6
the "Tribune" fought him. Among other things, Dunne said that the "Tribune" was not acting in the best interests of the city. To this the "Tribune" replied with a lengthy editorial in which it said:
When Mayor Dunne fills the school board with scare-brains, anarchists and fools, he is not acting in the best interests of the city. When he packs the police department with ex-convicts, crooks and gamblers, he is not acting in the best interests of the city.
Dunne had been a judge on the bench. He thought he knew law. To him this clearly spelled libel. And he actually started suit against the "Chicago Tribune" for $100,000. But before he'd gone very far some of his good newspaper friends took him to one side and said. "Edward, don't make a fool of yourself." And he asked why. Then they quickly pointed out to him that the offending editorial said: "WHEN Mayor Dunne fills the school board with scare-brains, anarchists and fools; and WHEN he packs the police department with ex-convicts, crooks and gamblers." It didn't say he had done it at all. What it did say was that when he DID act in this way—should he ever be guilty of such conduct—he would not be acting in the city's best interests. And Dunne had to agree with the "Tribune." He dropped the case. The "Tribune" did not go into court. That was a modern trick of the press.
When reading your newspaper you sometimes come across headlines after this fashion:
STATE BANK CASHIER
ABSCONDS WITH FUNDS?
But few of you notice the interrogation point at the end of that sentence. That takes all the sting out of the libel—so far as the newspaper is concerned. In reality the paper states something; it can prove in court that it merely asked a question. Here are some samples:
I hold in my hand the "Kansas City Times" for Monday, July 25, 1910. On the first page are five declaratory headlines—each followed by an interrogation point. I'll read two of them:
