Newell, Stub, and Hall, George, prom. 1869, U.S., hoax. A traveling salesman, Stub Newell from Binghamton, N.Y., was in Iowa when he heard an evangelist preaching about giants having been in that territory in biblical times. Some time later, back in New York at Stub's place near Cardiff, he had a man and a boy work on digging a well behind his barn, when they came across a huge stone giant, more than ten feet tall. Once they got it cleaned off, they could see individual hairs, tiny pores in its skin, and all the detail that convinced onlookers that the creature was a petrified giant from ancient times. With amazing quickness, Newell started charging the people who wanted to see the phenomenon. When people challenged its genuineness, he had some museum experts brought in, and the most they could say was that the discovery certainly deserved some attention.

Newell took the Cardiff Giant to Albany, to be shown--for a fee, of course—to visitors to the Geological Hall at the university. Showman P.T. Barnum came to town and offered Newell $150,000 for the giant. When Newell turned down the offer, Barnum had a giant of his own constructed out of plaster of Paris, and for a while the two giants lay within blocks of each other in New York City, vying for audiences to believe that each was the real one.

A professor named O.C. Marsh, however, had been doing some quiet detective work. He knew what kind of stone the giant was made of, and he knew where that stone was originally found, so he went to Iowa and found George Hall in Fort Dodge who admitted to having created the Cardiff Giant. Newell immediately admitted that the whole thing had been a trick he had played. The audiences for the giant grew as people became willing to laugh; everyone, that is, except the professors who took it all very seriously. The Cardiff Giant was exhibited at the Famer's Museum of the New York State Historical Association at Cooperstown, N.Y.

Newman, Julia St. Clair, b.1818, Brit., theft-fraud. Julia Newman was a Creole born in the West Indies. Her early background provided no clue as to the future direction of her life. She was educated in France but moved to London where she carved out a living committing petty theft and acts of fraud. Her favorite swindle was renting a furnished room and then selling the landlady's belongings to the highest bidder.

Newman was arrested and sentenced to Millbank Prison on Mar. 11, 1837. She soon proved to be an incorrigible prisoner, becoming hysterical and attacking her jailers without provocation. She encouraged her fellow inmates to riot, tore up books given to her, and chewed through her straitjacket while in solitary confinement. Unable to cope with her, the British authorities banished her to Australia's penal colony, where she was never heard from again.


Norfleet, J. Frank, b.1864, U.S., det. Victims of con artists often keep the story of their losses to themselves, dreading the public discovery even more than they wish to recoup their losses. This was not the case with Texas cattleman J. Frank Norfleet who fell victim to the age-old "magic wallet" trick, perfected by the legendary con man William Elmer Mead.

Mead's disciples--Joe Furey, W.B. Spencer, E.J. Ward, Charles Gerber, and Reno Hamlin--met Norfleet at the St. George Hotel in Dallas in 1920. Posing as a wealthy financier, Joe Furey "planted" his wallet close to Norfleet. The cattleman picked it up and returned the billfold--with money still in it—to the rightful owner. Furey was so grateful that he offered a $100 reward, which Norfleet graciously declined to accept. Furey then offered to cut his new-found friend in on a little stock deal--a sure thing bound to make them all rich. He insisted on "investing" the $100 reward on Norfleet's behalf. The next day, Furey and his fellow "investors" counted out $3,000 in currency and handed the entire sum to the amazed J. Frank Norfleet. They told him to keep the money, but to be sure to return the following day.

The next day Norfleet was told that he had cleared $200,000. In a technique known to seasoned con men as the "hurrah," the bills were placed in stacks before him. As Norfleet prepared to leave the office with his windfall, Furey and his accomplices introduced the final element of the intrigue: the "convincer." They told Norfleet he would have to put up $45,000 to offset any possible losses the investors might have incurred if the deal had fallen through. The rancher hedged but finally agreed to give them $20,000, and they accepted. But when a Fort Worth lawman who had provided police protection to the gang for years insisted on an additional $25,000 they went back to Norfleet with the explanation that his earnings had magically doubled over night and that more "earnest money" was required. Norfleet grudgingly complied, draining his bank account of its remaining funds. Furey and his henchmen then pulled the classic envelope switch on their victim, leaving him with a collection of newspaper clippings while they decamped with $45,000 in cash. Believing that they were safe, the five swindlers divided the loot and went their separate ways.

After the Dallas Police, the Pinkerton National Detective Agency, and the William J. Burns Agency said there was little they could do for him, Norfleet decided to hunt down the swindlers himself and embarked on a three-year trek across the U.S. that brought him into contact with a host of unsavory con men and shell operators. The trail first took him to San Bernadino, Calif., where Ward and Gerber had been incarcerated by police. A local tipster had put the police on their trail. Norfleet identified the pair to local authorities. Instead of facing an extended prison sentence, Ward committed suicide.

In a Montana brothel Norfleet next found Reno Hamlin. After lassoing him, Norfleet dragged the con man through the town's muddy main street, directly into the arms of the sheriff. Finding Spencer and Furey proved more difficult. Norfleet's travels took him through seventeen states and into England, Canada, Mexico, and Cuba before he caught up with his elusive quarry in Montreal late in 1923. He found Spencer in a crowd of spectators outside the Hotel Windsor, observing a peculiar kind of dare-devil known as the "human fly" scaling a large building. Recognizing Norfleet, Spencer pushed his way through the crowd and dashed into a movie theater. Although the Texan stayed with him every step of the way, pulling and tearing at him in the darkened aisle of the theater, Spencer was able to escape through the exit door. Norfleet followed him all the way to Salt Lake City where Spencer decided to surrender to police rather than face Norfleet one more time. Spencer was sentenced to a long term in the Leavenworth Penitentiary.

Joe Furey was the last name on the list. Norfleet had been keeping close tabs on Furey's wife in Los Angeles through an agent of Western Union who he paid to spy on the house. When he learned from the agent that checks from a Jacksonville, Fla., were arriving on a regular basis, Norfleet bought a ticket on the first train bound for the Florida city. Arriving in town he secured an arrest warrant and then began to stalk his prey. He found Furey in a local restaurant and dove at the startled con man, wrestling him to the floor. A waiter intervened and smashed a bottle over Norfleet's head, but the vigilante refused to loosen his grip on Norfleet's neck.

The police arrested both men and took them down to the station. When Norfleet showed the police his warrant they turned Furey over to him, and the two returned to Dallas by train. With the chase at an end, Norfleet returned to his ranch only to find it in a sad state of neglect. He soon realized that the thrill of the chase meant more to him than leading a quiet life as a rancher. J. Frank Norfleet hit the road again, and spent the remainder of his days tracking down such hustlers as Lou Blonger and Adolph W. Duff and his gang. By the time he was through, Norfleet had exposed about 500 tricksters, many of whom went to jail.

From the World Encyclopedia of Con Artists and Confidence Games