ARRIVING AT ELMORE, OHIO, STRANDED--RECEIVING
EIGHT DOLLARS ON A
PATENT-RIGHT SALE--DUNNED IN ADVANCE BY
THE LANDLORD--CHANGING
HOTELS--MY VISIT TO FREMONT--MEETING
MR. KEEFER AND BORROWING MONEY--OUR
VISIT TO FINDLAY--A BIG DEAL--LOSING
MONEY IN WHEAT--FOLLOWED BY
OFFICERS WITH A WRIT OF REPLEVIN--OUTWITTING
THEM--A FOUR-MILE
CHASE--HIDING OUR RIG IN A CELLAR.
I stopped at Bronson, where my wife
and boy were visiting her people and in a couple of
days we all started for Elmore, where we arrived bag
and baggage without a cent.
My wife said she couldn’t see
why I should want her to accompany me when I was meeting
with such poor success. I explained that it would
possibly come very handy to have her Saratoga trunk
along occasionally to help satisfy the landlords of
our responsibility.
“O, I see you want to sort of
pawn us, occasionally for hotel bills, don’t
you?”
“Well, yes,” I answered,
“it might be convenient to do so should we get
cornered.”
She said she didn’t think she
cared to be detained for hotel bills.
“Well, you wouldn’t see a fellow starve
would you?”
“No,” she replied, “but
if ever we are pawned I want you to try and
redeem us as soon as possible.”
We took quarters at one of the best
hotels, and the next day after our arrival a young
man came there selling ornamental stove-pipe hole covers
made of plaster of paris.
I made his acquaintance at once and
learned that he was from Battle Creek, Mich.,
where his father resided and owned a good property.
I asked his reason for engaging in
that business. He said his father suggested it
so that he would gain experience.
“Oh, I see, you are looking for experience.”
“Yes, that’s what I want.”
“Well sir,” I said, “you
are in a poor business to get experience. You
ought to get into the business I am in if you want
experience.”
“What is your business?”
he asked. I then introduced my model and explained
its merits.
He said he would like Calhoun County,
Mich., and asked the price. I looked the
map over and set the price at one hundred and fifty
dollars. He said he would like it, but hadn’t
money enough.
I asked how much he had.
After counting what he had he said eight dollars was
all he could spare.
“Well, I will take the eight
dollars and your note for one hundred and forty-two
dollars, payable three months after date.”
He agreed, and I made out the papers, receiving the
cash and note.
This amount of money, though small,
came just in the nick of time, because of the Saratoga-trunk
scheme not proving a success. In less than one
hour after I had made the deal, the landlord asked
me to pay in advance. I immediately flew into
a rage and demanded him to make out my bill for what
we had had and receipt it in full, which he did, and
I paid it with a flourish and with the air of a millionaire!
There was another hotel just across
the street, and when our landlord happened to step
out in front of his house and I noticed the landlord
of the opposite house also standing outside of his
door I at once took advantage of the situation and
began to abuse my landlord at a terrible rate for
his impertinence and cussed meanness and gave him to
distinctly understand that he would lose boarders
by the means.
I then called on the other landlord
and explained how his competitor had shown his narrow
ideas of running a hotel and how quickly he secured
his pay after demanding it and then asked if he could
give us accommodations. He said he could, and
we moved at once.
The new proprietor proved to be our
kind of a landlord. The next day Frank, who had
stopped off at Toledo, came on and joined us.
We left my family there and went over
to Fremont, where by accident we met Mr. Keefer and
my mother.
They asked how we were progressing.
I explained everything and “just how it all
happened.”
My mother said she thought we had
done splendidly. Mr. Keefer said: “It
did beat the dl.”
I then called him one side and began
negotiations for a hundred-dollar loan.
He explained that he was absolutely
hard up, but would be glad to help me if he could.
I then reminded him that his signature
at the bank would be all that was needed.
“Well,” said he, “I
believe you will come out all right some day, and I
guess I’ll sign with you if you think you can
meet it.”
We stepped into the bank and procured the money.
The next day Frank and I went over
to Findlay where we met a man selling a patent washing
machine. We there succeeded in effecting a trade
in our patent, and also found a customer for a large
sale on the washing machine, for which the agent paid
us liberally.
The two trades netted us thirteen
hundred dollars in cash and a fine horse, harness
and carriage.
We then drove over to Elmore, where
I had left my wife and boy. After leaving her
money enough to convince her that she would not be
pawned that week we started the next day eastward,
stopping at Fremont for supper about six o’clock.
We had traded the State of Illinois
in our patent to a gentleman in the lightning-rod
business, and that night while walking up street we
noticed a large crowd of men standing on the corner
talking.
We stepped across the street to see
what the excitement was.
On looking over the shoulders of the
men we saw our customer, the lightning-rod man, standing
there holding his pitchfork in one hand and valise
in the other. We were about to crowd in when we
heard him say:
“Well, if I can find them I
shall have them arrested and replevin the horse.”
Frank and I then held a short consultation.
Our first idea was to go to him and ascertain what
he meant by saying he would arrest us. We felt
certain we had violated no law, or at least had no
intention of doing so. But after reconsidering
the matter we concluded that he was simply a “squealer,”
and as we had made a square, fair trade with him we
decided to let him find us instead of our looking
for him.
Our experience of a few days before
with the writ of replevin had been a very good lesson.
We didn’t consider it worth while to deliberately
turn our stock over to “squealers,” when
they were taking so much pains to hunt us up, and
especially when we stopped to realize that in dealing
with a lightning-rod man it was simply a case of “diamond
cut diamond.” We therefore started East
that evening, arriving at Cleveland a few days later.
On reading the late daily papers which
we always made a practice of doing, we found several
long articles about two men visiting Findlay with
a patent right and how they had taken a handsome horse
and carriage and several thousand dollars in cash
for which they gave worthless deeds.
We also read a full description of
ourselves and the horse and buggy and that a liberal
reward would be paid for our capture and return to
Findlay.
We were at a loss to understand the
meaning of all this, and called on one of the best
lawyers in Cleveland and paid him ten dollars to examine
our Power of Attorney.
He pronounced it perfect, and said
we had complied with the law in having it recorded,
in our method of deeding, and in every other respect;
and said that the patentee was powerless to annul the
Power of Attorney, except by giving me thirty days’
notice.
We then concluded to give them a good
chase, before giving up the horse and carriage; for
though they had spent considerable money in trying
to capture us, we realized that the horse and buggy
were all we had to look out for, so far as concerned
any loss.
We stopped at a first-class hotel,
and enjoyed life hugely.
While there, we met an acquaintance
who had been speculating in wheat, and had made a
lot of money in a very short time.
He assured us that if we would let
him invest a portion of our cash the same as he was
intending to invest his own, we would leave Cleveland
with a barrel of money. Of course we hadn’t
thought of scooping it in by the barrel, and the idea
rather caught us.
Neither Frank nor myself had the slightest
conception of the method of speculating in that way.
And to this day, I am still as ignorant as then regarding
it, and have no desire to learn it.
Well, we let our friend invest five
hundred dollars, and in less than three days he called
on us for three hundred more, saying he must
have it to tide us over. Two days later he announced
to us the crushing fact that all was lost! His
cash as well as ours.
He then began urging us to try it
once more. Anxious to get back what we had lost,
we needed but little persuasion; and in less than one
week found ourselves about cleaned out. We had
speculated all we cared to; and after settling up
with the landlord, started west again with the horse
and buggy, to continue our patent-right business.
Wherever we stopped, we imagined every
time we saw a person approaching us, that it was an
officer with papers for our arrest, or a writ of replevin
for the horse and carriage. We cared more for
the writ than we did for the arrest, as we had by
this time posted ourselves as to the trouble and annoyance
it would cause us to allow them to get possession
of the rig. Besides, it had already become a question
whether we would out-general them or they us.
We realized that their reasons, whatever
they were, for demanding our arrest, were groundless.
So our only desire was to sell the whole outfit at
a good figure.
It would have paid us better in every
way to have turned it over to the men we had traded
with, and to have come to an understanding with them;
but we were too anxious to win, in the race we had
begun.
We had a great scare and narrow escape,
at a small inland town where we stopped just at dusk,
intending to remain over night.
While sitting in front of the hotel,
about nine o’clock that evening, several gentlemen
scrutinized us very sharply as they passed by.
Among them happened to be an old friend whom we had
known at Clyde. He asked what we had been doing
that the authorities had a right to arrest us, adding
that two men were at that very moment looking up an
officer for that purpose.
We gave immediate orders for our horse
to be hitched up, and hastily informed our friend
of the facts. He said there must be some reason
for the Findlay authorities wanting us, as they had
offered a reward of a hundred dollars for us, and
twenty-five for the horse and buggy.
We started west at a rapid gait.
It was a beautiful moonlight night,
and we had not traveled far till we saw coming after
us two men on horseback, riding rapidly. We drove
but a few rods farther when we came to a steep hill,
at the bottom of which was a cross-road extending
in both directions through the woods, and a large
bridge crossing a river just west of the road-crossing.
We drove down the embankment and under the bridge
into the river, and there awaited the coming of the
two men. They stopped on the bridge, and there
held a consultation We heard one of them say:
“I wonder which way the devils went, anyhow?”
“Well,” the other remarked,
“they are traveling west, and it’s quite
likely they have crossed the bridge.”
Just as they were about to start again
our horse pawed in the water, and at once attracted
their attention.
One of them stopped, and said; “Wait
a minute. I heard a noise under the bridge.”
At this they both stopped, and, as
we supposed, were about to make an investigation,
when I dropped the reins, and raising my hands to my
mouth, made a noise like the bellowing of a “critter.”
One of them said:
“Oh, come on. It’s nothing but a old cow!”
They then started across the bridge,
greatly to our relief and satisfaction.
After a few moments’ delay we
returned to the cross-roads, and started south, traveling
but a short distance when we again turned west.
We now began to realize that they
were making it quite lively for us, and decided to
sell the whole rig at any price.
We drove to within about a mile of
Norwalk, when I alighted and walked into the town
for the purpose of finding a buyer.
Frank drove to a small inland town
eight miles south of Norwalk, where I agreed to meet
him the next day.
The following morning I met a middle-aged
gentleman on the streets, and asked him if there were
any horse-buyers in town. He asked what kind of
horses I had for sale. I told him I only had one,
and gave a description of the animal.
He said he was buying horses, and
would drive out with me and see if we could deal.
He hitched up a pair of horses, and
taking another gentleman with us, started south.
Upon arriving at our destination, we found Frank quartered
at a nice country hotel.
The two men looked our whole outfit
over, scrutinizing it very closely, and showed no
signs of wanting to buy, and did not even ask our price.
I then said:
“Gentlemen, we will sell you this whole rig
cheap, if you wish it.”
Finally, after I had repeated several
times that I would sell it dirt-cheap, the old gentleman
ventured to ask what I considered cheap?
“Well, sir,” said I, “you
can have the whole outfit for twelve hundred dollars.”
“Great Heavens!” he exclaimed. “Do
you call that cheap?”
“Well,” I answered, “you needn’t
buy unless you want to.”
They then drove off, when I said:
“Frank, those men have had a
full description of us and our rig, and we’d
better skip.”
Frank said he had a trade about worked
up with the landlord’s father, who lived three
miles from there. He wanted to trade a fine horse
for our carriage, and thought it best to take our
chances of staying to close it up.
After dinner the landlord accompanied
us to his father’s farm. We had to travel
one mile west and two north. On our way there,
and about a half mile from town, we had a conversation
with a young farmer acquaintance of the landlord,
who said if we didn’t make a deal as we expected,
he would give us a trade of some kind on our way back.
On reaching the farm we found a handsome four-year-old
colt unbroken, but as we could see, a valuable animal.
We traded our carriage for it and
a cheap saddle and bridle. When we came to look
the carriage over we found an iron brace broken, and
the bargain was, that we were to take it back to town
and pay for getting it repaired, and then leave it
in care of the landlord.
We started back, the landlord and
myself walking and leading the colt, while Frank drove
our horse and buggy.
When we reached the young farmer’s
place above-mentioned, he came out to the gate; and
after we were several rods past the house, called to
the landlord, who went back.
I noticed that the farmer talked in
a very loud tone till the landlord got close to him,
when he then spoke very low.
Just then Frank came driving up, when I said:
“There’s something in
the wind. I’ll bet that farmer has talked
with some one since we went up there, who has told
him about the patent-right deal.”
I then explained the actions of the
farmer. Frank said it did look a little suspicious,
but thought it might possibly be a mistake. As
a matter of caution Frank drove on to the hotel, where
he unhitched the horse, and prepared to start on horseback
as soon as we arrived with the colt, which I was to
ride.
As soon as the landlord returned to
where I was, he showed considerable anxiety and nervousness,
which convinced me more than ever that I was correct
in my surmises.
He talked but little, on our way to
the hotel. When we arrived there his wife came
out and had a private talk with him, I then said:
“Well, landlord, we will allow
you one dollar for the carriage repairs and you can
have it done yourself.”
At that I reached out for the halter-strap,
to take possession of the colt.
“Well, see here,” said
he, excitedly, “there is something wrong.
Two men have been here looking for you.”
“Where are they?” I asked.
“Well,” said he, “they
have no doubt gone one mile too far west, in trying
to get to my father’s farm, and have missed us.”
I stepped to the middle of the road,
and looking west, saw in the distance a team with
two men coming. I called for Frank to hitch up
again, at once, fully realizing the uselessness of
trying to take the colt and leave the buggy, and that
there was no time to argue or explain matters to the
satisfaction of the landlord.
When I had paid our hotel bill, and
gotten the valise containing our shirts (which
we clung to with a bull-dog tenacity, owing to our
late shirtless experience) I hurried to
the barn, where I found Frank had the horse between
the shafts, and we hitched him up in a space of time
that would have done credit to an expert Fire-engine
Company.
Only one side of the shafts was supported
by the harness, and we did not stop to fasten the
hold-back straps, nor to put the lines through the
terret, nor tie the hitching strap. But the instant
the traces were fastened and the lines were in the
buggy, we jumped in, and none too soon, either, for
just as we turned our horse in the road the two men
came driving around the corner. We started south,
with our horse on a dead run and under the whip, followed
by them with their horses under full speed, and also
under the whip.
The race was indeed exciting, on a
Macadamized road as smooth and hard as a floor.
I drove, using the whip freely, while Frank stood up
in the carriage, facing the men, swinging his hat
and yelling like a wild Indian. They kept up
the chase for about four miles, we making a turn at
every cross-road, first west then south, and kept it
up till we saw they were slacking their gait, when
we also gave our horse a rest.
We then proceeded west, driving till
very late that night, and arriving at the house of
a farmer acquaintance of mine, five miles from Clyde,
about midnight. I called him up and explained
matters. He said we should put the horse in the
barn, and stay with him two or three days, till we
saw how things were.
We told him that his neighbors would
very soon learn that he had a horse and carriage there,
and would necessarily have to have an explanation as
to the ownership.
We then suggested putting the whole
rig, horse and all, into the cellar, which we did;
and then remained there three days, eating spring chickens
and new potatoes. We paid our friend’s wife
three dollars per day for keeping us and our horse,
besides fifty cents apiece for young chickens which
were about one-third grown. This was twenty-five
cents more than she could have gotten for them had
she kept them till they were full grown. Yet
she worried a great deal about killing off her young
chickens. Every time she cooked one for us she
would declare that she didn’t believe it paid,
and she wouldn’t kill any more till they grew
to full size.
We undertook to argue her out of the
idea, by showing how many bushels of corn each chicken
would eat before fall, and the low price it would
bring at that time.
She said: “It didn’t
make any difference. Common sense taught her that
a chicken wasn’t worth as much when it was one-third
grown as when full grown, and she didn’t care
to sell us any more.”