So far so good. But what about the seat on the Grain Exchange? The price of it was $2,500. One thousand shares of the company's stock had been disposed of with ten per cent. paid up and from the $2,500 thus realized the expenses of organization had to be met, the charter paid for, the legal fee and expenses at Ottawa in connection with the effort to secure a Dominion charter, office rent, printing bills and what not.
"Which leaves us about $1,000 to buy a $2,500 seat and finance our first business operations," said John Spencer with the look of a worried Secretary-Treasurer.
"We'll have to issue a twenty per cent. call on subscribed stock," admitted the President reluctantly. "In the meantime I'll have to see if some of the boys out at Sintaluta will go security for the fifteen hundred. Thank heaven, these fellows down here think we're a hilarious joke! The only chance we've got to get through the fence with this thing is for them to keep right on laughing at us till we get our toes in the sand!"
He wrote to Sintaluta, explaining the situation, and five of E. A. Partridge's friends[2] at once responded by going to the bank with their personal notes for the amount needed.
"With support like that we're going to win, boys," cried the President proudly when the bank notified them that the money was available.
Financial arrangements were established with the Bank of British North
America and when a room had been rented on the top floor of the old
Tribune building and circulars sent broadcast among the farmers,
soliciting grain, the wheels began to turn.
The little office was opened for business on September 5th (1906). It was so small that even two or three people got in each other's way, though all they were doing was to watch the mails anxiously for the first indications as to whether the farmers would stand behind the big idea that was now put to the test. Then came the bill of lading for the first carload of grain consigned to the new company, followed quickly by the second, the third, fourth, fifth, sixth—two at a time, three, ten, fifteen per day! Every foot of space in the little office was a busy spot and the lone typewriter clickety-clacked on the second-hand table with cheerful disregard of lunch hours. By the end of the month the weekly receipts had risen to one hundred cars of grain.
It became necessary to move to a larger office and accommodation was obtained in the Henderson Block. At the present rate, a whole floor would be needed soon.
Over at the Grain Exchange some men were talking seriously. They were talking about E. A. Partridge and they were not laughing. The Secretary of the Exchange was instructed to write a letter.
Partridge hit the desk so hard that the paper-knife with which he had sliced open that letter hopped to the floor.