Harris Dickson

“ A white-washed shanty faced the railroad tracks; a dozen shaky steps led up to the gallery. The fat man who leaned against the door, the two or three others who sat on boxes and a bench—not one of them resembled a nigger who was itchin' to donate ten dollars unto Samuel. Sunlover glanced over his shoulder, as a doubtful mule wags his ear and looks back when he's expecting a tug on the reins. Fessor gave no sign; Sam hesitated, stopped and returned, “Look here, Mister, what kind o' talk is dis? I can't git ten dollars out o' dem niggers.” ”

“ Sam felt mighty peevish at this spindling negro sitting on a soap box holding a bag of dust against his jaw. Little Dave got impatient: “Come on Fess; open her up; we wants to lose our money quick.”
The huddle of negroes crowded out to the front gallery; Sam got a good start, half way down the steps, then turned to listen to what Fessor was saying: “Lemme understand this bet real good. If this sack is full o' soda I gets the stakes; if it aint full o' soda y'all gets the stakes.” ”

“ Sunlover followed him a few steps and halted reluctantly, watching the good humored roly-poly walk of the man who never thought of watching or distrusting him. Sam began to have misgivings. “I hates fer dem niggers to git dat ole gent'man's money—an' him placin' pendence on me. Treasurers acks mighty tricky.”
Sunlover had such a deep distrust of treasurers that he stepped into a store and sunk that wad of money deep in his sock.
Scar-face and Fessor could not wait the return of their sample pigeon; they made a sortie in force and dragged him in side: “Whar's dat money?” ”

“ Fessor reached behind a barrel and set his grip-sack in the middle of the floor.
“How we gwine to git rid o' dis nigger?” Scar-face inquired.
“Easy; send him down to the river to land another white man.”
Sunlover came out of the bank with two hundred and twenty-five dollars, good money, stuffed in his breeches pocket. Captain Porter stopped in the door, took out a cigar for himself and gave one to Sam—from the same case. “Huh!” Sam observed, “he don't tote one kind o' seegyars fer hisself, an' another kind fer niggers.” ”

“ Slick-head and Little Dave stood gloomily beside it. From his window Fessor tossed them a tobacco sack: “Here's yo' bag o' dust; aint you 'shamed trying to rob a man what's got the toothache?”
Dave and Slick-head grinned—bravely, as men with toothache.
“Vicksburg! All out for Vicksburg!”
Sunlover took one last long drink of free ice water and edged up close to Fessor. As they crowded out of the car Fessor whispered, “Watch where I go, an' come in after a while.”
They climbed the steep sidewalk to Washington Street. Fessor turned to the left and hurried along with his head down ”

“ Scar-face smiled, and the dent showed deeper in his cheek.
“What kind o' pickin's?” Sam inquired dubiously.
“Best kind; our company gits labor for planters, an' you is de sample. If de white man likes de way you talk he pays us to git him a lot o' han's.”
“I sho kin talk to white folks.” Sam bobbed his head confidently.
Fessor slapped him on the back. “Mister Treasurer, you needn't bother about Henry; aint I seen him out-talk old Hooker an' keep off the chain gang. He's the kind o' nigger that white folks believe.” Fessor snapped his watch. “Half past eight; we better get a move on us. ”

“ Sunlover released one of his justly celebrated smiles. “Sholy, boss; you jes oughter see dem niggers go throo a cotton patch—same as a swarm 0' locusts, an' don't leave nothin'; dey warn't no time pickin' cotton off dem gullies dis year; didn't make none.”
“Have you any stock?” Sunlover glibly enumerated the pigs, mules, cows, chickens, wagons, etcetera, that his family owned. Captain Porter nodded approvingly: “What railroad do you live on?” ”

“ Slick-head promptly planked down.
“Here's my two,” said Little Dave. Sandy dodged around the counter. Before he could get back with three dollars the other negroes had covered two of it. Sandy kicked: “Is dat all I git's outen dis bettin'? Aint it my store?”
Sunlover stood upright with twenty dollars in hand, and sorely troubled. Did Fessor mean for him to run with the money? Those square-rimmed specks kept fastened on the floor and gave no hint. ”

“ Sam looked bewildered while Fessor and Scar-face argued with him: “Aint you cotch on yit? You'se de sample—white folks wants half-growed boys. Tell 'em you owes fifty dollars to yo' boss an' it takes fifty mo' to move. ”

“ Sam had a fixed notion that the treasurer got the treasury, and Fessor hastened to explain, “You gits yo' p'cent. You knows what percentage is?”
Sam straightened up. “Co'se I knows what p'centage is—two bits on a dollar, ev'y month.”
“Sholy,” chimed Scar-face. “Now, lissen: Yo' name is Luke Thomas; you got a wife an' two half-growed boys, an' a mule an' a waggin, an' a cow an' some pigs. White folks loves to git niggers what raises pigs. You lives on Dr. ”

“ They dressed him, coached him, and were leading him forth when Scar-face changed his mind: “Hole up, Fessor; I'm skittish 'bout sendin' this nigger out o' here wid them gray clo'es on. Police is lookin' fer dem clo'es. Come back.”
Sam promptly came back—far back into the room. While the other two were wrangling he scuffled out of that gray suit. “De p'leece may fine dese clo'es, but dey wont fine me in 'em—dat's one shore thing.”
Fessor laughed: “We ought to dress him up fine for the Cap'n. Cap'n loves for niggers to look like they makes plenty money. ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1946, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 77 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”