CHAPTER XIV

THE BIGGEST NEWSPAPER SPOOF ON RECORD

How the great spoof first came into my mind--Hoaxing the newspaper Press of two continents--Telepathy and thought-transference --The incredulous reporter--I propose a drastic test--A representative of the _Bristol Times and Mirror_ hides a stylograph pen in an unknown quarter of the city--I am blindfolded and find it--Amazement and enthusiasm of the people--A column report in the newspaper--An insoluble problem--Various theories as to how it was done--An indoors test imposed by the Editor of the _Bath Chronicle_--Blindfolded through the streets of Bath --Vast crowds--I am again successful--Press and public alike bewildered--Hoaxing the Yankees--The Oakland, California, _Tribune’s_ test--Two hundred and fifty dollars in gold hidden --The Secretary of the Oakland Chamber of Commerce is chosen to secrete the treasure--Again I am successful--My best free Press “ad.”--Congratulations all round.

The idea of the “great spoof,” the most colossal thing of its kind, I venture to assert, ever perpetrated on the Press and public of two continents, first suggested itself to my mind in February, 1907, when I was playing in pantomime at the Prince’s Theatre, Bristol.

I was being interviewed by a representative of the _Bristol Times and Mirror_, and the conversation turned on the alleged telepathic feats of the Zancigs, then at the height of their popularity. The newspaper man opined that there must be “something in” the theory of occultism in connection with their exhibition; that they were possessed of a sixth sense, for example.

I hotly traversed this view of the matter, but eventually, after some further argument, I pretended to agree that possibly telepathy, or thought-transference, might afford a clue to the solution of the so-called mystery. This I did for an ulterior motive of my own, and in pursuance of a plan that was beginning to shape itself in my mind; for I do not really believe in telepathy, thought-transference, mind-reading--call it what you will. Presently, in the course of the conversation, came the cue question I had been waiting for, and which I had gradually led up to, though without appearing to do so.

“Can _you_ read a man’s thoughts?” asked the reporter.

“Yes,” I replied boldly; “given certain conditions, I can.”

The reporter sniffed incredulously. I pretended to get huffed.

“Look here!” I burst forth, as though struck by a sudden inspiration. “In order to prove to you that I can read yours, I am willing to submit to a test; the most drastic, almost, that it is possible to conceive. You shall take some small article and hide it in any part of the city you like, and I will go to where you have hidden it, and find it. Moreover, I will allow you to blindfold me in such a manner that it is impossible for me to see to find my way to the spot where you have hidden the object, even if I knew where the locality was or in which direction it lay. All I ask is that you shall walk behind me and mentally direct me which way to go. You must fix your whole attention on the quest, that is to say, and exert all your will-power to guide me aright. This is all I ask. The rest is my business. There will be no word spoken between us, no questions asked or answered, and, of course, no personal contact. In fact, I should prefer that you remain always at some distance behind me; say, for instance, five or six paces.”

* * * * *

The sequel to the above conversation came a week later, when on February 5th, 1907, I found a stylograph pen which had been previously hidden by the reporter in the axle of one of the old Russian guns on Brandon Hill. Of course the affair was well boomed beforehand--I saw to that--and fully three thousand people (according to the report in the _Evening Times_ of the above date) were on the hill when I made the discovery, while a crowd of at least two thousand watched my start from the Prince’s Theatre, after my eyes had been tightly bandaged with a dark blue silk handkerchief folded in ten thicknesses, and stitched together to prevent any slipping. The width of this bandage was about four inches, completely covering my eyes, and, in order to make assurance doubly sure, I had each eye covered under the bandage with a separate pad of cotton-wool, pressed well down into the sockets.

Thus blindfolded I groped and blundered my way along several streets. Once I ran into a tramcar. Four times I fell down. But--I found the pen. And so delighted were the crowd at my success, that they seized me and carried me shoulder high to the Prince’s Theatre. The full report of the affair, as published in the newspaper, occupied over a column; and the reporter professed himself completely puzzled as to how I accomplished the feat, as indeed doubtless he was.

Yet the whole business was a spoof from start to finish, so far, that is to say, as regards there being any question of telepathy or thought-transference. But it was a spoof engineered entirely by myself, and off my own bat, so to speak. In other words, there was no collusion, direct or indirect, between me and anybody else connected with the affair. Nor, as a matter of fact had I the remotest idea, when I set out on my quest, whereabouts the pen was hidden, nor indeed in what quarter of the city. In the circumstances, therefore, I think the reader will admit that the feat was, on the face of it, a sufficiently marvellous one.

I was blindfolded. I was in a strange city, where the streets and turnings I had to traverse and take were necessarily totally unfamiliar to me. Let the reader turn the problem about in his own mind, and try if he can reach any plausible solution of the mystery. I make bold to say that he will fail, as the good people of Bristol failed, and as many thousands of other people failed before whom I was presently to give other similar exhibitions in various parts of the world.

Telepathy was the explanation most generally tendered, both then and afterwards, and I have in my possession letters from members of the Psychical Research Society warning me against repeating the experiment on account of the strain on my “psychic personality,” which might, so they averred, have unlooked-for and dangerous results. That the ordeal I voluntarily underwent was a trying, not to say nerve-racking, one was perfectly true. I felt it mentally and physically for weeks afterwards. Nevertheless, as I have already intimated, telepathy did not enter into the matter at all. Exactly how the trick was worked I shall take occasion to explain later on. Suffice it to say here that I afterwards spoofed the Press and public on the same lines over and over again, and never once did I fail in my quest, nor was the secret of how it was done ever elucidated by anybody.

I have performed the feat in Italian cities, and puzzled university professors, and before committees of professional magicians in India, Egypt, and other Oriental and Near-Eastern countries, and these were deceived as completely as were the shrewd, hard-headed Yankees.

Some of my hardest tests, however, have been undergone in England, in connection with certain of the big English newspapers. In several instances editors whom I have approached have been frankly incredulous in the beginning; so much so, indeed, that they have at first refused to sanction a public test under their auspices. This was the case in connection with the _Bath Chronicle_, whereupon I offered to give a preliminary exhibition there and then in the office before the members of the staff.

The offer was accepted. I was blindfolded with a thick, heavy muffler, folded in four, which was then tied tightly round my head, my eyes, moreover, being first covered with pads of cotton-wool. This done, one of the staff, at my suggestion, took up a piece of chalk and started to draw a line from near where I was standing to whatever part of the building he chose. He could, I agreed, carry the line where he pleased, up and down stairs, into the basement, offices, machine-rooms--anywhere he liked, in fact. This done, he was to hide some small article at some spot near the end of the line, and I would undertake to find it. More than this, I told him that, provided he walked behind me, concentrated all his thoughts on the matter in hand, and willed me so to do, I would follow exactly the chalk-line he had marked out, pacing along all its twists and turnings, until I had groped my way to the end and found the hidden article.

This feat I successfully accomplished, wending my way in and out among machinery--purposely brought to a standstill for the occasion--upstairs and downstairs, under tables and over chairs. As a result everybody was greatly impressed, nobody had any reasonable explanation to offer, and the editor promptly agreed to a public trial, minus, of course, the chalk line.

Accordingly he deputed a member of his staff to hide, “in some public place within two miles of the _Chronicle_ office, some article or other.” Strict injunctions were given that he was to let no one see him do it, and that he was not to tell a single person what he had hidden, or where he had hidden it.

So impressed was the reporter with the importance of his mission, I found out afterwards, that he waited until after dark to fulfil it, and sallied forth from the office so stealthily, and followed so circuitous and lonely a route, as to convince him that no one could possibly have dogged his footsteps, or had him under observation in any shape or form.

The day following I underwent the test, and successfully located the article he had hidden. The report of the affair in the _Bath Chronicle_ takes up about a column and a half, but as the main instances are similar to those narrated above I forbear to quote it in its entirety. I will, however, reproduce the concluding paragraphs, and I would like to direct the reader’s particular attention to the words I have italicised, as I shall have something important to say about this particular incident when I come to elucidate the mystery.

After relating various happenings in connection with the earlier stage of the journey, the crowd that lined the route, etc., the report proceeds as follows:

Reaching the turning leading to the Midland Bridge, “Carlton” crossed the road for a few yards, and then went ahead towards the bridge. He marched on, only halting once or twice, as his outstretched hands fumbled the side of the bridge. Crossing and recrossing the road he went on, and the crowd was evincing the liveliest interest in the proceedings. Arriving at the end of the Midland Bridge Road, he turned sharply to the left, and after some manœuvring turned down James Street.

_Here he walked into the wall on the left-hand side, his forehead coming into contact with the stonework. This accident loosened the bandage over “Carlton’s” eyes, which was at once readjusted._ This done, “Carlton” made for the direction of Green Park. He took the right-hand side of the thoroughfare, and for about twenty yards kept close to the railings fencing the Green Park enclosure. The explorer retraced his steps as far as the Park entrance gate, which seemed to excite his lively interest. His hand alighting on the handle, he opened the gate, entered the enclosure, and closely examined with his hands the stonework on which the gate is hung. He was observed by the crowd to stoop down, feel along the ground, and on rising up was seen to be holding a pale blue envelope. Recognising that the search had been successful, the crowd cheered heartily. On opening the envelope “Carlton,” amid renewed cheers, displayed the bunch of keys which I had late last night hidden. He had completed his task in an hour.

As a rule the articles hidden by those who tested me were comparatively valueless, and anyhow I was not supposed to keep possession of them after I had found them. But at Oakland, California, I was given a rather pleasant surprise. So cocksure was the editor of the _Tribune_ of that city that I could not do what I said I could do, under the conditions he proposed to impose upon me, that he offered to hide two hundred and fifty dollars, the money to be mine if I succeeded in finding it.

Naturally, I was quite agreeable, and as the _Tribune_ took good care to boom its “generous offer” beforehand, the crowds in the streets on the day the test was to be performed surpassed anything I had before experienced. The police estimated that there were between thirty and forty thousand people present. The date was September 9th, 1911, and the dust and the heat were awful.

The individual chosen by the _Tribune_ editor to hide the money, and to “guide” me to it afterwards, was no less a personage than the Secretary of the Oakland Chamber of Commerce, one of the city’s wealthiest and most prominent citizens, and a man whose integrity and _bona fides_ were, of course, quite beyond question. By agreement with the Chief of Police, he had selected as a hiding-place for the bag of gold one of the police telephone call-boxes, such as are an institution in most American cities, and to which the police alone are able to obtain access by means of their private keys.

The particular box he chose was fixed to an electric light standard in a remote quarter of the city, and just before I left the _Tribune_ building the editor received a telephone message to the effect that the money was still in the box where it had been hidden overnight, and that the key had now been placed on top of the box, which was being guarded by a couple of officers detailed for the purpose. This information, however, was, I need hardly say, not imparted to me. In fact, I knew nothing whatever about the money, except that it was hidden somewhere in Oakland, and that I had got to find it.

How I succeeded is told in the following report, taken from a special evening edition of the _Tribune_, which was selling on the streets within a few minutes of my having accomplished my task:

In the middle of a hollow square and surrounded by thirty thousand persons, shortly after noon to-day, at the south-east corner of Fourteenth and Broadway, “Arthur Carlton,” the famed magician, who is nightly performing at the Orpheum in this city, blindfolded found a bag containing two hundred and fifty dollars in gold which had been hidden in a telephone-box at that intersection for the purpose of determining whether or not he was able to read the thoughts of the man who had there cached the precious metal.

The discovery was greeted with enthusiastic cheers by the thousands who pressed in on every side, and who were prevented from raising the magician upon their shoulders only by a cordon of police.

The money was offered by the _Tribune_ for the purpose of determining whether or not “Carlton” possessed the power of reading the minds of persons, which he claimed to be able to do. In the event of his finding the coin in the place selected for its secretion, the two hundred and fifty dollars was to become the property of the finder. There was a stipulation, however, that the money was to be cached by a man of standing in the community who should be selected by the management of the _Tribune_; that the hiding-place was to be kept a secret by the representatives of this paper, who had been chosen for the purpose, and that the treasure-trove should be conducted in the light of day and in the presence of every resident of the city of Oakland who might desire to witness the quest.

“Carlton” agreed to every condition and complied with them in a manner which showed him to be not only capable of mastering the thoughts of others without physical contact with them, but at the same time to be a consistent advocate of the science of telepathy, of which he is to-day the most famous exponent in existence.

The achievement of this young Englishman has never been equalled in this city. This is the view of thousands of citizens who witnessed the accomplishment, and who still retain the heartiest appreciation of the work in the same line of Bishop, Tyndall, and other workers in the same field who made reputations in this country about twenty years ago. It has been created by the fact that “Carlton” has done something which none of those distinguished advocates of thought-transference ever attempted. They were able to read the minds of others, but not without being in physical contact with those whose minds they were reading. The persons whose minds were being interpreted were required to hold the demonstrator by the wrist and concentrate their thoughts upon the subject which was to be illustrated, or they were connected by wires with the operator and expected to centre their thoughts both upon the article hidden and the direction which had been followed in the secretion.

The following morning the paper gave up its entire front page to recording my achievement, and then, and for several days afterwards, scores of letters appeared from people who imagined that they had hit upon the solution of the mystery.

As a matter of fact, as I have before intimated, neither in Oakland, nor anywhere else where I have performed the feat, has anyone succeeded in finding out how it was done.

Now for the explanation!