"'Say,' said he, 'young fellow, I've never done any business with you,
but, by Heavens! I like your pluck, and I'm going right over to your
sample room whether you ask me to or not and give you an order. This
is the best time for me to buy goods. All these other fellows around
here are croaking about the election and they're not going to have
anything to sell these people. Shoes are going to wear out and the sun
is going to fade calico, Bryan or no Bryan! I want some goods on my
shelves. Come on, let's go now before it gets dark!'

"I never sold a bill so easy in my life. The old man would pick up a
bundle of sample cards and say, 'Here, you send me about what you
think I ought to have out of this lot,' and while I was writing down
the items, he would talk politics. I sold him a nailer."

"Well, you had pretty good luck in that town," spoke up one of the
boys, "to get a good bill and also win five hundred dollars."

"Didn't win it, though," said the dry goods man.

"Well, how's that? Didn't McKinley win the election? You were betting
on him."

"Yes, but I got back to Chicago about the time that Bryan struck
there. I went down to the old shack on the lake front where the Post
Office now is, and heard Bryan speak to the business men. It looked to
me like the whole house was with him. I heard a dozen men around where
I sat say, after the speech was over, that they had intended to vote
against him, but that they were sure going to vote for Bryan. That
same day I hedged on my five hundred."