About the Work
The Right Way to Do Wrong: An Exposé of Successful Criminals is an early-twentieth-century work by Harry Houdini, the celebrated magician and escape artist who was widely known as the “Handcuff King and Jail Breaker.” The book is a detailed examination of the criminal underworld, written with the stated purpose of safeguarding the public by exposing the tricks, methods, and habits of professional criminals. It is illustrated by Henry Grossman Grover and was printed by The Barta Press in Boston, where Houdini himself served as publisher. The volume bears a copyright notice from 1906 and includes a library inscription indicating it came from the bequest of Evert Jansen Wendell.
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The work is structured as a series of twenty chapters, or “shots,” as Houdini calls them, each addressing a different facet of criminal activity. These range from professional burglary and pickpocketing to begging swindles, confidence games, counterfeiting, and even the criminal activities of women. The book draws on Houdini’s personal experiences and his claimed acquaintanceship with police chiefs and famous detectives from around the world. He presents the material as having been collected personally over many years, lending the work an air of firsthand authority. The tone is at once instructive and entertaining, blending practical advice for self-protection with anecdotal stories of criminal exploits, some humorous and some cautionary.
The book is notable for its dual character: it is part exposé, part entertainment. Houdini explicitly states that his object is twofold: first, to safeguard the public by revealing the adroit methods of criminals, paraphrasing the proverb “knowledge is power” as “knowledge is safety”; and second, to provide reading that is both entertaining and instructive. The work reflects the sensibilities of its era, with its fascination for the shadowy world of professional crime and its confidence in the power of exposure and education to combat it. The book survives today as a historical document, offering insight into both the criminal methods of the period and the public’s appetite for tales of the underworld.
Context
The book emerges from a period of intense public fascination with crime and detection. The late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries saw the rise of the professional detective, the development of modern police machinery, and a popular literature that romanticized both the criminal and the detective. Houdini himself acknowledges this cultural backdrop, noting that novels and sensational press reports have created a general impression that criminals are well paid and live glamorous lives. His book is, in part, a corrective to these romanticized portrayals, offering instead a more sober assessment of the criminal life as one that ultimately does not pay.
Houdini’s own position as a performer and escape artist gives him a unique vantage point. He was famous for escaping from handcuffs, jail cells, and other restraints, and his knowledge of locks, fastenings, and the techniques of escape naturally intersected with the world of professional burglary. His preface signs off with his professional titles, “Handcuff King and Jail Breaker,” signaling that his authority derives not only from his investigations but from his mastery of the very skills that criminals employ. This dual identity—part showman, part investigator—shapes the book’s perspective throughout.
The work also reflects the era’s attitudes toward crime and punishment. Houdini repeatedly emphasizes that dishonesty is a poor policy, that crime does not pay, and that the criminal life ends in wretchedness or prison. He addresses his readers directly, warning them against the temptations of dishonesty and advising them on how to protect their property. The book is thus very much a product of its time, combining moral instruction with practical advice and a generous measure of sensational storytelling.
The author’s travels and connections are evident throughout. He mentions meeting chiefs of police and famous detectives worldwide, and he refers to specific locations—London, Berlin, Paris, Boston, New York, Chicago—as settings for the criminal schemes he describes. He also references contemporary figures and events, such as the case of Cassie Chadwick, who was convicted in March 1905, and his own performance at the Cleveland county jail during Thanksgiving 1905. These details anchor the book in a specific historical moment, when the criminal underworld was both a real social problem and a source of popular entertainment.
Structure of the Book
The book is organized into twenty chapters, each devoted to a particular aspect of criminal activity. The table of contents lists the following chapters: Income of a Criminal; Professional Burglary; Difficulties of Burglary; Burglars’ Superstitions; Thieves and Their Tricks; The Aristocrat of Thievery; Pickpockets at Work; Beggars and Dead Beats; Begging Letter Swindles; Tricks of Bunco Men; The Game of Wits; Fake! Fake! Fake!; Bogus Treasures; Famous Swindles; The Fair Criminal; The “Brace” Game; Cheating Uncle Sam; Humbugs; About Myself; and Conclusion.
The opening chapters establish the book’s central argument: that crime does not pay. Houdini begins by examining the income of criminals, refuting the notion that they are well paid and showing instead that most criminals earn precarious and miserable livings. He then moves into detailed examinations of specific criminal trades, beginning with professional burglary. These chapters are rich in practical detail, describing how burglars select their targets, plan their operations, and execute their crimes. Houdini includes stories of individual burglars, such as the London burglar who walked backward through the snow to avoid leaving incriminating tracks, and the gang that smuggled stolen silver out of a duke’s estate concealed inside a slaughtered sheep.
The middle chapters broaden the scope to include other types of criminals. Thieves and their tricks are catalogued, from overcoat thieves and church thieves to wedding-gift lifters and van thieves. Pickpockets receive their own chapter, with descriptions of their methods, their organization into “mobs,” and their various disguises and deceptions. Beggars and dead beats are exposed as organized frauds, with Houdini asserting that ninety percent of street beggars are impostors belonging to gangs controlled by chiefs. Begging letter writers are similarly unmasked, with accounts of elaborate schemes to extract money from the gullible through the mail.
The later chapters turn to confidence games and swindles. Bunco men and their games are described in detail, including the “real Simon Pure Bunco Game” and the “sofa game,” a combination of confidence trick and burglary. The chapter on fakes exposes fraudulent healers, mediums, and patent medicine vendors. Bogus treasures, including forged paintings and the famous gold brick swindle, are examined. The “brace” game and other swindles are covered, as is the criminal activity of women, with extended portraits of Sophie Lyons and Cassie Chadwick. The book concludes with chapters on counterfeiting and smuggling, followed by a discussion of humbugs and hoaxes, and finally a chapter about Houdini himself and a concluding statement.
The structure is thus cumulative, moving from the general to the specific, from the lowliest criminal to the most sophisticated swindler, and from crimes against individuals to crimes against the state. Each chapter builds on the previous ones, creating a comprehensive portrait of the criminal underworld as Houdini understood it.
Detailed Section-by-Section Summary
The Book’s Purpose and the Criminal’s Income
The book opens with the author’s preface, establishing his central mission. Houdini describes a hidden “under world” of cheat and crime, whose inhabitants measure success solely by their ability to evade the law. He argues that respectable society knows almost nothing of these criminals’ real lives, their thoughts, or the “terrible fascination” that binds them to a life of wrongdoing. The purpose of his work is twofold: first, to safeguard the public by exposing the tricks and adroit methods of these criminals, operating on the principle that “knowledge is safety”; and second, to provide entertaining and instructive reading. He asserts that he has gathered this material personally over many years, having met with chiefs of police and famous detectives worldwide, and signs the preface with his famous moniker, “Handcuff King and Jail Breaker.” The table of contents lists twenty chapters, or “shots,” covering topics from professional burglary and pickpocketing to begging swindles, famous frauds, and a concluding chapter about Houdini himself.
In his first chapter, Houdini immediately challenges the popular notion that criminals are hardened, uneducated villains. He paints a picture of a well-dressed burglar reading the morning paper, his family unaware of his “business,” and a benevolent-looking gentleman on a train who secretly heads a gang of bank burglars. He insists that some of the brightest brains belong to professional criminals, as modern civilization’s police machinery demands considerable intelligence for a life of crime to succeed. He then poses a direct question to police chiefs and detectives: does crime pay? He notes that the general impression that criminals are well paid is a fiction perpetuated by novels and sensational press reports. He points out that colossal frauds are rarely the work of professionals; they are perpetrated by men of previous good character in positions of trust who stole and fell. The humble criminals—sneak thieves, porch thieves, and shoplifters—gain miserably small sums and often end in the workhouse. He recounts a thief who told a New York detective he couldn’t earn five dollars a week honestly because regular work was impossible; it was laziness, not avarice, that kept such men dishonest.
Houdini provides a comparative analysis of criminal earnings. Pickpockets, he claims, earn the most among petty thieves, averaging eight to twelve dollars a day. Counterfeiters, or “snide pitchers,” are poorly paid and face heavy risks. Highwaymen and hold-up men make big hauls but have short careers, as reflected in the thieves’ proverb: “A six months’ run and the hook is done.” Burglars and confidence men make occasional big coups but have precarious incomes. He notes that a burglar making three thousand dollars a year would be considered successful, while the “fence,” or receiver of stolen goods, often profits more. He cites examples of fences who made fortunes, only to die in prison or by their own hand. Houdini concludes that dishonesty may pay at first, but once a man is known to the police, the price of his crimes grows ever dearer. He recommends a book by Chief Inspector Wm. B. Watts of Boston, “Our Rival the Rascal!” as the greatest work on the subject, and ends the chapter with a firm declaration: it does not pay to lead a dishonest life.
The Art of Professional Burglary
Houdini describes the professional burglar as a resourceful, daring, and well-trained individual, whose success depends on careful planning. He notes that the same ability applied honestly would bring wealth, but the fascination of crime holds him, and successful coups bring a pride akin to honorable attainments. The planning process is meticulous: selecting a retired house with valuables, studying approaches and escape routes, and learning the occupants’ habits. The burglar may ingratiate himself with kitchen servants or use a confederate. The night chosen for the job avoids a full moon, and a watch-dog is chloroformed. Working in pairs, one stands outside giving whistle warnings. Ordinary locks and fastenings offer little obstacle, and the burglar enters quietly with a hooded dark lantern and rubber-soled shoes, avoiding creaking doors and loose boards. Disguise is of paramount importance. Houdini recounts a reformed criminal who told Inspector Byrnes that he wore specially made wigs, false whiskers, and reversible coats and trousers, allowing him to change his appearance completely in under two minutes, much like a stage quick-change artist.
To illustrate the burglar’s craft, Houdini tells the story of a London burglar who served a long prison sentence. This man was hired for a jewelry shop on the Seven Sisters Road on a January night through a “put up job,” a broker who supplies burglars with locations for a large commission. The shop had iron shutters, and valuable goods were supposedly left in the window overnight. Approaching via a narrow rear entry, he walked backward because the ground was snow-covered, as forward tracks would attract the next policeman. He entered through a rear window, but a locked door blocked the passage. When he forced it with a jimmy, the door fell with a tremendous crash. He hid behind a shed, but nothing happened. Re-entering, he climbed to the top of the stairs and forced a heavy trap-door. In the sitting-room, he found only a few watches. The shop door had a mortise lock requiring the box to be cut out, and the show-window was empty. He found a small iron safe, dragged it to the basement, and opened it with tools—but it was empty. The text notes that almost all English safes are key-locked, not combination as in America.
Resolved not to get “cold feet,” the burglar returned and listened outside the old couple’s bedroom. They slept soundly, and a revolver was on the chair. He pocketed it, noting that revolvers in houses are dangerous “especially to casual night visitors.” He gathered loose money and two gold watches, then found the jewelry rods from the shop window arranged along the wall. He selected as many as his pockets would hold and left, walking backward again through the snow. He nearly collided with the milkman, who remarked on his odd walking. The burglar replied it was “an agreeable change” but he couldn’t practice it in daytime due to foolish people. The milkman then shouted “Police!” and “Stop thief!” The burglar escaped, and two hours later a Hoxton “fence” received the valuables, concealed under the floor of his bedroom.
Houdini then explains how burglars carry their booty, noting that police suspect people carrying bundles in the small hours. He suggests an experiment: carry a bag of bricks between two and three in the morning, and one will be pounced upon by a policeman. An ex-convict told a detective a story of breaking into the country palace of one of England’s wealthiest dukes. The silver-plate filled two bags, and they dragged the sacks into a thicket when the alarm was raised. At two in the morning, policemen stood every thirty yards around the grounds, guarding every road and path. They were safe inside the ring, but daylight would expose them. Yet no trace was found of plunder or thieves; by evening it was melted and sold to a “fence” in the city. The police were baffled. The only people who passed the cordon were countrymen from the home farm driving a cart to market containing a slaughtered sheep. The ex-convict notes that if police had turned the sheep over, they’d have found silver instead of organs, and under the straw, the rest of the duke’s property.
The chapter also covers the “second-story man,” a lower class of burglar who avoids breaking and entering, instead using porches, overhanging boughs, and water-conductors to enter through unguarded windows. Many work only in daytime, prepared with plausible excuses, such as appearing as an honest workman repairing plumbing. Houdini adds a note on the ordinary criminal’s hand, which has a peculiarly rough shape: a plump and short thumb, uneven and heavy fingers, and a small finger turned inward, with bluntness being the chief characteristic.
Difficulties and Superstitions of the Trade
Houdini explains that a man living by his wits faces difficulties unknown to citizens, such as entering houses, forcing locks, and circumventing alarms. A burglar finds least danger at a pistol’s muzzle, as an excited citizen is as apt to shoot himself or his family as a burglar. Burglar-alarms present no great difficulty to an expert who has located them beforehand; his first care is to cut wires. A pet dog may cause more trouble than pistols, so an expert burglar cultivates the dog’s acquaintance in advance, often via the kitchen girl, and uses chloroform. Window-bars set four to six inches apart are little use, as a miniature screw-jack forces them apart for a thin man. He advises that shutting up a house for holidays announces it is unoccupied; the wiser plan is to make it look occupied, notify police, and warn trustworthy neighbors. Regarding valuables, he advises keeping them at one’s banker’s; if in the house, the best place is the least likely one. He gives two instances of wasted labor: a burglar who went through a saddler’s premises carefully, only to find the cash was kept in an old saddle, and a wealthy merchant’s house ransacked for cash and securities, which were concealed in a dummy book in the library bookcase. Keeping valuables in the bedroom is unwise, as a determined burglar will visit the bedroom, and the occupant may not wake up next morning.
The text then turns to burglars’ superstitions, learned from an ex-convict befriended in Omaha and other sources. A black cat is a certain forerunner of disaster to burglars; householders finding their black cats poisoned may take it as a warning that robbery has been decided upon, since criminals destroy these “dumb enemies” before midnight calls. Dogs are feared little, however savage, because burglars carry pieces of ivory as a “certain cure for dog-bites.” The cries of an infant warn the marauder of misfortune. A burglar will not stay in a house with a stopped clock, broken mirror, or unframed oil painting—all infallible omens of disaster. A chief terror is a newly-painted house. Houdini recounts that years ago in a northern town, burglars broke into a large domicile but removed nothing, then robbed the next house that evening. Captured scaling the garden wall, one confessed they spent eight weeks preparing to enter the first house, found it freshly painted, transferred attention to the adjoining building, and were captured.
A criminal studies weather like a farmer. He will not commit crime on a new moon night, nor if the orb has a halo or mist. Plundering during an eclipse means his days outside prison are numbered. It is bad luck to be followed by a dog, and any plan is abandoned as it means capture or failure. Entering a house with crape on the door courts disaster, as does kicking a piece of coal in the road. Pickpockets avoid robbing cross-eyed or club-footed persons. Robbing a blind man brings misfortune, but a blind woman can be victimized with impunity. A stolen purse containing a battered coin or lock of hair is thrown away intact, or the thief will be imprisoned before day’s end. Talismans are freely carried. Olden-day burglars robbed by candlelight made of human fat; the superstition has nearly died out due to difficulty procuring material, though still prevalent in Scotland and Ireland. When Burke and Hare murdered for the medical profession in Scotland in 1828, they allegedly supplied human fat to burglars; doctors gave Hare bottles thinking it a rheumatism cure, and Hare sold it to housebreakers. Old nails, broken horseshoes, and curiously shaped pebbles have been found on captured criminals who begged everything else be taken rather than their talisman. Charles Peace, perhaps the greatest burglar who ever lived, attributed his success to the pawn-ticket of a violin pawned as a boy, which he always carried.
Safe-Cracking and Thieves’ Tricks
Safe-cracking is a special division of burglary, requiring an experienced and skilful man. Houdini notes that James Sargent of Sargent & Greenleaf, Rochester, N.Y., invented the time-lock, which rendered old tools worthless. Cracksmen have kept pace, using modern scientific methods such as hammering to break clock-work, using large carbons tapping trolley-car current to burn circles around locks, or using a compound invented by Goldschmidt, called “Thermit”—a mixture of fine aluminum filings and iron oxide, ignited to give extraordinary heat of 3000°C, burning a hole through most safes. In Berlin, a safe manufacturer built an invulnerable safe called the “Anti-Thermit” Geldschrank. Burglary is now an art, and successful safe-openers spend weeks studying conditions. Skeleton keys only pick simple wards, and jimmies are iron bars sharpened at one end; sectional jimmies are most efficient. Safe burglars purchase old safes to practice on, working almost entirely on the lock—removing the dial with a special jimmy, drilling a hole five-eighths of an inch above the spindle, and using a knitting needle or fine wire to “pick up” the combination.
Houdini then describes various types of thieves and their tricks. A thief appropriates property without consent, distinguished from a burglar by not breaking in at night. Types range from sneak thief and shoplifter to pickpocket and swindler. Overcoat thieves ring doorbells with plausible pretexts, stealing garments from hat-racks while servants are away. Venetian blind thieves claim to repair blinds, impersonating plumbers or gas inspectors. Church thieves steal Bibles, hassocks, cushions, and collection-box money, using sticky fingers to swap pennies for dollars on collection plates. Wedding thieves work wealthy weddings, imitating expensive jewelry in paste while originals go to the bank. The wedding-gift lifter, disguised as a tradesman, gains servants’ confidence, has duplicates made with imitation paste diamonds, and exchanges counterfeit for genuine. Van thieves use hand carts covered with sacking concealing a confederate who reaches into vans with loose tarpaulins, seizing packages; wet days are preferred. Trick satchel thieves use a specially-made portmanteau whose bottom closes on pressure, with powerful springs grasping a smaller portmanteau beneath, carrying it away enveloped from sight.
A diamond theft scheme involves a well-dressed lady asking to see unmounted diamonds; a second lady enters; a gem vanishes; both are searched and released. The trick is that one woman concealed the diamond in chewing gum stuck under the counter’s front edge, and a third gang member later removes it. Two humorous anecdotes conclude this section, including a mother refusing to name a son “Alias.”
The Railway Jewel Robbery and the Chicago Bank Fraud
Houdini presents a detailed account of a railway jewel robbery. A lady’s trunk was placed in a locked luggage van during a train journey to Scotland, opened only by the guard at stops. No one entered or left the van, yet the jewel case vanished. Houdini explains the method: Two railway thieves learned of the lady’s journey and booked tickets only to Leeds. Their luggage included a massive wooden trunk with small holes concealed by iron hoops. Inside the trunk was a fourteen-year-old boy. Once the train was moving, the boy emerged, used skeleton keys and pick-locks to open the lady’s trunks, stole the jewel case, hid it in his own box, and returned to his hiding place. At Leeds, the men retrieved their luggage, took it to a temperance hotel in Briggate, released the boy, and examined the jewels. The contents were sent to London and then to the continent before Scotland Yard learned of the robbery.
He then recounts a Chicago bank check fraud. A swindler “planted” a check on a Chicago bank, netting $30,000. A long-time depositor presented a London draft for £6,000 to the bank president, asking to deposit it and check against it. He presented a check for $30,000 for the president to O.K., which was initialed. The depositor then deposited the draft. The next day he presented the initialed check and was paid. Later, he presented the same check again and was paid a second time. He was never seen again. Two brief anecdotes follow: an embezzler’s wife calls him a thief; he says he stole for her sake, but she retorts that he gave it all back. A cynic says a famous man “did the public.”
Pickpockets and Their Methods
Houdini describes pickpockets as well-dressed, intelligent, and cautious, with women being the most patient and dangerous. A common trick involves carrying a shawl or overcoat over the left arm and sitting to the victim’s right. A sharp knife may cut pockets. Some wear overcoats with large pockets removed, throwing the coat over a woman’s dress to abstract her purse. Pickpockets work alone, in pairs, or in a “mob” led by an experienced leader. The mob creates a scuffle to distract crowds while others steal. This gang method has worked in Boston subway stations, New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia. The “false-arm game” or “third mit” uses a false arm in a cape overcoat to deceive detectives. The “horse-dodge” involves knocking a victim’s hat over his eyes, grabbing valuables, and darting under a horse. A trick in London outskirts involves two men betting a shopkeeper that a stove-pipe hat holds more than four quarts of molasses; when the hat is filled, one slaps it over the shopkeeper’s head and robs the till.
Beggars, Dead Beats, and Begging-Letter Writers
Houdini asserts that ninety percent of street beggars are frauds. Beggars belong to organized gangs controlled by a chief. Territory is divided, and takings are turned over to a leader who acts as treasurer, sometimes depositing funds in a bank. Leaders are faithful for fear of being blacklisted by the “United Order of American Beggars” or “Sons of Rest.” Chief Watts tells of “Kid” Johnson, an orphan trained by “Frisco’s Slim,” a Boston beggar leader who “doctored” his arm with chemicals to fake a burn. Kid Johnson’s arm was put in a plaster cast, and he became a successful beggar, but was treated like a slave, rescued by police, and later ran away.
Houdini tells the story of the Magic Cap. A German organist from Orenburg visiting St. Petersburg bought a cap. He found purses in his pockets on three successive days. He consulted the chief of police, who traced the cap to a hatter. The hatter had made fifteen caps from English cloth for a man, plus one extra from leftover cloth—the one sold to the German. A detective accompanied the German and saw men furtively transferring items to his pockets. About a dozen pickpockets were arrested; they all wore identical caps and used the German as an unwitting receiver of stolen goods.
Swindlers print begging letters on bogus society letterhead, posing as secretaries to solicit subscriptions, which are often sent without inquiry. Houdini describes wealthy beggars, noting that a beggar in New York died with eleven bank-books and thousands of dollars. Beggars often own real estate and stocks. He describes Mr. Cecil Brown Smith, a suburban husband who went to the city daily. In the city, he was a crippled match-seller with a paralyzed arm and leg, begging from stockbrokers. Disguised detectives followed him and witnessed his transformation back to a healthy man at the end of his workday.
The Match-Peddler’s Masquerade
The detective’s narrative continued with the careful observation of a lame match-peddler who dragged himself through the city streets. The man’s first stop was a tobacconist’s shop, where he converted his silver and copper coins into paper bills, leaving his cigar-box and matches there until the following day. He then boarded a streetcar to a cheap lodging-house, but upon his arrival, a remarkable transformation occurred—his lameness vanished entirely, and he bounded up the steps two at a time. The trail eventually led to a smart little villa, where the supposed beggar lived comfortably with his wife and child.
One afternoon, as the match-peddler shuffled along painfully with his cigar-box, Detective Number One confronted him directly, declaring, “You’re an impostor.” The beggar demanded proof, and the officer promptly arrested him for begging. Because the prisoner claimed he could not walk and objected to the publicity of an ambulance, he was transported to the police station in a cab. In the dock, he appeared as an intelligent, fairly well-dressed man of twenty-nine. A remarkable feature of the case was that Smith’s wife was genuinely surprised to hear of her husband’s “goings on,” knowing nothing of his occupation in the city.
The passage then turned to the subject of begging cards covered with doggerel “poetry,” offering an example titled “The Cripple’s Appeal,” which pleaded for pity and aid. The text asserted that nine times out of ten—indeed, ninety-nine times out of one hundred—every coin given to a street beggar goes to a fraud of the worst description. A short anecdote followed: a visitor at a gaol offered flowers to a man behind bars, who told her she had made a mistake—the man who killed his wife and children was in the next cell; he was there for stealing a cow. Another convict, advised to take a motto to live up to, replied he would select “We are here to-day and gone to-morrow.”
The Begging Letter Writers
The next section covered begging letter writers, who plied their trade in almost every city, ranging from ignorant crooks to masters of the craft with organized offices and staffs of stenographers and clerks. Several cases had been unearthed where fakes received hundreds of letters daily, mostly containing money. Post-office authorities had been pursuing these rogues, and organized plundering via the mails was almost certain to end. A complaint to post-office inspectors could bring a “fraud order” against a party, restraining them from using the mails. However, this recourse was frequently used by unprincipled persons out of spite against legitimate businesses.
A daring scheme in New York City was described: a man fitted up elegant offices, traveled to South Dakota, and incorporated a stock company with a capitalization of five million dollars, called a commercial and mining company. He instructed a Press Clipping Bureau to save obituary notices of males who died in states other than New York. Using these, he wrote to dead men, notifying them that the last payment was due on stock they had bought at fifty cents a share, congratulating them on its rising value. He enclosed a beautifully engrossed stock certificate. Surviving relatives, thinking the departed had bought the stock quietly, sent checks ranging from five hundred to one hundred dollars. The swindler was soon detected and brought to trial.
Other schemes included a man advertising ten yards of silk for twenty-five cents, who mailed ten yards of sewing silk to each dupe; another offered a complete sewing machine for one dollar, sending a common sewing needle; and a fellow advertised a sure way to get rid of chinch bugs for one dollar, sending a card instructing the victim to catch the bug, hold it by the leg, lay its head on an anvil, and hit it with a hammer. Many advertisements were inserted merely to collect names and addresses of credulous people, which were then sold or rented to fake mail-order houses.
Chain letter schemes, now illegal, included one offering a trip to the Paris Exposition with two hundred dollars as a prize. Each entrant paid thirty cents, sent two letters to friends requesting them to send their names to the promoter, and the operation was repeated indefinitely. The ostensible object was to secure names for employment at the exposition.
The Bunco Game
The term “bunco” originated from an old English game of chance with a checkered cloth covered with numbers and stars, covered by a hood called a “bunco.” The man who knew the game was the “bunco man” or banker. The real Simon Pure Bunco Game, practiced by Tom O’Brien, the King of Bunco Men, involved luring a wealthy farmer to a hotel room. A confederate played another player. A pack of forty-eight cards in eight sets, numbered one to six, was dealt eight cards to each player. The dealer told them they had drawn the grand conditional advertising prize, entitling them to $10,000 apiece on condition they prove themselves worth $50,000 and put up $10,000 each. After the money was put up, four cards were dealt each; the total of each hand was twenty-eight, which was the “State number,” the total blank, meaning they lost all. The confederate pretended to be broken up, got the farmer out, then slipped away to join his partner.
A variation involved a well-dressed man driving to a farmer’s home, inquiring about a farm for sale. After inspecting the property and closing a bargain, a confederate appeared, and a card game was proposed. The farmer was induced to take a hand, and after winning a large sum, the loser asked for proof of ability to pay. The farmer drew his money from the bank. The first swindler asked the farmer to take charge of all the money in a tin box. The farmer put his own money in the box, but when he got home, he found it filled with heavy folded papers; a rapid shift had been made.
The Sofa Game
A man named Mr. Dabdoub was swindled; he pursued the culprit, but the stranger escaped with “sevenieague boots,” implying even Nick Carter could not have caught him. Dabdoub went to the police, who wept with him and addressed him as if he were a public meeting. A swindle “better than a gold brick” was then described: a young man with a violin entered a market, made a purchase, and claimed to be short of cash. He offered the fiddle as security while he fetched money. A well-dressed accomplice then entered, examined the fiddle, and declared it a Stradivarius, offering $300 for it. The shopkeeper refused to sell without the owner’s consent. The second stranger left $5 for the refusal. The first rogue returned, was told of the offer, and agreed to sell if the tradesman gave him $150 down. The victim complied, and neither swindler returned; the fiddle was worth about $1.50. The text noted that city dwellers on a farm are “greener” than farmers in the city buying gold bricks.
The “Sofa Game” was an English crook’s conception, part confidence game and part burglary. It required a gang, including a small, slender boy or young woman who might plead for mercy if discovered. The gang selected a wealthy citizen’s residence, ideally with inside information about silver and jewels. They observed the family’s habits and struck when few people were home. A furniture wagon arrived, and a well-dressed man asked if it was the residence of Mr. John Rahner. Told he was not home, the man claimed to be chairman of a committee of the Dearborn Lodge, naming an order to which the householder belonged, and presented a sofa as a gift. The sofa was brought inside. Hours later, the stranger returned, apologizing for a blunder—the sofa was meant for Brother John Rahner of South Main Street, not North Main Street. The sofa was taken away. The house was later found robbed. The sofa had a hollow compartment concealing a girl, who emerged, ransacked the place, and hid with the plunder inside the sofa, which was then carried away. This game had been worked with variations in England and on the continent.
A short dialogue followed: Rapp says, “I look upon you, sir, as a rascal!” Parker replies, “You are privileged to look upon me in any character you desire to assume, sir.” A joke concluded the section: a lisping maid asked a veteran if he ever went to a military ball. He replied he once had a military ball come to him, and it took his arm off.
Fake! Fake! Fake!
The text then discussed those near the criminal boundary, such as “divine” or mental healers and old-style patent medicine frauds selling colored water. The author did not decry all proprietary medicines but advised taking remedies only on a physician’s advice. Fake “doctors” advertised in American newspapers, assuming titles and degrees. Some were actual physicians who failed in regular practice. Their game was to give initial relief, then prolong the case to extract all the patient’s money. They called themselves “specialists,” but their specialty was exhorting money. The author advised avoiding them.
The case of Francis Truth, alias Will Bemis, a self-styled Divine Healer in Boston, was described. He claimed mesmeric power to cure by laying on of hands. He limited patients, then used “absent treatment,” telling patients to think of him at a certain hour. He branched into a mail-order feature, receiving hundreds of letters daily and earning thousands of dollars a week. He lived in style until post-office authorities and police ended his career. A Miss Ethel L—— of Maiden, Mass., visited a Boston medium who knew about money she was carrying. He put her in a trance, told her to go home and keep her fingers crossed for two days. She later realized she had been robbed of $1,000.
Boston was noted as a favorite city for astrologers, mediums, and clairvoyants; Chicago also had its share. A man named Ridgley, calling himself the East Indian Mystery, victimized wealthy New Yorkers. He was seventy, small, with a bushy black beard, flat nose, and claimed to be from Hindoostan. He denied negro blood. He called himself a physiognomist, not a fortune-teller, reading from the apex of the nose to the top of the forehead. His patrons included prominent New York names. A recent society marriage was said to follow a woman’s consultation with him; she took his treatment and was married in three months, after which he received many presents, including a tenement.
The author was once almost a believer in Spiritualism but had never seen a materialization he could not explain. He noted that in Germany, spirit mediums were jailed for obtaining money under false pretences. In England, Maskenlyne of Maskenlyne & Cook worked to keep fraudulent mediums out. The author planned a book on spiritualistic methods. The Davenport Brothers were driven out of England but made enough money to last their lives.
Bogus Treasures
The author advised never believing an antique or old master painting is genuine until proven. New-made millionaires were often victims. M. Felix Duquesnel of Paris said certain galleries of ancient masters contained few pictures more than ten years old. Forged pictures were included in private collection sales, and a written pedigree was often part of the deception.
The Gold Brick Swindle
The passage described the “gold brick” confidence scheme, where a swindler offered to sell an ingot of pure gold at a sacrifice price. The typical method involved meeting a likely victim and secretly telling the story of a poor Mexican miner who possessed a lump of pure gold valued at $5,000, which he would sell for $500. The victim, or “pigeon,” met the miner, saw the glittering brick, handled it, and even tested it with acid before paying. The brick was crafted with ingenuity—sometimes wedges of genuine gold were inserted into cheap metal, and the operator sawed or filed into this wedge to produce gold for the victim to test. The author advised that all such stories should be questioned and rejected at once.
The Green-Goods Swindle
This elaborate game began with adroit correspondence in which the writer claimed to possess old, discarded steel plates used in printing United States money, allowing him to produce actual greenbacks that would pass anywhere. A sample letter was quoted: the writer claimed to have “a good thing” and offered to make the recipient “independently rich,” asserting the goods were not legal counterfeits since they were printed from genuine plates. The letter explained the need for a personal interview, offered to guarantee travel expenses, and quoted prices: $300 bought $3,000; $1,000 bought $30,000. The victim was given a password and number for signing telegrams. At the secret meeting, a package of real money was shown for inspection, the purchase money was paid, and a package was deftly exchanged for one containing worthless paper. There was no redress possible. The author noted that only once, to his knowledge, had actual original plates been stolen from the government—when Langdon W. Moore secured the return of the 5-20 bond plate in the early 1880s, as described in Chapter XV of Moore’s autobiography. Even stolen plates would produce counterfeit bills in the eyes of the law.
The Fair Criminal
The author stated that every country and age had produced celebrated women criminals, from Lucrezia Borgia of the fifteenth century to Cassie Chadwick of the present day. Police officials agreed there were vastly fewer women criminals than men. When women did commit crimes, they often went to great lengths of iniquity. In the United States, only one-tenth of accused persons were women; in France, Statistician Tarde declared one-sixth. Women criminals ended their careers in wretchedness. Mothers of wayward girls were often to blame; a good home was the best protection.
Sophie Lyons was presented as a typical born woman criminal. Her grandfather was a noted burglar in England; her parents, who came to America before her birth, both had criminal records. She was taught to steal as soon as she could walk and was arrested for shoplifting at twelve. At sixteen she married Maury Harris, a pickpocket, but he was sentenced to two years in State prison before the honeymoon ended. She later married “Ned” Lyons, a noted burglar, and became one of the most expert female pickpockets. She was beautiful with dark eyes, auburn hair, and a fascinating manner. At county fairs she met wealthy men and stole their watches or banknotes. If caught, she was a consummate actress who could counterfeit every emotion. About two years after their marriage, Lyons pulled off a big coup, bought a villa on Long Island, and though a professional burglar, tried to keep his wife from stealing. She continued picking pockets for love of it. Both were sentenced to Sing Sing Prison, from which they made a sensational escape to Paris. In France, under the name of Madame d’Varney, she continued her career. She was supposed to be at large in America, with one son in State prison and two daughters being educated in Germany, kept ignorant of their mother’s character.
Cassie Chadwick, the “Duchess of Diamonds,” was of more recent date. About fifty years old, without great beauty or charm, she had wonderful persuasive powers. She victimized Andrew Carnegie and made Banker Ira Reynolds believe she was Carnegie’s illegitimate child. She deposited securities alleged to be worth $5,000,000 and a note for half a million dollars bearing Carnegie’s signature. A signed paper from Reynolds attesting he held $5,000,000 in trust became her stock in trade. She fleeced bankers and businessmen of one million dollars in money and $150,000 in jewels over four years. In March 1905, she was convicted and was serving a ten-year sentence in the Ohio State penitentiary. Thanksgiving 1905, during the author’s engagement at Keith’s Theatre, he gave a performance at the Cleveland county jail; Mrs. Chadwick was to be entertained in her cell, but fifteen minutes before he was to show conjuring tricks, she changed her mood, argued with the jailer, and refused to allow anyone near her cell.
Shoplifting was the most common crime among women; many stole for wantonness. Kleptomania was a polite word for this offense, sometimes involving mental disorder. The badger game was still used to fleece men. A confidence woman befriended a man of means, preferably married, invited him to her apartment, and carried on flirtation until a fictitious “husband” arrived, threatening violence or police. The victim paid a large sum to avoid scandal—a form of blackmail. Grace Mordaunt cleared thousands in New York by advertising: “Young widow, financially embarrassed wishes loan of $100 on a diamond ring worth twice as much.” She produced a genuine ring, had it priced at a jeweler’s, and used it as bait for her scheme.
Counterfeiting and Smuggling
The passage identified the three great crimes against any government, aside from treason: counterfeiting money, evading custom laws, and smuggling. Counterfeiting was frequently attempted, with a new dangerous counterfeit of a United States bill appearing almost monthly; authorities sent notice to banks and published warnings in newspapers. Years ago, when engraving was in its infancy, paper money was cruder and easier for counterfeiters to copy. Now, the delicate lathe and tool work and special fibre paper made it much more difficult. The government printing works were so cautious that stealing an original plate was almost impossible. The paper was made under strict government supervision, and only foremost artists were employed in designing, lettering, and engraving bills, making an exact counterfeit harder to produce each year.
Counterfeits of silver and gold coins were of two kinds: moulded or stamped with a die. Die-made counterfeits were harder to detect if the metal had the right weight, ring, and color. Electroplating was used with some success; one dangerous counterfeit was a compound of antimony and lead heavily electroplated with silver. The gold ten-dollar piece of 1858 and gold five-dollar pieces of 1847, 1848, 1862, and 1869 had been counterfeited with a platinum coin heavily gold plated. The most dangerous counterfeits were those of actual gold and silver mixed with another metal; the gold in counterfeit five-dollar pieces dated 1881 and 1882 was assayed at $4.43.
Genuine coins were tampered with via “sweating,” “plugging,” and “filling.” A hundred gold ten-dollar pieces in an acid bath would lose $35 or $40 worth of gold and remain unchanged in appearance; the gold was extracted from the bath and sold. Coins were also robbed by drilling a hole, filling it with alloy, and covering it with a light gold wash. Filling was sawing a coin through the edge, scraping out the gold, and putting the parts together filled with baser metal. Thomas Ballard was the first counterfeiter to reproduce government fibre paper, in 1870. He and his gang were captured the next year but escaped jail and continued issuing counterfeits. In 1873 his counterfeit $500 treasury note alarmed banks and officials. He was finally captured in his lair in Buffalo just as he was about to produce a counterfeit $5 bill of a Canadian bank, which he boasted was to corrupt all Canada.
John Peter McCartney successfully removed all ink from genuine $1 bills to secure government paper for printing counterfeit bills of higher denomination. He made a fortune but was brought to book. A counterfeiter named “One-eyed Thompson” was the first to transform bills of small denomination to larger by cutting and pasting; he also cut up $10 or $100 bills into strips and made eleven counterfeit bills of the same denomination. A German, Charles Ulrich, produced the most dangerous Bank of England notes ever made. Langdon W. Moore, an expert bank robber, forger, and counterfeiter who had reformed, wrote an autobiography about raising notes and circulating counterfeits. When another gang declared war on him, he sent a spy into their camp, learned where they would put out their next batch of “queer,” and outwitted them.
Postage stamp counterfeits were common, mostly to impose on collectors of rare stamps. A certain issue of Hawaiian stamps was very valuable, with only half a dozen or so in existence, selling for thousands of dollars. One daring counterfeiter “planted” about twenty forgeries of this rare stamp into collections of wealthy philatelists and realized thousands of dollars. Another gang introduced a beautifully-engraved stamp in Paris by posing as the “King of Sodang” and suite—Sodang being an imaginary island. A stamp dealer was the principal victim and paid the “king” a large sum for stamps of this fictitious kingdom.
A method of secret writing defied detection: putting a fake letter inside an envelope, writing the real message in microscopic characters in the upper right-hand corner, and pasting the stamp over it. The correspondent soaks off the stamp. Convicts often used this trick to send secret messages. Cancelled postage stamps were frequently washed and sold or used again. The author had a receipt from a Russian convict that removed every trace of the cancellation mark, but the secret was too dangerous for publication. On the continent, a clever dodge covered the stamp with a transparent paste before mailing; the correspondent washed off the stamp and the cancellation marks with water. The penalty for this crime was so severe and the reward so small that even hardened criminals avoided it.
A clever gang of smugglers got trunks through the custom-house free by having counterfeit “inspected” labels made. Passing among trunks where inspectors worked, they slyly poked the labels on their own trunks; each official supposed another had inspected them. The passage concluded that dishonesty, whether to fellowmen or government, was the worst of all policies in the end.
Humbug and Hoaxes
The final section discussed humbug or hoaxes. P. T. Barnum declared, “The American people want to be humbugged,” and the author believed he was right. The author found so much that was marvellous accomplished by natural means that he had no need to humbug the public; in his case, truth was stranger than fiction. A firm in New York manufactured fakes like double-bodied babies, mermaids, and fake mummies. Dr. L. D.
Main Arguments
The central argument of the book is stated plainly and repeatedly: it does not pay to lead a dishonest life. Houdini opens his examination of criminal income by asking police chiefs and detectives whether crime pays, and he concludes emphatically that it does not. He supports this claim with a survey of criminal earnings, showing that most criminals gain miserably small sums for their efforts. Sneak thieves, porch thieves, and shoplifters end in the workhouse. Pickpockets, though among the better-paid petty thieves, earn modest amounts that hardly justify the risks. Counterfeiters are poorly paid and face heavy penalties. Highwaymen and hold-up men make big hauls but have short careers, as the thieves’ proverb puts it: “A six months’ run and the hook is done.” Even burglars and confidence men, who occasionally make large coups, face precarious incomes and ever-increasing sentences once they become known to the police.
A related argument is that the popular image of the criminal as a glamorous, well-paid figure is a fiction perpetuated by novels and sensational journalism. Houdini insists that the reality is quite different. The truly colossal frauds are not the work of professional criminals at all but are perpetrated by men of previous good character in positions of trust who stole and fell. The professional criminal, by contrast, lives a life of constant risk and uncertainty, and his successes are rare and fleeting.
Houdini also argues that criminals are not the hardened, uneducated villains of popular imagination. Some of the brightest brains belong to professional criminals, he asserts, and modern civilization’s police machinery requires considerable intelligence for criminal success. The professional burglar is resourceful, daring, well-trained, and secretive, and the same ability applied honestly would bring wealth. Yet the fascination of crime holds him, and successful coups bring a pride akin to honorable attainments. This observation serves both to explain the persistence of criminal behavior and to underscore the tragedy of wasted talent.
Another argument concerns the vulnerability of the public. Houdini repeatedly shows how easily people are deceived, whether by beggars, swindlers, or confidence men. He notes that city dwellers on a farm are “greener” than farmers in the city buying gold bricks, and he catalogs the many schemes by which the credulous are separated from their money. His purpose, he states, is to safeguard the public by exposing these tricks, so that knowledge may serve as safety.
Finally, Houdini argues that dishonesty, whether against fellowmen or government, is the worst of all policies in the end. This conclusion applies not only to individual criminals but also to those who defraud the state through counterfeiting or smuggling. The book closes on this moral note, reinforcing the message that the criminal life is a dead end.
Key Concepts
The book introduces and develops several specific concepts that recur throughout its chapters. One of the most prominent is the idea of the “under world” of cheat and crime, a hidden society whose highest good is the successful evasion of laws. Houdini describes this underworld as largely unknown to respectable people, who have little idea of criminals’ real lives, thoughts, feelings, or the “terrible fascination” that binds them to crime. This concept of a parallel society with its own values and codes runs through the entire work.
Another key concept is the “fence,” the receiver of stolen goods who profits more than the thieves themselves. Houdini notes that one fence made $5,000 yearly for several years before shooting himself, while another amassed a fortune but died in prison. The fence is presented as a crucial figure in the criminal economy, the conduit through which stolen property is converted into cash.
The book also introduces the reader to the specialized vocabulary of the criminal world. Terms such as “snide pitchers” and “shovers of the queer” for counterfeiters, “put up job” for a broker who supplies burglars with locations, and “pigeon” for a swindle victim are woven into the narrative. This terminology serves to authenticate Houdini’s insider knowledge and to give the reader a sense of entering a foreign world.
Several specific criminal techniques are described in detail. The “false-arm game” or “third mit” uses a false arm in a cape overcoat to deceive detectives. The “horse-dodge” involves knocking a victim’s hat over his eyes, grabbing valuables, and darting under a horse. The “badger game” is a form of blackmail in which a confidence woman lures a man into a compromising situation and a fictitious “husband” demands payment to avoid scandal. The “sofa game” combines confidence trick and burglary, using a hollow sofa to conceal an accomplice who ransacks a house from within.
The book also describes the tools and technologies of the criminal trade. Burglars use jimmies, skeleton keys, dark lanterns, and chloroform for watch-dogs. Safe-crackers employ modern scientific methods, including the use of large carbons tapping trolley-car current to burn circles around locks, and a compound called “Thermit,” invented by Goldschmidt, which generates extraordinary heat of 3000°C and can burn a hole through most safes. The time-lock, invented by James Sargent, is presented as a major obstacle that cracksmen have had to adapt to.
Superstitions form another key concept. Burglars believe that a black cat is a forerunner of disaster, that a newly-painted house is an omen of misfortune, and that a stopped clock, broken mirror, or unframed oil painting in a house will bring bad luck. Pickpockets avoid robbing cross-eyed or club-footed persons, and robbing a blind man brings misfortune. Talismans are freely carried, from old nails and broken horseshoes to the pawn-ticket that the great burglar Charles Peace always carried, attributing his success to it.
Themes
A recurring theme is the contrast between appearance and reality. Throughout the book, Houdini shows how criminals present false fronts to the world: the well-dressed burglar reading the Sun, the benevolent-looking gentleman on the train who heads a gang of bank burglars, the crippled match-seller who is actually a healthy suburban husband, the “divine healer” who is a fraud, the “East Indian Mystery” who is a New York charlatan. The book is essentially a catalog of deceptions, and its underlying message is that things are not always what they seem. This theme resonates with Houdini’s own profession as a magician, a master of illusion who nonetheless insists that in his case, truth is stranger than fiction.
Another theme is the fascination of crime. Houdini repeatedly notes that criminals are often held by a “terrible fascination” that binds them to crime, even when they could succeed honestly. The same ability that makes a successful burglar would bring wealth if applied honestly, yet the criminal chooses the risky and precarious path. This fascination is presented as a kind of addiction, a psychological compulsion that overrides rational self-interest. Sophie Lyons, the born woman criminal, continues picking pockets “for love of it” even after her husband tries to keep her from stealing. The theme suggests that crime is not merely a rational choice but a way of life with its own powerful attractions.
The theme of wasted potential is closely related. Houdini notes that some of the brightest brains belong to professional criminals and that the same ability applied honestly would bring wealth. The book is filled with examples of cleverness and ingenuity devoted to criminal ends: the railway thieves who conceal a boy in a trunk to rob a lady’s luggage, the swindler who writes to dead men about stock they supposedly purchased, the counterfeiter who removes ink from genuine bills to obtain government paper. This theme carries a moral weight, suggesting that such talents are tragically misdirected.
The vulnerability of the public is another persistent theme. Houdini shows again and again how easily people are deceived, whether by beggars, swindlers, or confidence men. He notes that ninety-nine times out of one hundred, every coin given to a street beggar goes to a fraud of the worst description. He describes the elaborate schemes by which the credulous are separated from their money, from the gold brick swindle to the green-goods game. The theme serves Houdini’s stated purpose of safeguarding the public, but it also carries a darker implication about human gullibility and the ease with which trust can be exploited.
Finally, the book explores the theme of crime as a gendered phenomenon. Houdini notes that police officials agree there are vastly fewer women criminals than men, but that when women do commit crimes, they often go to great lengths of iniquity. The chapter on “The Fair Criminal” presents extended portraits of Sophie Lyons and Cassie Chadwick, both of whom used their femininity as a tool of deception. The theme touches on contemporary attitudes toward women, including the notion of kleptomania as a “polite word” for shoplifting, sometimes involving mental disorder. Mothers of wayward girls are blamed for their daughters’ criminal careers, and a good home is presented as the best protection.
The Author’s Conclusions
Houdini’s conclusions are stated with characteristic directness and moral clarity. The central conclusion, repeated throughout the book, is that dishonesty does not pay. He ends his chapter on the income of criminals with the emphatic statement: “IT DOES NOT PAY TO LEAD A DISHONEST LIFE,” followed by a simple “DON’T.” This conclusion is supported by the evidence he has assembled: the precarious incomes of most criminals, the short careers of those who make big hauls, the ever-increasing sentences that await those known to the police, and the wretchedness that ends most criminal careers.
A related conclusion concerns the nature of criminal success. Houdini distinguishes between the professional criminal, who lives by his wits and faces constant risk, and the occasional fraudster, who is often a man of previous good character in a position of trust. The latter, he suggests, are responsible for the truly colossal frauds, while the former eke out precarious livings. This distinction serves to demystify the criminal underworld and to challenge the romanticized portrayals found in novels and the press.
Houdini also concludes that the public’s best defense is knowledge. His stated purpose is to safeguard the public by exposing criminals’ tricks and adroit methods, and he repeatedly offers practical advice: keep valuables at one’s banker’s, be suspicious of stories about gold bricks, never believe an antique or old master painting is genuine until proven, take remedies only on a physician’s advice. The book is thus a practical manual of self-protection as much as an exposé.
On the subject of spiritualism and the supernatural, Houdini offers a qualified conclusion. He states that he was once almost a believer in Spiritualism but has never seen a materialization he cannot explain. He notes that in Germany, spirit mediums are jailed for obtaining money under false pretences, and he plans a book on spiritualistic methods. This conclusion reflects his broader skepticism toward frauds and humbugs, a theme that runs through the book.
The book’s final conclusion is that dishonesty, whether to fellowmen or government, is the worst of all policies in the end. This moral judgment applies equally to the street beggar, the confidence man, the counterfeiter, and the smuggler. Houdini’s closing chapters on counterfeiting and smuggling reinforce this message, showing that even the most ingenious schemes ultimately end in capture and punishment. The book thus concludes on a note of moral certainty, affirming the value of honesty and the futility of crime.
Significance
The significance of The Right Way to Do Wrong lies in its unique perspective and its historical value. As a work by one of the most famous performers of the early twentieth century, it offers a rare glimpse into the criminal underworld as seen through the eyes of a man who was himself a master of deception and escape. Houdini’s dual identity as entertainer and investigator gives the book an authority that few other exposés of the period could match. His knowledge of locks, fastenings, and escape techniques, honed through his career as the “Handcuff King and Jail Breaker,” lends credibility to his descriptions of burglary and safe-cracking.
The book is also significant as a document of its time, capturing the methods, vocabulary, and social attitudes of the criminal world in the early 1900s. It preserves details that might otherwise have been lost: the superstitions of burglars, the tricks of pickpockets, the schemes of confidence men, the techniques of counterfeiters. For the modern reader, it offers a window into a world that has since changed in many ways, though the fundamental principles of deception and fraud remain recognizable.
Houdini’s moral stance gives the book a didactic purpose that transcends mere entertainment. He is not simply cataloging crimes but warning the public against them, and his repeated insistence that crime does not pay carries a genuine moral weight. This combination of entertainment and instruction was part of his stated purpose, and it reflects the reformist spirit of the Progressive Era, with its confidence in the power of exposure and education to improve society.
The book also holds significance for its treatment of gender and crime. The chapter on “The Fair Criminal” offers portraits of women criminals that challenge simple stereotypes, presenting figures like Sophie Lyons and Cassie Chadwick as complex individuals driven by a variety of motives. While the book reflects the gender attitudes of its time, it also gives serious attention to women’s criminal careers, a topic often neglected in the literature of the period.
Finally, the book is significant for what it reveals about Houdini himself. His fascination with crime, his respect for the cleverness of criminals, his moral certainty about the futility of dishonesty, and his skepticism toward frauds and humbugs all illuminate the character of a man who made his living by deceiving audiences while insisting on his own honesty. The book is thus not only an exposé of criminals but also a self-portrait of its author, revealing the values and preoccupations that shaped his remarkable career.
