Mr. Edwards lost confidence in himself, and thereafter,
until peace was restored, my wife and a younger sister always buried
the family treasure by night, keeping the secret to themselves, and
producing the money on demand.
The merchant at Austin reported land scrip plentiful at fifteen
to sixteen dollars a section. I gave him an order for two hundred
certificates, and he filled the bill so promptly that I ordered
another hundred, bringing my unlocated holdings up to six hundred
sections. My land scrip was a standing joke between my wife and me,
and I often promised her that when we built a house and moved to
the Clear Fork, if the scrip was still worthless she might have the
certificates to paper a room with. They were nicely lithographed, the
paper was of the very best quality, and they went into my wife's trunk
to await their destiny. Had it been known outside that I held such an
amount of scrip, I would have been subjected to ridicule, and no doubt
would have given it to some surveyor to locate on shares. Still I had
a vague idea that land at two and a half cents an acre would never
hurt me. Several times in the past I had needed the money tied up in
scrip, and then I would regret having bought it. After the loss of
my entire working capital by Texas fever, I was glad I had foresight
enough to buy a quantity that summer. And thus I swung like a pendulum
between personal necessities and public opinion; but when those
long-headed Yankee partners of mine urged me to buy land, I felt once
more that I was on the right track and recovered my grasp.
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