Secrets of the Secret Service Broadway Boys Swing Across Country in Whirlwind Fashion—Girl Proves Their Undoing By JOHN JAY DALY GPANGWILL ENGELSHER and Larry Leibson, two Broadway boys, were star members of the famous “Cowboy” Tessler gang that operated in New York City. With forty robberies and several mur ders on their record, most of the Tessler gang ran afoul of the police. Landed in Sing Sing. The gang went out of circulation. Engelsher and Leibson evaded arrest. They decided to desert the big town, go west and show up on the Pacific Coast, by the Golden Gate. Engelsher traveled under the alias George Benson. Larry Leibson had two aliases—Laurion S. Cavelli and Larry Benson. The youths decided to quit ordinary crimes to become counter feiters. Where they secured their spurious money—almost perfect reproduction of Federal Reserve Bank S2O notes--the Secret Service may never know; but the two Broadwayites bent on beating their way west let loose a flood of spurious currency that fooled inhabitants of a dozen States and the District of Columbia. They traveled in a high-powered roadster down the Atlantic seaboard to Miami, westward across Louisiana and Texas to San Francisco. En route they visited Atlantic City, stopped off in Philadelphia to view the Liberty Bell, saw the sights in Washing ton, D. C., headquarters of the Secret Service. After a trip to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, where Uncle Sam makes real money, the boys hastened to the races at Miami. “Book ies" bet “good money” against their counterfeit currency. Night clubs, hotels, restaurants, garages and gas stations accepted the phony twenties. Banks let them pass. A young society girl in Miami was attracted by the easy manner of Engel sher. He had verve. She believed her Prince Charming had stepped out of the story book. Later, he forsook her for a girl of the Golden West. Because Leibson possessed a talent for shaping rhymes, chimes and jingles he set himself up as a lyricist and scenario writer when he and his traveling com panion got to Hollywood. Actually, Larry had the screen moguls buying his wares. When he entertained, in return for hospitality, some of the no tables found themselves possessors of unaccountable S2O bills. They began to wonder whence came the counterfeit money. Quietly, the Secret Service was noti fied. Leibson and Engelsher departed for precincts unknown. Nevertheless, when the lyricist got tangled up with the Secret Service the most loyal friends he had were in Hollywood. Some of the biggest men there wrote letters pleading for mercy. Names signed to those notes are known all over America. They neglected, however, to send the boy money—even some of his own. In Los Angeles. Engelsher met up with a singer in a Hollywood night club. With her, he and Leibson started in a roadster toward San Francisco. Hollywood had been milked for all It was worth. The two bad men from Broadway determined to get action in the region once graced by the old “Forty-niners.” In San Francisco the Easterners registered at different hotels. THE ENGELSHER CASE ' ‘v ‘V Suddenly before the Judge appeared the young Miami society girl whom Engelsher had abandoned. Her story convicted him Engelsher, in the role of a bride groom, stopped at the swanky St Fran cis, presided over by a former Balti morean, James H McCabe. Rated as one of the best hotelmen in the busi ness, the astute “Jimmy” McCabe turned over the bridal suite to what seemed like a big butter and egg man from the Atlantic Coast. The bride groom registered from Durham, N C. Leibson, as a bachelor, was content with more modest quarters. He went to the ultra-respectable William Taylor. Comfortably situated, the boyr were ready to “turn on the works”; have a good time on spurious money. “Tex” Strange, Secret Service agent who broke the case, described the par ticular bill passed by these two men as “a honey.” Only Government experts could tell it from the real article. Con sequently. merchants on Market Street let go thousands of dollars in expensive merchandise, turned over to the coun terfeiters—until one day a clerk in a leather goods store grew suspicious of Engelsher. Because this clerk afterward became the victim of old-fashioned New York gangster methods, his car riddled with bullets, Secret Service men are loath to disclose his identity. They refer to him as Jack Wilson. On Upper Market Street Wilson first encountered “Zangy,” as the boys call Engelsher. “Zangy” purchased a lady’s handbag. As Wilson recalled the transaction, the man was hard to sell. He wanted the best in the house. He got it. Paid for the purchase with spurious currency. Promised to bring his wife next day and buy a trunk. Wilson, the clerk, put the bill in a special compartment of the cash regis ter. While his customer examined other articles in the store the clerk studied the phony money. He decided it was counterfeit “Zangy” left the store. Wilson followed. On the way. "Zangy” met up with Larry Leibson, who had been “working the other side of she street.” The two New Yorkers went into a women’s hosiery and glove store and purchased enough gifts to outfit a Zeigfeld chorus. Traffic Sergeant Rausch supervised activities at the corner of Fifth and Market Streets as Wilson ran up and said: “Sarge, I believe I’ve discovered a pair of counterfeiters." “You do?” the sergeant said. “If that’s so, w’e’ll have to call the Secret Service. Where are your counter feiters?" s o,^l ' T hSBBMIk hif dtmm T -r« t«Bhpfap /,<** H|||l B 11 1 I , _ivJo« 1 wmsßmPyS JSjoff HpJp .fKwv j 1 * wKßSSßiffßsr *? # ’c E oi r f w H|/X'