Uncle Sam, Trustee
Remote as was the chance of drawing a lucky number, never was a gambling game conducted more fairly and squarely than this one. Every move in the grand final event was religiously referred to Mistress Chance. First, boxes containing one thousand each of the 106,296 envelopes were numbered, and the order in which they should be emptied into the one big drawing-box was determined by lot. On the theory of "first in, last out," this preliminary event narrowed the probable winners down to the last few thousand cards deposited in the big receptacle. Then, from among eight boys named by the drawing committee, four were chosen by lot to draw the numbers in turn from the box. Again the boys' names went into the hat, and a third drawing determined the order in which the four lads were to draw the envelopes.
Finally, Boy Number One, all ready to draw Prize Number One, was photographed beside the precious box while the expectant throng held its breath.
Prize number one—the best one hundred and sixty acres on the Rosebud—perhaps next to a townsite—or a vantage point on the Missouri—wherever the winner might choose to locate his little fortune—fell to a clerk in the United States Treasury Department at Washington. And the first one hundred winners fared nearly as well. About twelve hundred entries were made at the four-dollar-per-acre rate.
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