XI
THE BANK BOOKKEEPER
A twelve-dollar-a-week bookkeeper in a prim New England town, withoutaccess to the funds of the bank for which he worked, stole nearly a halfmillion dollars and so juggled the books as to hide the shortage fromthe directors and from the national bank examiner for a period of twoyears.
The "faro gang," a band of master crooks, as well organized as thoughfor the development of a mining venture, financed in advance for manythousands of dollars, took the money from the bookkeeper as regularly ashe took it from the bank--took it all, but never aroused his suspicion.
The detectives of the bureau of investigation, Department of Justice,unraveled the whole tangled skein and revealed the ramifications of oneof the completest schemes for the illicit acquisition of other people'smoney that the history of the crime of the nation has ever developed.
The first incident that led to the discovery of this monster plot todefraud took place when two most staid and dignified of the solidcitizens of Bainbridge, Mass., happened to meet outside the FirstNational bank of that serene suburb of Boston one sunshiny afternoon.Their conversation led to an argument as to whether there was $186,000or $187,000 in the endowment of an orphanage, of which they weredirectors. To settle this argument they decided to have a look at thebooks which contained the record of deposits and withdrawals.
So these dignified guardians of this endowment fund approached thecashier's window in the First National bank and asked for the balance inthe given account. The official turned automatically to the ledgercontaining the inactive accounts of the bank, glanced at the balance andautomatically reported the figures there revealed.
"Four thousand five hundred dollars," he said.
So was obtained the first revealing flash into the affairs of thisinstitution which had stood as the conservative financial bulwark of thecommunity for a hundred years. Yet a week later, when the principal passbooks had been called in, and the experts had completed theirexamination, the bank was shown to be but a financial shell. Each ofthose large inactive accounts that lent the institution its strength wasfound to have melted away. A bank of a capital of but $100,000, it wassoon shown that it had been looted for more than $400,000 of thedepositors' money.
As soon as the shortage was evident a report was made to the Departmentof Justice, in Washington, which has charge of the prosecution ofviolators of the national banking laws. Expert accountants and SpecialAgent Billy Gard of the Bureau of Investigation of that department wereimmediately hurried to the scene. When they arrived they found that oneevent had just transpired which came near establishing the facts as tothe immediate responsibility of the shortage. The bookkeeper of the bankhad disappeared.
The bank was an institution which employed but three men; a cashier, anassistant cashier, and a bookkeeper. The disappearance of thebookkeeper, Robert Tollman, fixed attention on him, and it wasultimately demonstrated that he was the only individual inside the bankwho had anything to do with its misfortunes.
Special Agent Gard, who handled the outside work of the investigation,found Tollman to be a youngster of twenty-three, a mild-eyed, likablechap, who made friends easily. He was a member of one of those old NewEngland puritanical families that have become institutions in thecommunity in which they reside. Back of him were a dozen generations ofrepression, of straight-edged righteousness. At the age of eighteen hehad entered the bank, and at twenty-three was receiving a salary of but$12 a week. There had been no chance for advancement. At twenty-one hehad come into $20,000 as an inheritance from an aunt and this had beenthe one event of his life, up to that time.
The government's expert accountant immediately established the manner inwhich the funds of the bank had been taken. As bookkeeper, Tollman didnot have access to the cash or securities, and was therefore notconsidered as being in a position of trust. He was not even bonded. Butbeneath his eye there constantly passed those large accounts of the bankwhich represented its wealth.
It was about six months after Tollman came of age that irregular chargesbegan to appear against the inactive accounts. At first they were modestand infrequent. Steadily they strengthened and grew in size. Eventuallyit was shown that charges averaging $5,000 a day were being regularlyplaced against these accounts. There were weeks during which thebookkeeper had succeeded in abstracting such amounts every day.
The bank accountants were soon able to demonstrate the method of theseabstractions. The bookkeeper would give a check against his own accountto some individual in Boston and that individual would deposit it forcollection. It would be sent through the clearing house and eventuallyreach the bank in Bainbridge. The bookkeeper was always early at thebank when any such checks were expected from the clearing house. Heopened the letters transmitting them, turning the statement of the totalamount represented over to the cashier, that a check might be sent byhim to the clearing house. It was the province of the bookkeeper toenter the individual checks against the accounts represented. When hereached his own personal check, he charged it to some one of theinactive accounts instead of his own and destroyed it. So had he taken$400,000.
But the immediate task in hand fell to Billy Gard. It was theapprehension of the fugitive and the recovery, if possible, of all orpart of the money taken. It was in the course of the performance of thisduty that the ramifications of this case which give it a place among themost unique and complete crimes of the age were developed.
While accountants were revealing methods used inside the bank in gettinghold of the money, Gard was busy outside. Tollman, having disappeared,was to be traced. The first step was to establish his habits, to findhis associates. To the experienced special agent the groundwork of acase of this sort unfolds almost of itself. There were the people whoknew him best in Bainbridge, for instance. They told Gard that theyoungster had broken away, of late, from the friends of his youth. Hewas believed to have gone to Boston for his pleasures. He had a big redautomobile which, it was supposed, he had bought with the money of hisinheritance and in which he drove away practically every night. Throughthe whole of the last year of his peculations, Tollman, thetwelve-dollar-a-week clerk, drove regularly to his work at the bank inthis car.
In Boston Gard picked up the clues. Tollman was well known at certainhotels and cafes. At one hotel which was rendezvous for sporting peoplehe regularly called upon a very dashing young woman who was registeredas Laura Gatewood. It was at this same hotel that he became acquaintedwith an accomplished individual known as John R. Mansfield, who was wellknown about McDougal's Tap, in Columbia Avenue, and whose livelihood wassecured through alleged games of chance. Miss Gatewood also introducedTollman to a Mrs. Siddons, an especial friend of Mansfield, whomaintained a cozy little apartment in a respectable part of Boston, andwho had, in a dress suit case, a portable faro outfit which could be setup in her rooms upon occasion. There was also Edward T. Walls, a largeand dominant man, who had, of late, found poker playing ontransatlantic liners a rather precarious calling. But, finally, MissGatewood arranged meetings between Tollman and "Big Bill" Kelliner, wholived in Winthrop, not far away, was in the wholesale liquor business,in politics, and, as afterward developed, was a dominating spirit in the"faro gang."
With the development of the friendship with Kelliner began the trips toNew York. These two would meet two or three times a week at the Back Baystation and together take the train for New York. So frequent were thesetrips that the members of the train crews came to be well acquaintedwith the men, and to know something of their movements. They gave cluesto the hotels in New York at which these travelers stayed, and this ledto their identification by hotel clerks and other facts as to theirassociates. Eventually all this led to a certain house in WestTwenty-eighth Street and a consultation with the New York police as toits character.
It developed that in this house there was always running, on eveningswhen Kelliner and Tollman came to New York, a faro game. Here Kellinergambled and at first won and induced Tollman to try his luck. Theyoungster was allowed to win pr
odigiously. Again he would lose, but notenough to frighten him away. So was the craze for gambling developed inthe bookkeeper. But eventually he lost what was left of his inheritance.
Up to this time he was honest. But at the suggestion of Kelliner hestole from the bank to make good his losses. He lost again, and was inthe mill. There was no chance of escape but through stealing more of thebank's funds and gambling in the hope of eventually winning out. Thebookkeeper had entirely lost his head. He became consumed with therecklessness of desperation.
In the meantime the Gatewood woman had moved to New York. Also Tollmanhad become deeply enamored with her. So fond was he of her company, as amatter of fact, that he would often turn over to Kelliner and Mansfieldand other of their friends the money with which to gamble, while hevisited with Miss Gatewood. The members of the gang would go to somegilded restaurant and dine sumptuously and return to Tollman and reportthat luck had been against them, and that they had lost all theirmoney. On such occasions the profits of the evening were almost clear tothe gang. On such occasions, so the members of the train crew back toBoston reported, "Big Bill" Kelliner would sob out his apparent grief,because of his losses, on the shoulder of Tollman. The latter was thusplaced in the role of comforter. Kelliner would swear never to gambleagain and make his protestations so earnestly that Tollman would becomethe aggressor and urge his associate on and paint pictures of luckahead. So adroitly did Kelliner play this game that Tollman had beenheard to threaten to break with him because he was a piker.
For two years this arrangement continued. Kelliner, Mansfield, Walls,the Gatewood woman, and other accomplices, maintained themselves asdecoys that induced the young bookkeeper to draw ever more checksagainst his personal account and always extract these and charge themwhere they were least likely to be missed. Despite his long carouses atnight Tollman never failed to be at the bank in time to open the mailand extract the checks that would have betrayed him. Despite the loss ofsleep he was never so dull that he neglected any detail of hisbookkeeping that would have caused his accounts to fail to balance or toshow any irregularities that would have caused the bank examiner to growsuspicious. Unsuspectingly the stern old bank of Bainbridge stood withunruffled front until it became but a financial skeleton, its last sparkof vitality wasted away.
But this young bookkeeper of the gambling mania! What became of him?Those other aiders and abetters to his crime! What action was taken intheir case?
Special Agent Billy Gard eventually had in hand a complete understandingof the individuals and the methods that were associated with this case.He had reached the necessity of making arrests.
Kelliner was taken into custody. He indignantly protested that he wasinnocent of any criminal wrongdoing. Mansfield, Walls and Tollman haddisappeared. The capture of the latter was of first importance.
The special agent turned first to that primary command of the old-schooldetective when a crime is committed: "Find the woman." The resultsobtained indicate that there may be much in the theory. In the case ofTollman the connection with the Gatewood woman was soon established. Shewas not about her old haunts in New York. No trails were immediatelyfound. It was developed that she had originally lived in Kansas City.When any individual has got into trouble there is always a strongprobability that he will return to his old home, another detectivetheory to which Billy Gard subscribed. It is particularly true withreference to such serious crimes as murder, but it is to a materialextent true in all cases that necessitate flight.
Upon this theory Gard went to Kansas City to look for the woman in theTollman case. It required some weeks to find her. When she was locatedit was found that Tollman was not with her. He had been there until thenight before. They had quarreled and he had gone away. The cause oftheir quarrel was the fact that Tollman had no money. She had cast himoff as a dead husk. She did not know his whereabouts.
In practically every case of otherwise well executed crime theredevelops some element of unexpected folly--the criminal does some onething that seems, from what would be supposed to be his standpoint,inexcusably stupid. Gard was therefore not surprised when it developedthat Tollman had not so much as a thousand dollars out of all he hadtaken from the bank. He had made no provision for the time which he musthave known would inevitably come when he should be detected. This,however, was not the crowning folly from a criminal standpoint. Despitethe dash and cunning and the determination he had evinced in hislootings, he lost his nerve when his woman threw him out. He purchased,with the proceeds of pawned jewelry, a ticket to Bainbridge, Mass., wentthere, and gave himself up to the police. His nerve was broken.
The theory of "find the woman" was applied in the case of the third ofthe offenders, John R. Mansfield, the Boston gambler. The apartment ofMrs. Siddons where the faro game was, upon occasion, set up, and thewoman herself, who was suspected of being particularly intimate withMansfield, were watched. The watch was not effective, however, for thewoman disappeared with no one seeing her.
The janitor at the apartment house reported that in going she had takena particularly heavy trunk. Special Agent Stephens undertook to followthat trunk. He canvassed half the expressmen of Boston before he foundthe man who had taken the trunk away. This man stated that he had takenit to the Back Bay station at a certain time, and that it had beenweighed and found to be in excess of the baggage a passenger might carryfree of charge. This singled it out from the mass of trunks. Theexpressman remembered that it weighed 225 pounds, and that thebaggageman had marked it for 60 cents excess. According to the rate bookthis would have been the excess charge for that weight to New York. Thetrunk was thus located with sufficient definiteness that its number wasprocured.
In New York it was found that the excess trunk had been sent on to NorthPhiladelphia with the charge C. O. D. Here the record showed that thetrunk had been called for by a Mrs. Price, living at an address on BroadStreet, and the agent remembered that she had been accompanied by a man.At this address a Mr. and Mrs. Price were found to be living. SpecialAgent Stephens watched the Broad Street house until Price came out. Hewas none other than Mansfield. He was placed under arrest.
With confidence in the old detective theory of the woman, the specialagents applied it again in the case of Walls, the one-time gambler ontransatlantic liners. This was not done, however, until severalsuspected individuals in different cities had been shown not to be theman wanted, and many other schemes for the apprehension of the gamblerhad failed. For Walls was married to a very attractive and respectablewoman, who supported herself by keeping a boarding house after hisflight. It could not be discovered that she was in communication withher husband. Finally, there was developed another woman with whom Wallswas known to have been friendly, and who had a part in the activities ofthe faro gang. This woman's correspondence was watched, and it was soondiscovered that she was sending letters to and receiving letters from aman in Detroit, Michigan. Tracings of the man's handwriting were made asthe letters came through the post office, and when compared with that ofWalls, the resemblance was convincing.
The writer of these letters gave his address as a lock box. A specialagent went to Detroit, but the box had been given up. Two months latermore letters came to the same woman from Grand Junction, Colorado, andalso from a lock box. The postmaster was able to describe the manholding the box and the description suited Walls. But he moved againbefore a detective got there to identify and arrest him. There was achase of six months on such clues, always through the same woman, butWalls was still at large.
Eventually there appeared among death notices in New York the name ofEdward T. Walls. Subsequently Mrs. Walls went from her boarding house inBoston and took charge of the body. Suspecting that this might be atrick to throw them off their guard, the special agents took everyprecaution to identify the body. Eventually they were convinced that theman they had pursued so diligently was dead. The case was closed.
The three principals in this case, Tollman, Kelliner and Mansfield, weregiven 15, 18 and 10 years respectively. After t
heir conviction bothTollman and Kelliner talked freely to Billy Gard of the whole case andthrew some interesting sidelights upon it. Kelliner told particularly ofthe inception of the plans of the faro gang. He said it came into beingat Atlantic City where he and Mansfield and Walls happened to bespending a week-end. Kelliner at that time already had a line onTollman, and other possible victims were deemed ready for the plucking.
With these prospective victims in mind the faro gang was organized.Money had to be raised for the fitting up of the establishment inTwenty-eighth Street, which was only used when victims were in tow. Thisalone cost $2,000. Then there was the necessary expense money of themembers of the gang while they were developing their victims. There mustbe cash in the bank to be won when those victims made their firstappearance. Altogether it was a business that had to be capitalized forsomething like $20,000 before it could begin operations. But, as itafterwards turned out, it was a profitable investment if viewed from thestandpoint of Tollman alone; and there were other victims.
XII
PUTTING UP THE MASTER BLUFF
Did you ever go among strangers and pretend to be a more importantpersonage than you really are? Yes? So have I. There are many of us whohabitually take a taxicab when we go into a strange city on a modestpiece of business. Yet at home we would walk six blocks to save a nickelin car fare. I would not acknowledge to the hotel clerk, nor would you,that an inside room, price one dollar, is what, in my heart, I wouldlike to ask for when I say that three-fifty will be about right. And wetip the waiter, you and I, although we know that he makes twice themoney we do, and we let the haberdasher's clerk sell us a shirt forthree dollars when we should pay one, and the barber bulldozes us intotaking a shampoo when there is a perfectly good bar of soap at home andnot working.
For, to ourselves, upon occasion, we like to be the dream people, tosee ourselves as the great and dominant of the land, to step out of theeveryday commonplace of our existence. We pay the price of our temporaryemancipation. We may feel a bit foolish when the bellboy is gone and weare alone with the pitcher of ice water, but in our hearts it is worththe money.
Admitting this tendency to dissemble, how large a front of falsepretense could you put up, how important a personage do you think youcould make of yourself, if you should find all the gates open and wereinvited to do your durndest? And if you should, in a moment of abandon,summon courage to introduce yourself as the King of Spain or AnthonyComstock or Lillian Russell, and if you did this in a gathering that youknew to be made up of selected master minds, how well do you think youwould be able to sustain the part?
This is the story of a modest employee of the Government, drawing $2,500a year, who walked into a convention of millionaire manufacturers andwith no basis in fact for his claim, virtually spoke to these dominantand successful princes of industry as follows:
"Gentlemen, you are mere children playing at the factory business. I amthe master here. Please be nice to me and tell me all your secrets or Iwill cut off your supply of raw material."
It was such an assignment as this that one morning came over to New Yorkin the mail from Washington and fell to the lot of Special Agent BillyGard. The instructions said:
"The Northern Pulp and Paper Manufacturers' Association will hold itsconvention at the Waldorf on the 19th, 20th, 21st and 22nd. It issuspected of being a conspiracy in restraint of trade. Its deliberationsare in secret and the membership is unknown. Ascertain all action of theconvention and procure a list of the members of the association."
This action on the part of the Government was occasioned by complaintsfrom publishers of newspapers throughout the country which seemed toindicate that there was an understanding among manufacturers as toprices that should be charged for white paper. If there was such anagreement that prevented competition, it was probably reached throughsome association of which all were members. There was the Northern Pulpand Paper Manufacturers' Association. Its deliberations and itsmembership were secret. This fact put it under suspicion. Was it fixingprices?
To answer this question, Special Agent Billy Gard went on hisvain-glorious debauch of assuming an importance that was not his due. Heunleashed that tendency that is within us all and let it run riot to thelimit. But back of the dissembling there was an object to beaccomplished.
"You are President Van Dorn of the association, I believe?" said Gard ashe presented himself to that individual on the morning the conventionwas to be opened. "My name is William H. Gard. I am most anxious toattend your meetings."
"Are you a member?" asked the president, an incisive and businesslikeman of affairs whose factories produced 40 per cent. of the white paperused by the daily press of the nation.
"No," acknowledged Gard, "I do not belong to the association, but Inevertheless believe that the membership would be glad to have mepresent."
"If you are a manufacturer you may become a member and attend," saidPresident Van Dorn.
"I am not a manufacturer," smiled the special agent. "I am the man backof the manufacturer. I come to you to-day, but in the near future youwill all come to me. It is in the interest of the manufacturers that Iwant to attend."
"I do not understand," said the president.
"You of course know of the Canadian Northwest Timber Company," said thespecial agent. (As a matter of fact there was no company of exactly thatname.) "I am the representative of that company. You may also know thatwe have been accumulating lands covered with spruce timber for twentyyears. Our holdings now amount to areas equal to the whole of the Statesof Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont. It is not necessary that I shouldcall your attention to the exhaustion of the spruce of New England, norof other areas in the United States that have, in the past, been yoursource of supply for pulp from which to make your paper. The timbersupply heretofore available for this purpose is approaching exhaustion.When it is gone you will all turn to the forests that are next mostaccessible. We have those forests. I therefore say to you that all ofyou will come to me within the next decade. I am coming to you inadvance."
As the young man who claimed to be from the Canadian Northwest talked,the brusk manner of the president of the paper manufacturers graduallyrelaxed. He stroked his luxuriant, close-cropped whiskers in eachdirection from the distinct part down his chin and listened withundivided attention. The Canadian timber lands were at that time thematter of greatest interest in the pulp and paper world. These lands hadbeen something of a mystery, for their owners were evidently sittingtight and biding their time.
"I had depended on my subject to interest you," said Gard. "I came allthe way from Canada to get acquainted with the men who are going toconsume my product. I would like to attend your convention and addressit."
Gard's preparation for this approach and bid for a seat on the floor ofthe convention, had been most thorough. Upon receipt of his orders hehad found himself with a week in which to make ready. His first step hadbeen to get in touch with the publisher of a great New York daily whohad reported to the Department his belief that there was a white papertrust. That publisher spent hundreds of thousands of dollars every yearfor paper. He had therefore carefully studied the paper situation. Hehad all the facts as to the supply of pulp timber. He knew just thecrisis that the paper manufacturers faced. These facts he imparted toGard and the special agent saw, through them, his opportunity to reachthe confidence of the manufacturers and get all the facts with relationto their organization.
The convention was yet a week off. Gard had time to accumulate a sunburnand he went fishing down the bay three afternoons in succession, wore nohat and rolled up his sleeves. He was a young man of a lobster red for aday or two but of a deep bronze at the end of the week. With a touch ortwo of the woods such as a stout pair of shoes and a hunting knife whichhe found occasion to produce, just the right impression was created.
"There is nobody that the convention would rather hear talk," PresidentVan Dorn was saying. "There is nobody who has a subject of moreinterest. But admission to the convention is provided for i
n theconstitution and by-laws. Only members may be admitted. Our work isstrictly confidential."
"However, nothing is impossible," insisted Gard. "A constitution can beamended."
"The manner in which it can be amended is also provided for in theby-laws. It cannot be done in four days."
The special agent saw himself bound to fail to get himself admitted tothe convention. There was the advantage, however, of having been denieda courtesy to which he had a strong claim and this left the way open tothe asking of other important favors.
"Even though you cannot attend the meetings," Van Dorn suggested, "Iwant to see that you meet all our leading people and in this way you mayaccomplish practically as much. I would be glad if you would dine withme to-night."
"I shall be very glad to do so," said the special agent. "In themeantime you can probably provide me with a list of your members. Inthat way I can at least communicate with them all."
"That list is quite confidential," said the president. "I have no copyof it myself."
"But your permanent headquarters in Fourth Avenue will have it,"suggested Gard. "Can you give me a note to the secretary?"
To this the president assented somewhat hesitatingly. The note he wrotewas also a bit indefinite. It was not instructions to give a copy of thelist. It might be so interpreted if the secretary were inclined to befriendly.
So Gard went for his list with some inward trepidation, although the manwho pretended to hold the fate of the paper manufacturers of a nation inhis hand could afford to show no outward manifestation of it.
The secretary of the Northern Pulp and Paper Manufacturers' Associationwas a most courteous young Virginian bearing the name of Randolph. Thespecial agent knew the secretary was a Southerner as soon as he met him.The former had originated in Baltimore. After the manner of Southernersthe two discussed names and families. The special agent knew a greatdeal about the Randolph family. In fact, he said, his family had marriedinto the Randolphs in one of its branches. The lines were followeduntil it seemed that the men might well believe that they were cousinsseveral times removed. Incidentally they had started to be friends inthe way most accredited among Southerners.
Gard delivered his note from President Van Dorn and took great pains toexplain the position of the Canadian Northwest Timber Company. He madeit clear that his people were on the eve of playing a large part in thepaper pulp world. He wanted to ask Randolph's advice about certainmatters and he wanted to get in touch with some enterprising young manwho knew the manufacturers. To such a young man he might offer anenviable business opportunity. In the meantime he would like a copy ofthe membership list of the association.
It developed that there was but one such list in existence. It had to bedug up from the association's safe and copied. But the secretary wasfriendly to this one-time Southerner, now of the north woods; he was ayoung man who knew the manufacturers, and who would take a look at abusiness opportunity; he had the note of instruction, somewhatindefinite to be sure, from the president of the association.
Gard secured his list of members. As fast as a taxicab could carry him,he was away to his office, from which requests for prices of paper weredispatched to every firm on the list, in the name of the New Yorkpublisher who was helping the Government.
That night the special agent dined with President Van Dorn and other menhigh in the counsels of the Pulp and Paper Manufacturers' Association.His position was explained and regrets were generally expressed that hemight not be present at the meeting. Only the constitution stood in theway. There was no other reason why one so vitally interested in thewelfare of the manufacturers should not be a member. Information of amost exhaustive nature should be given him. Even the minutes of themeeting and copies of addresses should be put at his disposal. He shouldmeet all present.
So Agent Gard loafed about the Waldorf for four days. He was regarded,not merely as a master of finance who was the equal of any of themanufacturers attending the convention, but as the man of them all whoheld the whip hand. Morning and night he cultivated these men, talkedbusiness with them, asked them questions. They told him all that went onin the convention, allowed him to read its minutes. He was the mostcourted man at the hotel when the word got well circulated that he wasthe pulp king of the Canadian Northwest.
Gard, of course, had an average number of acquaintances scattered aboutthe country and many of these knew of his association with theDepartment of Justice. In a New York hotel there is always a chance ofmeeting friends from any place in the world. Gard was therefore notsurprised, on the evening of the manufacturers' banquet which broughtthe convention to a close, to pass in a corridor two old-time friends,men whom he had known in college. They hailed him vociferously as "Gard,old man." It was against just such an emergency that he had used his ownname.
The special agent was at the time going in to dinner with Randolph, thesecretary, and a member from Buffalo. Nothing would have come of thischance greeting had it not been that a paper manufacturer was standingbeside the two friends of Gard when the latter passed. One of theseyoung men turned to the other and asked:
"What is Gard doing now? I haven't seen him since I left college."
"He is with the Department of Justice," said the second friend. "He is aspecial agent, a detective working on big trust investigations."
And the manufacturer heard it all. He immediately communicated hisinformation to President Van Dorn. That official lost his urbaneequanimity and fluttered about in much confusion, consulting with othersin authority. He did not approach Gard, and that young man was allunsuspicious that anything had gone wrong until the time came forafter-dinner speeches.
"Before we proceed with the toasts on the program," said President VanDorn, who was master of ceremonies, "I should like to call the attentionof the members present to one matter not regularly scheduled. We haveall met, during the week, Mr. Gard, of the Canadian Northwest. Mr. Gardhas furnished many of us with facts that seemed to be vital to theinterests of wood pulp business. We, in exchange, have given to Mr.Gard much information with relation to the pulp and paper business. Ishould like to present Mr. Gard to this gathering, if I may."
President Van Dorn paused and looked expectantly in the direction of theyoung man in question. The situation was such that Gard was required toarise and receive the introduction and, as he expected, make a bit of aspeech. He rose to his feet.
"This, gentlemen," continued Van Dorn, "is Mr. Gard. As therepresentative of the Canadian Northwest Timber company you haveunbosomed yourselves to him. He is, in reality, a detective of theDepartment of Justice. You, gentlemen, are under investigation. Will Mr.Gard be so good as to tell us whether or not we are a trust in restraintof trade?"
The young representative of Uncle Sam was taken completely by surprise.He had gone so far with his work without being suspected that he hadthought he would get all the way through. But he had all the timediscounted the possibility of being found out and was therefore entirelyprepared.
"I plead guilty as charged," he said, bowing profoundly and grinningsomewhat sheepishly and boyishly. "You, gentlemen, have been, as we sayin sleuth circles, 'roped.' You have told your secrets to theinvestigator unknowingly.
"I most humbly apologize for the imposition. I was working underinstructions. Unless it can be shown that your association is inrestraint of trade nothing will come of the investigation. If you are aconspiracy you will deserve what you get.
"If I may be pardoned for talking shop I will tell you just yourposition with relation to the Government. What the Department of Justicewants to do with such people as you is to go to you frankly and ask youto lay your cards on the table--to open your books to the examination ofour experts. Before this is done it is sometimes wise to get a lookbehind the screens before the stage is set for the play. I have beentaking that peep.
"Four days ago, for instance, I secured a list of the membership of thisassociation. That night, in the name of a certain newspaper publisher,letters were written to every member asking f
or quotations of prices.The price lists are in the mail by this time and coming back to us.Now, if there is a great similarity in those prices, suspicion will bearoused. It is better that this and other tests be put uponmanufacturers before they are aware that an investigation is on.
"But now we are in the open. To-morrow I will call upon the associationto produce its books. It need not respond to that call, but if it ishonest there is no reason why it should not. It may be that I will askindividual members to show their accounts and correspondence. In the endwe will be very well acquainted. I trust that we may then be as friendlyas we have been during your convention and my deception. I will now bidyou good-night."
Gard's work "under cover" was completed. It was but an incident in therelations between a great industry and the Government. The next week thebooks of the association were thrown open to the Government. PresidentVan Dorn, whose factory was the largest of them all, volunteered accessto his records and others followed suit. So was an era of fair dealinginaugurated.
This all happened years ago. The fidelity with which the special agentlaid the basis of his deception is proved by the fact that many of thesemanufacturers are now getting their pulp from the Canadian Northwest.The name of Gard does not, however, appear among the list of officers ofany of the companies supplying pulp. The young man is probably now offon the trail of some other real or suspected violator of the Federalstatutes, meeting new emergencies, gaining new experiences, playing amodest but not unimportant part in the big and vital affairs of thenation.
THE END
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