The Revolver as the Best Protection
A hardware merchant turns the tables on a would-be highwayman on Queen Anne Hill.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A while ago as H. Vincent Collins, of the firm of Collins Brothers, was walking along Thomas Avenue to his home on Queen Anne Hill, a man suddenly stepped in front of him and told him to throw up his hands. Collins is a hardware man, and, knowing of the numerous hold-ups that were happening in the city, had taken a revolver from the store before leaving. He had this in his hand in his coat pocket and, when the summons came, up came the hand and revolver with it. The masked battery was too much for the unprepared highwayman and he went flying down Thomas Avenue like an electric car ten minutes behind time.
“The masked battery was too much for the unprepared highwayman.”
Fear of street crime defined city life in 1893 just as it often dominates modern civic discourse. This vignette captures the vigilante spirit of an era where residents felt they had to carry their own protection against a perceived epidemic of lawlessness.
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