The Big Con (20 page)

Grift sense appears to be inherent; con men testify that experience may be helpful in attaining a high state of perfection, but all agree that the grift sense must be there first. Sometimes it manifests itself at an early age. Some grifters, like the Yellow Kid, who as a lad bought cheap watches from pawnbrokers or thieves and peddled them around Chicago saloons for as much as fifty dollars, possess it as mere boys. The Yellow Kid really sold his story, not the watch. The Jew Kid was roping marks for the Furey Boys when he was only fifteen; the Yenshee Kid likewise at fifteen was roping marks on the street for old Larry King. Joe Frog, as a farm boy in Iowa, was fascinated by the flat-joints with a circus and when he was picked up as a “stick” for one of them, his grift sense cropped out and he knew that he had found his life’s work; he followed circuses acting as a stick until he finally persuaded a grifter to take him on as a regular. Many of the first-raters started when they were very young.

Others do not discover that they have grift sense until later in life. Some competent con men are turned out on the big con after they have been beaten at a confidence game, when they suddenly realize that they have ability in
that line also; then, without benefit of early training or valuable experience on the short con, they go to work with a professional mob. Had Buck Boatwright never been trimmed on a con game, he would in all probability have continued as a successful railroad engineer and one of the best insidemen who ever trimmed a sucker would have been lost to the big-con rackets. Training and experience are of course important, but without grift sense they count for little, as can be seen from the ——— family. Two of the brothers, C—— and F——, are rated at the top of their profession, while Brother G——, who worked under the very best of tutelage, never succeeded. “G——was always a blank as a grifter,” said a former roper for C——. “His brothers were tops, but he just didn’t have grifting sense.”

In addition to grift sense, a con man must have a good deal of genuine acting ability. He must be able to make anyone like him, confide in him, trust him. He must sense immediately what aspect of his personality will be most appealing to his victim, then assume that pose and hold it consistently. If the mark is a wealthy farmer, he must assume those characteristics which he knows will arouse the farmer’s confidence and friendship. He must be able to talk over the farmer’s problems with sympathy and understanding. Frank Norfleet, a rancher, himself a victim of the big con, illustrates this point admirably. In his account of the swindle, he describes his loneliness, his desire to find some friendly face in a strange city. In his case, his wish was soon gratified, for Tex Cooper soon noticed his condition and promptly took him in tow. Norfleet found that Tex knew stock so well that he readily accepted him as a mule buyer.

Yet the roper must never leave the impression with a rural character that he is a sharper or that he is too clever or slick to be trusted. With business or professional men he reveals other facets of his multiple personality and, in
a remarkably short time, has established himself on a very friendly footing with them.

He must also be able to look a mark over and make rapid, accurate estimates of the mark’s financial status, his susceptibility to the principle of confidence games, and the best methods of playing him. “After the roper has been with the mark for a while,” says the Postal Kid, “he knows all about him and has decided what would be a good play for him. He feels him out about everything in a roundabout way, but the mark doesn’t know that he is telling the roper the tale that will lead to his downfall.” Says Claude King, a fine international con man, “A good roper is one who knows what to do with a mark after he has roped him. He must have grift sense and know how to handle marks at the critical stages of the swindle. He must be able to revive them when they are chilling and tell them a convincing story which they believe for the pure quill. The roper is always a fine judge of human nature. He knows how to play on the mark’s weak points.”

Once the outsideman has roped a mark, his work is just beginning. Then he must move the mark to the hotel (where the insideman also locates) and find the leather or play the point-out for him. This puts the mark in contact with the insideman and “ties him up.” These steps are, in themselves, little dramas which must be enacted with great naturalness; one false move and the mark suspects that his new-found friend is not all that he seems. If he acts his part well, the mark suspects nothing, for the sequence of events is built up with most convincing logic and plausibility. After the mark has taken the bait, and while he is making the easy money which prepares him for the final plunge, the roper has complete charge of him; that is, he has him tied up, although the mark firmly believes that he is keeping the roper under control at the confidential suggestion of the insideman. “Put a thief to
watch a thief,” laughed one con man. “I’ll bet some old-timer thought of that.”

During the long and often hectic period when the mark is tied up, the outsideman is responsible for him; the final success of the venture is held in his hands. The Postal Kid describes the tie-up thus:

“When a mark is being played for, he is never alone for a minute. The insideman tells the mark to watch the roper carefully so that he won’t tip off the situation to any outsiders. And the mark will always guard him faithfully. That is a nice way to arrange it so you can be with the mark all the time and see that no one gets to him to queer the deal or knock him. It is a good way to keep the mark in check until his money comes from home—which may take weeks sometimes. He can think of a thousand questions—all different—to ask you. You must have answers to all of them, or you might rumble him, and that would never do.”

“A mark will generally do what you tell him to do,” said The General Strosnider, “once you have his con. You can talk a fink into or out of anything if you are with him all the time. Any mark will ask you hundreds of quizzes. He may wake you up in the middle of the night and ask you some damn thing about the play or the insideman. So you have to be careful that you don’t get caught in a lie. That will knock a mark quicker than anything else. Marks are cute in asking questions, so you must guard yourself in all your talk.”

The constant “quizzing” referred to above keeps the outsideman under a strain which, of course, he must conceal from the mark. This is the most tiresome and difficult part of his work. Over a period of days or weeks his nerves become frayed, his temper becomes short, but still he must continue to lie fluently, suavely, convincingly, and, most of all, consistently. The outsideman must pose
as a stranger like the mark, but must, without appearing to know too much about the deal which is going on, be able to quiet the mark’s suspicions and allay his fears. An insideman reports, practically verbatim, the following tirade which the exhausted roper slipped out of his hotel room to deliver:

“Well, I’ve got this savage all tied up and no place to go. He is driving me nuts with that sucker-feel-out. Night and day he tries it out. The jug where his cush is, is an eye gaff [under Pinkerton’s protection], and I’m afraid of Old Poison [Postal Inspector Graham] getting the beef. He never quits and has never lost a case. You know that. And you smart gees have lost more men than there are rabbits in the state of Michigan.

“This fool is funny. He wants me to marry his daughter. He thinks he might get some of my end that way. Far-seeing fool at that. I told him the girl sounded good to me, and I’d go home with him after we all got rich. Well, I’m going back to the kipper and see how the savage is. If I ever get tied with another savage like him, I’ll duck. I’ll take it on the lam. I’d sooner be a lamster any day than be tied up to a lop-eared mark like him.

“So please come on up and give him one more spiel. It rests his nerves when you gab to him. He thinks you are the finest man he ever met. I put you away strong. Well, tomorrow the jack will be here, then to the tall and uncut ….”

The roper must keep the mark tied up until his money arrives, then he is fleeced and blown off, in which operations the roper has his role to play. In spite of the anxiety and nerve-strain connected with confidence games, a good roper enjoys his work. The constant excitement of playing for high stakes gets into his blood. Once he has felt the exhilaration of big-time confidence games, he is seldom satisfied with any lesser form of crime. He is content
to leave the short-con games for smaller fry and for young grifters who have yet to make their mark in the world.

Big-time ropers leave the big con only when they are forced to do so, and then only temporarily. If they run short of funds, or have a run of bad luck and do not pick up a mark for some time, or if they find themselves badly trimmed over the gaming tables, they always know that they can take off a quick, small, and relatively safe score on the short con. Most of them use the
smack
, a game based upon matching pennies, which is described in greater detail in the chapter entitled
Short-Con Games.
It is so profitable a short-con game that many a police officer, faced by a beefing mark, has scratched his puzzled head and concluded that any man who claimed to have lost $3,000 matching pennies must be an out-and-out liar. But good scores do come off, and very quickly, too. There is none of the careful build-up which goes with the big-con games. The mark is roped, fleeced and blown off all in the space of an hour or less.

There are of course hundreds of good outsidemen operating in the United States, Canada, Cuba, South America and Continental Europe. Con men differ in their estimates of individual prowess at roping, but probably there would be few dissenting votes among the good ones if we listed the following men as a kind of all-time all-American of ropers:

Bruce Upshaw, from Washington, D.C.

Frank MacSherry, from Seattle.

The Boone Kid Whitney, from California.

Limehouse Chappie, from New York City.

The Yellow Kid Weil, from Chicago.

John Henry Strosnider, from Washington C.H., Ohio.

The Jew Kid, from Omaha, Nebraska.

A good many con men feel that the Jew Kid is the best in the field. Says one, “The Jew Kid is, I think, the best outsideman in the U.S.A. He has been roping marks since he was a kid back in Omaha. He can always ride one in to be played for at any racket the Kid thinks will suit the mark. He is also a good deep-sea gambler.” Says another, “I know the Jew Kid is the best of the lot. He is an excellent cheater and has card-sense—which most grifters haven’t. He is a high roller at gambling, a good spender, and as witty a gee as ever you met. He never says ‘No’ if you want to put the bite on him. The best trait about him is that you get your end if it is coming to you. He is as right as rain. And that is a lot to say in any grifter’s favor. He stands six feet tall and was at one time considered the best-looking man on the racket .…”

While these men listed are probably the most outstanding, there are many others who could justly claim a place in the first rank as ropers. Some of these men are adept at both inside and outside work, but most of them are or were ropers.

While the outsideman goes out into the highways and byways in search of marks, the insideman waits within easy reach of the store, taking care of the marks when they come in, picking the boost for each play, giving the manager his directions, and handling the fix. He works under much more secure protection than is afforded the roper, for he has a pipeline directly into City Hall and has or can get all the money necessary to square anything that comes up. He works on a schedule with his appointments carefully made so that there will be no conflicts. He also keeps the books—such as they are—for the mob. These records include his own appointment book and an account book which lists each roper by his initials or a code-mark together with the amounts which have been advanced to him. Also, the insideman usually keeps a written record of, or knows, the address or ’phone number where he can get in touch immediately with any roper at any time. In the event of serious trouble the roper may thus be notified by the tip-off system and not only avoid the big store but be on the alert for detectives in whatever city he may be at the moment. These records and accounts
are usually very sketchy and kept in code, but they are nevertheless effective and accurate. The expenses incurred for each play are entered, but the income side of the ledger is left blank, for never is the size of the touch entered in writing. The insideman is the only one who really knows how much was taken (though the roper, the manager, and even the boost may have their own ideas) and this information may be jealously guarded from other con men; however, it often leaks out and becomes a subject for gossip and speculation. The insideman deals directly with the fixer (or with the police if he does his own fixing) and they have to depend on his word for their percentage, unless the mark beefs and they have some figure to check against.