The Forged Note Part 67

"Oh, no, but I am curious to know what it contains," and she turned it over, while her face lit with a little smile that was carefree. He saw it, and said:

"Why dear, if it will please you, open it as the last thing in the old year."

"Oh, brother, that is so nice of you," and she took the knife he handed her, opened it, and quickly cut the strings. A package was enclosed, tied with paper. She pursued the task of cutting strings, and then, as she unwrapped the paper from about it she mused:

"Oh, I wonder what it can be!" It was open now, and two pairs of eyes opened their widest, while her voice cried:

"Wilson, Wilson! My G.o.d! It's money! _It's money to save the Y.M.C.A.

for our people!_" Both now regarded the clock. Fifteen minutes was left to reach the Y.M.C.A. building thirteen blocks away! It was she who spoke:

"Go brother! In G.o.d's name, go!"

Had it been any other night but the night of December thirty-first, a man who tore wildly down the middle of the street, bareheaded, and with a woman with hair flowing loosely behind her, the officers on duty would surely have made an arrest. But as it was, they only smiled amusedly, as they remarked a new freak of meeting the new year. How little did any feel or know that upon that wild run, depended one hundred thousand dollars for the salvation of thousands of black youth, until the end of time....

The papers carried the account in large headlines the following morning.

"REVEREND WILSON JACOBS SPRINGS A COUP

"Energetic worker and secretary of the Y.M.C.A. for the colored people raised twenty-five thousand dollars, and completed the condition of the a.s.sociation at two minutes of twelve o'clock last night. Two minutes later, more than seventy-five thousand dollars would have been unavailable for the purpose."

In a column and a half, the people of the city and elsewhere read the account of the wonderful victory that meant so much for the colored people of the city, of which the population was two-fifths. It was likewise a victory for the white people, all of whom could appreciate the fact. In securing the same, the city, with the unenviable reputation of being one of the most criminal cities in the world, now took first place in the line for uplift among the colored people, as it would be the only city in the south to have a Y.M.C.A. for its black population.

The fact made thousands of black people buy the blind tigers and drugstores out of whiskey on New Years day. _It was their greatest day since freedom!_

In Grantville, everybody wondered how they had done it, and in Effingham and Attalia; and then the people of the fortunate city wondered too, after their excitement had cooled and they could think. Wilson Jacobs wondered likewise, and so did Constance. Everybody wondered.

But they never knew.

END OF BOOK THREE

BOOK IV

CHAPTER ONE

"_'Scriminatin' 'G'inst n.i.g.g.a's_"

"Do you read d' papers?"

"A' co'se I does. Wha' kind-a 'sinuations y're tryin' t' pa.s.s on me, n.i.g.g.a?" said one, whose feelings were, at that moment, very much injured.

The heavy train pulled c.u.mbersomely to the summit, and stopped a moment, while the switch engine attached to the rear, was uncoupled. A moment later, it continued on its way.

Miles to the rear and below Effingham it struggled for one brief moment, and then, as a curve in the mountain was being made, it finally disappeared from view.

Sidney Wyeth settled back in his seat in the front end of the Jim Crow car, and, with his feet spread over the seat ahead, prepared himself languidly to enjoy the four hundred odd miles that were before him.

Only half a car, possibly not that much, was given over to the use of the colored pa.s.sengers. It was as comfortable as the other part of the train, however, so no discrimination was evident. The portion given to them was, of course, next to the baggage car; while far to the rear, as he observed when the train rounded a curve, fully eight or ten cars were more or less filled with white pa.s.sengers. About half the number were Pullmans.

"Den 'f y' read d' papers, yu autta know 'bout dis 'scrimination dat is a-goin' on up dere in Was.h.i.+ngton," he overheard between three or four Negroes a few seats to the rear.

"Ah reads th' papers eve' day; but I 'on know wha' you's a-drivin' at,"

contended another.

"Den you do'n read d' papers den, case all dis accurred up dere las'

fall, 'n' dere was a big awgument 'bout it, 'n' all de no'then papers done took sides agi'nst d' president."

"Aw, sho!" cried the second speaker now quickly. "Ah knows what youah talkin' 'bout now, sho thing!" And he nodded his head understandingly.

The other observed him nevertheless, dubiously, but was patient while the other enlightened him.

"Yeh; you 'ferrin' t' dat bill dey had up dare about 'scriminatin'

ag'inst n.i.g.g.a's. M-m. Yeh. Des 'ere bill was a pretest from--well, somebody up no'th, a'-cose; but it's to make dem stop havin' n.i.g.g.a's eatin' in d' kitchen, dat us it, sho," and he looked about him into the faces of the listeners.

The first speaker, confident at first that he was going to show the other up as not knowing as much as he, looked a trifle disappointed; but he didn't grant the other the benefit of the doubt.

The second speaker went on:

"Yeh, I don read all 'bout dat. Yu see," he explained very ostentatiously, "dare was 'n' editor, a sma't n.i.g.g.a frum Boston who had done _been t' school 'n' graduated frum college, and knowed ebreting_, 'n' 'e 'as a bill down dare t' Was.h.i.+ngton, 'n' eve' body says t' 'im: 'Why 'on' you take dat bill up 'n' make d' president sign it!' So dis n.i.g.g.a 'e finally git mad 'n' takes it 'roun' to de president's office, 'n' shows it to'im 'n' tole him: 'Sign it!' Now, dy president he look at it, and read it over a little. Then 'e jumped up outer 'is chaeh, 'n'

says: 'I won' sign tha' bill!' 'N' dey says 'e got awful mad, 'n'

sto'med aroun' fo' 'n' houh.

"So dis Boston n.i.g.g.a 'e got mad den, too, 'n' den 'e got du' president tole. Says 'e: 'I voted fo' yu; 'n' so did a lotta udder crazy n.i.g.g.a's, 'n' now we 'us about t' be drivin outta du race, kase why? So now, I dun come all d' way heah frum Boston wi' dis bill that I wants you t' sign, t' make dese secretaries quit fo'cin' n.i.g.g.a's t' eat in d' kitchen!' Den du president 'e got madder still, 'n' wants t' fight. But they pa'ts 'm, but d' president 'lows: 'I won' sign dat bill, I won' sign it!' 'E stamps 'is foot den, 'e be so mad. But dis n.i.g.g.a, 'e ain' no southern darkey 'n' 'e stans pat, an 'monstrates dat 'e will sign it, ah dare won' no mo' n.i.g.g.a's t' vote fo' 'im fo' president. Well, du' president 'e is so mad dat he sto'm, 'n' finally says: 'I won' sign dat bill, I won' sign hit! Befo' I'll sign that bill--'n' 'e strikes 'is desk wi'

'is fist--'I'll qui' mah job!'"

"But," said another, who, up to this time, had taken no part in the harrangue, "the president, ah taut, ain' axed t' sign a bill ontell it had been acted on by congress."

The others looked at each other now, in some surprise. Then they observed the speaker, in a manner that was serene with contempt, for his apparent ignorance. (?) Then the second speaker said:

"Aw, dis bill, y' see, 'us a secret. Dey wa'nt but three people knowed 'bout it. 'N' dey was du editor and du president--'n'--," he was thoughtful now, as he meditated for a moment, and then said, "_Roosevelt!_"

By this time the train had gotten under way, and it thundered on its way southward, down among the scrub pines that stood back from the single track. Croppings of iron, Wyeth observed, reached far to the south of Effingham, while the country, as far as soil was concerned, was a desolate lot of red clay and rock. The train tore through numerous little towns, consisting of a number of shacks, built mostly of plain boards, standing straight up and down, with smaller boards nailed on the cracks. Before some of these shanties played white children, whose appearance showed the life they lived, which was apparently that of poverty; while at some distance, he also observed were other houses, not as respectable as those behind which white children played, and occupied by Negroes. Little patches of cleared land that was scratched over, denoted that agriculture was attempted in even this poor soil. By the slenderness of the dead stalks, he could see that it would take many acres to produce a bale of cotton.

On to the south the train hurried, and as they neared the capital of the state, he observed, with some encouragement, that the soil grew a little deeper; but, at the best, would have been laughed at back in the _Rosebud Country_. And the same sight met his gaze all along. This had once been a proud, aristocratic state; but, he wondered if it became so by the returns of crops from such poor land. Yet he was seeing only a small part of it from the car window.

A cotton gin greeted the traveler at almost every station; while everywhere the scrub pines and rocks were largely in evidence. If all the state was like what he saw from the car window, with the exception of that which lay about the capital for a distance of fifteen or twenty miles, he scarcely wondered that so many Negroes preferred the city, where wages were sufficient to give them something in life.

It was a cold, disagreeable day in the beginning; but, as afternoon wore on, he was cheered to see the elements clear, and the air become warmer.

The highlands were behind them now, and had given place to great trees, while back from the track log houses interspersed the forest here and there. The further south the train pulled, the deeper became the swamp, while the trees towered to heights that could not be fully estimated from the car window. The atmosphere, which had before been dry, was now charged with a peculiar dampness, that seemed to rise from the earth, which melted away from the tracks.