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 53so 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.”