A TRAMP.

White Ribbon, Volume 22, Issue 263, 18 May 1917, Page 10

A TRAMP.

THE TRLk STORN OF A MAKER OK SADDLES IN PROHIBITION NORTH DAKOTA. There was an irresolute kno(k at the back door. “I'll answer it, Mary,” said J.ukson, getting up from the breakfast table as 1 e spoke. “Can you give me something to eat. Mister?” asked a middle-aged man, in a quavering voice; “I’m almost starved.” “Why don't you fellows go to work, instead of begging and beating your way?” asked Jackson, the rancher, banker, and all around successful Western business man. “There isn’t anything that 1 can do in this forsaken country; there is nothing doing in my line,” answered Dillon. “What is your line?” demanded Jackson. “I am a saddler, sir; 1 can make as hne a saddle as any man ever rode,’ said Dillon. “Why did you come to this country?” demanded Jackson. “You certainly did not expect to find saddle factories on North Dakota ranches nor in towns of one hundred people." “Mister, I came to North Dakota to get away from drink ; when 1 learned that I could escape from the drink devil by coming heie, 1 did not stop to inquire about work, but came at once. I paid my Kre as far as 1 had money. Since then 1 have walked and walked, and starved and shivered until I can go no further.” “Come in and have some breakfast, and get warm,” said Jackson, with an uncomfortable lump in his throat, which made further speech d.ftnult. After Dillon had finished his breakfast, Jackson said to him: ‘ I am going to test the truth of what you say; there are a lot of cowboys on my own and on the neighbouring ranches; they are always buying good saddles; there is a vacant room in the rear of the building ■n which our bank is located. I’ll 9>uy whatever you need to begin work 9n a small way; if you do what you fek.iv you can do, I’ll finance you further ” 91 Jackson wired Minnea|>olis for leakier. tools, and other necessary equipBirot for the proposed saddler's shop. Hfwo days later the one hundred and Binetv-nine inhabitants of Sentinel

City were on the qui vive concerning the outcome of Jackson’s new venture. fje was always starting somenew thing, but setting up a tramp in business, and that a saddlery ahop in Sentinel City, was certainly the craziest undertaking of them alt. Any man with average intelligence should know that the saddler’s business belongs to the b;g city. “Jackson is dead easy,” said one man. “If he knew men, he never would have financed that tramp.” “Jackson is a young ambitious idealist,” said another. “He’ll he more practical after he loses a lot of money.” On Saturday morning Dillon called Jackson into the shop to show him his first saddle. “Splendid!” he exclaimed. ‘1 should like a saddle as fine as that for myself. The cowboys will he* in town this afternoon, and I’ll bring a dozen of them in here to see your sample.” “She’s a beauty,” exe la med Bill Jones after he had carefully examined the new saddle. ‘l’ll give you twenty dollars for it," he said, taking out a roll of bills. “Hold on, there; not quite so fast, if you please, Mr Jones,” shouted Kd. Smith. “I’ll give twenty-five dollars for that saddle. This isn’t bargain day at the saddle counter; you can’t bluff the gentleman out of the profit? on his goods while 1 am around.” “Gentlemen,” said Dillon, “this saddle sells for eighteen dollars, and no more; I’ll take orders for as many saddles as you care to place at that price.” The boys stared at the speaker, as if to make sure of his sanity ; then there was a general rush for orders. Some months later Dillon said to Jackson: “I can’t keep up with the orders.” “Then we will get help,” was his prompt reply. “This is a paying business. The thing that pleases me most, Dillon, is that you have made good your promise.” “Thank God for a State where you can’t get liquor,” said Dillon. “I have always made money; but the drink got it away from me, and I was left poor. My employers always said, ‘Drink is your besotting sfn ; get away from drink, and you will do well.’” “You have a good sized bank account, Dillon; we will organise a company, and you can take as much

stock as you bke. ‘My tramp has mact<* good.’ ” The Jackson Saddlery Company, Limited, was organised under the laws of North Dakota, with a paid-up capital sto< k of fifty thousand dollars. Since September, iqu, they have had contracts with the British Government for all the* saddles they can make. “Doesn’t it beat all how everything that man Jackson touches turns into money?” said one of the former wise ones to hrs companion, as they stood looking at the new factory. “Yes,” sa d the other, “and to my mind the biggest thing he has made is not money, hut that man Dillon, who came to this town a tramp, and now he is a successful business man." —Rev. Frank Hampton Fox, D.D., in “Christian Endeavour World.”