COLUMBIA UBRARIES OFFSITE AVERY FINE ARTS RESTHICTED -P.O.Box 94, SAK AliTOKlO 6, Oi-t5\TC V.I (Tnis Volume) 1, Ulnterlng the newspaper lield. Lly first smell oi printer* s inic Pirsx, repor^cer on tiie iVashingtoa Times E» iVhen Goxey Game to ii'asuington . '6, To tne Aesoaiated Press Interviewing Grover Cleveland xiHdree and the liorth Pole The Hoooicen i^'ire. 4, »V41dest days in Journalism On i^he E.Y. American Hearst, Gnamberlain, Handall, Parrelly, El^ridge, Charlie Llichelson .(hen Homer Davenport got a ^5,000 raise Little Llayors oi' Lew York In a real opium den. 5, Interview witn Tom Lee, Llayor oi uhinatown, witn -53,000 oa his neaa; we were guarded oy tong gunmen, hatchet men and detectives. 6, Getting an intervievj with Police commissioner (Valdo who lor xive years nad a rock-riobed oraer against oeing quoted . ?• Beau Brummels ox the Press, Hero owope, iidwin G. Hill. o. The Qoy who got -^10 lor Jcnocking James Gordon Bennet down. y. Spying out Aviation lor tne worla, Byron tewton. 10.. "Go out and xina Peary" tne v.ild scramole to the Arctic. Behind the Gaoin Door Gnosts xrom Gold storage Peary or l-ook. 11. Amundsen the quiet. Lly prediction tnat ne would beat Scott lor tne discovery ox the oouth Pole; he did by one month and a lew days. 12. Sinking of the ^press of Ireland Ily great luck with pictures and an exclusive interview with the only man who saw the crash coming; officer of the day on board the -jnpress. 13. The Gannan LIurder Case. Lly stories xorced a second trial Lly talks with the prosecuting attorney, sheriff, lawyer for Mrs. Carman, police and citizens convinced me she killed LIrs • Bailey accidentally Tried only to scare here LIrs. Carman was a right handed wom.an, shot with her leit hand and maae a s^^ot Buffalo Bill could not make. IKTl^ODUGTIOM Horace 5reeley, that elder statesman oi journalism, Ouce told Charles ^. Dana, another brilliant pioueer oi the modern nev«spaper, that the real neviispaper man v»as the boy who slept on newspapers and ate Ini^* Dana told that to a journalism class at Union College. He added a levj qualixioations of his ovm: the greatest book, of all Viias the Bible and it suould be read constantly for its simplicity of style, its solemn recounting of great events, its reverence. Kext came the vvorics ox Shaicespeare whom Dana called the "chiei master of the English language." Tue^ he gave his listeners something oi a shocic by telling them a good general ggtiiggg education, with G-reek and latin, was far more valuable lor the mailing oi a newspaper man than the schools of journalism. Bluntly, he told them: "I have never found that a student or graduate who nad pursued that department instead of pursuing other studies was of any great avail as a practical worker in the newspaper work he ksjs had bee^^ trying to learn." James Gordon Bennett, third oi that trie of great editors oi forty and fifty years ago, approvjd all these lundamentals , too, and farthered them, but he maintained that the Greeley-Dana curriculum x"ell sjiort in one respect it v.ould be made periect by an assiduous reading and study oi that best-seller of Hoah ffebster's, the dictionary, to go along with the Bible, Shakespeare, a nap on a newspaper pile and a bite of ink. And Bennett, the first and 2 Il^THO probably the only editor to do so, puolished a sixteeu-page pamphlet, a guide and authority on the proper use ot the ^nglidh language I'or his editors when preparing manuscript lor the Mevi/ York Herald. It was meticulous in its suhooling, and Bennett insisted ou his editors Observing it to its last detail. Observations through more th.n riity years in the tield oi journalism bring one to the conclusion that most young men entering that as a liie woric, had as their uackgrouud the Greeley-Dana-Bennett xormula; and they got their tirst iuspirations irom the glaiiiOr, vnor th-while achievements, adventures and dangers surrounding reporters, editors and vmr correspondents. Primarily the urge was to make a living, but aoove that was the halo of greatness that still hovers around such names as Sreeley, Dana, Bennett, Henry .Vatterson, Clark Howell, John R. McLean, Joseph Pulitzer, H. Hearst and others. Around the corner irom my iiome lived Alfred Henry lewis, editorial writer of the Washington Post and one oi the loremost columnists oi the aay. Across tne street lived Allie Lyon, executive editor ox the Evening Star. Each of these, as he strolled leisurely off to his office, seemed to me the embodiment of an ideal life, confident, independent, worth vynile ai..d sometuing of an oracle to the thousands ox persons who avidly read his writings and his preachments from day to day. And unfolding from time to time came the amazing adventures and harro¥»lng lives oi some of the famous war correspondents of J?reaericlc Palmer in the ijoxer Hebellion, and the Greek, Spanish- American, Husso-iLapanese and Balkan Wars; ox Ralph Lleeker in the Turco-i^ussian .lar; oi Rlcharci Haraing- Davis in the upanisii-^ier ican War and South Airica; and the variegated episodes oi Henry II. Stanley. Born in «7ales as John Hollands, Stanley vy. Howard, who vouched lor me to the boarding ofiicers at liverpool, malcing easy my admission to Sngland. Sir Ian Key, Captain of Scotland Yard, Glenhynland, Scotland, vi/hose name paSsed me through many tight situations. jOhn K^mpton, Scotland Yard l.lan, at T)over, i]ngland, who facilitated my trips across the i.orth Sea and the j]nglish Channel. Sir Douglas Brownrigg, Chief Censor, British Adm.iralty, who sent me across the iNorth Sea to Dunkirk, France, several times, and to the highly restricted mine laying base at Inverness, Scotland. Admiral Hugh Rodman, commanding our Sixth Battle Squadron, who entertained me several times aboard his flagship the llew York, and put me aooard the battleship i/yoming when the Grand ?le3t tvent out to receive the surrender of the German High Seas Fleet. commander J. H. Dathan, commanding- the British Demolition Unit around Qstend, Belgium, who jumped me into a safe spot in the Hotel couronne wnen timed mines ulew up the railroad station across the street. Henry ?, 7/oods, who read the first draft of my manuscript and offered welcome suggestions. Llrs. Clifton V. 3dwards, wno urged me to assemble my more important experiences in a book. Ilajor J. 3. S. Richardson, who also urged me to put my varied stories together. Anna w'olcott Bryant, who, as a schoolmate, was the first subscriber and contributor to my youthful journalistic enterprise, the Eagle, smallest nevtispaper printed in this country. i.lrs. Alice I.larsden Swift, who generously helped me to prepare manuscript. commander Robert 3. Read, executive officer of the American Bombing Base at Dunkirk, my greatest aid and co-actor, who more than once risiced his life with me to get news, and nolped me in many other ways. Perhaps a better title to this volume would be "Read and I TIE SMALLEST lEWSPAISH SVSR My first step toward the newspaper field my first smell of printing ink came when my uucle Harry Morrison, of Gonnersville , Indiana, sent to my urother Clifton V. Edwards and myself, a small printing presso^for Christmas. It was an Excelsior, hand-operated, with a chase three inches by five. That is, we could print a type form a bit under that size. A compositor on the Evening star gave us a handful of type to play with. In it was an excellent little electrotype of an eagle. ^Ve printed a few cards and such things. Then my orotner suggested: "Why don't you get out a newspaper, a little weekly, for your school companions and the girls and boys around the neigh- borhood? It'll keep you busy on Saturdays, and be lots of fun»'» My brother could not nelp much with the manual work because he was going to law school in the uaytiir.e, setting type in a printsnop at uight, and then studying into the wee sma' nours when he came home from work. Right then and there I decided to be a newspaper publisher, That was going into the newspaper business right from the top down; but it was not long beiore I was coming in from the bottor. up; and I mean bottom. We decided on a weekly paper, for school and neighborhood girls and boys and otners. What for a name? we must have sometning substantial ■ TEE EAGLE. LOCALS. The girls of the Maury School, - hive org-.nized themselves into two military companies, known as the Maury Cadets. | It is expected that there will soon be a game of foot-ball, between the Athletic and Georgetown teams. Vol.1. DECEMBER 7, 1889. No.1. FOOTBALL GAME. The first regular number of the EAGLE, will be issued December 6th. SUBSCRIBE FOR THE EAGLE An exciting game of football was pUyed hat SitUadxy between the Ath- letic and Bliir School clubs, on the grounds nejir Lincoln Park. The score was 4 to 4 at the end of the second half. The fditures of the game were the running and tickling of R. Maupin of the Athletics, and Juenemann of the Blairs. Another game Thurs- day. ^ EAGIE. rheHome Literary club Mis. I '.- "^■''idence of called to orde,- .-,t about 7 clock, and .-,t the re Tf °^ " '"ajonty a e- c- ect,o« of ofiic.ri took Mr. Ton, Kirby was elected president, AJ s. A»"a W. Hryant vice^pres' e ary, and Philipp Henry, ^'^•■cklerwa.s elected treas^j Next came the program ' >."e wh.ch consi.sted^f a tew .selection,, prepared by -ome of the members ^ vJd rt^'"r'' ^ere'ser- at \ adjourned at about 9.15 o'clock. hUda iM.ss.Anna Jiryanf.c ■^•^ Kast Capitol .street and w „ be held on Friday m::c,;3'.:"^"-^''"^'-^^'v; schoolTxjncei^ {he concert.s to be civ- en by the school.s at Odd- fellows' Hall ihe comin. W ednesday, Ti,ursdav and l-nday. are said to be bet- ter than the previous school concerts. A chorus composed of I about a hundred voices will be seated on each side of I the stage, an par- H 2 3TAHT and yet decorative. And there it was; handed to us by the star compositor that little cut of an eagle. so we called it The Eagle, and on December 7, lbb9 , the very first copy of The Eagle came flying out number 1, Volume 1 four pages. It was the smallest newspaper ever printed in this country. The type xacing was exactly one and fi ftean-sixteenths of an inch wide and two and seven-eightns of an inch long. The sheet size was two and one-half inches wide by three and a half inches long. It was the first tabloid in this country perhaps in the world. The Sagle was no "hand-out" paper, no free newspaper. 110, sir. It could have been admitted into the Audit Bureau of Circulations, because every copy and all advertising was paid for. There was nothing Free auout The Eagle; we were hard-boiled money- grabbers. Our"flag,"the editorial announcement, at the top of ^ page 2 read: "Subscription rates one month, five cents. Advertisements.. One time, one cent a line. Editors D.LI .Edwards and V/.T .Kirby." We two editors were each just fifteen years old and in the eighth grade school. Most of our subscribers weru girld and boys around thirteen to seventeen, but we had more than twenty persons of middle age who subscribed and gave us warm encouragement. Prior to our first regular issue, we printed a sample copy and circulated it around our school and in the neighborhood. The very first one handed out at school brought a subscription. A smiling-eyed miss looked over The Eagle quickly, reached into her pocket and pulled out a nickel. Our first subscriber; paid in advance. You betchaj Money I Five cents. We wrote down her name: "Anna Bryant", and the instructions to deliver at her 3 START home. ;,'a did not know who she was. But there joi was a smile of curiosity, interest and friendliness aoout her that made us ieal that success was right around the corner. soon after this, about our third issue, we received our first classified ad. It was handed to us in an envelope with three cents. Three lines. Advertising, paid, in advance. someone had confidence in us. It read: "WAIJTED: Tablets 9 feet oy 6, wnich size is necessary for algebra examples. A. B." And iu another envelope, another ad, with money enclosed. Five cents. Five lines. It read: "POUKD: At the Peabody Annex on Thurs. the 12th inst. a likeness of a pupil in the eighth grade Maury, which can be had on application to L. S,, and A.B., 8th grade Maury." T/e began to figure that this A. B. was our first subscriber and that L. E. was her chum. But there was some mystery about it. We could not get positive identification. Other pupils said they did'nt know. At any rate our business boomed. some influence was at work. Our circulation jumped faster than we expected; came from all directions, and soon was more than 300. But we never increased our advertising rates. That one cent a line meaiit just that, whether the line was in agate, very small type, Or type an inch high. newspapers today would have hard sledding on that policy, jtiiijqDc But we didn't; things got better some small all the time.. And then we received Bct^jdbx printing jobs, wnich jingled a little extra cash into what might have been called our only exchequer for those were hard days, full-grown men receiving^a dollar a day, when they could get work. Just to let our readers know that it was no simple job for 4 STAI^T aoant two boys, with ^tltKl^^ experience, to publish our little paper, we printed this: "This issue contains 5,000 pieces of type metal which loxx have not only to be set up, but handled the seuond time wheu distributed. Our press being small only one page of The Bagle is printed at a time#" On January 4, 1B90, we came out with a larger paper, double-column and twice the size of the original. The type facing now was two and three-quarters inches wide by four inches long; the sheet size was three and one-half inches wide by four and three-quarters inches long. This size m.ade it much more difficult to handle. As before, we could print only one page at a time, V/e were short of enough type for two pages, so wnile one page was being printed, we set as much type as we had, then had to wait till the other page came off the press, and distribute the type before we could finish setting the next page. lii one issue as we were hurriedly ]&s±^ mald.ng up the last page, for it was getting late that Si Saturday aft.ernoon, we "pied" the type intended for a space two inches and a quarter deep. That is, we dropped it or otnerwise messed it up, repeatedly. To save time, we printed four lines in black type: "The article ±sA. intended for this space pied five times and we are tired fooling with it." l!7e left the rest of the space vacant. Ko apologies. Talk about independence! In another issue, we gave an account of a fire in a home close by our place. The story took up the first column of the first page and near its close was added: "The fire was caused by a lighted cigarette being thrown 5 STAHT on a bed." In the afternoon the son of the owner of the house came to as in a dither; "lily dad says someone got some news aoout Hx^tzs our fire and that it was caused by a cigarette. He says you mustn't print that. It isn't true." "li^ell, the first page has gone to press. Tj^ll your dad we'll make a correction. so, on our last page we printed: "Since our first page went to press we have learned that the fire in Ko. 20 8th Street was caused by a defective flue and not by a lighted cigarette as stated." That was one advantage of printing pages separately. Print anything you wanted on the first page; deny it fft the last page. We two were the eaitors, reporters, editorial writers, janitors, newsboys and subsorlptionx oollectors. we worked Friday afternoons and late nights, and started la early Saturday mornings. when we got out the last 6C±±±±blk issue we had to distribute more than 300 copies. That took a lot of sprinting. Walker Baoson, another schoolmate, helped us with the deliveries. We paid him ten cents a week that is for trotting around for one hour distriiibuting our papers and he thought it was fun at that . It was not long bea.ore kbxk we were receiving numerous compliments, and many letters. And baskets of fruit, some of which m suspected came from A. B. or L. E., our first advertisers we also suspected them of being very efficient propagandists for 6 START us. We received from time to time, invitations like this: "lliss is giving a party neat Saturday evening and would oe pleased if you would send a reporter," Of course a reporter went. Two reporters. The two editors. The wxxOle staff. Times wQr ^^ North Cape was 800 miles in a direct line from where Andree had been seen last through the telescopes* From there, around Spitsbergen and across the North Atlantic to Sweden about 1,000 miles* Doo Watson threw a clipping over to me: "What do you think of that? It looks crazy to me* Pretty fast balloon. What about the currents? What about the ioe? 60 look it up. Looks like you can get a good mail story b A. p. out of that. Make some nloe money." Enoyolopedlas and gaseteera showed that it vyoald be Impossible for the ualloon to drift that distance, even if it had clear water. It was the season of loose ice and floes. If the balloon had come down in the ice it would have oeen ground to pieces. My epeoalative story, holding that it xKxidt was too early to expect any word from Andree, was printed in fourteen papers. With it I sent a yarn on the Klondike (xOld Hush and also one aoout a big college boat race coming off on the Hudson River. I netted more than $150 for that day's work on Doc Watson's suggestion. lilot a trace of the Andree expedition, or a single indestructible buoy, ot stamped piece of wreckage, ever has been founds In a book I wrote twelve years later, I concluded that Andree and nis companions had oeen forced down by accumulations of snow on their balloon and blown backward; also that their bodies probably would ue found on the Greenland ice-cap or on some other ioe-oovered land of the Polar sea. Auout eighteen years after publication of the book, the oodies of Andree, Strindberg and Fraenkel were found on Szxz Franz josef Land. The ualloon wicker oar was intaot, although battered; but the balloon fabric was torn to shreds* On June 30, 1900, the terrible Hoboken fire started, and the office assigned me to cover it for the night story. Three ships of the North German Lloyd Line and the big docks were afire. When I arrived the vessels had been shoved out into the middle of the Hudson River to prevent further spread of the conflagration. Most of the crews of the Main and Bremen had escaped; other sailors had jumped into the river. Nearly ^11 of them were rescued by 9 A. P. small boats and they ware landing the dripping man at the shore. Bat on the Saale there were more than a hundred passengers in the third cabin or steerage, who were trapped below decks. The fire was over them, and all around them. The steps and all passageways to the upper decide were aflame. There was no escape. The portholes were too small for adults to squeeze through. From the doclcs ve^j^ could see heads poked through the portholes, then withdrawn. Then a child's nead, but the oody was too large and was drawn back. "Oet water aud food," a tugboat captain yelled. "Get all you can. I'll tow this barge out. Those people are trapped. We at least can get them food and water." By this time several priests and xuinisters had arrived. We all got aboard the tugboat aud pulled out alongside the saale. Smoke was pouring from the ship's portholes. Flames were flashing inside the ship. Heart-rending shrieks came from inside. we passed in water and food. Fireboats uame and turned great streams on the saal^. In moments, when no face appeared at a porthole, a splash of water was thrown in, but the volume was so small it had no effect. The hose could not oe turned full at the porthole as the force of the water would have killed anyone there. A woman appeared at one porthole: "Please shoot us I please shoot " A curl of flame shot up around the woman and she dropped back, screaming. A man appeared at another porthole. He spoke calmly. "It will oe meroiful for you to suoot us. Ho one can 10 A. p. get oat. They're all Darning to death, a horrible death." We didn't need to be told that, for the ghastly oriee and shrieks of the women and ohlldren, and the dying groans of the doomed oould oe heard only too plainly. A child nas shoved through a porthole. she vras almost too large, bat they dragged her throagh, tearing her clothes and her shoulders terribly, bat she was saved* one or two other little children were orought throa^« They were sent ashore in small boats The priests and ministers passed ap and down, giving the trapped passengers sach little comfort as they coald. Presently all was quiet inside the ship. Ho one was alive. The tagboat tm± the retarned to dock with the barge. All throagh the day and night the fireboats poured tons of water on the red-hot Saale . The kkx]e next day they had subdued the flames sufficiently to cool off a part of the upper deck to enable them to go aboard with their hoselines* They heard a tapping, at the top of an escape flue from the boiler-room* A heavy piece of metal pinned the top of the hatch down. The firemen pried it off and opened the hatch. ^ ^ i i Thsee men were there, one above the other. They had been in that red-hot spot for twenty- four hours or more. The first man was brought out, blind; his eyes burned out. The second was Speechless, his tongue swollen and paralyzed. The third man was in fair condition, as he had been t»tx«'agtiiaiTYl«Tri aaDd£giy farther below the terrific heat than the others. The fire lasted about three days. Altogether 145 persons lost their lives, most of them burned to death, a score or more drowned after jumping overboard from the Saale and the other ships. 1 c c n A. p. Ho mora norrible fire has oooarred in Hew York. it has bean my lot in this businaBS to hava witnassed a murdar, a suicida, a hanging, an elactrooation, man Icillad in war, and yictims of othar tragedias, bat no story in my Isan evar nas as terrible and ghastly as the Hobokan fire. I raoaived a bonus of |50 for my viork; bat, if I had my OiiOiae, I would not cover aaothar similar story for any amoant . ( WIID DAYS OP JOURBALISK "wait a minute. Don*t hang up your coat and hat until you see if you've been fired. Look in your letterboxl" Bramwell Davis speaking. We were just entering the city room of the Hew York American for our regular st^nt as copy-readers, nhen he suggested this precaution. So, ne looked in our letter boxes, for in those days the American hired men fast and fired them fast, and the victim's discharge notice usually was found in his letter box nhen he came in. That was in February, 1901, the wildest days in New York Journalism. Every paper was fighting every other paper, and there were far more papers compared with the population than there are today. The morning payazx papers, ranked in power and iniluence about in this order: the Hew York Herald, the New York sun, the New York world, the New York Tribune, the New York Times, the New York American, the New York Press, the wall street journal, the the Advertiser, journal of wommerce ,and the commercial. The evening papers in similar order were: The Evening san, the world, the journal, the Telegram, the Globe and the Post* Seventeen papers for a population then of 3,500,000 until Frank A. Munsey came along, bought up papers and killed them overnight. Whatever was Munsey' s idea in destroying newspapers never has been made quite clear; but it followed somewhat the pattern of the German raiders in world War One "sunk without a 2 ffllD DAYS powerful traoel'' He sank papers made great by such gKSXt. joarnallste as Jamas GrOrdon Bennett, Charles A. Dana, Horace Greeley and Joseph Palltser. Compared with those oatstandlng pablishers, men of ▼Islon and real ability, Mansey's reoord fades almost into obscurity* He left |3&,000,000 to armless Yenuses and I'amoas paintings in the Metropolitan Maseum of Art, but little love in the hearts of the newspaper £raternity# There was at least one man that Munsey and uls millions could not down* That was William Randolph Hearst* Hearst had entered Hew York with an idea that "raised merry hell" in the newspaper field* it was that since capable newspaper men must have a fair background in intelligence, education and knowledge, they snould oe paid accordingly, instead of the small salaries they were receiring* He started raising salaries, not very much at first but it was a uealthy beginning. He had many other startling ideas* In and out of the business he was Tilified as a yellow Journalist, ignorant of the newspaper business, the playboy of a wealthy man with millions to play with. But Hearst was an organiser, and he could write. I am told that today every editorial that appears in his papers signed "William Randolph Hearst" is actually written by him. And he is eiguty-four years old* Hearst believed in surrounding nimeelf with men big and able in the business* His top man was Samuel Chamberlain, regarded by many of his competitors as the most brilliant newspaper executive in Hew York at the time. And he had also, Richard Parrelly, Heroert Randall, Charles Edwin Russell, and Fred A. Sldridge, as managing editors with something around |20,000 salaries each three or four managing editors at a time* Charles Sutherland, ( c a WILD DAYS the night editor, the man who pats the paper to bed with his eye on every page, every headline, every illustration, every column, to oheok Just before it is shoved into the press, ran sam Chamberlain a stiff raoe for all-round effiolency, speed and good nature* Charles A. Mlohelson, Charlie or "The sphinx" as some of as called him, also in the fat salary class, occupied a sombre little desk in a nook where you barely oould see him. He was in always quiet, never barged^on even the humblest with a criticism that hurt, but was ready with his help when asked. we never heard him utter a harsh Judgment of anyone or ever saw him with a grouch. He was the kind of unpretentious person that everyone genuinely President liked. Who has not heard of Charlie Mlohelson, Franklin D, Roosevelt's gnost writer? Charlie Sutherland was aoout the only man who would flatly tell Hearst, on occasion, that he could not have what he wanted* Many a time, just as the paper was going to press, when every minute counted, Hearst would walk up and dowia the battery of tracks looking over the pages in type. If displeased with the appearance of a page, he would order; "Charlie, I don't like this. Change itl** "Ko, not now, Mr* Hearst^/ //Wait till next edition. Gotta make press time* After that you can have anything you want; but not now; I've only a few minutes, and we gotta catcn the trains*" Sutherland, by this time, would be far down among the page forms, out of reach of Hearst's voice. Hearst would take a page proof and spread it on the floor at the three-step entrance to the composing room* sitting on the steps he would scrape his , , 4 WIID DAYS feet over the proof, oomplalnlng all the while: ' ''/Charlie, I don't like this. I don't like this." Sutherland ?ioald pay no attention to him, but ivoald send the tracks rolling along the floor, two, three, four at a time and as fast as the men dared push them. When the last form was oat of the way, Sutherland would tarn to Hearst with a smile, "Now, Mr. Hearst, we'll fix it up any way you want for the next edition*" nearst)[>woald stop frowning. And he and Sutherland would walk away and go downstairs to "fix things up." Very often, when they got downstairs, they made no change at all in that particular page. Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer, owner of the world, and^^ Chester Lord, of the moraing Sun, were raiding one another's staffs every day. Hearst would lure away one or two of Pulitzer's men with the offer of more money. Pulitzer would get them back, at more money. The Sun would get them, at not much more money. Then Hearst would complete the circuit with still more money. Arthur Brisbane, one of the most prolific of writers, was on the sun. sk Hearst got him by a few thousands more pay. Lord got him back, at more thousands. Then Hearst got him for keeps. salaries surely were going up. The same good fortune for reporters and copy- readers. Frank A. Jones, one of the orass collars of the American, who iiad a bit of Hearst's confidence, told ma the following story of Homer Davenport, the i'amoas cartoonist, "Homer worked on a railroad somewhere out west and between times was trying to become an artist. One day he was 6 WILD DAYS sisBtchlng an elephant at a olrcas, when a man stopped and looked at the cLranlng. " 'I'll giye five dollars for that piotare,' " *Why, it Isnt worth that. Yoa can have it.' " »0h no, I want to pay for it. I want to send it to a friend of mine** "Davenport sold him the aketoh. The man sent it to Hearst with the comment: *I want yoa to have tnis sketch, for it is a true sketch of the most remarkable elephant in the world* The elephant has only one ear* At least that's all I can see, aud this sketch is a true one-— so far as I can see** "Hearst kept the sketch, sent for Davenport, and pat nim through a coarse of cartooning. In a saort time Davenport became famoas with his oartoons of Mark Hanna having dollar marks all over him* HOmer was now ap in the oig money* "Brisbane one day told HOmer that the American was losing money, and that Hearst wanted to see all nis top men the next day at two oclock to redaoe salaries. Homer was the first one in the room ready for the meeting* Hearst entered . Homer greeted him with: " *Hello, Bill* Gee, I'm sorry to hear of the toagh luck Yoa know me, Bill* I*m ready to do anytning to help oat.» " 'What are yoa talking about. Homer?' Hearst asked* " 'Why, Brisbane here tells us that the American is losing money* Yoa can count on me* I'll take a cut; go back to where I started* But first, I'd i±s± like to know what Brisbane and the rest will do.' " 'Why, Homer, we're not losing money* We're making 6 WILD DAYS more money than we ever made — -» " *0h, well, if that's true Bill, how ajoat j^txax giving me a little more— 'Bay about five tnousand more?' " 'Sure Homer • Glad to do it. We can stand that. is that all?* Hearst asked of the others. No one else asked for a r^ise, as Davenport's quick action had left them speechless. The meeting was over immediately— and Homer was the only one that got a raise." Hearst employed a psychology that didn't set any toowell with Ms staff at the start. He kept everyone on his toes. Sxa Frequently on some one else's toes. He shifted men regardless, without the siiiiftees having the slightest suspicion of what was coming in the next twenty- four hours. More than once the city editor came in to find his desk moved to auother spot and a new city editor in harness. And so on dowu through the staff. That's what Bram Davis meant when he told me to look into the letter box to see if I still had a job. The night before we had fourteen men on the copy desk, enouga to get out two papers. so Bram tex had suspicions that a bombshell would drop sooner or later. About two weeks later, when I had ueeri on the paper six weeks, seven of us received notices that our sarviwes were no longer required. I went down the Jersey uoast where my folks were for the summer. I was there three wnen President William McKinley /• was assassinated in Buffalo. shot September 6, dying b days later. I received the following telegram: "Come in to see me. Richard Parrelly." Parrelly was one of the Hearst editors who seldom mingled with his subordinates. so his telegram was a big surprise. When I went in to see nim, he greeted me cordially. 7 WIID DAYS "Sit dovDn. HOW long had you oeen vforking on the American? " he asked. "About Bix weeks*" "Want to go to work here again?" "Yes sirl I like it herel" "All right, oome in and start to work tonight. what salary were you getting?" "Thirty- five dollars a week." "well, you'll get forty- five dollars a week. with the headline prizes you snould ue aole to make more. Is that all right?" "I think that's fine. But, Mr. Farrelly, you see I have been paid two weeks in advance, so I could look for another job. I have been out of the office only three days and am a week and a half pay ahead. They oai^ deduct that from my wages." "Oh, no they won't. someone else discharged you and paid yott. That's their affair. I*m hiring you again. Go to work tonight, and your salary will start right with tonight. And, listen son, you'll never be fired again as long as I'm on this paper." Things vvorked out nicely for me, as Farrelly said. I won some of the headline prizes which put my earnings up quite a bit. Then Paul Marr, who was starting a news and ieature service called the Hearst Service, came to me one night and asked: "Can you write s**ort stories?" "Never tried it." "well, give it a try. Think up some incident, maybe some news story you've handled. Think what people would say or ( B WILD DAYS do in the oircumstancas. I must have a story by Saturday, about 3,000 or 4,000 words* Cent a nord« I*in aeklDg two or three others. Always dumb enough to try anything onoe, I hopped Ou the job the next day, my day off, I woriced on a little incident that really had happened when I was on the Wasnington Times years before, the story of a little negro copy-chaser who brought aooat a pretty romance. I called it "Midnight's Queen", turned in the copy to Marr the next day, and he accepted it, paying $35 for the yarn. X Almost as much for a day's delightful experiment as I was getting for a week's grind on the copy desk. Marr's service was building up nicely. I sold him snort story after story, receiving aiiywhere from |E5 to |60. Ily second was "Jimmia," a true story of a little west Indian messenger on a newspaper. It was a tear-jerker. Then came "Beatrice Flake," a love story. It surely was terrible, but it sold for top price. "The smx Fass-o'-Melfort* 8 Grew" was a swashibuckling, near mutiny-in-a-hurrioane , Charles Laughton type of tale that I had picked up along the water front. "The Burglar's New leaf" was told to me by a cop in the old Tombs Prison. But, "Mabel takes the wheel," was the thrillingest thing a race down river rapids between two rival sida-paddle stdamboats* Mabel was a timid, shrinking violet, nt of course very beautiful, and the heroine of the yarn. But when the pilot of the Black Hawk tried to manoeuver his ship against Mabel's sturdy Sally Ann, Mabel jumped to the wheel, smashed off the Black Hawk's port paddlewheel and won the race, and of course fell right into the arms of the son of the wealthy owner of the steamship line. 9 WIID DAYS Love stories seemed to hit uest of all, good love stories, or bad love stories. "what Mary Did" was one that told of the many wild and reokless things I'ary did in her moronic craving for admiration and adventare. Of coarse, she, too, was beautiful, bat no shrinid.ng violet Mabel. If I had incladed all the tnlngs that Mary did before her grea^t flame, her escapades woald have tarned forever Amber into a sickly drab, and blown Margaret Mitchell herself along witn the wind. After we finally got rid of Mary, we tarned oat "The coqaette's Romance," and quite a few more mushy, me; slashy things, because Marr told^ "Keep it up; the readers like that sort of tripe." on the American^ About that time ocourred^one of the most amazing and anexplainablo blunders in journalism, on a paper when everyone was on his toes and immediate discharge was the penalty for even a moderate mistake or stupidity. Early in the evening of May 8, 1902, W8 received a bulletin: "volcano on MtPelee, Martinique, in eruption. Thousands believed lost." The heaa of the copy desk, Charlie Tipton (a fictitious name for tnis story) was as v^apable a man as ever headed a desk in New York. Besides the usual local material, he handled the telegraph and also the cable, assisted by hiK-xacajgy the copy-reader at his right who merely sorted out the reports. "Here's a oulletin Thousands losti" the copy-reader told Charlie, pushing over the oulletin. Charlie looked at the oulletin and said: "Wait until atiOther bulletin." "Ten thousand believed killed at Mtpeleel" 10 7/ILD DAYS Another bulletin: "Several villages wiped out. people on deoks of ships burned to death oy lava. Estimate 30,000 lost." "This is a nellava story Charlie. Thirty tnoasand deadl Better tell 'em to clear off front page and a big make-over." Charlie read the bulletin carefully. Looked at it hard for a minute or two. Ordinarily the w^iole Office would have been in a turmoil, various reporters running to the "morgue" for all the ijaformation they could get on Mtpelee, the people, and other material. Pictures and a Dig layout. But no, Charlie quietly took the bulletins, whipped together about ten inches of type, and wrote a three column head and sent the story to the composing room. Then the copy-reader did an unethical tiding, went over Charlie's head, and told Sutherland: "Thirty t*^ousand people killed by MtPelee voloanD blowing apl" "My Gawd I Where's t:he stuff?" "Gone upstairs." Sutherland jumped out of nis chair like he had oeen sitting on a volcanft. Ran upstairs, with hardly five minutes before press time. But in lightning strokes he cleared off enough of the front page to get in what was in type. And the American went to press first edition witn hardly more than half a column of type, and a three-column head. a11 the other papers had columns and columns and pictures galore, for their editors had had the wnole evening to prepare, while Sutherland had only a few minutes before the inexorable pres^'^ime would catch up with him. By this time the waole office was in an uproar, Eiitors ir )^ 11 ^ WILD DAYS A. were scooting around whipping pages together for the next edition. And the fiual run oame out with a fair coverage for enough Associated Press reports had^ come in to malce a pretty complete story. Then the wnole staff expected a volcano in the office. Hearst, Sutherland, Randall and one or two others were grouped, discussing the blunder one of the worst in journalism. "I can't understand that getting past Tipton. He's the best desk man in town," one of the a^oup said. "How could it get past him, especially wnen it was put up to ^im time a^id again?" "Only this, the man has too mucn to watch local, telegraph and cable " •^Too much for any one man no matter how good he is," came another comment. "flhat shall we do about it?" Then oajne a nigher voice that souaded like Hearst's: "Rearrange your desk; that's too much to pile on one man. What '11 we do auout it Kothingi" And nothing was done about itl Soon after that Frederick B . Taintor, mana^.ing editor of the Globe sent ior me and started me on a series of stories of the "Little Llayors of Kew York," mostly little politicians who kept the voters of their districts in line for election. The most interesting of these was au interview with Tom Lee, Liayor of Chinatown, while the torig wars were on. One evening after our paper had gone to press, I was talking with Carl Downey about Ghinatown and its tong feuds. Carl had done considerable criminoll)gy work ±h and research in California. 4 i..J fl ■ -••ri C n I T ■ 13 HID DAYS "HOW would yoa like to see the real Chinatown, not the tourist spots, but the real stuff?" he asked. "Pine; but how can it oe arranged?" "1*11 take you up. I know some people up there who will take Us where none of the sightseeing people ever get," Off we went, up the BOwery. we turned into a side street and entered the back entrance of a big corner saloon. we ascended to a large sitting room on the sswOnd floor. It was auout half past six oclock, and there were only two men in the room. Both were young, well dressed and quiet in manner, Carl left me at a table and presently came back with the better-dressed men of the two. "This is Billy Smith,* he said. "He* 11 take us around." (Billy Smith also is a name fictitious for the purpose of this story.) We left the place and went farther up the street to the BOwery Music Hall. It was one of taose old-time places with forty or fifty tables, a gallery and a stage on which cavorted busty chorus girls. We ordered beer. A large man came up and tapped Smith on the s^^oulder. They walked away a short distance. "well, you can guess what he said," Smith remarked when he returned. "He asked me not to pall anything here now*" Oar next stop was a little saloon, tougher than the first. The room was about fifteen feet wide and perhaps fifty feet long. It had a oar on one side at the front. At the rear of the room were a few tables at which half a dozen tough ±BGkis& ladies-in-waiting were sipping beer, and looking at us, regarding us as possible customers. Smith went to the oartender, talked with him a minute and returned to us. 14 WILD DAIS '( "This way," he motioned. "Be carefal. It»s pretty dark;,^ We turned down a flight of steps into a cellar. Then crossed the rough floor of two cellars, and started up again, ■Don't be surprised at anything you see," Smith warned. "But there's no danger. They all know me." We went up one flight, then across a floor, and up four mora flights. As we came to the top of the stairs. Smith leading, we were met by a big Chinese, with arms folded and hands up his sleeves. "Billy Smith," he said. "Glad to see you. You make yourself at home. These your xriends? That's all right." We were now at the center of a floor of what resembled an old-time bathing aouse. An aisle led straight across the floor from where we stood. Two other aisles crossed this center aisle, forming a letter H. Along these aisles were small rooms, or booths for opium smokers. in all there were perhaps a hundred of these tiny booths. Right in front of us, in a small pagoda window were displayed for sale a few Chinese trinkets, lychee nuts, jars of choy sauce, preserved ginger, sandals, glass ornaments, and jade or imitation jewelry in pieces and sets. A Chinese sat in the pagoda, mute, hands up his sleeves. At the entrance to each of the long aisles stood a Chinese. Their hands were up their sleeves, too. "You smoke?" the first Chinese asked almost in a whisper. "Ho; but we want to go into one of the rooms where someone is cooking his pill. "Oh, yes. You know down there in 16. You know him. you 15 WIID DAYS see him some tlmesbefora. He always there this time, you kooii. He glad to see yoa. Yoa go see." Smith tapped the door of No* 16. "Come m," a oheery voice uade us* As we entered a man about fifty-five rose from a small cot aud smang his feet to the floor. He held an opium pipe In one hand. Its stem was eighteen Inches long. The bowl, close to one end, jutted at rlgnt angles. "HOW are you Billy? Haven't seen you for some time." "Howdy Prank. How you feeling? These are friends of mine •" "I'm fine Billy. Want a smoke? Would you like to smoke?" he asked me. He was a well-spoken man, night clerk in a store somewhere along Park Row, Billy told me later. "What's It like," I asked. "Well, It's like when you go home in the evening, tired out. YOU sit down before a fire while waiting for dinner, you doze off, have soothing dreams. That is, if you don't smoke too much. I smoke only one pill a night. Wnen I wake up in about ka±x half an hour, that's aoout as long as the opium has Its effect on me— I feel refreshed and go to my job in good shape. I've been coming here for sixteen years, every night at the same time, seven oclock. Always this room. Always tuis pipe. want to try a pill?" "What's it taste Ilka?" "Well, I call it a faint sweet sxakK taste. Other people say they can't taste it at all. Here, I'll cook you a new pill. Then yoa can take a puff or two." 16 WIID DAYS He took some dark brown stuff from a box on a taboarette in front of him a^d rolled it Into a pill the size of a jelly bean. He oooked It over a lamp and then pat It in the bowl, puffed a oouple of times to get it going right. He handed me the pipe and I took two or three puffs. So far as I could tell it was like smoking any other pipe* It did have a very faint sweet taste. t. After three or four more pugfs, I told him: "I can't feel any effects." "Oh, you have to smoke some little time before you begin to feel it. Theu the doze comes on you gradually." "3)06 8 opium-smoking finally make you an addict?" "With some people, yes, because they take too much, have wonderful dreams, then come back for more. They get to the point where nothing will break their ^raving, like alcoholics. It's soothing to me, and restful. it's what you might call my only luxury. I take my pill, then doze off. Next, I*m a millionaire, riding down to the opera, listening to grand music, and I hear it, or dream I do. Or, I think of a good old-time fishing party, and I*m hauling in red-snappers, grey-snappers, sea bass and weakfish. When I wake up, I think I'm a lot oetter off than many a millionaire whO goes broke and then blows his brains out. I'm not broke, Billy, you know that." He fished oat of xiis pocket a deposit book of the Seamans Savings Bank. Billy scanned it. "Pretty nice, Frank; you don't need to worry." "I've everything arranged for wnen I go. I've already bought a cemetery plot for-^SS* and paid for my funeral and burial in advance- Our undertaker friend will take care of us. There's 17 WIID DAYS a place there for yoa yoa haven't any relatives either bat yoa must make me one promiae-— " "What's that, PnanJc?" "That you'll keep your hands out of my pockets wnen they put us to sleep for the last time." The two of them had a good laugh. The iiaport of it passed entirely over my head. ffe left Prank to finish his pill, and trailed out. As we were walking along Mott street, Downey said: "I didn't tell you before because you might have got a bit uervoas. Those men standing guard in the aielas and in the booth in the opium den are all tong garmen and aatchet men, and tops in the tong wars* Each one, right now, has two guns up his sleeves. They have to be on guard all the time. Tong men from outlying towns tong men unknown to their rivals here— sometimes take rooms in the den. Instead of smoking they wait for a signal. Then they jump out and if they can trap or kill the guards, they rob the wuole place, strip the addicts and get away. You never can tell when or where a tong war will start. Now, we'll go to a real gambling den." We walked down into the tunnel to Doyers street a tunnel where two On Leongs stood guard on one side of a dividing line and two Hep Sings on the otiier side, to see that no rival tong gambler passed into the other territory. Many a battle had been fought in that tunnel. Down twisted DOyers Street a bit, we entered a dark passageway where a single Chinese guard stood. Billy Smith and he seemed to be good friends, and we were allowed to pass and climb lb WILD MYS some more flights of stairs, Wq were met, at an open door, by another Chinese i«ho shook hands with Smith and motioned as into the room, closed and oolted the door. The room ivas auoat forty feet square, windowless and had only the one door. A large table stood in the oenter, and eight or ten chairs aroand it, with a few more off at one sidewall* The room had ao xkuc revealing or suspicioas features, except one. Up in the angle made by the ceiling and oae wall, a board surface extended out from the wall auout four leet, auout eight feet from the floor. Another board surface extended from this first flat board up to the ceiling, mailing a sort of flue or wind tunnel up in the angle. This was all painted wiiite , like the walls. It looked only like seme queer construction of the building. "Kerens where they play most of their big fantan games," Smith told as* "And they are oig games, all right. They play loo and others, bat fantan is as popular with them as poker with as." "HOW can they get away in a raid?" Billy Smith made a swift movement along one side of the wall. I could not see that he touched anything on the table, the wall, or the floor, as he was moving all the time. Suddenly, the front of the odd construction on the wall opened ap and backward. Our Chinese friend vaulted onto the table, ap into the wide flue, slid across it and disappeared as the door or front dropped back into place. "That lets uim out into a hidden passageway by which he can get to any of the many fire escapes, or back into one of the tenements, and get a block away from nere in hardly more than seconds," Smith said. ISnWIlD DAYS A few minutes later we heard a tap at the door. Smith unbolted it and our Chinese iriend came in smiling: "YOU want to try it? it's fan. slippery boards; you slide over like ice. You want to try it?" we decided we'd Detter walk down. So back iato twisted DOyers Street we went, and then down the liOwery. After we had thanked Billy Smith and said goodbye, I asked Carl Downey: ''Who is this Billy Smith? He looks like a business man. He is soft-spoken and intelligent. Is he is business?" "Yes, sort of business," Carl replied with a grin. "He's worth considerable money. I'd say he is quite a successful business man, for he has twenty men working for nim. Billy Smith is King of the PiolqDOcketsl" ) Tm 13^, Llayor of Chinatown ^3,000 on his head W. p. BCAZCLL, PnmoKNT D. M. COWARDS, PrSSIDKNT C. J. HAOLCY, PRCSIDCNT W. A. DAVENPORT, PRCSIOCNT ROBERT LEE LEWIS, Chairman of the Board The ScbRPioN Club ORGANIZED ON THE BORDER , 19I6 • A MAYOR WITH $Z>,000 OK HIS HhlAD Tom Lee, Llayor of Chinatown I Sitting relaxed in a big old wooden rocking chair, in the baok of his little cigar store in Llott Street, Tom Lee looked as if he didn't have a care in the world. Picturesque, bent with his eixty-odd years and none-too-rugged health, he rocked to and fro in a haze of cigar smoke and the unmistakeable odor of yen-shee, or burnt opium. He puffed leisurely at a thin roll of tobacco wnich he held with the peculiar grip so common among the Chinese between the thumb and forefinger, the palm of the hand upward. If there was any sense of fear, or even anxiety, in his heart or mind, none of the lines pencilling his insorut|^ble face revealed it. Head of the powerful On Leong Tong, he well knew that at any moment he might oe the target for a fusillade of bullets from some member of the Hep Sing Tong, his strongest rival, or from one of the Chins or the Lees, four tongs or societies being in existence at that time. Bullets might come from tenement roofs, from a running rival in the street, through his back windows, or the front. Kor did Tom Lee seem at all disturbed by his full knowledge that a reward of #3,000 awaited the man who sent a bullet into a vital spot of his body. But one young reporter who had obtained the unusual privilege of interviewing him "downstairs," was not so placid, not so calm, mentally or physically. For, all around us were nearly a dozen LS3 2 stalwarts of the On Leoag bodyguard gunmen whose reputations for speed and acouraoy were nigh in the circles of the warring Chinese tongs, and hatchet men who, with a comparatively small type of razor-edged weapon, were surprisingly adept at hacld.ng a man to death with a few lightning strokes. Grim, confident, they looked like stoics all, insensible to pleasure, pain or fear. Some sat cross-legged on tables to th-e left of me, arms up their vside sleeves and each hand gripping a large-calidre revolver. Others on the opposite side of the store, hulked big over the counter in tense pose of expectancy, or sat upright in chairs with their eyes fixed on the front door. Stolidly alert. And across the street, /V slow-slithering merchants came out of their stores, arms up their sleeves, strolled a bit and returned inside, while others replaced them; two or three were coustantly along the curbstone covertly watching Tom Lee's xront door and all street approaches. A lone watcher, leaned over a window sill in a tenement above. He glanced about casually like an ordinary busybody. He had guns up his sleeves. Two young detectives had been sent up in back of me, and one loitered about the front door; the other across the way. Whenever Tom Lee came "downstairs" and it was many, many weekes between euch trips it was a critical moment in the days of the tong wars. i^or if word got around to the Hep Sings, the Ghitis or the Lees, it was about a uundred-to-one gamble that a single gunman or a ^roup would come whirling through Mott Street, taking pot shots and hoping one would get to Tom Lee. In my own timidity, all thought of making a diplomatic or strategic approach to a fine interview, had disappeared, and I blurted out questions regard^less: - IV 3 LSjS "Tom, how does it teel to have a price of v^3 , 000 oii your head?" Surprisingly he took no offense. He smiled grimly: "I just Gome downstairs now for first tiijie. I 'fraid to go out of house till suootin' over." iifhile the tong wars had been intermittent in Eew YorJc for nearly tviio deoades, they were now, as the 1900s were starting, enjoying a respite • Chinatown was serene for a time. And an unwritten law had made the Chinese Theatre a neutral ground for years; a safe place where members of all tongs could go, enjoy the performances and leave the neighborhood without molestation. But, one clear night, a shot was fired in the theatre. Both On Leongs and Mep Sings were killed and wounded. And another w.ave of warfare was on, with an individual assassination here and there and fusillades b± from groups as they suurried down the street, shooting on the run. It was three or four days after the theatre tragedy that my city editor said casually: "Gro up and get a talk with Tom Lee, Llayor of Chinatown, and see what he says about all this new shooting this shooting in the theatre where they've never fought before." Just as if he was sending me out on a one-alarm fire. Up at police headquarters to obtain some idea aat of what really was ahead of me, the old timers there said it was more difficult to get an intervikew with Tom lee at such times than an audience with the President of the United States. Tom Lee was surrounded, not by velvet-handed assistants or red tape, but by trails of red olood, last-shooting gunmen and hatchet men with n 61 4 ---LiSJS wonderful skill. It was common talk at headquarters that up to that time only four white men were known ever to have beeu permitted to enter Tom Lee's little cig^r store at Ko« 4 kott Street. These ±ew were Captain John Eggers, whose command to a^y Chinese to come to see him at onoe was law; and Detectives J. ff. Murray, William C, Eaipilton, and Daniel Costigan. They had tree and undisputed entree to any of the dens that were supposed to be tight as arums. They knew the yellow man and his ways, and how to treat them in all circumstances. They had the a.r lend ship of almost every man in Chinatown because they were feared and yet did not take advantage of that fact. "So you want to see Tom Lee?" the headquaeters men asked. "Well, first you've got to see Lee Loy, the Mayor's secretary, who's been with iiim for twelve years. He's mighty hard to get to because he's with the old man at all times and if there's any shooting at the Mayor, Lee Loy will surely be right in the mess. V^hen these battles are on, Tom Lee never comes downstairs; maybe Lee Loy will stay right up there with lAm so long as there is this shooting. He may not come down; but go talk to Dan Costigan; maybe he can fix you up to see Lee Loy." Dan Costigan did. I never had met him before, but he always was agreeable to helping newsmen, the boys told me. Dan Costigan explained just what to do. And Lee Loy undoubtedly had full GOtifidence in the detective, for the very mention of Dan Costigan 's name to the guard at the store door sent that oodyguard off at once and upstairs. Lee Loy came down iirmediately . He signalled me to enter, and we went off into an obscure corner, out 5 LSii: of range of the x'ront door. lee Loy knew Tom Lee's every mood, desire and fear if Tom Lee had any fear. With speed, but courtesy, he put me through a very short cross-examination as to my specific wants, glanciug occasionally at the front door. Then he said: "You come tomorrow; same time." Obviously Lee Loy had no intention of remaining down in the store longer than necessary, for word might get around that he was "downstairs." He was wanted by the enemy tongs almost as much as Tom Lee. He was a very important key in the general situation. "They'd kill me, too, I guess, if they ever oould get a gun on me first," he told me. Kext day, at the appointed hour, I walked into Tom Lee's little cigar store, after quick scrutiny by the door-guard and a mysterious signal of approval xrom somewaere within. Tom Lee was there already, in his rocking-chair, far back in the gloom. Lee Loy was beside nim. Lee gave me a friendly smile, a warm handshake, and introduced me to the Ivlayor. Tom Lee stuck out a small hand with a weak pump-handle wiggle, as he looked me over studiously and viithout a word. Sv^idently the message of caution had been spread among the faithful that Tom Lee was "downstairs" and that every care must be taken against the fact becoming known and trouble start. And that's why his faithful were on guard around him in the store, on the sidewalks in front, and even from upper windows of the tenement across the way. Tom Lee was hard to read and hard to interview, altuough he was not in the least antagonistic. His difficulty probably was 6 LS2 due to the laot that in his years of seclusion he had not had much opportunity lor conversations in iilnglish. For a "no" he gave a Bmile, sometimes; a blanlc stare when he perhaps thought the question a bit too personal, pertinent, or revealing. He had a remarlcable face. A fascinating face. One that held yoa. It was typically Chinese iu shape, but his eyes proclaimed nim a man far out of the ordinary. They were set, not slanting, but straight across the face, and far very far — - apart. His gaze at first, while he was making his own appraisal of me, was strangely analytical and penetrating. When questioning shifted, there was a downward glance that faded into mystery and left me as uninformed as before. 3ut, withal, there was a glint in his eyes, and a slight upturn to the corners of his mouth that suggested latent mirth perhaps gentleness perhaps icindliness. He wore a drooping mustache and a goatee, both of which were very thin. He definitely did not look like or act like a man who was hounded by killers and jutxxaxxMi. surrounded by killers of his own. There was nothing fearsome about his face. On the wnole, it seemed more like that of a sage, not a savage. The Mayor wore the regulation garb of his native land, although it was of better quality tnan that of his followers, for he was a wealthy man. The customary black trousers, wide and silky, flapped about his legs. Black sandals, embroidered and of artistic design, were on his feet. A shirt of fine brown material completed his costume. His getup was given a slightly dainty appearance by a pale blue xtazzi silk undergarment that peeped up from under the neckband of his shirt. ?rom a breast pocket dangled a heavy gold chain, with some emblem as a fob. His hands, which ''loqqo 1 7 LSi were small and smooth, bore no jewelry save a heavy seal ring, a present from a countryman years ago. Tom Lee's attitude toward me was kindly, open and without suspicion. But at time^he seemed to oe inwardly amused at some of the questions from a young reporter who had had less thc,n half the experience Tom Lee had had with the world, and with men, good and bad. He was patient; never abrupt or indicating displeasure at my attempts to fathom him or his life. Almost at the outset, I asked: "Tom, who is the richest maii iu Chinatown?" He inhaled a few puffs from his stic/: of tobacco, and replied slowly, with labored pronunciation: "That's pretty hard question." "Are you?" Only a smile for reply. "They say you are a millionaire; is that so?" I "I work hard when^boy. txot nuff so don't have to work now. Take it easy. Hot rich." "Where did you otsne trom — -what part of China?" "I come America/ when I boy. ^ -'US b Liilji "He hasn't the slightest idea," Lee Loy interposed. "L'either have I. He's been upstairs for a long time. tie don't know the reason for the scooting, whether it was started by one of our men or by one of the Keps, the Lees, or the Chins, or why. Oar members and the Keps always have kept the theatre as safe, neutral ground. This is the first time a sxiot ever was fired in the theatre, or a fight started." While we were at this point, I asked him the question how it felt to have a price on nis head. "I bin siok," he responded very slowly. "All tnis snootin' make me not so well. I juet come downstairs now for first time. These other men Highbinders, like snakes, shoot vou in baok. I 'fraid to go out of nouse till snOotin' over I''' Questions then were directed to leading the mayor along into his nistory and the history of the tong wars and "Why should you have these tong wars anyway?" The llayor brieied the ..igh spots of his life with rather broken sentences, but with an efiort at clarity. Lee Loy interpreted them into easy sequence, put in finishing touches, making a fairly well-roanded story. Later, the detectives gave me ammplifi cat ions of great value the facts behind the inscrutable Chinese as the police actually knew them. Tom Lee landed first in San Francisco; then went to Portland, Oregon. while there he learned that men in Tennessee were building a railroad but could not get sufficient labor. Tom Lee gathered 400 coolies and moved in. After that job, he opened a tea store in StLouis; then went to the Centennial iCxposition in Philadelphia where he had a large exhioit of teas and spices. And on to l^Tew York at the close of the Centennial. He opened a merchandise -10. 1 « U y Lliljl store at Ho. 2 Mott Street, then the little cigar store next door, at Ko« 4. This latter he maintained all through the years, even after he added three other more imposing places, stores and restaurants. He organized the On Leong Tong of Kew York, and it soon grew to 1,500 membership. His society was composed of laundrymen mostly, with a few merchants owning establishments within a fifty-mile radius of the city. The object of the society was declared to be for the promotion of its members in a business and social way. That was the Chinese version; but tie police translation was that the On Leongs were interested very largely in men of their own raoe who had money to risk in gambling ventures and there were thousands in the area. • ilven so, the On Leongs could see no impropriety in their doing a little gambling when the newspapers carried frequent accounts of Dick Ganfield's gambling palace, and the large sums, as nigh as ,^200,000, lost there by wealthy men in a single night. At any rate, whetever its true business, the On Leongs flourished. On Saturdays and Sundays members trooped in from Kew Jersey, Long Island, Oonnecticut and other places. Host of them went uome poorer, pernaps wiser; a few richer. The On Leongs had a smooth path for years. There were no polios raids; and no interference. Then came the Hep Sing Tong, "for the suppression of gambling," and claiming to be a reform society. It was headed by Jim Wang, a keen, highly-intelligent graduate of Northwestern University, who brought nis membership quickly to 1,200. He was the brains of his organization. Stern vi/ith men of his own race but friendly and courteous with those of the white race, he had 10 LiSj; a commanding appearance, and the reputation of being a shrewd business man. And he was equally v^ell- guarded. Kis top gunman was Lock Duck, a name that spelled terror in Chinatown. ixock Duck was called the Dulldog of the Hep Sings. Short, powerful, he had the speed of a panther and the cunning of a fox. Police gave him the reputation of oeing auout the swiftest man with a gun that ever came to Hew York. He was a terrible foe of the On Leongs; fearless, ruthless. The Hep Sings wauted to stop gambling yes, that was true, but in the minds of the police they wanted to stop gambling mainly in the places controlled by the On Leongs. The Hep Sings opened more than a shooting war. They started laundries and merchant stores near places run by the On Leongs. They cut prices. Intense hatred for one another grew up among members of the two societies who previously had been good friends. And one day, while a member of the An ^oon Company, one of the On Leong concerns, was on his way downtown, he was shot and killed by one of the Hep Sing men. A few months af^er this, BijOther On Leong was hacked to pieces in Kewark by a Hep Sing hatchet man. The murderer kx escaped to California, but the On Leongs trailed him there and killed him a few months later. Ah Pee an On Leong, had had trouble with another group. He was snot and killed by Suey Sing, who pleaded guilty and was sent to prison for life. Other shootings followed. Most of the On Leongs were centered in Ilott Street; the Hep sings in Pell Street. If there was any demarcation in territories, it was Llott for the one and Pell for the other. And, running from one street to the other, under all the buildings. 11 13:3 was a narrow, dimly lighted tunnel. 3y the tong code, it was a sort ot no-man's land. At the middle of the tunnel a white line on the floor marked the dividing line Hep Sings to the Korth, On Leongs to the aouth. On Leongs vvith guns up their sleeves stood on their side of the line; Hep Sings, similarly armed, on the other side. Oertain persons were foroiddeu to cross into either territory; if they did a shooting was sure to st^r.rt. ^imong all the gunmen, the name of LiOck Duck was the most feared. One afternoon, walking down Pell Street, Mook Duck came faoe to face with five On Leongs together coming toward him. Both factions started shooting immediately. Llock Duck, single-handed, advanced boldly and straight toward the five, shooting slowly, deliberately. ^^id the five neared Doyers Street, four of them who had emptied th-.ir guns hurriedly fled. One of them was wounded. The fifth continued firing until his gua went out of commission, and then ran up Doyers Street • Llock Duck darted to the corner of Doyers, halted, fired at the running man, and killed niiii instantly, ilock Duck was put on trial three times, but each time the jury disagreed. From about that tir.ie there was only an occasional shooting. Chinatown lived a suort while in peace. On an liaster Sunday, unusually large numbers of Chinese came into the city and neaded for Chinatown. The police knew wny. Games of fantan and loo and all the others on the card were in operation with hundreds of players. It was a gala day for the gamblers. when things were at their height, the police swooped down on them and carried off scores of prisoners. The men were all turned out when their oases were taken to court, but the raids stirred up disaffection in the 12 LZS ranks of the On Leonge. A large group of their members, follov^ing the raids, uroke away and started the Ghin family or Company. A few weeks later there was another split, and the Lee Family or Company was formed. These two societies vi/ould not affiliate with the Kep Sings, nor would they combine their interests, but they made it plain that they vjere deadly enemies of the parent On Leongs. Som-etning was happening among all the four tongs, and not long after these splits came t^ie battle in the theatre and the beginning of the end of the widespread troubles. On an unusually beautiful week-end, thousands caine to Chinatown for auother gala time. As night irell the village blossomed out in all its gay, shining and font i aBttti a llap»^ The streets ^ere full of strollers. Sreat festoons of paper lanterns swayed in the night breeze across the balconies of the tenements whose first, second and third floors were large restaurants. Of predominating red, yellow and green, and round-bellied, they ranged from tiny gay orbs to ornate creations as large as two feet in diameter. In these places, single-stringed violins squeaked their strident notes. Tinny player-pianos hammered so loudly they could be heard a block away. All to attract the sightseers who now were flocking down by bus from uptown. Along the sidewalks, imposing stores displayed the finest in silk apparel, gorgeous kimonos, dainty handkerchiefs, scarfs and such things. ^'ood stpres , with dehydrated chicken, pork, beef and fish hanging in the open air; and Chinese cabbage, guy cnoy, water chestnuts, bamboo snoots, choy sauce and other ingredients for those who fell for the smiling: "You lik-ee 13 LIS J] make sxf. chop suey some time, eh?" And one-man cubbyholes v^ith trinkets suoh as Cuina elephants, sets of the three monkeys, cards, straw sandals, puzzles, and the best-seller of all their souvenirs, the oack-suratcher , a small ivory monkey hand on a long stick. In the doorways of almost every store hung large lanterns with their strings of glass peudants tinkling in the changing air currents. Sombre-garbed merchants, hands up sleeves and Si^oulders pinched forward, looked at passersby questioningly as possible customers, but said nothing to lure them in. It was an unusually gay, crowded and profitable night. And up Mott btreet a bit, men from Pell Street, from Doyers, £rom Uott and from darker byways of Chinatown trailed into the Chinese Theatre. They were members of the Onfieongs, of the Chins, the Lees and the Hep Sings, all possible d^&d. enemies, but the theatre was their haven of safety, a neutral ground. There would be no shooting no fighting that had been the code and the understanding fi)r years. The various tong men shuffled into the playhouse and took seats in their customary manner perched on the backs of the benches with their feet on the seats. Hats on their heads. With stoical faces they seemed neither to approve ax disapprove the performance of the actors, or the "music" or whatever that strange. few moments, as actors pirouetted or sprang. Continually, high-pitched, sing-song came from female impersonators youths with face, figure and costume all artistically made up in remarkable deception. nor Chinese cymbals clanged every All was at a lively tempo when a shot cracked. Tong men » 14 L33 jumped from the benches at a signal and began firing. 22veryone in the audience was shooting at someone. The actors ran screaming ITom the stage. Groups in the street yelled for the police; street strollers were in a panic as the wounded rah from the theatre When the smoke faded away and the police had cleared the place, three On Leongs and one Hep Sing, lay mortally .^ounded on the floor. A score or more were badly wounded and stumialing around in the theatre while others crumpled up on the sidewalJc. ^ibulanoes clanged up the street and carted the wounded to the hospitals. And another period of battles and assassination followed Immediately, with the On Leongs and the Hep Sings still the major enemies; the Chins and the Lees avowedly against their parent On Leongs, but in doubtful antagonism to the Hep Sings. But the tong groups were dwindling. a11 of their members, naturally, were neither gunmen nor hatchet men. They were mostly laundrymen, and these with other types of merchants, now with Kew Yoric City expanding greatly in all Atngytw directions, ceased fighting and squabbling, and established themselves in businesses of their own in all parts of the city in restaurants of high order and stores that are now in many communities, cleaa and keen competitors of long-established chains. Heretofore the Chinese restaurant usually catering to the late night crowds, theatregoers, newspaper men, actors, stragglers, and wanderers was EXjxkK eschewed ^enaxiyziqc generally by the public; but now splendid plaoas in every section, in the suburus and nearby towns, were becoming popular and prosperous. The hitherto tong men found it much more pleasant, peaceful and profitable to be in a business J 16 LilE that permitted them to wallc the streets freely, or to be serving chicken chow main, subgum chop suey, yat ko mein, egg foo young, bird's nest soup and other atK±±KX± delicacies, instead of doling out or dodging bullets. And the terrible tong wars soon became hardly more than a memory. That v^3,000 head price dangled over Tom Lee for something like a generation, but even so he went to his grave at a ripe old age from natural causes not bullets and reputedly worth more than half a million dollars. As a pleasant sequel to the interview, oue of the detectives told me that Tom Lee was generous to all those about Lim. "'.Vhile at times nis life has been sought almost every minute of the uay, aud he has been shot at many tiuies, we have no knowledge or even belief that he ever took a life himself." which seemed to fit nicely iuto what I had read in that unusual face, and the slight upturn to the corrers of his mouth perhaps gentleness perhaps kindness the face of a sage, not a savage. f r 1. "IIY MEN CAK DO ANYTHIKGt" "Get out of this office and don't c<»ne back until you get that interview witJa Rhinelander Waldo." "YOU know Commissioner Waldo never has been quoted. It can't be done — "My boy, it can be done. My men can do anything, now, get out I" "Bat there's a standing order at police headquarters against quoting the commissioner," I persisted. "Don't pay any attention to standing orders Get outl" Frank Pierson, city editor of the Kew york Herald, was not in very good humor that day; at least, not after luncheon. It was one of tnose days on wnich he had let appetite and good digestion wait on each other too long. And both appetite and digestion were somewnat whimsical and called for t^^ings not served on plates or platters. Pierson was a temperamental cuss, delightfully unpredictable. He was not one of those fictional city editors so often pictured on the screen as a wild, noisy blatherskite. He didn't swear at his men; he didn't rave and tear his beautiful blonde pompadour; he didn't even thrown tnings. His most violent exhibitions of displeasure were confined to nervously flicking away tiny speuks of ashes that he had carelessly let fall on his well-ordered, spotless desk. Frank Pierson was wholly capable; one of the finest city 2 PIERS ON editors that ever came to New York. He knew his business from top to bottom. He knew his men; he had great confidence in every one of his staff, and gave the men more co^ifidence in themselves. And we knew aim. whenever he approached and said: "My boy, I want to see yoa,** we well knew he would make us dance when he got as on the carpet. He was a strict disciplinarian, but he never called us to account unless he had a clear case. He would berate us quietly but stlngi^^ and then go down Brain Alley and boast to the executive committee that he had the finest staff in the city. Frequently, after a man had been lectured severely and was sitting at his desk stewing over the reproof, h» would walk past and hand him a story that meant space and would pay mighty well for the rebuke. There was something about the irascible man that made men like to worK for nim; made them loyal. He believed in his men, believed they could get anything he sent them after. He was tutor as well as doss. He got results, nitie times out of ten; on the tenth, if a man worked intelligently, thoroughly and hard, and yet failed, Piersou would compliment ij.im just the same. He knew that other reporters on the same tip would surely ^ail, too. And they did. But Pierson didn't know much about the newer ins and outs of police neaaquarters . He only knew that any time he telephoned down for somatning, he got it pronto. Skxbk±^ SO, a little ■i^j^i* a. thing like dragging an interview out of an adamant commissioner was a mere trifle. It was scheduled on the daily news sheet, like any routine story among the scores that were happening within a radius of a hundred miles from Kew York, 3 PISRSON When I arrived at police headquarters at the noar set for the commissioner's daily conferenoe with the regular head- quarters reporters, it was something of a hit of news to those men. A general staff man coming to Headquarters usually meant that he had some special yarn or had to develop the routine along some special line* "What's up?" Charlie Hastings asked. He had covered headquarters for years and knew all the ropes and angles. "Gotta get an interview with the Commish," I replied. "What a chancel What a c nance I Don't that city editor of yours know the commish won't give any interviews. Standing orders against it. Your city editor ought to know better. Is he asleep?** • "Kot ^rank Pierson. He never sleeps. He thinks we can get anything he sends us alter." "well, he's guessed wrong this time. However* it's almost four now. You might as well ST»ick around and get a turndown from the commish himself.** Five minutes later the regulars went in and circled around Commissioner Waldo. I edged into the ring. Questions ranged from trifles to matters of department policy. I made a few notes nere and there. Wnen the conference was over, I lagged behind, and asked the commissioner if I might quote him on the various subjects, or elaborate on one. "NO," was his firm but polite response. It's out of the question.** He eased me from the room. Half an hour later I stood oefore Prank Pierson. 4 PIERSON "The oommissioner refused-—" "Get out, and don't oome back until you get that interviwn with the oonnnlssioner," he xairly shouted. I got* Baok at headquarters, braving the Jibes of the regulars, I explained my errand, and got another laugh. And anotner refusal from the Gommissioner , and returned to the office. in the city editor's room, BV glanced up, read failure on my face^ Switched around in his chair, and looked daggers at me. I thought he might start throwing things. He xairly screamed: "If you Haven't got it, get out. Get out I And stay out until you get that interview with Rhlnelander Waldol" something had gone wrong in the office and Pierson was in worse mood than ever. so, out I went again to heaaquarters • The commissioner consented to see me once more. As I entered his office a new approach suddenly flashed through my mind. The commissioner smiled, and asked: "Well, what is it now?" "Mr. Gommissioner," I said, "May I ask you not for quotation or publication when your term of off ice is up?" "V/hy, certainly. In about a year and a ualf, if I don't get removed in the meantime. But why do you ask?" "liYell, I see about a year and a half's vacation coming to me with pay." "HOW'S that?" "YOU see, llr. commissioner, I've been kicked out of my Office twice now because you nxSjc won't give me an interview. The last time, the city editor just ordered me to get that interview with Rhinelander rfaldo. He didn't say Gommissioner 5 PIS ^ SON Waldo. And to stay out of the office until I got an interview with Waldo. See? He didn't say commissioner Waldo. How, how about promising me the very first interview after you get out of office, or are removed? you'll still de Rhinelander waldo. 1*11 be obeying orders to the letter, I '11, have my interview with Rhinelander waldo. And I'll have had a nice vaeationl" The commissioner chuckled. "DO they do tnings that way up there?" "well* there's a pretty w^ell- founded story they often tell; that one man received a cablegram from James Gordon Bennett suspending him for ten years. The man went into business and was suooessiul. On the aate of the expiration of his suspension he walked into the Herald office, hung up his hat and sat down at a desk. He waited a while, then ..ent up to the day city editor and asked for an assignment. The dditor asked who he was, and the man told him he'd been on the paper many years, and Si^owed Bennett's cablegram suspending him. The situation was reported to Bennett, who recalled the incident and cabled back of course the man was on the paper, been on the paper for years. But the suspended man said he had been forced into a iiice business and he was nappy. He just wanted to report back for work to keep up the jqsi± spirit of the old paper." "Well," the commissioner commented, "That didn't turn out as bad as it sounded. Mayoe you could start a business, too." "KO, Mr. Commissioner. I don't want to go into business; this is my business. I'll s-cick around until I get that interview if I have to wait a year and a half and I'll still be on the paper. Please tell me why it is that you will not permit an 6 PIER SON interview just to satisfy my curiosity." "Simplest of reasons. The very first day I was in office I was misquoted, very badly misquoted . It caused me a lot of trouble. Since that day there nas oeeu a standing order that I must never be quoted." i ^ "Well, Mr. commissioner, Itn's there a solution just as simple as your reason. Will you let me prepare an interview from the notes I have made and submit it to you. If you like it, you can OK it. If you don^t like it, you can tear it up right in front of me, and throw it in the waste oasket." "Why, that sounds reasonable. And my interview will be Just as I OK it, not changed a Dit?" "Not changed one vsatL word; I'll promise that." "Go ahead. prepare it and oriug it up to the Rita- Carlton this evening, about 7.30. I have an engagement, but I'll be glad to give you sufficient time." "Thank you, Mr. Commissioner. That's great. 1*11 be there." "Seven- thirty sure," he said. He snook my hand and let me out the door. Back at the office, I went in by the rear entrance to avoid Pierson. Minutes were precious. If I told aim what had transpired, he probably would have asked questions and get my mind off the skeleton of the interview I had formed on my way in. I finished two pages and laid them on my desk beside me. Pierson saw me beating the typewriter, came over, took a glance at the copy lying there. "My boy, I knew you'd get it," he said, patting me 7 PISRSOK on the shouldar, and walked away. Up at the Ritz-Carlton the cominissioner saw me immediately. Took the interview and started reading it as he stood. in a few seconds he sat on the sofa and read leisurely, "Fine," he said when he had finished. "Better than I could do myself. I'll not only OK it, I'll put my signature to it." He took out his fountain pen and wrote at the bottom of the copy, in bold hand: "Rhine lander Waldo." Pierson made it first page. In a brief introduction by the editor, he called attention to the fact that it was the first and only autx^orized interview ever given by Commissioner Waldo. At the end of the interview, appeared a reproduction of the commissioner's signature. Qat I didn't get that year and a half vacation. BEAU 3RIMELS OP TIE PRi^S3 Herb Swope was what we always called him. And, similarly for sxiort, Sawin G. Hill was Ed. Hill or jast Ed. Herb generally signed his name "Herbert Bayard Swope" with a wide and artistic flourish. He was not exactly handsome, but had good features and a ready smile that soon broke down resistance. His red hair seemed to be a maze of electric contacts with his brain and activating a tsksl vocabulary with the impulses of 10,000 a minute, or second, or something. Herb was six feet tall, as trim and lithe as a top athlete, even though he'd leit his thirtieth milestone some distance back. When in a hurry and he always was he moved with the lope and surge of a panther. Well-dressed was Herb. Perfectly tailored clothes. Fifth Avenue cut. Pelt hat from the best house. Gane very important cane. Gloves very bright ^I'^ves. next to Edwin C. Hill, I tnought Herb the best tailored man in the newspaper fraternity. But there was a characteristic difference between the two men, Ed. Hill wore perfectly tailored clothes, too; a black velour hat, dark brown gloves, and a cane. The cane and gloves drew the distinguishing lines between Herb and Ed. Ed. carried his cane, just carried it. It was merely an adjunct, an appurtenance. His gloves were the color most men 8 HEHB wore. But Herb wore his cane, always swiaging on his arm. It was as much a part of his raiment and his personality as his shoes or his Siiirt or his red hair. Aad Herb's gloves, beautiful gloves, very expensive gloves, were the jrightest yaller chamois gloves ever seen on Broadway. Always so clean and oright. He must have had two dozen pair. And so yellowl yyhen he came breezing down Broadway, you could see his yellow gloves as far away as you could see a yellow taxicab. Herb had just that modicum ot flash and dash that Broadway liked. Just enough to distiuguish a topper along the big street. And Broadway and the V^hite Lights were Herb's stamping ground. That was his "district," where he got most of his good stories, or tips on stories. He, ocoasionally, wrote a story. But J*B»- often he would wiggle out of the real vjork by telephoning the tip to the office and having someone else go get the yarn. Ed. riill had a touch of the conventional that maae aim look as if ha nad just come from a uoard of directors meeting. Always easy and suave in manner. Even wnen pepped up in argument there still was that warmth in his voice. in the two score years I»ve known Sd. he hasn't changed a bit. Years ago, when he was ace reporter of The Sun, ne talked with that same smooth voice Of charm you hear when he is on the radio today. It is not a stage voice, not an affected one. It is natural. On the big stories of those days, it was the custom of reporters to gather at a focal point for the news. In a g,roup, evaluating the situation. Anywhere from six to ten or more would be there. Kew York then had twice as many newspapers as it has today. And in that group surely would be soma, or many, of the 3 HaRB top reporters men like iffalter Davenport, now of Collier's, we always ualled him "Bill"; Irwin Cobb, then on the .Vorld; •.Villiam P. Beazell, another "Bill;" Hamilton Peltz, Sam Fisher, joa 0*Eeill, Frank O'LIalley, Heywood Broun, ilmer Davis, Lindsay Denison, Damon Runyon, westbrook Pegler, Thoraaa oronyn, F. Sugene Ackerman, ilarl Decker, Joseph A. Fitzgerald, Thomas 3. Hanly, John ,V. Harrington, Don Llartin, tValter l.iiller, J .3 .S .Richardson , "Sandy"; John Russell, S. Richard Schayer, "Dick;" Frank Parker Stockbridge, Victor Talley, Harvey F. Thew, George ll. Van slyke , Stanley yValker, Swope or Hill. I.Iany of those names today are familiar to the reading public, to magazine readers, or to movie goers. While our e;roup would be discussing, along would come 3d. Hill. In an easy stroll, dragging his cane. Up to the group. His usual provjedure was to slow down to a stop with a "Hello Fellers." He'd hang his cane ou his arm and proceed to tap a cigarette, as he listened intently to the rest of us. 7/hen a lull came, 3 i • would ease into the conversation, and it v\ould be only a few minutes before we all were listening to nim. Uot because we had to; just because we liked to hear him. HQ never butted in. He never shoved into the discussion unceremoniously. Hero Swope, on the other hand, usually splashed right into the center of the group, like a wildcat dropping from a tree. His dynamic nervousness compelled us to listen, at once. He talked rapidly, often dominating the discussion. Kot wilfully, but just because he couldn't help it. He was simply a pleasing, walking and talking turmoil. But, of one tning you may be sure, Hero always knew what he was talking about, and was a real asset 4 HERB in the development of a story. And, to his credit, he nevjr tried to talk anyone down. Even in the midst of a perfect analysis ne had, he often would stop instantly if anyone else had a thought that might fit iuto his viewpoint, or even cross-cut it. Herb was a persistent and aggressive digger for news until he got lazy. Herb loved to play poker, like the rest of us, or most of us. He was a great poker-playing pal of the theu city editor and big man of the New York Herald, Leo L. Redding. The two were in a game vary frequently with Captain Thomas Churchill and °'*^her police captains and m lieutenants, at Churchill's famous restaurant on Broadway. Hero didn't like to work especially ou trifles. He did outstanding jobs when you chained aim down. But he had myriads of artifices for escape, amusingly clever ways to evade work, particularly if he wanted to play poker. His powerful stock alibi was, "Gotta see Redding right away." It was difficult to catch him unawares. He was so cunning at it we simply had to let him escape. I think tnq all rather admired and condoned the good-natured miscreant for the way he out-m.anoeuvered us. Every night the day city editor turned over his long schedule of stories to the night city editor. Katurally it took some time, usually ten or fifteen minutes for the two in conference, heads close together over the big sheet. Ho attention Paid to what was transpiring in other parts of the big room. Herd used his perfect f ornr,, f or evasion every night. He would appear at the main door of the city room at just four or five minutes past si x oclock, after all the night assignments. b JEHB night work, had bean given out. He would halt, and squint around to see if the two heaus were together at the aight desk. If so, he would slither noiselessly to his letterbox. Always fussing with his yellow gloves. '»Ve never quite figured if he was taj^king them off to go to work or putting them on to go away from vvork; it usually was to go away from work. He would get out of that door like a shadow. But One night he didn't. A story had come in by standard Mews, a rather dramatic etdtts^ of a whole family of fireworks workers caught in a sudden explosion^ In their home. While they were at dinner. I had it in my hand, v*^aiting. With half aa eye Oii the letter-oox. Hero slid in, and was almost out of the door again. "Herb I Gome here. Here's a good story "Oh, dammit, I can't. I g,otta get up Broadway. Big news dat^I" Everyone grinned; just the same old poker-game alibi. "Come right herei" I called. "Hell and damnation, I ca n^. I gotta get up and meet Redding, right away." "Let Redding wait I You coiue and write story'." "You'll get hell from Reddingl" he snouted, back. "O.K., but come here. You can write this yarn in half the time you are fussing auout it. Come on. Get to workl" He shuffxed over. stopped at his desk just long enough to remove his yellow gloves and place them with his cane carefully on his desk. "Gimme the damn thing I" He snatched the copy out of my hand, tearing the flimsy a bit. Grumbling, ae went back to his 6 HSHB desk. Kicked a chair into position. Sat down. Slammed his typewrite* desk open. Read the story for half a minute. Calmed dowr^;l»:^a/i'ead again. Turning, he ualled: "Hey I This is a helluva good story." "O.K. GO ahead. Ko sloppy stuff. You know hovv to write it. Give us one of your fine first page stories give it that old masterful Herb Swope touchj" "O.K.," Herb returned with an affable grin. Herb, like most of us, appreciated a little flattery once in a while for flattery in a newspaper office is about as rare as a snowball on Satan's breakfast table. In Less than fifteen minutes , Herb finished his story. about 700 words. He kicked back his chair with a racket. Slammed down his desic top. Came over: "Here's your damned old yarn. See if you like itl" Herb stood for the reading. Stood still actually for five miriutes, a record for aim. Stood patiently, another record. Didn't say a word, a rec^lly remarkable record I If you knew Herb Swope. "It's a oracker- jack. Herb I Swelll A regular Herb Swope yarnl" He whirled away. Grabbed his cane and gloves, and disappeared down Brain Alley, fussily putting on his yellow gloves. About half-past nine. Redding walked leisurely into his room, picked up the early proofs and looked them over. Holding a proof in his hand he came to his door and called me, »Vhen I entered, he was sittiiig, waving a proof. "Here's a fine story, this fireworks yarn. schedule 7 R3HB it first page. 7/ho wrote it?" "Herb Swopel" "Herb Svjope?" he alinost snouted, incredulous. "A good story like that. I can't believe it. Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure. Standard Eews stuff. I gave it to Herb to rewrite I" Redding slapped the proof down Ou his desk. Pushing back his chair, he exploded: "lliraclel So Herb Swope wrote a story I Jill you tell me how in hell you uan get that lazy so-and-so to worK to write anything? I can't and I pay his salaryl" 0 DISCIPLIUS 1:0 R3SESCTSR OP PSRSOUS copy boys were an important adjunct to a newspaper in the earlier days. Probably they are just as necessary today. They MXaHBiij were employed to ran errands for the various editors, as the nig-ht city editor's post was the ousiest spot in the entire institution of a morning paper, four or five boys iis± usually sat on a bench directly back of that editor, ready to jump in any direction in a flash. It was rather difficult to keep a full complement of the boys because of the night work. Boo Dill was night city editor, and I was his assistant. Our staff of ooys had dropped to three, and of these Bob complained that they often held back and waited for Seorge to do it. In came two new boys. One was a red-haired, boy, rather tall for his age. Seventeen, and with a face that denoted a definiteness of character even in his youth. "What's your name?" Bob asked. "Jimmy, sir." "'rfhera do you come from?" "Hell's Kitchen, sir," he replied irankly. Hell's Kitchen was One of the toughest sections of llew York City at that time. Thieves, murderers, hold-up men, dope addicts almost all kinds of evil men lurked there among thousands of hard-working decent people. Naturally BoD visioned trouble or rebellion by this lad on the slightest pretext. However, the ooy 2 DISCIPLIITS was neatly dressed in his rather shabby clothes. Ilis hair was nicely combed, and his face i fresh-looking, as if a proud mother had taken pains with rAm, "Where did you work before?" Bob asked. "I've never worked uefore, sir," "DO you know what you have to do?" "Yes, sir, lly mother told me." Jimmy replied vjith calm respeot . "iVhat did she tell you?" "Obey orders. Do what I'm told, do it at once, do it tne best I can or get fired. she said it would be good training and I need it." Bob was taken aback at sucn frankness. He smiled kindly a^^d said: "All right, Jimmy. You do just that, and we'll get along beautifully, and maybe I'll make yoa captain of the Doys." "Thank you, sir." Jimmy replied as he took a pla^e on the bench. Jimmy was an excellent boy. Ran his errands promptly, speedily. l^ever grumbl:.d or appeared tired no matter how fast the pressure. About a fortnight after Jimmy arrived. Boo had an important rush message for the ousiness office, "Take this down to the ousiness office as quick as you can," he told Jimmy. "Gome z±^±xjucsx right back. Don't stop for anything or anybody." Jimmy rushed down Brain Alley ( as we called the corridor between the various editorial rooms) and went down the wide front marble steps like a streak. He delivered the message, and ran '6 DISCIPLIO back up the steps, two at a time. At the top na threw open the k heavy oak door just as James G^ordon Bennett, ovuVier of the paper, came to the door on the other side. Bennett was knocked flat. Jimmy didn't hesitate a second. ne didn't even turn his head with a fleeting "I'm sorry," but sprintad on into the city room and reported. I'o sooner had he sat than Bennett entered in a hurry, and somewuat ruffled. ''Boy, what do you meau by knocking me down?" Jimmy stood up. "I'm vary sorry, sir. I don't know Wx^o you are, but my orders ware to get down to the ousiness office and Dack as quick as I could, and not stop for anybody or anytning " "lly Gawd," Bennett exclaimed, "I wish I could get everyone working like that Hero's tea dollars for youl" SPYIliG OUT AVIATIOK H'O'R TILS IffCRLD Seldom have the discoverers of a great scientific fact or principle, or great inventors, been reluctant to announce their success and prove it to the vvorld. Seldom, after making their public claims, have they been discounted, called lalcers and promoters, and driven into hiding for three years. Seldom has it been necessary for five men to hide in bushes and brake pestered by bugs and snakes for three days and nights, spying on the discoverers, awaiting an opportunity to get definite evidence of the success while the discoverers themselves were maintaining every barrier to prevent the public learning about their achievement. Seldom has a layman, unskilled iu a required art, obtained the one bit 01 indisputable evidence of success while professionals stood around open-mouthed and gaping at their failure. That, in briex, is the story of giving aviation to the world; of oringing into the public li?ht the accomplishment of the •Vright Brothers, Wilbur and Qrville, two boys from Ohio the taking Of the first picture of an airplane in flight which proved to the world that there actually was a machine that could fly. While the ii/right Brotthers were not the actual inventors of the airplane, they were the first men in all the world to lift an airplane from the ^round by its own power and with a person in it. The Chinese had been using gliders for generations. The Wright boys, following unsuccessful efforts of preceding pioneers 2— AVIATIOK like Clement Adler of France, Hiraui Maxim of England and Professor Samuel P» Langley, secretary of the Snithsonian Institution in Washington .around the late IbbOs and the lb90s, started experiments with gliders. Professor Langley beg'in his tests at flying by maicing numerous glider jumps from the hills around x-ort »Vashington, Maryland. Occasionally he would not glide so well and would flop into the Potomac* He, Adler and i.axim experimented about the same time with motors to drive the gliders. They all failed because their machines cracked up so completely they could not determine the oause of their failures from the pieces. While Professor Langl.ey's efforts failed he aroused tremendous interest in flying in this country, and continued his experiments on and off. »Ve boys living in Washington then all thought he was crazy. We laughed at the prophecies of our mothers who way oaok thee told us with amazing certainty that future wars would be fought in the air I And we would recite that very popular poem of the day, "Darius Green and his j^'lying ilachine," wnioh cracked up completely like Professor langley 's. But our mothers would counter with; "Hell, you just wait and seel" And we have seen. With these failures of eminent scientists before them, the Wrights made intensive studies and developed their owu ideas of aerodynamics. They may have got their idea of a motor from Adler, Langley and Llaxim, or maybe not. To be alone and experiment in secret, they went down to one of the most inaccessible spots imaginable. That was at xLill ijevil Hill, three miles oelow Kitty Hawk on one of the long sand dunes that skirt the kak Korth Carolina coast. They built three hangars 3 AVIATIf5H and continued glider experiments. Then they attached a small gasoline mfetor to a glider plane and, on December 17, 1903, lifted the craft from the ground. It went not much farther than one of Baue Ruth's home run hits and not as high, but it was the first time in the world that a heavier- than-air craft ever had left the ground under its own power. Qrville Wright made that flight. Confideat they were approaching the secret of flying, they reuonstructed their craft and took it to Huffman Prairie, eight miles east of Dayton, Ohio. There, on October 23, 1905, the Wrights announced that they had made a flight of more than twenty-four miles, some time before. The plane rose only a few feet off the ground and was shielded from public gaze by a high fence. The Vifrights simply stated that they had made such a flight. The public v. b AVIATIOK "You won't believe it. ^'ive camera men and one shot. ./ell alter that biplane oame so olose to us it was close for less than a minute it started dovyn and landed a short distance away. It was equipped with long skids like the runners of a sleigh sticking out in front, and on these it vms catapulted oft" a frame inside the hangar to start it. The two men on the plane got off, went back to the hangars and returned with trundling wheels. They placed the biplane on these and dragged it back to the hangars and inside." "You must have felt like a lot of dummies." "iVorse than that," Kewton laughed. "We surely did. V/e sat around all the rest of the morning damning ourselves damning ourselves and bellyaching but doing nothing aoout it not a thing auout it, mind you, but cussing our luck. The hangar doors were wide open. <»e could see the Wrights and the mechanics busily tinkering with the motors; but, even at that, it never dawned on us that the machine might come out again and that we certainly should get our cameras ready. "iVe were all still cussing our luck when, just about noon, there was feverish activity about the plane. »e should have known there was a chance of the plane coming out but no we didn't make a move. -tind then, in another few minutes, here she comes shooting out of the hangar and up into the air. We, of course, were all caught off our guard once more. Think of that! We became more excited than on the first hop. I grabbed my kodak and when the biplane came within shooting distance I snapped. SEtac There was hardly more than a minute that the plane was within sight or range, and the other men ran around in circles, oumping into one another, picking up wrong things here, looking for mislaid things ' uo .•je.ri 9 AVIATION there, and dropping tnings. They became so befuddled that not a one got his camera in order before tne biplane faded out of shooting distance. "The biplane seemed to be under perfect control. »Vilbur Iright was driving it, and a mechanic was with him. They went aoout two miles or two and a half, and turned three times. Tnen they dropped to the abound behind one of the dunes. I was the only one who got a picture*" That picture, the first ever talcen of man actually flying, gave aviation to the world. It was the first flight made before any considerable number of men who could prove that the machine actually got off the ground, with men in it, moved under perfeut control, traveled several miles, and made three turns. It opened up aviation, not only in America but in iilurope. Back in 1905 when the iirights announced their flight at Huffman Prairie and the dumb public not only refused to believe them but villified them, there was one man who was not at all sure that the Dayton public was anywhere near right. He was Colonel Charles ff. Knapp, editor of the StLouis Republic. He decided to make his own investigation. Five months later, when the anta-^vonism had died down, he sent Henry J'. Snoods, top reporter on the Republic staff, to Dayton to interview the ^rights, get pictures and so on. Woods did not see the plane or get pictures of it. Kor did he find the ffrights at all receptive to being interviewed. They surrounded themselves and the plane with the greatest secrecy. But Woods tagged their steps for one wnole week, managing to see one or the other for a few minutes each day. By a little diplomacy < -.to 10 AVIATION and persistence he obtained a story that should have oonvibced even the Dayton public that the Wrights were not lakers. 2ventually Orville «Vright gave aim a schedule of the flights made in September and October ^bxsxIhkxI; 1905 at Huffman £iK Prairiew It read: "September &^ 26, 19 06, 11 1-8 miles, time lb. 09, making about 17 complete circles. September 29, 1905, IE miles, time 19.55, making 14 complete circles. September 30, 10 miles, time 17.15. October 3, 15 1-4 miles, 25.05. October 4, 20 3-4 miles, 33.17. October 5, 24 1-5 miles, time 5b. 03." This last was the best flight, the rate of speed approaching forty miles an hour. •Hoods obtained from the rfrights the names of nine men they said had seen the it flights. It was five months later, but Woods found four of them: Henry iVeber, ance in Septemoer 19 06. It was won by Lieutenant Prank S. Lahm, of the Sixth United States Cavalry, and Major Henry B. 1 d tv £ -J 1 J,, u O J" a » a a » U 0 j"' I ill 13) AVIATIGIJ Hershey, of the United States *Veather Bureau, oringing the cup and the trophy to America. And then waen Byron Kewton's photograph of 190b gave positive proof of the liright brothers success, i.r. Bennett took steps to maiiB the WnOle world kxx aware tnat the day of man's flying had arrived. He at once established the (Joupe Internationale ixx d'Aviation. The first racevjas held in^ Hheiras, i'rance, August 2b, 19 09. The iVrights did not enter, but Glenn H. Gurtiss, with a little plane he called the June Bug did. There were only five men in the race; for i^rance, Louis Bleriot, Hubert latham, and iCrnest Lefebvre; for England, H. GocldDurn, and for the United States, Gurtiss. Gurtiss won, flying 20 id.lometers in 16 minutes 50 3-5 seconds auout 12 1-2 miles in 16 minutes, or at an average speed of approximately 45 or 46 miles an hour. Gurtiss brought the ij-ordon Bennett Gup to America. Tne sev^ond contest for the ^iordon Bennett Gup now was set for October 10, 1910, in the United States, to start from Belmont Park, Long Island-, circle the Statue of Liberty, and return to the Park. The distance was loo kilometers, or 62*14 miles. As Byron Hewton ..as the best informed mxa reporter in Kew York aviation Qiroles, we clustered around nim at j:leene's to get his prophecy. He knew ijoth the rfrights well, iYilour as Big Brother and Orville as Little Brother. He knew Gurtiss and all of the men prominent in aviation interests. i/e discussed the comparative speeds of the automobile and the airplane which had not beeu so swift up to that tim.e. Then Kewton suggested: "Why don't you take Betsy, go out there and race the planes in or as far as road conditions will permit. That should be an 12 AVI ATI OK interesting raoe. You will be at a disadvantage because running over a highway that is none too good, while the planes will have clear sailing. If you can keep fairly close under them you will win because of the handicap. Drive out about two miles from the Park to give the airplanes time to get up to their top speed; xmt get a running start with them and see what you cau do. I doubt if these planes can do much better than sixty miles an hour, and you'll have roadway enough to do that for about five or six miles." Out at the Park: were ten competing flyers. As they walked about in their queer suits, headgear and flopping things, they surely looked heroic and like supermen. Por trance there were: A. LeBlanc, Hubert Latham, Auburn and John B. Lloissant ; f or Great Britain, Claude Grahame-iVhite , J. Radley, and A. Ogilvie; for the United States, H » Brookins, J. a. Drexel and u . iC. Hamilton. With Betsy parked a mile or more from the grandstand, we waited for the first contest^' with motor idling. Betsy was young then; hardly a year old. Of sturdy Italian parentage, and speedy. Three other cars came and stopped behind us, apparently all with ±s the idea of racing. The road ahead was too narrow for anyone to try to pass, particularly at speed. In a few minutes came a roar. The first plane was away. In a few more minutes, another plane; then another. Somehow all the cars seemed to be delaying for the same reason, but all had their motors roaring and snapping for a jump. Then came another plane. It was lloissant' s glistening entry. .Ve all suot forward at the same time, and within a few yards were running nearly fifty miles an hour which was pretty fast going forty years ago. W 13 AVIATIOE. life kept right under tnat plane for several miles. As we had to glance up almost vertioally to keep i.loissant in view, no car attempted to pass another* .I'e increased speed and wnirled along until Loissant began to get ahead inch by incix. we'd raced nearly six miles, holding almost straight under ^Am^ when we neard wild screeches of a railroad train. Gates were dropping and a flagman was waving frantically at us. ?fe came to a bunched up stop and Lloissant's plane went on into the west. That's all we saw of that great race, the first airplane race in this country. But we proved that the automobile then was as last, if not much faster, than the plane even with the handicap of running on the g,round. Grahame-i^hite completed the 100 kilometers in 1 hour, 1 minute and 4 seconds, winning the cup with an average speed of just a little better than sixty miles an hour, as Byron Kewton had figured it out and the flight of man through the air was here to stay. ' . lid" cjiii 110 oi-iew ©a*5lq a'J"a.. ^ , ■ . QS S£.. ^ oliocfiicd-ijfi o:i& jaiii' bevonca , .... V, "/C ^ ,^ . 10 J- ■ one evening I walked into the Hew York Herald office twenty minates late, sore over some petty oriticisxn or complaint of the day before. I was then assistant night oity editor* Howard Hillegas, the oity editor, and a grand one, grabbed me as I was entering the ballding. "Get ap to MoLane (George McLane, the news edito^,** as qaick as yoa can — -a grand assignmentl" he said* It the head of the stairs, Owen Oliver, top oopy-reader, caaght me by the arm, pashing me ahead of him. "Jim MoElhone is trying to get the assignment," he warned, "bat you're the right one I" By the "right one" Oliver meant this: I had written and had published in the Sunday edition, August 29, 1909, a full-page prediction that iPeary or cook would oome baok this time with the discovery of the iiorth Pole* "Have Amerioan Explorers Discovered the Horth Pole?" was the eight-column headline. A large map detailed their probable route of return. Cook was head^ from September 1, with a claim to the discovery* peary was heard from September 7, asserting the discovery was his* He added: "Cook is a faker and a liarS" That was all he would say* He would not reply to wireless messages, or add to his statement. someone had to go find Pearyl where? How? The Hew York Herald meant to find him, and tt orders were similar to tuose given Stanley 2 PEARY to "GO find Livingstone." There were no instraotions , and no eaggestions. Just go do itl In MoLane's office, he snoved $400 into my hand. "There's a train oat of Grand Central Station in twenty minates," he said* "Can you oatoh it?" "Yes." "Get up to Hova Sootia. When yoa get to Sydney there'll be all the money yoa want. Go oat and find FearyS" Very simple orders* There nas no time to figure oat hon to follow them* I had to catoh the train. Grabbing the money, I ran all the vay to the Grand Central Station* The train left five minates later* I had had no ohanoe to get saitaole olothing, and nas wearing only summer togs* Just as the train «as pulling out, Roy Howard, of the United Press, now director of the Seripps-Howard newspapers, and Herbert L. Bridgeman, who had financed Peary, swung aboard. On all 9 his previous trips, Peary had been paid sometning around |E0,000 by the Hew York Herald, for his story, but <^n this try he had demanded $3&,000* Bennett refused, and Peary contracted to aell to the How York Times for the |35,000. SO, naturally. It did not look as if I would be received any too favorably by Peary, if I caught up with him. On the way up to Hova Scotia, Roy Howard and I became good friends, and schemed various ways to reach Peary. Bridgeman was cordial and offered suggestions* Between Montreal and Sydney, a fellow traveller told me the Sydney Record always had had placed at its disposal on Peary* s returns, the Canadian Cable Ship Tyrian. He promised to see that the Record took me 3 PBAHY along* Thera noald be no other nevspaper men, just the two Record men and me. I told Howard of my good luck* "Keep mom,** he adylsed* "Don't tell a soal, or all the other men will find some vay to raise hell and get on the Tyrian* That looks great. Yoa*ye got the balge on everyona. I'd like to go with yoa, of ooaree, bat I ooaldn't becaase no one knons how long yoa'll be oat, or where, and I've got to get baok to Hew York and see how my shop is rannlng*" "That's fine, Roy, Bat when I get back I'll give yoa all the dope, or send it to yoa," I promised* When Roy and I walked into the Sydney Hotel, eight or ten others newspaper men were there. Most of them were from Canadian papers, one or two from Boston. We were the only ones from New York. All the others immediately jumped to conclaslons; they were sare the United Press and the Hem York Herald were working together and against the others. Roy sensed that at onoe, and grinned: "Well, let 'em think we're working together. Let's work together. we'll have some fan with those monkeys. I read that prediction of year's and I think yoa know more auoat this north pole staff than all of them pat together." so, we worked together, kept together, evaded the others at every tarn. we acted mysterioasly, and nardly spoke a word to them. They watched as continaally, never letting as get oat of their sight, and spied on as. When we were at oar meals— -we always ate together — -one or two of the "enemy" stood near the entrance to the dining-room with an eye on as. when we tarned in at night— we had adjoining rooms there was always a 4 PBAHY watohfal sentinel in the corridor to see that ire never sneaked oat* They kept gaard all nl^t long* Brery man was trying to charter a boat to get oat on the search for Pe€u:y. They cabled and telegraphed tm to all near-by ports* Ho ships to be had* Captains did not nant to go ap through the Strait o£ Belle Sx±b Isle the "graveyard oi ships*" Too many icebergs* Up to this time, my political xrlend^ had not made the promised arrangements and I began to fear the Sydney Record plan was off* so I strolled along the nater front and heard of a French trailer , with a repatation none too good, that might go oat. It had ^een fired on several times for poaching. Later, I told Roy Howard I might disappear that night. I went down to the doclc just as a stormy rain began. I came to a terrible- looking craft. A worse-looking sentry, in dripping soa^ wester and rabber ooat and ooots, greeted me roaghly: "Whatcha want?" "I waut to see the oaptain* See if he'll take me oat*** "Out where? when?" "Oat to find Peary* Mow*" "Hell, the oaptain don't know where Peary is* Hooody knows—" "Well, we'll go looking for him." "GO looking for him? That sounds crazy to me* There's a awful lot of water out there, and it alnt pretty water either, son* It's a tough night out* Sver done any seain'?" "HO, I've never been to sea." 5 PEARY "What I Hever dona no sealn* an' yoa want to go oat on a night Ilka this. That beats ma. 7or stammik will hava a awfal tlma* This old tab stinks vorse'n a dead nhale, an' nhan she battans donn In a storm like this an' 70a gotta stay inside, yoa*ll find oat what a big stink is. Bat, ef yoa've got th' gats an» yar stommlk's strong, maybe yoa*ll pall throagh* Go aboard Cap*Q Hank*s his name.** I want aboard, floandaring along tha Jamping deck. As I passad tha first hatch, an odTorifaroas blast hit me, that almost took my breath. I walked into the ward room, to face as eyil- Tisaged a crew as ever sailed with Captain Kidd. They looked as if throat-catting and dumping a body overboard were merei^ «fi9;&f:^halr pasttlmes. However, Uaptain Hank greeted me with a reassarlng smile* He oecame interested in my proposal, said he would go anywhere, a>^7^i^9* ^or $350 a day. soon we were pounding oar way out throagh the storm. The seas smashed on as and swirled along the deck. But tha hardy seamen paid no attention to tha rumpus, and I was considerably relieved. About eleven that night, I was sitting in the ward room. Three or four of the orew came in. They looked rather glum and fearsome, bat, as they seated themselves aroand the big table, one of them asked: "You're from the States, alnt you?" "Yes," I replied, with a slight qatver in my voice. "We likes t' see boys from the States* Tell us about th» Hippodrome, and th' Bowery Ma sic Hall, an» Steve Brodie, th» Bridge jMaP^r, an' th' Brooklyn Bridge, an* all them other 6 EEARY plaoes. Cap*Q Hank says he ooaght th* bridge onoe bat he didn*^get no receipt," That eased me oonsiderably* I had been in Steve Brodie's saloon to see ioIb silyer-dollared floor, and the Hippodrome; bat I had not been in many otner places they mentioned* EOvever, I'd read so much aboat them, I regaled them nvlth the most imxkt larid tales I coald spin* They sat aroand open-moathed , lilce a lot of boys, grinning and ohaokling. Two of them left for the "oharoh-yard watoh," midnight to four* The otners sat there antil about two in the morningm when we all turned into our bunks* When daylight oame, the sea was running smoothly* The storm had died down* We had a heaping oreakfast of fresn fried fish, oof foe, hot rolls bigger than your fist, and marmalade. After that Captain Hank said: "son, don't you know th' Tyrian^^s going out Sunday night or Monday morning?" That was something of a shook, as I ti^ought it was top-drawer secret. "HOW do you know?" "One of th* correspondents had some drinks with one of my men* My man oame aboard just before you an' told me* I thought you knew all aoout it, an' was tryin' to get ahead of them " "I was, but this has me gueasing*** "Well, son, I believe it would be oest for us t' put back an' you take th§ Tyrian* we can get back in a few hours in this smooth sea. You see, th' Tyrian knows all th' coasts of Newfoundland, an' Labrador, an' th' Greenland waters* I 7 PEARY don't. I'm Just a fisherman, Th* Roosevelt, Peary's ship, might be haaled ap somevhare an' ne'd go right past the spot* An< If we met th' Roosevelt, she mightn't hove to for as oar repatation's pretty bad. She'd hove to for th' Canadian Government ship. Th' Tyrian sare will get to her I coald gaarantee that. With as, I'll do my oest, but I can't guarantee anything because I don't ]uiow these coasts, especially around Bell Isle. I'll keep on if you say so; but think it over." I thought it over In a hurry. Ten minutes later we were heading oack to Sydney. We dren in alongside an ODScura dock, just as it started raining again. I hustled up a back street, went to a department store, bought some sjoirts and andervear, and walked oack to the hotel. All of the corres- pondents about eighteen now were in the hotel, out of the rain. Roy Howard was at the xront door when I entered. "Gat any clothes?" he asked oasually. The others did not suspect that I had been anywhere but to a store. They did not learn for days that I had oeeu headed for the Newfoundland ooast during the night. My political friend came in then to tell me the situation. "It's all fixed for you to go on the Tyrian. Everything would have been fine for just you three men on the Tyrian, but my friends of the Record were so jubilant that they were the only ones who had a boat that the other men got busy and have been pouring telegrams into the office of the Minister of public works to allow other newspaper men to go aooard." so, Roy Howard's prediction had come true. Apparently all the correspondents now in s ^^^^^ "^'^^^ "^ian. 8 PBARY iihloh had Just docked at North Sydney, ten miles across the bay. It vas now Satarday night. While we were at dinner, nith the sentry's eye on as, Roy had an idea. "non let's have some fa a nith these monkeys," he said with a grin. "Yoa Icnow the last ferry to North Sydney leaves at exactly 7 oolooJc, We*ll jump oat the dining-room window, rash along the porch, and get on that last ferry with seconds to spare, we* 11 drive *em crazy. •» In fall view of the sentry, we sidled over to the side window, climbed oat, then ran noisily down the poron and the front steps. All the other correspondents started milling aroand the notel lobby, then oat onto the front porch to see as sprinting ap towards the center of the town. We doabled back between buildings. Then ran across an open space to the ferry. Those other newsmen, now seeing oar move, piled down the front porch like a pack of bloodhoands, one or two lagging their typewriters, all tearing towards the ferry. ,We leaped onto the ap- lifting gangplank and were on oar way across the bay, while ^^ifteen or sixteen correspondents were left standing in the rain. Gassing and yelling, they saoated for the captain to come back and get them. Bat the little old ^erry kept chagging right along. When we got over to Horth Sydney, Roy and I simply loitered aroand the hotel lobby for a while and then went to bed. In the morning we had a leisarely breakfast, reaa the weekly paper, walked aboat the town a bit, had a mid-day meal and then, with two bottles of good llqaor, went over to see Captain A. A. Dickson, the Tyrian's skipper. 9 PEARY We found Jilm a genial, goo d-na tared man. Qalte axpansl'te, with a narm smile brea]d.ng through his weather-beaten faoe like the sun through a oload. He invited us up to the ward-room. His mate and three or four others of his orew aooompanied him, and he had his cookie serve refreshments* Roy has the most engaging repertoire of any raconteur I ever heard, and nis sprightly and captivating manner in the telling, kept us all in high spirits. I could bang the piano sufficiently to please a few sailors, if they didn^t know much aoout music. we varied our program gradually, and uarried it on toward the foul conspiracy we jm had in minds. When everyone was feeling blithe and gay» we asked: '*Captain Dickson, you've always gone out to meet Peary on his return from these Polar trips?" He said he had* "DO you receive any particular orders, as to Just exactly when you are to leave, or how proceed?** "Well, I*d hardly say yes to that* I*ve been up so often that I know auout where I might pick him up, or where he might put in to lay up for a storm, or too many icebergs* when we get a wireless, I know pretty well how far he might come in the next day or two. As I receive no definite hour for sailing, I guess you'd say they pretty much leave everything up to me 60 when I tLink it the best time*" "On other words, you go just about when you think you might meet him under the most favorable conditions*" "That's aoout it*" "There's no specific order to prevent you from untying 4 I r * • I 10 PEARY and going oat? At any time?" "nothing definite, although I may get some word by Monday moriJ.ng« I plan to leave then." "Coaldn't yon pall oat rignt non, witboat disoberying any order? "well, probably. Might get a reprimand, beoaase I anderstand other nenspaper men want to get on board*" "Yee, there are otners* Plenty others* There must be at least fifteen over in Sydney right now, and there'll be others coming along with every train." "Fifteen or eighteenl Where* 11 I oank them? I have no aooommodations for so many men. I don't knov where 1*11 put them * " "If you palled oat right now, you would have no worry about that. I'll oet that oy tomorrow there'll be thirty or forty more here, or on their way. why not pull out right now? so orders against it'." "fell — well." We felt the oaptain was weakening* "Yes, let's go now right now," we urged* Captain Diokson stood up and started for the door* we were sure of victory, "Mate," he said quickly, "what do you—-" At that moment there was a clattering of swift footsteps along the deck, interrupting the skipper* In another moment, the door was thrown open^ aj^d in stalked eight of the other correspondents* They stood silently for a moment or two, dourly suspicieas of the situation* Then one asked: IX P^IARY "Captain, when do you sail?" "Some time tomorrow." "iifhen can we come aooard?" "Any time tomorrow. But our accommodations are meagre for so many men. It won't oe a pleasant voyage. Some probably will have to sleep on deck." Our conspiracy was nipped in the bud. Lloreover, all those other correspondents stuck ulose to us, grinning, tor they well knew what we were up to. That evening, we all took the last ferry back to Sydney; all together. Kot one of the "enemy" would leave ahead of us. All q^T i^ii -were grinning; two of us at our own defeat • Hoy and I hung around the Sydney Hotel, under close espionage, all evening and night. In the morning, we took the first ferry back to i^orth Sydney, accompanied by two or three of the others. The rest were coming in the afternoon. The few with us occasionally grinned knowingly. Later, we knew why. Their leader had received a cablegram frofli the uinister of Public Works informing him that all the correspondents would be taken aboard the Tyrian. They felt so secure now that they remained around the notel in i-^orth Sydney, with one or two men on guard at the Tyrian against any more conniving and the ship slipping out. Royyaud I sauntered around, always trailed, and late in the afternoon we called on Captain i^ickson again. iYe took him aside. He SixOwed us the cablegram from the uinister of ifublic Works* It read: "Await the arrival of the six oclock train Monday from Montreal with other correspondents." It was then about half past four. 12 P3ARY "Why, captain; there are fifteen or sixteen here now," we told him. "That train will oring anywhere from twenty to fifty more. This is the biggest story of the century. There'll be regular reporters, feature writers, magazine specialists and what not on that train. Photographers. Mayoe some of the sob sisters." "Sob Sisters?" women reporters." "Lly Gawd, I haven't room for the men. that'll I do with the women?" "These people will surely get on the ooat; make no mistake about that!" Captain Dickson scratched nis head. "Too many people. Too many people; but I guess I'll just have to wait." Another low conspiracy suddenly unfolded to us. "Captain, let's see that cablegram again." He sxiOwed it. "Why, Captain; this cablegram says plainly to await the arrival Of the six oclock train from Montreal with other correspondents an army of correspondents. It doesn't tell you wx^at to do with them. It doesn'$ order you to take them aooard the Tyrian. It doesn't even mention the Tyrian. There are no orders or even instructions about these people when they get here; what to do with them. Just wait for the traini Of course, one might infer naturally that you are to take them aboard the Tyrian; but. Captain, inxerences don't go in any man's orders. You know that. You have a very plain and very simple order to await the arrival of the iionday train only that aud uo thing more." 13 P^AHY "Um-ml Yes, that*s quite plainl" "Kow, Captain, you oan arrange with the station master to telephone you official word that the train has arrived. As soon as you are officially informed of its arrival, it's within your province —and strictly according to your orders- — to up-anchor and slide out of the iiarbor. And you won't be disobeying orders, for you have none pertaining to the time after the arrival of the six oclock train." "I hadn't thought of that. iVhat was worrying me most was how could I accommodate so many men. And the womeni >"'hy, with only one cooJd.e and a slobber-boy we'd be all day feeding fifty or sixty people in our small mess. Yes I'll arrange with the station master so I'll get official word that the train has arrived* ./hen it comes in, we go right out*" tiaptain uiclcson did just that* Just as the snip's bell was clanging six oclock, the screws of the Tyrian began turning slowly. A few moments later came the official word that the six oclock train was in. The Tyriau backed out, swung around, and pointed her nose toward the frowning rocks of Newfoundland, .-ith just eighteen correspondents aboard. How many we left oehind we did not know, but wheii we returned the town's population had oeen increased by sixty or seventy other writers, photographers aud xeature men. P-^C^ For an hour or more the Tyrian slid along the amooth sea at slow speed, wnile the correspondents found their sealegs. vVe all were wandering about the deck, wondering where we would bank. oaptain Dickson drew me aside: "Do you know Skipper Lleriwether? " he asked. "Very well. He f Walter Meriwether, now owner of the Mississippi Sun) was the big ship news man of the New York Herald 14 PEA-^y for years. He's here for the Kew York TLiies now; not here; he's one of those we left behind." Captain Diokson chuokled. "tfell," he said, "the captain of a tramp steamship, tied up over there, told me tSkipper Meriwether had done a wonderful thing for nim dowu in the Tropics, and if ever I could help a Herald man to do so. You know we have no aocommodat ions on this ship for all these correspondents, but I have accommodations for you — ay room on the forward deck. I'll sleep in my bunk up on the uridge. Gome." He took me into a cabin about 12 feet oy 15, equipped vjith double bed, wardrobe, writing-desk, etc., etc. It did uot take me long to get settled. All I had ueside a rented typewriter was a bundle like Ben the Luggage Boy had when he first ait Kew York. In it were the two extra shirts I had picked up, a sweater, an extra suit of underclothes, toothbrush and powder, hairurush and como tiling picked up in oydney, as I had lelt nome with nothing extra. The only cap I could find in Korth Sydney was a funny-looking flimsy thing twenty-five cents. -and it certainly looked twenty-five cents. It sat ou my neau like a hall-done .>afile. Fevi of the correspondents aad jrought shaviug outfits; torgot them in the rush. On tne trip we went without shaving and got to look like the House of David's ball team. Presently, while strolling aoout the deck, I met a l^ne straggler, J'red Thompson, of the Boston Post. We walked the deck together, marvelling at the beauty of the deep Jet night we were poking into. The stars were so brilliant they seemed to be hanging from the heavens on strings, almost within reach. In the wake of the ship, the phosphorus billowed up in great pools, t..enty feet 15 and more across, and glowing sufficiently for us to read the headlines of a newspaper, We had been pacing around for half an hour when it occurred to me that pernaps Thompson had found no place to sleep. "Where are you bunking?" "I have no place. Some of the sailors gave up their bunks; but I was too late. I'l^find a place on deck where I can sleep." "Well, I have a cabin, the Captain's caoin. If you would like to double up with me, come along." He opened his moutn wide wnen I showed him through the door» After he had placed his tnings on the uureau, we walked out on deck again, just as the Aurora Borealis burst forth across the northern sky in all its prismatic glory a great lan that beckoned to us and scintillated with xantastic allure. ij-or fully ten minutes it was on display; theu whisked out as sharply as if someone had turned off an electric light. Fifteen or tv.enty minutes later it lit up the sky again. It gave us four or five performances, each time of a different shape; then stopped for the night. We walked back to our cabin strangely impressed by the magic of it all, the lure of the Korth. After a good night's sleep on smooth water, we were up before daybreak, filling our lungs with the salty tang of the early morning air. After breakfast, wnile we were sitting in the cabin working out a story, a group of correspondents passed near the door; then stopped a snort distance away. They were in some heated discussion. We listened. "We'll tisieA this Herald man with a relaying pin if he don't A do what we want," one of them said. "He was tied up with Hoy Howard, 16 and now he's going it al^ne with the Boston Post. I'll take a crack at himl" "Who's going to bust who with a belaying pin?" I asked as we stepped out of the cabin and surprised the ^roup. "We'll bust you, because you've beeu playing against us all the time,'^ came various voices. "You nearly stole the snip away from us» You fixed it so a lot more correspondents were left behind. Kow you're hooked up with tne iJoston Post against us." "That's all cockeyed. I knew Roy Howard very slightly in V^ashington years ago. I nadn't seeu him since; not until we happened to come up here oa the same train. When we walked into the hotel, you v. ere the ones that ganged up. You kept away from us. Watched us like a pack of wolves. You wouldn't even speaK to us. Roy saw that immediately, and took tne situation as a joke and .- ■ '-.It/ suggested we make a joke of it. So far as stealing the Siiip aa«y from you, you licked us at that didn't you? iVe know you are just crying your hearts out oecause we dished thirty or more others." "How auout the Boston Post?" "I never saw Fred Thompson, here, until last night. He was alone on deck, with no place to sleep, and I invited him to double up with me. Kow, I'll tell you how close I came to leaving all of you behind and no scheming at that. If the Sydney Record folks had kept the secret to themselves, I and the two Sydney Record men would be the only newspaper people on this boat right now'" "What's all the bellyaching about, anyhow?" ?red Thompson asked . "Well," replied riarton ourry, of the Kew York World, and later editor of the Country Gentleman, "We've all agreed that when we 17 P3AHY finally get to a wireless station, or telegraph wire, vje'll each file only ZOO words; two men can double up and send 400 words to their papers, same story; or three men 600 words. That'll give every man a chance. iVe'll draw iDts for the order in which we file." "Why, that's fair enough," Fred said. ">Vhy didn'^; you say something about it to us before? iVe're for it. Would have OK'd it long ago. It protects everyone. Let's draw lots right now." We did 80. Thompson and I drew Kos. 5 and 6. So the belaying pin Bac just engineered us into good and safe positions. All througn the day we drilled along Newfoundland's rocky walls several hundred feet high. oome straight up from the sea. Others jagged and frowning. Along that entire western coast oi more thati 300 miles were only two havens for ships in trouble. One at Port aux Basques, wnich we had left behind; the other somewhere ahead of us at Red Bay. Then we must make the Strait of Belle Isle, the "graveyard of ships," so-called because of the danger from iceoergs sailing down the narrow channel. About mid-day we hove to off Red Bay and put a boat ashore to inquire generally ot the weather and the movement of the ice. Towards evening, we were jogging a^^ead at xair speed, msoLts^xxis. most of us lined along the rail just belovj the pilot uouse, musing at the uarren northern picture. tiust before dusk, an old mariner, a^^out eighty, standing nearby, called up to the skipper: "Berg coming through!" "Whereaway?" "off starboard bow." rfe could see nothing that looked like an iceberg. nothing but tne smooth sea. lb P^AHY "We can't see any iceberg, .nhere is it? How do you icuow? Can yoa see it?" were sone of our landlubber questions. "Mo," the old salt replied, "I can't see it; but I cau smell it It's right over there, coming out of the Strait of Belle Isle." That didn't sound so good to us. We'd read many tijnes of snip being crushed by icebergs and great floes. How that we were within "smelling distance" it all has a somewhat uncanny meaning. ./e were r not at all reassured wher^the skipper called dowa to the ancient / mariner: "Vifill you come up. Captain?" The old fellow climbed up into the pilot nouse. In spite of his age, his eyes, set in a oronzed and marvellously wrinkled face, were as bright and sharp as steel. He gazed keenly, steauily into the northeast. Presently he spoke .in low tone the pilot, without — . — /\ turning his head. The DOws of the Tyrian swung away from north to northwest, then almost due west. The engine bells jangled. Half speed. We moved straight for a i^igh wall of rocky coast, as imt forbidding as Newfoundland's. It looked auout five miles away. The sky was darkening, the wind coming up. We could see no sanctuary anywhere ahead. As we came closer, the seas smashing high agaiust the rocks made the situation very uninviting. The engine bells clanged again. Quarter speed. Later, the engines stopped. ^Ve slid along, as if doubtful of our direction, ft'e zig-zagged a Dit. Then more clattering bells. Quarter speed again. Llore zig-zagging. After half an hour more, we swung into the northwest again. Mow we could see an openingj angle-wise, in the rocky heights. It looked to us no wider than a knife-cut in a chocolate cake. Half Left to right: Photographer; this author; Arf!!BV Gonstatine; Carl Brandeberry; ship's officer. The Tyrian, iu our sanctuary bay iu the Labrador coast* 1 i 19 PSAl^y speed again. The slit opeued wider, until there was a passageway through the mountainous rock many times wider than the ship. ./e put into a rook-walled bay, about a mile in diameter. Sate from wind, storm and icebergs* i'ive fishiug smacks vjere anchored inside the refuge. The arxjient mariner, an old-time wealing master, had taken cover there many times from storms. iVhile he had not Deeu in that Day for nearly fifty years, he well remembered the ticklish navigation neccessary to enter it. itnd he was tne only man aboard the Tyrian who knew exactly now to mauoeuver through that tortuous route • Kei-t day uroke clear. The wind that howled aoove us most oi the night, had gone dowu and now was coming from the south. The sun was shining urightly. ing-di stance vision outranged our younger eyes by many miles. An hour later we rounded the promontory, and then the cry went up: "There she isJ There's the Roosevelti" We now could see, aoove the lower part of the land, the Stars aiid Stripes waving briskly in tne breeze. Topmasts and yard-arms aud trailing- ropes stood up over tne aill like cobwebs against the sky.