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.