be imagined, such battling as this did not put much money into
the treasury of the parent company; and the letters written by Sanders
at this time prove that it was in a hard plight.

The following was one of the queries put to Hubbard by the overburdened
Sanders:

"How on earth do you expect me to meet a draft of two hundred and
seventy-five dollars without a dollar in the treasury, and with a debt
of thirty thousand dollars staring us in the face?" "Vail's salary is
small enough," he continued in a second letter, "but as to where it is
coming from I am not so clear. Bradley is awfully blue and discouraged.
Williams is tormenting me for money and my personal credit will not
stand everything. I have advanced the Company two thousand dollars
to-day, and Williams must have three thousand dollars more this month.
His pay-day has come and his capital will not carry him another inch.
If Bradley throws up his hand, I will unfold to you my last desperate
plan."

And if the company had little money, it had less credit. Once when Vail
had ordered a small bill of goods from a merchant named Tillotson, of
15 Dey Street, New York, the merchant replied that the goods were ready,
and so was the bill, which was seven dollars. By a strange coincidence,
the magnificent building of the New York Telephone Company stands to-day
on the site of Tillotson's store.

Month after month, the little Bell Company lived from hand to mouth. No
salaries were paid in full. Often, for weeks, they were not paid at all.
In Watson's note-book there are such entries during this period as
"Lent Bell fifty cents," "Lent Hubbard twenty cents," "Bought one bottle
beer--too bad can't have beer every day." More than once Hubbard would
have gone hungry had not Devonshire, the only clerk, shared with him
the contents of a dinner-pail. Each one of the little group was beset by
taunts and temptations. Watson was offered ten thousand dollars for
his one-tenth interest, and hesitated three days before refusing it.
Railroad companies offered Vail a salary that was higher and sure, if he
would superintend their mail business. And as for Sanders, his folly was
the talk of Haverhill. One Haverhill capitalist, E. J. M. Hale, stopped
him on the street and asked, "Have n't you got a good leather business,
Mr. Sanders?" "Yes," replied Sanders. "Well," said Hale, "you had better
attend to it and quit playing on wind instruments." Sanders's banker,
too, became uneasy on one