“Ca’m yo’self, Henry. What’s eatin’ you?”
“Bob, d’you know George shot and killed a nigger buck over in ‘Darktown’ yestiddy mornin’ named Ware?” Lane finally managed to get out.
“Yeh. What about it? George tol me about it las’ night,” was the sheriff’s easy reply.
“Well, that nigger doctor Harper who’s been up No’th studyin’ and come back here las’ fall, come into my office this mornin’ to repo’t it, and he had the gall t’ tell me George done it.”
“Th’ black bastard! What th’ hell’s he got to do with it?”
“Said it was his duty. You bet I tol him good an’ plenty where he got off at. Guess he won’t come in here repo’tin’ no more ‘accidents’ like George run into.”
Sheriff Parker’s face had assumed the colour of an overripe tomato as he jumped to his feet and banged his right fist on the table with a resounding thwack.
“I’ll keep my eye on that nigger,” he promised. “His daddy was as good a nigger as ever I did see, but they ain’t no way o’tellin’ what these young bucks’ll do. Roy Ewing was saying only this mornin’ that Bob, that nigger doctor’s kid brother, was tellin’ him the other day that he’d have to stop them boys ’roun’ the sto’ from botherin’ with th’ nigger gals when they pass by. Humph! They ain’t no nigger gal that’s pure after she’s reached fo’teen years ol’. Yep, I’ll jus’ kep my eye on those boys, and the first chance I git, I’ll—!”
His eyes narrowed in malevolent fashion as he left his threat unuttered.
In the meantime, Kenneth had gone home. He hesitated to talk the matter over with Bob or tell him what had happened to Bud Ware or what had taken place at the court house that morning. Bob was so hotheaded and insults made him angry so easily, he was afraid of what might be the outcome if Bob knew what had occurred. He would breathe a deep sigh of relief when Bob left in the fall to go back to er school. Up in Atlanta there wouldn’t be so many chances for Bob to run up against these white people and, besides, Bob’s studies would keep him busy, leaving little time to brood over the indignities he had suffered. Kenneth determined that when Bob had finished his course at Atlanta University, he would urge him to go to Columbia University or Haryard and study law, and then settle down in some Northern city. It wouldn’t do for Bob to come back as he had done to Central City. Sooner or later Bob’s fiery temper would give way.
He wondered to whom he could turn to talk this thing out. He felt that if he didn’t have a chance soon to unburden his soul to somebody, he would go insane. He thought of his mother. No, that wouldn’t do. His mother had enough to worry about without taking his burdens on her shoulders.
Mamie? No, she wouldn’t do either. She had no business knowing about the sordidness of the affair of Bud Ware and Nancy and George Parker. All her life she had been sheltered and kept away, as much as is possible in a Southern town, from the viciousness and filth and brutality of the race relations of the town.
Mr. Wilson, the clergyman? He was ignorant and coarse, but he had lived in South Georgia all his life and he would know better what to do than anybody else. He determined to go and talk with Mr. Wilson that evening as soon as he was free. He had hardly made the decision when Mr. Wilson non himself entered the reception room and called out to Kenneth as he sat in his office:
“Good mawnin’, Brudder Harper. It certainly has done my heart good to see you attendin’ chu’ch ev’ry Sunday with your folks. Mos’ of these young men and women, as soon’s they get some learning, thinks they’s too good to ’tend chu’ch. But, as I says to them all th’ time, th’ Lawd ain’t goin’ t’ bless none of them, even if they is educated, if they don’t keep close to Him.”
Kenneth rose and showed his visitor to a seat. He did so with an inward repugnance as the coarseness of the man repelled him. Mr. Wilson seemed always overheated even in the coldest weather, and his face shone with a greasiness that seemed to indicate that his body excreted oil instead of perspiration. Yet, perhaps this man could give him some ray of no light, if there was any to be had.
He told Mr. Wilson of his experiences of the past two days. The preacher’s eyes widened with a mild surprise and the unctuous, benevolent mask which he wore most of his waking hours seemed to drop rapidly as he heard Kenneth through to the end without comment. At the same time he dropped his illiterate speech much to Kenneth’s surprise, when he finally spoke.
“Dr. Harper, I’ve been watching you since you came back here. I knew that you were trying to keep away from this trouble that’s always going on around here. That’s just why I came here today. Your case is a hard one, but it’s small to what a lot of these others are feeling. I have asked a number of the more sensible coloured men to meet at any house tonight. I think it would be a good thing to talk over these things and try to find a way to avoid any trouble.”
Kenneth looked at him in surprise, not at the idea of holding a meeting, but at the language the man was using.
“I hope you’ll pardon me for asking so personal a question, Reverend Wilson, but you don’t talk now as I’ve always heard you
