Once a Week (magazine)/Series 1/Volume 9/The art of thieving - Part 2
THE ART OF THIEVING.
PART II.
Shopwomen who stand behind the counter are frequently surprised to find their pockets picked. They can understand how they can be robbed before the counter, but how they can be plundered behind it is to them a mystery. The thieves call this kind of work “bringing them round for buzzing;” which is the last method of pocket-picking by men that we shall notice here. “Bringing them round for buzzing” is frequently done by women, but much more frequently by men. The “bringers round” go two together; the one is called the “kid,” the other the “wire.” They select a quiet spot in which there happens to be only one female. The kid makes a small purchase and asks for something else, but rejects everything she offers him from behind the counter. The kid then sees something in the shop before the counter which he admires, and asks to look at it. Now the female is brought round, and the buzzing begins. The wire fans her pocket while the kid occupies her attention. Should the wire have a “tumble,” and the victim’s suspicions be aroused, he whips the purse back; and the thieves wont leave the shop, if they can help it, until the woman’s suspicions are soothed and put to rest. If they succeed in making her “sweet,” they will bring her round again and make another attempt to pick her pocket. As soon as ever the wire obtains the prize he signals to the kid by saying “it’s off,” or any sign which they may previously agree upon. They will then complete their trifling purchases, and know, if possible, before they leave the shop whether or not the female has any suspicion of them. Pickpockets do not like this work in a town where they are well known to the police.
“Working to-rights” is a stock phrase among pickpockets. It means that when their evil intentions are detected or suspected before completion, they do their utmost to work back the steps they have taken—trying to make things appear not only that they have stolen nothing, but that they have not made any attempt, and have no wish to do so. They escape many an imprisonment by cleverly “working to-rights.” The same thing is done and the same phrase is used by almost all classes of thieves. Burglars, ship-dancers, and magsmen all work to-rights to avoid detection and punishment.
During the last few years a new kind of thieving in counting-houses and business-offices has sprung up. The name which thieves give to this new style is not known to us; probably there is no name for it except the general one of “office-sneaking.” It is done by men and by girls, both the one and the other, passing themselves off for hawkers of stationery and pens. Both carry a few sharp instruments and a few picklocks at the bottom of their baskets. The man goes separately into the business-office; and if he finds no one in he sets to work immediately, cutting or unlocking what may come in his way. Should any one come in he offers his stationery for sale, and under cover of this tries to get away. These men generally make their attempts during dinner-hour. But young girls are by far the most successful counting-house sneakers. They are always well-dressed, good-looking, and of pleasing address. Well trained to the use of the instruments, which they carry at the bottom of their baskets, they can get through a great deal of mischievous work in a very short time. They do not confine themselves to the dinner-hour, but make their attempts at all hours of the day. The girl always has a stall with her, and indeed so has the man. The stall remains outside; and if the girl stays in the office any length of time, it is a sign that the wire is at work. Then the stall begins to keep a very sharp look-out, and will detain in conversation as long as possible any one who may be about to enter the office. Should a clerk enter the office while the girl is at work, she immediately makes an appeal to his passions in her most fascinating manner, at the same time offering her stationery for sale. Thus, through the clerk’s excitement, she often succeeds in getting away. When the impassioned and impulsive clerk finds out that he has been tricked, he says it was done during his absence in the dinner-hour, and so screens himself and beats his retreat.
There are many ingenious ways of shop-robbing; we shall confine ourselves to the chief methods. Shop-thieves are mostly women: they are well dressed, very civil in their manner, generally have a shawl on their arm and an umbrella in their hand, and go two together, or sometimes in threes. Their purloining spreads or divides itself into three leading branches—robbing the customer, stealing shop-goods, and cheating in money affairs. If a customer is looking at anything, the thief will ask to look at the same; this gives an opportunity for pressing against the lady and picking her pocket. Should they see a lady lay a parcel or a good parasol upon the counter the thief will take it up; and if caught in trying to get off will say: “Really, I beg pardon—I thought it was mine.” Should the party behind the counter exclaim, “Some one has left a parcel here!” the thief will find no difficulty in saying, “That is mine.” Sometimes the thieves will ask to be shown some goods, and when these are spread upon the counter, they will ask to look at some more; and while the shopkeeper fetches the additional articles, the thief steals some of the things which are left upon the counter. The stolen goods are stowed away either in the loose shawl, or a basket which they place at the foot of the counter, so that anything swept from it will fall into the latter. An umbrella is much used to convey stolen goods, such as ribbons and silks. The umbrella, open a few inches, is held in the hand, and the things are dropped into it. A thief will purchase a ball of worsted, pay for it, and go away. The day following they will return, and ask to have the worsted-ball exchanged for another of a slightly different shade; and the unwary shopkeepers will afterwards find that a little only of the returned worsted has been wrapped over a rag-covered cinder, and so the vagabond gets two balls of worsted instead of one. They will take as many articles in their hand as they can get to show “him” or “her” at the door, and then come back with several things short, which they have left in the hands of the stall outside. The thieves always enter the shop when there are most customers in it. Their visits are paid incessantly to new shops, and to fresh proprietors of old shops; but they fight shy of old established shops, the inmates of which are well known to the thieves as being “too deep.”
“Dob-sneaking,” or ribbon-stealing, is very lucrative, and some of the females confine themselves almost entirely to this pursuit; at any rate, the cleverest thieves always aim at the least bulky and most costly goods, which will perhaps be the reason why they call shop-robbing “crushing a nut.” Ribbon-stealing is done by two women. They go into a milliner’s or linen-draper’s shop and ask to look at some ribbon. A drawer full of ribbons is laid on the counter; the wire now, as by accident, lets fall, partly over the box, that very convenient shawl of hers, which hides the work of her wire hand. While the wire is pretending to inspect the ribbons, her companion and stall engages the attention of the shopgirl as much as possible. Then she politely asks to see another assortment of ribbons, and so the trick is repeated as long as they can carry it on. To keep the waiter “sweet,” they will produce a pattern, and say they would rather have some ribbon like it. If the shopkeeper has any like the pattern they purchase some; if not, the game is up, and the thieves walk off with the stolen ribbons. There is a practice among young wandering thieves which they call cotter-holing—drawing by a piece of wire anything they can pull through the cotter-holes, but this is only done at petty shops in small towns. When the thieves get caught in shops, they make desperate efforts to “work back” and “work to-rights.” They will throw the stolen thing anywhere to get it out of sight, but their best dodge is to drop it into the dress or pocket or basket of some honest and unsuspecting customer.
The thieves make a good deal when they go shopping by cheating in money matters. They will purchase some trifle, pay for it with a good sovereign, receive their change and go away. Shortly after they will return to the shop and say that the master has made a mistake in the change, given them half-a-crown for five shillings, or something of that sort; or they will say, “I gave you a sovereign,” when it was in reality only a half-sovereign, and they will press for the change out of a sovereign. Should the shopkeeper resist, they will quarrel, threaten to expose him for cheating them, and say they will never come to his shop again, and no one else shall come if they can help it.
“Bustling” or “bouncing” is a common practice amongst them. Two or three well-dressed women will enter a shop, but not together. It is a frequent practice for thieves working together to appear to be the greatest strangers to one another: they neither by sign nor look recognise each other, but are as cold and distant as if they had never seen one another in their lives before. When the “bouncers” are all in the shop the game begins. One of them will make a costly purchase, spend a long time in looking at something else, and then prepare to leave. “Nothing more to-day, thank you; I paid you for this, you know”—whereas she has not paid for it. The dispute begins, and the thief says, “I gave you such and such a coin” (say a crown-piece); “and if you will look into your till, you will find that very piece.” She then appeals to one or two ladies who happen to be standing near her; and these ladies are sorry to go against the shopkeeper, but they must speak the truth. They certainly saw a crown-piece among the lady’s money, and the shopkeeper put it into the till. He examines the drawer, and is surprised to find that the ladies are right; he begs pardon, and the fraud is completed. The purchasing thief waited until she saw a five-shilling piece put into the till from the payments of another customer; the other ladies saw that five-shilling piece, and this is the explanation of the trick. There is a variation for this trick; they do not always wait until they are asked for payment, but if they have seen a sovereign go into the till, they wait a considerable time, then put a bold face upon it, and ask for the change.
There is another method of cheating shopkeepers in changing money, which is called “palming, or twining or twisting.” This game is carried on to a great extent, and shopkeepers cannot well detect it. A thief once said to me, “When I have been palming, I have often heard the shopkeeper say: ‘You have done something, I am certain, though I can’t tell what it is.’” This is when the palmer has had a tumble, i.e., when, by want of quickness, dexterity, or coolness, he has roused the shopkeeper’s suspicions. “Palming” or “twisting” is worked by two men. One swags all that the palmer purchases, and stays outside to render the “twister” any assistance he may need. Sometimes the swagsman goes into the shop and helps to confuse the shopkeeper by distracting his attention. The palmer begins by making a purchase of some kind. Perhaps he will offer a five-pound note in payment, but a sovereign is the usual thing. If the shopman cannot give him change, or will not because he suspects something, the palmer at once “works to-rights” by saying: “Well, I have no change, but please to wrap the parcel up, and I will call for it presently.” He thus escapes unhurt, and certainly will not call again. Should the shopkeeper have change, and be unsuspiciously willing to part with it, the palmer’s malversation proceeds. If the shopkeeper opens the money-drawer to count the change out and leaves the drawer open, or if he puts a handful of silver on the counter from which to select the change, he is almost certain to be defrauded. The palmer will not let the shopkeeper put the change on the counter if he can help it, but holding out his hand the shopkeeper counts the money into the thief’s palm. Just as the shopkeeper drops the last coin into the palmer’s hand, the thief says, “Oh, I will not deprive you of all this change; now I remember, I have enough small change in my pocket to pay for it.” Then the thief throws the change back into the till or among the money on the counter. But he holds as much of the change as he can between his thumb and the palm of his hand, and this is hidden from the eye of the shopkeeper, because when the thief is in the act of throwing back the change he holds his hand with the palm undermost. The palmed money is secured by the thief at once passing the palming hand into his pocket for the small change of which he spoke. The thief pays in small change, and the sovereign or five-pound note is handed back to him. So he pays the shopkeeper with his own cash, steals money, and gets the article for nothing.
There is a class of money-thieving in shops done by boys. They adopt all sorts of schemes to possess themselves of the contents of the money-drawer, and are called “pimpers, or shakers, or sugar-hunters, or damper-hunters.” They go into some quiet street in a quiet hour of the day. A man enters the shop alone and makes a trifling purchase, which he pays for with such a coin as will compel the shopkeeper to open the drawer for change; this move enables him to see where the till is, and something of what it contains. The man then leaves the shop, goes to the boy and gives him his instructions. The boy waits about until there is no one in the shop; he then tosses his worthless cap behind the counter and goes stealthily in, stopping the bell from ringing if he can. Should the shopkeeper catch the young sugar-hunter, he makes a long face and says a boy threw his cap in, and he has come to fetch it.
The foregoing are the leading manœuvres in shop-robbing, but there are many variations, and the thieves are perpetually inventing additional methods of their black villany. As a specimen of variations take the following anecdote. A man entered a ready-made boot and shoe shop, and desired to be shown a pair of boots,—his companion staying outside and amusing himself by looking in at the window. The one who required to be fresh shod was apparently of a humble and deferential turn, for he placed his hat on the floor directly he stepped in the shop. Boot after boot was tried on until a fit was obtained,—when lo! forth came a man, snatched up the customer’s hat left near the door, and down the streets he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Away went the customer after his hat, and Crispin, standing at the door, clapped his hands and shouted, “Go it, you’ll catch him!”—little thinking that it was a preconcerted trick, and that neither his boots nor the customer would ever return.
There is but little variety in the methods of plundering warehouses by thieves in the day-time. These warehouse thieves are called “warehouse sneakers.” They have either been at warehouse work themselves, or else they have watched it very closely. Dressed exactly like warehouse porters, a man and boy, or two men or two boys, enter the building and coolly shoulder the first likely parcel they can see, and walk off with it: should they be caught, they give the name of some business firm as their employers, and suppose they must have made a mistake by coming to the wrong warehouse. The police very seldom detect these men, because it is such a common thing for them to see working-men, dressed as porters, carrying parcels about the streets. Akin to the “warehouse sneak” is the “drag sneak.” The latter will keep a horse and cart of his own, if possible, and gets his miserable living partly by robbing carriers’ carts or plundering luggage stations. But these men would not succeed as well as they do if they did not meet occasionally with porters and drivers of carriers’ vans who are as bad as themselves. A watch-boy with the van is not always a sufficient guard. Some excuse is made to get him out of the way for a short time, and in his absence the drag-sneak brings his cart alongside the van, takes what he wants, and drives off.
There is one infamous method of thieving in the streets which we scarely know how to describe without offending against delicacy, and yet it is a danger of which the public should be made aware in some way or other. No account of the diabolical practice has yet been published, though men are robbed of thousands of pounds every year by this method, which is called “picking up.” Now and then the truth half comes out in the police reports, but never entirely so. Some time ago the “Saturday Review” had an article on this very subject, although, for anything that appeared in the well-written paper, the writer merely discussed an instance without knowing anything of the system to which it belonged. A young gentleman, according to the “Saturday Review,” was travelling to London. A lady entered the same carriage, and bade with much distress an elderly gentleman adieu. The young gentleman endeavoured to cheer the disconsolate lady, and as they were alone in the carriage, he tried to make himself agreeable. When they reached the terminus, the young gentleman called a cab for the lady, when he found his hat suddenly knocked over his eyes, and by the very man of whom the lady had taken such sorrowful leave far down the line. Money was demanded of the young gentleman, and he paid smartly to get out of the scrape. This “picking-up” system abounds in every large town, and is greatly on the increase. The case of the gentleman in Dublin who was decoyed for a minute or two into an entry by a woman, and there robbed of a large sum, will be fresh in the recollection of most readers. A woman is always the principal actor in these cases, and she is called the “picking-up moll.” She is always good-looking and well-dressed, passing neither for a girl of the streets nor for a decorous and modest woman, but aiming to appear something between the two. She is always accompanied by a man, who is called the “stick or bludgeon.” Some “picking-up molls” are so successful that their paramour does not attend them, but pays another man for doing it. In this case the paramour is called the “master stick.” It is literally true, however much the public may be astounded at the information, that there are men in large towns who are paid fixed and regular wages for their services as working-sticks for the “picking-up molls.” We feel the difficulty and delicacy of explaining this matter, but the system has become so terribly successful that some one must speak out upon the subject. The woman passes quietly along the most respectable streets, at such hours as will be most likely for gentlemen to be abroad. She will pass by all ordinary persons; but when she sees an apparent gentleman, who may be well-to-do in the world, she will put herself in his way and endeavour to attract his attention. Perhaps she succeeds, and he accosts her. She will lead him on to some quiet street, where they stand conversing. Now she professes virtue and modesty, and while the gentleman is conversing with her she robs him of all he has. Her stick up to this time has kept out of the gentleman’s observation. The woman gives the man the signal that she has secured the plunder; the stick then rushes up and commences abusing the gentleman—perhaps knocks his hat over his eyes, accuses him of unlawful conversation with his wife, and threatens to fetch a policeman. By this ruse the gentleman is alarmed, and will part with all he has got, rather than be dragged ignominiously to a police-court. Perhaps they will follow the gentleman home, demand his name and address, and hold the threat of an action over his head as long as they can get a sixpence from him. When family-men occupying respectable positions in society are caught in this net, they will pay almost anything to escape exposure. Those who so far forget what is due to decorum as to converse with strange women in the streets are often obliged to pay very dearly for their indiscretion. These “picking-up molls” are quite a separate class from the “pretty horsebreakers,” and the stick, or man who accompanies them, is a different class of thief from either the “bug-hunter or bloke;” the former making it his business to rob drunken men, and the latter (the bloke) snatches in a violent manner watches, parcels, or baskets, and clumsily runs for his safety. “Bug-hunters and snatchers” are few in number compared with “sticks.”
The robberies effected on Sundays, and generally in church hours, are of two sorts: the first is accomplished by making love to the servant-girls. One of the better-looking young thieves will begin courting one of the servant-maids at some house which has been marked by the thieves for plunder; and this courting will sometimes be continued for two or three months before the thieves can succeed. They generally get the servants out for a walk, or the courting is going on in one room while the thief’s companions are rifling the other rooms, the suitor making the kitchen-lady presents of finery, to keep her “sweet.” Some thieves had a house in hand for a long time, and at last succeeded one fine Sunday morning while the family were at church. They took all they wanted, and got clear from the house. A day or two afterwards an account of the housebreaking appeared in the papers, to the effect that when the family returned from church the servant-girl was found bleeding and insensible. When she came to herself she informed them that some naughty men broke into the back-yard, and when she told them to go away, they carried her into the house, where they struck her to the ground, and she could remember nothing afterwards. At this newspaper report the thieves were very angry, for they said it was untrue. They declared that Satan entered into her and told her what to say, for they never hurt her, but that she, finding herself in a mess, made her own nose bleed, to save herself with her mistress. Servants should beware, for there are always thieves ready to make love to them; and when they have got what they want, “my lady” of the kitchen sees her love no more. So
Ladies all, beware of your knights,
For they love and they ride away.
The other kind of Sunday robbery is called “sounding.” The thieves knock at doors during church hours; if nobody answers, they know that nobody is in. Should any one answer the door, the thief asks for a glass of water, or would they be kind enough to tell him in what part of the street Mr. So-and-so lives? But we must not omit to say that houses are frequently watched for several Sundays together; and when the habits of the inmates are ascertained, the thieves take their measures accordingly.