Page:Memoirs of the United States Secret Service.djvu/146

Rh Lame Sam was ingenious. A "smart old cuss," some of the knowing ones called him. And he was continually "on his make." But he followed his base calling so plausibly, so cunningly, so piously, and so carefully withal, that no one thought he was aught but what he seemed—as he walked about the town or city, seeking whom and what he might "pick up."

And thus he went and came, and limped about, an object of friendly sympathy, wherever he made acquaintances, while few suspected him, and none knew the rogue who travelled in old Sam's clothes—until one day Chief Whitley got upon his track, and followed out a little plan he laid to bag this tough old boy, who had so long enjoyed his leisure and his tricks, at the expense of the people amongst whom he journeyed.

The thick, stout cane Old Sam continually carried about with him was a very serviceable staff, and "really he couldn't get on without it, he was so lame," he declared. It was his constant companion, everywhere. It was a valuable support to him, indeed, and it was so handy that he never forgot it, day or night. But one day a Detective, under orders from Col. Whitley, "shadowed" this gray old sinner, and learned a new "dodge," before he quit the trail of honest, plain, respectable looking "Lame Sam."

The Detective called himself "Simon Rugg," for shortness, during this little enterprise. A great deal of bogus money had been circulated in New Jersey and down in Maryland, in small sums, and the attention of the Chief had been called to this grievance. So Mr. Simon Bugg was sent to look for the "shovers of the queer" in that locality, and directed to return a report, as usual, at the earliest opportunity.

Old Sam was in the habit of travelling upon brief trips of 6