I was completely non-plussed, and I don't recollect ever having been placed in closer quarters, or in a position where I felt more humiliated. I thought of Albert's draft, and stepping up to him said in a low tone as quickly as possible:
"Give me your draft and I'll get it cashed at the Sherman House."
He replied that it was in the hotel safe. I came near fainting, then finally said:
"Ladies, please excuse me one moment. I'll call a carriage."
So saying I stepped across the street, wondering on the way what I would do. I had no watch to leave as security, nor a piece of jewelry of any kind. Every thing of this sort was used by me as stock in trade. I knew better than to ask for credit, and realized that my life would be in danger to hire a carriage and undertake to "stave them off" afterwards.
So the reader will readily understand that I was at my wits' end; but at the last moment my senses came to me, and I instantly thought of a scheme to help us out. I asked a hack-man what he would charge to take us to a certain street and number on the West Side. He said two dollars. He might as well have said two hundred. I at once found fault with the price, and managed to get into an altercation with him and three or four others, and talked loud enough for Albert and the young ladies to hear.
As I approached them I did so in a very excited manner, with my hat in one hand and a large empty pocket-book in the other, and roundly cursing all the cab-men in Chicago.
"What's the matter?" asked one of the girls.
"Matter? Great Heavens! Do you suppose I'll give seven dollars to one of these robbers to carry us over on the West Side?"
"Indeed you will not," shouted the brave little lady. "We'll walk."