_The Inmates--The Victims--The Gains--Complete Exposure of the Manner of Operations, and how Unsuspecting Persons are Robbed._ Some years since respectable New York was startled and horrified by the recitals of criminal life, which, in the fulfillment of a disagreeable public duty, the daily newspapers printed in their news columns. The stirring appeal for the suppression of the evil then made by the press to the moral sentiment of the community, was backed by the judiciary, by the money and influence of wealthy and patriotic citizens, by the various charitable organizations, and by the whole police force. Consequently, the foul Augean stable of vice and iniquity, for the time being, at least, was in a great degree cleansed and purified. The leaders of that foul army of vicious men and women were gradually rooted out and driven away from their noxious haunts. Some found a congenial haven in the State prison, a few reformed, and many died in want. The plague being temporarily stayed, and popular indignation a matter of record, New York, as is its invariable custom, permitted its vigilance to go quietly to sleep, with a fair prospect of it being rudely awakened to find history repeating itself. That this awakening cannot safely be much longer deferred, it is partly the mission of the present chapter to show. For it is useless to deny that we have in this city to-day, a condition of affairs very similar to that which aroused the indignation and called for the severe repressional measures of our immediate predecessors. Up-town, in many instances closely contiguous to the dwellings of people of the highest respectability, there are dens as vile and infamous as ever disgraced any civilized community. Hardly a street, however apparently exclusive and fashionable, can boast that it is free from gambling, prostitution or panel houses. Some time since, a journalist connected with a prominent morning paper, took great pains to collect statistics concerning houses of prostitution in New York. The article in which the results of his investigation were given, estimates that over $15,000,000 was invested in that business, and that the yearly amount spent in those houses averaged over $10,000,000. In this chapter, however, the reader's attention is more particularly invited to the class of assignation and prostitution bagnios, known as panel houses. The name "panel house" was originally derived from a false impression prevalent in the community, that the rooms occupied by the inmates were fitted with sliding panels in the walls and partitions, through and by means of which most of the robberies were committed. But, as will be seen hereafter, the term is a misnomer, so far as the fact is concerned. But they had to have some distinctive appellation, and "panel house" is a convenient generic term.