He said he would like Calhoun County, Mich., and asked the price. I looked the map over and set the price at one hundred and fifty dollars. He said he would like it, but hadn't money enough.
I asked how much he had.
After counting what he had he said eight dollars was all he could spare.
"Well, I will take the eight dollars and your note for one hundred and forty-two dollars, payable three months after date."
He agreed, and I made out the papers, receiving the cash and note.
This amount of money, though small, came just in the nick of time, because of the Saratoga-trunk scheme not proving a success. In less than one hour after I had made the deal, the landlord asked me to pay in advance. I immediately flew into a rage and demanded him to make out my bill for what we had had and receipt it in full, which he did, and I paid it with a flourish and with the air of a millionaire!
There was another hotel just across the street, and when our landlord happened to step out in front of his house and I noticed the landlord of the opposite house also standing outside of his door I at once took advantage of the situation and began to abuse my landlord at a terrible rate for his impertinence and cussed meanness and gave him to distinctly understand that he would lose boarders by the means.
I then called on the other landlord and explained how his competitor had shown his narrow ideas of running a hotel and how quickly he secured his pay after demanding it and then asked if he could give us accommodations. He said he could, and we moved at once.
The new proprietor proved to be our kind of a landlord. The next day Frank, who had stopped off at Toledo, came on and joined us.
We left my family there and went over to Fremont, where by accident we met Mr. Keefer and my mother.