THE REAL ESTATE FAKE—BOOMING A TOWN—MAKING A FORTUNE—TRICKS OF OTHER
PEOPLE—ALL THIS WORLD IS A FAKE AND EVERY PERSON IN IT A FAKIR—THE
POLITICIAN AND THE WIDOW—A DIAMOND RING FOR TWO CENTS.
“Almost twenty years in the faking and book business. How times flies;
and yet I have gained enough experience in those twenty years to last a
lifetime.”
So I mused one day while tilted back in my chair in front of the
“Ashland” hotel, the principal house in a western town, which perhaps
you may recognize under the name of Buxton.
I remember, as distinctly as though the time was yesterday, all the
surroundings of that little town. The place was on the eve of a boom,
and the best informed were in a fever of excitement over its prospects.
I took out my bank book and looked over its pages.
No. The past ten years of my life had not been wasted. Each succeeding
page showed a record of profits and gains, even though it was only when
I switched from street selling and the like to the handling of a general
line of books, and a little later on to the exclusive traveling in the
interests of the Banner encyclopedia, that fortune seemed really coming
at my command.
I had then what was a fair little fortune laid by. Of late years I had
been always a winner, and felt sure that I could carry the “Banner”
successfully for many years to come. Even in the little bits of
speculation in which, more for the sake of diversion than profit, I had
been engaged success had invariably crowned my efforts. Why should I not
launch out more boldly? I believed I saw a chance to make thousands in
the time I was taking to make hundreds, and without the possibility of
any great loss. And if I did lose, what matter, since I had strength and
experience through which I could soon recoup myself?
The speculative fever had me, and sitting in that up-tilted chair I
decided to hit the game for what it was worth before the fever rose with
the rest of the world to its full height, thus giving me the best chance
to be in shape and ready for the crisis. I bought a piece of land
adjoining Buxton and had it cut up into building lots. I sold them all
when the boom came for twelve dollars each. The deals were managed by
local real estate agents, and after paying them their commission I found
that on an investment of four thousand dollars I was six thousand ahead.
Having bought at the right time there never was any danger that I would
lose; while, as I had expected, I came out a handsome winner.
This speculation encouraged me to dabble in real estate on a larger
scale. I realized that it was not like the old days when one waited for
years while the land slowly grew into value, but that with smart,
far-seeing heads at the front fortunes might be made in a single night.
I looked over the map and kept my ear to the ground, waiting for another
favorable opportunity.
I found it at Harwood, where I bought several sections of land, which I
cut up into town lots, holding them, at the outset, at thirty dollars a
lot. As before, I had local land agents interested, who, seeing big
money for themselves, assisted me in all kinds of schemes to boom the
property.
They built—on paper—three railroads, a magnificent union depot, machine
shops and factories, an opera house, and a line of street cars. There
was in reality as fine a bit of water power at Harwood as one would want
to see, and the site had other advantages. We got the attention of the
people of the state turned in that direction by advertising, hired a job
lot of engineers to survey for the three railroads, and got as far as to
start the foundation of a two million dollar college. The street car
lines were brought to the attention of eastern capitalists, who own the
franchise to this day. Outside people put in money and then came to look
after it. One of the railroads was actually constructed, and another
broke ground; the water power was turning the wheel of a real mill; a
handsome court house stood in the public square; there was a hotel or
two on Central avenue fit to grace any little city; there was a
population that had risen from four hundred to four thousand, and more
coming, and every evidence of prosperity, when I sold out my last lots.
I had already seen some of my thirty dollar lots go up to three hundred,
while the poorest land owner in the original town would have made a
fortune if he had held on long enough. But I knew how to quit and when
to quit. With a hundred thousand dollars to the good I retired
gracefully, and before the turn of the tide. There were plenty of
persons in after years to say, “If Weldon had stayed with us the boom
would not have collapsed.” But Weldon did not stay. I knew it was only a
question of time when the inflated values would take a tumble, so I
stood from under and lost not a dollar in the wreck.
Since this successful venture I have been in numerous speculative deals,
and the quality of being ever on the alert, acquired while faking in
different capacities, has stood me well in my later career. I have
always felt to a moment how long it was a sure thing to hold on, and
have never been caught in a crash. Perhaps I have at times been too
conservative, but I tell you, gentlemen, there is nothing like playing
on velvet.
As to the methods by which I made my fortune, I have no desire to offer
an excuse for them, and yet a few words may here be in order, to call
attention to the fact that there are other fakirs in the world besides
the man who travels with microscopic look-backs and goldentine pens.
Before the reader undertakes to criticise me harshly let him look and
see what is done every day in channels of “legitimate trade.” I admit
that I practiced trickery during my years on the road, but I claim that
any man is justified to use it in gaining his point, providing he does
not misrepresent merits and gives value received. Show me the man who
has not the ability to draw customers to him, or sense to employ
business tact and trickery, and I will show you a man who will never
amount to much in the world. His brethren in the trade are using them
every day, and they are the ones who succeed.
If a merchant advertises a special sale, and gives you a yard of calico
for three cents which cost him five, does he not throw out a leader to
lure you into his store so that he can sell you something else at a
profit? I remember once, walking down a business street in a large city,
I saw twenty dummies in front of a clothing store, each of them cased in
an overcoat of extra fine material. Hung to each one was a large
placard:
“Special Sale of Overcoats Today.
Your Choice $4.98.”
I picked on one I thought would suit me and went inside to buy it. When
I told the salesman what I wanted he said, “Those goods on the outside
are not in the special sale; but here are the $4.98 coats,” and he
pointed to a pile of inferior garments. Of course, they caught customers
by the scheme, and was it not trickery?
Once I asked a preacher who was managing a church fair why it was they
talked so strongly against lotteries and gambling, and then had so many
schemes of chance at their fair, and so many of the young ladies working
among the boys to catch their little ten cent pieces. He replied that
without special features of some kind a crowd could not be drawn and the
effort would end in failure. Isn’t this trickery?
Do not understand me to be against the preachers. I am now a member of
the church and an earnest advocate of religion. I am simply showing up
the true side of life and human nature.
Is there any bigger grafter for fees than the average lawyer or doctor?
Go into his office and before he will name a price he will size you up
and soak you accordingly.
Once I shipped a crate of picture frames to a town, the shipping agent
telling me the rate was fifty-three cents. When I came to pay at the
other end the rate was one dollar and six cents. The freight clerk told
me that when shipped at owner’s risk the rate was fifty-three; otherwise
it was one dollar and six cents. Was not that trickery—and robbery
besides?
Did you ever see a more unprincipled trickster than the average
politician? Here is an illustration. In a certain county of a great
state there were two candidates for the nomination for the office of
county superintendent of schools; one, a man without a family; the
other, a widow lady with two children. They were about equal in strength
and it was uncertain which would win. The man, wanting to get his
opponent out of the way, made her the proposition that if she would
withdraw and support him, and he was elected, he would make her his
deputy and divide the proceeds of the office equally between them. She
accepted and gave her whole time to the campaign. After the election he
tried to ignore her entirely, swore that he had never entered into such
an agreement, and on top of that circulated all sorts of scandalous
reports concerning her. The poor woman took all this so to heart that
she committed suicide, throwing two orphan children upon the world—and
they were girls at that. Was not that the worst kind of trickery,
treachery, knavery and hypocrisy? I call it murder in the first degree.
Once, when I was in the west, I stopped at the only hotel there was in
the town, the proprietor being also a banker. The hotel made me a rate
of ten dollars a week, and at the end of the seven days I tendered a
draft for twenty-five dollars, which I had received from my firm that
morning. The banker claimed I could not be sufficiently identified and
refused to cash my paper, but agreed to send it in for collection. He
kept me there three days, waiting for money, and at the end of that time
charged, in addition to the ten dollars for the week, two dollars per
day for the extra three days, and seventy-five cents for collection.
Now, wasn’t that robbery as well as trickery? I knew he had “worked” me,
for he could not send the draft to New York and get returns in three
days.
In North Dakota there were two undertakers. One was poor, the other rich
and owner of the only hearse in town. A poor man’s wife died. He found
that he could buy a coffin at the smaller establishment for a great deal
less than from the other. He ordered it, but when he called to make
arrangements for the hearse the proprietor would not let him have it,
because the coffin was not bought at his place. The poor man was forced
to go to the next town and procure a hearse. That seems even worse than
trickery.
There is a large concern in Chicago which advertises to send you a one
hundred dollar diamond ring for a two-cent stamp; and they do it, too.
Here is the way the scheme is worked: An agent of the company sells you
a ticket or coupon for one dollar. You send the ticket and nine dollars
in cash to the firm, which in turn sends you ten other coupons. You sell
these coupons to your friends for one dollar each, thereby getting your
money back. Your friends must each do the same as you did, selling their
coupons to their friends. As soon as your friends send the money they
have collected you get your diamond, and when their friends do likewise
each one of your friends gets his. So, you see, while the company is
paid for the goods sent out, each man actually gets a hundred dollar
diamond ring for a stamp. Now, isn’t that up-to-date trickery? It is a
sort of endless chain scheme, and is actually being carried on by a
responsible firm in Chicago.
A great many times in my travels I have noticed that the Salvation Army
are particularly fond of holding meetings in front of those hotels which
are most patronized by traveling men. The reason is obvious. They have
an eye for the collections they invariably take up, and there is not a
more cheerful giver on earth than the traveling man. I remember once
seeing the Army collect twenty-eight dollars in front of a certain
hotel, and then march up the street and work the next one. I do not
censure them; I approve of their work, but I say this is trickery just
the same.
One of the worst things in the line of trickery and fraud is the system
of paying in scrip by certain corporations. These companies have their
own stores, and in order to force the men to buy at them they pay wages
in scrip, which is virtually only an order for goods at the company
concern. Is not this an outrage? Officers and managers who are honored
and respected wherever they go have the men work like slaves, and
instead of paying in cash give them a due-bill, good in trade alone, and
only at the company store at that. By going through a lot of red tape,
waiting perhaps three or four weeks, these due-bills can be cashed at
ten per cent. discount. That is the best that can be done. Usually the
laborer needs his money and thinks he is lucky if he can find some
member of the company who will cash his order individually and on the
spot at a discount of twenty-five per cent. Again, I call this robbery
and trickery combined.
When I first landed in San Francisco a hack-man led me to believe that
he was a hotel runner and created the impression that I would get a free
ride. All houses there run a free bus. When I reached the hotel he
charged me two dollars. Without a kick I paid it, as I might have known
better than to trust him.
In another city I noticed a case filled with a beautiful line of
photographs. The following sign was in the center:
“These Elegant Cabinets Just
$1.00 Per Dozen. Come Up and Have
Your Picture Taken.”
You go upstairs and after the operator gets his camera fixed on you he
tells you, by the way, that the photos are $1.00 per dozen unmounted; if
you want them put on cards they are two dollars a dozen. Now, who in the
world would want photos unless they were mounted on cardboard? If you
don’t put up the two dollars you get no pictures.
An enterprising restaurant man put a sign in front of his place,
advertising “Ham and eggs at ten cents. Beefsteak and potatoes ten
cents, including coffee, bread and butter, etc.” You go in to eat and on
the bill of fare printed in very small letters you find the following:
“All single ten cent dishes twenty cents; all twenty cent dishes
twenty-five cents.”
I have seen instances on the road where hotel proprietors send their
porters to the depot to yell at you when alighting from the train, “Free
bus for such and such a hotel.” When you ride from the depot to the
hotel the ride is free, but when you go back from the hotel it costs you
twenty-five cents. I know of hundreds of hotels that charge their
transient trade two dollars a day and their local patrons three dollars
a week. Every traveling man on the road will tell you this is true. Some
landlords even seem to go beyond this. I knew of one who was fond of
getting up raffles, on perhaps a watch or a diamond ring, selling
tickets only to transient customers. The raffle never came off, though
this landlord would always claim that it had, and give the name of some
fictitious person as the winner. I am glad to say that he was eventually
sent to the penitentiary.
I could spend hours in calling attention to incidents like the
foregoing, but what is the use? You can see, and you must know, that
everybody is looking out for number one—every move, every thought and
every word uttered seems to have a selfish motive back of it. You must
look out for yourself, or go under for sure. A great author once said
that all the world is a stage, and all the persons in it merely players.
He might have said, “All the world is a fake and all the persons on it
merely fakirs.”
Draw your own conclusions, then, from what I have written. Call me an
unvarnished liar if you will, a dissembler, a hypocrite, a cheat, a
dead-beat, what you like. To the untutored masses a successful fakir may
seem to be all of these. You think his occupation is simply skinning the
public. I know that his largest triumphs are in giving every man the
full value for his money, and yet securing good profits for himself.
Reconcile the two if you can; I did it long ago. Whether you succeed or
not, if these pages have furnished you fair amusement I will be content.
For no other reason were they written.
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