portunity, and early in August the remnant of
each herd was thrown together and half the remaining outfit sent home.
A drive of fully half a million cattle had reached Kansas that
year, the greater portion of which had centred at Wichita. We were
persistent in selling, and, having strong local connections, had
sold out all our cattle long before the financial panic of '73 even
started. There was a profitable business, however, in buying herds and
selling again in small quantities to farmers and stockmen. My partners
were anxious to have me remain to the end of the season, doing the
buying, maintaining the camp, and holding any stock on hand. In
rummaging through the old musty account-books, I find that we handled
nearly seven thousand head besides our own drive, fifteen hundred
being the most we ever had on hand at any one time.

My active partner proved a shrewd man in business, and in spite of
the past our friendship broadened and strengthened. Weeks before the
financial crash reached us he knew of its coming, and our house was
set in order. When the panic struck the West we did not own a hoof of
cattle, while the horses on hand were mine and not for sale; and the
firm of Hunter, Anthony & Co. rode the gale like a seaworthy ship. The
panic reached Wichita with over half the drive of that year unsold.
The local banks began calling in money advanced to drovers, buyers
deserted the market, and prices went down with a crash. Shipments of
the best through cattle failed to realize more than sufficient to pay
commission charges and freight. Ruin stared in the face every Texan
drover whose cattle were unsold. Only a few herds were under contract
for fall delivery to Indian and army contractors. We had run from the
approaching storm in the nick of time, even settling with and sending
my outfit home before the financial cyclone reached the prairies
of Kansas. My last trade before the panic struck was an individual
account, my innate weakness for an abundance of saddle horses
asserting itself in buying ninety head and sending them home with my
men.

I now began to see the advantages of shrewd and far-seeing business
associates. When the crash came, scarce a dozen drovers had sold out,
while of those holding cattle at Wichita nearly every one had locally
borrowed money or owed at home for their herds. When the banks,
panic-stricken themselves, began calling in short-time loans, their
frenzy paralyzed the market, many cattle bei