A desperate time. The Great Depression was in its eighth year. No sign of a lift out of it. Yet for a few, times were fine. Prices were low, very low, so for anyone with cash, things, all things, were cheap. Purchasing power, for the few who could afford to buy anything, was awesome.
In spite of the Depression, the world of pointing dog field trials limped along. Bird dog men at the top, like Edward Farrior, got along ok, for their patrons, men like Longsdorf, were wealthy from oil, very wealthy. Clyde Morten had Mr. Sage’s timber fortune behind him. But most men were struggling to stay alive, keep their families alive.
Such was the case for Bob Cole of Oklahoma and his scout Frankie Fleming. Bob handled bird dogs for the public in trials, guided quail hunting parties in Texas too. Most of his customers from the 1920s were gone, broken by the Depression. The one exception was Raymond Kain, a New York stock investor who had gone to cash before the ‘29 Crash.
Kain had somehow acquired a son of Air Pilot that was proving a phenomenal derby for Bob and Frankie. He’d won or placed second in every stake he’d been entered in during his derby year. Folks were beginning to ask about breeding to him. But Raymond Kain had said no. Said he wanted Chief Navigator (call name Bud) bred only to bitches he owned. He told Bob to be on the lookout for good bitches to buy.
“But Mr. Kain, we can breed him to Blue Hens others own, get stud fee pups instead of cash, find out that way what lines he will nick with,” Bob had advised, but Raymond Kain had said no.
Chief Navigator entered his first all-age year. Bob and Frankie feared a slump. But Bud continued winning or placing. Demand for his services surged. Still Raymond Kain refused. Mid season Bob and Frankie succumbed to temptation. They bred Chief Navigator to a Blue Hen and split $50. They would also get a stud fee pup. The litter would be registered as sired by a dog owned by the Blue Hen’s owner. By the end of Chief Navigator’s first all-age year his pups were spread across the continent. None showed Chief Navigator as sire on their papers. Bob Cole had a new 1938 Ford pickup truck. Frankie had a Mason jar of greenbacks buried behind his cabin. Navigator, like his sire and famous half-brother Air Pilot’s Sam, proved to nick with bitches of many bloodlines.