But the die was now cast with the defaulter, and no repentance could make atonement to offended justice. Thus far, his attempts to relieve himself from the first deficiency, had not only been unavailing, but had led him deeper into difficulty. Something more must be done, or the fatal hour of disclosure must come. The general would soon lose all patience, as well as all confidence. Should he implicate him, and clear his own skirts? No—that thought was too repugnant to his honorable feelings, it would be unjust, for if the general knew his default, he had no hand in creating it, and if, he allowed him time to escape its consequences by retrieving it, it was the kindliness resulting from old associations. It was his own want of prudence in the first place, and of skill in the second, that placed him where he was. But something more must be done. And what should he do? The finale of his Apalachi land stock, was not yet realised; he thought well of it—he thought well of all land speculations. Yes, the landed interest, must, in this country, as in every other, in time, become the wealthiest—cities were springing up every day—fortunes were made in a moment—there could be no loss—the land would not run away—the Wall-street sharpers could not “flunk” him there.
RESOLVES—AND GOES AHEAD.
Yes, he’d try a land speculation, east and west—honest man!—he never thought how much easier it was for one of these landlopers, to make a city in the woods on paper, than to be at the trouble of cutting the timber all down, and building it up again into houses, stores, churches, and academies. And that even a flowing river with beautiful falls, and “mill privileges,” with fertile valleys skirting its chrystal waters, could be made, where nature had never taken that trouble, in a thousandth part of the time that De Witt Clinton could make a sluggish canal. In short he wanted the experience, which has proved these Yankee land speculators to be the genuine breed of land-sharks, which sailors so much detest for their cunning, and voracious propensities, and who, to use one of their own descriptions of themselves—“are as much sharper, than a Wall-street sharper, as a Wall-street sharper, is sharper than a needle.” But the decision once made by the defaulter, his practice was to go ahead, and he usually left out the preliminary of the renowned Crocket, as implying a disagreeable necessity. If he was not wrong, he must be right, was the result of his logical reasoning; and certainly, no more self-evident conclusion was ever drawn from premises.
With the accuracy of judgment, therefore, which might be expected in such a case, he bought lands, to a very large extent, in various sections of the country, along with the most respectable companies, and from the handsomest drawn maps he could find.
An anecdote occurred about this time, which I believe has once got into the newspapers, but it is too good not to be repeated here, especially, as it will show to future generations, the value of a clean and handsomely drawn map—in other words, that it is better to do things well, than to do them clumsily.
ANECDOTE.
The defaulter had in his possession, a title to an old soldier’s patent, the papers of which had been carried in a dirty pocket book, and handled with dirty hands, until the location of the patent could hardly be distinguished on the map. It had been “thrown in to him,” to bind a bargain with some speculators, much the same as a huckster woman puts on to the measure too peaches more, when she sees her customer about to depart. He esteemed it of very little value, and thought no more of it, until one day a stalwart Yankee, with slouched hat, came into his office, and, says he, “mister hain’t you got a piece of land there in Miss-soori, up on the Black river. Yes, was the reply, after a moment’s reflection.”
A YANKEE.
“Well mister, what will you take now, for that are land?”
The defaulter, who had begun to understand, a little of the mode of bargaining practiced by these men, answered “a thousand dollars,” though he would have accepted five hundred.