Stolen bicycle

Early bicycle magazines had no shame when it came to articles
trumpeting the value of advertising.

The Pope Company, a heavy advertiser in the magazine, also got a good
deal of publicity out of this article about a stockbroker who trusted
a used-bike, returned the stolen bike to its owner, and hunted down
the thief.

***

"Mr. E. A. Fairchild [of New York in 1892], while he is a dealer in
the illusive [sic] oil certificate and a fighter of bulls and bears
upon the door of the Consolidated Exchange, is nevertheless a great
believer in advertising, and because of this belief he is to-day just
$100 better off than he was one week ago."

"Several months ago Mr. Fairchild wanted to purchase a wheel, so he
took up a paper and looked for the advertisement of someone who was
anxious to sell one."

"He found there were several wheelmen willing to dispose of the 'best
machine in the world' for just a little bit of ready money, and
finally purchased one from a nice, smooth-faced, smooth-spoken young
man, who signed the receipt for the purchase money as 'T. J. Lumsden.'

"Still reading advertisements, he was astonished one day to see a
notice that just the wheel he had bought had been stolen from a rider
in Brooklyn."

"He at once wrote the advertiser, and, finding he had purchased a
stolen machine, returned it to its legitimate owner, and was in
consequence just $50 out of pocket from his belief in advertising."

[Damned honest fellow! A bicycle back then was roughly as valuable as
a horse.]

"This naturally took some of the enthusiasm out of him, but he still
stuck to his opinions regarding the merits of advertising, despite the
chaffing he got from the brokers on the floor of the Exchange."

"Finally he saw another advertisement, which read very much like the
one that had trapped him, and he went on a still hunt for the man who
inserted it."

"Calling upon Mr. Edward Peters, an ex-captain of the Kings County
Wheelmen and an old-time racing man, he explained the case to him,
and, exhibiting his receipt from Lumsden, asked to have the
handwriting compared with that of the person who had inserted the
advertisement."

"This was done and it was found to correspond exactly, and then Mr.
Fairchild turned detective, and haunted the newspaper office, waiting
for someone to call for answers to the advertisement."

[The bike thief was still advertising stolen bikes on the equivalent
of Craigslist!]

"Finally a dashing looking young lady came for them, and when she went
out Mr. Fairchild followed her, and finding where she lived
transferred his watch to that neighborhood and was rewarded eventually
by seeing the same slick gentleman who had sold him the stolen wheel
go into the house."

[Beautiful woman added for excitement.]

"A detective was called, Mr. Lumsden was arrested, convicted and
sentenced to one year in the Elmira Reformatory, and Mr. Fairchild was
content."

[Hard to imagine a modern bike thief doing a year in jail.]

"Just here, though, is where he slipped up in not continuing his
reading of advertisements, for if be had done so he would have learned
that the Pope Manufacturing Company wanted to pay him $100 for the
recovery of a stolen Columbia wheel and the conviction of the thief."

[Yes, the Pope Company people advertised and paid $100 to anyone who
caught someone stealing a Columbia bicycle.]

"Though Mr. Fairchild overlooked this fact, Elliot Mason did not, and
promptly forwarded him a check for the amount, thanking him at the
same time for his persistency and trouble in the matter."

"When Mr. Fairchild received this unexpected reward for his services,
he took great delight In transferring the laugh to those who had
formerly jeered at him, aud proceeded to invest the $100 and some more
besides in a brand new Columbia which he was sure was not stolen."

"Thus everyone in the matter, except Lumsden, was satisfied that
advertising was a paying investment."

--Sporting Life, Feb. 6th, 1892, p. 8

http://la84foundation.org/SportsLibr.../SL1819008.pdf

An example of the Pope $100 reward ads:
http://i45.tinypic.com/2afkc3d.jpg

Cheers,

Carl Fogel