."

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-class 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 rushing 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,