ARTHUR.T Stories ------The Franklin Syndicate --V---Page 26

The beginning of the end, however, was now in sight--at least for the

keen vision of Bob Ammon. He advised stimulating deposits and laying hands on all the money possible before the crash came. Accordingly Miller sent a telegram (collect) to all depositors:

We have inside information of a big transaction, to begin Saturday
or Monday morning. Big profits. Remit at once so as to receive the
profits.

WILLIAM F. MILLER,
Franklin Syndicate.

A thousand or so were returned, the depositors having refused to pay the charges. The rest of the customers in large measure responded. But the game was nearly up. There were scare-heads in the papers. Miller saw detectives on every corner, and, like a rat leaving a sinking ship,
Schlessinger scuttled away for the last time with a bag of money on the evening of Tuesday, November 21st, 1899. The rest of the deposits were crammed into Miller's desk and left there over night.

The next morning Miller returned to Floyd Street and spent that day in the usual routine, and also on Thursday remained until about twelve o'clock noon, when he placed thirty thousand five hundred dollars in bills in a satchel and started for Ammon's office, where he found
Schlessinger--likewise with a satchel.

"The jig's up," announced Schlessinger.

"Billy, I think you'll have to make a run for it," said Ammon. "The best thing for you is to go to Canada."

It still remained to secure the money, which Miller had deposited in the
banks, in such a way that the customers could not get hold of it. Ammon
explained how that could easily be done. The money should be all turned
over to him, and none of the creditors would ever see it again. He did
not deem it necessary to suggest that neither would Miller. Accordingly
the two, the lawyer and the client, went to the office of Wells, Fargo &
Co., Ammon obligingly carrying the satchel containing the thirty
thousand five hundred dollars. Here Ammon deposited the contents to his
own account, as well as the certificate of deposit for one hundred
thousand dollars previously mentioned, and a check for ten thousand
dollars, representing the balance of Miller's loot. In addition to this
he received an order for forty thousand dollars United States Government
bonds, which were on deposit with Wells, Fargo & Co., and later, through
Miller's father, sixty-five thousand dollars in bonds of the New York
Central Railroad and the United States Government. Thus Ammon secured
from his dupe the sum of two hundred and forty-five thousand five
hundred dollars, the actual market value of the securities bringing the
amount up to two hundred and fifty thousand five hundred dollars,
besides whatever sums he had been paid by Miller for legal services,
which could not have been less than ten or fifteen thousand dollars. The
character of the gentleman is well illustrated by the fact that later
when paying Mrs. Miller her miserable pittance of five dollars per week,
he explained to her that "he was giving her that out of his own money,
and that her husband _owed him_."

[Illustration: Ammon's deposit slips and a receipt signed by Mrs. Ammon.]

There still remained, however, the chance of getting a few dollars more
and Ammon advised Miller "to try to get Friday's receipts, which were
the heaviest day's business." Acting on this suggestion, Miller
returned to Floyd Street the next morning at about half past nine,
finding a great crowd of people waiting outside. About one o'clock he
started to go home, but discovering that he was being followed by a man
whom he took to be a detective, he boarded a street car, dodged through
a drug store and a Chinese laundry, finally made the elevated railroad,
with his pursuer at his heels, and eventually reached the lawyer's

office about two o'clock in the afternoon. Word was received almost
immediately over the telephone that Miller had been indicted in Kings
County for conspiracy to defraud, and Ammon stated that the one thing
for Miller to do was to go away. Miller replied that he did not want to
go unless he could take his wife and baby with him, but Ammon assured
him that he would send them to Canada later in charge of his own wife.
Under this promise Miller agreed to go, and Ammon procured a man named
Enright to take Miller to Canada, saying that "he was an ex-detective
and could get him out of the way." Ammon further promised to forward to
Miller whatever money he might need to retain lawyers for him in
Montreal. Thereupon Miller exchanged hats with some one in Ammon's
office and started for Canada in the custody of the lawyer's
representative.

How the wily colonel must have chuckled as poor Miller trotted down the

stairs like a sheep leaving his fleece behind him. A golden fleece

indeed! Did ever a lawyer have such a piece of luck? Here was a little

fellow who had invented a brilliant scheme to get away with other

people's money and had carried it through successfully--more than

successfully, beyond the dreams of even the most avaricious criminal,

and then, richer than Midas, had handed over the whole jolly fortune to

another for the other's asking, without even taking a scrap of paper to

show for it. More than that, he had then voluntarily extinguished

himself. Had Ammon not chuckled he would not have been Bob Ammon. The
money was stolen, to be sure, but Ammon's skirts were clear. There was
nothing to show that the two hundred and forty-five thousand dollars he
had received was stolen money. There was only one man--a discredited
felon, who could hint that the money was even "tainted," and _he_ was
safely over the border, in a foreign jurisdiction, not in the custody of
the police, but of Ammon himself, to be kept there (as Mr. Robert C.
Taylor so aptly phrased it in arguing Ammon's case on appeal) "on
waiting orders. Ammon had Miller on a string, and as soon as Ammon (for
his own sake) was compelled either to produce Miller or to run the risk
of indictment, he pulled the string and brought Miller back into the
jurisdiction."

Needless to say great was the ado made over the disappearance of the
promoter of the Franklin Syndicate, and the authorities of King's County
speedily let it become known that justice required that some one should
be punished for the colossal fraud which had been perpetrated. The grand
jury of the county started a general investigation. Public indignation
was stirred to the point of ebullition. In the midst of the rumpus,
there came a knock on the office door of the Hon. John F. Clark,
District Attorney of King's County, and Col. Robert A. Ammon announced
himself. The two men were entire strangers to each other but this did
not prevent Ammon, with his inimitable assurance, from addressing the
District Attorney by his first name.

"How are you, John?" he inquired nonchalantly, "what can I do for you?"