The professional prosecutor is continually surprised at the insignificant amount of crime existing in comparison with the extraordinary scope of criminal opportunity.  To be sure, the number of crimes actually detected is infinitesimal as contrasted with those committed, but even so the conviction constantly grows that the world is astonishingly honest when one considers the unlikelihood that any specific prospective offence will be discovered.  How few dishonest servants there are, for example, out of the million or so composing that class of persons who have an unlimited opportunity to snap up not only unconsidered trifles, but personal property of great value.  The actual honesty of the servants is probably greater than that of the masters—­in the final analysis.

Men are not only “presumed to be innocent” in the eyes of the law, but are found to be so, as a matter of daily experience, so far as honesty in the ordinary affairs of life is concerned, and the fact that we rely so implicitly upon the truthfulness and integrity of our fellows is the principal reason why violations of this imperative social law should be severely dealt with.  If it were possible adequately to determine or deal with any such issue mere lying should be made a crime.

It is matter of constant wonder that shrewd business men will put through all sorts of deals, when thousands of dollars are at stake, relying entirely upon the word of some single person, whom they do not in fact know.  John Smith is looking for a house.  He finds one he likes with an old lady, who says her name is Sarah Jones, living in it, and offers her forty thousand dollars for her real estate.  She accepts.  His lawyer searches the title and finds that Sarah Jones is the owner of record.  The old lady is invited to the lawyer’s office, executes a warranty deed, and goes off with the forty thousand dollars.  Now in a great number of instances no one really knows whether the aged dame is Sarah Jones or not; and she perhaps may be, and sometimes is, only the caretaker’s second cousin, who is looking after the house in the latter’s absence.

There are thousands of acres of land and hundreds of millions of money waiting at compound interest to be claimed by unknown heirs or next of kin.  Even if the real ones cannot be found one would think that this defect could be easily supplied by some properly ingenious person.

“My Uncle Bill went to sea in ’45 and was never heard from again.  Will you find out if he left any money?” wrote a client to the author.  Careful search failed to reveal any money.  But if the money had been found first how easy it would have been to turn up a nephew!  Yet the industry of producing properly authenticated nephews, heirs, legatees, next of kin and claimants of all sorts has never been adequately developed.  There are plenty of “agents” who for a moderate fee will inform you whether or not there is a fortune waiting for you, but there is no agency within the writer’s knowledge which will supply an heir for every fortune.  From a business point of view the idea seems to have possibilities.