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Twenty Years of Hus'ling Part 26

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I had now become more interested in my new business than in the sale of my horse; and concluded to abandon the trip to Adrian, and return to Swanton, where I could dissolve partners.h.i.+p with my friend, and continue the business alone, on horseback if necessary.

On our return trip to Swanton I continued to trade for eggs, where customers were short of cash; and one lady said she couldn't understand how I could afford to pay twenty cents per dozen when the market price was but ten cents.

"Well, madam, you see, that's the trick of the trade."

"But," said she, "the merchant we deal with is as tricky as any one; but he won't pay only ten cents a dozen for eggs."

"Yes," I answered, "and he makes you take groceries and dry goods for them, too, while I give you something you need in exchange for them."

She said, "That's so."

When we returned to Swanton we had nearly twenty dollars in cash, and that many dollars' worth of stock on hand at retail price.

I now felt very anxious to sell my horse, as my patent-right experience was quite sufficient to convince me that such a business was no business at all.

My horse was a handsome dapple grey, and my friend said he could paint him a dark color, and so completely disguise him that no man could detect him.

I suggested that it might also be a good idea to paint me, or at least my auburn hair.

He said he wouldn't undertake that job, but he knew he could fix the horse.

"Very well," said I, "go ahead and paint him."

He did so, and a first-cla.s.s job it was.

I then started for Toledo on horse-back, but before I had traveled far, was caught in a heavy rain-storm. I hitched my horse in front of a school-house and went inside for shelter, by permission of the teacher.

The rain continued for about two hours, and when I returned to my horse he was absolutely the homeliest and oddest-colored brute I ever saw. The paint had run down his legs in streaks, and had formed a combination of colors more easily imagined than described. On arriving at Toledo I put my horse in a sale stable and ordered him to be sold.

The proprietor looked us both over with much suspicion, and asked from which direction I had come.

"From the west, sir," I answered.

"From the far west?" he still further inquired.

"You'd think so, if you'd followed me," I replied.

"Well, what in the d----l ails your horse?"

"Well, sir, he fell in the Chicago River," was my answer.

Stepping to the animal, he rubbed his fingers over the rough, sticky hair, and then placing them to his nose, said:----

"Don't smell bad,--looks's though he'd been dyed."

"Well, I wish to ---- he'd died before I ever saw him."

Upon registering at a hotel to await results, I met an old acquaintance who was boarding there, and explained to him my predicament.

He said he didn't think I would ever be able to sell my horse with all that daub on him, unless I explained just how I had traded for him. I replied that to make a full statement would surely result in a writ of replevin being served and the horse being taken from me.

A couple of days later, my friend came rus.h.i.+ng into the hotel and informed me that two men, one a policeman, were at the barn carefully scrutinizing the horse.

I waited a few moments, when I walked leisurely to the barn, and after paying for his keeping, ordered him saddled, and immediately started out on the jump. Just as I pa.s.sed from the barn I noticed a man coming on the run towards me. I put spurs to the animal, when the man yelled, "Halt! halt!" but I wasn't halting, and kept on down the street, looking back at the gentleman as my horse sped rapidly along.

He then yelled: "Stop that man! stop that man!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "STOP THAT MAN! STOP THAT MAN."]

I kept looking back, and had just begun to congratulate myself on my success, when suddenly my horse came to a full stop, and I landed forward astride his neck, hanging on by his mane. I then discovered a large policeman holding him by the bit.

I dismounted, and as the gentleman who had been running behind came up to where we were, the police officer said to him:

"Mr. Cavanaugh, what shall I do with the horse?"

"Take him back to the stable, for the time being," was the answer.

I then said:

"I now recognize you as the gentleman and detective whom I was introduced to a few weeks ago by an acquaintance from Bronson, Mich., at which place I believe you formerly resided, and where I married my wife."

"Sure enough," he answered. "Your wife and I were school children together. Johnston is your name."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, great Heavens! you're no horse-thief!"

"Well, who in thunder said I was? I am sure I never said so," was my reply.

"What have you painted this horse for?" he inquired.

"Well, I guess I'll have to tell you privately," I answered.

We then walked along together, and I explained everything.

"Well, this case," said he, "has been reported to the Captain of Police; and I guess you'd better go over to his office and explain matters, and a note from him to the proprietor of the sale-stable will help you to dispose of the horse."

We visited the Captain, to whom I explained, and as proof of my statement produced my papers and some newspaper clippings.

The Captain said if I was sleek enough to trade a lightning-rod agent out of a horse with a patent right, I ought to be pensioned. He said he'd send word to the stable-man that it was all right, which I suppose he did. At any rate, I sold out to the proprietor inside of an hour.

I then decided to go immediately to Findlay and see what grounds they had for wanting to arrest us.

On arriving there I spent about three hours in trying to find an officer who would recognize me, and possibly place me under arrest. Not successful in this, I looked for and found an officer, with whom I managed to get into conversation, and was obliged to tell him plainly who I was, before he would "take a tumble," as the saying is.

He then said he knew all about the trade, and was acquainted with the men, and the circ.u.mstances of their offering the reward.

"Well, now," said I, "you arrest me, and we'll get the reward."

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Twenty Years of Hus'ling Part 26 summary

You're reading Twenty Years of Hus'ling. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): J. P. Johnston. Already has 1088 views.

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