"All aboard going east!" shouted the conductor, and, quickly settling my bill and bidding the Doctor good-bye, I left him and the waiter to settle the quail question.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A CO-PARTNERSHIP FORMED IN THE AUCTION BUSINESS—HOW IT ENDED—A NEW FRIEND—HIS GENEROSITY—EXHIBITING A TALKING MACHINE—IT FAILED TO TALK—HOW I ENTERTAINED THE AUDIENCE—IN THE ROLE OF A PHRENOLOGIST.
On my return home I met an old acquaintance who had just sold out his grocery and was anxious to invest with me in the auction business. We very soon formed a co-partnership, he furnishing one thousand dollars and I five hundred.
We opened at Upper Sandusky, in a store room, with a stock of notions, hosiery and underwear, but from the very first began losing money. The roads were very muddy, and it rained day in and day out. The weather was warm and there was no demand for our goods. We moved from one town to another with but poor success, hoping for cold weather and a demand for sox and underwear. However, "luck," as we called it, was against us, and when spring came we invoiced and found ourselves with about six hundred dollars' worth of stock on hand.
I then made clear to him that at the rate we had been losing money, we would probably have about five hundred dollars cash after winding up provided we commenced at once and sold out as soon as possible. I suggested that we do so, and I would turn that amount over to him, which would leave us each just five hundred dollars out of pocket for the winter's work.
Hank said he was perfectly satisfied, and I should go on and close out, and he would go home and attend to other business.
I worked into Indiana, and succeeded in finishing just about as we had figured on, for after sending him the last remittance to make up the five hundred dollars, I had about four dollars in cash and an old trunk left.