a warrant for you. Come along with me;" and he made an
effort to force me along.
But resistance was useless. I was marched away and fur
nished accommodations behind cross-bars of iron. To say that
I was angry would only be mockery to my feelings. I ex
pressed the emotion in true railroad style, then felt relieved.
Gradually I subsided' and finally laughed heartily at the ri
diculous, but dramatic situation. Second thought satisfied me
that I could easily prove myself to be Ben Johnson, telegraph
operator, and no mistake. Almost every man on the division
knew me. So I wrote the following note:
DAN BROWN, Agent:
In the prison cell I sit thinking of how you are wondering
why lam not on hand with the key. I can't get away from
my friends. I am stopping at the County Hotel. I have
every accommodation that the place affords, free, too; think
of that. The landlord is the most obliging man I ever met.
He even insisted on my wearing his jewelry. You know, Dan,
there is nothing proud about me. I feel miserable with it on;
but he was so urgent and it seemed as though I would confer
so great a favor upon him that I could not refuse. Now, Dan,
don't think that all these favors are being showered upon Ben
Johnson, night owl. They dub me Ben Haines and won't
listen to anything I say to the contrary. If you can satisfy
the bearer of this note that I am truly Ben Johnson and not
Ben Haines, the rascally book ageht, you will oblige me very
much. Very sincerely,
The Sheriff delivered my note to the agent. He read it,
pausing every few minutes to laugh, not so much at the letter
as at the idea that I was a case of mistaken identity. He
finished reading the note, folded it up and looked up to the
Sheriff and said: " Every word of this letter has 'the ring of
Ben Johnson in it. By Ben Johnson I mean the little, lean,
ghost-looking fellow, who was night owl at Princeton for
more than a year. If it is Ben Johnson that you have in
BEN JOHNSON.