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The Forged Note Part 47

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"Say, Books," laughed Legs. "If you want a get rich, quit the book business, and run into a train with your head. That guy is certainly rich."

"He carries on that way all the time," the Mis' explained. "But he is sane otherwise, that is, he is harmless and lives with his mother down the street a few doors. He goes errands, and you can give him as much as twenty dollars to buy a nickel's worth, and he'll bring back nineteen dollars and ninety five cents. No one can beat him, and he is as honest as the most conservative."

"Let's go to a movie, Books," said Legs, when Sam had disappeared.

"All right," and together, they went down the street in the direction of the business district. When they had arrived at one of the three shows, the pictures did not appeal to them, and they strolled about the town.

The bank, conducted by Negroes, was near the center of the block, and cornered on the alley, and on either side of this was business conducted by or for Negro trade. Within a block of the bank, was located the three shows; and while operated and owned by white men, were patronized entirely by Negroes. It was a puzzle to Wyeth to see his people operating banks with more success than they could picture shows, clothing stores, and even hotels. This was the case not only in Effingham, but in other cities as well. The bank and the neighborhood immediately surrounding it, was the center for Negro gatherings, and upon this street might be found a crowd at any time. Almost every other door seemed to be a restaurant, and operated by Greeks. In fact, this line of business was, apparently, monopolized by these people all over the country. Wyeth saw that this was due to social reasons. A Greek or an Italian, or even a poor Jew, operating a business like a grocery store, or any kind of business, employing less than ten thousand dollars capital stock, lived much within his means; whereas, a colored man in the same business, invariably was, through the connections of his family, a leader in society. These Greeks did not even pretend such a thing, even in a small way among their own, which made a great difference at the end of each year. None of this cla.s.s referred to would think of owning an automobile; whereas, such an a.s.set is common among these black people. Hence, a Negro in any business other than a barbershop, bootblack stand, pressing shop, or business requiring a considerable amount of practical ability, was a rare thing.



Being in business, he is looked to to spend more money, as well. This, Wyeth had found, was not always his preference; but his wife and family usually represented the better colored people, and, therefore, are expected to entertain; are made the object of much flattery and ostentation. There was one who ran a grocery near Miss Palmer's, whom, Wyeth recalled, was the object of much scorn, when discussed. More than once, when he suggested a purchase of a watermelon, or soda water, or some refreshment that might be obtained at a grocery store, he was advised against patronizing the "chinse" on the corner, meaning the colored grocery keeper. And he came to learn, that the only excuse for such a reference, was that he didn't "keep" his wife in society, but made her "slave" in his little old store along with himself.

For this, he was given as little of their trade as possible; but, with careful application and perseverance, he was succeeding to a creditable degree. But the most extraordinary feature of this was, that the druggist received no more of this cla.s.s of trade, than did the grocery keeper, notwithstanding the fact that he was high in society, and was positively of their point of view. Wyeth pa.s.sed much of his spare time talking with the grocery man, and came to find him a most obliging man in every way. When he was informed that Wyeth was selling a book by a Negro, he instructed him to bring him one forthwith, and which he was glad to own, and read it through at once.

So it came to pa.s.s, that in all he saw, Wyeth found many honest and una.s.suming people, and whose interest in the race did not end with a few sweet words and a shrug of the shoulders.

Many colored men were actually succeeding in the grocery business in Effingham, and many of them were referred to as "chinse's," by those purporting to be leaders in society.

Getting back to Sidney Wyeth and Legs, who were uptown for the purpose of attending a picture show. Two of the three shows were operated by the same company, and the playhouses were referred to as capital number one, and capital number two. They were in separate blocks. Legs and Wyeth had been to capital number one, and were turning in the direction of the other, when some excitement was in evidence in that direction. They joined in the crush, and were just in time to see an altercation between a man and a woman, a nice looking woman, brown-skinned, with an unusually heavy head of hair. The man appeared to have called the woman, and was desirous of remonstrating with her about something to which she took exception. She turned to go, and it was then that, like a flash, he drew a long, keen-bladed knife from his pocket, and, without a word, drove it to the hilt in her breast. She walked calmly, perhaps a half dozen steps, and than, with a sudden clutching at the air, she cried: "Oh, I'm so sick!" Wyeth saw her eyes for one moment, and the next, she reeled about, and fell dead at the feet of the crowd.

The murderer saw her, and it was only when she fell, that he appeared to take any notice of the fact that he had committed murder. He now turned and fled up the alley, while the Negroes about him fell back.

"There goes the beast!" cried Legs, pointing him out to Wyeth, and the next moment they followed in close pursuit. A cry from the crowd went up as they disappeared. It warned them that they would be dealt with likewise, but they heeded it not.

They ran up the alley that opened ahead into a wide street. The murderer led them at considerable distance, and, as they hurried after him, they saw his head turning from left to right, evidently looking for some opening in which to escape. But their pursuit was too close. Arriving at the end of the alley, he halted one brief moment, and then turned south.

This street fell rapidly a block, and reached a level in a railroad yard, where long trains of cars stood silently in the pale moonlight. To these he now ran, not looking back at his pursuers. A few minutes later, he had, for a time, disappeared from view behind a car. But determined, with their blood now boiling, the two flew on after him. When they got inside the yards, they caught a glimpse of him crawling along to the other side of a line of cars, to which was. .h.i.tched an engine.

A moment later, this began to move, and, suddenly, while they were yet some distance away, he swung aboard one of the cars and stood on the b.u.mpers. They hurried forward, and caught a car each, a few cars to the rear; while the speed of the train increased. In a few minutes it was flying, and they were hanging dangerously to the side. With quick intuition, Wyeth climbed to the top of the train, and called to Legs when he stood over him, to do likewise. Hurriedly, Legs clambered to the top. As he settled panting on top of the moving train, in the rear and hurrying forward, the light of a brakeman approached. They darted forward, looking carefully between the cars, to ascertain which contained the fugitive. The train now hurried around a bend toward the outskirts of the town, and, as it did so, they saw the creature drop suddenly from between the cars and roll over the embankment, and down the grade which was, perhaps, at this point twenty odd feet.

The train was tearing along now at a speed that made it positively dangerous to alight. Still, the light of the brakeman was only a few cars away, and, inasmuch as they would most likely be severely dealt with if found, they were, for the moment, at a loss what to do. The fugitive had now arisen, and was running again to safety. All they had seen before the electric show now came back to them, and, without regard for the risk they were taking, they quickly clambered to the bottom and fell off the train, just as a curse greeted their ears from the brakeman above.

A moment later, the roar of the train was lost in the distance, and they were alone, but, fortunately, uninjured. The fugitive had, apparently, made good his escape. Disgusted and disgruntled, they started back down the track in the direction from whence they had come. They had gone, it seemed perhaps a half mile, when suddenly a groan came to their ears.

They stopped and listened.

From near where a few stray hedge and weeds had grown up and were tangled and enmeshed, they caught the outline of a man, stretched apparently helpless therein. They hurried forward, Legs in the lead. As they did so, he sighed perceptibly. Legs had now reached the man, and was in the act of bending over him, when Wyeth grabbed him from the rear and jerked him quickly back; but he was in time to save him from the other, who had, like a flash, sprung up and lunged forward with upraised knife.

Having missed, the murderer tumbled forward on his face, and bit the cinders, while Legs raised himself off Wyeth, who had been pushed backward and down by the sudden collision. The other had gained his feet, however, before they got their wits together, and with a mad curse he tore down the tracks. As Wyeth raised himself, his fingers encountered a piece of cinder, heavy with iron. Unconsciously, his fingers encircled it, and when they again started in pursuit, he grasped it.

"We'll kill that beast as he killed that woman," cried Legs, panting dreadfully, but more determined now than ever. With a clear track, and nothing to obstruct the speed, it was now evidently only a question of minutes until they must surely overcome the other who was shorter, and whose speed had become noticeably slower. Legs had got within a few feet of him, when suddenly he stopped short and whirled about. Too late! Legs seemed doomed to meet the point of the upraised knife that glistened in the moonlight. Wyeth at that moment saw the danger of his companion, and, with a cry, he hurled the cinder full at the crouching fugitive.

It went straight, and took the beast full in the face. With a cry, the other fell backward across the track.

Legs tumbled over his prostrate form, while, at that moment, from down the track came the sound of an approaching train. Both now looked up, and it was only then they were aware that it was so near. They were blinded by the light, but with a cry they sprang free, as the light fell full upon the face of the fugitive, who at that moment came to his senses. He staggered forward, and then with a cry that rang above the roar of the train, he stumbled forward, but in rising, one of his feet had caught in a frog and held him fast. A s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g of brakes could be heard, but in a moment the heavy engine crushed over his writhing body, and mangled him until, when he was taken from beneath it, he could not be recognized.

Legs and Wyeth were present the next morning at the inquest. There was no visible excitement over the death of either. A small paragraph at the bottom of the back page of the morning paper reported the death, by stabbing, of a Negro woman; while a still smaller one made notice of the death, in an unusual manner, of the murderer.

And so it was in Effingham. If one desired notoriety he had to do other than kill a Negro, or be killed by one. For such was soon forgotten among other and more unusual sensations.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"_Thou Shalt Not Steal!_"

During Wyeth's canva.s.s among his people, he had become accustomed to regard men who indulged excessively in drinking, as a problematical feature. And when that same man gambled, in addition, and failed to keep his word or oath, he was not in the least surprised. And, moreover, when he became acquainted with a person who loved liquor, gambled likewise, and who did not struggle to secure a job, but was content to walk about in perfect peace, without any effort in that direction, he was not surprised if that person stole, in addition.

The people he stopped with were, in a measure, secretive. That is, they did not always take the trouble to state where they purchased all they had about the house. He took meals with them occasionally, and saw them eating every day; and, although chicken was very high, exceedingly high in Effingham, they had it every day.

The druggist, whose store was a block distant, had inquired of them, and made known the fact that Moore was indebted to him two fifty, but Wyeth paid little attention to this, since, during the warm afternoons, under the cool of the electric fan, he indulged in such reminiscences, and Wyeth knew almost everybody who owed the druggist anything, including Miss Palmer.

Two robberies had occurred in less than two weeks at the place, and both were shrouded in mystery. The first had been explained away very reasonably. A window that was almost hid by vines had been left open, and through this, a "n.i.g.g.a," as they put it, had made his entrance and gotten away, carrying with him a suit of clothes belonging to one of the roomers, who kept himself pretty well soaked with liquor; this roomer happened to be employed at a wholesale liquor house, and was, therefore, able to drink with economy. Sam was his name, but he was not, however, the one who owned the L. & N. R.R. But Sam was an easy go-lucky and didn't care whether school kept or not; and, likewise, didn't make a big noise if something did crawl in through the window, and steal a new thirty-five dollar suit.

As was stated, it was explained, John Moore lost an old derby the same time--at least, this was how he reported it. The green stain upon the window-sill, from the vines his knees crushed, was further evidence of the ingress and the egress. Considerable indignation was shown by Moore, and a great many words were employed over the affair; but, in due time it had died away and was forgotten, when the second came to pa.s.s.

The victim this time happened to be a gloomy and forlorn creature, who could well boast that no miscegenation had prost.i.tuted his ancestors, and whose teeth, in the night, flashed like a diamond necklace. Griffin was his name, and he did not shoot c.r.a.ps, or fight, or get drunk, and Wyeth didn't think he drank, until he saw the Mis' go to make his bed one day, and, in turning back the pillow, revealed a half pint of John.

Griffin reported that it was employed as a medicine, and Wyeth allowed it to go at that, but indulged a smile upon Griffin that meant more.

Wyeth had a way of joking with the eyes that kept him out of difficulties, but convicted and judged those near him, and they could only laugh and look guilty.

One of the other good things we know of Griffin, is that he read the Bible, and nothing else, and said so; moreover, he deplored the reading of anything else, declaring it to be contrary to the laws of G.o.d.

Griffin rarely said Jesus, and never "Jaysus." And--yes, he was a Sunday school teacher, and went to services to a church that was at the other side of town; he shouted when the preacher delivered a soul-stirring sermon, and expected to go to Heaven when he died. Only one thing did Griffin indulge in, though he was careful to keep that to himself, and that was woman--but we are a long way from our story. And still, we cannot leave it, this part of it, until we make known that she was a "high yellow" which is perhaps unnecessary to state, for when the color is like Griffins', they scorn all other kind.

The robber this time employed a more machination method, and he was a very congenial robber also. Out of consideration for Griffin's regular attendance at church, he left an old greasy suit that, due to the great amount of the foreign matter it contained, was likely to last him until finances would enable him to restock for the benefit of the robber.

This robbery occurred one night when he was away, and did not return until the following morning, which was in itself singular, for Griffin was rarely away. It was, like the other, mysterious. Griffin was a miner, and since he would not--so 'twas said--pay twenty-five cents a week for warm water and a towel to clean himself at the mines, he preferred to sleep in the kitchen, because he was unfit to occupy any other portion of the house, unless it was the attic. And since there was none to this house, we leave him in the kitchen, where he slept in a dirty, but warm bed, and kept his clothes--he had some pride--in the strongest trunk Wyeth thought he had ever seen. On the outside, he kept it locked with the strongest Yale spring. With all the high-priced advertising done in regard to the safety of such locks, this robber didn't seem to give a hang, but, with a steel poker, he had twisted and twisted, until Mr. Yale had resigned himself to the inevitable, and permitted ingress. Within were four nice, clean suits, awaiting Griffin's subtle occasions.

Legs, Wyeth and Glenview, who were very agreeable roomers, didn't hear of it until the second morning. And they might not have known then, if it had not happened that they were together in the adjoining room, and overheard Griffin crying over the loss. That happened to be Friday. Legs had become something of a hero, with his successful running down of the murderer, and now played, very successfully, the part of a man. Legs did not positively condone the light fingered method. When they had been led, by their curiosity, to investigate, and had returned to the room, he remarked:

"It beats h.e.l.l the way this place continues to be robbed!"

"It is indeed singular," commented Glenview, whose English was always the most careful. And he never swore.

"Yes," said Legs again, "it _is_ strange. So strange that I'm getting suspicious," and he closed an eye meaningly. "There's a man in the house who has not worked this summer.... He cannot _seem_ to get the kind of work he follows, true; but the fact to be considered, is that he _has_ not worked this summer. He likes to gamble, and is particularly fond of liquah...."

There was a pause, and he closed that eye again, and looked across at Glenview. Glenview closed an eye and looked at Wyeth. Wyeth held his open, but did some rapid thinking. He now recalled that, upon entering, the robber had cut the screen, it was shown to them; but now as he remembered it, the ends of the wires where the screen had been cut pointed outward.... Also, it was reported to have been cut with a hatchet; and the hatchet was on the ground near the window, which was logical.... It was very strange indeed, this robbery.... Legs was speaking again:

"This man who has been out of work all summer, at least has not worked all summer, and who loves liquah better than I do, and who could shoot c.r.a.ps forever and be happy, sleeps within four feet of that trunk. The only thing between him and the trunk is a door that has not been closed this summer.... And who, moreover, if you will recall," he closed that eye again and held it so a second, "awakens always when we enter late at night, and inquires, 'who goes there.' _And this man slept through all this with the trunk almost against his head, and didn't hear it being opened._" He paused again and closed that eye, it was the right; Glenview closed his left, Wyeth closed his too. From the other room came sighs, and a restless turning on the bed where some one lay. On the front porch, John Moore sat with the Bible open before him....

"Have you observed," said Glenview, in his Englishy way, "that the ones who have been robbed, are those most likely to take _his_ story about it, and are not capable of investigating on their own initiative?" Three eyes closed simultaneously. "For instance," he resumed, "there's Sam, always full you know; when I inquired what he had done about it, he replied that he had inquired of one p.a.w.nbroker--and you know there are perhaps a hundred in this town--if any one had offered a suit as security for a loan that fit that description. Think of it! And now here comes the instance of this old creature we hear sighing in the kitchen; and who reads nothing but the Bible, and goes to church on Sunday. He hasn't sense enough, and nerve, he doesn't know; he has perhaps called on the Lord to restore those things. Why haven't some of our things been stolen?" ... Again three eyes closed, while memories became the order; the memory of Wyeth's conflict, and they didn't forget that of Legs. "We leave them laying around, and none of us lock our trunks.... You," he said, seeing Legs, "have more suits than any of us, and they hang on the wall...."

John Moore had fallen asleep and the Bible had tumbled to the floor. A street car line came past the door, and the cars, when pa.s.sing, filled the house with noise. One pa.s.sed at this moment, and he was suddenly awakened. Looking about hastily for the Bible he had held, he saw it on the floor at his feet. He stooped to pick it up, and as he did so, saw that it was open. As his hand touched it, his eyes lit upon a chapter, whereupon he straightened up quickly. A moment later he picked it up, and rising, entered the house.

The words of the chapter that had disconcerted him for the moment were: "_Thou Shalt Not Steal!_"

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