Rapscallion is probably one of the better catch-all words to describe Bob Moore, author of DON’T CALL ME A CROOK!: A SCOTSMAN’S TALE OF WORLD TRAVEL, WHISKY, AND CRIME. First of all, the man on the cover is not Moore. Secondly, Moore’s not the writer’s name at all, which we learn in the introduction provided by his granddaughter.
This biography originally came out in 1935 as a history of Moore up until that point, setting his life story straight … and what a story! This is the kind of nonfiction which just has to be read to be believed. Not only does it feel like some old pulp story, but seems like a predecessor to Jim Thompson’s THE GRIFTERS. It is filled with such great exploits, you’ll be dumbfounded by how he got away with some of his stunts.
Moore discusses his upbringing in Glasgow, Scotland, and how at the start of WWI, he rushed off to join the military for adventure. Since he was only 16 at the time, he was not allowed in, but tried again, this time in the Royal Air Force, where he greased planes and never saw one bit of action. After the war, he hitched a boat ride to California, where the crime bug bit him when he was offered $100 from some businessman to carry a package off the train. Moore took it upon himself to open the package, discovering a cache of diamonds. So he took that package and headed back to Chicago to cash in.
Throughout the book, Moore follows the same path of coming into money, then going right out and blowing it all, only to be left high and dry until he finds another way for easy money. In his travels, he married a woman, only to send her back to Glasgow, because he was not the family type. From there, Moore ran a few scams involving sneaking people into the States, and driving for bootleggers. His writing is such a fun ride that even though you know this guy is such a crook, you can’t help but admire how he pulls it all off.
The second half deals with Moore being hired as a engineer for a wealthy family on their yacht. This section screams of the roaring ’20s from the view of someone looking from the outside in. Moore seems to come across as a troublemaker wherever he goes, instigating problems along the way, but never taking the blame himself. Along the way, we witness more of his shenanigans.
Closing out the book are his exploits in China, where he worked as an engineer and made friends with a man named Mitchell, who seems to be cut from the same cloth as Moore. What is really funny are the moments where Moore is played for a fool, and he thinks it’s just wrong. He gets upset when someone just like him steals from him.
Dissident Books has come across a lost classic with DON’T CALL ME A CROOK! It’s one that should have never fallen out of print, since it could have influenced countless others. This is the type of bio that should not only be exposed to a wider audience, but given to every pulp-loving reader out there, since no fiction writer could ever come up with such a lovable rake as Moore. —Bruce Grossman
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I agree. This one’s a winner.