16

15.

was a mighty big thing, but my first glimpse of that depot in St.
Louis convinced me that Atlanta's station was not so much after all.
This was before the day of the first taxis, but there were plenty of
hacks with blanketed horses waiting to carry passengers to any place
in the city. It was snowing hard when I got that first look at St.
Louis, and I had no place in particular to stay and I wanted to do my
room-hunting in good open daylight.

"While I was sitting there all alone, a man sort of eased
up to me and said in a low tone, 'I'm in trouble and I've got to
tell somebody about it. Just by looking at your good honest face, I
know I can trust you.' Naturally, I thanked him for such flattering
comments. 'I need someone to go about two blocks from here with me,'
he continued, and went on to give a sort of vague but insistent im-
pression of the fact that he and his wife were in serious trouble that
I could readily straighten out by my mere presence. Someone else I'd
never seen before called to me and told me that this was just a come-on
story the old man was telling me, that he just wanted to get me out
where I would have no protection. The warning probably saved me some
trouble, and it made me more wary of the approaches of this kind which
every traveling man experiences, sooner or later.

"After rambling over several states very profitably in pursuit
of my trade as salesman of musical instruments, I landed in Athens in
1916 - in the 'Red Old Hills of Georgia,' - by request of partners who
declared themselves in need of a piano man. At first I lived in Bowden's

1701