The Ice Water Gambit: How a Seattle Drifter Was Framed for Theft
A local vagrant was doused in freezing water and coerced into a false confession by a cunning runner, only to be caught red-handed on Third Street.
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.
Yesterday morning a vagrant, 28 years old, who has been at the Central Depot of the Northern Pacific Railroad for several days, was taken into custody by a clever runner after finding work.
"Haven't I walked from Bellingham and from the Chief," whined the visitor, "I'm willing to do anything to make a living. I'll shovel snow, clean out cars, drive drays—hang it! I'll jump into the river for pay."
The runner of course had aside and told him of a plan by which he could make a raise of cash. The vagrant agreed and was taken into an alley off Front Street. The runner drew a pail of ice water, seated the vagrant on a box, and said:
"It'll take about lots of water to wet you up, but there's money in it. As soon as I've got you good and strong you can run around on Third Street, say that you fell into the river and lost a gold watch and $50, and the crowd will take up a collection. Shut your teeth now."
He lifted the pail of ice water and dashed it over his fellow-conspirator. There was very loud enough to be heard at the depot, and the vagrant almost jumped out of his boots.
"Wh-wh-what's the pl-eece—boil on —inur he y-jayed as the icy currents ran through his spins! Clothes."
"Keep still there, black hat! Collect the collection!" ordered the runner.
"I a-n't —joh—Lordy —ouch-wh-op. Where's stove—where's a fire?"
"You won't make a cent, pretense," said the runner.
"I can't help it! I don't care for money. Got me somewhere where I can warm up, and I'll roast Canada in the ice instead of two hours' I can stand kicks, frost-bites, and hunger, but—"
He galloped down the alley just ahead of the sentinel's jailful, and as he passed off Third Street and turned up into Woodland a drayman struck at him with a stick and cried out:
"Stop that punkin' imp!" said the railroad post.
Dummy, the Newsboy.
Last week there is in a family that had been mourning for six, seven years "Dummy," the deaf and dumb newsboy on the Long Island Railroad, was recognized as the lost child of a respectable family in Fitchburg, Mass. In 1870 Dummy was stolen away from his home and motherless family, but, having been houseless, went about to make his used track... [Text continues with unrelated story about a newsboy].
This 1877 account of a 'runner' (a private detective or bounty hunter) framing a homeless man for theft highlights the precarious legal status of the poor in early Seattle. The use of coercion and physical intimidation to extract a confession mirrors modern concerns about police misconduct and the vulnerability of unhoused populations to exploitation.
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