The Tailor, the Raffle Ticket, and the Entire Afternoon Police Force

Then the afternoon police patrol marched into headquarters last evening and broke ranks. It was evident from the remarks one made to another that they were all fellow-sufferers from the same cause. One of the tallest members of the force was heard to say that he did not pay for the tickets and had given them back to the fellow. Another bluecoat said he wanted to see the fellow get the full extent of the law, and another said something about liking to get his money back.

The cause for all this subdued rumbling among the enforcers of the law became apparent when Detective Hart walked into the station two hours later with Lionel V. Redpath, a fine-looking, well-dressed man from the balmy clime of California, who has been in the police station before. While Clerk Reel was registering the prisoner, the latter asked a Post-Intelligencer reporter to "just overlook this matter until I get a chance to straighten it up."

The affair Redpath wanted to straighten up was a charge of obtaining money under false pretences in connection with a suit-of-clothes lottery, from which the clothes were not forthcoming on the day set, and in which the police were the principal gamblers. Each officer who was asked if he had been caught replied immediately in the negative, but admitted that there had been a general sweep in the matter.

The case, which is causing no end of joking among the others, is based on the following ticket and others of a similar character:

"No. 91. 91 Cents. This ticket entitles the bearer to one chance in a suit of clothes, overcoat or trousers to the value of $30. Made by Ford Epler, Merchant Tailors, Epler Block. Drawings given every Saturday night at 8:30 o'clock."

According to the story, Lionel V. Redpath went to police headquarters and offered to sell tickets like these to the policemen. The plan of the "lottery," as it is generally termed, is to have a certain number of tickets ranging in value from 1 cent to $1. A ticket is drawn and the drawer pays the price the ticket happens to call for. If he draws a 1-cent ticket he pays 1 cent, yet has an equal chance in the final drawing with a man who pays 91 cents.

It is said that a large number of the officers took tickets, hoping to get a new suit of clothes for a few cents. It is also claimed that Redpath said the drawing would come off two weeks ago last Saturday night. It did not, however, and then the officers wanted their money back, but did not get it. The drawing was repeatedly postponed until last night, when Redpath was arrested on the charge of obtaining money under false pretences.

A reporter went to the Epler Block last night to see Ford Epler, but neither of them was in. The Ferguson House, at the northwest corner of Seneca and Front streets, was also visited in hopes of finding Epler. It was said there that he had moved some time ago and that his present home was not known.

Detective James Wells, who investigated the tailor's side of the case to some extent, said that, as he understood it, the tailor's name which appeared on the cards did not indicate that the seller was an agent. He had been informed by tailors — not Epler — that they gave a man a price on certain goods. The man sold his tickets and simply paid for the clothes which the holder of the lucky ticket demanded.