him pay off the soldiers. These payments would run up to $65,000 or
$75,000 per quarter. Up to the time of his meeting with me no one had
dared to thwart his wishes.

At his request I walked out a piece from the coach with him, and he
said, "Billy Ryus, I have been on the lookout for you for a year!" I was
astonished, and asked him what he had been looking for me for. His
answer was that he wanted me to stop at Ft. Union on my way back from
Santa Fe and go up to their store and clerk for them. I answered, "Mr.
Moore, that is practically impossible; I can't do it." Then he said,
"you've got to do it, I've spent too much time looking for you already,
you've got to clerk for us." I am a little hot headed myself, and I
answered him as tartly as he spoke to me. "Mr. Moore," says I, "I've got
to do nothing of the sort." Then Mr. Moore cooled down and talked more
like a business man and less like a bully.

"Now, Mr. Ryus," (I was young then and quickly noticed the Mr. Ryus)
"this is our proposition: We will give you $1000 a year, board, and room
and you can have your clothes at cost. And," he said, "I'll make you a
check right here." I told him that his proposition did not make a bit of
difference to me, for I was working for Mr. Barnum and could not leave
his employ without first giving him thirty days' notice to get a man in
my place. Mr. Moore was quick to respond, "Ah, let that job be
da--ed"--. This side of Mr. Moore's character did not suit me, and I
asked him what he would think of Mr. Barnum if he should stop over at
his store and take one of his employees off without giving him a chance
to get another in his place, and what would he think of the clerk that
would do him that way. I told him that I would not do him that way. Mr.
Moore said that he saw that I was "squeally" but that he saw my point,
and supposed I was right. "Now, Mr. Moore," I said, "when I get into