"STOP THAT MAN! STOP THAT MAN."
I kept looking back, and had just begun to congratulate myself on my success, when suddenly my horse came to a full stop, and I landed forward astride his neck, hanging on by his mane. I then discovered a large policeman holding him by the bit.
I dismounted, and as the gentleman who had been running behind came up to where we were, the police officer said to him:
"Mr. Cavanaugh, what shall I do with the horse?"
"Take him back to the stable, for the time being," was the answer.
I then said:
"I now recognize you as the gentleman and detective whom I was introduced to a few weeks ago by an acquaintance from Bronson, Mich., at which place I believe you formerly resided, and where I married my wife."
"Sure enough," he answered. "Your wife and I were school children together. Johnston is your name."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, great Heavens! you're no horse-thief!"
"Well, who in thunder said I was? I am sure I never said so," was my reply.
"What have you painted this horse for?" he inquired.
"Well, I guess I'll have to tell you privately," I answered.
We then walked along together, and I explained everything.
"Well, this case," said he, "has been reported to the Captain of Police; and I guess you'd better go over to his office and explain matters, and a note from him to the proprietor of the sale-stable will help you to dispose of the horse."
We visited the Captain, to whom I explained, and as proof of my statement produced my papers and some newspaper clippings.
The Captain said if I was sleek enough to trade a lightning-rod agent out of a horse with a patent right, I ought to be pensioned. He said he'd send word to the stable-man that it was all right, which I suppose he did. At any rate, I sold out to the proprietor inside of an hour.
I then decided to go immediately to Findlay and see what grounds they had for wanting to arrest us.
On arriving there I spent about three hours in trying to find an officer who would recognize me, and possibly place me under arrest. Not successful in this, I looked for and found an officer, with whom I managed to get into conversation, and was obliged to tell him plainly who I was, before he would "take a tumble," as the saying is.
He then said he knew all about the trade, and was acquainted with the men, and the circumstances of their offering the reward.
"Well, now," said I, "you arrest me, and we'll get the reward."
"But," said he, "the men you traded with have left town."
I asked if he knew why they had offered a reward for us.
He said it was because the Patentee had arrived on the scene the day after our trade, and had remarked that Johnston had no authority to deed away territory in his patent; for the reason that the Power of Attorney had a clause in it which read as follows: "This Power of Attorney is revocable in thirty days from the day it is given by the said Patentee." They then concluded to try and arrest us, and if successful possibly make us pay handsomely, or prosecute us.
This bit of information was relished by me, for I at once saw that the Patentee had gotten things badly mixed. The clause he referred to, which was the one mentioned in another chapter, read as follows: "This Power of Attorney is revocable on thirty days' notice from the said Patentee."
Having satisfied myself, and several acquaintances of the men we had dealt with, that we had not violated the law, I returned to Toledo, where I met Frank, who had disposed of the carriage and harness.
He left me there; and one evening at the supper table I entered into conversation with several gentlemen, one of whom related a few incidents of his experience, when I also related my late experience in selling copal varnish.
An old gentleman across the table from me then said that he had a recipe for making a furniture and piano polish that was immense. He said it would leave a beautiful hard lustre, was not sticky or gummy to the fingers, and would remove all white stains from furniture, and become perfectly dry in less than one minute from the time it was applied.
"Well, sir," I said, "I am looking for some thing of that kind, and——"
"Very well," he interrupted; "it will cost you twenty-five dollars."
I said: "I'll you five dollars before testing it."
"No, sir; not one dollar less than my price."
But he would make up a small bottle, and show me how it worked. He did so, and I was at once convinced.
I then dickered a while with him, and after satisfying myself that I could buy it for no less than his price, purchased it; and have always considered it a good investment. An Incorporated Manufacturing Company of this city now use the same recipe, supplying agents in all parts of the country.
I immediately visited Elmore, where my wife and boy still remained. After paying their board and a doctor's bill for the boy, I took a run down to Clyde, arriving there "broke."
I had a long talk with my folks, and explained "just how it all happened."
My mother said she thought I had made a splendid record for a boy with a family.
Mr. Keefer said, "It did beat the devil."
CHAPTER XVIII.
MR. KEEFER CALLED FROM HOME—MY MOTHER REFUSES ME A LOAN—PEDDLING FURNITURE POLISH ON FOOT—HAVING MY FORTUNE TOLD—MY TRIP THROUGH MICHIGAN—ARRESTED FOR SELLING WITHOUT LICENSE—"IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS"—COLLAPSED—A GOOD MORAL—MAKING A RAISE.
I remained at home but a day or two, during which time Mr. Keefer was called away on business, leaving my mother and myself to discuss the future together. I told her of my varnish experience, and about my recipe for the piano and furniture polish, and assured her that I had made a firm resolution never to sell another patent right.
She said she was glad to hear that, as it had worried her night and day during the whole time I was in that business.
I then suggested that she loan me money enough to invest in a few bottles of polish.
"Not one cent, sir."
"Well," said I, "it won't take but about—"
"No matter," she interrupted, "if it won't take but ten cents you will not get it from me. You have had the last cent from us you will ever get."
I remarked that I was sorry pa had gone away.
She said it wouldn't matter, anyhow, for she had laid down the law to him, and he would never let me have another dollar.
"Well," I asked, "won't you give me money enough to get out of town?"
"No, sir; if five cents would take you to California, you should walk it before I'd give you that amount."
I then asked if she didn't think I was getting in rather close quarters?
"Well," she exclaimed, "you have always been determined to 'hus'le,' so now keep 'hus'ling.'"
I then called on an old friend whom I had been owing for several years, and after explaining my circumstances, borrowed three dollars, with which I repaired to a drug store and procured a stock of ingredients and bottles required for my Furniture and Piano Polish.
I then returned home, and after explaining to my mother that it would take till the next day to prepare it, asked her if she would care if I staid at her house one more night.
She laughed, and said she guessed she could stand it that long.
I then said:
"By gracious, you will have to give me money enough to get to the next town, for I won't dare commence peddling polish where I am acquainted."
"Indeed I'll not give you a penny, even though you have to commence at our next-door neighbor's," she answered.
The next day, when my bottles were filled ready for a start, I discovered that I had no valise.
My mother said I could have that old carpet-bag that I took to New York when I was a boy, and which had been expressed back to me with my old clothes. I told her I thought it would be about what I needed, but if she had the slightest idea she could sell it, or would ever need it to make me a visit in the far west when I got rich, that I might possibly get along without it.
She said I could rest assured that she wasn't quite so hard up as to be obliged to sell it, and if she had to wait for me to get rich before using it, she probably would never have occasion to do so.
I then visited the garret, where my mother said I would find the old bag.
As I entered the dark, gloomy place, my vision encountered innumerable relics of my past life, in the shape of toys, books, papers, skates cart-wheels, pieces of hobby-horses, and remnants of garments made by my mother and worn by me years before.
I thought of the days gone by, and the many pleasant hours I had spent at the old farm house. While I was occupied with play and enjoyment, my mother busying herself with family cares, and endeavoring to draw from me my ideas of the business or profession I would adopt when I reached manhood.
There flitted through my mind the many kind things she had said and done for me, in trying to gratify my desires and boyish whims. I was reminded that although she had often opposed me in my ideas of "hus'ling," and was at that very time refusing to aid me, she had always been a devoted mother, with a kind and forgiving disposition, and had never ceased to show her anxiety for my welfare.
I realized that there must be a reason, best known to herself, for withholding aid from me at this time.
I then began rummaging about for the old carpet-bag, which I found hanging in a remote corner, amongst cobwebs and bunches of balm and sage. As I gazed on the companion of my first railroad trip, there flashed through my mind, with lightning-like rapidity, the three weeks of joys and sorrows we had shared together while in New York. The many ups and downs I had experienced since that time, forced themselves upon my memory, while it had been silently resting and apparently awaiting my return to accompany me on another search for fortune.
Among other things I saw hanging there was a half-worn-out, dried-up bunch of blue-beech switches.
How many times had they tickled my young hide for a breach of home discipline!
I took them in my hand, and as I gazed upon those silent reminders of the past, I said triumphantly:
"You clung to me like a brother. Your reign is over. Your day is past, while mine is just dawning. Farewell; I cherish you not. No fond memories cling around my recollections of you. The lessons you endeavored to convey were no doubt good, but, alas! they fell on barren soil. Farewell, farewell."
And heaving a heavy sigh, I hung them on the nail, picked up my carpet-bag, and descended from the garret.
After packing the old carpet-bag with bottles, I announced my readiness for the grand start. My mother commenced crying, and asked if I didn't think I'd better take a lunch along, in case of necessity. I said I guessed not, as she might be robbing herself to give me so much all at one time.
I bade her good bye, and I when I had gotten to the front gate she called me back, and said if I would hitch one of the horses to the carriage she would take me to Green Creek bridge, five miles out, where I could begin operations among strangers.
This me pleased me immensely, and I lost no time in carrying out her suggestion.
She drove west on the pike to the bridge, when I announced my readiness and anxiety to commence business, as it was then four o'clock and I must make a raise of a few shillings for expenses for the night.
I shall never forget the expression of solicitude and determination shown in her face as she bade me good bye, and turned to leave me; and I have since congratulated her for the firm, decisive stand she took. I have often related this incident as one of the best things that ever happened to me.
As soon as she started homeward I took the other direction.
I was mad; and the more I thought of her treatment of me the madder I got, and the more I 'hus'led.'
At the first house I called, the old lady said she hadn't any money, but would tell my fortune for a bottle of polish.
"Well, great Heavens!" I yelled, "go ahead, you never can tell my fortune at a better time."
She shuffled the cards, and said I'd never do manual labor, and I was going to be rich. I would have two wives, and no telling how many children. I had had a great many ups and downs, and would have some more; but would eventually settle down. I asked if I would ever be hung. She said, "No, sir."
During the interview she learned from me of my father's dying before I was born. That, she said, was always a sure sign of good fortune, and a bright future was always in store for a child born under such circumstances.
I finally asked her if she could tell where I was going to stay that night. She said she couldn't, but would wager that I wouldn't sleep in a freight car, nor go without my supper.
I gave her a bottle of polish, and made another start, calling at the next house just as the family were about to take supper.
I rushed in, set my carpet-bag down, and laying off my hat, said in a jocular manner:
"By gracious, I'm just in time, for once."
