The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-01-08
A PLAUSIBLE OLD swINDLER.
The Story Told by Frederick Dalton, Who
Has Been Beating His Way.

the Journal object" asked highly respectable
looking old gentleman of a Journal attache,
who was himself vending his way toward the
office last evening with feelings of charity for
all the world. The speaker had the appearance
and manner of man anxious to invest several
hundred dollars In a tirst-page advertisement,
and actuated by kindiiest feelings toward the
benevolent gentleman who distributes salary on
Monday, the reporter generously offered to guide
this inquirer.
"You want to find the counting-room, sup
poser asked the young man, with his best tf-
teen-cent two-for-a-quarter smile.
Eyes, sir, the counting groom, IL you please;
and, also, want to see the foreman of the news
room" It was all quite plain. The highly respect
able-lOoking old gentleman surely wanted all Of
the first page, and desired to give the foreman
some instructions in regard to the style of the
advertisement. Explaining that he would be
pleased to show him the way to the offce-it
would be no trouble, as he going directly
thoTe-the Journal youth assumed his most be-
witching man ner and the two walked on to-
gether
Are you connected with the paperf" asked
the h. T. o. G., and the young man blushingly
confessed that he was an appendage to the I'M
apinative department, his special duty being to
| write up dogfghts and report Council meetings.
AS confidence begets confidence, the highly re-
spectacle old gentleman was placed under the
painful constraint of confessing something, and,
turning abruptly around, said, with fiattering
familiarity: "Young man, guess there is
need Of me going any further | am newspaper
| man. too. have been in the business eighteen
| years owned paper in Illinois. was postmaster
| for several years, and am now en- route
! to Cincinnati TO take an editorial position on
/ C0mmprcial Gazette, While
| from ST. Louis was robbed of my gold watch,
| chain, diamond pin, and all my money, and am
| here penniless, alone, unfriended, in a strange
| city and unable to proceed to my destination.
| know no man from Indianapolis, except Senator
| Harrison, who is not now in the city. Arriving
here last night, walked the streets all night and
| all day. have had nothing to eat now for forty
| eight hours, and meeting you here-litte |
| thought would ever be brought to the level of
a street beggar-I yield to pride, and ask of you
| a favor need just $1.25 to get to Cincinnati
| I want no more than 1 actually require to
| carry me there-aDd If you will kindly loan
me that amount will return 1t. My name is
| Frederick Dalton"
| For eighteen years aiournalist of prominence,
a leader in politics, State senator, and made a
| wanderer in the streets OF strange city by a
| yillainous robbery, while the great consolidated
| newspaper-the talk of the country-was anxi-
| ously awaiting his arrival 20 take his place on
| the staff little thinking that he had fallen on
| the wayaide victim to misfortune. 1t was
pathetic, indeed. OF course the humble reporter
would give him the assistance, and would
|
mention of the matter was Unnecessary
| and Mr.. Dalton was asked to call at the editorial
rooms instead of stopping at the counting-room
| He EXPRESSED pleasure in having oppor-
| tunity to meet the various luminaries of the
Journal, but trusted that no mention of his mis-
fortune would be made, as 1t was exceedingly
! embarrassing.
After sitting for a moment the unfortunate
| journalist asked for the foreman of the news
| room, explaining that early in his career he had
| learned the cart preservative of all arts" and
| that there a fraternal tie between him and
all members OF the craft The foreman was
called through the speaking tube, and was intro
duced to Mr.. Dalton. Anybody that has been
| about newspaper office longer than
| two hours knows that if there is any charity in
the soul of foreman it is not likely TO manifest
itself in any passionate outbursts lyon were
| once a postmaster in Illinois, were YOU not Mr..
Eyes, sir" was the reply.
"And YOU were in the State Senate for quite a
| while, believe2"
| eyes, SIR"
| "And your name is Frederick Dalton2'
| "Yes SIR" and Mr.. Dalton remarked that the
| foreman seemed quite familiar with u part OF his
| history, following up the observation with an
| explanation of the embarrassing circumstances
| under W hich he had arrived in Indianapolis
| The foreman abruptly left the room, excusing
| himself for moment, and the unsuspecting re-
porter was called upstairs shortly afterward. 1t
developed that the foreman, with careful eye
| to dead beatism, had heard of Mr. Dalton telling
the same story of his misfortunes to Rev. Myron
W. Reed, and getting 81 70 on the strength of it,
a day or two before.
When the reporter returned to the editorial
room ne mentioned TO Mr.. Dalton, in the course
of conversation, that Rev. MyrOn W. Reed was
upstairs reading the proof of sermon which
would appear in the morning paper, and that
the foreman had incidentally mentioned his
name to him; Mr. Reed would be down in few
moments. and would be pleased to
make his acquaintance The counteDance
| of the highly-respectabl old gentleman
and unfortunate journalist assumed a somewhat
agitated expression.
"If should return in a moment I could see
Mr.. Reed, supposed" he asked, starting toward
the door.
"Oh, yes, in half an hour. he will be down by
that time"
81 suppose I could see Mr.. Reed at church
could notl" he inquired, after getting outside
the door.
| eyes, if you prefer"
| And the rapidity with which Mr.. Dalton de
scended the three flights of stairs was rather re
| markable for a man OF sixty years. There are
| probably many people in Indianapolis who have
| met him. II may be explained, however. that he
failed to call tor Mr.. Reed at church last even
ing.