The boy grinned. “I’m takin’ this ’ere home ter my mudder,” he said. “She don’t want gold; she’d ruther have a bag of Injun meal.”
“See here,” the man said, suddenly. “I used to have a big merchant tailoring establishment. My men all left me and I had to close up, but I’ve got lots of cloth. If you’ll just milk that goat before you kill it, and let me take the milk home to my baby, I’ll make you a suit of clothes with my own hands.”
The boy looked down at his ragged togs, then at Burton. “You’re witness,” he said. “It’s er bargain.”
The episode gave Burton a bright idea. In a couple of hours he had secured a large store on Market Street and put out a sign: “Labor Exchange. A Way Out Of Our Present Difficulties.”
He had not long to wait for visitors. The city was full of idle people, and they flocked to learn what the new idea was.
The first inquirer said:
“I’ve got a house half built. I want it completed. Have you got any carpenters that want a job?”
“What’s your business?” asked Burton.
“I’m a baker.”
“Would you be willing to pay for your labor in bread?”