eblo, and transfer freight destined for the north from standard to narrow-gauge cars. My material called for two cars of the "Baby Road," and I feared that when the erroneous classification was discovered there would be an explosion, a reclassification, and demand for full tariff.
I was at my wit's end to discover some method of meeting such a contingency. Finally I received intelligence that the stuff had been transferred, and that the train hauling it would arrive at Colorado Springs the following night.
Dropping down there early in the morning, I engaged True & Sutton, a freight-hauling firm, to transport the plunder to Leadville. I dared not sleep, and on one of the coldest December nights in 1878 I walked the streets of Colorado Springs until sunrise. My plans were all laid, and they worked out with mathematical precision.
Acquainted with the local agent, Mr. Ellison, I "laid" for him, followed him to his office, and asked for the expense bills. These properly receipted, I safely tucked away. Then I asked Mr. Ellison for help in unloading, pleading a desire to get the stuff well out of town before nightfall.
The work had not proceeded very far when one of the railroad roustabouts reported that the shipment did not consist of "household goods." This brought Mr. Ellison down the platform in high dudgeon.
"Davis," shouted he, "by what sort of d—d hocus pocus did you get that iron foundry billed through here as emigrant household goods?"
Casting an eye upon the remains of a marble-top table upon which a press cylinder weighing half a ton had been deposited, I replied: "Aren't these household goods, Mr. Ellison?"
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