Seventeen Years In The Underworld - free ebook by Wellington Scott

SEVENTEEN YEARS IN THE UNDERWORLD

BY WELLINGTON SCOTT INTRODUCTION BY LYNN HAROLD HOUGH THE ABINGDON PRESS NEW YORK CINCINNATI Copyright, 1916, by WELLINGTON SCOTT...

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INTRODUCTION

The two of us were sitting in a large park in an Eastern city, one beautiful summer evening. As the rich afterglow of the sunset turned to twilight and then to dark, my friend began to talk about the old furtive days in the underworld. He told me how in many an American city he had stood before some house of an evening when the shades were not drawn. Within he would see the father and the mother, and the happy little children, and all the bright light of home. He would turn away abruptly and wal

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CHAPTER I EARLY LIFE

I was born thirty-three years ago in one of the small cities of an Eastern State. The family from which I came was well thought of, and what it lacked in the possession of money it made up in respectability. My life up to the fifteenth year was that of the usual boy. I believe I was a little more studious than the average youngster, spending much time and finding not a little pleasure in fitting myself for a future career. I stood well in school, being at that time one year from high school. My

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CHAPTER II BEGINNING A CAREER

I do not remember my very first act denoting criminal tendencies. The act which first brought me into the clutches of the law must have been the culmination of a passion nurtured by similar acts, but on a much smaller scale. A weakening of the will power, perhaps, by the pool-room environment of twelve months or so, was back of it all. Preceding the act which brought about my arrest I know I committed many other acts of petty thievery. Like yesterday that arrest comes back to me. Imagine a depar

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CHAPTER III PERSISTING IN MISDEEDS

Every lane, the philosopher will tell you, has an ending. Mine stopped abruptly. A check of mine was returned to the one who supposed me a Carnegie. Having a good description of me, he lost no time in notifying the police. Some ten weeks later, I walked into the arms of a waiting policeman. I knew him well as an old friend of the family, and besought him for their sakes to let me go. He couldn’t see it that way. Of course he was sorry for me, and all that, but he had a duty to perform. I put on

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CHAPTER IV EFFECTS OF GAMBLING

I have already mentioned the fact that I am possessed of a defective vision. I believe, and believe sincerely, that this defect of vision is a handicap to its possessor in the legitimate battle of life. It was partly responsible in my life for my extreme diffidence, a diffidence that became in itself one of the causes which led me into the environment of the pool room. It kept me away from those of good character, from the decent fellowship of girls and boys of my own age. I do not mean to say t

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CHAPTER V THE REFORM SCHOOL

I entered the reform school when a few months over sixteen years of age. The following twenty-eight months in this institution marked the crucial period of my life. The things that I found in the school, the environment, the indiscriminate mixture of the boys, regardless of their ages or evident depravity—all these steered me toward the rocks of a wretched career. I entered the school not altogether bad, and there was still a possible chance of making me see the error of my way. I was at the imp

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CHAPTER VI ESCAPE AND RECAPTURE

The life of the school for the first six months or so was uneventful. I spent the time in learning the routine, getting acquainted with the boys, etc. My first punishment came when I had been there about eight months. I had been put to work in the kitchen, working there each morning before school for four hours; in the afternoon returning again to work till supper at six. The kitchen work was supervised by a woman, good and gentle, but inclined to be supersensitive about the authority her positi

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CHAPTER VII DISCIPLINE

Punishments for escaping were usually severe. I was put in what was called the lockup. Each cottage possessed one. It was a narrow closet of a room about five by seven feet. There wasn’t a sign of a window in it, the door was made of several thicknesses of wood, reenforced by numerous steel plates. A narrow slit in the wall acted as a ventilator. There were no toilet facilities. There was no bed but a board, and there was no covering. My outer clothes were taken from me before entering. Can you

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CHAPTER VIII LIFE IN PRISON

I was taken to the county seat wherein the assault took place, and lodged in jail. My experiences in this jail were similar to my first experiences in such a place. I found there the same indiscriminate mixing, regardless of age. Of course I was a bit more hardened in crime now, and I suppose the environment didn’t have the same influence as it had much earlier in my career. I was confined to the jail for about six weeks before I appeared before the judge and entered a plea of non vult to the in

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CHAPTER IX PRISON EXPERIENCES

The State prison at that time was situated in the capital of the State. A collection of old and dilapidated buildings, expressive of the misery and the suffering inside, stood within sight of the capitol—a contrast of two extremes. The idea of the construction of the buildings was good. There were four wings, each converging into a common center. From this center the guard could see all that took place in the several wings. In the center were the desks of the “P. K.” and the center keeper. The P

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CHAPTER X CRIMINAL CLASSES

The professional criminal is a type little understood by the vast majority of people. Most people imagine him a type of man inherently and thoroughly vicious, with no saving grace in his character. The criminals I have known are not of this kind. Be it understood in writing of “professional” criminals that I mean the one known to the police as the professional man, the man who steals in some shape or another for a living, not the murderer or the ravisher, not the bigamist or the assaulter of wom

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CHAPTER XI SOME TYPES OF CROOKS

The “con man,” the bank sneak, the counterfeiter (of notes) and his allies, the forger, the big dip, and the badger man are what might be called the aristocrats of the underworld because their work requires on their part always a polished exterior. A good “front” (appearance) in their line is essential to success. The morning sun may see the criminal the acme of contentment, money in his pocket, a smile on his face; the evening shadows may fall on him pacing a cell in some detention house. Yet t

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CHAPTER XII MORALS IN THE UNDERWORLD

I left the prison with my moral sense warped and twisted. I do not mean to say that I had lost the faculty of differentiating between right and wrong entirely. No, not that, but association with debased natures and the influence of vicious environment had combined to break down my sense of moral values. Things which I had been taught to abhor as contaminating to health and morals I found myself looking at with complacent eyes. Some few persons have asked me whether before the commission of a cri

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CHAPTER XIII SYSTEMATIC LAWLESSNESS

Soon after leaving prison I fell in with an old “stir” (prison) acquaintance. He was an older man than I was, wise as to the methods of the underworld, and cunning in crime. He proposed a partnership. I agreed, and the following three years we wandered together over a good portion of the world. We visited the larger cities of Europe, matching our wits against the police, and, as luck would have it, always making a clean getaway. Of course we did no big work. Ours was of a petty nature. Tiring of

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CHAPTER XIV BETRAYAL AND ARREST

The Saturday preceding the Sunday of my arrest was one of rain. I was reading in my room when a knock sounded at my door; I opened it and found one of my acquaintances of the underworld standing there. He also was “working the rattlers,” but on a much smaller scale than I. I invited him inside, and in the course of our conversation he mentioned the fact that he had a gross of Stetson hats which he was anxious for me to dispose of for him. The proceeds of the sale he told me were to go to procure

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CHAPTER XV PECULIARITIES OF “YEGGS”

One night as a group of us lolled about a camp fire I was asked to join a gang of yeggs then about to start out on a trip. I accepted the invitation, and the following two years saw me risking life and liberty in the most dangerous of all the underworld pursuits. The life of a yegg is a life of stirring adventures. In the majority of cases each crime means a fight for a getaway. The yegg keeps to his class and is a strict observer of caste. He hates work as he hates the police, and carries his h

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CHAPTER XVI CONCERNING PRISON MANAGEMENT

During my career as a yegg I was arrested four times and stood trial in two of the cases and “beat” (was acquitted in) both. One case never came to trial, the other one brought me a State prison sentence of fifteen years. The crime was blowing open a safe from which we failed to secure a single penny. Such is the life of a yegg. I heard that sentence of fifteen years pronounced upon me with a feeling mixed with contempt and hatred. I hated society, I was antagonistic to religion, and the sentenc

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CHAPTER XVII MISTAKES OF A CHAPLAIN

One of the surprises of my life I received here in this same institution. It was a disappointment as well as a surprise. It was in the character of the chaplain—a minister of the gospel. This professed follower of the Nazarene was as little a Christian as I. The official above all others who should obtain the confidence of the prisoners was the man most detested by them. This dislike on the part of the men was well founded. He was sectarian rather than Christian, and hostile to all creeds other

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CHAPTER XVIII CONTRACT LABOR

The question of what to do with the prisoner during the period of his confinement has always been a difficult one. The system of leasing the labor of the prisoner to the highest bidder, up to a few years ago, was common in the different States. It was an easy solution to an intricate problem, and the State, looking only at the present, gave its assent to the method. It is a system particularly slavish in its workings, dehumanizing to the men working under it, and the source of most of the brutal

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CHAPTER XIX PARDONED

My sentence had been for a period of fifteen years. Allowing for a commutation for good conduct of two years and six months, I would still have to serve twelve years and six months. Looking ahead, the end of that period seemed long in the future. I did not dare to dwell on my time. Constant brooding over their misfortune is what sends so many prisoners to the insane asylum. I tried to spend my time in much reading and a little writing, yet the time seemed endlessly long. From five on a Saturday

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CHAPTER XX DIFFICULTIES OF THE EX-PRISONER

I left prison with the determination to make good. Association and correspondence with my two friends had brought to me the full realization of the folly of the other life. As the doors of the prison closed after me, and I stood upon the threshold of the new life, a feeling came over me that is difficult to describe in mere words. It was my first glimpse of the outside world in over seven years. During that time the range of my vision had been narrowed by huge walls of stone. My eyes were unaccu

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CHAPTER XXI REFORMATION

The underworld weaves about its citizens a sort of magic spell. I little thought, determined as I was to lead a different life, that I would ever again listen to its call. But I underestimated its influence over me. I had been out some seven or eight weeks when in company with a “stir” (prison) acquaintance I took to the road again. A fast freight took us away from the city back again toward the shadows of the underworld. I stopped just short of its boundaries. We lay the following evening in th

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CHAPTER XXII COMPARISONS

In contrasting my life of the present with that of the underworld I am struck by the similar characters inhabiting both. The men of the underworld are little different from those living a legitimate life. They are possessed of the same emotions. They work and love with the same intensity of purpose as do their brothers of the moral life. They have their ideals too. Strip the thief of his propensity to steal, and you develop a character of genuinely wholesome quality. The idea that the denizen of

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CHAPTER XXIII A PLEA FOR DISCHARGED PRISONERS

I would fain, before concluding this story, lay before my readers the cause of the discharged prisoner. I would ask the world to take him on his promise once again. If not to forgive, I would ask that you forget. The road to regeneration is strewn with many obstacles. The man leaving prison doesn’t know all of the pitfalls waiting for him. He imagines it easy to break away from the old life and start straight again. But I know better. I know the pull of the old life. I know the magic spell it we

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