He got close to his man, and took his pick of the pelts at
fair prices. He expended all of his money, and even bought on
credit, for there are men who always have credit.

Young Astor found Indian nature to be simply human nature.

The savage was a man, and courtesy, gentleness and fairly
good flute-playing soothed his savage breast. Astor had beads
and blankets, a flute and a smile. The Indians carried his
goods by relays and then passed him on with guttural
certificates as to character, to other red men, and at last he
reached New York without the loss of a pelt or the dampening
of his ardor.

Bowne was delighted. To young Astor it was nothing. He had
in his blood the success corpuscle. He might have remained
with Bowne and become a partner in the business, but
Bowne had business limitations and Astor had n't.

So after a three years' apprenticeship, Astor knew all that
Bowne did and all he himself could imagine besides. So he
resigned.

In Seventeen Hundred and Eighty-six, John Jacob Astor began
business on his own account in a little store on Water
Street, New York. There was one room and a basement. He
had saved a few hundred dollars; his brother, the butcher,
had loaned him a few hundred more, and Robert Bowne had
contributed a bale of skins to be paid for ``at thy own price