Page:Memoirs of the United States Secret Service.djvu/151

134 "Well, let's go to the hotel, an' take a drink," says Simon—which Sam agrees to—though he would very much like to get of of this man.

Arriving at the tavern, Rugg calls the landlord. "Where's the $10 note?"

"Here," replies Boniface.

"Did this man pass it to you?"

"Yes, that's the man."

"What change did you give him?" "Nine dollars and a half."

The next moment Simon seized Old Sam and "went through him." He first found the landlord's nine dollars and a half in his pocket, then his own good marked $10 note, for which Sam had given him two counterfeit $5's, besides the reserve funds found (over $400) all counterfeit, rolled up within the cane!

"Where did you get this money from?" asked Rugg, now thoroughly sober.

"I brought it from home. I've been to see my sick darter," commences Sam.

"That's played out," exclaimed Rugg, throwing off his disguise of beard. "I'm a U. S. Detective, from the Secret Service Division. You're an old liar and counterfeiter. And you're my prisoner!"

The Detective lost no time in placing the "irons" upon the aged culprit's wrists, and after a brief journey by rail—the cost of which ride Old Sam congratulated himself did not tax his pocket—Mr. "Simon Rugg" had his prisoner before the Chief, at his New York head quarters.

However we may account for the peculiar influence or mental power which Col. Whitley possesses over such hardened criminals, upon these occasions of arrest, the fact remains that, as a rule, when once they find themselves thus in his power and presence, the victims cave.