Every good thing has its imitation, and this includes money. Counterfeiting dates back to the old Greek and Roman times, and the despicable business has been kept up ever since, and probably always will be. In some countries the laws are so severe that the conviction of a maker or passer of spurious coin or bills means death. In America the punishment is usually a long term of imprisonment. Nevertheless people of dishonest tendencies seem to have a mania for wanting to “shove the queer,” and are desirous of going into the business extensively if they can only find a manufacturer of bad money who will supply them. This demand has been the cause of establishing the trade popularly known as “green goods” business. The operators are usually in gangs, and they work scientifically. Perhaps you, respected reader, have received ere this a very confidential letter from one Johnson, or Bechtoldt, or Carruthers, or somebody else, (usually located in New York, Jersey City or Chicago) telling you about the “green articles” that they have to sell in denominations of “tens, twenties,” etc., and assuring you that they are “perfect in every respect.” Enclosed with the letter you probably found a clipping alleged to have been cut out of a newspaper, telling how a crack counterfeit dealer had been caught red handed but had passed the ordeal of a trial and had been acquitted, because the counterfeits were so good that neither prosecutors, judge nor jury would dare to say that the money in evidence was spurious. Yet, the clipping goes on to say, that it is well known that the money really was counterfeit, but had been printed from some plates that had been stolen from the treasury department, and were, to a certain extent, genuine.

As a matter of fact, no plates of money were ever stolen from the U. S. treasury department, and the so called newspaper clipping is a concoction of some ingenious rascal intended to convince you, if dishonestly inclined, that you can handle the “green articles” with perfect safety.

The letter doesn’t contain the address of the dealer; oh, no, he doesn’t do business that way. You can only reach him by telegraph to an address given by him, which is no address at all in reality except perhaps the location of a graveyard or aqueduct. It has been alleged that the Western Union Telegraph Company simply holds such telegrams and they are called for by the men who expect them and whose swindling game is understood by the telegraph people. The swindler sends back an answer by letter, telling the countryman to come on at once, and saying that he will meet him upon his arrival at the depot, or at some hotel, and one is to know the other by means of a colored handkerchief, a peculiar way of carrying the cane, or some other signal.

Well, the countryman goes to the city, meets the knave who shows him in some quiet room, a package of crisp bills. The countryman opens his eyes wide and visions of sudden wealth flit through his brain. Mr. Counterfeiter suggests that they try some of the bills and see whether or not they will pass without detection. They drop into a saloon, and courteous Mr. Counterfeiter insists that the other have a drink. Perhaps Mr. Wayback may be a prohibitionist, but that doesn’t matter as he will certainly be willing to drink a little pop beer or ginger ale, just to be social. The city rascal doesn’t even need to wink at the bartender to cause the latter to drug the drink, as he is well paid by the gang, and before the countryman and the city rascal have got far Mr. Wayback begins to feel stupid, and can be easily induced to go anywhere his leader suggests while they are “trying the counterfeit money.” However, the bills are just as good as gold, being absolutely genuine, and the “dealer in bad money” can safely lead his confiding friend into any bank, and have one or two bills changed, just to convince the jay. Perhaps Mr. Wayback is so thoroughly drugged that he falls asleep when landed in one of the out-of-the-way rooms of the gang. In that case it is an easy matter to drug him more and rob him of all the good money he possesses, then take him out after nightfall and leave him to sleep off the effects of his potion in some alleyway.

On the other hand, if the would be rascal of a countryman keeps awake he will be introduced to one or two other jolly good fellows, and a transaction will be made in the aforementioned room. The two or three thousand dollars in real money (which the countryman supposes to be excellent counterfeits) will be wrapped in a package and sealed. Then the jay will be asked to produce the $300 or $500 that he is to pay for the pile. While he is doing this, one of the confederates adroitly substitutes another package for the one on the table, being exactly similar in outward appearance and weight, but filled with sawdust. Mr. Wayback doesn’t see all this, and the crooks are very clever withal. About the time that he has his good money counted to pay over, one of the gang looks out the window, whispers that two detectives are approaching, and they suddenly skip, one of them, of course, grabbing the countryman’s payment, and hastily suggesting that he take his package and get out of the city as soon as possible. This he will do, and ultimately find out how he has been swindled.

But what can he do?

He intended to be dishonest, and if he complains to the police he will be liable to arrest. The swindlers have got his money, he has obtained the experience and goes home a sadder but wiser man.

This game is worked all the year around and it is astonishing how new “suckers” are obtained so readily. Police and post office officials use all sorts of methods to kill the business but their success is limited. The “green goods” men make large sums of money and live high.

To all who are looking for counterfeit money let us say, “Don’t.” You cannot get it anyhow, but even if you could, the chances are nine in ten that you would soon occupy a felon’s cell. Seldom a counterfeiter goes free for long, no matter how clever he may be. Frequently the styles of “green goods” invitations are altered, and to one who is bound to be dishonest, it might appear that, after all, the special scheme offered him may be all right—that is, dishonestly all right—and that the counterfeit money can be obtained after negotiations. But it can’t. We do not deny but that spurious money is passed, but only in the inner circle of crookdom are such things arranged, and it would be as easy for a camel to walk through a key-hole as for any but a “cut and dried” old time crook to get an “inside” on the counterfeit money business.

Be honest; it pays. The writer sincerely hopes that this little volume may be the means of saving the money of many a man, and of diverting his ideas in a more legitimate direction. Let such as are tempted by the “green goods” monster, and who have money that they could invest, put such money in the savings bank at a small per cent. The result will be a fair income, but better still, a clear conscience.