New-York tribune., 1921-11-20

for the day is past when merchant helps
burglars by turning out his lights and pulling
down the front shades-but the upper parts OF
the buildings are dark The Office tenantry has
flown for the night. No wife-in New York,
at least-believes the story that her husband
has gone back to the Office to balance his books.
She knows that the elevators not running
and that her husband simply would not walk
up from ten to twenty stories to his Office, even
if the watchman would let him in the building
But Broadway is not altogether deserted.
Peering in at zone arm" restaurant is some
one looking for some one else. When wa
reach the same restaurant we see nobody III
there, except the men at the counter. The
rush Of the One Armers has not started yet
When it does start there may be as many as
dozen persons in the place at one time.
No, Broadway is not altogether deserted.
A street car comes along, looking not unlike
armored car going through deserted
French city not so many years ago. One or
two automobiles buzz past. Bootleggers,
perhaps, or maybe Black Barts, cruising in
advance Of a job. Or they may be honest
enough citizenry just burning gasoline and
not caring where it is burned. A messenger
boy skins past on his wheel What are Black
Barts to him? He carries nothing but small
change and nobody is going to risk having his
fngerprints taken just on account Of frac-
tional currency.
Across the street and his wife and
child are hurrying for the subway. They are
the only pedestrians on that side of the street
for blocks. Yet scant four hours before
thousands were passing where now this little
domestic trio hurres along.
No, Broadway is not quite deserted. Down
the street ahead Of us come shadowy forms
four of them. Not Black Barts-iust young
people from somewhere in the nearby East
Side. They walking decorously, not even
holding hands, and they are talking anmat-
edly and are more interesting to watch than
the n1ovle-going couples few miles further
up this same street. Smashed is the old ilu-
sion that boys and girls from the East Side
all belong to what William Allen White years.
ago termed the hand-holders' union But the
young people quickly gone, their con-
versation swallowed up in the streets grim
sences.
Many Of the side streets along here were
farm lanes in Manhattan's agricultural days
The buildings flanking them seem taller at
night than in the daytime, and the streets
seem just much narrower. There is COM
on Broadway a policeman emerges from the
gray shadows-perhaps an extra put on the
beat since the mail truck raid His gloves
white and shine out with startling dis
tinctness. It seems as if Black Bart might
descry them blocks away. But the Police De-
partment has not yet learned from the ptarmi-
gan, the infantry has done, that there are
certain pronounced advantages in adapting
fho Cf ~
hue of the background. Yet it is safe wager
that the Black Barts themselves do not wear
white gloves, except in those hours Of social
ease when they spending the proceeds of
their hawk-like swoops upon poorly protected
property. The officer pauses at side street
and peers into its depths, but he does not
enter. Nobody does.
In the Yosemite, the haunt of the real Black
Bart, there are side canyons similar to these
narrow streets that empty their midnight
nothingness into Broadway. No doubt they
made excellent hiding places for the lone rob-
Der, who spread his saddle blankets and
smoked cigarettes while waiting for the coach
containing his victims. Change the scene to
one of these defiles joining the wider and
deeper defile of lower Broadway. Picture the
heights of the Woolworth Building in the dis
tdLcc iiiSIedO Oh d mountain, ana VISION men
waiting in an automobile instead of in the
saddle, watching for mail truck that carries
millions instead of a stagecoach carrying
hundreds.
Thus one has the drama of Black Bart
brought down to date. Not so romantic, per-
haps, nor 50 full of motion picture possibili-
ties, but unapproachable for heavy capitali-
zation of loneliness.
In fact, when it comes to capitalization BAN
ditry has been advanced to the class Of s'big
business" Among the old-time gangs that
preyed on trains and banks probably the Hole
iil-tne-Waii gang was the only one that eve-
finally escaped with sufficient funds to insure
a lifetime of ease That gang was headed by
one Butch" Cassidy, whose able lieutenant
was Harvey Logan. The gang operated in
nearly all the Rocky Mountain states 1t held
up bank in Winnemucca, New, and trains
in Colorado and Wyoming. Its last big job
was the hold-up of train at Wagner, Mont,
carrying shipment of treasury gold. In ehis
hold-up the gang secured $89, 600, which was
never recovered. Occasional members of the
gang were picked off. Logan was arrested
but broke jail. With Cassidy and the ren.zin-
der OF the gang the old haunt in the Hole-in-
the-WaIl of Wyoming was deserted IN f.vov