Sketches of Gotham

A great many years ago, when Tom Byrnes was the able and efficient chief of the detective force of New York, a certain class of women, very much in evidence around the hotels and resorts, were known, from the peculiar manner of their work, as Badger Molls.

There was one in particular who had added a spectacular dance to her many other accomplishments and which helped her not a little in meeting the right kind of people.

To be a Badger Moll a woman had to have nerve, assurance, a fair amount of good looks, be able to read character and keep her wits about her at all times. There were occasions when she was up against it so good and strong that it didn’t seem as if there was one chance in a hundred for her to do her part of the trick, but in ninety times out of a hundred she landed the bundle of the victim.

That is to say, of course, with the aid of her confederate.

The old days of the Moll have gone by, but the new days have come and they are here now. The new representative is of a higher class, of a superior education, is more adept, and, as a rule, gets more money.

It is worthy of note that during the past ten years only two big jobs have fallen through—that is, so far as is known—and these things usually become known when they are brought to the notice of the police.

A handsomely gowned woman, with a bearing that would deceive almost anyone, comes down the line. She looks like my lady from Fifth avenue, but if you will notice her eyes you will see in them the look of a huntress.

She is on the trail of men, and it is a rare thing for her to make a mistake. Mistakes in her business, you know, sometimes spell Sing Sing, as a lady by the name of Moore will tell you if you ever meet her and she should become confidential.

As she passes the hotels you will notice this particular woman hesitates in her stride, she goes into the low gear and she looks questioningly at the men who are standing about.