The Ghost of the Sound: A Swindler’s Vanishing Act
A glib salesman charms his way into the good graces of a prominent Seattle firm, only to disappear with their funds and a trail of aliases.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A professional swindler, who has been operating at various towns in Oregon and Washington Territory recently, has succeeded in bilking a firm in this city quite extensively, and getting away with the spoils. The fellow has recently been traveling under the name of Meyers, but while operating in the vicinity of Albany and Harrisburg, Oregon, went by the name of Davis. Some months ago, he was employed by Toklas Singerman of this city, to sell goods in various towns about the Sound, and he being quite successful in his sales, his employers were well satisfied with him and reposed the utmost confidence in his honesty. He had not been heard from for a week, and a few days since the firm received information which confirmed their fears, that the guileless Meyers had suddenly ‘folded his tent like the Arab, and silently stole away,' taking with him some $360 belonging to the above firm, besides several smaller sums from various parties hereabouts. This fellow Meyers, alias Davis, is evidently no novice at this business, he having been engaged in several very questionable transactions in the Webfoot country, among others that of ‘skedadling’ with the funds belonging to the Italian Cione, while acting in the capacity of manager pro tem. Meyers, alias Davis, is a short thick-set man, about 5 feet 6 inches in height, with strongly marked Jewish features and a round bullet-head of a very peculiar shape, with hair cropped close; is very glib of tongue, and has the faculty of easily worming himself into the good graces of his victims. Look out for him.
“This fellow Meyers, alias Davis, is evidently no novice at this business... he has the faculty of easily worming himself into the good graces of his victims.”
Long before the age of digital identity theft, swindlers relied on the physical distance between small towns to reinvent themselves. This story of a man exploiting the trust of an established local mercantile firm resonates with the perennial anxiety of the growing city's business class—the fear that the next charismatic stranger might just be a con artist in disguise.
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