ard it rapidly run up to sixty dollars and knocked down at that
price. The cash was handed to the clerk, and another bill made out; ten
per cent., deducted, commission on sales. "Usual terms, Sir," observed
the clerk, handing over the notes just received for the watch. And the
divine, very thankful to get off for half a dollar, hurried off as fast
as he could.

I need not say that his fifty-four dollars was all counterfeit money.
When he went next morning, after endeavoring in vain to part with his
new funds, to find the place where he had been humbugged, it was close
shut, and he could hardly identify even the doorway. He went to the
police, and the shrewd captain told him that it was a difficult
business; but sent an officer with him to look up the rascals. Officer
found one; demanded redress; clergyman did the same. Rascal asked
clergyman's name; got it; told him he could prosecute if he liked.
Clergyman looked at officer; officer, with indifference, observed:

"Means to stick your name in the papers."

Clergyman said he would take further advice; did take it; thought he
wouldn't be shown up as a "greeny" in the police reports; borrowed money
enough to get home with, and if he has a gold watch now--which I really
hope he has--got it either for its real value, or as a "testimonial."

There, that (with many variations) is the whole story of Peter Funk.
These "mock auctioneers," sometimes, as in the case I have mentioned,
take advantage of the respectability of their victims, sometimes of
their haste to leave the city on business. When they could not possibly
avoid it, they disgorged their prey. No instance is known to me of any
legal penalty being inflicted on them by a magistrate; but they were
always, until 1862, treated by police, by magistrate, and by mayor, just
as thieves would be who should always be let off on returning their
stealings; so that they could not lose by thieving, and might gain.

These rascally mock-auctioneers, thus protected by the authorities, used
to fleece the public out of not less than sixty thousand dollars a year.
One of them cleared twelve thousand dollars during the year 1861 alone.
And this totally shameless and brazen-faced humbug flourished in New
York for twenty-five years!

About the first day of June, 1862, the Peter Funks had eleven dens, or
traps, in operation in New York; five in Broadway below Fulton street,
and the others in Park row, and Courtlandt, Greenwich, and Chath