There is one doctor now famous because he is quoted almost daily in the newspapers, who ten years ago was in hard luck financially. One day he was introduced, or rather introduced himself, to a city editor by calling at the latter’s office on an apparently innocuous errand. It happened just at the time (accidentally, of course) when public interest was aroused over the prevalence of infantile paralysis. After the doctor had concluded the business on which he called, the editor, finding him an intelligent, well-informed man, asked his opinion on the medical sensation of the day. This was the doctor’s opportunity, and he took full advantage of it. “That is an important matter,” he replied, “and no professional man should discuss it hurriedly or carelessly. I have some pressing calls to make (this was a whopper) and haven’t the time to spare just now, but I’ll be delighted to give you my views within a few hours.” This was acceptable, so the doctor went to a friend’s library, read up on the subject as thoroughly as he could in such a short time, and a few hours later was back in the editorial sanctum. Here he talked so well that the editor said: “By Jove, doctor. That’s the kind of stuff I want. Can’t you write it out for me? I’m afraid to trust a reporter, as there would be a risk of getting it muddled. I’ll give you a good stenographer to dictate to.” Barkis, which in this case was the doctor, was willing. 71He dictated the matter, and the next morning was paraded on the first page in big type as “the eminent Dr. ——” His fortune dated from that day. Patients came in by the score. His newspaper friend had occasion to call on him frequently for information on current medical topics, and he was in print so much that his name was on everybody’s tongue. That was fame, and a kind of fame that brought wealth. This particular medic had the gift of a real bunko artist. He knew how to keep the good thing moving, and to “con” the city editor who thought he was above being caught. “Really, my dear Mr. ——,” the doctor would say when asked by phone for a statement, “really I’m too busy to do the subject justice, but I can’t refuse you. Send a stenographer over and I’ll dictate something. By the way, the World and the Express both wanted something but I had to turn them down.” Did the city editor appreciate this favoritism? He certainly did, and saw to it that the doctor got all there was coming in the way of double leads, scare heads, and top of column positions. 73 CHAPTER V   GETTING COUNTRY PATIENTS