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bracelets, watches, diamonds—made as much in a night
as he did in six months—only their occupation was more
dangerous. Now came the question—why more dangerous?
Because these men were mere clods, bold enough and clever
enough in their own rude way, but no match for the law,
with its Argus eyes and its Briarean hands. They did the
rougher business well enough; they broke locks, and burst
doors, and ‘neddied’ constables, but in the finer arts of plan,
attack, and escape, they were sadly deficient. Good. These
men should be the hands; he would be the head. He would
plan the robberies; they should execute them.
Working through many channels, and never omitting to
assist a fellow-worker when in distress, John Rex, in a few
years, and in a most prosaic business way, became the head
of a society of ruffians. Mixing with fast clerks and unsus-
pecting middle-class profligates, he found out particulars of
houses ill guarded, and shops insecurely fastened, and ‘put
up’ Blicks’s ready ruffians to the more dangerous work. In
his various disguises, and under his many names, he found
his way into those upper circles of ‘fast’ society, where ani-
mals turn into birds, where a wolf becomes a rook, and a
lamb a pigeon. Rich spendthrifts who affected male society
asked him to their houses, and Mr. Anthony Croftonbury,
Captain James Craven, and Mr. Lionel Crofton were names
remembered, sometimes with pleasure, oftener with re-
gret, by many a broken man of fortune. He had one quality
which, to a man of his profession, was invaluable—he was
cautious, and master of himself. Having made a success,
wrung commission from Blicks, rooked a gambling ninny