The process was repeated, and this time ninety dollars changed hands; but the wire-tapper was evidently nervous and anxious to be gone, and when my companion tentatively suggested a third attempt he refused point-blank, on the ground that if he won any more that day it would arouse suspicion. This objection, however, was overruled by the other offering to place the money himself. “And we’ll make the amount worth while; shall we?” he added, turning to me. “Do you feel inclined to join me in a hundred-dollar bet?” Fifty dollars meant a good deal to me then, but the two or three hundred it would bring in meant a great deal more, so I took the plunge. After another note had changed hands between the wire-tapper and the boy, he told us to back Rough Diamond for the next race, and threw in fifty dollars as his own stake; then we took up our position on the opposite pavement and waited expectantly. To my surprise my companion soon appeared and exultantly informed us that he had succeeded in placing our stake on Rough Diamond to win at three to one. “To win?” roared the wire-tapper. “Yes, to win,” retorted the other, feebly. The wire-tapper literally danced on the pavement. “You fool!” he spluttered; “I told you to back the horse for a _place_ this time--it has come in third.” He turned to me. “Didn’t I say for a place?” he snapped, vehemently. But I took no further interest in the proceedings. In Western parlance, I had been “done brown.” The men were confederates, and all that was left for me to do was to swallow my medicine without grimacing. So I smiled blandly, congratulated them on their acting, and left them to marvel at man’s credulity. It all sounds very foolish and easy, set down in black and white, but the San Franciscan “confidence man,” by long and unhampered practice, has reduced his methods to a fine art; and although it is hardly likely that any respectable, level-headed reader of THE WIDE WORLD would fall a victim to his wiles, such a thing has been known to occur to others, and if the foregoing personal experience helps to put these on their guard, the purpose of its recounting will be served. II.--A SHARP LESSON. BY R. L. C. MORRISON. In November of the year 1885, when I had reached the mature age of seventeen, I found myself in Glasgow, my native city, in the service of an uncle of mine named Mr. James Thomson, who was a merchant tailor and Colonial outfitter in Hope Street. One afternoon towards the end of the month my uncle gave me instructions to call at the offices of a well-known firm in the neighbourhood of Jamaica Street. I was to collect an account, whose total represented a substantial sum, and give a receipt for the money. There would, I was told, be no difficulty about drawing what was due, as the firm in question had duly intimated to my uncle that if he would present the account on a certain date payment would be made then and there.