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ALISYHAAINN

SaLIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA |
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PRESENTED BY

 

MRS. H, ©, HESSETHE LOOM OF THE LAWTHE
LOOM OF THE LAW

STEVENSON — PUBLISHERS
FOREST HILL AVENUE, SARANAC LAKE, N. Y.Copyright, 1923,

By STEVENSON—PuBLISHERSTO THE MEMORY OF
THE LATE PROFESSOR

Ohavles Francis BostwickAUTHOR’S NOTE

Joe Cook, in this story, is a regular he man. He is alive
to-day; strong, healthy, active and disgustedly wealthy. The
scenes in the story are not imagination but fact.

True Americanism and unjust criticism of our political
institutions does not go hand in hand. America with its
melting pot is the greatest country in the world. No one
should criticize our political system and at the same time
call himself a true American. Such a critic is a hypocrite.

Some of the material in this story was collected by the
late Professor Charles Francis Bostwick with whom I was
associated for many years in the District Attorney’s office in
New York County. Professor Bostwick was the author of
the well known and universal legal manual known as “Bost-
wick’s Lawyer’s Manual,” and many other legal treatises.

‘This story is respectfully submitted to my readers not as a
protest of mine against our Judiciary but simply as the ex-
periences of Joe Cook, a strange and unique character.

October 21st, 1923.THE LOOM OF THE LAWTHE LOOM OF THE LAW

CHAPTER |

TYGIAN darkness enveloped the small cabin located
S in the hills of nature, to whither spot they had camped.

The beautiful and mighty Hudson River loaned its
silence to the scene. The cabin lay on the outskirts of the
over-crowded City of New York, more particularly known
as Hastings. The unusual gusts of wind that passed around
the cabin gave them a feeling of insecurity. “They huddled
closer to the fire they had just made, with their feet and
their hands extended in an effort to warm the chill that
penetrated their bodies. For a long while they sat thus,
without a glance or a word being exchanged. ‘The silence
was at last broken by the taller of the two.

Joe Cook was so tall and thin that his clothes hung from
him, and his trousers bagged all over him, making him a
sight to look at. His gruesome appearance did not represent
his intelligence, however, for Joe Cook was born of good,
honest parents, educated in the most refined way, religiously
instructed according to his faith, and had a strong voice that
was an inspiration to the choir in the church in which he
sang. The brand was there in spite of wreck and ruin.

He was now but a shadow of his former self. Moving
uneasily he broke the silence with an unsteady voice:

“I hate these rough-necks that you get for me to work
with on my jobs. The next time I send you looking for
somebody to help us, please keep away from that rough type
of criminals. I don’t want the square-jawed, rough looking
fellows to help us along. You know the kind I want.2 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

 

Haven’t I been telling you time and again that the fellow
that makes the hit and makes the get-away 1s the immacu-
lately dressed and pleasant appearing lad; they very seldom
arouse suspicion by their conduct.”

The man he was addressing, whose name was Frank
Staco, was an Italian-American, brought up, as it were, in
the gutters of New York City, with little or no education
except that which he received in the reformatories, truant
schools, and penitentiaries. He represented the vicious type
of a criminal—short, stumpy, squat, broad-shouldered, big
head, square-jawed and tough looking in contrast with his
idol and master; he was the first word in strength—the prim-
itive man.

‘Joe’s accomplice looked up from the fire to the face of
his idol, which was aglow like crystal, reflecting the flames
from the fireplace; for indeed, Joe was to him an idol.

“All right, Joe,” was his slow response. “Trust me never
to make another mistake.”

Joe Cook found relief in this answer of his accomplice ;
walked up and down the room, opened the door lightly, lis-
tened for a moment, then returned to his seat.

“This deserted cabin is a good place to come to when
one is all worked up and things go wrong,” said the master
mind. “If we had not come to this place every sleuth in the
police department and every would-be sleuth would still be
watching us. That job of ours could have been a neat one;
now see what it’s brought us to. That dub you got was
so scared when I gave him the signal to start his machine
that he became all of a sudden paralyzed. I could have
killed him on the spot, and I could have killed the ‘copper’
who leveled his revolver at us and gave us the grab. Yes,
and the police court judge made our bail so stiff that it would
have taken a Wall Street broker to raise the money, were it
not for the ‘King.’ The ‘King’ raised the bail for you
and me, and that’s why we’re here to-night.

“And why is it that the ‘King’ has so much confidence in
me—why is it that he always gets me and my accomplices
out on bail no matter how stiff the bail might be? TI tell
you,” he continued, without waiting for an answer, “because
the law is a farce, government a pack of lies like the les ofTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 3

religion, and the courts are subservient to his tricks with
pertect knowledge of the part they are playing, and only
inirequently playing the ‘King’s’ game unknowingly. Every
man has his price from the highest paid public servants down
to the lowest. With one man the price might be women;
with another it might be booze, and with the last the con-
sideration might be money in its highest form. The ‘King’
corrupts them all and knows his men and picks them and
pays them according to their price——_”

“But our high bail,” interrupted the listener, ‘what
chances he takes!’

“There is no such word in my dictionary.”

‘But, does he always trust you and isn’t he afraid that
sometimes you may skip and leave him flat on the bail 2”

Joe hesitated before answering. It looked for a moment
as if the question would remain unanswered, but he con-
tinued: “Yes,” slowly, “it is sort of a bargain with us that
we should never skip our bail. Respect for law and order
depends upon the rulings and decisions of our Courts, and
when I see that I can beat the law nine times out of ten,
why should I keep myself in order—the courts are subservi-
ent to me and not I to the courts. The ‘King’ fixes the
price, | pay it and the law takes it. Just keep your eyes
and ears wide open and you'll see things that would cure
the blind and the deaf, but above all things, keep your
mouth shut.”

Frank Staco listened with all the intensity and serious-
ness with which a schoolboy would listen to his schoolmaster.
Stupid and slow of speech, it took the criminal nearly two
minutes to digest what he had heard.

“Well, I ain’t to blame. I told the guy to start his car
the minute you jumped in. When I hit the old guy on the
head and took his payroll bag I thought we was fixed this
time with plenty ot dough, but I guess our luck’s got to
change once in a while.”

“Now, see here, Frankie, please don’t mention money to
me any more. I told you quite often that I don’t always
expect the money. With me the money part is only inci-
dental. If a man shows courage, that’s all I expect. My
rage against society is not for the sake of money alone. So-Lage d)

   

4 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

ciety has cheated me—I am nothing but grease to help them
turn their wheel of life—I am selecting the only way I know
to revenge myself on them. You know very well that it is
easy for us to commit crime, that we get caught once in a
while, and that just as often as we get caught, any time I
choose I can just make society look foolish by turning the
wheels of justice the other way.”

“T get you,” snarled the rough individual, “but what gets
me is this wad that passed us up only because a wop chauffeur
stalled his car and gave the coppers a chance to stick us up
before we made a getaway—and caught with the goods,
too.”

“Quite so,” replied the master criminal, “but I guess we
will call it a day and a night and take to our cots for some
Rest.

With the fire still flickering, throwing red crystals around
the fireplace of the air-tight cabin, these two fugitives turned
in for the night, with nary another word.CHAPTER, 1

City of New York, was dark and sinister as its

name implied. ‘The street slouched off in a westerly
direction, and was in the heart of the business and residential
section. It was one of the old landmarks of architecture,
and was the left angle of a triangle.

Among the lawyers whose shingles adorned the plate glass
of the many stores taken by the attorneys and counselors
at law for the conduct of their business was that of David
Bang. Of late it had become the custom to rent stores for
law offices; and whenever a vacant store appeared opposite
or near a court house it was turned into a law office. ‘The
law office store of David Bang was not the most conspicuous
on Shady Street; but the most conspicuous lawyer on that
street was David Bang.

He came to be known as the “King’’; in time that was
the form of address used by his clients of the underworld
and all who knew him personally.

The clients who retained David Bang were all of the
underworld. He guaranteed “turnouts” in the same con-
vincing manner as a jeweler guaranteed gold to be four-
teen karat. And, in the underworld, David Bang always
“delivered the goods.”’ And he was christened “The King”’;
for a king is mighty, and always gets what he is after.
It is only results that count.

David Bang, the King, was one of nine children. He
was born in a tenement house over on New Bowery—in the
Borough of Manhattan, City of New York, in an apart-
ment consisting of three rooms. In the daytime the rooms
were termed front-room, dining-room, and bed room, re-
spectively; in the night they were all bed rooms. ‘Three
would sleep in a bed, sometimes four in one double bed.

But that didn’t prevent him from becoming a lawyer. In

5

Scr STREET,” in the Borough of Manhattan,THE LOOM OF THE LAW

the United States of America the only obstacle to education
is death. Being born in poverty gives one ambition and not
pessimism.

Into this street two figures were seen walking on a dark
night. They halted in front of a low brick building the
eround floor of which had been altered to correspond to a
store. A large plate glass window was the only thing that
made the house look businesslike. The other part of the
building had not been touched since it was built, probably
a century ago, and bore the earmarks of respectable life
within. Our two friends were none other than the two
criminals who retreated to the mecca of sunshine and fresh
air only a week before.

The shorter of the two pulled an old-fashioned lever from
the woodwork, thus ringing a bell. On the floor above
a big head, supported by a heavy frame, was seen to pro-
trude from the window with the words almost simultane-
ously echoing its ‘“‘Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” was the reply.

A sudden identification seemed to take place, the head
disappeared and immediately thereafter a side door—not the
one leading into the store—but the one leading into the hall-
way, was opened.

“Hello, Sis,” was the cordial greeting from Joe.

“Hello, Slim. Come right upstairs.” Led by the fat tall
one, whose every step seemed to take root on the stairs, they
slowly followed. One flight of steps, and the woman disap-
peared into what seemed to be an apartment or flat, alive
with the barking of dogs.

Joe and Frank proceeded to another flight of steps, thus
bringing them to still another flight and to the top of the
house. Joe led the way to the front, opening the door, and
joined a party seated in front of an electric fireplace. The
room was dark, but with this emblazoned artificial light the
parties could see each other plainly.

“Hello, King,” was Joe’s cordial greeting.

“Hello?” from the man in the bathrobe. “Sit down,
boys.” As if by prearrangement there were two other chairs
beside the fire, which were soon occupied.

Cigarettes were passed around by the host. His short,THE LOOM OF THE LAW 7

grizzly hair was all tangled up, and his pale face reminded
one of a death mask. The little stub nose was barely vis-
ible, in spite of the reflection given by the fire. His bright,
black, straight eyes looked sideways at one.

“Well,” started the figure in the bathrobe, “the test has
come, boys. If I get you out of this scrape I am sure that
my compensation will be ‘long live the king!’ Now, let’s
see what is going to confront us to-morrow in the police
court.”

“You know!” broke in Joe.

A laugh greeted this remark.

“You boys, and all the other boys and girls who come
to me know that they don’t have to worry about beating
their cases if they do as I say; and when you boys do as I
say the result is always as I prophesize. We both agree that
every man has his price, be he president, judge or jury; only
the price in this case will be a little stiff. We have got to
stiffen + out more than one. Now, for instance, there’s the
copper * that grabbed you two fellows. When he grabbed
you two fellows and the chauffeur of the automobile—and
of course we must take care of that dub chauffeur—the
auto had gone several blocks from the scene of the holdup.
And there is that other witness, that good citizen who saw
the whole thing. But we are going to forget him; we don’t
need him.”

“IT see,” remarked Joe. “It’s the mistaken identification
for us.”

“Yes,” chimed in the King. “Mistaken identification;
autos got mixed up in fast, heavy traffic, and the auto
that he grabbed or stopped ain’t the one that done the job.
Of course the good citizen will probably say that it is, but
there will be quite a contradiction, and nobody can be held
on such a contradiction.”

“But the collapsible hand-bag that we stole; what about
that ?”—this from Joe.

“That don’t matter. “That was found a block away, and
it was real smart of you to drop it before being caught. It
would have been a little harder and would have required a

 

1 Stiffen—to bribe; corrupt; fix.
2 Copper—policeman.8 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

little more thought and attention if the bag was found in
the automobile.”

“How much does he want?” inquired Joe, “for the testi-
mony which will clear us?”

“Rive thousand dollars,” from the grizzly man in the
bathrobe.

“Put it through!” replied Slim. “We will get it in the
next twenty-four hours. We haven't got a cent now.”

“All right,” said the King; “my promise to a copper is
a pledge; and you know I do business with every damn’ one
of them, and having been on the square with them all these
years is what makes me the one that they will trust best.”

The two criminals tilted back in their chairs, sighed, and
each lit another cigarette. It was as if they were taking
all their troubles and heaving them into the ocean; like
the woman who forces her presence upon disinterested people
to unload her troubles just to get a sympathetic “yes” or
cs )

“Say,” started Joe, “I hope it ain’t like that other one
that you had with us, when I had that light-fingered artist
working with me, when we went through a department
store and got away with everything that the shoppers had
in their pocketbooks. You remember that one, don’t you?”

“An accident,” said the King, “but we put it through
anyway.”

“Ves, but look at the extra money we had to pay.”

“Everything would have gone smooth if that Inspector
had not come looking in at court. Somebody passed the
word to the Inspector, and naturally he came in looking
for his bit.2 His subordinate got shaky and nervous and
refused to go through with his perjured testimony in the
presence of his superior officer. After I stiffened out the
Inspector it was only a nod and a smile from the Inspector
that told our friend ‘copper’ that all was well. How he
did then run through that story.”

“Yes,” from Joe, “after he got through with his testi-
mony he almost convinced me that he was telling the truth—
I almost believed he had made an honest mistake. ‘The
judge kept continually asking ‘And you lost sight of your
3 Bit—division of spoils,THE LOOM OF THE LAW 9

suspects for two whole hours’ and the copper kept saying
‘Yes, Judge, honest, I only arrested these men because they
looked very much like the men I had under observation.’ ”

“Don’t forget,” broke in the King, “that you two boys were
tollowed and they watched each and every performance,—
every time you lifted a pocket and made an extraction they
saw you do it. It was the hardest thing in the world for
me to have you boys discharged when you were caught so
dead right, and in that case the detectives had to lie their
heads off and make themselves look ridiculous and foolish.
I made them say what they did, and of course they said
nothing about the three thousand dollars that they found
on your person.”

“By the way,” interposed Joe again, “what happened to
that drunken English nobleman that we robbed near the
water front, after having had a taxicab take him to his wrong
destination ?”

“We have heard nothing from him since. He shouted
a great deal after you boys were discharged, and said he
didn’t care so much about the $50,000 worth of bonds that
were taken from him as much as he did for some love
letters that he missed.”

“Well, I guess we'd better be going,” said Joe. “Our
case comes up to-morrow, and we have not much money left,
so I guess we'll blow,* and go and dig it up.”

4 Blow—take our departure.CHAPTER III

HE King escorted them to the door, and after hearty
handshakes, the two desperadoes passed out of the
apartment.

The man behind walked back to his fireplace and medi-
tated quite seriously. He had a big job on his hands for
the next day. For the past fifteen years, with the aid of a
lawyer’s license, he had defied Bar associations, honest and
dishonest judges and had achieved singular success in acquit-
ting any undertaking he had put his mind to. His reward
was money. Other lawyers were mystified at his success.
Apparently he had undertaken the most serious and blackest
criminal cases, and had done his work in an underhand and
crooked way, which astonished even those with whom he
dealt.

He never feared investigation, but went about his work
fearlessly and boldly. In almost every case he had
charged stupendous fees. Of these he had kept about one-
fifth, the balance of the fees going to those who helped him
in this daring juggling of the truth. His reputation in the
underworld—if there is such a world—was one of supreme
confidence. He never made a promise that he did not keep,
and if he ever told any of his thieving clients that they
would get out of it they always did.

An honest lawyer could not stand up with his methods
either as a competitor, and certainly not as a matter of
ethics. All his business was done with the policeman in
the case, with whom he would hold secret meetings, at that
very fireplace at which he was now meditating. The judge
who happened to preside at the trial was at the beck and
call of this manipulator of the truth. The judges did as
they were bid, and if their price was not political considera-
tion at the hands of their political leader (all judges being
politicians), it was something else.

Footsteps interrupted his dreams, and a tall, heavy-set man

IOTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 11

opened the door boldy, walked up to one of the chairs with
a greeting and sat down.

“Well, King, I am here on time—in fact, a little earlier
than I expected to be.”

~ Yes, A———,, I have been expecting you. I have been
thinking how we can work that stunt to-morrow.”
“And the money?” asked A———.

That's all right,”

“Well, out with it. Anything you say I’ll do. What is
it this time that you want me to do—stand on my head to
get these fellows out?”

“No,” replied the King, “you will have to stand on your
feet this time.”

‘The detective knit his brows and tried to look serious.
Detectives always try to look serious. A was the name
used by the “King” in addressing him. As for the “King”
he was so christened by Joe and the title came to be a by-
word in the world of crooks.

“T ain’t never failed you yet, have I, King?” queried this
eficient guardian of the law, “and I ain’t agoin’ to, no mat-
ter how you insult me, see!”

Having thus gained his point to his own satisfaction at
what he considered clever repartee, he stretched out his two
immense legs, and leaned back in the soft cushioned chair,
thus accentuating his victory. “Say, King,” he continued,
“these boirds are dangerous. ‘They'll croak every copper
that stops them from working, and .

“And,” interrupted the King, “the fault will lie with
fellows like you that demand desperate prices to get them
out of trouble.”

“Hell,” responded the detective somewhat heatedly, “Ain’t
they worth it?”

“Yes,” assented the King, “but it makes them more des-
perate in crime, more desperate in courage, and no respect
for the police.”

“Tt works both ways, kid, when we kin kill on sight too,”
replied the detective.

“But, my dear fellow,” said the King, still eager to
pursue the subject, “they hate the cops worse than snakes.

They ee12 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“Now, none of that, King,” angrily replied the detective,
‘“what youse is tryin’ to do is lower my prices; a minute
ago youse agreed, and now youse is clever to git me nervous
to a lower stake. I can’t do it. .I must whack up with
my captain. He’s onto the game and wants me to split
fifty-ffty with him. And,” continued the detective, sud-
denly getting bold in his excitement, “when it comes to graft
and hatin’ the courts and the laws they got nothing on us.
You split the fee with me, I split with my partner and some-
times the Lieutenant, and you split your end with the poli-
ticians and judges. If our work is dirty, yours ain’t much
sanitary, is it?”

The King nodded in assent. “I only come in on what is
left over and sometimes that’s little enough.”

“But,” replied the detective, “the politicians get too much
for their bit.”

“T know, but they’re worth it.”

And that was the reason why the King always met with
success in his dirty, underdog work. His success was attrib-
uted to cleverness and ability but it really amounted to little
else than pre-arranged scenes, fixed testimony, fixed actors
and the aid of judges who were, in spite of their honesty, in-
different in their attitude and in their work.

“We're wasting precious time, ‘A————’; better get
down to rehearsal.”
‘““A————.” began:
“I was coming down Broadway at 7:40 P. M. on the
day of ————, and when I reached ———— street

I heard shouts of ‘Police, Police.’ With difficulty I traced
the spot where the noises came from and when I got to
street, I saw a man lying prostrate on the ground
and bleeding from his head. Someone yelled to me that two
men did it and got away in an automobile. I ran two
blocks up to ———— street and saw an empty automobile.
‘Two men had run into a tenement house and I was about
to run in after them when these two prisoners came out.
I placed them under arrest.”
“Now,” broke in the celebrated lawyer, “to do us any
good your story will go this way:
““T was coming down Broadway at 7:40 P. M. on theTHE LOOM OF THE LAW a

day of ———— and when I reached ———— street

I heard shouts of ‘Police, Police.’ I saw two men pounce
on a third man and saw the third man fall. The two men
jumped into an automobile, with me after them. Traffic
was heavy and the car disappeared. Two blocks away I
saw a deserted car and saw two men coming out of a hall-
way. I arrested them and in my excitement accused them
of the crime. ‘They denied they knew anything about it; I
cannot identify the car or the men. I don’t believe the
men looked like the ones I saw commit the assault and rob-
bery. The car was a stolen car and we have the owner
for it. “These two men said they never saw the car and
could not even drive one. I arrested them on suspicion only,
hoping to connect them with the crime, but have so far
failed.”

“Now, don’t forget,” admonished the King, “‘it is neces-
sary for you to remember every word of it.”
“And I will too.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”CHAPTER IV

in the hands of the King, all would go well with

them; that the morrow would wash all their troubles
away, and like the hectic rays of the sun brightens everything
after a rainstorm, so it would also shine upon them.

Prohibition was now in force and Joe felt it badly. “No
saloon, Frankie, where a fellow can get a bracer. Imagine
what inspiration a few whiskies could give us. It might lead
us into a bank, a rich man’s home or if there was enough
money in the cash register we could stick up the saloon.”

They were now walking west on 42nd street and had
reached ‘Tenth Avenue.

“T know where we can get a deck or two, that ought
to give a fellow a lift,” said Frankie.

“Tf it’ll be good ‘snow,’ Frankie, take me there quick.”

“What’s your hurry?”

“Got an idea, my boy. With plenty of snow up your
sniffer a fellow with your physique and strength ought to
put Samson to shame.”

“What’s up, Boss?”

“Frankie, youw’re going to carry a safe on your back laden
with gold. ‘Then we can pay our bills in the morning—
counsel fees, graft and still have something left—this job
will i

“Here we goes, Boss... Fat Annie’s—she lives up
here,” interrupted Frankie, “she’s married to a strong man
who believes in light work.”

‘What is his business up there?”

“He takes charge of the money—Annie does all the
sellin’.”

Frankie led the educated rogue through a dark hallway
that opened into a rear house—the old-fashioned rear houses,
two stories in height with little or no stairways.

14

le and Frankie were convinced that, with their affairsTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 15

They climbed a flight of stairs and in the darkness Frank
raised his hand as if groping for something and finding a
wall, rapped three times. The signal was answered by noisy
bolts being loosened and a door in the darkness opened.
They were allowed to enter the door, the same being opened
by a large-framed man with no teeth and a bare head. He
wore an army flannel shirt with regulation puttees and
khakis.

‘Howdy, boys, come in, the gang’s all here.”

Joe Cook’s eyes were almost hanging out of their sockets
as he gazed about him. ‘There were innumerable chairs
around several large tables—about forty of them—and all
occupied. “The room was arranged like a dance room. A
joyous feeling crept over Joe, for this was a boot-legger’s
den. ‘There were many fashionably dressed persons in the
crowd—no doubt drug fiends— who had to resort to secret
methods of obtaining their drugs.

Joe Cook grabbed Frankie by the arm.

“Here, let’s sit down right here,’ and led Frankie to a
corner of the room where he could observe all and yet not
be observed directly. ‘The seats or chairs brought him and
his pal right up against the ante-room which was a sort of
bar room. Joe could observe the mixing of the drinks and
in particular the cash register.

Annie, the bar-maid, was short, fat and ugly of appear-
ance and was addressed by her customers as “Boss.” Ap-
parently she was boss. She collected as she served the drinks
and narcotics and in passing into the ante-room Joe observed
her hand over the bills to her husband and deposit the change
into the cash register. She had that much confidence left in
her man that she could trust him with this money.

Joe’s eyes lit all around the large room. The crowd was
well saturated with booze. Here and there a noisy couple
would show the effects of the self-inflicted intoxication. An-
nie seemed to pay all sorts of compliments to a couple who
had a table directly in front of Joe—a cadaverous, sallow
faced youth, immaculately dressed with his hair parted in
the center and brushed back neatly—to his right a tall dark
lady with a smart costume who looked as pretty as a picture
in colors. The man was drinking whisky; likewise the16 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

lady. The man wore a diamond stick pin in his cravat and
a three-stoned diamond ring on his left hand ring finger.

Joe, who was all eyes and ears, noticed Annie, in passing
him call him “Sweetie” and kiss him on the forehead. An-
nie’s husband standing close by at the ante-room would
always smile when Annie called out “Sweetie” as if in en-
couragement.

“Sweetie” was their best customer; that Joe could readily
see.
After the first three drinks, “Sweetie” (his actions suited
his nickname for he seemed to be free, easy and generous
to the extreme) became very tired. It appeared to Joe that
the woman might have played some badger game on him
and he concentrated his attention on the couple. ‘“Sweetie’s”
body seemed all of a sudden to sink—his right hand was
fidgeting into the inside of his sack coat and he extracted
what appeared to be at first sight a cigarette case. It turned
out however to be something else.

* Patsys:

“Yes, Sweetie.”

“Some water.”

Patsy, the beautiful, cool and not a bit excited at the scene
called out to Annie for some warm water.

The word “warm water’ sort of acted as something
needed instantly and Annie darted into the ante room and
as quickly returned with a glass of hot water, the vapor
testily accentuating its heat. The cigarette case now took
the form of a surgical case when opened. ‘Sweetie’ ex-
tracted an instrument well known to the eyes of Joe Cook.
Habit and wrecked nerves had often made it necessary for
Joe to climb the same hill. As “Sweetie” filled his instru-
ment with the squish, squish of the water preparatory to
loading it with the degenerating drug, Joe saw his whole
past life swim by him. In one way or another, every human
must pay his price thought Joe. “I paid mine,” he murmured
to himself, “and I wonder what that poor boob’s finish
will be—”

Joe was awakened from his philosophizing when he saw
“Sweetie” dig the needle into his left arm and press the other
end into service. Almost immediately thereafter and withTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 17

a sudden movement the body of “Sweetie” shot up and
straightened out. The strength that springs from good
health returned and made its mark. ‘The transformation
was as swift as it was complete.

Without ceremony or introduction of any kind “Sweetie”
suddenly became boisterous. He announced that he would
present to the best songster, “my new diamond stick pin.”

Shouts of “Good for you” greeted this announcement
from throughout the den, and with a feeling that the reward
was secure, the room echoed with a variety of song.

Joe had had good breeding at one time. His heart, soul
and mind were concentrated on the lovely girl with the
drug fiend and he felt a great pity for her. Her nervous-
ness was intense. She moved about in her chair as if she
were sitting on tacks and yet for some reason dared not
get up.

What could be her relation to this man—lover, sister or
wife. None of these three suppositions appealed to Joe.
Yet he must have some sort of control over her to make
her so quiescent.

His thoughts were again interrupted by ‘“‘Sweetie” throw-
ing the diamond stick pin to a tough looking individual, thus
proclaiming him the winner of the contest. The stick pin
was caught by the recipient as it receded from its height and
immediately applied in the new wearer’s cravat. ‘‘Sweetie”
then extracted a roll of bills and handed several of them
around to the songbirds who had failed to win first prize.

Somebody was wriggling and making an effort to pass
Joe. With a start Joe realized that there was one other
spectator as observant as himself. It was Frankie, the wop.
Frankie was on his feet and since his body was wedged
against the wall by Joe’s chair he had to use physical force
in an effort to extricate himself. But his plan was quickly
realized by Joe and as quickly frustrated. Joe grabbed
him violently and threw him back against the wall and into
his seat.

“Damn fool, not here—you’d never get out alive. We'll
get that money; now sit down and behave or I'll beat your
brains out.” Frankie, thus cowed, sat down quietly enough.
Failure of purpose was written all over his face.18 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“We'd get away all right with all this excitement goin’
on,” he managed to mumble.

“Perhaps,” responded Joe, “but the stake isn’t high
enough yet. Furthermore, we must take no extra chances
now. Our adjourned cases come on in the morning. To
face any extra charge means we will be in hock with the
King the rest of our lives. My idea is to get ahead in
this game and not behind. All my criminal activities so far
have netted me nothing. I am out for big game and from
now on I mean to concentrate on robbing the hypocrites,
the vultures who prey on the weak and the so-called respect-
able—who prey on the unsuspecting and gullible public.”

Annie, the barmaid, was now approaching in the direction
of Joe. Her approach was a danger mark to Joe and his
pal, but whatever suspicions they had against Annie were
checked, for in passing ‘‘Sweetie” she stooped over and kissed
“Sweetie” full force on the lips to the delight of “Sweetie”
and his lady friend.

‘“What’ll you have?” she chimed in her proverbial lan-
guage, to Joe.

“Why,” started Joe as if struggling for a thought, “have
you... Look,” Joe fairly shouted, pointing to “Sweetie”

“ythe man there . . » he’s sick!’

Joe was attempting to disarm the woman, Annie, of his
suspicions, and feigned ignorance at what was going on at
the other table, in an effort to learn who they were; for
just now “Sweetie” was reloading and taking another drug
injection.

“Mind your own business. The man ain’t sick. What’ll
you have and damn quick about it or out you two goes.
You ain’t spent a nickel so far yet—only dreamin’ -

“Annie, ain’t I a regular customer?” this from Frankie.

“Sure,” replied Annie, “‘or else you’d never git in. Now,”
yelled Annie at the top of her voice, “You fellers ‘Il have
to buy or get out.”

Joe Cook immediately responded with “A straight whis-
key for me.”

“And what will you have?” asked Fat Annie, turning
to Frankie.

“A deck of snow for me.”THE LOOM OF THE LAW 19

Annie stepped into the ante-room to fill the orders. In
the meantime Joe continued his eagle-eyed observation of
‘Sweetie,’ who was in the act of filling his little surgical
instrument for the third time, and conducting his little opera-
tion of forcing the drug via the needle route into his arm.
Joe noticed that the reaction to the drug was always swift
and complete, and “Sweetie” always thereafter straightened
up like a West Pointer. :

Annie returned with the order filled; and before Joe
had time to swallow his whisky, and Frankie having just
inhaled his ordered drug, a crashing sound was heard di-
rected against the entrance door—the door through which
Frankie and Joe had been allowed to enter, and which was
always guarded and bolted.

Simultaneously with the crashing came the sound of a
commanding voice: “Open the door. In the name of the
law, open the door or we will break it down.”

Annie’s husband rushed frantically to Joe’s table where
Annie was standing, and whispered to her to sneak out
quietly through the back and get the bolts ready, and that
he would immediately follow. Joe overheard the secret
instructions, and at once gathered that there must be a sep-
arate and distinct exit through the ante-room, and that the
proprietor could escape, leaving his victims to the mercy of
the law.

Joe turned to Frankie quickly: “Frankie, do as I say.
You grab that thing over there,” pointing to “Sweetie,”
who was in a fourth stupor and needed more drugs, “and
carry him into the ante-room. I will be with you in a
second.”

Frankie needed no further instructions; his atavistic nature
gave full force to his display as he sprang out of his chair
and carried “Sweetie” out of the room and into the ante-
room. ‘Sweetie,’ handled as if he were an infant, was
laid down on the floor. Joe quietly walked over to the lady,
who was turning her head all about, too excited to realize
what was going on.

“Madam, this way, please, for your safety.”

“T don’t understand it all,’ from her. “What has

happened ?”20 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“Something very serious if you don’t do as I request you.
I am trying to get you out of the hands of the law.”

This apparently satisfied the lady for she forced a smile
and allowed herself to be led into the ante-room. Joe im-
mediately slammed the door as he entered, for he heard
the crash of the entrance door, and could see the boards
giving way to the blows. Several inmates made effort as
if to pass into this little ante-room, but Joe shut the door
in time to prevent their entrance Having once closed the
door, Joe looked around and found several bolts which fitted
into interstices. He quickly put the bolts into place, and
as he placed the third bolt in the proprietor faced Joe
with an angry and vicious growl.

“Who invited you here?”

“Never mind,” replied Joe; “just take care of yourself,
Mister. I am only helping out these people.”

“Sweetie” was on the floor in a faint condition, hardly
able to get to his knees.

In the meantime Frankie allowed himself to be led by
Annie and followed her out of the ante-room and into the
darkness.

“Better follow those people,” remarked Joe, addressing
the lady.

“Oh, but I can’t leave this man. He came in with me,
and I must leave with him.”

“That is true,’ said Joe, “but if you will only leave him
to us we will revive him; and he can follow you directly.”

She looked at Joe as if reassured by his manner, and
said nothing.

“Better hurry!’ admonished Joe, “‘or you will lose the
way. You see that is a secret passage, and those people are
making their escape. Every minute counts.”

She moved slowly out of the room, and as she entered
the dark hallway she lost her way, standing stockstill, fear-
ing to go ahead, and fearing to return.

The proprietor bent over the limp form of ‘‘Sweetie”
and doused his face with cold water in an effort to revive
him. Something serious had gone wrong with “Sweetie”
for his body showed no signs of life. While he was thusTHE LOOM OF THE LAW on

engaged, Joe Cook extracted his gun from his hip pocket,
and struck the proprietor a violent blow over the side of
his head. The blow was correct. He had aimed at the
temple, and it took effect almost immediately. The pro-
prietor’s body sprawled over on top of “Sweetie,” and there
was not a sound uttered in the room. To all outward ap-
pearances one was as far removed from life as the other.

Joe quickly went through the pockets of the proprietor
and proceeded to take everything of value. The proprietor
had on his person almost five thousand dollars in cash, which
found a new owner; likewise a good sized bottle of morphine
of great value. Joe also went through the pockets of
“Sweetie,” who failed to rally, and found several hundred
dollars in cash and a wallet whose contents he examined,
and finding nothing of value, he replaced it in his pocket.

In the meantime Frankie was led by Annie to a stairway,
which was reached after several moments walking around
the corridor of the floor, and was further led by her down
the stairway into what apparently was a cellar. Far off
in the distance was a streak of light, which plainly showed
that that was the usual egress from this trap.

Frankie did not allow Annie to get too near the light.
He stopped her abruptly.

“What’s ailing you?” she remarked; “what do you mean
by putting your hands on my shoulder?”

‘Why nothing, dearie; just one kiss.”

Whether it was the drugs, or whether it was the streak
of desperate blood of his forebears that was working on
Frankie at this moment, one could not say. He circled his
arm around her waist and drew her to him, kissing her pas-
sionately. His strength was such that he almost smothered
her, and would not let go.

In the meantime Annie worked her right hand around
to the back of her dress and extracted a dirk which she
always carried in the secret folds of her dress, and plunged
it around Frankie’s left side through his ribs and into his
body. The tiger was cornered. Annie was still in the
embrace of Frankie and was attempting to break his hold.
However, Frankie succeeded in jerking out the knife and22 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

threw Annie from him but before she had a chance to get
out of his way he had forced the dirk into her chest, pene-
trating her heart. As Annie dropped, Frankie dropped close
to her feet, both expiring almost at the same time.CHAPTER V

OE quietly walked out of the antechamber, then walked
through the dark hallway which Frankie had passed
through before him, and almost collided with an object

which he immediately recognized to be the lady.

“Didn’t you follow the other people?” he coolly asked
her.

“No,” she replied, “I did not know which way to turn,
and it was so dark.”

Joe looked around to see if one could see the anteroom
from that point, fearing that the girl may have been an
eyewitness to the murder committed by him. But, upon
being unable to see anything, his troubled mind become
eased.

“You will please follow me, as I fear you have not taken
the proper directions.”’

Joe stumped along the hall, not knowing where he was
going, either, but seeing the stairway, he walked down, lead-
ing the lady. As he got into the cellar, he saw a ray of
light and immediately was guided by the same.

The bodies of Frankie and Annie were plainly in view,
and Joe led the way to where the bodies lay.

“My heavens!” he uttered. “Who could these people be ?”’
as if in astonishment. “The lady looked at the fallen bodies,
and placing her head in both her hands, started to cry.

“Now don’t do that,” soothed Joe. “I think I understand
what this mess is all about. These two people must be des-
perate criminals, and I guess they were angry over some
stolen booty. Now, don’t you be upset about it.”

“Oh!” she cried, “if I could only get out of this horrid
place.”

“Never fear, lady; I will never leave you until you are
safe somewhere where you will be cared for.”

The words were so softly spoken that the lady, reassured

2324 THE LOOM) OF DHE LAW

of a protecting hand, laid her head on his shoulder and
continued crying.

Something was working in Joe’s mind at the same time,
and his one desire was to take the girl to some safe place
where she could not see him at his criminal work; there
was some trimming to be done with the dead. He looked
about him, and concluded that it would be best to try to
get out W ith her first. He led her swiftly to the spot where
the light penetrated, and to his amazement there was noth-
ing but two feet of dirt which led into a back yard. He
pieased up and out of the cellar, almost carrying the lady
with him.

“Now you just wait here and don’t leave; I will be back
in just two seconds.”

The girl was drying her eyes while Joe quickly ran back
to where the fallen bodies lay, and made a hurried search
of Annie. But there was nothing about her outer garments
which showed that she possessed anything, so he quickly
ran his hand into her bosom, and was rewarded by finding
a small knotted bag, suspended by a string, which he quickly
cut. He opened the bag, and was amazed to see pearls
and diamonds, no doubt left with her by her favorite thieves
for safekeeping or possible sale.

Among the contents Joe immediately identified a pearl
necklace. “This necklace had been the talk of police circles
and its photograph had been published daily in several news-
papers with a large reward offer printed under it for the
person who would return it or give information as to its
possible location. It belonged to the wife of a wealthy
merchant.

“The old slut,” muttered Joe, “I wish I had known her
before this. Funny that Frankie never made for it. I guess
he met his Waterloo looking for something else. What
a stupid ass he was. I’m in for a fortune—By God, I’m
the richest crook in town.”

Joe pocketed his find and quickly rejoined the girl with a
smile parting his lips, at the same time thinking very hard
of what had taken place in that little house he was just
leaving; of the bodies which were only a few moments ago
alive and active members, having for some reason or otherTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 25

joined the criminal classes in life; did this downward course
come to those who never knew the value of religious in-
struction ?

rues. ‘thousht foe. “Ph amy one af the: tec acho has
lived a life of crime and degradation who has received relig-
lous Instruction, but am I not an exception to the general
rules?”

And behind him lay Fat Annie, her husband, and Sweetie
the generous, and to Joe a most mysterious individual, who
could not connect there with the girl before whom he was
now standing. Like his uncouth and ignorant accomplice in
crime, Frankie, all these were victims of their environment
in life.

“We must hurry out of here,” said Joe, at the same time
taking the girl most tenderly by the arm and walking to
the rear of the other house, which faced the exit of the house
that Joe had just left. Walking straight ahead they came
to a narrow yard which was the connecting link between
the two houses.

They were on the north westerly side of Forty-third
Street, and Joe immediately recognized the neighborhood. A
few paces and they would be in the ship district. What
a clever scheme Annie had devised to make her getaway
in such emergencies! No doubt the inmates were all placed
under arrest and taken to the station house, charged with
being disorderly and drunk, but the proprietor could not
be found, and therefore escaped responsibility under the law.

Joe had spent two hours in this neighborhood, and led by
urgent desire to get out as quickly as he could, he signaled
a taxicab which was slowly coming down from the river
front, and assisted the girl into the car.

“Where to?” inquired the taxicab driver. Joe, in confu-
sion, turned to the lady and said ‘““Where to?” The lady
evidently understood that Joe intended to take her home,
and gave her address as ———— West Fifty-ninth Street,
opposite Central Park. Joe relayed the information to the
taxicab driver, who, in a businesslike way attended to his
taxi-meter, and rolled the car out of the neighborhood.

The address given was in the vicinity of Fifth Avenue,
and the car was making swift progress to the destination.26 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

Joe did not say anything, and intended to leave the girl im-
mediately in front of her home and get out of sight so that
he could attend to his own business. His mind was occupied
with the proceedings which would take place the next day
in the courthouse where he was to face the magistrate on
a criminal charge of robbery, without his accomplice,
Frankie. As Joe pictured the events of the following morn-
ing, which would have to take place, his blood rushed into
his head, for what excuse would he give for Frankie’s failure
to appear and answer the charge with him?

“Yet,” thought Joe, “I have the price, and so long as
I have all the money that I will need, I need not worry
about Frankie. That will be the King’s job, and I am
sure that a few hundred dollars extra will silence anything
that may have happened in the meantime to prejudice my
Gase,”

Joe was interrupted in his daydreams by the crying of
the girl who was sitting next to him. He had actually
forgotten that he was with anybody.

“Ts there anything I can do for you, Madame?” inquired
Joe.

“No,” replied the girl, still sobbing, “I can’t tell why
I am crying. Oh, if I only knew what had become of
Mr. Grover Hakoun!”’

“Who is Mr. Grover Hakoun?”’ inquired Joe, somewhat
carelessly.

“Why,” she responded, “he is the gentleman who took
me to this place, where you found me.”

“Oh! responded Joe, in relief, “I was wondering whether
he was somebody I knew!”

“Oh! You do not understand,” she quickly replied. Then
—‘T must control myself,” she cried.

“Now, you needn’t get worked up over it,” said Joe. “I
will be of any aid to you, and help you in any way that I
possibly can. I know it is quite a serious shock to a young
lady like you to be found in the circumstances in which you
find yourself. You need not fear any exposure on my part,
for as far as I am concerned, nobody will ever know, and
I shall respect you just as much as if I had never known
that you were in that iniquitous den.”THE LOOM OF THE LAW 2H

The lady looked up in utter astonishment and surprise at
his speech, and tried to study the man she was sitting next
to. She suddenly recalled that she did not even know who
he was, and that he was a perfect stranger to her. His
manly interest in her made her respect him very much.

“Might I ask your name?” she inquired of Joe Cook.

“Certainly,” replied Joe, somewhat hesitatingly, for he
did not know whether to give her the correct name or some
alias. ‘‘I—er,” he stammered, ‘““My name is J. Stanley
Remington.”

“And my name,” said she, “is Lucy Evans.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” responded Joe, and by this
time the car had come to a stop in front of a modern apart-
ment house, and a colored man was standing in the en-
trance; he opened the taxicab door, while Miss Lucy Evans
got out.

“Miss Evans,” asked Joe, “might I call to see you, and
bring you the particulars regarding your friend, Mr. Grover
Hakoun ?”

“Oh! I would be delighted! When do you think you
would be able to let me know?”

“Well,” said Joe, turning to the taxicab driver, “what
time is it?”

“Ten-fifteen P. M.” responded the taxi driver.

“T shall be back within the hour,” said Joe, turning to
Miss Evans, ‘‘and in the meantime I bid you good night
and not to worry. I will try and hurry back with as much
information as I can gather.”

“Oh! I am so thankful to you!’ she cried out, “how can
I ever repay you for your extreme kindness in doing for me
what you did.”

She extended her hand, and Joe took it and gently
squeezed it.CHAPTER VI
ce AKE me to Shady Street, No. ———” fairly shouted

Joe to the taxicab man, as he jumped into the cab
and slammed the door. ‘The car rattled on, leaving
Joe to his solitary thoughts.

As Joe alighted in front of the King’s home, he went
through the same maneuvers as Frankie had gone through
on their previous visit. ‘The banging of the lever attached
to the door, the fat head poked out of the window looking
for signs of identification; the barking of dogs arousing
attention, and the subsequent opening of the door.

Joe walked up the same two flights of stairs he always
walked when he desired to see the King in his private
apartment; for, be it remembered that the law office was
on the level of the street, and that Joe was now in the
private hallway adjoining the entrance to the law office,
both entrances being alongside of each other and in the
same building.

The King was at the usual place before the imitation
fire-place, and was smoking his habitual cigarette. He
looked up, not at all surprised at Joe’s appearance, and
somewhat relieved.

“Come in and sit down,” greeted the King. “How are
you?”

Joe walked slowly to the chair pointed out by the King,
and sat down, while taking the cigarette the King offered
and lighted for him.

“Now,” said the King, “the thing is all fixed. Magis-
trate Henry Green presides to-morrow, and he is a tough
customer. He is one of the magistrates who is bucking me
all the time. He seems to dislike me, and kind of suspects
that I am always putting something over on him. If all
the other judges were like him, I would have a tough prob-
lem, but luckily they are not.”

28THE LOOM OF THE LAW 29

“What do you intend doing?” queried Joe. “Are you
going to postpone this case until one of your fixed magis-
trates comes along, or do you intend going through it with
this hard nut?”

“No,” replied the King. “I don’t think we have to wait
for one of our useful judges. You see, I figured it all out
this way; the leader in the district where this judge lives
must O.K. this man’s reappointment, which comes up very
shortly. You know the mayor appoints all these magis-
trates, and when their term runs out, they have to be reap-
pointed. Whether he is a good judge or a bad judge, is
not the business of the public, and is much less the business
of the mayor who reappoints him. The only thing the
mayor wants to know is whether his district leader O.K.’s
him as a good, obedient judge .

“All right,” said Joe; “Go ahead, you are running the
show. ‘There is one thing else that you must know before
I leave you to-night.”

“And what is that?’ inquired the King.

“Frankie is dead.”

“Dead ?”

ON Ee

“Was he killed while out on a job with you?”

“Well,” responded Joe, “that can be answered yes and
no. I might say that he was killed incidental to our going
out to get your fee, and the fee for those grafting cops and
politicians. But he was not killed while out on the job; he
was killed, I guess—for I have no definite way of knowing,
and must only guess—by his own folly and his degenerate
propensities.”

“Well, I guess we can put this through without him,”
replied the King, “for if he is not in court to-morrow morn-
ing—which he will not be—and if they have not found out
in the meantime that he is dead, the bail will automatically
be forfeited. We can then go on with your case and have
you discharged.”

“But your bail,” replied Joe. “I don’t want you to lose
it. You know you never lost anything on my account.”

“Oh! I won’t lose that,” said the King blandly smiling,
“for you see after you are turned loose we will inform the30 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

cops about Frankie’s death, and I will square everything
after that. That will automatically return the bail to me.”

Joe placed his hand in his trousers pocket and extracted
all the money which had formerly and only recently been
the property of Sweetie, whom he later knew as Grover
Hakoun, and the proprietor of the Forty-second Street den.

“How much?”

“Six thousand,” answered the King, “‘for the fees.”

Then Joe commenced counting, and was astonished when
he found that his roll contained eight hundred dollar bills,
two five hundred dollar bills, twelve fifties, forty twenties,
and the rest in tens, fives and singles, amounting in all to
$7,500. He retained fifteen hundred dollars.

‘No trouble? This turnout is guaranteed?” asked Joe.

“Positively,” replied the King in his ever confident way.

“Well, you have never failed me yet when you guaran-
teed a turnout, and you never guaranteed a turnout unless
you knew that you could produce the goods, so I guess every-
thing is O.K. By the way,” remarked Joe, “I want you
to call up Price of the detective bureau and ask him what
he did with those prisoners over on West Forty-second
Street—the place which was raided an hour ago.”

The King called up the Detective Bureau and asked for
Captain Price. “Hello, is this you, Price?” the King put
the question to him, and immediately thereafter hung up
the receiver, and turned to Joe with a serious expression on
his face.

“He says they are under strict orders to keep any infor-
mation about those arrests private. Any man giving infor-
mation about that raid will be put on the carpet.”

Joe left Shady Street puzzled as to his promised visit to
the Evans girl. Should he tell her all he knew about the
Hakoun man? After all, he had no information on the
subject.

Joe took leave of the King and retraced his steps to the
home of his new acquaintance, Lucy Evans. He gained ad-
mittance to her apartment quite easily, and found her in the
company of a tall, dignified looking man who was quite
heavy and middle-aged. ‘The girl opened the door, and Joe
did not see the man until he was ushered into the frontTHE LOOM OF THE LAW: 31

room, which overlocked the park; the room was quite cheer-
ful in every way.

‘The man was about to take leave.

“Mr. Thomas Clark,” said the girl, addressing Joe, “and
this is Mr. Remington.”’

Mr. Clark sharply looked down at Joe, who felt ill at
ease under the scrutiny.

“TI am very glad to know you, sir,” said Joe.

“IT am pleased to meet you,” said the man somewhat
sharply. “Are you the gentleman who was good enough
to escort Miss Lucy Evans to her home from that place
which was raided by the police?”

“Yes,” nodded Joe.

“Well, I am very much obliged to you for your manly
behavior, and if at any time I can be of any assistance to
you, just let me know,” and he handed Joe his card, which
read as follows:

“Thomas Clark
New York News
News Building”

It was a tense moment for Joe, for he realized that he
was in the company of New York’s most powerful and
most feared publisher.’ Joe was at a loss to understand
what Mr. Clark was doing in that house, and felt for the
moment that perhaps Mr. Clark thought the incident had
great news value, and had come to get first-hand informa-
tion.

“I beg pardon, sir,’ said Joe, somewhat more boldly,
having regained his confidence, “but whatever information
you have gotten here in my absence is strictly forbidden as
a matter of print news. Mr. Clark, I hope your papers
will not publish anything which will draw attention to this
young lady.”

Mr. Clark looked somewhat dubiously at the young man,
and saw that his attempt to stifle this scandal would be
safer than he contemplated.

“Oh! don’t worry, young man,” he replied, “there cer-
tainly will be no publicity on my part. I will do what I
can to keep this thing quiet, if you will do your part.”32 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“Pll do my share,” replied Joe.

“Thanks,” said Mr. Clark. “I will see you later.” With
which he bade the girl goodbye and quickly left them.

When Joe was alone with the girl he thought he would
tell her what he had learned from the King, and proceeded
to recount the happenings after they had left Fat Annie’s
place on Forty-second Street. “The girl listened patiently,
and was somewhat delighted to know that the police had
given little or no information concerning the identity of
Sweetie.

“Now, I will tell you something, Mr. Remington, and
I am telling you this because in my short acquaintance with
you have proved to me that you are a man to be trusted.”

Joe looked up, somewhat surprised.

“Mr. Remington, do you know the man who has just
left here?”

“Yes,” replied Joe, “he is a most powerful man in this
community.

“Did you ever suspect that I knew him?”

“No, I did not,” returned Joe. “Have you known him
very long?”

“Yes” answered the girl, “I have known him for the
past two years. Do you know what he was doing here
to-night ?”

“T thought he was up here seeking information,” respond-
ed Joe, “but, seeing that you know him, I suppose he was
here for quite another purpose.” |

“Yes,” answered the lady, “he was here to tell me that
the police had discovered the body of Sweetie—as you knew
him—when they broke down that door through which we
escaped. When they searched him they found his wallet
and various cards and business notices which identified him
as a friend of Mr. Clark. The police department notified
Mr. Clark of their discovery, and he immediately went to
West Forty-second Street and identified Grover’s body.”

“You mean Sweetie’s body?” queried Joe.

“Yes? answered the girl; “Sweetie is none other than
Mr. Grover Hakoun.”

“And he is ’ replied Joe.

“He is,’ answered the girl, “the personal friend of Mr.THE LOOM OF THE LAW 33

Clark, and they are both friends to me. Mr. Clark came
here quickly to tell me that he had succeeded in stifling the
publication of the raid, and that the police were told by
him to discharge every one of the persons found in that raid,
and that nobody would learn about this episode, for Mr.
Clark already had Sweetie’s body in an undertaking estab-
lishment. The body was to be gotten ready for shipment
to-night.” |

“This is some quick job,” answered Joe. “Nobody but
a man of his political influence in this community could pull
off a stunt like that.”

“Tt saves me much embarrassment,” answered the girl,
“and I certainly appreciate what he is doing.”

“Yes,” responded Joe, “I think you owe him a vote of
thanks.”

Joe was quite at a loss to understand the full meaning of
Mr. Clark’s visit.

“Somehow or other,” he took the liberty to remark, “this
whole thing does not look right to me. I helped you to
escape, and yet I don’t know what part you played in this
whole affair.”

The girl lowered her head, for Joe had struck home. She
fidgeted and moved about nervously in her chair, as if in
doubt what to do or say next. From the moment she had
met Joe, he had made a good impression upon her, and she
felt that unless she told him the truth he would lose what-
ever interest he had in her. It was the first time in her
young life that anybody had taken an unsolicited interest in
her welfare and never demanded anything in return. Know-
ing that the truth was the only thing that she could tell him,
she hesitated, fearing that once he knew the truth, he might
not think the same of her.

Her chest became heavy with anguish, and the tears rolled
down her cheeks.

“Now,” said Joe, “you must not feel that way about it.
You can keep any secret you have to yourself. I am SOrry.
I should not have said what I did.” But at the same time
Joe knew that he had thrown the gauntlet at hex, and it
had left its mark. He knew that there was some valuable
information in store for him.34. THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“T must get this off my chest,” replied the girl; “Will you
listen to what I have to say?”

“T certainly will,” said Joe, “and no matter what you
say, I shall think none the less of you.”

“T hope so,” responded the girl; “I certainly do hope so.”

It was the first time in Joe’s life that his company was
ever appreciated by the gentler sex, and Joe felt humbled.CHAPTER VII

around tor some honest means of keeping the wolf

from our door. Father was a poor old-fashioned
lawyer, and as nobody hired him for their services he be-
came despondent. I knew that in addition to starvation a
worse fate faced him.”

“Do you mean,” interrupted Joe Cook, “that he was
compelled to commit suicide ?”

“No,” continued the girl, “but it would have come to
that ultimately—and perhaps that would have saved my dis-
grace—”’

“But,” again interrupted Joe, “how so?”

“Well, it was to avoid those consequences that I allowed
myself as a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice!’ repeated Joe, in amazement.

“Yes, a sacrifice. Woman was made for sacrifice. I won
a prize in a beauty show in my home town; the newspaper
office of Grover Hakoun then offered me a position as
secretary to Mr. Grover Hakoun, and I immediately accepted
—and what is less to my credit I allowed him to make love
to me. Grover Hakoun was one of the most influential and
powerful publishers in my home town in South Carolina.
His newspaper had a tremendous circulation, and he took
a strong hand in local politics. Grover was the dictator
of the appointments to be made in our city. And he was
a great man.

“After working four weeks in Grover’s business office, he
asked me whether I couldn’t run his town house for him.
He explained to me that he was a bachelor and needed
an efficient secretary to take care of his house and de secre-
tarial work at the same time.”

“But your father,’ broke in Joe, “did he consent to that
arrangement ?”

ets three years ago I was compelled to look

oD36 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“He never knew, poor father!”

“Great God! What a sacrifice!’ exclaimed Joe. “You
sure went through the mill.”

“T explained to Grover father’s position as the reason for
my being unable to accept. He thought awhile and then
said he could arrange to have him appointed a Circuit Court
Judge. That would give father his ambition and standing
in life, and also made it possible for me to accept the posi-
tion. If father was safely traveling on the Circuit he
couldn’t need me for housekeeping, and therefore would have
no objection.”

‘“‘And the scheme worked!” cried Joe.

“Yes—he objected at first, but yielded because——”’

“Because,” interrupted Joe, “he didn’t know Grover was
a snake, and behind it all "

The girl could not continue her story. Her sobbing was
now an uninterrupted act.

“Better get it off your chest, Miss Lucy. Please tell me
the rest of the story. Now, that’s a good girl. Just dry
your tears and go ahead.”

The girl straightened herself out, and feeling she had an
unusually interested listener, went on with her narrative.

“TI accepted the position and lived in the home of Grover
Hakoun. Grover, like all great men, had his vices and weak-
nesses. His one great vice was drugs. At first his atten-
tions to me were rather slight, but very soon he became per-
sonal and intimate with me. He always talked how great
a man he was to place a man like my father on the bench.
I asked him what he meant by that, and he would say,
‘Well, my dear, your father’s job was wanted by hundreds
of political lawyers. Your father is no politician—yet, see
where he is to-day.’

“That would always make me feel proud; to think that
father would never be obligated to politicians. And some-
how or other I got into a rut right then and there.”

“You don’t have to explain,” chimed Joe, “you mean you
allowed the snake to take advantage of the situation.”

“Yes,” assented Miss Lucy, relieved from her embarrassing
position. “Three months later father died while holding
Court. The doctors called it apoplexy. I was greatlyTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 37

shocked and grieved a great deal. My father was all I had
in the world. Mother died when I was an infant, and there
were no brothers or sisters to comfort me in my grief.”

“Well,” suggested Joe, “I suppose you came East then.”

“Yes. When we got East, Grover and I hired this apart-
ment. Now and then he would go back home but he spent
most of his time East. His drug habit became so habitual
that he could never get enough morphine. One day he asked
a taxi driver where he could get some, and the taxi driver
took us to this place on Forty-second Street where you found
us. The proprietor’s name is Andy Ricci, and they are
Italian-Americans. I would go. there just to please him,
and he would keep taking the drugs till he had to be carried
out and placed in a taxi-cab with me to care for him.”

‘“Weren’t you afraid of those people?’ asked Joe, some-
what surprised at her bravery.

“Yes, I was—everytime I put my foot into Annie’s den.
But they were so nice to him—always solicitous for his
comfort and never allowing strangers near him.”

“How long did this go on?” broke in Joe.

“Two years, now that I think of it. And a mighty dollar -
he spent there. Now that he’s gone I'll never miss him—nor
his friends either ce

“But,” inquired Joe, “will Mr. Clark help you out of
the financial predicament you find yourself in?”

“T regret very much to have to accept his proffered
aid Ee

“Has he offered to help you?” eagerly inquired Joe.

“Yes,” quietly answered the girl, lowering her head. “He
told me before he left that he would be as good a friend to
me as Grover was. That he couldn’t discuss it now as he
had to arrange to ship Grover’s body back to Grover’s rela-
tives—his brother, John Hakoun—but that he would be into
see me to-morrow, first thing, and talk it over with me.”

“And what did you say to him?” snapped Joe.

Lucy saw the blood rush to Joe’s face and felt her
strength leaving her.

“I said nothing,” replied Lucy, “but I hope he doesn’t
come.”

“T think,’ said Joe slowly, “that-—-er—I will be here38 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

to-morrow and take his appointment away. Would you
rather have it that way?” faltered Joe.

“T think so,” smiled Lucy, “and don’t think your visit
won’t be welcome.”

Joe was wearied after the day’s events and felt greatly
in need of rest. His fatigue was such as to compel him to
take leave rather abruptly. Steeped in crime himself, he
thought it rather a silly thing for him to try to give this
girl her right start in life. She was very intelligent, he
thought, and very helpless too.

As he walked toward the Great White Light district he
planned a visit to Lucy the next day, immediately after his
trial and freedom. He entered the first imposing hotel he
laid his eyes on, and ordered a supper to be sent up to his
room. Hunger was written all over Joe’s face, and since
Joe now had plenty of money he spared very little and did
not care how quickly it went. Even while eating Joe’s
thoughts reverted back to Lucy. “Woman,” he thought,
“Tf she felt less and reasoned more, would never be a victim
to her whole-heartedness.”CHAPTER VIII

Wis only a few hours of sleep Joe woke to find that

it was 8:00 o'clock. Court opened at 9:00 o'clock

sharp, so Joe had very little time to waste. He
arrived at the Court House on Shady Street none too soon,
and as he reached the corridor of the Court House he saw
in one corner the King and Adams, the detective, in earnest
and whispered conversation.

Joe looked at the detective, and the detective looked at
Joe, but there was no friendly sign of recognition. Adams,
who represented the law, did not intend to give Joe a smile,
in spite of the fact that he was on an errand of corruption,
and was bending all his efforts to exonerate Joe from his
latest crime. Adams did not hesitate to commit perjury for
Joe, but he would not give him the satisfaction of a smile.

Joe looked sneeringly in the direction of Adams as he
passed him and walked into the court room, taking a seat
in an inconspicuous part of the room. No sooner had Joe
taken his seat than the proverbial cry of the Court Attend-
ant, “Hear ye! Hear ye!, etc.” got all of the people to
stand up while the judge took his place on the platform.
When all were seated, Joe recognized the judge to be the
man that the King had spoken about, and who was supposed
to be one of the exceptions to the rule, so far as corruption
and political crookedness was concerned; but it seemed, and
Joe had no reason to disbelieve the King’s remark, that this
man had also been reached by the King. His price was
not money, but at this particular moment his price was
friendship and good will, for he needed friends in order to
gain a reappointment to the bench.

“Graft! Graft! Graft!” thought Joe. “Every man has
his price.”

The King, who was an opportunist, knew this to be the
last day of the.judge who dared to be honest, and since

3940 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

he could do as much on this occasion as he could with his
selected judges, he had all of his cases set down for this day
for trial. In the city of New York a magistrate or police
judge has the right to hear and determine any case from
a sanitary violation to homicide. It gives a very powerful
discretion to a judge who is not elected by the people, but
is appointed by a mayor of that city.

Joe was an interested spectator while waiting for his
case to be called. Cases were disposed of in rapid succession
on the testimony of one or two witnesses. In many of these
cases the King appeared as counsel for the accused. Joe
also observed that whenever a stout, short, florid complex-
ioned man, whom he identified as the district leader of the
district wherein Judge Green resided, stood next to the
King while the case was being tried, the judge’s decision
always ended in one word—“‘discharged.”’

Officer Platt arraigned a poor unfortunate woman charged
with vagrancy. Officer Platt said the woman admitted her
guilt. He then left the stand. “The woman was called upon
to testify in her own behalf, but denied that she admitted
her guilt, and said she was wandering about the streets look-
ing for a friend; and the judge believed the officer, although
there wasn’t very much to believe, and disbelieved the
woman. She was convicted and sentenced to six months in
the workhouse.

Officer Smith arraigned a richly garbed woman, also
charged with vagrancy, who was defended by the King.
‘The police officer took the stand and testified that the woman
accosted him and that the latter arrested her. The police
ofhcer then testified under examination by the King that
the woman denied that she accosted the police officer for
any other reason than to ask him the location of a certain
department store. All the while the short, stout man with
the florid complexion was standing next to the King. The
woman was discharged. This same proceeding was repeated
for half an hour, during which time Joe observed that six
prisoners were discharged and that all six were clients of
the King.

Presently Joe’s case was called. Joe stood at the table
directly in front of the platform of the only honest judge,THE LOOM OF THE LAW Al

while Officer Adams testified in the language of the King.
The language consisted of the words which Adams had writ-
ten down on the occasion when he had his rehearsal in front
of the fireplace of the King’s den. Adams related how
he came to arrest Joe and Frankie on suspicion. While he
was relating the circumstances of his having arrested these
two desperados, Joe looked down in disgust at the shame-
fulness of the police officer in selling his soul. The police
officer was spinning a web of falsity to enable Joe to get
out of his predicament. “If a man,” thought Joe, “could
lie like this police officer, and do it in the presence of all
these people, officials and spectators in court, he certainly
would stop at nothing.” At the end of the recital Joe
noticed for the first time that the stout, short man with the
florid face was standing next to him. Joe realized immedi-
ately that this meant the corruption of the judge. On the
other side of him stood the King, who only asked one or
two questions of the false witness. ‘‘Is that all the evidence
you have?” remarked the judge, addressing the police officer.
Wes,’ xesponded Officer Adams, ‘‘that’s’ all.” “Dis:
charged,” blurted out the judge.

And he was an honest judge!

Joe was accustomed to seeing police officers take the Bible
in one hand and swear by God. By God! By God! What
God? It must be Nietzsche's God: “An omniscient and
omnipotent God who does not even take care that his inten-
tions shall be understood by his creatures—could be a God
of goodness? A God, who for thousands of years has per-
mitted innumerable doubts and scruples to continue unchecked
as if they were of no importance in the salvation of mankind,
and who, nevertheless, announces the most dreadful conse-
quences for anyone who mistakes his truth—would he not
be a cruel God if, being himself in possession of the truth,
he could calmly contemplate mankind, in a state of miserable
torment, worrying its mind as to what was truth?” Joe was
disgusted with all humanity.

He hastened out of the court room and went directly to
the vicinity of Fiftieth Street and Broadway. Upon enter-
ing a jewelry store, he was greeted cheerfully by the man
behind the showcase, who seemingly was the proprietor.42 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

Joe’s entrance was a sign that there was some business to
be transacted, for he was immediately ushered into a rear
room, which was a work shop.

There he took out the bag which he had stolen from the
corpse of Fat Annie, and offered the contents for sale. The
proprietor saw its value immediately and the bargain was
entered into quickly.

There was only $10,000 cash on hand, which Joe received
for the booty and was told to come back within the hour for
the balance. The balance was to be $40,000, and Joe made
it plain that he would wait around until he got it, for he
had other buyers if he could not get the money within the
hour. The proprietor of the store rang a bell in response to
which an elderly lady appeared and took his place in the
store. [he proprietor left the store. Joe walked up and
down the street and looked at the shop windows to while
away the time. When an hour had passed Joe re-entered
the store and found that the proprietor was true to his word.
He entered the rear room, as previously, and there received
the sum of $40,000, counted out to him in large denomina-
tions. Where this money came from and who had joined
this receiver of stolen goods in the syndicate of buying these
diamonds, Joe did not care or worry about. He cared very
little who got the stuff, so long as he got the money. Joe
left the store hurriedly and walked in a southerly direction,
not forgetting his promise to call on Miss Lucy Evans. ‘That
was to be his next stop.‘ CHAPTER IX

m HY is everybody so wicked!” thought Joe. ‘Why
\ does everybody play the hypocrite. Yes—it is
true that many a smooth skin covers up a rotten
body—but who is being deceived—who is responsible for it
all?—or is it all a vengeance of God to play with his crea-
tures like a baby with his toys—make them, some ugly, some
beautiful, then play with their emotions, their phenomena,
help some and cripple others. Was anybody really respon-
sible for his actions?”

All these emotions entered Joe’s mind as he neared the
home of Lucy Evans. ‘Why was he going to Lucy Evans’
home?” No, it wasn’t pity. He pitied nobody in this
world. Pity was something for weakminded people to play
with and not for Joe Cook. He had had enough of pity
—his religious instruction taught ‘him that! Was it love?
Certainly not. Love is a waste of energy, a waste of life
and degenerate to the extreme. All love is purchased and
comes only to those who can afford its existence.

To battle! That’s it! To get to Lucy Evans before she
was a prey to this Mr. Clark who promised to help her.
He would get there before Mr. Clark and frustrate his plans
of benevolence. |

Joe entered the apartment with firm step and light heart.
Mr. Clark, it was evident, had not called as yet. Lucy
Evans certainly looked beautiful. She had that kind of
beauty over which hangs the greatest ruin. Short, slender,
great protruding chest, curved hips—a form that would
make any artist go mad.

He seated himself near her.

“Well, I hope you are reconciled by this time to your
troubles.”

43ital
i

      
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  

44 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“Yes,” faintly from her. “So kind of you to think of me.
I am now all alone in the world.”

Was she looking for sympathy? If she was she would
get none from Joe. His mind was made up as to that.

“You still have your health. One can do much more
with that than with dirty money,” quietly.

She looked up rather surprised. It was an unexpected
retort.

“TI am taking dirty money from nobody. ‘The money
Mr. Hakoun spent on me was deserved. He was respon-
sible for my predicament.”

“Nobody is responsible for our predicaments. We are
what we are. Sometimes we can change, but only some-
times.”’

Tears flowed from the girl’s eyes—real tears—the truth
was being told her—she was not being pitied—her beauty
failed to impress Joe with a spirit of mock tenderness and
hypocrisy.

“Once,” she managed to stammer, “I was happy. It was
when I ran my father’s tobacco farm down South. ‘There
were acres and acres of it, and I was the supreme being over
it. I shall never be happy again.”

“You could if you made a try at it—why not try again—
it is your field of activity. You were brought up, you say,
on a tobacco farm?”

“It takes money,” responded Lucy, “much money.”

“How much?” from Joe.

She laughed—it was the first laugh of hers that day. Joe
looked starved, emaciated, in want! To tell him how much,
she thought, would only sadden this hard person. Yet he
was so nice in some ways.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” she answered. She arose
simultaneously with the remark, and the last word was as if
echoed from the other room she had entered.

A funny time to leave one—just as if she intended her
revenge on him and stun him—yjust like a woman.

Joe counted the money in his lap, and put the balance
back into his trousers’ pocket.

She re-entered shortly with a tray. On it was tea, cookies,
sugar, spoons.THE LOOM OF THE LAW 45

“Some tea with me, Mr. Remington, you must!” And
then she saw what rested on Joe’s knees. She placed the
tray on the nearest table and waited.

“Yes. Tl have some tea. Take this while it lasts. I
must tell you something very confidential.”

“What is it?” she hurriedly exclaimed. Her emotions had
to be hid with quick talking.

“Tam an agent of a South American government that has
just failed. “This money is not mine, nor is it theirs. It’s
money that must find a strange owner immediately. If you
don’t take it I shall have to throw it away or something.”

Of course she knew he was lying, but she pretended to
believe.

“So! What a funny state of affairs.”

“Yes, quite so. “These revolutionary governments cheat
one another. I am only a tool for them all.”

Another lie. “But what can I do with all that money?
Why me?”

“Because,” he answered slowly, “if you don’t take this
honest money you shall fall prey to Mr. Clark’s designs.
Mr. Clark promised to see you to-day. When he comes he
shall have some such proposition as Mr. Hakoun had. You
would drift from one degenerate to the other till you floated
into an ocean of immorality.”

Her beautiful countenance became more brilliant with
beauty. It was God’s own doing—the offering of a Mes-
siah !

“Ts it right for me to take what does not belong to you?”

“Yes, it is! It belongs to you if you will put it where it
belongs—into a tobacco farm with you on it as its supreme
being!”

Some people refuse hard to make acceptance the easier.
In this case her false mask had been torn from her at the
start. Her circumstances, her past, present and future were
not secret matters. She could neither hide nor lie.

They were drinking tea. ‘They were hiding their reac-
tions behind their cups. The money was still on Joe’s knees.
She finished her tea first.

All of a sudden she fell on her knees at the feet of Joe.

She encircled his slim feet with her beautiful hands.THE LOOM OF THE LAW

 

46

“T am’ unworthy! I am unworthy!” she cried. “You
have shown me the way—if you would only lead a little.”

Joe’s embarrassment was intense.

“You must lead yourself,’ he stammered. “You can do
it if you do it immediately. “Take this $25,000 and take the
first train that leads to your happiness.”

It was evident that the beautiful girl was in love with
Joe—or was it the money—something to disillusion her
must be said.

“TI am a married man,” continued Joe.

She did not arise immediately. When she did, Joe swept
the money into her hands.

“Please,” argued Joe, “don’t think Iam a fool. — Will
you do as I ask? Will you allow me to help you pack?”

“I have nothing to pack; all this (with a wave of her
hand) belongs to the apartment house owners.”

Joe sat in silence as she dressed. Some articles she stuffed
into a small hand bag. He called up the railroad informa-
tion bureau and learned that a train left at six which made
connections with a sleeper at twelve midnight for her south-
ern town. With her consent tickets were reserved for the
six o'clock train. “They had still an hour left them to make
it—he put her in the taxi and went along.

“I forgot to tell you,’ she spoke up, “that Mr. Clark
visited me before you came.”

“He did!” from Joe, in astonishment. ‘‘What did he
want?”

“Oh,” and she sighed, “I guess it’s best not to talk about
him; but it seems he is also worried about Mr. Hakoun.
He can’t hold back the story any longer. The police say
it was murder and are going to investigate.”

‘They were getting out of the taxi. Joe assisted her and
escorted her into the station.

“Your address—what will it be?” asked Joe.

“Dresden, South Carolina.”

“Dll write you sometime—and don’t worry about anybody
—Just be good to yourself. Good-bye!” And he was gone.

He left abruptly so as to give her no time for display of
sentiments. All sentiments to. him were silly—ridiculous.
Only fools embraced in greetings and in partings. ‘ThereTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 47

were too many fools in the world as it were—he did not
choose to be one of them. A great satisfaction radiated
through Joe and he felt at peace with himself for the first
time in his life. He had compelled somebody to listen to his
advice and then take it with all its obstacles. What a con-
quest !CHAPTER Xs

around the floor, pulling one another after them—

and they called it dancing. It was the clubrooms of
the Owney Madden Association. "The members of the
association, crooks of every department, were enjoying them-
selves to the best of their ability. Groups sat here and there,
drinking beer and talking loudly.

Joe occupied one of the tables all alone. From this gang
he would pick his accomplices every now and then—when-
ever he was broke and ready for a thief’s work.

In spite of the medley of noise, Joe could observe the
arrival of a cab. ‘The cabby walked a well-dressed but
intoxicated woman up into the clubrooms and into an ante-
room. ‘There two roughs took charge of her.

“Hello, Auntie!” called one; “how are you to-day?” The
other came back with a skillet of beer and urged her to
drink, which she did eagerly and with apparent thirst. Some
old rags of clothes were brought in,—a skirt, an old hat and
a tattered waist. They took her fine clothes from her and
dressed her in the old clothes.

“She ain’t got much, Jim,” said the first member to the
cabby.

“No, only nineteen dollars,” said the second. “Better
drop her into some hallway.” The cabby assisted his burden
back into the cab, and away it flew with its fare. This
proceeding took place quite often. Saturday night was the
best night of the week for this association of crooks. The
cabbies found better victims on these nights.

Clubrooms of this character existed in different parts of
the over-crowded tenement-house sections of Manhattan.
It was obvious that their extinction was prevented by the
politicians in whatever locality they existed. On election
day the members of these clubs were useful for the various

48

a cans rattled—or was it music? Couples spunTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 49

rough work that political feuds sometimes called for. Hence
their existence.

The Legislature of the State of New York has geograph-
ically divided the State into political districts. Each district
is called an Assembly District; and each Assembly District
covers an area in accordance with the population therein
contained. A political leader dominates political control
over each Assembly District.

‘Time was when politics interested the wealthy class, or,
as 1s more commonly known, the “silk-stocking” class. In
those days rich estates were not taxed. No jobs were created
for anybody, and this class of politicians had their own way;
but such was not to be. ‘To-day the political workers are
not the blue-bloods. The new Americanized citizens have
shoved out the political aristocrats; and now jobs are cre-
ated at the whim and caprice of these new politicians.

‘These regular organizations are very powerful. On only
One occasion in recent years was there a successful rebellion
against political monopoly. A blue-blood, William Travers
Jerome, used his brains, played their own game, and made
a sensational run for District Attorney, in which he swept
out temporarily two regular organizations. But the System
got to work again and soon regained their old-time power.

* * * * *

At a far-off table they asked Joe to join them. He did.
‘There were four others there. One of them, a pick-pocket
and sneak-thief, Izzy Trader by name, was in the midst
of a story. For Joe’s benefit he started all over again:

“And me brudder was arrested fifteen times before dis
and never faced no jury. Fifteen times! Dis time de kid
squeals on me brudder Moe to de District Attorney, and
me brudder Moe is indicted by the grand jury for teachin’
de kid to steal packages. Me brudder Moe, he faces de jury.
Twelve guys wid faces that would freeze a funeral. They
had de goods on Brudder Moe. I could see him doin’ a
ten-year bit sure as daylight. I felt so sorry for me brudder
dat I ran out and got him a wife and eight kids. We put
them on de stand to show to de jury, an’ their faces melted50 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

right away. Dey goes out to de jury-room, an’ comes back
in ten minutes. ‘Not guilty!’ dey yells, an’ out walks
Brudder Moe. An’ who done it all—who?—Mel! an’ brud-
der Moe a bachelor all his lifetime!”

They all roared again, and drank more beer. Joe paid
for the round and for the next four rounds of beer. “These
people were all known to him. He had used them time
and again. Some were more to be trusted than others. On
the whole, they were a safe bunch unto themselves only.
But woe to any meddler. ‘Their code was eat, drink, steal

and murder, if you must.CHAPTER Xl

T was the early hours of the morning. Full of beer
and in need of some sleep, Joe left the small brick
building of the association for a hotel. “The building

was on Thirty-eighth Street West and Tenth Avenue, and
Joe’s hotel was at Twenty-third Street and Sixth Avenue.
He walked south till he reached Twenty-third Street, and
then east on Twenty-third Street. A succession of loud
noises attracted his attention. He listened carefully. News-
boys; newsboys selling the morning papers, with a “Wuxtra!
Wuxtra! all about de triple moider!”

“What murder?” thought Joe. ‘Could it be that the
newspapers had finally taken up the episode of forty-eight
hours ago?” Joe hurried to the newsy and bought two
different morning papers. The whole front sheet of each
of them was covered with news of the murder of Grover
Hakoun, the noted publisher, Fat Annie and her husband.
Great mystery, according to the papers, surrounded the
murders. It was insinuated that there was a woman in the
case who would shortly be questioned by the police. Photo-
graphs of the three victims were printed alongside of each
other. Not a word about Frankie. That much the police
had managed to keep back, because it gave them a lead as
to who they were looking for, and they didn’t want that
lead spoiled.

The news excited Joe very little. What a stupid world!
The victims were dead—why worry about them at all?
The dead tell no tales, nor even lies.

He entered the hotel, got his key, and upon entering his
room went directly to bed. What a conscience! Sleep
came easily and quickly. How one could envy this restful
mind!

5152 THE LOOM OF THE TAW

The following morning was the third day since the mur-
ders. Joe dressed, breakfasted in a cafeteria adjoining his
hotel, and set out for his lawyer’s office. It was his plan to
leave his money with the King, his lawyer, and keep only
enough to satisfy only ordinary necessities of life. But it
was only a daydream interrupted and obliterated, for a
heavy hand snatched first one wrist, and then the other.
Three detectives looked at him and laughed like hyenas.

“Fooled us, eh?” snapped one. “Thought you got away
with a clean job! Who killed Frankie the Wop?”

“Find out, if you’re so wise,’ retorted Joe, ‘“‘and keep
your dirty hands out of my pockets.” ‘That was not to be.
They went through his pockets, and upon finding that he
was well furnished with money, they half dragged him into
the nearest hallway.

“The cleverest crook makes the biggest dope,” yelled an-
other detective to him. “With all this money, why didn’t
you get out of town?”

“Because that’s my business, and not yours,” angrily re-
plied Joe, “and furthermore, since I am never to see or
hear of this money again, and you mean to keep it for your-
selves, why not let me have enough of it for the King?
He'll have to defend me against whatever charge you fellows
trump up, and you know he’s been a good fellow to you
cops.”

“Sure,” answered one of the guardians of the law. “My
name is Jim Anderson. You know me, don’t you? I have
been in the Police Department for twenty years, and this
is the first time I see you.”

“I hope,” answered Joe somewhat boldly, “that after see-
ing me you will treat me a little more civilly.”

“We didn’t break your neck yet,” volunteered another of
the trio. “You know how we handle these rough fellers.
We are going to make it exceptional in your case.”

“Yes,” from Joe, “money always calls for an exception.”

“Aw, ‘money!’ What do you mean, ‘money’? You
didn’t have any money; you know you didn’t,” answered the
third of the trio.

By this time they had extracted all the money he possessed.
The first of the trio pocketed the money.THE LOOM OF THE LAW a3

“We ain’t such bad fellers, are we2” from the detective
who introduced himself to Joe as Anderson.

“Here, put this in your pocket. You may need it,” said
Anderson.

He counted out five thousand dollars of the twenty-five
thousand, and with a smiling face, he handed it to Joe.

Aren't we good fellers?” Fopeaed Anderson, for the
fifth time.

“Yes,” thought Joe to himself. ‘“What a crooked bunch
these men are.” ‘The System that protects the community
with the left hand double-crosses them with the right hand
and keeps shouting to their fellow-men: ‘See, I am honest!
I am honest!” For if it didn’t shout of its honesty, its guilty
conscience might betray their true thoughts.

Joe knew the police officers and their ways. If they be-
friended him, they made up for it in other ways by their
villainy. lea confide to a police officer, experience told
him was like placing yourself behind nricah bars without
even the formality of a trial.

Once in his early criminal career he confided to a police
oficer where he had placed the proceeds of a larceny and
begged for permission to return it to the owner so that
he might escape facing a Police Judge. That police officer
had promised to release him if he produced the stolen prop-
erty. Thereupon Joe took the police officer to where the
stolen property was concealed, but, instead of being released,
he was arraigned in Court, and his entire confession was
used against him.

“Well,” from Anderson, the spokesman, ‘the quicker we
get down to business, the better for us all. The charge is
murder. Did you kill that swell dud?”

“What swell,dud?? »from,Joe., .», » Aen

“Why, that big newspaper ‘pydlistier”” :

“What is the use’ of asking meé stich’ a ‘question. Do I look
like the kind that >would spzlk disty’ ink over -a a good check?
Do you expect ‘m4 to say F killed ‘hym?” > > 2°

This brought a crocodile laugh from the over-fed face of
the detective.

“Oh, well, we might as well be on the level with each
other! Now listen, Joe; your reputation is the reputation54. THE LOOM OF THE LAW

of a crook with brains. I don’t expect you to tell us any-
thing, but one thing I would like to know for my own
curiosity. Who killed Frankie the Wop?”

“A good detective is supposed to know everything. If
you are arresting me because you found Frankie the Wop
dead somewheres, you are making a big mistake.”

“Oh, is that it!” rejoined Anderson. “You want to be
smart, do you? You think we have nothing on you. We'll
tell you later what we know, so I guess we might as well
take you down to Murderer’s Row in the ‘Tombs Prison and
put you amongst the filthy.”

“Go ahead and do anything you please,’ answered Joe.
“Only please notify the King where I am, and tell him I
would like to see him immediately.”

“Sure,” answered Anderson. “Say, you don’t mind tell-
ing him that we suggested his name to you, do you?”

Joe smiled and nodded his head in assent. “These de-
tectives,’ thought he, ‘‘sure do live off the indiscretions,
wickedness and dishonesty of their captives, from Alpha to
Omega.”

Of course the object of Anderson in saying what he did
was for the purpose of claiming a division of whatever fee
Joe would pay to his lawyer. It is only on rare occasions
that a detective, when he smells money in the clothes of
a prisoner, does not take it upon himself to recommend a
lawyer to the prisoner. And yet this system, which has
existed for many years, cannot be broken up.

Joe was led, quietly enough, into the city prison of the
City of New York, known to the community as “The
Tombs.” It was rightly named. Persons charged with all
manner and forms of crime were assigned cells in this living
tomb. “It was anfaiy,’ thought Joe, “te most of the pris-
oners.” Joe had: been: in. «this: place before. He had seen
many innocent pérsons‘ Kept’ there, for ‘many months, and
then only to be discharged because:it was irnpossible to put
them to trial: * Im:other words, although there was no evi-
dence to hold these people, and they were considered inno-
cent, under the Law, until proven guilty, yet they were held
there, at the pleasure and convenience of those who were
in control of the Law. Sometimes the person responsibleTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 55

for their unlawful detention was the Police Department, and
sometimes it was the District Attorney. And yet this con-
dition of affairs continued as a settled practice.

The cell which Joe occupied was like any ordinary cell
in any ordinary prison. Human beings are shut in a cage
of iron bars like the bear or the lion in capitvity. ‘Their
food is passed through an opening, and sometimes the gate
attached to this iron enclosure. In the morning, two keep-
ers would come along carrying their wash kettle. In this
wash kettle was food. They would stop in front of every
cell and with a dipper would portion out the food from
this wash kettle. The eating utensils were mostly tin. Of
course, Joe didn’t expect that they should be made of gold.
For dinner, the same performance; supper, again the same.

And this thing was repeated day in and day out.

After Joe had been there three days, he beckoned to one
of the keepers on guard and asked him whether he could
buy his own food.

“Sure,” said the keeper. ‘“‘Money gets everything in here.
I can bring you a meal from Delmonico’s, if you got the
price.”

And so Joe had all his meals sent in to him from outside.
It was very kind of the detectives to return to Joe some
money so that he could at least enjoy his food! Yes, very
kind!

The King, Joe’s lawyer, had called to see Joe soon after
his arrest.

“They got nothin’ on you, Joe,” remarked the King. “I
will get you out of ‘this scrape.”

‘Who am I charged with killing?” asked Joe.

“Well, Ill tell you all about that,” answered the King.
“Tt is this way: [hat newspaper publisher who was found
dead was insured for the sum of five million dollars. He
is a very big man down South. Many people were inter-
ested in his business ventures, and knowing that he was a
reckless bird, they insured his life to protect their invest-
ments. Now this thing was intended to be kept quiet,—
that is, the death. But when his body got shipped to his
home town, the insurance companies immediately tried to
show that the man committed suicide. This was a knock-56 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

out blow for the business associates of this publisher, because
there was a clause in the policy that if the deceased came
by his death as a result of suicide, then the insurance com-
pany would be relieved of paying the insurance. Now you
see through it all, don’t yer? “They had to lock somebody
up and charge somebody with murdering him, or else down
went their dreams for collecting the insurance.”

Joe nodded his head in understanding. It was evident to
him that the King had procured all this information from
the detective. ‘The King always got his dope straight. He
always knew the card that had its face downward. ‘That is
why he always succeeded in accomplishing what he went
aiter. Whenever he desired anything from the police de-
tectives, he always got it; and he was the exception to the
rule. No other lawyer ever dared question a police detective
about his motives or his reason for arresting a man. ‘There
always were barriers between police detectives and lawyers
defending their captive. It was as if they were enemies.

The old-fashioned lawyer who used to walk into a court-
room clad in a long frock coat, wearing a high hat, had
disappeared. ‘The old-fashioned lawyer who practiced ora-
tory instead of pettifoggery has disappered. ‘The old-fash-
ioned lawyer who tried to keep in touch with honesty, in
practicing his profession, has disappeared, and in his place
we have the political lawyer. A political lawyer is one who
mixes in politics and uses the politicians to gain his livelihood
and to attain success, All the plums that were handed out
by the Judges, such as receiverships, refereeships, guardian-
ships, and all other “ships” of disaster, which meant money
into the pockets of the lawyers, were handed around to these
political lawyers, and these were the only lawyers who ever
received benefits at the hands of the courts. The courts had
all been subsidized into a great political system.

This system of the courts being subservient to politics
has become a fixed institution. A candidate for a judgeship
can be seen when he is running for office mixing with all
kinds of disreputable people, simply because these people
can dig up the votes. When such a system is allowed to
exist, the result is inevitable.

* * * * *THE LOOM OF THE LAW 57

Days passed; weeks passed; months passed, but Joe was
still in his cell. No effort had been made to indict him.
Evidence was lacking. A man may kill and yet escape pun-
ishment, unless some other evidence besides the act of killing
is available. In other words, all these bodies, which were
strewn on the floors of Fat Annie’s den of iniquity, meant
nothing. However, if some article were found in this place,
or on the person of Joe that in itself would make a danger-
ous case against him. So that here we have a murderer
who could laugh at the law, even to the extent of admitting
that he committed these crimes and yet escape punishment.
The missing link in the chain of evidence against Joe was
some form of corroboration to connect him with being where
the bodies were found. ,

There is nothing that makes the soul of a man sicken as
does monotony. It was a painful and terrible existence for
Joe. Every day he saw the same keepers pass up and down;
every day he would hear the same wails and shrieks that
would come from a man who was in a cell opposite him and
who was supposedly insane, or perhaps feigning insanity to
cheat the electric chair.

The tier of cells along the corridor where Joe was con-
fined was known as ‘‘Murderer’s Row.”

Nothing changed around him.

Joe could stand it no longer.

The only deviation from this straining monotony was
when old Tony, one of the keepers in the prison, would
approach Joe’s cell and make conversation. ‘This was
against the prison’s rules, but old Tony, who was a very old
employee, took chances on violating prison rules that younger
keepers could not afford to.

On one of these occasions he said to Joe: “See that man
over across the street?”

Joe could see the street from his cell which faced the east.
The window was low, and one could peer from it and
observe the street.

Old Tony pointed to a four-story building situated on
the north-west corner of the street. “The ground floor was
occupied as a saloon and on the windows of the first story58 THE. LOOM OF THE LAW
were the names of different persons with the words “Law
Offices” in big letters, written over their names.

“That,” said old Tony, “is the office of Jimmy Rock.
Ever hear of Jimmy Rock?”

“Yes, I heard of him,” answered Joe. “He is a big polit-
ical leader, isn’t he?”

“You bet he is,” responded Tony, “and that is his office
there. He has been there for years and years. Years ago,
when he got tired of running his saloon, he opened this law
ofice. He is no lawyer, but he has several lawyers working
for him. He has enough business to keep twenty lawyers
busy. I wish I had his income.”

Joe looked, and could plainly see a tall, heavy-set, clean-
shaven man, with a great big cigar in one corner of his
mouth. ‘There were many others in the office, but they were
inconspicuous in size compared to this big man. Joe knew
him to be Jim Rock. “A dangerous privilege,” thought Joe,
“to allow these political figures who nominate and elect
judges, district attorneys and governors, to run law offices.”

Instead of handing the fees from criminals to strange
lawyers, it was now possible for Jimmy Rock to collect this
money and pocket it with the aid of his dummy lawyers.
The success of these lawyers was like magic. They could
handle the judges better than the Choates, Stanchfields, or
any other legal élite. Law work was becoming daily more
and more the art of the pettifogger.

Joe sent a letter to the District Attorney who was re-
sponsible for his detention without trial. The King had
told Joe that he must eventually be discharged, that it was
only a matter of a few more weeks. But Joe was desperate.
He could stand it no longer.

The letter he wrote to the District Attorney complained
of his incarceration; it complained of his being held without
trial; it complained of the injustice of his detention.

When the District Attorney received this letter he in-
formed Joe’s lawyer that perhaps he could arrange Joe’s
discharge if Joe would consent to be interviewed.

The King conveyed this message to Joe and urged him
to consent to the interview, and answer only such questions
as the King would allow him to.THE LOOM OF THE LAW 59

The King arranged the interview. It took place in a
room of a building which adjoined the prison building. The
two buildings were connected by a bridge which made it
convenient for the courts to suck in the multitude of pris-
oners from the prison into the courts and pump them out
into the various penitentiaries. Even Justice must resort to
modern methods of convenience. ‘The multitude of pris-
oners that passed from one building into the other and out
again were shocking. Each year with the addition of new
laws would come new prisoners. ‘The more laws, the more
violators. Court-rooms were turned into factories where
ordered chaos instead of dignity reigned.

Over this bridge Joe passed into the connecting building.CHAPTER XII

 
  
   
 
    
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
   
 
  
   
 
 
 

cuffs adorning his wrists, he was led into a room the
door of which had on it “Charles Gilmore.”

Seated at a long library table was a middle-aged dignified-
looking man whose kindly round face greeted one on en-
trance. Clean-shaven, gray-haired, with merry, popping
eyes, that spoke well of his personality, this gentleman was
the Assistant District Attorney to whom Joe had written
his letter. ‘The dignified gentleman stood up at Joe’s en-
trance, and beckoned him to a seat directly opposite him.
Instinct told Joe that he would like this man. ‘There are
people who instinctively create an aversion in one no matter
how beautiful they may appear, or how graciously they may
carry themselves. An intelligent person will always fight
shy of the suave and smooth-tongued individual; distrust is
instinctive.

‘Detective Anderson,’ spoke up the District Attorney,
“please takes these handcuffs off the prisoner and let him
stay in this room with me without guard. I fail to see this
man as a desperate criminal.”

Detective Anderson did as he was told, and was very
surprised at this unheard-of request. “The Police Depart-
ment considered Joe Cook one of the most desperate crim-
inal characters. He was a mystery, yet to be solved by
them. Nothing was known of the past life of Joe Cook.
Many attempts had been made to trace his antecedents, but
to no avail. It was with a feeling of trepidation that the
detectives left the room.

“Now,” continued Mr. Gilmore, “you are the gentleman
who sent me a request for an interview in the form of a
letter. Your attorney has not arrived, I notice. Are you
willing to proceed with this interview in his absence 2”

“Yes,” answered Joe, for he was struck with the honest

60

Bess aces on each side by a detective and with hand-THE LOOM OF THE LAW 61

face of this District Attorney. He had never trusted anyone
in connection with his criminal career. Even his accomplices
in crime were kept in ignorance of many things that Joe
thought unhealthy for them to know. He was a thorough
student of psychology in dealing with people.

“Very well,” said the District Attorney. ‘To begin
with, I wish to read to you the letter that you wrote me.
It was this letter that prompted me to discharge the detec-
tives. I am convinced that you are not a born criminal.
You have good blood in you, and good blood does not lie.
Therefore, I shall expect the truth from you, if you want
me to deal with you in a manly way. You understand me,
don’t you?”

“I do,” answered Joe very readily. Joe’s good opinion of
the man was strengthened by this remarkable speech.

“Your letter reads as follows:”

Tombs Prison,
Cell 717—
IVin. GILMORE:
Assistant District Attorney,
New York County.
DEAR SIR:

My attorney has informed me that although there is no evidence
against me my detention is at your request. I think it is very
unfair for you to do this. It is with extreme reluctance that I
presume to inflict you with my sorry affairs. But in the present
writing I am impelled by a sense of duty to myself rather than
self-gain, though the two are well-nigh inseparable.

My misery and poverty is not the result of money affairs; I
cannot endure this confinement any longer.

These facts are my excuse for presuming to call your attention
to the following: To my lay mind, believing that precedent has
weight in the passing of judgment in the Court of Law, it appears
that my present status has more of merit regarding clemency and
consideration than had Bridgie Weber in re Rosenthal.

Weber was a party to the murder of a member of the under-
world—Rosenthal as such created less of public rancor towards
Weber than the result of my depravity. But does Justice consider
public rancor in such cases? In his case apparently self-preser-
vation outweighed any pure resolve to reform,

Lastly, his money enabled him to secure the legal aid that man-
aged well to drive a bargain, hard and fast, in exchange for
his testimony. His money, the source of which is well known
to me to have been the proceeds of the sale of opium, and no man62 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

in New York is more responsible for the wide spread and misuse
of morphine and other drugs.

Has my life been more reprehensible? °

An interview with you will prove to you that I am not the
dangerous criminal I am made out to be. Although I can be dis-
charged without your assistance, as my lawyer informs me, yet
I repeat I cannot endure the monotony of this confinement any
longer.

I hope for an early interview.

Yours truly,
(Signed) JosEPH COOK.

Indecision was written over the countenance of Joe. If
Joe were to keep faith with his letter, it meant that he would
have to tell many things about himself for the first time.
But one thing Joe determined not to reveal: and that was
his participation in the murders.

“TI want you to tell me who you are ... what you are

. and how you came to be engaged in these crimes and
other crimes.”

“T really don’t know,” answered Joe, “what made me the
outlaw that I am. I cannot account for it.”

“Oh, there must have been some beginning,” pressed the
District Attorney. ‘Something in your past life must have
happened that gave you a start.”

“My rebellion against people and their possessions is with-
out apology. I have no excuse to offer.”

“Do you intend to continue your criminal career if I
use my influence to have you discharged immediately ?”

“T don’t know,” answered Joe.

“That is an honest answer,’ continued the District At-
torney. “You are a remarkable man, and I should like to
see you go straight. I will help you go straight. I will
make it my business to take an interest in your welfare, but
I must know something of your past life.”

The insistence of this kindly gentleman to learn of Joe’s
past did not irritate him. In fact, it was the first time in
many years that anybody had held out such a helping hand
to him.

* * * * *

“T am telling you the story of my life only because thereTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 63

is a loneliness and an emptiness in it that can only be filled
by a sympathetic listener who will offer silence although
there may appear a duty to speak. So please just listen and
say nothing. The burden of my suffering I have shouldered
well . . . regrets are like dust in the wind . . . only with
humans it is a heavier load.

“True, as you insinuated, I am of gentle birth. But as
to that, none of us can choose or prevent. Not only of
gentle birth am I, but also of great wealth. ‘There were
no brothers or sisters. My parents took very little interest
in me... I mean love interest . . . but I had very little
cause for complaint, as my nurse was of a good sort and was a
constant companion to me until I was of the age of twelve.

“My father was a wholesale druggist, and did a tremen-
dous business. Most of it was importing. He was a pillar
of society, a most devout churchman, a good man, and yet
one of the most dangerous distributors of narcotics. All the
money he made was made by reason of his unlawful traffic
in drugs; sold to the smaller wholesalers and retailers—
legal by reason of a license issued to him by the government ;
legal because he did not sell this stuff himself to the fiends.

“At the age of twelve I was taken away from the nurse
and handed over to a Professor Zimmerman for private in-
struction. I never knew the inside of a common school,
or public school, as it is better known; and in consequence
never had opportunities for exchanging views of life or ob-
serving different modes of living.

“My views of life were narrow and I could never look
at a poor boy of my age but with a feeling of repulsion.
Vermin and poverty were as one with me. Among my
many studies was voice culture, at which I became a satis-
factory student. At the age of sixteen I was a member of
the church choir of my father’s church, and continued in
this wise until at the age of nineteen, when my plans, or
those of my father, received a setback; a permanent set-back.

“A taxidriver my father often hired, Ross Jones by name,
was the indirect cause of this set-back; but I was the direct
cause by selection. ‘This driver was engaged when my father
had big deals to consummate with notorious and suspicious
characters. On account of habit this duty was carried out64 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

by him in person; he had done it since he started in business
many years ago, and kept it up in spite of his prosperity.

“Ross Jones, on one occasion when I engaged him—he
was the only one I ever engaged—asked me if I cared to
see some spice, a word he used for excitement. On this
occasion I allowed myself to be led—and later misled—by
Jones. A place known as ‘Nigger Ike’s,’ run by a white
man, was our destination. ‘This place was located in the
midst of New’ York’s Chinatown, and the interior repre-
sented a sort of cabaret. Refreshments would be served by
singing waiters; admittance was restricted to sightseers with
much money or ‘good for pickin’,’ as their saying went, and
frequenters well known to Billy the doorman.

“Painted women mixed here and there, going from table
to table to coerce drinks out of the sightseers; now and then
a dancer with a scarcity of clothes would trip out of a back
room and dance around the floor in and out of the tables
to the accompanying tune of a band composed of negroes.

“That same evening I was escorted by Ross Jones into
a side door of the cabaret, which opened into a bright room
fitted out as a sort of parlor. A pretty girl was resting
luxuriously on a divan; she wore fine clothes and looked well
preserved. I asked Jones who this lady was, but that was
unnecessary—he had brought me in to introduce me to her,
and she acted as if she knew who I was—the meeting no
doubt was pre-arranged.

“It goes without saying that I was immediately intro-

Q

duced to Mollie Rose. She began her conquest of me by
telling me that I would look down upon her because | was
young Cook and she was a nobody; she said that all] people
looked alike to society people; if they had to meet them for
business, they were friendly; but if it was a social interview,
they tried to impress people with their superiority.

“I assured her that I was different; that she could always
call herself my friend.

“She said, ‘Well, if that is so I would rather do business
with you than your father. He is getting tighter and tighter
with his credit. We can’t buy his stuff any longer, if he
keeps up this way.’

“I asked her what she meant, and she professed surpriseTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 65

at my display of ignorance. ‘Why, the stuff,’ she answered,
‘the morphine, cocaine and heroin we buy from him—hun-
dreds of thousands of dollars worth every year.’

“And what do you do with it? I inquired. ‘Sell it,’
she answered; ‘deal in it, hand it out to the mob, our boys.
I’m in business just like your father—only I retail, and your
father wholesales.’

“Right then and there I felt every organ in my body
take a different position, and I was re-adjusted, so to speak.
Hate was my reaction to my parents; the hypocrisy of my
father’s position in life was so illuminating, and to put any
virtues he may have had into eternal sleep.

“This woman was no longer a thing to me; I swept her
vices aside and became her best friend. Each night I made
secret visits to her, and in due time became her partner in
the drug venture. Of course, it was her suggestion. ‘The
stuff’ I would steal from my father’s place, and she would
sell it.

“T Jearned to drink whisky; one night when I had had
too much I wandered to the water front, where I was found
the next morning in an unconscious condition by a police-
man. When I had recovered I was turned over to my
father, who by this time learned of my relations with Mollie
Rose.

“Instead of forgiving me, he kicked me out of the house.
I tried to get back into the good graces of Mollie Rose, but
when she heard my sad story she would have nothing to do
with me.

“The Patsy Bevan Association was just around the corner;
there derelicts of all description met, drank beer and talked
murder. I picked out three rough-looking customers that
night and told them I had a big job; one and all they looked
at me as if I was insane. I assured them it was a real job,
and gave my references—Mollie Rose, the Nigger and other
underworld characters. Where was it? How much was in
it? Who had to be croaked, and many other questions I
side-tracked by simply telling them that I made it my busi-
ness never to talk ahead.

“Finally they consented to come, so at 2:00 A. M. that
morning we started out on a hike. Each of the three had66 THE LOOM, OF ‘THE LAW

some weapon in his pocket. We reached Astor Place, and
there I saw a fine racing car without anyone around to care
for it. I took the wheel and silently urged the three in.
We rode uptown, and when I got well up on Broadway
my eyes lit on a jewelry store that was closing up in the
wee hours of the morning. A man was taking trays of
jewelry out of the window and putting them elsewhere; this
I could see plainly from the seat of the automobile.

“T pointed to the store and the man, and sent them in
with orders not to hurt, but just to frighten and get the
stuff. The men, however, were inexperienced thieves, and
nearly beat the lone man to death before taking the trays of
jewelry. It took but a few seconds to get away from the
scene of the crime; it was my first crime.

‘““Thereafter I picked my accomplices carefully. It was
not long before I was called the Master Criminal; but I
have always made it a point never to kill except in self-
defense.

“On and on I kept, committing crime after crime, and
time and again would escape the clutches of the law; some-
times by direct bribery, and other times indirectly through
my lawyers. That’s all I have to say. I am through.”CHAPTER XIII

inal collapsed; his long arms hung limp over the arms

of the chair and his head fell on a level with his chest
and rested there—whether from fatigue or shame it was
hard to tell. He had been cornered with his better self
and whatever it was that wore him out it was certain that
shame had had something to do with it.

The kindly prosecutor revived Joe partially by forcing
him to drink a glass of cold water; then, after waiting a
few minutes to give the body of Joe relaxation from his
nervous energies he walked out into the corridor and gave
the police detectives some instructions. ‘The appearance of
King, the lawyer, was noted for the first time out in the
corridor.

“I’m going to discharge your client,” cried the kindly
prosecutor to him.

“Good!” responded the lawyer, ‘that’s what I came to
see you about but didn’t want to break in on your confab;
I knew the boy could take care of himself.”

“Do you think so?” queried the prosecutor.

“Yes, of course!’ roared back the lawyer.

“Well, I have this to say to you, counselor,’ warned
the prosecutor, “that man inside there (pointing to his room)
is not able to care for himself. He needs a good hand to
guide him, an honest heart to advise him and a good friend
to help him. ‘The likes of you will never set him straight.
He needs to be discouraged on the disasters of infracting
the law and not encouraged as to the means of escaping it.”’

‘The prosecutor turned his back on the lawyer and dis-
appeared into his room.

Presently the detectives led Joe out of the prosecutor’s
room and followed by the prosecutor and the lawyer they
entered an elevator which stopped on one of the lower floors

67

Dal eo he was through. The self-styled master crim-68 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

of the great building of misery. “There they all got out
and led by the two detectives entered a court room. The
floor was full of court rooms where criminals were branded
all day long with the dye of habitual criminals.

A case was being tried; on one side a jury box filled with
citizens; at its right angle the judge himself; at its left angle
the prisoners table and his counsel. It was the regular
American court room.

As the rays of the sun filtered through the closed windows
it mocked the tribunal and its weary work; it seemed to
challenge and threaten; it spoke with courage and seemed
to say ‘No matter what your verdict be I will shine out as
brightly .as if all the troubles of the world and all the
wickedness and the ugliness which infest human life were
past and gone forever.’

Joe observed the trial halted momentarily by the raised
voice of the kindly prosecutor.

“Tf it please Your Honor, I wish to indulge long enough
to bring to Your Honor’s attention a case that has been
pending in our office for some time past. “The defendant
at the bar. Joseph Cook, was arrested about six months ago
charged with murder. ‘The evidence necessary to cause his
indictment is lacking; the only evidence available is the
identification of an accomplice found dead on the premises,
one Frank Staco, who has been previously arrested with
this defendant on other occasions.

“I therefore recommend his discharge.”

“Yes, yes, quite so—quite a weak case,” chimed in the
Judge, “defendant discharged from custody on the recom-
mendation of the district attorney.”

* * * * *

A tall, lean, cadaverous youngish looking man with un-
usually round shoulders was walking swiftly on Lafayette
Street in a northerly direction; his step was light and he
soared on land like a bird in the air. Here he dodged a
peddler with a basket in his hand and now and then getting
out of the way of an easy going pedestrian just by the
fraction of an inch. Speed—speed—his one desire to getTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 69

as far away from the Criminal Courts Building of Manhattan
Island as fast as human travel can be consistent with human
endeavor.

“I must go somewhere ... anywhere...” thought
Joe; he was tossing thoughts about in his mind like a card
dealer with his cards. ‘Perhaps,’ he thought “the West
was not bad and lonesome country for him.”

As he sped on he laid aside this last idea with a curse;
the King had left him destitute; he had taken his last penny.
Joe realized he was flat broke.

At the corner of Lafayette and Spring Street a familiar
hand dropped on his right shoulder. It was the hand of
Detective Boenthal.

“Well, well, if it ain’t Joe. How are you old pal?”
They were indeed old friends. Joe had sold all his stolen
automobiles to an auto dealer named Abe Fishberg on the
strong recommendation of Detective Boenthal.

“Hear the news?” continued Detective Boenthal. Joe’s
silence was assent for him to continue. “Abe Fishberg, the
old Jew, got himself killed in an auto accident—got run
into. He left $300,000 to relatives that he never gave a
hang for—left no will, that’s why! And me his pal and
booster all these years gets nothing!”

He felt pretty bad over it; at least he appeared to.
“Sell your cars to Peters on 48th Street from now on Joe,
and I'll help you all I can when you get in a jam; and say,
don’t forget to mention my name with every car or I don’t
get my rake off.”

“Sure,” replied Joe as he waved his hand and continued
his interrupted walk.

“Some nerve,” thought Joe, ‘and so near Police Head-
quarters.”

He soon reached 14th Street; he shifted his body toward
Broadway and continued on up that great highway.

9

* * * * *

Broadway is blocked by Seventh Avenue at 47th Street.
That neighborhood to quote the words of a famous departed
detective, Frank Casassa, is the greatest of them all. There70 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

 

one may find the confidence man ever ready to sharpen his
wit and the pickpocket with his trimmed finger nails.
Honest police detectives like Frank Casassa always sharpened
their vision when in that neighborhood. It takes much ex-
pert knowledge to discern the thief from the visiting popu-
lation with whom they rub elbows along the congested
thoroughfare.

Among the many restaurants in that vicinity is Billy
Malinger’s. Before the days of prohibition it was known
as a Café but the only change since prohibition was to drop
Café for Restaurant and do business as formerly.

Billy Malinger’s was situated on one of the corners of the
block heretofore described; to enter one had to open the door
of a kiosk and walk down a flight of steps. “To all appear-
ances it looked like a public comfort station until the bottom
step was reached.

There a small counter would greet you with the proverb-
ial cash register; it costs nothing to enter, however. The
register is there only for those who depart.

The oversized dining room resembled a factory loft except
that where one would find a machine there was here to be
found a table. Here, there and everywhere, a table. No
more than four could sit around them because they only had
four sides; as for table room there was hardly enough for
more than two plates.

No windows allowed the natural light to enter within.
Nature was supplanted by gigantic arc lights whose rays
made brilliant color.

When Joe entered Billy Malinger’s the hour was close
to midnight. Here a lonely soul might be nourished with
the things that appeal to the night owl; loud conversation,
lovers’ quarrels, drunken braggadocios and all forms of
diatribe. “The place was noted as a fool’s paradise, and the
unexpected was happening every minute at Billy Malinger’s.

Since Joe was unaccompanied, his glance took in the
entire place, and he noted many acquaintances. Joe had
no money, but here his credit was good; the thief had
better credit in these places than the respectable element—
that was true of all questionable places of amusement.

A long skinny hand shot up in the air and beckoned toTHE LOOM OF THE LAW 71

Joe. He went down the aisle to the possessor of the skinny
hand. It happened to belong to ex-Judge Brawl.

“Glad to see you, Joe. Sit down and join us.”

Joe sat down. ‘The other man at the table smiled pleas-
antly to Joe. He was Phil Motz, a millionaire cloak and
suit manufacturer. After Joe was seated he ordered some
food and drink, and paid little attention to the conversation
of his table companions.

Judge Brawl and his friend the millionaire merchant loved
excitement; they always went where they could find it. Be-
sides, the Judge was now in private practice, and in mixing
with questionable characters strengthened his reputation as
a good fellow. Some good lawyers practicing criminal law
have to have boosters or “‘steerers,” as they are better known;
but with the Judge it was different. Since he knew the
crooks personally, and had no scruples against night life he
made it his business to get the trade himself; steerers de-
manded big percentages of the retaining fee.

Joe did not feel at all inferior to his table companions.
Times have changed; there was a time when crooks feared
not only the robe, but the man who wore it. ‘To-day the
selection of judicial timber is such a poor one that the robe
and the man who wears it are respected very little. The
great political system of picking judges have picked the likes
of Judge Brawl whenever a vacancy was to be filled.

Each table had its coterie of friends; there were few
tables in the night life of this resort which had not at least
one distinguished occupant. ‘The pillars of society who tell
us what to wear and how to conduct ourselves decently
sneak off into this rendezvous to practice their convival
habits. Bankers, Brokers and men of colossal business inter-
ests with ossified eyes that had seen abstemious days, with
new female friends every other night, would stop in at Billy
Malinger’s with nightly compunction; they mixed with the
sordid, the questionables and the so-called respectables in
search of excitement.

Judge Brawl, who was noted for his bon mots, accused
his millionaire friend of being useless to society in general.

“Tf it were not for the fact that you love food and drink,
I would say you ought to Oslerize yourself. Your life re-72 THE LOOM OF THE PAW:

minds me of the words of a poet who said: ‘If there be
an Elysium on earth, it is this,—it is this.’ You’re nothing
but a millionaire rummy.”

Judge Brawl then settled back in his chair and emitted
a bovine roar that added vulgarity to the already blatant
assembly.

“T’m not,” roared back Motz; “look you here! ‘This
receipt I have shows I gave two hundred and fifty dollars
to the Allied Charity Organizations. Ain’t I a useful
citizen?”

He waved the receipt in the direction of Joe as though
looking for approval of such a bounteous act. But Joe in-
stead shoved a newspaper to Motz.

‘Read this, Motz, and tell me how people come to be in
such a state of affairs.”

Motz looked queerly at Joe, while he reached over for
the newspaper. He knew Joe for what he was, and was
perplexed at his interruption of a friendly altercation with
Judge Brawl.

“What about it?” queried Motz.

“Read it out loud,’ answered Joe, with determination.

Motz read:

FUND FOR A NEEDY FAMILY.

To the Editor of the New York Times:

Mrs. Wells is the widow of a minister who left her penniless
with three young children to care for. Notwithstanding she had
no training for work outside the home, she left the children with
her mother and took a position in a laundry. Her mother is 80
years of age and physically unable to properly care for the chil-
dren, and the worry, together with the strain of working all day
in the heat, and helping in the home at night, besides sewing for
herself and the children, is wearing this little woman out, and
as the children have the measles at present, she has been obliged
to give up work.

Can you not see this broken-down widow with her three little
sick children and aged mother appealing to you for the necessities
of life? Will not you assist in making up a fund of $500, from
which a weekly allowance of $10 can be given them? Any
amount, small or large, will be gratefully acknowledged.

TTHE BROOKLYN ASSOCIATION FOR IMPROVING THE CONDITION OF THE
Poor.
104. L

 

— Street, Brooklyn, July 5, r9—.THE LOOM OF THE LAW 73

Motz looked chagrined, but quickly recovered.

“These people knock Wall Street and the rich. Why
don’t they stop knocking and go to work? ‘Then there won't
be such paupers.”

“Motz, you are the owner of Hutch & Lee, the rich Wall
Street firm, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes; it’s only a side line with me, Joe. I’m a mer-
chant.”

“But you are a big man in Wall Street, aren’t you,
Motz?” insisted Joe, with sincerity.

“Yes,—well ?”

“Do you call two hundred and fifty dollars for a man of
your means, charity?”

Motz could only point to other diners and exclaim:

“Took at those millionaire prize fighters.”

* * * * *

The panorama with its conglomeration of humans repre-
sented an epicycle. “The cycle of virtue in search of excite-
ment looked no different than the cycle of vice.

Prizefighters, wrestlers, promoters of theatrics, baseball
magnates and bootleggers—all millionaires, and all with
bovine heads and bovine stares, were bringing a new era
into post-war life.

The aside of Phil Motz put Joe and his mind into pro-
found thinking. Motz with his native instinct was quick
to note the almost melancholic attitude of Joe which his
clever action brought about.

“Jealous, eh?” he taunted.

‘Why not?” answered Joe. “I am credited by all with
having brains. But I am only a damn fool.”

“Who said so?” and Motz smiled in the most enigmatic
manner.

‘That crowd over there,” and Joe pointed to the epicycle.

A quick thought came to Motz.

“Say, Joe, give up that crook life of yours and get re-
spectable. I’ll help you do it. You got brains, by God!
—You’re all brains!”

That) soe”74. THE LOOM OF THE LAW

“Yes,—I know a good bet when I see it. Ill put you
all by yourself in Wail Street—start you off as a broker,
and then into the promoting and banking business for yours.”

“You'll back me and trust me?”

“Sure I will. Fifty-fifty, same as I go with my other
firm. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars is what we
start with. “The money is all spent for advertising; in other
words, ‘getting suckers.’ That ought to fetch in one mil-
lion the first year.”

“Who fetches it in?” queried Joe.

“Why, Uncle Sam, with his mail bag, of course. Are
you on?”

“Will that make me respectable?”

“It made me respectable; it’s made thousands of others
respectable. You know what I mean, Joe,—and stop your
thinkin’ so hard -

“I accept your offer,” said Joe, finally.

“What! You mean it, Joe,—on your word of honor?”

Yes.’ ‘trom, Joe:

“Good! Great!” and in less than the flash of an eye two
hands were interlocked in a clasp that spelled partnership
and loyalty.

 

* * * * *

Civilization refuses to crumble or tremble, in spite of all
the shocks that it receives.

Society loves taints and flaws. It is small wonder, then,
that to-day Society receives Joe Cook with open arms as a
respectable Wall Street man. For not only has he taken
his place on Wall Street’s list of notables, but has distin-
guished himself by his clever tricks in beating the market.

His gifts to charitable institutions are bounteous. On
the surface he is not only respectable, but honorable. In
truth, he is stealing with the same cunning that he formerly
did, except that Joe Cook has substituted brains for the
dangerous weapon.

Not in the clamor of the crowded street,
Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,
But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.
—LONGFELLOW.EPILOGUE

Chicago, Illinois,
October 17, 1905
Charles Gilmore, Esq.,
District Attorney’s Office,
32 Franklin Street,
New York, N. Y.
Dear Sir:

I thank you very much for your letter of the 4th inst.,
with the sad news of the death of Paul Armstrong and the
consequent failure of my play projection.

When I was in the penitentiary I used to wish I knew
Paul Armstrong, Augustus Thomas, or some equally pro-
ficient playwright, in order that I might interest them in a
story which to my mind has the elements of powerful drama,
—up-to-date,—and apropos of a much-needed reform. But
lacking even superficial knowledge of play-building,—I have
never studied one in my life,—and believing there is great
dificulty to the inexperienced in selling plays of whatever
worth, I never attempted to dramatize the story. One
which is based more upon truth than imagination.

Therefore, I would like very much the opportunity to
have an hour’s talk with a good playwright, and if you
know one such who visits Chicago, I would more than ap-
preciate your kind offices in making an interview possible.

Of course you must understand that I don’t intend to
go into the playwriting business. I am and will remain a
respectable banker. But the public would enjoy getting be-
hind the scenes, instead of in front; don’t you think so?

I have forgotten to mention in my last letter the real
reason why I elected to accept the proposition of Motz just
when I had already decided to give up the criminal life and
start out anew.

 

io76 THE LOOM OF THE LAW

The reason is this: when I turned to look upon the diners
pointed out by Motz, I saw sinners in heaven. It was a
feast of the wicked. I realized then and there that the
Loom of the Law was a dismal failure. My experiences
with that Loom taught me that it needs much improvement.
I was not going to furnish the improvement when society
mocked you as a failure if you did not swim with the tide.
I am now swimming with the tide.

You must pardon me, my dear Mr. Gilmore, for not tell-
ing it to you sooner. Since opening my Chicago branch |
have been married. I sought out Lucy Evans, the lady I
befriended in New York, and found her engaged in
the tobacco-planting business, just as she said she intended
doing. I was in love with her from the first minute I set
eyes upon her, but being what I was, I allowed time to pass;
and now I am happy.

She is enciente,—so you see there will be an heir or heiress
to my tainted fortune.

May your influence for good never wane. Please let me
hear from you soon.

I am, sir, yours in debt,

Jor Cook.

AvuTHor’s Notre.—Joe Cook is not the true name of this
strange character.

THE END.