CHAPTER TEN

ADVENTURES THE WORLD OVER

MANY a time have my bills of advertisement read "Murder in --", referring to my great illusion "A Woman Sawn in Half". When I invented that illusion I never expected that a real murderer would walk on to the stage and nearly ruin my performance.

At the time when this happened I was not producing the act as I do now. I was using the first version, where the girl is placed in a box with only her head, hands, and feet showing, and I cut through the middle of the box with a crosssaw. Now, of course, I use a great circular saw, and the whole of the girl is visible throughout the performance.

To heighten the effect I used to ask two members of the audience to step up on to the stage. One was asked to hold the girl's feet and the other to hold her hands.

We had been playing for one week at the Olympia Theatre, in Cleveland, and on the Saturday night, our last performance, two men came on to the stage to watch the "sawing-in-two of the woman".

One of these men looked a rough and unpleasant fellow; he gave me the impression as he stepped on the stage that he was looking for trouble. No sooner had he taken hold of the girl's feet than he began pulling them in a brutal manner. The holes were only big enough to take her ankles, and naturally it hurt her very much when he brought her calves into contact with the wood.

At first I did not notice this, being busy preparing the saw, but it hurt so much that the girl complained to me of the agony she was suffering. I told the man not to do that; it was hurting the girl.

He took no notice of this warning, and I had to interrupt my preparations three times in order to speak to him. The delay annoyed me, for I knew that the audience would become restive and my trick would be spoiled.

Turning round to address the audience, I said, "This man has only paid for one ticket, yet he is spoiling the enjoyment of hundreds. I have asked him to stop annoying the girl. I hope that now I have mentioned it this sort of thing will stop."

The only effect this had upon the ruffian was to cause him to give the girl's legs a terrific tug, so that she screamed aloud. This was too much for me, and I told him in plain terms what I thought of him. This I did in undertones so that the audience could not hear me. He retorted. also sotto voce, using the foulest language he could lay his tongue to. I answered him back as best I could, and then he began to threaten me: "You wait till I get you outside, you dirty--."

At this I turned to the audience, who were anxiously awaiting developments, and said, "I called for gentlemen to come on the stage. It is very evident there has been a mistake." The audience showed themselves very sympathetic to me, and the man stepped off the stage, scowling at me the while. The performance then proceeded smoothly on its way, and I dismissed the incident from my mind.

As it was the last night at that theatre there was a great deal of packing up to be done after the show, which was a revue entitled "Step on It", in which I had a part share. We were in the middle of this work when I was called to the telephone. I found that it was from one of the members of the company. He had left the theatre a few moments before and had found eight men standing in the dark alley-way outside the stage door with revolvers in their hands. He had tried to get back into the theatre, but they had seized him and looked hard into his face. Then one had said, "This isn't Goldin," and they had driven him out of the alley. Apparently they had not thought of the possibility of a warning being sent by telephone.

My informant went on to say that the man whom I ordered off the stage was awaiting trial on a murder charge and was out on 30,000 dollars bail. These men with him were part of his gang of toughs.

I consulted with the house manager and we decided to ring for the police. Within ten minutes three plain-clothes policemen were on the premises. He told them the story, and then the Chief turned to me and said, "Have you got guts and guns

I said I had.

"Then you mustn't be afraid to shoot if it's necessary."

In reply to this I said that I was prepared to do anything I was told.

I used revolvers in my act, and I was ordered to load two of them. We had no shot, because blanks were always used in the act, so the Chief told me to fire into the gangsters' faces so as to blind them. The police had their own guns; mine were for the manager and myself. We had orders not to fire before the Chief after he had fired it was every man for himself.

We carried on with our packing and had it all finished in about half an hour. Then we started for the open air, not without tremblings from the manager and myself. We walked in single file, the Chief in front, then myself, another policeman, then the manager, with the third policeman bringing up the rear.

We emerged from the stage door with our revolvers ready. The alley was very dark and it was with difficulty that we made anything out. To the gangsters, their eyes used to the darkness, we must have looked very formidable. As we came into the alley-way with our guns they immediately took to their heels.

All gangsters are cowards at heart, and will only inflict injury on others if they are quite sure that there is no risk to their own skins.

I was so pleased at the effect our weapons had had that I would personally have abandoned all precautions, but the police would have none of it.

"Well, that's that," I said, with great relief in my voice. "Now for a taxi."

"There'll be no taxi for you tonight, my boy," said the Chief. "How would you know that it was not their car?"

I had not thought of that.

"We're not leaving you until you are steaming safely out of Cleveland."

With that we started out for my hotel. Two policemen walked slowly backwards with their guns at the ready, making sure that we were not attacked from the rear.

We arrived at the hotel about 1 a.m. and that left an hour before my train left for Columbus, Ohio. The Chief 'phoned for the police car and I was taken down to the station, where the special coach which carried all my baggage and assistants was ready and waiting in a siding.

Once safely inside, I thought I should be out of police custody, but I was mistaken. They guarded the station throughout our twenty minutes' wait, and when I showed an inclination to go for a walk down the platform they forced me back. "You don't know where they may be waiting to take a pot shot at you." That was enough for me; I took refuge in the coach, and I was heartily glad to hear the train steaming out of Cleveland.

I never heard what became of the gangster after that. I did gather that he was an Italian pretty high up in the gang world, and judging by the speed with which he gathered his henchmen around him he must have been the leader of the gang.

That was a big fright, but it was not my biggest. That happened in 1933, when I was touring the Continent, appearing in fourteen different countries in three years and giving a full evening's performance everywhere.

As you probably know, there are some countries in Europe where it is an offence to take currency out of the country without declaring it. Austria is one of these countries; Italy is not.

During my tour I carried a great deal of money about with me, both in American and English currency, but I never had any trouble with it because I was always careful to declare it at the Customs. That good habit I maintained until I reached the Italo-Austrian frontier. where I was guilty of a lapse which might easily have proved very expensive for me.

My manager and I drove over the frontier in a car and declared all we had to the officials. When we were comfortably settled in our hotel we decided to return to the Austrian frontier to clear our railway-truckful of baggage. We knew this would take about an hour, and we felt that when it was over we could take things easily before my next engagement, which was in Venice.

At the Italian Customs barrier we were stopped, and the officials said something in Italian to my manager. I do not understand the language, so I did not know that he was asking about currency. About half a mile further on we were stopped at the Austrian Customs barrier, and again I left the conversation to my manager, who spoke several languages fluently. That over, we went ahead with our work, and, as I had expected, we finished it within an hour.

Just as we were preparing to return I remembered that I had forgotten to declare the cash I had on my person when re-entering Austria. I had about £870 in English money, 1000 dollars in bills, several thousand dollars in Cook's cheques, 34,000 Belgian francs, and some odd money in my pocket. I knew the officials were sure to remember that I had passed the barrier only an hour before, and I knew that they would be sure to ask carefully about currency. If the money was found on me it was certain to be confiscated. What was I to do?

I was terribly worried. My manager was there and might have helped me, but I felt that where so large a sum was concerned I could trust no one. I continued to make excuses to postpone the time of departure and give me the opportunity to concoct some plan.

My manager noticed my worried looks and asked me what the trouble was. I told him that I had something on my mind and asked him if he would leave me alone for ten minutes. When he had gone I tried to decide what was the best thing for me to do.

We were in a well-wooded country and I looked around for a hollow tree in which I might hide the cash. I found one easily enough, but every time I tried to put the money in a safe hiding-place people came in sight. I began to imagine that I was being watched.

At length I gave up that idea, and when my manager returned I told him of my predicament and asked for his help in carrying out a new plan.

"Look here," I said, "I am going to show you a trick with two handkerchiefs. When we arrive at the Austrian frontier, ask to see it again. Make a fuss about it. Let them know who I am."

This we did, and it worked splendidly. The officials were much impressed by the trick, and asked me to show them still more. They told me that they remembered me passing earlier in the day, but that they had not known who I was.

In return I told them that I should be playing in their town, and I asked my manager to give them free passes to the theatre, which they accepted gratefully. We also showed them a lithograph which I had with me showing the various wonders which they would see at my performance. I am afraid they never saw them, for I was in Venice.

They were wonderfully impressed by all they had seen and heard and they quite forgot to ask me if I had any money to declare.

How glad I was when we shook hands and called "Auf Wiedersehen" and drove out of Austria with my money safe in my pocket!

I had a strange experience with royalty while I was playing in Paris. The chief actor in it was the late King of Portugal, the unfortunate monarch who was assassinated.

I was playing in the Casino de Paris when Count Graefelt, then well known in Court circles all over the Continent, came up and asked if he might have a few words with me.

"His Majesty the King of Portugal has been very much impressed by your performance, and would very much like to see more of your amazing tricks. Would you care to appear at my house and stage a performance in a more intimate atmosphere than is possible here?"

I told him I should be delighted.

When I arrived I found that a platform had been erected at the end of the room capable of taking almost all my big illusions, and that a very distinguished assembly was waiting to see what I could do.

The big tricks and illusions went off very well, and then I began some sleight-of-hand tricks which I thought would please such an intimate performance. To help me with these I wanted a "dupe" to come up on the stage with me. I asked for a volunteer.

To my astonishment and delight the King himself rose and said that he thought he was the very man for the job.

For these tricks I needed someone whose leg I could pull, and with whom I could indulge in a little back-chat, although I felt that the King was hardly the person for the job.

But whatever qualms I might have had were soon dispelled. I found that the King was a most genial man, absolutely without affectation and quick to see a joke. I carried out the usual business of handing him a pack of cards to shuffle and then producing various aces from up his sleeve and from out of his pockets. No one laughed more than did the King.

As the show went on he entered more and more into the spirit of the thing and made witty and humorous comments on what I was doing. Towards the end we indulged in two minutes of a sort of crosstalk dialogue which amused everyone immensely.

When the King had stepped down from the stage one of Count Graefelt's men came over to me and in a whisper said, "You didn't know that that was the King of Portugal, did you?" He seemed quite surprised when I informed him that I had known all along.

Northem Africa once brought me a little adventure which at first was very unpleasant but which ended up quite happily.

We had been playing in Tripoli before we went to Benghazi, during which time General Balbo, the Governor of North Africa, witnessed the performance. We were especially pleased to hear that the Govemor of Benghazi had bought all the seats in the theatre and that General Balbo was to be his guest of honour and see the show again.

I made a trick specially for this occasion. I had twelve boards and I painted each of these separately, doing them very roughly and obviously without plan. Then I fixed them all into a frame, and there was a fine picture of Mussolini and General Balbo. Then I pulled a string and the picture changed into one of a troop of soldiers.

There was a great round of applause at this, and I was just going on to the next part of the trick, when the curtain fell. I asked my manager what was wrong, and he told me there had been orders for the curtain to be dropped. I was very annoyed, for I could not see why my show should be interrupted when it was going so well. I found that I was not to do anything more, and that the show was to continue without me, showing Balbo's pictures of his flight from Italy to Chicago.

As I stood in a corner thinking all this out General Balbo's secretary came up to me and said that the General wished to see me in his box.

I walked round the back of the theatre and all the people in the boxes applauded me. Evidently it was not unpopularity which had brought my act to so abrupt an end.

When I entered the General's box I sat down at the back for a while. Then General Balbo rose and shook hands with me. "A very wonderful show," he said. "I thank you very much."

America provided me with another great thrill, and this one I am always glad to recall, for I was instrumental in saving many lives.

Just before the War I was playing in Los Angeles, and from there I was to move on to Salt Lake City. I arrived on the station platform to find that there were so many passengers that a relief train was to run five minutes after the train in which I had booked.

We had a terrible journey. For the three days of the trip it did nothing but rain. The heavens opened and sluiced us with water. We could see nothing out of the windows because of the continual cascade of water down the glass.

Suddenly we hit a wash-out. The carriage lurched sickeningly and we were hurled from one side to the other. We travelled for twenty-five yards, then the car left the track, broke away from the train, and turned sideways. Luckily the conductor put the brakes on, otherwise the car would have been completely smashed and all of us inside would have been killed. As it was, no one lost his life, though many were badly injured.

My chief injury was that I missed a three days' engagement, for the bridge just ahead of us was washed away. But my side was pretty badly bruised, and I was paid 500 dollars compensation.

The railway accident on the Los Angeles-Salt Lake City line

As soon as it was possible we all crawled from the wrecked car and looked about us. Women were in hysterics and men were feeling themselves carefully to see if any bones were broken. It was a very wild scene, for the rain was still descending in torrents and it was almost dark.

Apparently no one had a thought for the second train, only five minutes behind. If it also hit the wash-out and ran into our stationary train there was not a chance that they would escape as lightly as we had. I ran to the conductor and shouted, "Stop the second section!"

He thanked me for the great thought, and we ran to get the red warning-lights. The locker where they were kept was jammed. We looked at each other, and we read despair in our faces. The conductor jumped out, seized a fragment of wreckage, and struck as hard as he could at the locker, and to our great relief managed to force it wide enough open to allow us to reach three lamps. We dashed back along the line and just succeeded in lighting them and placing two on the line and waving the third when the second train appeared.

For one terrible moment we thought that our signals would be ignored. The train thundered on, apparently oblivious of the lamp which we were frantically waving. Then we heard the scream of the brakes and the great engine came to rest a few feet away from us and with its front wheels almost on the edge of the wash-out.

People jumped from the train, asking questions and shouting news back to those in the train. As I looked at them I was thankful that I had had that lucky thought, otherwise many of them might have been lying bleeding amongst the splintered wreckage of the carriages.

Thinking of violence and destruction brings to my mind an unusual occurrence in Lowestoft at the beginning of the Great War. It is a small thing to mention here, and yet it stays in my mind with a certain significance.

On the Saturday before I arrived at Lowestoft there had been an air-raid, and I found that the house in which I was to stay had been affected by the bombs. One had dropped in the garden behind the house, and everywhere showed signs of the disturbance it had made. The door of my room would not close properly. The bed had been turned round, although by the time I arrived things had been tidied up again. Outside in the yard the dog had been killed, although his kennel was still intact. The canary's cage was quite all right, but the bird inside was dead.

But the strangest thing of all was in my room. The glass globe which hung from the ceiling was smashed to atoms, and yet the fragile gas-mantle, which might have been dissolved to powder at a touch, was quite intact. And visible on it were the words, "Made in Germany".

To bring these adventures to a close I will visit another continent. This little episode can hardly be called an adventure; it was a kidnapping by friends.

I played for about six months in Australia, and I made a great many good friends. The Australians are a most friendly and hospitable people, and I had invitations showered on me.

One week-end I had two such invitations, one from a man we will call Mr. Brown and one from a Mr. Jones Jones rang up, and I told him I was sorry I could not accept, I was going to Mr. Brown's place for the week-end. "Too bad," he said, "some other time perhaps."

Rather to my surprise, Mr. Jones came into my hotel a few minutes later. "I've got my car with me," he said. "I'd be glad to drive you over to Brown's place. It's quite near mine."

I thanked him and we drove off together. After an hour or so's drive we came to a very fine house, and stopped.

"So this is where Brown lives," I said, "and here is Mrs. Brown coming to welcome us."

"No, Mr. Goldin," said Jones "This is my home, and that is Mrs. Jones You're my prisoner; here you stop till Monday."

And so it was. They allowed me to 'phone Brown to inform him that I had been kidnapped and could not spend the week-end with him. We tried to concoct some plan of escape together, but, although I made several attempts during the course of that week-end, I did not succeed. Those good friends were so glad to have me there that they took very good care that I was never left alone.

I should not be sorry if all adventures were as pleasant as that one.