ARTHUR DRAKE

Arthur was the leader of a gang of thugs that terrorized Londoners and shop owners in that area. In his part of town no one was safe, not even the Bobbies. (British policeman)

Most folks would stay out of his way and give him and his gang a wide berth. Even the tough members of his gang were afraid of Art for often times he acted crazy. Arthur had a reputation that was dark and gloomy. He would just as soon lay waste to anyone in his way as cook a meal and eat it.

This English kid left people cringing in his wake. He enjoyed watching ladies of the upper crust flinch when he would cuss up a storm, which he did so well. His mouth often spewed out words that would turn the air blue around him and he would use detestable language in front of anyone if he thought he could use it to his advantage.

The police tried diligently to keep him and his gang away from the better side of town with very little success. When they gave him orders to leave he acted like a wild man and fought like a lion. Most of the time people who messed with him got hurt and sometimes hospitalized.

Funny though he seldom ended up in jail and laughed and made fun of those that brought him in to the lock-up. When they tried to dress him down they'd see a big ole sneer like smile break out on his face and those pure blue eyes of his he kept pretty much guarded. Art seemed to aggravate most everyone he came in contact with.

This young lad had no family and lived on the streets with other kids his own age. He had no one to guide him along life's pathway and he did as he darn well pleased. Doing those things that seemed right to keep up his image as a rough tough thug. In the beginning of his life this English kid didn't have the slightest inkling of what his last name was so he took the name of Sir Frances Drake for his own.

Arthur Drake gave most folks the willies and they shied away from him. His clothes were repulsive filthy dirty rags. English had no real place to call home and slept outside on the ground many a night. The best home he had was a small hole in the ground with a dirt floor and a dirt and tin roof. A narrow tunnel was the doorway into his little underground palace.

Down deep inside Arthur had a hankering for a better life that no one else knew about. He'd heard of the Americas and hoped some day to go there. But that was a long ways off. He was saving some money to make the trip, but it was coming pretty darn slow.

Stealing was the game that kept food in his stomach. With a stroke of luck a man from the Upper East Side became his fence and took most of what he could pilfer. This rotten scoundrel of a man raised Art's standard of living in those troubled times of his life. On certain occasions he'd give Art a list of what he needed and Arthur would get what he could. This kid had light fingers and could pick a man's pockets with the best of them. He had learned the trade from his uncle who was long dead. This English kid had perfected his trade far beyond what he had been taught.

Breaking and entering is where he got most of the things his fence needed. Four or five of his gang members would stake out a few houses in an area. When no one was home they would move on it and strip it of all they could sell and make a sovereign or two. (One-pound sterling) they had a two wheeled cart that they moved their loot with.

A knife was his weapon of choice. That kid was mighty good with the blade. He had some natural skill and quick hand speed. The boy was chain lighting and that was the key to his success. Arthur was a regular ripsnorter in the London area. When big trouble came that he couldn't handle foot speed would get him free.

At the age of seventeen Arthur Drake was learning how to play draw and stud poker in the card room. In these card games most of his money was snookered away from him, until he caught on to their treachery. What he learned from that experience is when men sit in a card game they must see a patsy sitting there or know it's them. When light finally came to him at the card table with these scumbags, Art moved into action. One man ended up in the hospital with knife wounds. Another fellow had long knife wounds on face and chest, one of those cheats had his coat ruined and the last scalawag scurried for cover and got clean away.

Shortly after that episode things began to unravel in Art's life. His fence got caught with some hot merchandise and he fingered Arthur Drake to the police as his pick-up man. Claiming he didn't know it was stolen. He told the police the man they wanted was from the lower west side and produced his name. That is all the information the London Bobbies needed, they all knew him quite well and proceed to do their duty.

Another stroke of luck came his way for Arthur heard that the Bobbies were a looking for him from a member of his gang and knew this time he was buckin' a stacked deck. The only chance he had was to clear out of town and do it quickly. For the first time in Art's life his luck had run out on him. He was in one heck of a mess and needed to skip out of there in a hurry.

He was getting his few belongings together and saying goodbye when he saw three Bobbies coming to roust him out and take him in. Like a flash that boy cut across the street, shot up the alley and lit a shuck on out of there. He had all his good duds in a carpetbag, hid out, and always ready to go at a moment's notice. The boy picked them up on his way to the waterfront.

Arthur for some time now had planned what he would do if this time ever came. He'd been formulating a plan in the back of his mind to leave this place in the dust. Today he knew it was time to put feet to his plan and leave England. Over the course of time he'd saved nigh on to a hundred pounds in cash and was thinking of America and a fresh new start there. He would steal about anything he wanted from folks along the road to the coast, that way he could pick up some more cash to tide him over once he got there. Arthur made his way toward a harbor along the coast and booked a one-way passage on a small ship that was headed for New York City in America. The ship was small but it was leaving right away.

He'd gotten free of London and the Bobbies and he felt kind of smug with himself in his narrow escape. Down deep inside ole English had a gut feeling that he was on his way to a much better life with a whole lot better prospect in New York City and the United States.

The little ship he booked passage on was the Downey Cruiser a small cargo ship (a tub) and Arthur was the only passenger on board other than the captain and his motley crew. After Art came on board the ship and just before the crew set sail the captain of this small tub was seen talking to a Bobby at the foot of the gangplank and some money changed hands.

Arthur looked like he was ready to make a jump into the scum covered water of the harbor below when the Bobby turned and walked away with never a backwards glance. Right then and there the ship's crew that saw this knew that Mr. Drake was in a whole lot of trouble for the captain was looking for a couple more mates to go along on this trip.

Everyone on board the Downey Cruiser knew that many hands made for light work. Art was a new hand and didn't even know it yet. The ship was a good day and a half out to sea when that boy's life of luxury came to an abrupt end. The captain and three men descended on his little cabin in the middle of the night and took everything of value they could find and left him...