The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-09-10
The Fleet Street Tragedy.

His appearance was that of an oil
man, his conversation and manner thos
of young one. Passing by the fire sra
: ton on the way TO and from my home
somehow came TO know him.
i was not the only one who knew him
though his acquaintance seemed few
But one Of my more intimate friends re
marked:
Have you ever heard winners story
you know, the man who haunts the FIR
station?"
Learning that had not, he told me al
he knew.
tie more than a boy, starting life in tn
office of the Report, then as now a pa
per Of some standing.
One day young man called, asking
for work. Liking his eager, hopeful way
( the editor offered 70 try him. and com
missioned him 10 report the mex: olg
fire.
Fires somehow seemed scarce aud day;
passed and yet none came. Disheartenec
| though he must have been, Wilmer. which
was the young mans name. decided tc
wait and watch outside one Of the chief
fire stations of London. Day after day
! saw him there. ever ready TO rust 10
the scene of fire. but for Some time
@OA4C NdAiC- LAY ny Jay HcCh OS NCrF-i
he grew thinner, his eyes wilder.
AT last, one morning. the fire bell
changed; a few seconds passed. the doors
of the station few open, and the engine
darted out. Eager to catch any parti-
| Gle of information as to the whereabouts
| of the fire, Wilmer darted forward.
! What happened l do not rightly know.
! There was shout from the crowd. hor-
rible thud, and something was carried
| into the station, to be borne later TO the
| hospital. That something was Wilmer.
Two years passed. So easily do things
fade from our memory that l had almost
forgotten Wilmer. when one day. pass
Ing the fire station, as was nv wont. at
which the accident had occurred, l was
surprised to see a thin, familiar figure
| leaning YEARLY against one OF the gate
posts.
Uncertain whether he would know me
after two years, l was about to pass on.
when, turning his head. he caught sight
of me and, crossing the road. stopped
me.
- Mr.. Jackson he said, tell me. is the
editor very anxious for this copy, the no
tice of the fire? And, Mr.. Jackson, do
you think he will I'LL the post II I'm not
quick, do you? 1t isn't my fault, as you
know; I have waited here weeks, but
I've no luck-no luck.
For a moment 1 thought he must have
been to the office again. But no, 1 was
sure he had not. Then-then he was mad:
the accident and want had turned his
brain, and he imagined that he was still
waiting for copy. wholly unconscious CT
the two years that had elapsed
Il hardly knew how TO answer him, but
seeing the futility of trying to explain TO
n i'm he r
could and passed on. That Is ten years
ago, and he stands there still. He looks
30; he cannot be more than SO, but his
weary waiting has aged him, and he is
now an old man, waiting for copy, the
copy which never comes"
Here my friend ended, and we sat and
thought, thought of what we too might
have suffered had not luck been with US
aye. just luck.
The next day his post was empty, and
then 1t was that l realized what a blank
his absence made in my life. Well, I
would go and see him, I thought. Per-
haps he was Ill.
Just as 1 was turning away from the
fire station the alarm bell changed; a ling
ling of harness and the engine dashed
off, bearing its brave burden on their err
rand of mercy to where a dull red glow
W oS d4ISduy IcISCteu Oh the SKY.
Wilmer was not there, and for the time
at least bewailed the unkindness of fate
-unkind to one who had known naught
but reverses and sorrow.
Anyway, / thought, would go, gather
all the information I could take it to
Wilmer if he were indeed i'll, and leave
the rest to him. So, hailing a hanson, l
was soon on my way to the fire. darting
through the motley crowd passing toward
the grand but awful scene. Soon 1 reach
ed it, and I recognized the building as
belonging to a large firm of paper mer-
chants.
But, though the flames were alone
enough to hold ones attention, all that I
saw was a short, thin figure darting here
and there, taking notes, regardless of the
danger from the falling masonry. 1t was
Wilmer! His face, lit up by the CLEAN
of the flames, was TRANSPORTED by look
of triumph. Seeing me, he quickly tore
over to where I was standing.
"Ah, Jackson the berths mine. you see
all mine. Isn't 1t a glorious fire? Ha,
ha! a glorious fire! And it is to make
my name-my name. Jackson. The berth |
will be mine-all mine"
And so his brain still dwelt on that time |
years before; still he imagined himself /
a young reporter waiting for his first |
chance.
But I mustn't stop here. Jackson" he /
chuckled; 81 must see to this fire of |
mine"
OFF he darted, and 7 could see him here |
and there amid the red glow, evading the |
vigilance of the watchful police, who were
trying to keep the crowd out of dam
ger.
Stand back there! NY God. Stand
10 oil
ate. Crash! Part Of the wall had fallen
on Wilmer!
Forward the fremen rushed and COM
nenced to haul the hot stonework and
iebris from off Wilmer; he might still |
i've. How I prayed that it might be so,
10 one but God knows. Why weren't the
iremen quicker? He would be sunocated.
could stand the inactivity no longer.
lad to do something TO help him Fran
ically I tore the bricks away from him;
ny hands were horribly scorched. but
AIRED nothing. 1t was for him, for WI
ner.
At last we reached him How still he
ay. His face. blackened and burned, still
yore the look OF triumph. Gently we laid
i'm down and forced brandy between his /
eeth, and slowly his eyes opened.
Jackson" he muttered wildly. why
m I lying here-how IS &? Let me get
p-let me go, or-or I shall be" He
made a spasmodic effort 10 rise. but fell I
ack again unconscious, Ike one dead
Presently his lips began to move. and
leaned down, with a great sob rising In
~ throat, 10 catch his words. First,
is mutterings were incoherent. but they
rev palmer by degrees.
When VIII the liz conner" he muttsr- G
1. 1T must come soon-or 7 shall starve
-starve.
''Why-why not light one for myself c