Jim Wardner, of Wardner, Idaho

Dedication

I have studied longer than a judge in a pet dog show as to whom this book should be dedicated, and amidst the vast number of associations, loves and regrets, I hereby dedicate it, first, to the sweetest mother, the truest wife, and the dearest children of which it was ever man's honor to be son, husband, and father; second, to my ever-living creditors, whose longevity is so?ne thing extraordinary, and who, if each became a purchaser of this book, would insure its circulation ; and third, to the miners of the great Northwest, with whom I have been so closely allied for many years, sharing with them hopes, anticipations and realizations.

This little flower was taken front the conservatory of Ella Wheeler Wilcox and transplanted into my garden of weeds:

The longer I live and the more I see

Chapter I. My Earliest Speculations

IF it were possible to instruct the young men of the English-speaking world by means of object lessons from the experience of others, I believe that this autobiography would soon be recognized as one of the most valuable text books extant. In recording the incidents, adventures, business affairs and unique experiences of a life that has never known idle moments and that has, in its feverish haste for gain, invaded nearly all countries and all climes, from the northern extremities of Alaska to the southern parts of Africa, I shall relate only facts and actual personal observations. All of the names of the individuals mentioned are genuine, and all dates and places are correctly given.

To those unacquainted with me, who will read this book, I will introduce myself by stating that I am the " Jim Wardner" after whom the towns of Wardner in Idaho and Wardner in British Columbia are named.

It is generally considered by my most intimate family friends that I am a living and incontrovertible proof that the old saw, " Blood will tell/' is not to be relied upon in estimating the effect of a parent's characteristics upon his children; for, while I have been one of the most persistent and tireless searchers after hidden treasures in all parts of the world, my good father lived fifty consecutive years in the city of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and was quite the contrary, being of a very retiring disposition. He located in Milwaukee in 1836, and died there in 1886. His was the first brick residence built in the city now so famous for its beauty and beer, and therein I was born, May 19, 1846. My dear mother is still alive, at eighty years of age, and notwithstanding that she has been confined to her bed since the first inauguration of Grover Cleveland, her mental energies and high-strung nerves are still unimpaired.

As a youth I was exceedingly restless under any kind of restraint, cared little for books, loved all animals, and developed a disposition to trade and barter with my boy companions rather than to indulge in the usual games and sports of children. I was but eight years old when I one day surprised my mother by confiding to her my first great money-making scheme. I had thought over the project until I was convinced that I could make more money annually upon an original investment of seventy-five cents than she had ever dreamed of. I had figured out every detail before I presented my proposition to my mother and asked her to loan me the necessary capital. I assured her I knew where I could buy a very beautiful rabbit for seventy-five cents; that the boy who owned the rabbit had told me it was a mother rabbit and that it would have eight or ten baby rabbits soon, each of which would probably be more beautiful and valuable than the one I was to purchase. I also told my mother that I had been learning all about rabbits from the boy owner, and that it would be very easy to increase my stock of animals to at least one thousand head by the end of the first twelve months, and that the figures for the next following year became so large I could not calculate them, but that at twenty-five cents each for the rabbits I would be awful rich.

My mother gave me the money; I bought the rabbit ; and very soon afterward I had eight young kids to admire and take care of. I fitted up a place in our back yard and worked industriously and methodically to the end I had in view. The young rabbits thrived, and I soon found an opportunity to sell a pair for seventy-five cents. I repaid the loan to my mother, and felt that I had engaged in an interesting and profitable business, and that it was all my own. The business thrived and grew, and I continued it until I was thirteen years old, in the meantime making money enough to buy all my school books, and always having on hand much more spending money than the average boy among my associates. I soon found out that my original calculations did not materialize, and also learned that figures will lie more correctly and seductively than any other medium of untruth. But my rabbit business was a success just the same.

My boy customers were many, and among- them I recall Charlie King as one of the best. And now General King-, the heroic soldier and gifted author, if he reads these lines, will go back in heart and mind to the sunny, happy days when he so admired my best "pink eyes," and there was no trace of anything but joy above the horizon of our youthful vision. Prof. George H. Peckham, now distinguished as first among educators in Wisconsin, was a good buyer of "bunnies." Among my other well-remembered boy customers were W. H. Wright, Sam. W. Tallmadge, Harry and Fred. Luddington, W. H. Seaman and others ; but of all the boys who were my patrons there was one, somewhat older than the others, whom I can never forget. His name was Bill Plummer and he was the thirteenth and youngest son of a good English family that lived in the neighborhood. Bill had a peculiar personality. He was a quiet lad, yet had a faculty of making all the other boys in j awe of him without any apparent attempt to exercise any authority or control. I had an instinctive dread of him which was never clear to mv mind. It was a case of :

" I do not like thee, Dr. Fell ;

Why it is, I cannot tell ;

But I do not like thee, Dr. Fell."

Until I heard that as a young man he had drifted up to Virginia City, in Montana, had been elected Sheriff of the camp, and was soon afterward hung by the Vigilantes, who discovered that he was the chief of the road agents that infested the new mining district, as well as being the duly elected Sheriff. But I doubt if Bill Plummer could have avoided that or a worse fate, for he was number thirteen on the list.

My business career of rabbit-raising had been happy \ and prosperous ; but when I was thirteen years old I gave it up to enter the drug store of I. N. Morton, in ; Milwaukee, as a clerk and student. I was no more to ! blame for beginning my career as a druggist at the , fatalistic year of my life than was Bill Plummer for be- ! mg the thirteenth son. I liked the delicate, intricate, ' and precise nature of my new duties, and as I was of an inquisitive turn I made quick progress ; so much so, indeed, that in 1863, when the Thirty-ninth Regiment

Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, was ready to go to the front in the Civil War, I was appointed by Surgeon- General E. B. Wolcott to the position of hospital steward. We were soon at the front, and the Thirty-ninth Wisconsin was stationed on the Hernando Pike, just out of Memphis, Tennessee. I got along pretty well for a boy of my age, rather liked the authority of my position, and had only one stormy incident during my service. The great Confederate cavalry chief, Forrest, concluded that his mere handful of men were more than a match in dash, daring and deviltry for the considerable Federal army in and about Memphis. At any rate, when our gallant Thirty-ninth heard that Forrest was coming down the pike they started like broncos before a cloudburst, and ran five miles to safety at Fort Pickering I had remained to get the sick and convalescent into*ambulances ; but before that work was finished I concluded that Jim Wardner's personal safety was worth much more that any record of heroism that might lead to death, and so I quietly disappeared by crawling into a big bake-oven. I was well secreted, and remained there ten of the longest hours I ever passed before ] was sure that I could reach Fort Pickering in safety and rejoin the regiment.

I saved my money while in the army, and after my discharge I returned home for a brief visit, and then made up my mind that I was old enough and big enough to tackle life in New York City. I reached New York full of hope, aspirations and confidence. I put up at the Western Hotel, on Cortlandt street, and at once began looking for a position as druggist. I soon found out that all the high-class pharmacies were fully as particular about how their clerks parted their hair or curled their mustaches as they were about their knowledge and experience ; and as I was not quite up to the Eastern style just then, I was finally compelled to accept a clerkship in a drug store located at the then famous (and infamous) " Five Points." I was made night clerk, and quickly discovered that my principal work was the sale of morphine, opium and certain proprietary medicines. The transition from the quiet dignity of Morton's establishment in Milwaukee to the surroundings of a night clerk's duties in the "Five Points/' New York, was marked enough to satisfy any craving for incident or strange experience that a boy of my age might have had.

Before I had been long in my new position I found that one of our most regular patrons was a big, jovial, tremendously profane and equally influential man of the neighborhood, named John Allen. We became so well acquainted that Mr. Allen one night said to me in his most cordial manner :

" Come around to my place some afternoon, Jim, and I'll show you one of the sights of New York."

He gave me his number on Water street, and the following afternoon I strolled over to the address given. Over the door was a big sign, " Allen's Place." It was directly opposite a very famous resort of which I had heard, " Kit Burns' Rat Pit." I saw that the general environment was of an even tougher character than our own business locality, and it was with a bit of indecision that I finally opened the front door and stepped into John Allen's resort of the ultra- vile habitu6s of the district. Many, times in my life of adventure, excitement and novelty have I been suddenly startled, surprised or frightened, but never before or since have I been quite so astounded as I was the moment I entered " Allen's Place."

In the center of the first portion of the front room was a round table, upon which were strewn well-bound, expensive and much-used volumes of the works of Shakespeare, Milton, Burns, Poe, Dickens and other standard authors, and in the center of the table was a huge and costly family Bible. To the left center of the room was a long bar ; standing upon the bar was a little boy, apparently about five years old, sweet, innocent and beautiful. It was as if the child had stepped out of one of the master paintings of the Madonna to check the mad revelry that was rioting at the far end of the room, where sailors and women were dancing, drinking and brawling. Before the child stood John Allen ; and the boy, with a marvelous beauty of voice, was declaiming bits of poetry from Burns. Mr. Allen turned and came forward to meet me.

14 Well, Jim, glad to see you ! This (lifting the child off the bar) is my little one and pet, Chester. When I feel a bit sentimental and the racket here ain't too great,

I stand Chester up on the bar or table and he recites my favorite verses for me. He knows a lot from each of our standard poets. 4 Now, pet/ " said Mr. Allen softly, lifting the boy upon the table, " ' recite something for Mr. Wardner/ "

" Is your name Jim ? " asked Chester of me ; and then, quickly, " I like you."

Somewhat self-reliant though I was, I could say nothing in reply. Then, with the noise and racket of commingled music and shuffling feet, oaths and hideous ribaldry at the farther end of the room, that sweet, fond child stood near the great Bible and repeated Portia's address to Shylock.

" The quality of mercy is not strain'd " was burned into my very soul.

'* It falleth like the gentle rain from heaven upon the just and the unjust "

was thrust into my ear never to be forgotten; and I looked at the drunken, dancing sailors and the painted, polluted women, and for the first time, possibly, in all my life came serious thoughts : Who shall judge them ? Shall this child lead them ?

With a light laugh and a curious smile of affection little Chester hugged Allen as he lifted the boy from the table, and I hurried away on the plea of being compelled to do extra work at the store.

Soon after this episode the New York Sun wrote up Allen as " The Wickedest Man in New York." Instantly he was famous, and for some reason had come to consider me as his closest friend. Some time previous to this the Young Men's Christian Association had been making persistent and successful efforts at reclaiming the denizens of Water street. Much to my astonishment I found that Allen had suddenly become a convert. " Allen's Place " was removed from over the entrance, and in its stead was a huge sign, " Young Men's Christian Association." Here, in place of drunkenness, robbery and the lowest vices, suddenly there were hymns, prayers and sermons. Nightly the place was thronged with the lowest types of the inhumanity of the slums. John Allen became the most effective, and, apparently, the most honest and earnest exhorter among those who addressed the crowds. He was a powerful man and a powerful speaker. Shameless women cried at his words of warning and beseeching, and hardened criminals became frequenters of the meetings and professed reformation. Chester was a factor in all this, and Allen used the child's talents to advantage.

I saw the effect upon the general public of Allen and Chester, and one day I said to Allen :

" I will put my time against a little of your money, Mr. Allen, and will guarantee to make a thousand dollars or two within a month."

" How ? "

" Come with me and see ; we must have Chester with us."

" All right, Jim ; it's a pleasant day and I don't mind a walk anyway."

We went to a photographer's, and inside of half an hour 1 had made arrangements to have a number of thousands of photographs of Allen and Chester ready for delivery upon a stated date. One beautiful May morning the photographs of " The Wickedest Man in New York "and the child Chester were on sale all over the city. The result was that in a few days Allen and I divided $1,500 in cash, over and above all expenses, and I possessed the largest sum of money I had ever owned up to that date.

After a little Allen tried to raise the rent of his place to the Association, and its officers became suspicious that his alleged conversion was sham. But the Sun and the photographer had made him famous, and whenever he spoke people crowded to hear him. I noted all this, and surprised Allen one day by saying :

" You are an older man than I am, Mr. Allen, but I have got a plan that can be carried out, and one that will make us both rich. It will beat the photograph racket all to pieces."

" What is it, my boy ?"

" You are now the best advertised man in the United States," I replied. " I propose that you advance money enough to pay preliminary expenses ; I will make all the arrangements for halls and advertising, and you, with Chester as a side attraction, will deliver ten lectures in ten of the largest cities of the State. There will be a lot of money in it, and we will divide up the net receipts."

Allen at once appreciated the situation, and we immediately made a bargain. I quit the drug store, went to Troy, engaged the opera house there, and billed the town for the first lecture of " The Wickedest Man in New York." Now Allen's besetting sin was a love of and capacity for whiskey. He and Chester came on to Troy at the appointed time. The evening of the lecture arrived and with it a crowd that not only packed the opera house but filled the neighboring sidewalks. A thousand dollars had been taken in at the box-office. I waited impatiently for Allen. Hours passed, but he did not appear. Then I announced that the money would be refunded at the box-office, and the great crowd passed out. Allen, drunk, was found before morning. It was his last debauch. In three days he died. I took Chester back to New York, and he was taken in charge by the Young Men's Christian Association. I have never heard of Chester from that day to this. If he is living, and this reminiscence comes to his eye, I would like much to hear from him.

Chapter II. The Anti-cow-kicking Milking Stool

Upon my return to New York I began at once hustling for a situation, for the fiasco at Troy had compelled me to part with most of the money I had made in the photograph deal. Within a few days I met an acquaintance who told me that a very eminent physician, a friend of his, needed an assistant, and that he would be willing to pay liberally for the services of a trustworthy young man who had had experience as a druggist. My acquaintance offered to give me a personal introduction and said he would recommend me as "discreet." We sauntered up Broadway a few blocks and I was ushered into the office of Dr. A. M. K., Tapeworm Specialist. In the waiting room were three or four thin-faced, blueveined, wild-eyed women, and on our entrance there had rushed from an interior room a scared-looking lady, who seemed anxious to get home. I at once concluded that the doctor had lots of business, and that I would probably get a position. He was so busy, indeed, that we were compelled to await his pleasure for more than an hour.

Finally, Dr. K. came out and greeted us, asked me a few questions, and upon learning that I was from the West, said he would try me for a week. I began my work as assistant to a tapeworm specialist the next morning. I was put in the laboratory and was given several bottles and boxes, unlabeled, save that on each was marked a number of grains or proportions. I was told that my work would consist largely in mixing and preparing prescriptions that would be given me, and that I was to put them up in accordance with weights specified upon the various boxes and bottles. I knew enough not to ask any questions, and I also knew enough to determine the character of some of the unnamed drugs. This knowledge gave me some clue to the modus operandi io Jim War drier.

of the doctor, and though he seemed greatly disinclined to give information, I finally by strategy won from him his secret. Just what this was I shall not state here. Suffice it to say, that each day no less than ten patients were diagnosed as suffering from tapeworm, each was treated, and each paid — according to the doctor's ability to size her up — from twenty-five to fifty dollars ; and I believe that each patient left the office convinced that she had had a tapeworm removed.

One morning the doctor told me that he could see that I had an eye to business, and that he knew a fellow who had perfected an invention, which, if the rights for any Western agricultural State could be purchased outright, would bring the possessor a fortune. He said that if I had a few hundred dollars of ready money, he thought he could get me the right for the State of Wisconsin (he knew that I was from Milwaukee) at a bedrock price. I told him I had about five hundred dollars. Without delay the kind doctor introduced me to the inventive genius, and I accompanied the latter to a loft down-town. There I was shown a combination milk stool, with a sort of tripod attachment to which was hung a big milk pail. The inventor said :

" Of course, you have lived in the country, and know how to milk cows ? "

" No, I never milked a cow ; but I know how it is done."

" Well, that's just as well, for you will comprehend at once the great value of this anti-cow-kicking milking machine. You know, my boy, that more than eighty per cent, of cows kick, and the milking of them is often not only a tiresome but a hazardous undertaking. With this machine it is impossible for a cow to kick over the milk pail. I have shipped within a month more than one thousand machines to South America. I have the rights for only one State left, and that is so far away I hardly think you will care to invest."

" What State is it ?" I asked.

" Wisconsin ; it's a great dairy State, but you know it's a long ways from New York."

Well, the upshot was that after a good deal of bargaining, I actually turned over my five hundred dollars of good and lawful money of the United States and took

The Anti-Cow-Kicking Milking Stool. n

a complicated agreement, printed upon green paper, which made me the sole proprietor of the right to manufacture, use and sell the " Anti-Cow-Kicking Milking Machine " in the entire State of my nativity. Now it happened that during my stay in New York I had been in correspondence with a Milwaukee young lady, with whom I was very much in love — and with whom in these many intervening years the sentiment has grown as we shared our triumphs and troubles together — and I was anxious to return to my home. It also happened that my mother-in-law that was to be had but a little while before been presented with a gentle Alderney cow by Judge Daniels, of Lockport, N. Y., who had had the animal shipped from his farm out to Milwaukee. The cow was as kind as a kitten. The great inventor of the machine which I believed was to make my fortune, had kindly superintended the construction of a specially well-finished model for my use. It was painted red, was nickel- plated in parts, and was as pretty as a new wagon. The very afternoon of my arrival I carried the machine over to my prospective mother-in-law's house and, after extolling the merits of my invention, I begged her to have it tested that evening on the Alderney. The servant who did the milking was instructed to try the new combination, and started to do so ; but the moment the tripod was placed and the maid started to sit upon the stool, that gentlest of Alderneys shot out and back aright hind foot — and we were so busy carrying the maid into the house that there was no time for me to even examine the fragments of my future fortune.

Soon afterward I was offered and accepted a position as traveling salesman of druggists' sundries for the firm of Kelly & Edmunds, of 176 Washington street, Boston. I had made but one trip for the concern — which was one of the largest and best houses in the East — when George L. Kinsman, of Milwaukee, who had married a young lady with considerable money in her own right, offered to make me a partner in a new pharmacy which he wanted to establish. I accepted the proposition at once. Kinsman and I then fitted up, at a cost of ten thousand dollars, the " Palace Drug Store," and we started out with the best of prospects. I was now in business and concluded that I could afford to marry —

Jim Wardner.

the best and most permanent conclusion I have ever carried out. Everything seemed particularly favorable to success. But one day inexplicable Fate walked into the " Palace Drug Store," and in a few minutes a prominent citizen was poisoned and our business was ruined.

It was in this way : One of our clerks was Philo , a

careful, conscientious, and skillful druggist. He started to wait upon the customer, who wanted a dose of valerian. Upon the shelf was a bottle of Tilden's extract of veratrum viride, the maximum dose of which is five drops. Beside that bottle was Tilden's fluid extract of English valerian, a harmless narcotic, of which a usual prescription is two teaspoonfuls. Philo gave the dose out of the wrong bottle, and the customer fell in spasms on the marble floor.

I quit the drug business that day.

Chapter III. Hogs And A Trip To Arizona

That was the turning point in my career. I concluded to get as far away from the scene of that accident as the limits of the continent would permit, and I started for California, resolved upon a new field, new friends and whatever opportunities might be presented. I had an uncle, Mr. George O. Tiffany, living at Los Angeles, and after visiting San Francisco I concluded I would make him a visit. That was in 1871, and the "City of the Angels " was a quaint old Spanish-Mexican town of few pretensions and less attractions. My uncle, however, was a Los Angeles enthusiast, and he talked me into the belief that the place would soon enjoy a "boom." The result was that I bought six acres of land near the town, for which I paid two thousand dollars, and which, my uncle assured me, would raise five thousand dollars' worth of oranges each season, if properly irrigated and properly set out with orange trees. In those days in that locality the only means of obtaining water was by sinking artesian wells. After acquiring title and concluding that my real mission in life was to enjoy the "glorious climate of California " and become a fruit grower, I sank two artesian wells and both proved to be fine "flowers." I was overjoyed at my prospects ; but one morning I found that my wells ceased to flew, and investigation proved that my neighbor, who had been sinking wells also, had tapped the water vein above and had rendered my work useless. I at once offered my ranch for sale and succeeded in getting the purchase price back. These same six acres afterward sold, in 1888, for one hundred and sixty thousand dollars.

Soon after disposing of my land, and while I was trying to make up my mind whether it would be best to return to " the States," or take passage for Honolulu, who should I meet in Los Angeles one day but my

old boy friend and rabbit buyer, Will . He said

that he had just come up from San Diego and that he had a scheme which would make more money than a mint.

"All I want is one thousand dollars," said Will, "to start the most profitable business on the Pacific Coast."

" Well, what's the plan ?" I queried.

" Hogs."

" Hogs ? "

" Yes, hogs ; say, Jim, I haven't any figures that will do this thing justice ; but listen : A short distance from San Diego, say about twelve miles up in the San Julian Mountains, is a vast natural park timbered with oak trees that bear acorns, which are the best hog food in the world. The tract of land is unoccupied, and I want to buy a thousand dollars' worth of hogs, herd them up there, fatten them without cost, and realize at least five hundred per cent, the first season. You were such a success in the rabbit business, Jim, that I know we can succeed in this enterprise. We can buy all the pigs we want at two dollars each, and in the fall, when fat, they will sell for ten dollars each."

It certainly did look reasonable that if a man could buy five hundred pigs at two dollars each, drive them up to the mountains, where they could get, without cost, all the food they could eat, and then sell them in the fall at ten dollars each, that there was good safe money in the scheme. So I gave Will one thousand dollars, and he returned to San Diego. Soon afterward I heard from him, and everything was lovely. He had bought the pigs, succeeded in getting them into the mountains, had built a shack to live in, and was happy. About three months after I had received the letter I went down to San Diego and was soon on the trail leading to our hog ranch. I found Will's shack all right, and he was sitting in the doorway when I first sighted him, apparently asleep. Upon my near approach he seemed to awaken suddenly, gave a spring to one side, grabbed a big stick, and stood prepared to strike at something. Then he recognized me.