Cheating at Chappaqua

MANNERS & MORALS

Residents of the outside world are inclined to look upon the citizens of New York's Westchester County as the mink, martini & money set, with hardly a petty thief in a trainload. Last week George A. Williams, the New York Central Railroad's station agent at Chappaqua in northern Westchester, shattered that illusion. Agent Williams had made a painful discovery: he was losing as much as $12 a week from the "honor system" cash box on his newspaper stand. Williams bored a hole in the ceiling above the newsstand, poked the lens of a camera through, and took movies of five well-dressed commuters (four men, one woman) putting in little coins and taking out big ones. Then he slapped a sign over the stand asking: "Shall we have an early show some morning or do I rate reimbursement?"

After the 7:43 a.m. express to New York chuffed off that day, Williams found he was $2.40 short. ("One of those birds . . . can't read," he cracked.) Next day he broke even. By that time the story was in the newspapers, and New York Central officials were expressing their concern about Williams' insulting Chappaqua's 700 commuters. Surprised at all the fuss and resigned to human nature in Chappaqua, the unreimbursed agent tossed the telltale film in the furnace and philosophically dropped one last insult: "After all . . . only five out of 700 were thieves."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.