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It's February 1872 in Cleveland, Ohio.

A horse-drawn carriage crunches on the snow as it heads down Euclid Avenue.

The street is also known as Millionaires Row, and right now the carriage stops in front of a massive black iron gate.

Isaac L. Hewitt steps down from the carriage.

His breath rises as a small cloud says he puts his gloves on and surveys the two-story mansion in front of him.

The house belongs to John D. Rockefeller.

When Rockefeller was 16, Hewitt hired the boy to be a bookkeeper.

It's been years since that day, and Rockefeller has clearly made his way up in the world.

Hewitt looks to his carriage driver and tells him to wait.

He then walks through the iron gate and starts on the long driveway.

The winter air has crisp and biting, and he's keen to get in from the cold.

Still, he's anxious about entering this house and this meeting.

Rockefeller has become so far different from the quiet boy Hewitt once knew.

Rockefeller's firm, standard oil, is now the largest oil refinery in Cleveland and possibly the world.

The company is growing more powerful by the day.

Hewitt owns a oil refinery too, but with standard oil continuing to dominate the market, Hewitt may soon be run out of business.

That's why he's here today to ask a favor from his old employee, John D. Rockefeller.

Hewitt reaches the mansion to large oak door and wraps the brass handle.

A maid dressed in black answers, she says she'll fetch Mr. Rockefeller.

A moment later, Rockefeller appears at the door, he's dressed in a brown riding jacket and shoots Hewitt a surprised look.

Mr. Hewitt, what brings you to my home?

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