Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1888-12-28
A CHECKERED CAREER

A Once Popular Journalist and Prom
inent Politician in tho Garb of a
Tramp and With the Blood Of HIS
Wife and Child Upon MIN.
The editor of the Davenport Times met
an old friend the other day with re-
markable career back of him. We take
the Times mans word for that, and he re-
lates the circumstances of the meeting
with the new found, old time acquain-
lance in graphic and interesting man
ner. He was one OF the nameless throng
that nightly besiege the police stations
for lodging. He had roasted in the Dav-
export station house and had just gotten
out into the fresh air when the Times man
met him. and we will leave the latter to
tell the rest of the story:
He rather shirked investigation. when
leaving the police station. He pulled his
wide "a wake over his ears and toyed ner-
vously with the buttons Of his coat, as this
scribe tried to say something friendly IN
order to draw him into conversation. He
was big fellow. There was silver In his
hair which his pocket could not cash and
pleasant manner about him, which be-
tokened one who had slept on something
softer than the Stats Of police stations
His apparel was of the seedy genteel. He
was clearly shaver. and when approached
seemed to have mission at some great
distance where the horizon was bleak and
no eye could see him, and no hand could
stay him even in friendship. As the Sc
quel proved he had wandered SO far and
in such multitude of places that he
feared one thing worse than starvation,
and that was recognition. He was
pushing out of town unconscious Of even
the direction of his steps. North OIL
south, east or west was the same to him
if only he could shake the air of the po-
lice station from him On being ques
toned with:
well, old man, how is this fol
snowH" he turned. and with searching
eye he looked on his questioner and said
The weather is all the same to me.
knew you about twenty years in newspa
per work in California and Oregon.
set type for Tony Neither on the ole
Democratic Rerieo in Salem. Oregon. in
1867, when you were editing that sheet
, Don't you remember good, genial, big
hearted Fred McRelish, of the Sa
Francisco Daily Alta' Fred's dead. H
tried to make man of me. And Their
was Marriott of the Netf
T Letter and B Frank Washington O
the Post" and so he crowded i
brief whisper the recollections OF gen
Grafton. Il don't drink-haven't fc
r eighteen yesrs-not since shot my wifi
, and child in Salt Lake City. You kno'
all about it, old man. got ten yes
sentence | have served my time
E have been wauderer ever SINCE" an
d almost palsied with the excitement whic
this enforced revelation drew from hin
. this so-called tramp. who courted tn
cheer, such as it was, at the police sta
ton last night, continued his pursuit ,
: the intangible
It This man WAS Alfred B Conant, on,
:, a private secretary TO Gov McDou9sll, {
> California. for two years the pet poet {
Il the Californian Editorial association,
l. writer of marked originality, and nov
= tormented with the feelings Of TRACED
J.. IN which his hand laid low his wife AT
child, he is seeking tonight that end of
II country barn where the wind does n
l. interview with interrogation points Il
ID lonely, remorse stricken wsy>farer who
q brains are worth drschmss of gold, b
- whose spirit is isolation and oblivion.