He wandered about Canada and the United States for about two years. He
had many ups and downs. On the average he made enough to induce his soul
to remain in his body in anticipation of something better. To do him
justice he remitted all odd coin to his wife in Bruce county, and he
wrote saying he was perfectly happy in his new life. He awoke one
morning and found himself in the "Best" Hotel, Ashcroft, British
Columbia, Dominion of Canada, and the first thing he saw was the
sand-hill. He thought Ashcroft was the most desolate looking spot he had
ever seen. It looked like a town that had been located in a hurry and
had been planted by mistake on the wrong site.

He fell in with a Bruce county fellow there who was running a general
store, and they became very friendly. He secured employment from this
friend, who proved to be a philanthropist.

"I have a proposition to make to you," the friend said one day.

"What is it?" asked the iconoclast.

"Buy me out," said the philanthropist. "I have all the money I can
carry. When the rainy day comes I will be well in out of the drip, and
my tombstone will be 'next best' in the cemetery."

"But I have no bank balance," said the aspirant eagerly. "I have no
debentures of any kind; I have not even pin money."

"Bonds are unnecessary," said the friend. "Besides, when I sell you this
stock and building you will have an asset in the property. I will sell
outright, take a mortgage for the balance, which you will disburse at