He wore a boot three sizes too large, and gave as a reason for this, that if a horse happened to step on his feet it wouldn't hurt his toes.
I often laughed at this foolish whim, and failed to quite understand him. We remained together until we "collapsed," at Bowling Green, when we decided to dissolve partnership.
He pawned a small lady's gold watch, which he said his deceased wife had left him, and with the money bought a ticket for Cincinnati. I was undecided whether to continue horse-training, or try and strike something else.
After Prof. De Voe left, I remained at the hotel but a few days, when a gentleman arrived there from the East, selling County rights for a patent gate.
I remembered having had a conversation with a gentleman the day before, who said he wanted to invest a hundred dollars in a good paying business.
I asked the patent-right man what commission he would allow if I would find a customer. He said twenty-five per cent. In less than two hours I had sold a county for one hundred dollars. I received the twenty-five dollars, and after settling my board bill, started for home.
On my way I stopped off a day in Cincinnati. While passing by a cheap second-class hotel, a voice came from an upper window: "Halloo, Johnston!" I halted, looked up and "hallooed" back. A lady, with her head projecting out of the window, said: "Come up in the sitting-room." I did as requested.
As I opened the door, she stepped forward and extended her hand, with the remark: "How are you, Prof. Johnston? Where did you leave Prof. De Voe?" I answered the question, adding: "Madam, you know me, but I can't place you, although your countenance looks familiar."
She then stepped to a door leading into a bedroom, and asked me to look inside and see if I saw anything that looked natural.
The very first article my eyes fell upon was a familiar-looking valise, with the name, "Prof. De Voe," printed on it, and the same one that I had frequently carried and had checked, on our recent horse-training trip.