The Forged Note Part 55

"What, then, is the cause of this failure? You have answered it in the pages of this ma.n.u.script.

"I am going to publish it. And in doing so, I am forewarned that it is going to arouse a world of indignation among your people, or I miss my guess. But it needs to be done. Something should come before them, to awaken this sluggishness with regard to uplift among their own. So you may look for it--the entire article, on the front page of next Sunday's issue. Good day!"

"That was sure a dirty deal Dr. Randall and Dr. Bard handed Tempest, wasn't it?" remarked L. Jones, editor and owner of the Effingham _Reporter_, colored, to his a.s.sistant.

"I don't fully understand. What was it? I hear that Wyeth bet, or rather, made a bet with Dr. Bard about something," said the other, attentively.

"Made a bet with Bard and beat him a mile and Bard, through his friends.h.i.+p with Randall, who has had it in for Wyeth since he came here, over a bet that Wyeth won from him, hedged on it the dirtiest you can imagine."

"Tell me in detail about it," requested the other. At that moment, a private detective entered the office, and, upon overhearing the conversation, said:

"I can tell you all about it, because I was there when the bet was made.

"It was like this, or came about in this way: Down at the drug store, Wyeth has had the nerve--I guess that is how you can place it, since the bunch, including Bard and Randall--especially Randall, don't appear to appreciate that any one knows anything but themselves. At least, they have been this way in regard to that fellow Wyeth. So an argument came about that Wyeth got into. He quoted an editorial in regard to the prosperity of California, and mentioned that California had more automobiles, in proportion to population, than any state in the union.

Randall had no reason to take exception to this, further than he was so anxious to put this Wyeth in the wrong. He started an argument, but, of course, he had his dose last summer and knew--if he would have admitted it--that Wyeth was not arguing on something he didn't know. But Bard, who accepts Randall as the man who knows everything, and who has argued so much that he would try to down anybody for the sake of it, was regardless as to the merit. Bard took exception. Those fellows cannot appreciate anybody's knowing anything, unless he is a doctor. So, in the course of the argument, Bard offered to bet Wyeth five dollars, that the state of Iowa had more automobiles than California, in proportion to its population. Wyeth called him, and they put up the money.

"I heard Bard explaining to one of their friends, that Iowa had so many automobiles; but was away down when it came to population. Wyeth overheard him, and agreed that Iowa _did_ have lots of machines, but that he was wrong in regard to its being away down in population. That, in fact, Iowa had almost as many people as California. The crowd ridiculed such an idea, and cited the big cities of California, as an evidence of the fact. 'There is no call for argument when the same is down in black and white. Look it up in the census,' Wyeth declared. Bard colored, while Randall fished around in his belongings, and found a book containing the last government census report. Now, what do you think of a bunch that are always arguing, and not one of them knew the population of either of those great states. Not a one, and most of them graduated from college. Which showed that they have not studied what is around them, while Wyeth had.

"The report they found, had Iowa's population for fifteen years before.

'Wrong,' said Wyeth calmly. 'Well, here it is in black and white,' they all cried at once. 'But it's wrong, I say,' declared Wyeth. 'You can't convince Tempest on anything,' declared Randall disgustedly. 'You cannot convince me that Iowa has not increased in population in fifteen years.

The census you are poring over there, is fifteen years old.' They were taken aback. They looked at the top of the page and saw they were all wrong again. Not a word did they say. No, they wouldn't admit in words to him, that they were wrong when it was before them. Wyeth called the population, and when they looked just to the side, there it was. It was the same with California. And still, not one of that bunch said: 'By jove! He's right.' No, but they all knew then that he had won that bet.

And Dr. Bard was sick. Just sick, while Randall was sore with himself.

"Now here is how they hedged and kept from paying it: Wyeth wrote to two of the biggest motor magazines, and to the department of commerce. The department of commerce wrote back that the information he required, could be gotten by consulting the magazine he had written to, and stated what issues gave it. Wyeth brought the issues and the letters. They then claimed that they would accept the information from the secretaries of the states only. He wrote to these people, and, strange to say, they did not answer. And that was how they hedged. There was only one of the bunch that frequents the place regularly, who was man enough to tell them how cheap it was, and that was Dr. Landrum. He purchased Wyeth's book and read it, and told Wyeth that he had done finely for a beginner; Randall has had more criticism to offer upon it than any one else, but would not, of course, honor Wyeth by buying one."

"I guess he more than paid for one, from what I have heard," laughed Jones, and related the incident of the bet, which had become known about town.

"Well," said the detective, "they are giving him the laugh down there now, about how Randall called him on his criticisms."

"I heard about that, too," said Jones. "But you take it from me. That fellow is going to make a fool of those fellows yet. The man has something up his sleeve behind all this criticism he is accused of, and I am looking for him to do something. I don't know what it will be; but I feel in my bones, that it will be something that we will all know about."

"I agree with you," said the detective. "That fellow has no college education like Randall and Bard, and others, that feel they are the only fish in the pond; but he is a walking encyclopedia when it comes to every day facts about our country and the people, and some day we are going to hear from him otherwise than through the pages of his book. He didn't know all about writing when he wrote that; but it's some book at any rate," and with that, he rose and went his way.

Sunday was a beautiful day. The air was calm and soft. A crowd was on hand early at Randall's pharmacy, as was the usual custom on Sunday.

"Well," said Randall cheerfully, "today is fine. Wonder where Tempest is." And he looked about at the others, amusedly. A t.i.ttering went the rounds.

"He appears to be somewhat scarce about these premises, since you called him some days ago," said Bard, whereupon there was some more t.i.ttering.

"Well, guess I'll look over the paper, since our wise friend isn't around to teach us something," and, smothering his glee, he uncovered the _Age-Herald_. Laying the funny pages aside, he allowed his gaze to fall upon the front page of the general news section.

"What in h.e.l.l!" he exclaimed, in the next breath.

"What is it, Ran?" cried the crowd.

"NEGRO SAYS RACE FACES DREADFUL CONDITIONS, DUE TO LACK OF INTEREST BY THEIR LEADERS. SAYS SELFISHNESS IS SO MUCH THE ORDER THAT THERE IS NO INTEREST WHATEVER TOWARD UPLIFT. PROFESSIONAL NEGRO THE WORST."

"Have you read this?" cried Professor Dawes, bursting in a few minutes later. "What do you think of it?" He was very much excited. So were many others.

"That Negro's crazy!" cried Professor Ewes, of the Mater School.

Professor Ewes had read Wyeth's book, which was loaned to him by one of his teachers, who had purchased it from one of Wyeth's agents, in two payments. She had loaned it to Professor Ewes, and Professor Ewes had, in turn, loaned it to Professor Dawes, and Professor Dawes had, in turn, loaned it to another professor, and after all three had read it, it was returned to the original purchaser, who had seen the advertis.e.m.e.nt, that it was on sale at the biggest white store in the south, and had been inspired to subscribe for it, on that account. When the book was returned to her, she had read fifty odd pages and liked it, so she told Miss Palmer. She further said, she hoped some day to know the young man, who had written such a great story. And then Miss Palmer told her. Forthwith, all interest became an argument.

"Do you mean to say, that fellow is the author of the book?" she inquired of her professor.

"Oh, yes," he said.

When the agent called for the remainder due, he was handed the book, with a statement that it was positively N.G. When the agent opened it, as he was leaving the rear of the house of the wealthy white people, a book mark dropped from between pages fifty and fifty-one.

"Did you read what he said about the teachers?" exclaimed a supernumerary, stopping in at the drug store, and seeing everybody excited over the article. Jones came in behind her.

"This is where you come in for a big article in your next week's issue,"

said Randall, who didn't take any Negro paper, shoving the article under the eyes of the Negro editor.

"I'm afraid Mr. Wyeth has said all I would liked to have said," he replied calmly.

"What!" several cried, in consternation. "Do you mean to say that you would have talked about the best people as this man has!"

"I mean that I would have tried to. I do not consider that I possess the ability to arrange it as he has. You see, his range and vision is beyond mine, which has been confined to the southland. While he has studied every section of the country we call the United States, and he has, as you will observe, written this article in appreciation of that point of view."

"But, great goodness, Jones," cried Randall, very much excited, and likewise forgetting that he did not subscribe for nor advertise in Jones' paper, which was the best Negro paper in the state. Because, he said to everybody but Jones himself, it was N.G., and didn't pay to advertise in it. "See what he has said about our teachers!"

"I have seen it. What of it?"

"It's dreadful--terrible!"

"About the park and library, you mean?"

"Sure!"

"How can you say that--or anything to the contrary, when you know all he has related there is true?"

Randall hesitated embarra.s.sed for a moment, then said: "But he needn't have made such an issue of it!"

"But it's true?"

"Well--yes--of course it's true. But--"

"And about this crime, etc.?"

"Yes--but--"

"He shouldn't have told it where the white people can read it," a.s.sisted Jones, grimly. Those about became quiet very quickly, and looked at each other. Jones saw the lay of the land, and took his leave.

"At last, at last!" he cried to himself, as he went up the street, "the turning point has been reached. When I write again of civic conditions in my paper, and show up the fallacies among our own, it'll be read and notice taken of it."