Evening journal., 1903-03-03
STORY OF A SCOOP 2

OF my old TREND Jeremiah Smpklns son. |
There isn't a solder man in the Boston |
leather trade than Jeremiah, nor bigger |
scamp that the law can't touch than hisson |
Ezra. There isn't an ounce Of real mean
ness in Ezra's whole body, but he's just nat
urally and unintentionally a maverick |
When he came out of college his father
thought that a few years experience in the
hide department Of Graham & Co. would be
good thing for him before he tackled the
leather business. SO l wrote to send him on
and l would give him job, supposing, of
course, that l was getting a yearling of the
steady, old, reliable Simpkins strain.
l was a little uneasy when Ezra reported,
because he didn't just look as if he had had
a call to leather. lie was a tall, spare New
Englander, with one of those knobby fore
heads which has been pushed out by the
overcrowding Of the brain, OF bulged by the
thickening of the skull, according as you
like or dislike the man. His manners were
easy or familiar by the same standard He
told me right at the start that, while he
didn't know what he wanted to do, he was
dead sure that it wasn't the leather bust
ness. It seemed that he had said the same
thing to his father and that the Oldham had
answered, "Tut, tut" and told him to for
get it and to learn hides.
Simpldns learned all that he wanted to
know about the packing industry in 30 days,
and l learned all that L wanted to know
about Ezra in the same time. Pork packing
seemed to be the only thing that he wasn't
interested in. got his resignation one day
just five minutes before the one which
was having written out for him was ready;
for / will do Simpiins the justice to say
that there was nothing slow about him. He
and his father split up, temporarily, over
it, and, Of course, it cost me the old mans
trade and friendship. l want to say right
here that the easiest way in the world to
make enemies is to hire friends.
l lost sight of SimpBins for awhile, and
then he turned up at the office one morning
Is friendly and familiar as ever. Said he
was reporter and wanted to interview me
on the December wheat deal. OF course l
wouldn't talk on that, but l gave him a
little fatherly advice-told him he would
sleep in a hall bedroom all his life if he
didn't quit his foolishness and 60 back to
his father, though didn't really believe it.
He thanked me and went off and wrote a
column about what might have said about
December wheat, and somehow gave the i'm
preston that had said it.
The next / heard of SimplIins he was
dead The Associated Press dispatches an
nounced it, the Cuban junta confirmed it,
and, last Of all, long dispatch from Simp-
lSins himself detailed the circumstances
leading up to the "atrocity," as the head
lines in his paper called it.
/ got long wire from Ezra's father ask
ing me to see the managing editor and get
at the facts for him. II seemed that the pa
per had thought heap of SimplSins, and
that he had been sent out to Cuba as a cor
respondent and stationed with the insur-
gent army. Simpkins in Cuba had evident
lily lived up TO the reputation Of Simpkins in
Chicago. When there was any news he
sent it, and when there wasn't he just made
news and sent that along.
The first word Of his death had come in
his own letter, brought across on filibus
tering steamer and wired on from Jackson
vile. 1t told, with close attention to detail
something he had learned since he left me
@ how he had strayed away from the little
+ band of insurgents with which he had beer
. out scouting and had blundered into the
Spanish lines. He had been promptly made
4 prisoner, and, despite his papers proving
his American citizenship, and the nature oi
I his Job, and the red cross on his sleeve, he
had been tried by drumhead court-martia
and sentenced to be shot at dawn. All thii
@ he had written out, and then that his ac
count might be complete, he had gone OF
and imagined his own execution. This was
d, written in a sort Of pigeon, or perhaps you
would call it black Spanish, English, and le
on to be the work Of the eyewitness t.
n whom Simpkins had conided his letter. III,
g had been the sentry over the prisoner, anC
for a small bribe in hand and the promis
of a larger one from the paper, he ha,
81 turned his back on Simpkins while he wrot
l. out the story, and afterward had deserte,
J. and carried it to the Cuban lines
" The account ended: "Then, as the orde
10 to fire was given by the lieutenant, Seno
lsimpkins raised his eyes toward heaven anC
cried: i protest in the name of my Amer
can citizenship" At the end Of the letter
p and not intended for publication, wa
" scrawled: "This is a bully scoop for you
g. boys, but it's pretty tough on me. Good-b,
m Simpkins."
Of The managing editor dashed tear froI
his eve when he read this to me, and gulpe
little as he said: 81 can't help it; he wa
\. such a thoughtful boy. Why, he even r
m membered to inclose descriptions for th
M picturesl"
IN Simpkins' last story covered the who
Of the front page and three columns Of Il
second, and it just naturally sold cords {
papers. His editor demanded that the stat
I'll department take it up, though the Spa
IL iards denied the execution or any previoI
&C. knowledge Of any such person as this SEM
TO Simplxins. That made another page in q
Is paper, Of course, and then they got up
memorial service, which was good for thr
columns. One of those fellows that you ca
.ly find in every Office, who goes around al
ne makes the boys give up their lunch mon'
.so to buy flowers for the deceased aunt of d
~, cellar boss wife, managed to collect
among our clerks, and they sent a for
oi notebook, with "Gone to Press" done
m blue immortelles on the cover, as the
Or "tribute."
1 put on a plug hat and attended the ser
: ice out of respect for his father. But h
hardly got back to the Office before ]
eeived a wire from Jamaica reading; "Cal
your correspondent here let me have hu
dred. Notify father all hunk. Keepi da