In time the new treatment was administered. In ninety days the patient was discharged as cured, returned to his home, and resumed charge of his business. To this day he is well mentally and physically, and no one, unacquainted with his history, would ever think he had been insane, and confined as a dangerous lunatic.
Having satisfied himself as to the accuracy of the story, Johnson’s next move was to plan out a line of action. The story to be acceptable in a news way, and carry plausibility with it must come from the patient’s home town. It would never do for Johnson to offer it to the newspapers himself. His connection with it must be carefully concealed. The first thing he did in this direction was to ascertain who handled the correspondence that was sent out to the big dailies from this particular town. He found that it was virtually in the hands of a Mr. Wheeling, city editor of a local paper.
Armed with this knowledge Johnson took a train and went to the town in question—it is only a few miles from Chicago—timing himself so as to arrive there when Mr. Wheeling had finished his rush work for the day. Arriving there he introduced himself to Wheeling as follows:
“My name is Johnson. Pardon me for intruding upon you, but I’m a stranger in town, with a little spare time on my hands, and being somewhat of a newspaper man myself it seems sort of homelike to poke around an editor’s den. It’s the best way I have of killing time and, if it doesn’t annoy you, I’d like to pass away an hour or so chatting over newspaper work and newspaper men.”
Wheeling, a cordial, whole-souled chap, made Johnson welcome, and they were soon very friendly, exchanging reminiscences, and regaling one another with their experiences. Johnson was in no hurry to spring the trap. He was too smart for that. He produced some good cigars and, after they had talked for an hour or so, invited Wheeling to take dinner with him at the hotel. Wheeling accepted, and after the meal, when fresh cigars were lighted, Johnson proceeded to set his trap as follows:
“Once a man has the newspaper fever he never gets it out of his blood, at least not entirely. I’m better off now financially than I could possibly expect to be working as a reporter or editor, and yet frequently the old desire to cover an assignment, or write a good story, takes hold of me, and takes hold hard. It’s galling for a man of my disposition to run against a good story and not be able to make use of it, but this is happening with me right along. Why this very afternoon, in conversation with a business friend just before I met you, I heard a story that’s a corker, and would make a big sensation if it ever got into print. But pshaw, what’s the use of talking, I’m simply not in position to make use of it, and might as well pass it up. It goes against the grain though, I can assure you.”
“Why not give me the tip?” asked Wheeling. “I’m correspondent here for quite a list of papers, and a real live story, one that I could spread on, would mean considerable to me.”
“Well,” replied Johnson, “I don’t mind giving you such facts as I have, but of course I can’t vouch for their accuracy. All I can say is that if your investigation establishes the truth of what I have heard all the big papers will want the story by the column, and then some.”
Johnson then proceeded to outline the story to Wheeling, hesitating purposely as if not quite sure of the patient’s name, and giving one that sounded much like it, but was not the real one. The trap was sprung. Wheeling knew the man, and at once realized that he was in line for a big Sunday spread. It would not do to waste so good a yarn on the daily issues in which a stick or two of space would be the limit when he could place a column or more in each of the Sunday papers. Wheeling furnished his correspondence at space rates, so much per column, and he naturally wanted to make the story as full and complete as possible.
That very night (it was Monday) he visited the home of the miraculously cured man. The latter talked freely, corroborating all the important details. Wheeling’s next visit was to the home of the family physician, and there he got more corroboration. The next morning he wired the various Sunday editors as follows: