When I was hard up, and if there was no good confidence game in sight, I didn't mind taking heavy chances in straight grafting; for I lived in a dream, and through opium, was not only lazy, but reckless. On one occasion a Jew fence had put up a plan to get a big touch, and picked me out to do the desperate part of the job. The fence was an expert in jewels and worked for one of the biggest firms that dealt in precious stones. He kept an eye on all such stores, watching for an opening to put his friends the grafters "next." To the place in question he was tipped off by a couple of penny weighters, who claimed it was a snap. He agreed with them, but kept his opinion to himself, and came to see me about it. I and two other grafters watched the place for a week. One day the two clerks went out together for lunch, leaving the proprietor alone in the store. This was the opportunity. I stationed one of my pals at the window outside and the other up the street to watch. If I had much trouble with "the mark" the pal at the window was to come to my assistance. With red pepper (to throw, if necessary, in the sucker's eyes) and a good black jack I was to go into the store and buy a baby's ring for one dollar. While waiting for my change, I was to price a piece of costly jewelry, and while talking about the merits of the diamond, hit my man on the head with the black jack. Then all I had to do was to go behind the counter and take the entire contents of the window--only a minute's work, for all the costly jewels were lying on an embroidered piece of velvet, and I had only to pick up the four corners of the velvet, bundle it into a green bag, and jump into the cab which was waiting for us a block away. Well, I had just about got the proprietor in a position to deal him the blow when the man at the window weakened, and came in and said, "Vix." I thought there was a copper outside, or that one of the clerks was returning, and told the jeweler I would send my wife for the ring. I went out and asked my pal what was the matter. He said he was afraid I would kill the old fellow, and that the come-back would be too strong. My other pal I found a block away. We all went back together to the fence, and then I opened on them, I tell you. I called them petty larceny barnacles, and came near clubbing them, I was so indignant. I have often had occasion to notice that most thieves who will steal a diamond or a "front" weaken when it comes to a large touch, even though there may be no more danger in it than in the smaller enterprises. I gave those two men a wide berth after that, and whenever I met them I sneered; for I could not get over being sore. The "touch" was a beauty, with very little chance of a come-back, for the police don't look among the pickpockets for the men who make this kind of touches, and I and my two companions were known to the coppers as dips.