Notes of an Itinerant Policeman Part 5

Shoved guns under their noses, an' the masons had to cough up."

A few nights after this experience, and again in company with my friend, George the Fourth, I applied for lodging at the police station at Ashtabula Harbour. We made two of the first four to be admitted on the night in question, and picked out, selfishly, it is true, but entirely within our rights, two cells near the fire. We had made up our beds on the cell benches out of our coats and newspapers, and were boiling some coffee on the stove preparatory to going to sleep, when four newcomers, whom I had seen at the "push's" camp, were ushered in. They went immediately to the cells we had chosen, and, seeing that our things were in them, said: "These your togs in here?" We "allowed" that they were.

"Take 'em out, then, 'cause these are our cells."

"How your cells?" asked George.

"See here, young fella, do as yer told. See?"

"No, I don't see. You're not so warm." And George drew out his razor.

The men must have seen something in his eyes which cowed them, for they chose other cells. I expected that they would maul us unmercifully before morning, but we were left in peace.

One more episode: One afternoon George and I decided that it was time for us to be on the move again, and we boarded a train of empty cars bound West. We had ridden along pleasantly enough for about ten miles, taking in the scenery through the slats of the car, when we saw three men climb down the side of the car. George whispered "Lake Sh.o.r.e Push"

to me the minute we saw them, and we both knew that we were to be "held up," if the fellows ever got at us. It was a predicament which called for a cool head and quick action, and George the Fourth had both. He addressed the invaders in a language peculiar to men of the road and distinctive mainly on account of its expletives, and wound up his harangue with the threat that the first man who tried to open the door would have his hand cut off. And he flashed his ubiquitous razor as evidence of his ability to carry out the threat. The engineer fortunately whistled just then for a watering-tank, and the men clambered back to the top of the car, and we saw them no more.

So much for my personal experience with the "Lake Sh.o.r.e Push" as a possible victim; they failed to do me any harm, but it was not their fault. They interested me so much that I spent two weeks on the Lake Sh.o.r.e Railroad in order to learn the truth concerning them. I reasoned that if such an organisation as they seemed to be was possible on one railroad property, it might easily develop on another, and I deemed it worth while to inform myself in regard to their origin, strength, and purpose. Nearly every other newspaper that I came across, while travelling in this district, made some reference to them, but always in an indefinite way which showed that even the police reporter had not been able to find out much about them. They were always spoken of as the "infamous" or "notorious Lake Sh.o.r.e gang," and all kinds of crimes were supposed to have been committed by them, but there was nothing in any of the newspaper paragraphs which gave me any clue as to their ident.i.ty. In the course of my investigations I ran across a man by the name of Peg Kelley, who had known me years before in the far West, and with whom I had tramped at different times. We went over in detail, I romancing a little, our experiences in the interval of time since our last meeting, and he finally confessed to me that he was a member of the "Lake Sh.o.r.e Push," and added that he was prepared to suggest my name for membership.

From him I got what he claims are the facts in regard to the "push." To the best of my knowledge, never before in our history has an a.s.sociation of outlaws developed on the same lines as has the "Lake Sh.o.r.e Push," and it stands alone in the purpose for which it now exists.

In the early seventies, some say in 1874, and others a little earlier, there lived in a row of old frame houses standing on, or near, the site of the present Lake View Park in Cleveland, Ohio, a collection of professional criminals, among whom were six fellows called New Orleans Tom, Buffalo Slim, Big Yellow, Allegheny B., Looking Gla.s.s Jack, and Garry. The names of these particular men are given, because Peg Kelley believes that they const.i.tuted the nucleus of the present "Lake Sh.o.r.e Push." They are probably all dead by this time; at any rate, the word "push" was not current tramp slang in their day, and they referred to themselves merely as the "gang." Cleveland was their headquarters, and it is reported that the town was a sort of Mecca for outlaws throughout the neighbouring vicinity. The main "graft," or business, of the gang, was robbing merchandise cars, banks, post-offices, and doing what is called "slough work," robbing locked houses. The leader of the company, if such men can be said to have a leader, was New Orleans Tom, who is described as a typical Southern desperado. He had been a sailor before joining the gang, and claimed that during the Civil War he was captured by Union soldiers and sailors, while on the _Harriet Lane_, lying off Galveston. The gang grew in numbers as the years went on, and there is a second stage in its development when Danny the Soldier, as he was called, seems to have taken Slim's place in leadership. By 1880, although still not called "The Lake Sh.o.r.e Push," the gang had made a name for itself, or, rather, a "record," to use the word which the men themselves would have preferred, and had become known to tramps and criminals throughout northern Ohio and southern Michigan. The police got after them from time to time, and there were periods when they were considerably scattered, but whenever they came together again, even in twos and threes, it was recognised that pals were meeting pals. When members of the gang died or were sent to limbo, it was comparatively easy to fill their places either with "talent" imported from other districts, or with local fellows who were glad to become identified with a mob. There has always been a rough element in such towns as Cleveland, Toledo, Erie, and Buffalo, from which gangs could be recruited; it is composed largely of "lakers," men who work on the lakes during the open season, and live by their wits in winter time. This cla.s.s has contributed its full share to the criminal population of the country, and has always been heavily represented in mobs and gangs along the lake sh.o.r.e.

Opinions differ, Peg Kelley claims, as to when the name "Lake Sh.o.r.e Push" was first used by the gang, as well as to who invented it, but it is his opinion, and I have none better to offer, that it was late in the eighties when it was first suggested, and that it was outsiders, such as transient roadsters, who made the expression popular. He says, in regard to this point:

"The gang was known to hang out along the lake sh.o.r.e, an' mainly on the Lake Sh.o.r.e Road, an' 'boes from other States kep' seein' 'em an' hearin'

about 'em when they came this way. Well, ye know how 'boes are. If they see a bloke holdin' down a district they give 'im the name o' the place, an' that's the way the gang got its monikey (nickname). The 'boes kep'

talkin' about the push holdin' down the Lake Sh.o.r.e Road, an' after awhile they took to callin' it the 'Lake Sh.o.r.e Push.'

"Ev'ry 'bo in the country knows the name now. Way out in 'Frisco, 'f they know 't ye've come from 'round here they'll ask ye 'bout the push, if it's what it's cracked up to be, an' all that kind o' thing. It's got the biggest rep of any 'bo push in the country."

The story of how the "push" got its "rep" is best told by Peg, and in his own words. I have been at considerable pains to verify his statements, and have yet to discover him in wilful misrepresentation. He admits that the "push" has done some dastardly deeds, and appreciates perfectly why it is so hated by out-of-works who have to "beat" their way on trains which run through its territory, but he believes that it could not have been otherwise, considering the purpose for which the "push" was organised.

"Ye can't try to monopolise anythin', Cigarette," he said to me, "without gettin' into a row with somebody, an' that's been the 'xperience o' the push. When there was jus' that Cleveland gang, n.o.body said nothin', 'cause they didn't try to run things, but the minute the big push came ev'rybody was talkin', an' they're chewin' the rag yet."

"Who first thought of organising the big push?"

"I don't know 't any one bloke thought of it. It was at the time that trusts an' syndicates an' that kind o' thing was beginnin' to be pop'lar, an' the blokes had been readin' 'bout 'em in the newspapers. I was out West then,--it was in '89,--an' didn't know 'bout the push one way or the other, but from what the blokes tell me the idea came to all of 'em 'bout the same time. Ye see, that Cleveland gang had kep' growin'

an' growin' an' spreadin' out, an' after awhile there was a big mob of 'em floatin' up an' down the road here. Blokes from other places had got into it, an' they'd got to be the biggest push on the line. There was no partickler leader, the way the James and Dalton gangs had leaders, an'

there never has been. 'Course the newspapers try to make out that this fella an' that fella runs the thing, but they don't know what they're talkin' 'bout. The bigger the gang got, the more room it wanted, an'

pretty soon they began to get a grouch on against the gay-cats that kep'

comin' to their camps. Ye know how it is yourself. When ye've got 'customed to a push, ye don't want to have to mix with a lot o'

strangers, an' that's the way the gang felt, an' they got to drivin' the gay-cats away from their camps. That started 'em to wonderin' why they shouldn't have the Lake Sh.o.r.e Road all to themselves. As I was tellin'

ye, trusts an' syndicates was gettin' into the air 'bout that time, an'

the push didn't see why it couldn't have one too; an' they begun to have reg'lar fights with the gay-cats. I came into the push jus' about the time the sc.r.a.ppin' began. I ain't speshully fond o' sc.r.a.ppin', but I did like the idea o' dividin' up territory. There's no use talkin', Cig, if all the 'boes in the country 'ud do what we been tryin' to do, there'd be a lot more money in the game. Take the Erie Road, the Pennsy, the Dope,[1] an' the rest of 'em. Ye know as well as I do, 't if the 'boes on those lines 'ud organise an' keep ev'ry b.u.m off of 'em 't wasn't in the push, an' 'ud keep the push from gettin' too large, they'd be a lot better off. 'Course there's got to be sc.r.a.ppin' to do the thing, but that don't need to interfere. See how the trusts an' syndicates sc.r.a.p till they get what they want, an' see how many throats they cut. We've thrown b.u.ms off trains, I won't deny it, an' we hold up ev'ry one of 'em 't we can get hold of, but ain't that what the trusts are doin', too?"

I asked him whether the "push" distinguished or not in the people it halted.

"If a reg'lar 'bo, a fella 't we know by name," he went on, "will open up an' tell us who he is, an' his graft, we'll let 'im go, but we tell 'im that the world's gettin' smaller 'n' smaller, 'n' 't he'd better get a cinch on a part of it, too. That don't mean 't he can join the push, an' he knows it. He understan's what we're drivin' at. He can ride on the road 'f he likes, but he'll get sick o' bein' by himself all the time, an' 'll take a mooch after awhile. 'Course all don't do it, ye've seen yerself that there's hunderds runnin' up an' down the line 't we ain't got rid of, an' p'r'aps never will. I ain't so dead sure that the thing's goin' to work, but the coppers'll never break us up, anyhow.

They've been tryin' now for years, an' they've got some of the blokes settled, but we can fill their places the minute they've gone."

"How many are in the push?"

"'Bout a hunderd an' fifty. Sometimes there's more an' sometimes there's less, but it aver'ges 'bout that."

"Do all the fellows come from around here?"

"No, not half of 'em. There's fellas from all over; a lot of 'em are Westerners."

"What is the main graft?"

"Well, we're diggin' into these cars right along. We got plants all along the road, from Buffalo to Chi. I can fit ye out in a new suit o'

clothes to-morrow, 'f ye want to go up the line with me."

"Don't the railroad people trouble you?"

"O' course, they ain't lookin' on while we're robbin' 'em, but they can't do very much. We got the trainmen pretty well scared, an' when they get too rambunctious we do one of 'em up."

"Do you ever shift to other roads?"

"Lately we've branched out a little over on the Dope an' the Erie, but the main hang-outs are on the Sh.o.r.e. We know this road down to the ground, an' we ain't so sure o' the others. Most o' the post-office work, though, is done off this road."

"What kind of work is that?"

"Peter-work,[2] o' course, what d'ye think?"

"Pan out pretty well?"

"Don't get much cash, but the stamps are jus' about as good. Awhile ago I was payin' fer ev'rythin' in stamps. Felt like one o' the old fourth-cla.s.s postmasters."

"Doesn't the government get after you?"

"Oh, it's settled some of us, but as I was tellin' ye, there's always fellas to take the empty places."

"Got much fall money?"

"No, not a bit. We don't save anythin', it all goes fer booze an' grub.

I've seen a big box o' shoes go fer two kegs o' beer, an' ye can't get much fall money out o' that kind o' bargaining. We have a good time, though, an' we're the high-monkey-monks o' this road."

Later he introduced me to some of his companions. They were the same kind of men with whom the Englishman and I had had the disagreeable encounters,--rough and vicious-looking. "They're not bad fellas, are they?" Peg asked, when we were alone again. "You'd tie up to them, Cig, 'f ye was on the Sh.o.r.e, I know ye would."

It was useless to argue with him, and we separated, he to join a detachment of the "push" in western New York, and I to continue on my way westward. Since the meeting with Peg I have been back several times in the "push's" territory, and have continued to make acquaintances in it. In the tramp's criminal world it stands for the most successful form of syndicated lawlessness known up to date, and, unless soon broken up and severely dealt with, it will serve as a pattern for other organisations. Whether it is copied or not, however, when the history of crime in the United States is written, and a very interesting history it will be, the "Lake Sh.o.r.e Push" must be given by the historian a prominent place in his cla.s.sification of criminal mobs.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.

[2] A "Peter-man" is a safe-"blower," and Peter-work is safe-breaking.

CHAPTER IX.