arrive Sat- urday evening train.* RAIDING sPANISH SLAVERS on THE AFRICAN COAST Since the publication in The Call two weeks ago of a story in reference to the slave trade on the west coast of Africa as carried on by the Spaniards, who abused Old Glory in order to protect themselves from English cruisers, nu- merous Inquiries have been made as to the part the United States took in the affair. Did the United States Govern- ment make any attempt to assist the British in putting down this nefarious traffic? “The United States rendered all the assistance that could be expected of her,” Captain Jackson, the author of the previous article, replied, when spo- ken to in reference to the matter. “But the boys in blue were really more eager to put down, the traffic than the Gov- ernment officials. L “But there was a time when an American ship's crew really made one of the biggrst captures that was made while I was on duty on the west coast. And I tell you we had to fight for it. I say ‘we’ because it was a joint expedi- tion and I was one of the attacking party in the small boat. “The Marion had been cruising near the mouth of the Congo and the ar- rangement was that she was to leave for a few days and then come back and we would jointly undertake whatever turned up in the meantime. “During the Marion's absence we cruised about the mouth of the river and purposely allowed two ships flying the American flag to go past us and sall inland. We were almost positive they were slavers, but managed to con- trol ourselves until the proper time. “The fact that the Marion had sailed away from the coast and that my ves- sel, the Antelope, had not molested them, made the slavers bold and they took little pains to conceal their iden- tity. “When the Marion returned the two slave ships had reached the height of navigation on the Congo River and were caught like rats in a trap. We had received information that at least 2000 slaves were on hand ready to be loaded on the two vessels and we were all sure of capturing big prize money. * “Before making the attack on the slavers the Marion and Antelcpe came to anchor off Sharks Point just at the entrance to the river, where the cap- tains of both vessels decided upon a plan of operation. “It was eventually agreed that the Marion, being a sailing vessel, should remain where she was and guard the entrance to the river, while the Ante- lope, being a steamer of good speed, should assume as much as possible the appearance of an American vessel, pro- ceed up the river and capture the slavers. “When all was ready the stars and stripes were hoisted over the Antelope and Second Lieutenant Whiting of the Marion was put in command. This brave officer was the Rear-Admiral “All this we could plainly see through a glass from our sheltered position on the opposite shore. Nothing more was necessary. The attack would be made at once. “It so happened, however, that the slaver's captain became suspicious of something down our w Possibly a wreath of smoke attracted his atten- tion, or it may be that some one ashore had seen us and carried the news to him. At any rate the first thing we knew a boat put out from one of the ships and began pulling down to us. “Lieutenant Whiting made up his mind in an instant, and without wait- iug to launch the cutter, jumped into a dingy, that was tied up near shore, and called for volunteers. There was only room for four, and I was one of them; the other three were Americans. “The wind was just rignt, and in less n five minutes we had our sail up 1 were skimming along to meet the slavers. This sail kept the slavers from seeing our uniforms, and they most likely took us for a party of explorers or detectives. ‘““When within hailing distance Lieu- tenant Whiting ordered the slavers to lay to, but no attention was paid to his command. He repeated it and was vered by a pistol ball that fortu- flew wide of the mark. “‘Fire,” he called to us, and the fight commenced. ‘“There were ten Spaniards in the other boat, and they were as hard look- s ever breathed. Mur- derer was written on every one of their faces. But they couldn’t shoot. “Their first volley went by as harm- lessly as if it had never been fired at all, while ours stretched two of their men out in the bottom of the boat. Two others were wounded. “This scared the others and they started to make an effort to escape. But our sail wa till full of wind and we hove down on them until the two boats bumped together. “It was every man for himself now. Pistols cracked every moment and the air was full of bullets. But our op- ponents could shoot no better at closa range than they could at long. Only one of our men was hurt, but not badly, while we rapidly thinned them out. young fellow in our boat shot a villainous-looking fiend who was just in the act of striking Lieutenant Whit- ing with a saber. His shot had the effect of causing the man to fall over- board, where he struggled for a mo- ment and then sank from sight. “I don’t know how long the fight lasted. It seemed like an hour, but 1 guess it was not over five minutes. I got a crack over the head with an oar that nearly stunned me, but I soon recovered and continued to shoot. The air was full of powder smoke and our boats were slippery with blood. “One slaver, after being killed, fell over into our boat and nearly capsized it. We did not stop to throw him overboard, but kept at the other fel- lows until six of them were, piled in a heap in their boat. “At this stage of the game the slaver . e S il il i ‘Whiting who died a short time ago. A fully equipped cutter and crew from the Marion was detailed for service on our vessel. Of course there was a good deal of growling on the part of -the ‘boys’ who had to remain behind. But this was all made up later on. “As we had been up the river many times before our captain knew every part of it. Consequently we made the best part of the journey at night with lights out, and fortunately had the wind against us so the thumping of our paddles'did not alarm the slavers. When we reached a point where we could see their lights we came to a standstill and then sent lines ashore and laid up for the night behind the shelter of a point of land thickly cov- ered with palms and tropical vegeta- tion. This spot was known as Punta de Lima. “From where we were tied up we could walk along the shore for a short distance and get a plain view of the slavers. Both were big three-masted ships of at least 1000 tons each, which in those days was a monster craft. They made a beautiful picture as they lay on the placid water in the silence of the sultry tropic night. But when we had listened a few moments we found it was not all silence. The sound of a guitar and dancing feet reached our ears, mingled with ribald songs and the clinking of glasses. Slavers always had plenty of money and their side- boards were loaded down with the best to be had. When all was looking well with them wine flowed like water. “Of course nothing could be done that night, but what we had seen had satis- fled us that the slavers had not the least idea of our presence. “It was decided not to make the at- tack until we had seen something that would be incriminati_g. We had not long to wait. Before the sun was an hour high next morning the slavers had begun the work of loading. “‘One part of the crew was sent ashore to get the slaves out of the cor- rals, another took them out to the ships in boats, and a third remained on board to stow them away. “From the first the air was filled with the cries and lamentations of the poor negroes. The slave drivers were not affected, however, for they used the whip on the slightest provocation, and many a poor wretch was carried aboard with his back dripping with blood. Here he was thrust uown into the stifling hold, and if he showed the slightest in- subordination was put in chains. IT WAS EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF NOW. PISTOLS CRACKED EVERY MOMENT @ND THE AIR WAS FULL OF BULLETS. in charge threw up his hands and begged for mercy. The other man who was left did the same. “Just then I happened to look up the river and was horrified to see thres big ships’ boats loaded with men armea to the teeth coming toward us. It looked as if it was all up with us now. ‘*‘Tie those men,’” cried Lieutenant ‘Whiting, quick as a wink, and in a moment both of our prisoners were where they could do no mischief. “ ‘Now fire,” ordered the lieutenant, and wewerefighting again. Bullets flew like hail, but most of them either went by harmlessly or struck the boat, which was soon full of holes.and began to fill with water. We dropped one or two of the slavers, but they would soon have got the best of us if it had not been fer the unexpected. “Just as the slavers were within a hundred yards of us consternation sud- denly seized them. They dropped their ristols and sprang to their oars. They had forgotten all about fighting and turned all attention to escape. “Looking down the river I saw the Antelope coming toward us, with the stars and stripes at her gaff. LA it later I saw a puff of white smoke at her side, and instantly one of the escaping slave boats rose out of the water, broke in two and fell with a splash. The men in the other two boats dropped their oars and held up their hands. “‘Of course, that ended the fight. Small boats came out from the Ante- lope and picked up the men who had been knocked out of the boat that was struck by the shot. The others were taken prisoners, and were soon in irons, carefully locked 'tween decks. “By this time we had reached-the two slave ships anchored in the river, but had no trouble about boarding them. They were deserted by all but the slaves between decks. These were liberated and the captured ships put in charge of prize crews and sent to head- quarters, where they were broken up. *‘Although there was the best of evi- denice of piracy against the slavers, it was decided not to hold them. Accord- ingly thev were liberated with about ten days’ grub and water, on a lonely coast, to make their way back to civili- zation as best they could. “The prize money for the two slavers was divided equally between crews of the Antelope and the Marion. It was a good day's work, and nobody had reason to regret the fact that an Amer- i;z‘n ?mcer had commanded an English ship.”