JIM THE TOFF.

King Country Chronicle, Volume I, Issue 10, 28 December 1906, Page 3

JIM THE TOFF.

Jim the Toff had acquired his sobriquet during the days when he earned a precarious criminal livelihood _by - the process known as hotel-barbering. Only the very simple are ignorant of the fact that hotel-barbering consists in taking a bedroom in a public house for a night, visiting as many other rooms as possible during the night, and then, like darkness, disappearing with dawn. Jim had been " pinched " by the police a couple of times, and served sentences of imprisonment. Having served his time, he roamed the world at large, and no doubt experienced a chequered career. He felt that ten years' absence from Melbourne would cause him to be virtually forgotten by the police and the public, and that he _ might with safety recommence business in the southern capital. His observations led him to believe that hotel-barbering was practically played out, that the dividends were small as well as uncertain, and that he must work a new claim. In hotelbarbering and in burglary there was a sense of being cabin'd, cribb'd, confined which was repulsive to Jim's inherent love of iic.dom. He liked elbow-room, and henceforth he determined to work, if possible, in the open air. . . He selected as his new pursuit in Melbourne a career of highway robbery with as little violence as possible. In the pursuit of business at night he invariably presented a revolver at the head of his client, but the weapon was never loaded. The but-end was sufficient to put the client to sleep whilst Jim, having secured his booty, made good his escape. . . Jim the Toff did a realty thriving business, for the unloaded revolver was as effective as a loaclfd en?, and, as Jim never made the mistake oi c pcrating in the same qusrkr of the city twice running, he contrived to dude capture. Late one night Jim marked down a client leaving the Spencer-stree't Railway Station. He was evidently from the country ; he carried a Gladstone bag, and he set off briskly towards and up Little Bourke-street. Jim quickly overtook him, and, approaching him, asked: " Can you give us a match, mate i At the same instant he presented the unloaded pistol, and added gruffly : " Now, then, shell oiit f> orl 111 blow blow your brains out! " This was Jim's usual formula, and so far he had never known it to fail. Frequently, however, the unexpected happens, as it did in this case. The client faced round, dropped his bag and knocked up Jim's pistol hand. As he did so he closed with Jim, and the two proceeded to do some ground and lofty tumbling. They were evenly matched, for though Jim k- his revolver and used the buttend of it freely, the stranger evolved equally dangerous weapon from from his hip pocket or his belt and plied it vigorously. Jim managed to tear this weapon away from the stranger, and-then he had him at his ' mercy. The issue was not long in doubt, and soon the country visitor lay still and lifeless as a log. " Not dead, I hope," said Jim, as he proceeded to " run the rule „ over his victim and clear the contents of his pockets. •'Only stunned,! suppose,

I'll take his bag and be off." He picked up "his revolver and slipped it into his pocket and then seized the Gladstone. Casting a final glance around, his eyes caught sight of something shining in the moonlight with a cold steely glitter. It was the weapon with which the stranger had sought to defend himself and which T'.ni Yrd snatched from him. "Mi>y ab well take that, too," he said.

He had not noticed the nature of this weapon in the exitement of the fray. As he lifted it up now and looked at it he started and muttered, 'Well, I'm damned!" Jim the Toff held in his hand a pair of police handcuffs.

He I whistled softly to himself, dropped the handcuffs into his pocket, with the revolver and the contents of his victim's pockets: he shouldered the bag and made his way at once to his humble and unobtrusive lodgings in a low quarter of the city. Here he looked through his " swag." The haul was not a very good one, but the papers and letters which-the bag contained fully revealed the identity of his victim. " No wonder he fought," said Jim: " I've had a lucky escape this time. Who'd have thought of his being a detective." " Murder and Robbery " were writ large in the morning papers. -A cold perspiration broke out all over Jim's body as he read the headlines. Pie had hitherto steered clear of murder, and as the victim was a detective he knew that the hue and cry would be keen. He read the account of the discovery of the body with fascinated eyes. He felt that the doom of Cain would now be his—that of a wanderer. Where should he make for ? As he thought, his eyes fell upon the last line of the report. " There was nothing on the.body of the murdered man to give any clue to his identification."

Jim hurriedly turned again to the contents of his victim's bag. He went through the papers carefully, studied the letters and the testimonials, and then muttered :

"There's the way to safety. It's a big risk, but I'll take it on the off chance."

When the new detective, Mr William Wickens, presented his testimonials to n\\e Chief Commissioner, the latter looked curiously at his new man. There was something familiar in his face. He had met this man somewhere years ago, but the circumstances of time and place eluded the chief.

I suppose we could never have met when you were In the N.S.W. sendee ? " asked the Chief. " But, no, of course not: you were only in the force there for two years, and I have not been over the border for five. And yet there is something so familiar —a fancied resemblance to somebody I suppose." Jim the Toff breathed again. He had not expected that the Chief Commissioner would have proved to be the detective who had arrested him many years ago for his hotel-barber-ing. Jim had gathered from his victim's letters that William Wickens had received an appointment in the Victorian force, and had been requested to report himself for duty. As far as Jim could ascertain, Wickens was not personally known to Victorian authorities. This was the chance he took, and it favoured him. He was told off with other detectives to try and secure some clue to the identity of the unknown man found murdered in Little Bourke street. There was no identification forthcoming. The coroner held an inquest, his orderly took: a photograph and stored the dead man's clothes, and then the body of a man unknown was committed to a pauper's grave.

Jim the Toff felt that his bold stroke had proved a success. No one would dream of looking for a criminal in the detective force. He flattered himself that he had dropped pleasantly on his feet and landed upon a novel and pleasant method of making an honest living. But one day a bolt came out of the blue—a letter signed "Meg," reproaching him for not having written according to his promise. It might have been sister, wife or sweetheart of the real William Wickens. Jim . could not answer for two reasons : he had no information as to Meg's relationship, and he had no specimen of the dead man's writing. There was nothin to do but to preserve silence, in the hope that Meg would grow indignant at his neglect and coldness, and throw him over. That idea seemed to work, for after another reproachful letter, " Meg " wrote no more.

" Detective Wickens wanted in the Chief's office! " came the summons.

The detective, who had shown a rather pretty woman into the Chief's, a quarter-of-an-hour previously, stepped briskly into the presence of his superior officer and the pretty woman. " That ?" said the woman ; " that is not my husband! that is not detective Wickens!"

The Chief saw the guilty start, and some trick of the c ulprit's face brought back a flood of recollection. " No," cried the Chief, jumping from his chair. " I can place him now. That is Jim the Toff!" The murder was literally out now, for Mrs Wickens recognised the photo of the body " unknown," as that of her husband. Jim saw that the game was up. He confessed his identity, and paid the penalty of his crime upon the gallows.