While at Napoleon, we had been in correspondence with several parties in different towns, who were known to me as traders. After spending two weeks there, we received a letter requesting us to visit a neighboring town, where there was a prospect for a good trade. We had succeeded in selling one Township right, which brought us cash enough for incidental expenses.
Hence we were unable to pay our hotel bill, and as the landlord was not in the office when we were ready to go, we simply left a note saying we would return later.
We were gone two weeks, barely paying expenses, and returned to Napoleon. Rushing into the hotel office, we grasped the landlord by both hands, saying: "Did you think we had jumped our board bill, landlord?"
"Well, by golly, I didn't know what to think of it."
"Oh, pshaw! You ought to know us by this time. How are the nice cream biscuit? Suppose you've got some for tea, haven't you? Guess we'll wash. Put us down for a good room, landlord. How are the folks, landlord?"
He said he had thought all the time we would turn up again, some day. We then explained the nature of our business, and told him he needn't be surprised if we left suddenly at any time; but he could always look for us back, sooner or later. We remained two weeks longer, with about the same success that had attended us before.
One day the landlord pulled a chair up by me, in the office, and said very mildly and pleasantly,
"Mr. Johnston, I have never yet asked you for money, and——"
"No," I quickly interrupted, "you never have, and I certainly respect you for it. If there is anything on this earth I dislike, it is a penurious, suspicious, narrow-minded landlord—always dunning his guests, and treating them like tramps. And I'd leave a man's house as soon as I could settle up and get out, if I was ever dunned by him."