Safe Cracking Dwindles-But Feminine Forgetfulness Keeps Locksmith Busy
Fair Drivers Will Lock
Keys Inside Sedans And
So His Business Booms
SAFE cracking, with police approval of course,
has been a profitable occupation for many years
for W. A. Robblee, Tacoma, Wash., locksmith. But
today It is rapidly dwindling in imjiortance along
side another phase of the locksmith's business
one In which the feminine influence is making
itself felt. In fact, since women have commenced
to drive closed cars, safe cracking has become just
a sideline for Robblee.
Feminine drivers must be more absent-minded
than those of the masculine persuasion, Robblee
believes. Anyway, drivers of the fair sex leave
their keys inside the car or at home so frequently
that 40 per cent of a locksmith's business nowa
days is getting into locked cars!
Robblee has been cracking safes for a couple
of decades, and in all that time no policeman has
attempted to put him behind the bars. He believes
he knows how to open practically every safe. Also,
he opens safe-deposit boxes and front doors when
absent-minded householders forget and leeve keys
inside.
II OW do you open a safe, or any kind of a lock,
for that matter?
Well, that's a trade secret known only to a
select group of men, the locksmiths. And, just like
Daisy, the locksmith never tells. He doesn't even
W, A. Robbies, Tacoma, Waih., locksmith and safe expert, aaya that safe oracklng haa become juet a aldellne with
him since women began driving closed cars. He spends a good portion of his working hours opening the doors of
coupes and sedans for feminine motorists who have forgotten their keys or left them inside the cars.
tell his helpers. They have to learn the business
by keeping their eyes open.
Th ?re are still a few members of the profession
win don't like to be watched while they work. But
th :y are pretty old-fashioned, Robblee believes.
Anyway, he doesn't mind spectators. Sometimes,
when he gets a call for assistance from a motor
ist who has locked himself out of his car, a hun
dred or more spectators will be watching by the
time he has the job finished.
Robblee started to learn the locksmithing trade
when he was a boy of 13 in Newton, a suburb of
Boston. He wasn't told anything by his teacher,
a professional locksmith, but he had sharp eyes
and a quick mind, so it didn't take him long to
acquire the finer points. Then he went into busi
ness fpr himself in Tacoma.
During his years of experience opening safes,
Robblee has been called upon to open a number
of strong boxes filled with nitroglycerin by less
ethical members of the profession who had been
Craftsman Still Opens
Nitro - G lycerin - Filled
Safes For Police, Too
frightened away by police before completing the
Job.
OPENING a safe in which there is mtro-glycerin
is no task for the chicken-hearted. Most safe
crackers (those that work without police approval) ,
open a safe by filling up the cracks around the '
door with soap, then making a soap cup above
the top edge of the door in which is poured the
thick nitro-glyoerin. They then hang a detonator
over the knob on the outside. The concussion that
follows explodes the nltro-glycerin inside and blows
off the door.
When Robblee is called to treat such a safe after
the safe crackers have been frightened away, he
follows a similar technique. First he pours a neu
tralizer in through the door and over the explosive
which has leaked out .on the floor. After he is
sure that the safe has been washed out thoroughly,
he opens the door.
Robblee is proud of the fact that he has never
opened a safe nor a house for the wrong person.
He insists on being certain he is working for the
right party before he takes the job. He is particu
larly wary of night calls, and says he has no inten
tion of going to a dark office or plant and having
someone stick a gun in his ribs and tell him to
go to work.
When one knows how to open safes, one can't
be too careful, he believes. Your services might
at times come in too handy for someone else!
It's Fun Being Crazy1 Says Famous Reno Preacher
t , i
Brawstsr Adams
By BREWSTER ADAMS
For 26 Years Reno's Baptist Preacher
WE SAT by a prospect hole down in Southern
Nevada, the old-timer and myself prospec
tor and preacher. The reader will smile and say,
"There s a good combi
nation, a couple of God's
fools who are always
seeking treasure in
strange places; follow
ers of dreams, who be
lieve that unlikely
places and unlovely
hearts are worth pros
pecting. Crazy folks."
Few people in this
world realize the joy of
being crazy. Most of the
fun I have had was in
being a fool. If wisdom
makes a happy man, I
have never met him.
"Old Badger" that was the name they gave him,
for he let the badgers do his mining, assaying
the dirt they mucked out and brought to the sur
face was queer. All prospectors and preachers
are, That Is why we get a lot of satisfaction find
ing values where the wise and prudent pass them
by-
It is strange how you can only find real conver
sation where there is solitude and silence, such as
you find out on the desert.
The old-timer never hurries his speech. He has
been too long with the silences of the eternal hills.
He Is unlike us, for he thinks a lot and Bpeaks a
little. But when ho speaks it is from long thoughts,
gathered as he worked over tho hills and sat by
sagebrush fires alone. His philosophy is deep
deeper than ours, for ho has gone deep into his
heart. When you leave him, you know you hnve
met a better ninn thun you are. He knows real
values, for he has dug deep to dig thorn out.
OLD BADGER'S find was undoubtedly a rich
one the camp nt Gilbert followed it. It was
located on a little hill overlooking a vast sea of
sage and sand a blow-up from the deep treasury
of the earth, carrying values almost to the grass
roots. He had swept off the overburden, leaving a
beautiful exposure of almost picture gold. Pros
pectors know how to dress their windows.
Before he could talk of his new-found wealth,
hospitality must be served. That's where the wise
men of the world think he is crazy. "Money should
come first." But to him friends came first. He
wiped out the frying pan with a bunch of sage
and we ate his bacon and beans, seeming com-
Newest Menace to Game
Captures Wildfowl With
Rice, Auto Exhaust Gas
Criminal Invades Sanctuary With Ingenious
Method for Killing Hungry Birds
HERE'S the latest, most unique "duck-soup"
recipe - cooked up by an ingenious criminal
who is now the object of a city-wide search by
San Francisco police.
To one automobile (any make) add one package
of uncooked store rice (any brand). Spread the
rice lightly but evenly beneath the exhaust pipe
of the automobile and leave the car engine run
ning. The result is roast duck for dinner!
The epicurean offender has been steadily de-
IT HAD been a calm night, with a light snow fall
ing. In the early morning tho people of South
Devonshire found hundreds of strange prints in
the snow such footprints as had never been seen
before.
The mark" apparently were made by a hoof two
and a holf Inches across. Perhaps the foot of a
young colt except for this weird fact: the beast
mui.' have been two-leggedor had only one leg.
Tho prints ran in single file, one directly in front
of the other.
Stranger still, they went across roof tops,
through gardens protected by high walls in places
where no known animal with hoofs could go. The
marks were invariably 8 inches apart, and they
appeared in an area covering five different Knglish
towns.
Hunters .and hounds followed the tracks to a
forest. Here the dogs stopped they howled,
hacked nwav, and refused to go into the trees. The
men. dismayed, went home again and the beast
which left tho prints was never discovered.
Similnr puzzling prints have been seen in Scot
land and in Poland always after know has fallen.
How do you account for these curious prints?
How were they made by what queer animal?
PACE TWO B V
straying the wildfowl population of Stow Lake, in
the heart of San Francisco's famed Golden Gate
Park, by his novel method of theft.
He has also caused a large number of that city's
pollcejiien to spend much of their time hiding be
hind bushes and trees in a fruitless effort to sur
prise him.
So far they have not succeeded, although park
department employees declare the criminal prob
ably works his wiles just after sunrise. His tech
nique is to park his car close to the edge of the
lake, which is a thronged water sanctuary for
every type of waterfowl With the engine still run
ning, lie then lays a nice, thick, inviting trail of
rice from the very edge of the water clear up to
the back of his car.
Beneath the open exhaust pipe he piles a par
ticularly inviting heap of rice. The pile is high
enough to reach almost to the pipe's outlet. Hun
ger does the rest.
One by one the ducks spy the intriguing trail
of rice. One by one they peck their way up from
the water to the car, And finally one by one
they fall insensible, overcome by the carbon mo
noxide fumes from the exhaust pipe.
So successful has the criminal's policy proved
that game wardens, wild-life conservation authori
ties and xilice throughout the entire Pacific states
area are becoming alarmed lest the San Francisco
evildoer's deft trick be imitated in other important
centers of waterfowl life.
pletely to forget the 'Wealth at his elbow.
"It looks good," I offered, endeavoring to open
the conversation.
"You just can't tell," he replied. "It might pinch
out."
It was not that he was gloomy about it, but you
could see by the look in his eyes that he was think
ing back over hopes that had come and had van
ished. NOTICING my apparent anxiety, he turned with
a sly smile and ventured, "Don't worry pard
ner, there's enough enough to sell a mine any
way." He is canny this old man of the desert
and willing to share the risks as well as the re
turns. '
"It's pretty," I started the conversation again.
"Sure, it's pretty-prettier than it will ever be
when men give their souls and women barter them
selves for it. It's clean, too; clean as when God
made it. A lot cleaner than it will be when it gets
out there." And he waved his hand toward the
civilization I had left.
"I think sometimes that I would like to cover
it up and let it lie untouched and untainted. I think
of the kiddies it might feed, of homes it would
build, of happiness it could bring, and then I think
of other greed for it and the mad struggle of men
to possess it. Sometimes I can see blood upon it
stains of human strife upon my gold, and I wish
I could put the dirt back on it. But I guess I am
no different than the rest: I want the money," he
added.
"What were your feelings when you found it?"
I asked him, for I had often wondered what was
the sensation of finding wealth so suddenly.
"Well, you see, it was like this. I grubbed around
this hole a badger had made, cleaned it out and
sunk a short hole and then I found this piece of
float. It surely looked rich too rich. I thought it
was too rich, too good to be true. There must be
something wrong. Maybe it was the lucky piece
we old-timers always carry in our pockets. You
never see one of us without it, you know. But I
looked in my coat and it was there and this was
here. Then I thought I must be dreaming it. You
know a prospector dreams a lot about finding some
thing good. I burned my fingers with a match to
see if it hurt and decided it was real and that I
was awake.
"Then I began to worry. Honest, Reverend, the
sweat poured out on me. I climbed the ladder and
looked off over the trail, certain that someone
would come and steal it. I piled dirt over my dis
covery, took the ladder away and hid it. I went
and examined my stakes to see that they were in
order. I imagined a thousand ways I might have
it taken from me. Well, I was so worked up and
so nervous that I knocked off for the day. That
night I never slept a wink, the first, night in months,
for you know we old-timers make a business of
sleeping!"
WEALTH and worry. I knew what he meant,
for I had seen it so often in civilization
so-called. Men who gain and who lose so much
with the gaining. The cares of this world destroy
so much of peace and tranquility.
"Well, I suppose you will sell it and go to the
coast for a good time," I offered. "No," he replied,
apparently quite ready for me, as they always
seem to be. "You see. there was a Swede I knew
who made a rich strike and planned to go to the
const. He got in such a hurry that he lit a short
fuse and the rock blew off the tip of his nose. It
is a wonderful climate and the Swede put the
piece back and tied a bandana around it. It healed
perfectly, but in his hurry he put it on wrong side
up. That was ail right in this dry country, but
MYSTERY SHIPS
The Kobenhavn
Modern And Sound,
Yet She Disappeared
ONE of the greatest sea mysteries since the war
was the disappearance of the five-masted
Danish barque Kobenhavn, which vanished like the
legendary Flying Dutchman.
In December, 1928, she sailed from Montevideo,
bound for Melbourne to take Australian wheat to
Europe. She was sighted by a steamer two days
from the River Plata and never seen again. Al
though she carried wireless equipment, no mes
sages of distress were sent out. Was the storm
(or whatever disaster overtook her) too sudden?
It seems incredible.
Ships searched vigilantly for her. No wreckage,
no lifeboats or evidence of her fate was found.
She went down supposedly carrying 60 appren
tices and a crew of expert seamen sailormen who
knew their business, and boys from the best Dan
ish families. Not one survived.
The Kobenhavn was more than an ordinary sail
ing vessel. Built in 1921 at Leith, Scotland, she was
6000 tons deadweight, fitted with a Diesel engine
for mild winds and calm days one of the best
equipped sailing ships afloat. Her log had recorded
as much as 305 miles for a day's run.
A few weeks later, January 21, 1929, a mission
ary on Tristan de Cunha Island reported a wrecked
sailing ship. It looked like a ghost ship, driving
in through the mist, and was five-masted. Painted
like the Kobenhavn a white band around the hull
she was apparently unmanned. The vessel was
three miles out when first observed. It drifted in
past the reefs, through water too rough for the
missionary's boat. He last saw her within a quarter
of a mile from shore, within the dangerous reefs.
She began to sink. Buff-colored boxes washed
ashore, and a flat-bottomed boat.
Were the crew all dead? Had the ship been de
serted far out at sea? There is no certainty that
the wandering vessel was the Kobenhavn. Lands
men seldom are accurate about ships and the sea.
Seven years have passed since her disappear
ance, and the puzzle is as great as ever. The polar
regions may give up their secrets after manv
years, as the Ice melts but the sea is not so kind.
when he went to Los Angeles it rained and drowned
him."
I SAW it was time for me to go, so I said goodbve
and added, "I hope to see you in the Better Land.
You know the Good Book savs that "the streets of
that city are paved with gold.' "
"So I have read," he answered, with a wink of
his keen eye. "And if they let me in I hope to knock
off a few good specimens for myself.
"Goodbye, Reverend."
CoCTntht. ly.