From Boniface to Bank Burglar; Or, The Price of Persecution: How a Successful Business Man, Through the Miscarriage of Justice, Became a Notorious Bank LooterWhite, George M. (George Miles)
History
From Boniface to Bank Burglar; Or, The Price of Persecution: How a Successful Business Man, Through the Miscarriage of Justice, Became a Notorious Bank Looter
White, George M. (George Miles)
Bank robberies -- United States; Criminals -- Biography; White, George M. (George Miles)
I was firm, and none of his insinuations could move me. I believed
that these traitorous policemen who would plot with crooks--actually
be willing to take money from the enemy of the commonwealth--must not
have everything their own way. They saw I was determined, and, avarice
winning over all else, Jack McCord said:--
“Well, George says his share is only forty thousand dollars, and it may
be less than that, so I think we’d better accept his offer.”
And it was settled at this figure, whereupon we set the following night
as the time of the next meeting, and the place at the Fifth Avenue
entrance to the Washington parade ground, down-town. I was ready to
leave them at this, promising to be there at eight o’clock sharp. Now
that we had come to an agreement, I wondered if our meeting in the
park to make the exchange of money and bonds would go through, or
whether these blackmailers and crime protectionists, after further
consideration, would not, in their grasping after ill-gotten gain,
make a still further demand upon me. Despite the bold front I had put
on, I realized how hopelessly I was in their power, should they choose
to see duty before selfish, criminal desire.
“By the way,” said I, at the moment of parting, addressing my remarks
to Jim Kelso, “as the bond matter seems to be about settled, the next
important thing I’m interested in is my status in this city. You know,
as well as I, Kelso, that the New Hampshire authorities never had a
case against me, and the truth being told, I am absolutely innocent of
the charge. Isn’t it so?”
“It’s true, George, and I must acknowledge that you had a rough deal
down-east for an innocent man.” I watched McCord and Radford for the
effect this admission would have on them, but they gave no indication
that I could see.
“That being the case,” I went on to Kelso, “I ask you and these men,
believing as you must that I didn’t get a fair deal, not to molest
me, and if any one comes to this city after the reward, to keep me
informed. Is it a bargain?”
“Don’t bother yourself about a country sheriff,” said Kelso, assuming
the responsibility of the whole party, “for it’ll be a very cold day if
them down-easters catch you in this town when you have us at your back;
but of course we can’t do this--”
“Say no more, gentlemen,” said I, interrupting him, and speaking to
them all; “it’s not necessary. I shall rely on this assurance, and I’m
not asking you to work for charity’s sake.”
With that I handed each one of them two hundred dollars, and, bidding
them good night, went down town, feeling that I had invested six
hundred dollars not unwisely from my viewpoint. The next evening I met
Jack McCord and Radford at the parade ground and paid the former four
thousand dollars in large bills and received in exchange my bonds, and
was really glad to get them back at the price. As I was leaving them,
McCord asked me if I objected to telling him the name of the man in the
Cadiz Bank job who escaped with me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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