We hired a railroad engineer to survey the site and stake it off into lots; and we gave the new town the ancient and historical name of Rome.

To a "starter," we donated lots to any one who would build on them, but reserved the corner lots and others which were best located for ourselves.

These reserved lots we valued at fifty dollars each.
Our modern Rome, like all mushroom towns along the line of a new railroad, sprang up as if by magic, and in less than one month we had two hundred frame and log houses, three or four stores, several saloons, and one good hotel.

Rome was looming up, and Rose and I already considered ourselves millionaires, and thought we "had the world by the tail." But one day a fine-looking gentleman, calling himself Dr.W.E.Webb, appeared in town, and dropping into our store introduced himself in a very pleasant way.
"Gentlemen, you've got a very flourishing little town here.

Wouldn't you like to have a partner in your enterprise ?" "No, thank you," said I, "we have too good a thing here to whack up with anybody." My partner agreed with me, but the conversation was continued, and at last the stranger said: "Gentlemen, I am the agent or prospector of the Kansas Pacific Railroad, and my business is to locate towns for the company along the line." "We think we have the only suitable town-site in this immediate locality," said Mr.Rose, "and as a town is already started, we have saved the company considerable expense." "You know as well as I do," said Dr.Webb, "that the company expects to make money by selling lands and town lots; and as you are not disposed to give the company a show, or share with me, I shall probably have to start another town near you.