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Pointing the Way
SUTTON E GRIGGS
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NASHVILLE, TENN.
THE ORION PUBLISHING COMPANY
1908


DEDICATION.
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO
MY WIFE,
IN THE HOPE THAT SHE MAY FIND HEREIN SOMEWHAT OF AN EXPLANATION
OF THAT OCCASIONAL FAR-AWAY LOOK IN THE EYES, OF WHICH,
1N HER WIFELY SOLICITUDE, SHE HAS FROM TIME
TO TIME QUITE PROPERLY MADE
COMPLAINT.
THE AUTHOR.


BOOKS BY SUTTON E. GRIGGS:
“IMPERIUM IN IMPERIO''
**OVERSHADOWED''
“UNFETTERED"
“THE HINDERED HAND''
“THE ONE GREAT QUESTION”
“POINTING THE WAY.”


CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. PAGE.
A FACE OF MYSTERY................................... 7
CHAPTER II.
A PUZZLED LAWYER. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
CHAPTER III.
OBJECTIONS To A MARRIAGE. ............................ 29
CHAPTER IV.
THE VISIT IS MADE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
CHAPTER V.
YET DEBATING... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
CHAPTER VI.
SHE INVESTIGATES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
CHAPTER VII.
THE PARSON FLEES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61.
CHAPTER VIII.
UNCLE JACK's CoNVERSION............................. 69
CHAPTER IX.
THE MAN APPEARs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
CHAPTER X.
CoNROE DRISCOLL. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
CHAPTER XI.
EINA BEGINS TO PLAN. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
CHAPTER XII.
THAT IS THE QUESTION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
CHAPTER XIII.
EINA AND BAUG. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IOO
CHAPTER XIV.
A STRANGE LETTER... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IO4
CHAPTER XV.
SHE INSISTs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . III
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CRUx . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . II6
CHAPTER XVII.
MoLAIR ON THE ALERT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I25
- CHAPTER XVIII.
KickBD OUT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I32


CHAPTER I.
A FACE OF MYSTERY.
|HY, dear, what on earth—”
'W'. The question thus begun was never
"finished. As to why the questioner felt im-
pelled to begin the query only to drop it uncere-
moniously in its unfinished state it will presently
appear. -
It was midday, and a midsummer sun of the
Southern skies was beating down fiercely upon
that loveliest of all Southern cities, Belrose, the
very mention of whose name recalls to those who
have seen it, visions of a cleanly, hustling business
center, well-regulated streets, beautiful but not
Ostentatious suburban homes, an amplitude of
trees with rich green foliage, rows of magnolias,
testifying by leaf and flower to the exuberance of
the gifts of soil and air; recalls that air of Seren-
ity that pervades the city at eventide as the hum
of business grows less, as night begins to deftly
weave her robe of gloom, as the glare of the elec-
tric lights comes forth to aid a shirking moon and
the timid stars.
But we must get back to the hot, Sultry day,
and not be tempted from our recital by the phys-
ical charms of the city of Belrose. The extreme
heat of the day was indicated by swiftly moving
fans and upraised parasols in the hands of the


8 POINTING THE WAY.
lady pedestrians on the streets, by the holding
of hats in their hands and coats on their arms
on the part of the men, and by the almost religious
zeal with which shady spots were sought by
those whose missions called upon them to wait.
On the faces of all there was a half-encouraged,
half-resisted look of worriment. One fat, rotund
man, rather low of stature, came toddling along,
his collar and his handkerchief drenched with
perspiration, while his good nature made a last
grand stand against the efforts of the atmosphere
to vex him beyond measure. To a leaner com-
panion walking by his side he said:
“By gosh, Jim, this is about the best time I'll
get, don’t you think?”
“For what?” asked his companion.
“For croaking. I guess it's all settled where
a rounder like me is to go when he pegs out. I
was just thinking that if I could drop out of Bel-
rose to-day and land at Once in His Satanic
Majesty's big kitchen, the change of atmosphere
would not be so violent as to upset my delicate
system. See?”
Among the vehicles passing along Broadway
was a phaeton occupied by two young women, one
of them being closely veiled; the other was driv-
ing. Suddenly the young lady who was driving
lowered the phaeton top and thus invited a more
direct contact with the rays of the zealous sun.
The lady with the veil had just arrived in Bel-
rose from more northerly regions, and the heat,


A FACE OF MYSTERY. 9
oppressive to the native Belrosans, was doubly so
to her. Imagine, therefore, her surprise at the
seemingly purposeless lowering of the phaeton top,
which act on the part of her friend begot the un-
finished query to which we have just listened.
But, as we have said, the question was not finished,
for at that instant the eye of the veiled lady wan-
dered to the near street corner to the left, just
ahead of them, and something there seemed to
arouse in her a sharp, deep interest. Abandoning
the unfinished question the veiled lady propounded
another.
Looking straight ahead, she said quickly: “Clo-
tille, be circumspect about it, but let the horse
walk slowly, and look at that man standing on the
near corner to your left. Who is he?”
Clotille did as directed, and said: “To be sure,
I see several men on the corner, Eina.”
“Oh, I mean the man, the man with his hat in
one hand and a handkerchief in the other.”
Clotille cautiously stole a second glance in the
direction indicated. A merry laugh with an un-
dercurrent of satisfaction that did not escape
Eina's acute ear, and which in later days she so
vividly recalled, came from Clotille, somewhat to
Eina's confusion.
“Now, Clotille, at what are you laughing? Is
the gent in question Belrose's all-conquering gal-
lant? And do you think that I have fallen a vic-
tim to his charms and—at sight, too? Why, Clo-


10 POINTING THE WAY.
tille Strange!” said Eina, in loving, reproachful
tones.
“Oh, be fair to me, Eina. Cannot your friend,
Clotille, indulge in a tiny laugh when Eina of the
cold heart (when it comes to the sterner sex)
happens to see a strange, handsome young man,
and takes so much as even a passing interest in
him? Is it not time for me to sit up and take
notice?”
“Eina changeth not, Clotille.”
“My dear, dear girl, I do not misjudge you. I
know only too well of the steel casing about your
heart,” said Clotille, dropping her playful tone.
“Well, back to that little laugh of yours, Clotille.
Why did you laugh when I made my inquiry con-
cerning the man with his hat in his hand? There
was something behind that laugh, Clotille.”
“Let us take up things in their order, Eina.
We will come to the smile by and by, but let us
first deal with the man.”
“All right, the man, then,” rejoined Eina.
“The man’s name is Baug Peppers.”
“Why, Clotille!” exclaimed Eina, almost rising
from the buggy seat. “You must be mistaken. No
being with a head, and face, and eyes such as that
man has could ever have so unpoetic a name.
Baug! Peppers! It is simply ridiculous,” said
Eina, with evident warmth, her sense of the eter-
nal fitness of things being grievously outraged.
“Well, that is his name, just the same,” said
Clotille.


A FACE OF MYSTERY. 11
“Clotille, you may think so, he may think so,
but as assuredly as your name is Clotille Strange,
that man’s real name is not Baug Peppers. I know
it is not.”
“Well, we will waive that question for the time
being. Now that you know what his name is at
least said to be, what have you further to say?”
asked Clotille.
“His mind has certainly written itself on his
face. He is brainy and true. One can see that
at a glance. It seems to me that I have seen him
before,” said Eina.
“When 2 Where?” asked Clotille.
“I don’t just recall,” said Eina.
“I will give you a few moments in which to
recall just when and where you met him, and will
not disturb you with my chatter while you reflect,”
Said Clotille.
Eina now leaned back in the phaeton and gave
herself up to an earnest effort to recall just when,
where, and under what circumstances she had
seen this Mr. Baug Peppers before. The thing
that puzzled her most was that Mr. Peppers was
a man of such a striking personal appearance that
people generally would be supposed to have no
difficulty in recalling having seen or met him, but
here she was, almost positive that she had seen
him before, and yet utterly unable to in any
manner trace the impression.
By and by Eina said: “Clotille, I give it up.
Every now and then it seems as though my


12 POINTING THE WAY.
mind is upon the point of grasping the solution as
to his face, whereupon it nimbly slips by and
eludes me.”
“Now, I will explain my smile,” said Clotille.
“The impression created by that man’s face is
Belrose's standing mystery, and is a most unique
phenomenon. To begin with, the face seems to
impress every one. We Belrosans all like to look
at it, it matters not how often we have seen it.
Visitors invariably pay special attention to it, and
it always arouses the thought in them that they
have seen it before or some face that greatly re-
sembles it. But we have yet to find the person who
has stated that he has satisfied his own conscious-
ness as to the identity of the other face suggested
by this face. So there comes into the minds of
Strangers and there lives in our minds a sug-
gested personality that ever remains nameless.”
“How very, very queer,” said Eina, quietly, still
trying to condense the nebulous thought that had
been sent floating through her mind by the face.
“At times,” continued Clotille, “we have had
conventions of national scope to assemble here,
and have entertained groups of delegates at Social
gatherings; and it was at one time a source of
much amusement to us to have our guests One
after another go through the same series of ques-
tions and answers that you and I in the first in-
stance indulged in to-day with regard to that face
until the matter became so tiresome to Baug that


A FACE OF MYSTERY. 13
he began to avoid all social gatherings at which
strangers were likely to be present.”
“He knows, then, of the peculiar impression
made by his face,” remarked Eina.
“Oh, yes, and he has gotten so that, when
introduced, he quietly remarks before the stranger
gets an opportunity to make the stereotyped com-
ment which he knows is forthcoming, “Of course
you think you have seen me before, or think you
have seen someone that looks like me, but for
the life of you, you can’t tell where you saw me
nor who it is that I resemble, so let us pass all
that by,’” said Clotille.
“Decidedly interesting, and I, Eina Rapona, am
going to try to find an answer to the puzzle.
Somehow I feel that something great, some-
thing tremendous lies behind this Belrose phe-
nomenon. I am not a prophetess, nor the seventh
daughter of a seventh daughter, but I venture
the prediction that I shall furnish an explanation
of this phenomenon, and that, upon discovery,
it will excite more interest than it does as a mys-
tery. Mark my words, I feel it. I know not why.
I am not a sentimentalist at all, but there is
something great betokened by that man’s face and
some tremendous fact lies behind it,” Eina re-
marked.
Had Eina been observing Clotille's face closely
she ought to have been able to see that this re-
solve on her part was for some reason giving Clo-
tille a deep measure of satisfaction.


A FACE OF MYSTERY. 15
the surrounding territory. As Eina entered the
cottage yard she was thrilled with the beauty of
the Scene before her.
“Oh, Clotille, you are a born artist. Just look
at that rich green grass; at the lovely arrange-
ment of the rose bushes; at the star-shaped beds
from which those tiny flowers, of every tint and
hue, peep at one so sweetly! Look at those pretty
ferns. They haven’t the petals of the flowers, but
they seem to know their beauty and are careful to
display it.” -
Lifting her eyes to the beautifully shaped cottage,
she gazed at the profusion of honeysuckles
that clambered over and fully covered the cottage
walls.
“Oh, I share with you your love of the snug cot-
tage, you dear clinging honeysuckles. It would
seem to me that if I were dead and should pass
this way, this beautiful spot would awaken my
soul and call me back to life again,” said Eina, her
bosom heaving with the delight that surged up
from her heart.
Tears of joy stood in Clotille's eyes, for upon
her had fallen the whole task of choosing and
arranging this home for her wealthy friend, and
she was therefore highly gratified that her friend
seemed so well pleased.
As they stood making a survey of the place, the
Negro servant, a tall, aged man, came walking
around the house. He had an erect, soldierly
carriage, which was somewhat modified by the


16 POINTING THE WAY.
humble carrying of his hat in his hand and the
deferential inclining of his head slightly forward,
a combination of dignity and humility. His mus-
tache, beard and hair were white, and his solemn
face thus enveloped would have been a little awe-
some but for the kindly light that gleamed in his
eyes.
Clotille whispered to Eina, saying, “That old
man is as honest as a monk, as solemn as an owl,
and as keen a lover of the humorous as you ever
saw.”
“Indeed! He does not look it,” said Eina.
When the servant had approached as near as
an attitude of profound deference would permit,
Clotille said, “Uncle Jack, this is Miss Eina Ra-
pona, who is to be your landlady.”
Uncle Jack bowed low, and a look of pleasure
came into his black face. He was very sensitive
on the point as to the class of people he was to
serve, and was a keen judge of what he called
“quality folks.” This pleased look was due to
the fact that Eina had stood the test of his keen
intuition.
Clotille, who had secured Uncle Jack to serve
Eina, eyed him closely, and was delighted at the
signals of pleasure that her friend had caused
to appear in the countenance of this veteran
Negro connoisseur of faces.
It was very vital to Clotille's plans that Eina
should please Uncle Jack, for in the schemes that
she had before her she had need of him.


A FACE OF MYSTERY. 17
When Clotille had escorted Eina into the house
and had gone from room to room, showing how
she had fitted it up for Eina's comfort, she then
left her friend and drove back toward Belrose, a
smile of happiness on her lips, the light of joy
in her eyes. -
“Well, sir, it worked like a charm. It worked
like a charm.” Such was the happy reflection that
came and came again to, or, speaking more accu-
rately, that abode in, Clotille's mind.


A PUZZLED LAWYER. 19
meet the man with the mysterious face influenced
her in the matter of her toilet.
From her earliest youth the world had taken
pains to inform Eina over and over again as to
how beautiful she was, but hitherto she had been
rather indifferent to the fact of nature’s rich en-
dowment, and none ever thought to call her vain.
But as she now stood before her mirror taking
an inventory of what might be termed her charms,
there was in her eyes, in this privacy of her dress-
ing room, the plainest sort of hungering for the
-beautiful in herself.
“Has the world judged aright? Am I beau-
tiful?” asked Eina of herself. She lifted her
bared, rounded arms, tapering so exquisitely at
the wrists, and gazed at them for a few seconds,
then lowered them. Eina now turned her atten-
tion to her face, neither oval nor long, perfectly
proportioned, her features—mouth, nose, ears,
forehead—each a work of art in itself. And well
did her wealth of hair, black at a distance, but
brown at close range, grace her head. And well
might her eyes, those wondrously expressive, beau-
tiful black eyes, matching well the long, dark
brown eyelashes and heavy eyebrows—well might
her eyes, the dominating center of a realm of
beauty, gleam with that subtle, inexplicable charm
that made a friend of every one who gazed into
their soulful depths.
Gifted with a rare taste in choosing and blend-
ing those colors which best suited and accentuated


A PUZZLED LAWYER. 21
struck with the amazing beauty of the girl, who
impressed him as being undoubtedly the most
beautiful woman upon whom his eyes had ever
fallen. He was sorely puzzled, too, as to Eina's
nationality, a consideration which, in Belrose, as
in all Southern cities, counted for a great deal.
Eina’s complexion had been the bane of many
an artist's life, portrait painters having despaired
of reproducing its beautiful tints, defying, as
they did, the power of the brush and pen.
She was light enough of complexion to pass
among the whites for a white girl, had just
enough of the dark in her complexion to permit
her to pass as a colored woman if she so elected,
while the underglow of red in her complexion,
coupled with her beautiful black eyes and the ap-
pearance of her hair, suggested that Indian blood
was not altogether missing from her veins.
“Of whatever nationality, it would seem that
the races of mankind have united to make this
girl the composite beauty of the human family,”
reflected Molair.
At length Molair opened the door of his private
office and bade Eina to enter. After a formal in-
troduction, the two settled down to the business
on hand. Seth Molair was noted for his dispatch
in business matters, but it must be confessed that
in this particular instance he did not live up to his
reputation. He did not overly prolong the inter-
view, but simply proceeded with marked delibera-
tion, regarding it as a genuine treat to have the


22 POINTING THE WAY.
privilege to merely contemplate the exquisite
beauty of the face before him.
The question of Eina’s nationality continued to
give Molair concern. There were, to be sure, the
European features and the stamp of European cul-
ture and spirit, but there was that faint, pic-
turesque tinge of the dark that might or might not
be due to a distant connection with the land that
chose to make sable her sons and daughters. Mo-
lair resolved to discover Eina’s racial affiliation
before the interview was over, and began to
manoeuver to attain that end. He had been told
that in every light person having a vestige of
Negro blood in their veins there was a slight mud-
diness behind their ears. Pretending to have
business across the room to the rear of Eina, Mo-
lair managed to get behind her and to glance at
her ears.
“No special mark there,” was his mental note as
he gazed upon Eina’s pretty neck and ears.
Molair had heard that at the roots of the finger
nails there was always to be found a telltale sign
that betrayed the presence of Negro blood when
all other indications failed, but Eina had on gloves,
which prevented a resort to that test. However,
Molair decided to overcome this obstacle.
Excusing himself rather abruptly, he entered
his outer office, closed the door, and had the white
girl who was his stenographer to come to him at
the office window, where he took a look at the
roots of her finger nails and at his own. Having


A PUZZLED LAWYER. 23
familiarized himself with the appearance of the
finger nails of himself and his stenographer, he
re-entered the office to plan for testing Eina.
When the time came for Eina to sign the
papers incident to their business transaction,
Molair had her take a seat at a small table in the
center of the room, the table being just large
enough to hold the papers to be signed, but not
large enough for the inkstand in addition thereto.
Molair stood near her, holding the inkstand in
his hand, and leaned over ostensibly to point out
just where she was to sign. In so doing, in keep-
ing with his plan, he spilled the ink upon Eina’s
glove.
“Clumsy Clumsy Clumsy I beg a thousand
pardons,” said Molair.
Eina looked up, her mind in perfect accord with
Molair’s suggestion that he was clumsy. She
gave him a reassuring Smile, however, to drive
away his embarrassment, and said, “I should have
taken off my gloves to write, anyway, so the fault
is mine, not yours.”
“That is quite generous in you, Miss Rapona,
but I do not pardon myself. Miss Grainger,”
called Molair, to his stenographer, who now en-
tered, “Take that glove off of Miss Rapona's hand,
Step across the Street to the store, and bring us
another pair.”
Miss Grainger approached to draw off the glove
and Molair, at the risk of being thought rude,
stood so as to be able to see the finger nails as the


A PUZZLED LAWYER. 25
“You are from Boston, where social freedom—
the thing that people are trying to say when they
say social equality—exists. In the South social
freedom is not permitted, for reasons that I need
not discuss just here. Whoever affiliates socially
with the one race in the South is denied the social
life of the other. Will you regard it as a piece
of impertinence on my part to ask you as to
where you are to cast your lot socially?”
“You mean to say that there is no such thing
as being allowed to treat all upon the score of
individual merit?” remarked Eina.
“Exactly. Choice, in the South, lies not be-
tween individuals, but between races. Moreover,
if you have once passed as a white person, you
will not be allowed to drop into the colored race.
On the other hand, if you are once classed as a
colored person, you can never change to the white
race where that fact is known,” replied Molair.
“Would you white people of the South accept
me?” asked Eina.
“Pardon me, but what is your blood?” asked
Molair.
“I am of English, Spanish and Indian descent.
Of course you know that the Spaniards drew the
dark in their complexion from the Moors, who
of course are Africans. By both my Spanish
and Indian blood, which, however, is all but lost
in the English strain, I am connected with the
colored races of the world.”
“Now let us see,” said Molair. “We of the


26 POINTING THE WAY.
South place no ban upon intermarriage with the
Spanish people. The glorious history of Spain
has baptized her slight Swarthiness, and we for-
get the Moor. As for the Indians, our President
has advised their absorption into our blood. Ac-
cording to prevailing standards you would find no
barrier to your entrance into the white race.
“On the other hand, there is the tinge of the
dark in your complexion which will permit you
to classify yourself as colored if you so desire.
There are hundreds of people right here in Belrose
even lighter than you are, lighter than thousands
of whites, who are classed as colored.”
“I find myself, therefore, in the unique position
of being allowed to choose for myself my racial
home. For most people that is a thing entirely
beyond their control,” said Eina, Smiling sadly.
“Before you make your choice, Miss Rapona,
would you kindly allow me to canvass the whole
situation with you?” asked Molair, speaking with
evident earnestness.
“I know of nothing that would give me greater
pleasure, Mr. Molair,” said Eina, much pleased
at a prospective arrangement that would give her
a glance into the heart of the South, that willy-
nilly had written itself into her Boston’s daily
thought and nightly dream.
Molair paused awhile, hesitating as to whether
to say what he had in mind, and searching for the
best form in which to put what he would like
to say.


A PUZZLED LAWYER. 27
Noting his embarrassment, Eina said, “Feel
free, Mr. Molair, to speak your mind to me.”
“I could, Miss Rapona, discuss these matters
with you here, but somehow, when the deeper
issues of life are involved, I like to get away from
this office, be free from its atmosphere altogether.
Here, in an honorable way, I hope, I look after my
personal interests by trying to faithfully serve
my clients. Elsewhere I am an unfettered man,
the human being.”
“Why can you not come to my home?” asked
Eina.
“There is the rub. For the present at least
you wish to keep the question of your social
alignment open. It is well known in Belrose
that I make no professional visits. My clients
all come to me. If I call to see you it will be
surmised that I call to see you socially, and if it
became known to the colored people that I so
visit you, you can never thereafter reach their
best social life, perhaps,” said Molair.
“Why cannot I call at your home, then?” asked
Eina.
“If you enter my home as a social visitor to my
mother, you take rank as a white person. If you
Once assume rank as a white person, you can never
in the South drop into the life of the colored
people unless you can show clear title to Negro
blood. We don’t allow it,” said Molair.
“Who stays with you at your home, Miss
Rapona?” asked Molair.


28 POINTING THE WAY.
“One Jack Morris; Uncle Jack they call him,”
replied Eina.
“Uncle Jack! Why, I know Uncle Jack, and a
truer Soul never lived,” said Molair.
“I was about to suggest, Mr. Molair, that Uncle
Jack might bring you to my home unobserved.
I feel that it means so much to be permitted to
hear what you have to say,” said Eina.
“That is about the only way in which all objec-
tions can be met,” said Molair.
So it was agreed that, under the chaperonage
of Uncle Jack, Molair was to clandestinely visit
Eina.
“By the way, is the man with the face of mys-
tery a colored man or a white man? I did not
think to ask Clotille,” mused Eina, as, sitting by
the side of Uncle Jack, she journeyed back to her
home out from Belrose.


30 POINTING THE WAY.
Among their children was Letitia Gilbreath,
who was born to them a few years after the close
of the civil war. Upon the death of Constantine
Gilbreath, his fortune, which was considerable,
was apportioned among the members of his Negro
family. Letitia Gilbreath inherited from her
father a marked commercial talent and love of
gain, which faculty she devoted to the increase
of the holdings bequeathed to her, and as a
result grew to be a fairly wealthy woman, as
wealth went in the Southland.
Miss Letitia declined all offers of matrimony,
grew to be regarded as an eccentric old maid, de-
voted her entire thought to her possessions, and
seemed to shut out from her heart all her fellow-
men and women with two exceptions, as follows:
A daughter of her mother's sister married and
became the mother of a beautiful dark girl whose
pretty face and black appealing eyes had somehow
reached the soft spot in Miss Letitia’s heart. She
applied to her cousin, Mrs. Hannah Strange, for
this beautiful dark child, Clotille, reared and edu-
cated it. She had resolved, should the girl marry
in a manner that pleased her, to make a bridal
present of one-half of her fortune, and to provide
in her will that Clotille should come into posses-
Sion of the other half upon the testator’s death.
Miss Letitia's fancy had likewise gone out for
Baug Peppers, as a boy, and she had resolved
upon him as a husband for Clotille, the fact that
Baug was very light of complexion counting


OBJECTIONS TO A MARRIAGE. 31
greatly in his favor, this in truth being a deter-
mining consideration.
Miss Letitia, herself a mulatto, would have
denied most vehemently that she was at all preju-
diced as to color, and would have cited the fact
that her mother and her favorite adopted cousin
were dark as proofs positive that she could not
have color prejudice.
But Miss Letitia was a great believer in the
white people, and the fact that they seemed to be
growing farther and farther away from the
Negroes made her pessimistic as to the future of
the colored people as a distinct racial element in
American life. She had become a convert to
the theory that the only hope of the American
Negro lay in finally losing himself in the white
race, in being utterly absorbed. She had no sym-
pathy, however, for such Negroes of light com-
plexion as illegally affiliated with the white race
or surreptitiously entered that race, holding that
all persons with the blood of the colored race in
their veins should remain within the ranks of the
Negroes until the race as a whole was whitened.
On the other hand she viewed it in the light
of a shocking crime for two dark persons to marry
each other, holding that every newly born dark
child but prolonged the agony. She felt that
Providence now purposed to overrule the evil of
miscegenation during the days of slavery, and
to thus bring good out of evil by making use of the
light complexion contributed to the race to lighten


32 POINTING THE WAY.
its complexion from generation to generation until
it finally lost its dark hue. She was a believer in
the white man's temperament, traditions, char-
acter and civilization, and did not care to see
these altered by a sudden infusion of Negro blood,
but felt that by the time the Negro race was
ready to vanish through her gradual process of
whitening, that the race would be so fundament-
ally metamorphosed, and the infusion so diluted
that it would in no wise materially affect the
base of the white man's make-up.
Miss Letitia felt that she occupied unassailable
ground, as the white people could not reasonably
object to her making use of the white blood which
they pushed off to her side of the color line. Such
was the basis of her choice of a husband for her
cousin Clotille.
Baug and Clotille knew full well that they did
not and would not love each other, but knowing
Miss Letitia’s hopes and plans, they did not jar
her by raising the issue before it had to be raised,
each desiring to keep the wealthy woman’s favor.
Operating under this modus vivendi, all seemed
to be moving along nicely, neither Clotille nor
Baug desiring to make a move, until one morning,
as Clotille sat in her seat in the assembly room
of Clinton College, noting the boys as they filed in
to take their respective seats, she observed in those
ranks a tall, handsome fellow of princely form,
whose frank, open face, intellectual brow and
head of Splendid shape, demanded of her a second


OBJECTIONS TO A MARRIAGE. 33
look and a third. An acquaintanceship followed
in the due course of events and the exchange of
sentiments in the days that followed ripened their
mutual admiration into love.
One beautiful May day, a day that Clotille never
forgot, in that short distance from the baseball
grounds to the girls’ dormitory, Conroe had
poured into her ear the story of his love, and had
gained from her lips, and from the depths of her
tender, dark eyes the information that he was
loved in return. But here is where the trouble
arose—Conroe was dark.
From the day that Clotille discovered that
her heart had gone out to Conroe, she be-
gan to plan to overcome Miss Letitia’s ob-
jections to him. She saw clearly that her first
step was to get Baug Peppers out of the way.
So long as Baug was available as a possibility for
a husband, Miss Letitia, Clotille knew, would be
for him against the world.
The next step, as Clotille viewed the matter,
was to convert the white people of Belrose to a
more kindly attitude toward the colored people, for
Miss Letitia was in her heart a worshipper of the
whites of Belrose; felt that they were the most
aristocratic people on earth. If, therefore, Bel-
rose could be brought to the point of according
the colored people the full measure of citizenship
rights and privileges, it would, according to Clo-
tille’s way of thinking, operate to make Miss Le-
titia less pessimistic, more hopeful of the colored
3


34 POINTING THE WAY.
man’s future as a colored man, and therefore less
hostile to the marriage of dark couples.
“The elimination of Baug and the providing of
a healthy local atmosphere for the diseased mind
of Cousin Letitia is my problem, then,” reasoned
Clotille.
“Now, I don’t know which is the harder task,
the marrying off of Baug or the causing of Cousin
Letitia to think that the door of hope has at last
come open to the dark man,” said Clotille to her-
Self.
Time passed away, Conroe and Clotille were
graduated from college, the former entering a
medical School, while the latter went to Boston
to perfect herself in music.
In Boston, Clotille met and studied Eina, and
felt convinced that she had at last come upon the
girl that could wrest from Baug the control of his
heart.
Eina, who was an orphan, grew to be fond of
Clotille, and expressed a desire to come to Belrose
to live. This was exactly what Clotille desired,
and shortly after her return home she wrote, tell-
ing Eina to come.
Now that we have seen how Eina came to Bel-
rose, Mr. Molair may proceed to pay his visit.


THE VISIT IS MADE. 39
the plantation, never through sales separated a
family, and from time to time emancipated such
slaves as showed that they had attained unto the
full stature of industrious, civilized, moral beings.
In short, to my ancestors, whatever else it was to
others, slavery was a civilizing school, and to deal
honorably by those helpless people was a family
principle, sacredly transmitted from one genera-
tion to another.”
“Were not your people favorable to the war
of secession, which, whatever its mainspring,
would have resulted in buttressing the institution
of slavery?” asked Eina.
“The institution of slavery was not, of course,
of Southern origin. It was with us an inheritance
from a world-wide custom. We happened to get
a larger dose of it than any other part of the
world, as our home was near the latitude of the
original home of the enslaved race. My family
believed the institution wrong and harmful in
the large, but felt that the South could better
work out the problem of getting rid of the insti-
tution alone rather than in connection with
another section lacking the sympathetic con-
sideration that flows from immediate touch with
a problem,” responded Molair.
“Well, you have stood your examination very
well, Mr. Molair. Right gladly will I hear what
you have to say,” said Eina earnestly.
“Truly, Miss Rapona, there is not a spark of
prejudice behind what I am to say. I confess to


40 POINTING THE WAY.
having strong pride of race but not to prejudice.
Of course prejudice is here, but thus far it has
not inoculated me.”
Eina nodded her acceptance of this assurance.
“Miss Rapona, was there ever in all the world
a more pitiable spectacle than that which the
presence of the colored man in America consti-
tutes to-day? His return to Africa is precluded
by the fact that Africa is projected on a lower
economic and spiritual plane than that to which
the Negro is willing to fall back, nor would the
economic forces of the South quietly submit to a
general exodus even if the Negro desired. So the
Negro is riveted here by the economic conditions
Within and without.
“In the South there is a pronounced feeling
against the absorption of the race into the po-
litical and social fabric, and he is a political
and social Ishmaelite, with his hand against
every one and every one's hand against him by
the very logic of the situation. The door of hope
is closed to him. There are no stars, no moons,
no Suns to light up his dark skies, so far as the
body politic is concerned, and his spirit must
struggle with all the darkness and briers and bogs
of the spiritual jungle without the cheering light
of hope, which, even when unrealized, serves to
make men better. To work, to eat, to sleep, to
die is the utmost programme that organized so-
ciety in the South offers this race.”



THE VISIT IS MADE. 41
Mr. Molair now paused for an instant as if to
allow his words to sink into Eina’s heart.
“But, Mr. Molair, is there no hope?” asked Eina.
“The one thing needed in the South is political
co-operation between the better elements of whites
and the Negroes, but the manner of the coming of
emancipation, enfranchisement and elevation to
high public station seems to have riveted the Negro
into one party, while the terror of being ruled by
an alien and backward race have chained the real
strength of the white race into an opposing party.
You can see at a glance the utter depths of the
sentiments, passions, and interests involved and
what labor it will require to emancipate both
races. I see no forces at work looking to the
blending of the political interests of the white
and colored people, and so my voice at this stage
Of the storm is simply ‘no land in sight.” As long
as there is to be a bitter political war between
the Negroes and the whites of the South, how can
the condition change?”
On and on the discussion ran, Eina asking ques-
tions and Molair seeking with the utmost candor
to enlighten her from his viewpoint. After the
question had been fully canvassed Molair said:
“Now, Miss Rapona, you have the situation be-
fore you. Two worlds call you to-night. Which
will you enter?” -
Molair now stood up and bent his gaze upon the
bowed head of the troubled girl before him. In
an absent-minded sort of way Eina looked up into


42 POINTING THE WAY.
Molair's face, while her thoughts ran out into the
wide, wide world to all that this strong, vigorous
young Scion of the white race typified.
As Eina sat reflecting, thus ran her thoughts:
“Here stands before me power, an offshoot of
that force that bade its flag keep pace with all
the journeyings of the sun. Power and glory,
such as the Anglo-Saxons can give, await me.
Centuries of power call unto me.
“Over against this picture stands a tragic situa-
tion and present day weakness, whatever else the
future may hold. In this tragic situation is my
dear, dear friend. If I enter it, I shall at least
have the consolation to know that I do not per-
sonally deserve whatever of suffering comes to
me. Is it better for the Souls of men to be under
a load that is crushing, or wittingly or unwitting-
ly a part of the crushing load?”
Eina now arose and the two stood silent for a
few moments. Each felt the awful gravity of the
situation.
“Just a personal word, Miss Rapona, before you
decide. Permit me to testify to my respectful
admiration of you, drawn from my two interviews
with you. Perhaps I seem to go too far, but when
nature has the conception that what is to be done
must be done quickly, it works in a hurry. Note
the proverbial precociousness of the child that is
not to dwell on earth very long. I would much
enjoy the cultivation of your acquaintance, and
feel that I would be blessed with your friendship,


THE VISIT IS MADE. 43
simply. Of course, if you choose to cast your lot
with the colored people, you dig between us that
unfathomable Southern gulf which is not on the
maps, but which is far deeper and wider than
those that are,” said Molair.
“On which side of this gulf is the man with
the face of mystery?” was the thought that now
came into Eina’s mind. Was it fate that sug-
gested it?
Lifting her perplexed and all but tearful gaze to
Molair she said: “Give me time to decide.”
“Very well. If you claim your place in the
white race, I hope to see you again. If you choose
to cast your lot with the colored people—farewell
—forever,” said Molair, his voice falling to a sol-
emn whisper.
Eina shuddered. “Good-night,” she said, ling-
ering on the words. With her hand to her cheek,
lost in meditation, Eina stood long on the spot
where Molair left her.


CHAPTER V.
YET DEBATING.
" N, N the night of Seth Molair's visit to Eina,
his mother sat in the library awaiting his
return, as was her custom when he was
out at night.
“You are a little late to-night, Seth,” said Mrs.
Molair, as she received her son’s greeting kiss.
“Yes, mother; I have just left the home of the
most beautiful, the most attractive girl that ever
I Saw.”
Mrs. Molair's heart gave a wild leap of joy.
Over her life there was but the one dark shadow.
Seth was her only child, was unmarried, seemed
to have never thought of matrimony for himself,
and as a consequence of his course had raised the
fear in her mind that their branch of the historic
Molair family was near its end—a thought that
was far from pleasing to her. More than any-
thing else in the wide world, this threatened ex-
tinction of the Molair name gave her deep con-
cern. Imagine, therefore, the rapture of her
mother heart when she heard the cool, impassive
Molair grow enthusiastic Over the charms of a
yOung WOman.
“Describe her to me, Seth,” said Mrs. Molair,
laying aside a book which she had been reading,
and looking approvingly at the idol of her heart.


YET DEBATING. 45
“You would really have to see her to get a prop-
er idea of her beauty, mother. As rich as is the
English language, it really has no words that fit-
tingly portray the charms of that girl.”
Mrs. Molair felt like kissing Seth rapturously,
so happy was she to find him, as she thought, thus
enamored of one of the gentler sex.
“Where on earth has she been, Seth, that I have
never Seen her?”
“Oh, she has just arrived.”
“Do your best at describing her,” requested Mrs.
Molair with enthusiasm.
Molair now attempted a description of Eina,
and the picture that he drew served to stimulate
Mrs. Molair's interest in the girl.
“Oh, may it be that kind heaven has at last
sent me a wife for my son,” was the inward
prayer of Mrs. Molair. -
“But, mother,” said Molair, a look of deep se-
riousness on his manly face; “there is danger that
she will cast her lot with, and pass as one of, the
colored people.”
“The stars above!” exclaimed Mrs. Molair,
holding up her hands in an attitude of horror and
repugnance.
“Really white?” she asked.
“Her complexion is lighter than that of many
whites whom we call our friends, and she can
pass the finger nail test all right,” replied Molair.
“Where does She come from ?”
“BOStOn.”


46 POINTING THE WAY.
“That Boston | Seth we must save this girl.
We must not allow a calamity like that to befall
her.”
“I have been to see her and sought to dissuade
her. I have not thus far succeeded, however,”
said Molair.
“I’ll see her,” said Mrs. Molair, “and when I
have finished talking to her she will be in her
right mind.”
It was agreed upon by Seth and his mother
that she was to go to see Eina early the follow-
ing morning.
Mrs. Molair now retired to bed, but did not fall
asleep, her mind having been thrown into such a
feverish state by the news which Seth had
brought. The disappearance of many of the
great names of the Southland was traceable to
alliances with attractive colored girls, which al-
liances were of course denied the sanction of law,
thus throwing the progeny of great families be-
yond the pale of law. Thus far the Molair family
had made its escape, and while Mrs. Molair had
the utmost confidence in Seth’s character, she
could not be indifferent to the fate that had over-
taken other family names, that of the Gilbreath’s
for example.
“If this girl- can pass the test and can enter
freely into the white race she might become my
boy's wife, for evidently she has deeply impressed
him. If she abide in the colored race and a gen-


YET DEBATING. 47
uine attachment ripens between her and my only
boy child!—” Such were the thoughts that coursed
through Mrs. Molair's mind, rendering her night
a sleepless one.
On the following morning Mrs. Molair was up
with the sun, and was soon speeding rapidly to
Eina's home. She rang the door bell and Uncle
Jack responded.
When he saw that it was Mrs. Molair, Uncle
Jack called into Service one of his most Chester-
fieldian bows, then escorted her with much re-
spectful dignity into Eina's parlor, where she
took a seat to await Eina's coming. As she noted
the beauty and taste of the appointments of Eina’s
home, her heart warmed to the girl.
“Only a sweet, pure soul could produce an effect
like this,” said Mrs. Molair to herself.
When Eina appeared at the parlor door and Mrs.
Molair caught sight of her beautiful face, flash-
ing out in no uncertain way the nobility and lofti-
ness of her soul, Mrs. Molair heaved a sigh of re-
lief.
“If all else fails, thank heaven, here is no Mor-
ganitic pitfall for Seth, unless mother nature who
chiseled that girl’s brow is a miserable liar,”
thought Mrs. Molair, as in her joy over the type
she judged Eina to be she rushed to and kissed
her.
Eina could not, of course, understand the
warmth of the greeting, but felt honored, for, no


48 POINTING THE WAY.
less than in her own case the worth of Mrs. Molair
was written in her countenance and bearing.
When seated Mrs. Molair began: “Miss Rapona,
I am Mrs. Molair, the mother of Seth. I have
come to take up the question of your social align-
ment.”
“I am much pleased to meet you. Your son is
a noble man at heart and in life, I feel. I am so
glad that I met him. Since I see his mother, I
understand the source of his qualities,” said Eina.
“Seth's father, child, was the finest man that
ever lived,” said Mrs. Molair, her love for her de-
ceased husband not allowing even Seth to be
classed above him.
But her mother love now asserted itself, and she
said: “And so is Seth.”
“So we have two men, each being the fin-
est that ever lived,” said Eina laughingly, in
thorough sympathy with Mrs. Molair's praise of
her husband and son. In the background of her
mind, however, there was a third candidate for
this honor of being the finest; but his case has not
yet been heard—the man with the face of mys-
tery.
“Child, my son tells me that it is possible that
you may ally yourself with the colored people.
Have you ever associated with them before?”
asked Mrs. Molair.
“My association has all along been with the
whites, save in the case of one girl friend at whose
instance I am here in the South,” said Eina.


YET DEBATING. 49
“There is a faint suggestion of the dark in your
complexion, no more, however, than what numer-
ous of our best white people have. How does that
come?” asked Mrs. Molair.
“I am of Spanish, Indian and Caucasian de-
Scent.”
“Have you any Negro blood?”
“The Spaniards got their tinge of the dark
through the Moors, they say, and the Moors are
Africans,” replied Eina.
“My child, you can pass for white. We do not
bar those races socially that have given marked
evidence of governmental efficiency. We don’t
draw the line on Spaniards or a brave, fighting
people like the Indians. We don’t object to that
blood. Did not Seth tell you about the handicaps
affecting the colored race?” asked Mrs. Molair.
“He did.”
“Now let me tell you some things that Seth
could not tell you. By the way, where is your
mother?” asked Mrs. Molair.
“Passed away. Died when I was an infant.”
“Father?”
“Gone, too. Lived to see me fifteen years of
age, then left me.”
“Poor, dear child. Do you think I am going to
allow you to choose life in the Southern under-
world without doing my best to prevent it?” said
Mrs. Molair, now more determined than ever to
keep Eina within the white race.
4


52 POINTING THE WAY.
“Well, one of the saddest cases that ever came
to my ears was that of a colored lad in a neighbor-
ing county. A white man uttered forbidden
words to this boy’s sister. The girl fled to her
home and told her brother of what had been said
to her. Borrowing from our Southern code on
such matters, this boy went to the home of the
white man, drew a pistol, spoke his mind very
freely, but did not kill.
“The next morning the white man armed him-
self, went to this boy’s place of work, called him
out and shot him down. That is what happened
where a colored girl told and her brother took
the matter in hand. If that girl has another
brother that is concerned in her protection, do you
think she will be so ready to sentence him to death
by reporting insults?”
Drawing near to Eina, Mrs. Molair threw an
arm around her neck and talked to her long and
earnestly, laying bare experiences that had been
reported to her by the colored women of Belrose.
At length she said: “Now, my daughter, I exhort
you to come into a race where men are encour-
aged to play the part of men. Will you not come?”
Again there came into Eina’s mind the face of
the man of mystery.
“Mrs. Molair, I shall give earnest thought to
all that you have said. When the debate within
my soul is over, I will render my decision.”
Mrs. Molair now arose and took a hurried leave.
To her mind there was no possible ground of de-


CHAPTER VI.
SHE INVESTIGATES.
T: HIS is awful! This is simply awful!”
# Thus murmured Clotille Strange as she
stood upon Eina’s porch stung, dazed, ir-
resolute as the result of the reading of a little
note from Eina which Uncle Jack had handed
her at the door, instead of granting her admission
to see her friend.
The sympathetic Uncle Jack had surmised that
all was not going well, and his funereal counten-
ance as he met Clotille had been in keeping with
the sombre news contained in the note, although
of course he knew nothing of its contents. He
now stood pitying in his heart the perturbed Clo-
tille and resolved to be of assistance to her if
he could. As Eina was in the house within hear-
ing distance Uncle Jack could not say what he
desired, so he resorted to a ruse to get an oppor-
tunity to whisper to Clotille.
“W'y Miss Clotille, look at yer harniss. Who
hitched up fur yer?” said Uncle Jack loudly, mov-
ing off towards Clotille's buggy and beckoning
for her to follow. Going to the far side of the
horse and having Clotille do the same so that
Eina, if peering through the window blinds, might
not see what was going on, Uncle Jack tinkered
with the harness while Clotille read to him the
little note from Eina, which ran as follows:


SHE INVESTIGATES. 55
“My Own Dear Clotille.
“You know how dearly I love you and how I
crave your companionship. You will understand,
therefore, that there is tremendous pressure on
me from some source to prompt me to deny my-
self the boon of your companionship for some
days—just how many I cannot say. When we
meet I will explain all. For the time being I
must have solitude, must travel to the very heart
of things and let my darkened soul catch for it-
self the light of life. The world confuses me,
but I know that there is peace somewhere. What-
ever else betides, I am Clotille’s one friend,
“EINA 99
“I understan’s it all now. Dem Molairs hez
been wukin’ on her. Mistah Molair wuz heah
las’ night an’ Missus Molair wuz heah dis mornin’.
She’s fine blood an’ dey wants her in dare race
I 'specks. Deys 'bout got her min’ sorter mixed
up an’ she 'bout doan’ know whether ter be er
white lady er er colored 'oman, es dey puts it.
'Twouldent s’prise me if dis heah same lady ain’t
some queen er nuther passin’ roun’ under some
'sumed name,” said Uncle Jack, nodding his head
knowingly.
“Oh, is that it, you think?” said Clotille, begin-
ning to grasp the meaning of the note which
had been handed her.
“But I’ll watch dem Molairs. Trus’ dat ter me.
I’s goin’ ter slip Baug Peppers out heah an ef
he gits er chance he’ll switch things back.”


56 POINTING THE WAY.
Clotille felt like hugging and kissing Uncle Jack.
In fact, to tell the truth on the sad, yet happy,
girl, she did that very thing. At the very mo-
ment when she felt her structure crumbling in
a most unexpected manner, here was dear old
Uncle Jack to prop it up.
Nothing could be more damaging to Clotille's
hopes than for Eina to cross over into the white
race, for then she would be far removed from
the possibility of marrying Baug and taking him
out of her way.
Assured by Uncle Jack that he would watch over
Eina and seek to thwart the purposes of all who
sought to have her turn her back on the colored
world, Clotille rode home with a somewhat lighter
heart than that which had throbbed in her body
immediately after reading Eina’s note.
Eina was puzzled. She soon made the dis-
covery that Baug Peppers affiliated with the col-
ored people socially and her great desire to un-
ravel the mystery of his face threw itself on
the side of her entering the colored race.
“But does this man do himself justice to re-
main classified as a Negro? He could go else-
where and pass for white easily. Would I not
be doing right to become acquainted with him
and persuade him for his own good to go to some
other part of the world and pass as a white man?”
asked Eina of herself.
Eina now decided to go deeply into this ques-
tion of race, and for the time being to withhold
*
A-
i


SHE INVESTIGATES. 57
herself from Social affiliation with either race.
She came to the conclusion that through the un-
tutored Uncle Jack, a child of nature, she would
seek to get at the real essence, the ground work
of the Negro soul, its basal philosophy of life.
She decided, therefore, to encourage Uncle Jack
to talk, to enter with zest into his chatter and
to have him thus in artless fashion lay bare his
soul.
In keeping with this purpose, one afternoon
when Uncle Jack’s work was done and he was
sitting in a chair in the back yard, under the
shade of a tree, with his legs crossed and a pipe
in his mouth, Eina drew near, dragging a chair
with her. She took a seat in front of Uncle Jack
with a view to having him entertain her, while
she studied him and through him his kind.
“Uncle Jack, one thing has always somewhat
puzzled me. When the Civil War was going on,
why did you colored people stay in the fields and
feed the armies that were fighting to keep you
in slavery?” asked Eina.
“Wal, Miss, I kaint speak fur de res’ uv de
cullud folks. I kin sorter 'splain ter yer 'bout
myself. I 'membah wal whut er fix I wuz in
w’en de war broke out. Suah, dar wuz er mighty
wrestlin’ in my heart. Yer see I allus 'preciated
good treatment. Er dog 'ull do dat. Wal, my
Ole massa an ole missus Sartainly treated me
wal, treated me wal. Miss, I didun’t hab none
uV de hard times I heah udder cullud folks talkin’


58 POINTING THE WAY.
er bout. But bless yer life, honey, some uv 'um
had 'um an' had 'um bad, too. Yer see, I b'longed
ter quality white folks, shuah 'nough ladies an’
gemmens, an’ dey’s allus nice! See?” Uncle Jack
arose, lowered his head respectfully to one side
and said with humility, “Miss Eina, I ain’t as
ellerquent wid dis pipe ez I would be ef I had er
chaw uv terbacky. Ef yer please, I’ll go git me
er chaw.”
Eina excused him to prepare for a more elo-
quent delivery. Duly equipped Uncle Jack re-
turned and resumed his story.
“I wuz 'splainin' 'bout whut er fix I wuz in
w’en de war broke out. Ef evah I felt like cryin’
w’en I didun’t, it wuz w’en I wuz holdin’ massa’s
sturrup ez he wuz mountin’ his war hoss ter ride
ter de army.”
“Cry for what, Uncle Jack?” asked Eina.
“Three things in one. Fust, 'cause he wuz goin’.
Secon', 'cause his goin’ kep’ me frum goin’ ter
fight ergin him. Third, 'cause my missus an her
two dorters wuz So Sad lak.”
“How do you reconcile those sentiments, Uncle
Jack, and how did his going affect your going?
It would seem that his going would have made
your going the easier.”
“Yer doan understan’ cullud folks, miss. Our
hearts tek in de good frum ev’ry Sose. My massa
had been kin’ ter me, so I hated ter see him leave.
I wanted ter be er free man an’ ter he'p dem dat
wuz tryin’ ter free me. Wid him leavin’ I couldn’t


SHE INVESTIGATES. 59
go, caus' harm might er come ter my missus an’
her two dorters. Ef I could 'uv got er way fust, ez
I wuz tryin’ ter do, de ’sponserbility uv de fambly
would er been on him, but ez he beat me ter it
de 'sponserbility wuz on me, an I had ter stay.”
“But, Uncle Jack, somehow I thought that you
were a soldier. How do you account for your mil-
itary carriage?”
“Hah, hah,” laughed Uncle Jack, his dark face
beaming with pride. “No, miss, yer is er leetul
wrong dare. I ain’t got no miluntary kerridge
an' ain’t had none. I seen ole Genul Grant ridin’
in one wunst, but I nevah got so high ez ter
hab er kerridge. I ain’t nebbar had er miluntary
kerridge.”
Eina Smiled at Uncle Jack’s misapprehension
of her remark but did not enlighten him as to her
true meaning.
Uncle Jack sat for a few seconds musing upon
the exaggerated reports of his generalship that.
had evidently gone North, to be picked up by
Miss Eina.
“Goin’ back ter whar I lef’ off,” Uncle Jack
resumed, “ole massa rode erway. I stayed behin’
an’ looked atter der wimmins wid er eagle eye.
Ole missus b'lieved in Jack, b'lieved in him wid
all her soul. I slep’ at her do w’en eber de
Yankees wuz er round. Yes, dey b'lieved in Jack.
An’ fore God, I’d er died lak a cur dog fo'e I’d er
let any scoundrel tech er stran’ uv hair on enny uv
'um’s head.”


60 POINTING THE WAY.
Uncle Jack now paused and dropped his head.
Tears came streaming down the old man’s cheeks.
“What is the matter?” inquired Eina, anxiously.
In broken tones he said: “I did wanter so bad
ter han’ ole missus an her chillun back ter Ole
massa jes’ as he lef’’um wid me, but wuk an’ pray,
pray an’ wuk ez hard ez I could, dey jes’ wouldn’t
stay in de worl’ till ole massa got back. Dey took
sick one by one an’ died. Oh, ef I didn’t pray an’
groan for de Lawd ter spar’’um, no botty evah did.
I wanted 'um ter live ter see Ole massa ergin So
dey could tell him how good an’ kin’ Jack wuz.
But dey died; dey died.”
Uncle Jack's chin fell over on his breast and
the tears rolled down his black face with as much
fluency as though those mourned were of his
Own family and their corpses were even then
in the next room.


CHAPTER VII.
THE PARSON FLEES.
over what Uncle Jack had said.
“It would seem to me that a people with
the kind of heart indicated by this old man cannot
at base be bad,” mused Eina. “I doubt whether
anywhere in the world its kindliness of spirit can
be duplicated,” she reflected.
She determined after Supper to probe deeper
into Uncle Jack’s heart.
In due time Uncle Jack Summoned Eina to her
Supper, which was so well prepared that it stimu-
lated her rather feeble appetite. As Uncle Jack
stood by and observed that his cooking pleased
Eina, a smile of deep satisfaction came upon his
Sober face.
“Uncle Jack, you were once a slave, but you
seem to be as serene as an angel now. How did
you manage to get along? Your nature does not
Seem to have been at all soured.”
Uncle Jack dropped into a chair in the corner
of the dining-room and said:
“Dare wuz er little sumpin’ dat I perscivered
w’en I wuz er kid dat he'ped me outen many er
tight place,” began Uncle Jack. “I allus did have
er way uv notussing things an’ puttin' one an’
one togedder. Ez er boy, I notussed dat dare


62 POINTING THE WAY.
warn’t nevah no harm in er white man ef you
could jes' git him ter laf right good an hard. Ef
yer will let me, I will gib yer er sample uv how
I could allus make my git by.
“Wal, w'en I wuz er youngster I wuz de house
boy an’ allus had ter wait on de tabul.
“One Sunday de Ole missus an her two dorters
went visitin’ an’ lef’ only de ole man at home.
Wal, we had duck fur dinner dat day. I knowed
ole massa wouldn’t eat but one leg, so I pitched
in an’ cut one leg off, jes’ ez smooth an’ nice, an’
et it up 'fore dinner.
“Yer see, I allus carved de duck, an’ ez dare wuz
only one leg ter be called fur, dare would be no
missin’ uv de udder leg. Massa nevah et more dan
one duck leg at er meal.
“Wal, all wuz goin' 'long nice untel er few
minutes 'fore dinner. Here comes erlong ole
Majah Dinkins an his boy ter visit us. Wal, Sah,
I could 'uve choked dat kid fur comin’ tell he wuz
blue, fur he had et wid us erfore an’ he allus called
fur er duck leg, w'en we had duck. W'en I saw
dat boy I begin ter trimble in my boots, fur I
knowed Iwuz Shuah goin’ ter hab trouble.
“At las' ev’ry botty wuz 'roun de tabul, an’ de
duck wuz bein’ passed 'round. One leg had been
handed out terole man Dinkins, an’ w’en de boy
Wuz retched he wuz axt whut he wanted. ‘A leg,
please, Squealed de leetul villun in er pipin’ voice.
Shuah, miss, I tell yer I could 'uve choked dat
chap almos’ ter def.


66 POINTING THE WAY.
'nough jam fur er pore innersint cullud boy. I
hated ter do whut I am goin’ ter tell yer erbout,
but I had ter.
“It wuz er warm day an ole missus had de
preacher ter set out in de yard under er big oak.
I watched my pints kinder close. Missus wanted
er chance ter talk wid massa by hisself so she
mout tell him dat dis preacher wuz ergin slav’ry
an” he could erford ter treat him er leetul bettah
dan wuz common ter him. She foun’ ole massa
an’ took him way out in de back yard ter de
grin stone ter grin de carvin’ knife.
“While massa wuz grin'in’ erway, missus tole
him 'bout bringin’ de preacher, an’ massa fairly
cussed. I knowed massa an’ knowed jes' 'bout
how long he'd stay hot w'en missus wuz talkin'
ter him, so I 'sided ter ack at wunst. I runs
out ter de preacher an’ says, “Mistah, kaint yer
help er pore fambly out? Come quick.” I led him
ter de corner uv de house an’ Said, “Peep er 'round
an’ see massa 'bout ter kill missus, an’ w'en he
hez done done dat he is goin’ ter come an’ kill yer.
Won’t yer please go an’ stop massa?”
“Jes’ den massa was at his hottis' an’ wuz layin'
off his han’s kinder wile lak.
“‘Whut he wanter kill me fur?” de tremblin’
preacher axt.
“‘He doan’ lak preachers an’ you done come
home wid his wife,” I says.
“Wal, sah, dat pore man turnt all sorts er colors.
He wheeled er roun’ an’ shot er cross dat


THE PARSON FLEES. 67
field laker streak uv greased lightnin’ wid me
right atter him hollerin’ fur life an’ death. Hear-
in’ me hollerin’ an’ seein’ de race, massa broke
out ter try ter ketch us ter fin’ Out de trouble.
De preacher looked er roun’ an’ saw massa run-
nin’ an’ de knife gleamin’ in de air. He twisted
outen dat long tail coat, recht up an’ grabbed his
hat an’ by gimminy, ef dat eldah didun’t run ain’t
nobody evah run since de worl’ comminced. De
scriptur’ sez “Run de race wid patience, but dat
eldah busted dat scriptur’ wide open, fur dare
shuah wuzun't no patience in de way he run.
“Yer may not b'lieve it, but w’en dat man
come ter our ten rail fence he leapt it 'thout put-
tin his hand 'ter it, an’ had er clear foot ter spare.
Talk erbout er man bein’ called an 'spired ter
preach, dat man wuz called an 'spired ter run
dat day shuah ez yer is bawn ter die.
“Wal, sah, I wuz so tickled dat I fell down
flat an’ had ter stuff my mouf full uv nasty weeds
ter keep frum lafin'. Massa come up wid me an’
axt me whut in de wuz de mattah wid
me. De tears wuz comin’ outen my eyes. Dey
wuz tears uv lafin', but massa thort dey wuz tears
uv. Sorry. I tole rhassa er lie. I tole him dat de
preacher wuz so hungry dat he wuz feert dat he
wouldn’t git ernough eatin’ wid de ballunce an’ dat
he took an’ Stole de fattis’ chicken an’ run off
wid it. Den massa wuz mad Shuah 'nough an he
tole missus ter nevah bring er nuther preacher ter
his house.


CHAPTER VIII.
UNCLE JACK'S CONVERSION.
WWJ HEN Uncle Jack was through with his
£ 3, ...) narrative he began to clear away the dishes,
* Eina remaining to keep him company the
while. When this task was over, Uncle Jack said:
“Miss Eina, ef yer doan’ keer I'll sing er hime an’
hab er prarr wid yer fo' we goes ter our restin’
places.” w
Eina assented and the two now bowed while
Uncle Jack prayed. In his prayer there was
manifest the simple faith of a child, a belief
in the miraculous power of God and his readi-
ness to resort to the miraculous. To Uncle
Jack heaven was a reality, just over the way,
and as he talked of it Eina could catch the
gleam of the gold on the streets, hear the angel
shouts and taste of the nectar flowing from the
throne of God.
Uncle Jack's plea for protection through the
night and for light to souls that were gropin'
in de dark was freighted with all the eloquence
of a plea born of a whole heart, and when he arose
the tears were streaming down Eina’s cheeks.
Uncle Jack very solemnly bade her good night,
evidently not desiring to say or do anything that
would disturb the solemn frame of mind in which
he now found himself and Eina.


70 POINTING THE WAY.
“De Sperrit is on me an I mus’ let it stay long
ez it will,” was Uncle Jack's thought.
The next morning at breakfast Eina said, “Un-
cle Jack, tell me how you professed religion, won’t
you?”
“Yer axes me 'bout my gittin' 'ligion, an I is
shuah goin’ ter tell yer,” responded Uncle Jack.
“Yer see, Miss Eina, in slav’ry times de cullud
folks had ter set up in de galluries at de white
churches, an’ frum dat fack an’ frum bein’ slaves
dey kinder thort dat God had er kinder secon’
han’ intruss in dare gittin' 'ligion. Dey felt kind
uv humble lak’ an’ thort it took er whole lot ter
git God ter look at ’um. De freeness uv salva-
tion wuzun't talked erbout much. De hardniss
uv gittin’ ter God wuz de nachel thort uv er
pore slave. Dare is er heap in whut er man jes’
nachally thinks, jes’ nachally thinks.
“Wal, gittin' 'ligion got ter be er hard thing
'mongst de slaves, an’ it wuz kep’ up atter free-
dom. Dare wuz er mourners’ bench fixed fur
yer, an’yer had ter go ter dat, night atter night.
Yer had ter be chased by de debbul, had ter pay er
visit ter hell, had ter be shuck ovah hell holdin’
ter er spider web, an’ had ter pray in er grabe
yard. Now, it wuz jes’ on dat las’ pint whar I got
my fall down. I jes' couldent come through at de
mourners’ bench an’ wuz tole ter go ter de
grabe yard atter night.
“In dem days I had er fine dog name
Wolf. He was called dat 'cause he looked jes’


UNCLE JACK'S CONVERSION. 71
’zackly lak er wolf. One night erbout dark
I started out towards de grabe yard ter pray,
an’, 'thout my knowin’ it, dat dog followed
me. I felt all right till I comminced ter git 'mong
dem trees. All dat stillness seemed ter settle
right down on me, an’ I could heah myself breath-
in’, an’ feel myself gittin’ er leetul hot. But I
sez ter myself, ‘I’se goin’ ter stick it out, an’ run
jes’ w’en I kaint he'p it.”
“I started ter kneel down an er big ole rabbit
jumped up right berhin’ me, an, 'fore de Lawd it
lak ter skeert der life outen me. W’en I foun’
out whut it wuz I furgot whut I come out fur an’
cussed lak a sailor. Yes, miss, I is sorry ter Say
it, but I cussed.
“Wal, dat grieved me ter my heart. Den I
'termined dat I Wuz Shuah boun’ fur hell ef I
didun’t do sumpin'. So I gits down on my knees
an’ Shets bofe my eyes right tight. But ter save
my life I couldn’t think 'bout God fur won-
derin’ whut mought be movin' 'round in de grabe
yard nigh unter me. Now, heahs how I come ter
allus b'lieve dat a man should be one thing or
tuther. I tried ter d’vide up twix God an’ my-
self. While bofe eyes wuz still shet I 'grees wid
myself right quick ter compermise wid my
skeert feelin’s an’ keep one eye shet fur God’s
sake an one eye open fur Jack’s sake. I opened
one eye an’ lo! dare wuz standin’ right en front
uv me whut looked laker great big wolf. It wuz


72 POINTING THE WAY.
my dog ter be shuah, but ez I looked at dat ani-
mule I forgot dat I evah had er dog in de worl’.
“Talk erbout er man’s bein’ skeert, dat' ain’t
no name fur whut I wuz. I thort dat wolf wuz
de very debbul hisself come atter me for sinnin'
an’ cussin’. Holler? W’y, ’oman, dem dead folks
ain’t goin’t ter heah no more sich hollerin’ ez I
done till Gabrill hisself makes de noise. An’ ter
tell de trufe he’ll hatter blow dat trumpit mighty
loud ter git by whut I done wid my nachal mouf.
An' de way I hollered skeert me ergin. I sorter
feert dat any sleepin’ ghost jes' mus’ er heered
me. An ef evah yer saw er man run, dis heah
cullud man whut yer see heah Shuah did run.
“Atter I had got er good ways er long I kinder
looked back an’ dare Wuz dat debbul right berhin'
me. Wal, sah, frum dat time on it wuz runnin'
an’ hollerin’ an’ hollerin’ an’ runnin’.
“I broke right straight fur de church whar de
people wuz all getherin’. Dey heered me comin',
an’, ’owan, de noise de folks did make shoutin’
fur joy wuz er sight! Yer see dey thort I’d dun
come through. Some uv de sisterin’ in dey joy
tried ter meet and ketch me, but I kep’ comin’ tell
I got plum in dat church an’ fell on de floor.
W’en I come ter myself dey wuz all eroun’ me
clappin’ han’s and shoutin’ fur joy.
“Now, I knowed dat dey would be 'spectin’
me ter do sumpin’ w’en I got up. So I jes’ said
’taint no harm ter say, ‘Glory ter God!” So I
hopped up clappin’ han’s, sayin’, ‘Glory to God!


UNCLE JACK'S CONVERSION. 73
Glory ter God! Wal, dey all tuk it dat I wuz
converted. -
“I let it stan’ dat way ter keep frum skander-
lizin’ de meetin', but I went off ter talk ter er
white preacher, an’ from him I got de white folks
quiut kind uv 'ligion. But de cullud folks thort I
got it dat night. Ef bein’ skeert uv whut I thort
wuz de debbul is gittin' 'ligion, den I more'n got it
dat night, I tell yer. But ef turnin’ yerself loose
bodaciously an’ Sperritually ovah ter de great
God uv heben an’ losin’ whut yer want ter do
in whut he wants done, den I mus’ say dat my
'ligion 'rived ter me later on w’en I made er pint
blank s’render in my heart.”


CHAPTER IX.
THE MAN APPEARS.
|NCLE Jack was by no means a fool, and soon
divined that Eina had some deep purpose
" in having him talk. His thorough knowl-
edge of conditions in the South, the visits of Seth
Molair and his mother, Eina’s letter to Clotille,
together with that Sad, anxious look which Eina
was wearing on her face fully assured Uncle
Jack as to the great battle that was being fought
out in Eina’s mind.
True to his promise to Clotille, Uncle Jack
planned to introduce the man with the face of
mystery, Baug Peppers, as a factor in the con-
test. -
“Miss Eina, I got er leetul favor I wants ter
ax uv yer, please, miss,” said Uncle Jack to Eina.
“Say on, Uncle Jack. It will have to be a very
large favor for me to thing of refusing you.”
“Thankee, miss, thankee. In Belrose dare is
er fine frien’ uV mine whut I wants ter come
out an’ see whar I am Wukin’. I wants him ter
take supper wid me dis evenin', an I wants ter
know ef yer will let me eat him in de dinin’ room
atter yer is done wid yer supper?”
“Are you a cannibal, Uncle Jack?” asked Eina,
laughingly.
“Whut is er kannerbull, miss, please, miss?


THE MAN APPEARS. 75
“A man who eats men. You say you want to
eat your friend in the dining-room.”
“Hah, hah, hah,” laughed Uncle Jack heartily.
“Dat is shuah er good one on me. Wal, my frien’
is good 'nough ter eat.”
“Uncle Jack, I shall grant your request on one
condition, and that is that you allow me to be
the waitress for the occasion.”
“Why, laws a mussy, miss! Why, no, miss.
Me ter hab yer ter wait on me! Nevah, while
my name is Jackson Simpkins Hezekiah Morris,
will I'gree ter dat plan.”
“All right, then, Uncle Jack,” said Eina, seem-
ing to yield.
That evening when Uncle Jack and Baug had
sat down to eat supper, Eina appeared at the
door having on the cap and apron of a waitress.
Uncle Jack held up his hands in horror, but
Baug, who had caught sight of the beautiful Eina,
said, “Uncle Jack, please be civilized.”
Eina looked so very pretty in her waitress’ at-
tire that Baug seemed to feel dimly that she was
Some sort of an angel whom Uncle Jack might
drive away. Baug's admonition and a look of re-
buke in Eina's eye quieted Uncle Jack.
Baug was not as a rule a hearty eater, but on
this occasion he caused the food to disappear
from the plates time and time again in order
that he might have the waitress reappear the
oftener. After Baug had eaten about all that
he could possibly eat, desiring to get one more


76 POINTING THE WAY.
look at the waitress, he slipped the biscuits out
of the plate into his pocket and called for more.
“My, Uncle Jack, this is good cooking. Is
there any way, Uncle Jack, I can get out to see
you a little oftener? I always thought a great
deal of you, Uncle Jack, as you know. Now that
you are getting old you need companionship,” said
Baug very solicitously, at the close of the meal.
Uncle Jack chuckled inwardly. He knew that
it was the comely waitress and not the aged Uncle
Jack that Baug felt needed companionship. But
he appeared not to know at what Baug was aim-
ing.
“Dis place is kinder fur out an I mout move
in closer whar you could see me of'ner, Baug,”
said Uncle Jack, innocently enough.
“Now, Uncle Jack, I wouldn’t think of leaving
a nice place like this. No, no. Stay here, Uncle
Jack,” said Baug, realizing that if Uncle Jack left
that place there might not be an excuse for his
calling at the house where this waitress was.
“All right, Baug, I’ll stay. I won’t go. I lak
ter take yer advice.” Then Uncle Jack added
as if incidentally, “De girl dat waited on us won’t
be our waitress ennymore,” consoling himself with
the thought that he was at least technically tell-
ing the truth, as Eina was not of course the
family waitress.
This information seemed to throw a chill over
Baug's bouyant spirits, and he grew silent for a


CHAPTER X.
CONROE DRISCOLL.
£ UMMER has gone and the green of the
\ trees has given way to the somber brown
* of the autumn. The students of the Various
institutions of learning located in Belrose for the
education of colored youths (there are several
such) have arrived and settled down to work.
In fact, Thanksgiving Day is here, and there
is a great stir in Negro social circles anent the
great annual football contest between the two
leading institutions of learning. Society among
the whites is also all agog over a game to be
played between the leading university team of the
South and the team of one of the North’s great
schools. So the city is alive with tooting horns
and college yells and flying ribbons, and gay
equippages, carriages and buggies, tandems and
tallyhos, bearing happy girls and pleasant-looking
matrons all wearing their best. Baug Peppers is
on hand with an open barouche escorting Eina,
looking her very loveliest.
At one point in the city a congestion of vehicles
occurred, and Baug's carriage had to halt. It
stopped just behind one occupied by Seth Molair
and a lady who was the acknowledged beauty of
the city among the whites.


80 POINTING THE WAY.
Seth Molair, happening to look around, saw
Eina, whereupon he politely lifted his hat and
bowed. Eina returned the bow with a smile.
The dense crowd of white and colored people
at this point, having its eyes focussed upon the
two carriages because of the beauty of the occu-
pants, saw the incident, and it created a mild sen-
sation, it not being customary for white men to
practice the amenities toward colored women.
All eyes now turned towards Eina, known to
the crowd as a colored girl, because Baug was her
escort. There she sat, the very essence of the
beautiful, her black eyes sparkling and her rich
complexion tinged with a peach's red. So inno-
cent, so open, so noble was her appearance that
every suggestion of the sinister that arose be-
cause a white man had spoken to her died on the
threshold of the mind tentatively entertaining it.
As Baug Peppers drove through Belrose that
day his eye wandered from face to face, and, of
course, frequently back to Eina, and though Bel-
rose had turned out its loveliest creatures, he
found none to compare with her.
When they entered the football grounds they
found a great throng there, and when the carriage
halted Eina stood up to gaze about her. Grace
characterized the demeanor of the women, their
attire being all that the most fastidious taste could
exact, while the men, too, presented a splendid
appearance. There was everywhere an air of
culture. |


CONROE DRISCOLL. 81
“Oh, who can doubt the future of this people,
who can be ashamed to be numbered with them
when they gaze upon a scene like this?” murmured
Eina.
Baug now stood up by Eina's side, and the two
presented so fine an appearance that when a
squad of marchers passed that way one of the
group shouted, “Three cheers for Peppers and
the queen that is with him,” and the cheers were
given with a hearty good will.
Eina noted the abundant good humor and the
enthusiasm that characterized the throng, and
turning to Baug, she said: “A people so consti-
tuted that they have a well of happiness within
themselves, to which they can repair when the
outer world goes dry, will live long on the earth.”
“Well spoken,” Baug replied.
Amid the cheers of their respective partisans
the two football teams trotted out on the field and
lined up for the struggle. Each of the teams was
composed very largely of men who were spending
their last year in school, and it was realized that
the struggle was to be one of the most desperate
ever played in the history of the two schools.
Moving about among the players was the stal-
wart form of Conroe Driscoll. Of late Conroe
had been urging Clotille to set a time, approxi-
mately, for their wedding, but as Baug was not
yet out of the way, and as Miss Letitia was still
pessimistic as to what the colored man would
amount to as a colored man, Clotille, anxious, if
6


82 POINTING THE WAY.
possible, to retain her cousin’s favor and obtain
the fortune, was not disposed as yet to yield to
Conroe's pleadings.
Conroe had learned that his color formed the
basis of Miss Letitia's objections to him, and the
situation grieved him sorely.
“It is a downright shame for a dark man to
have to battle for the hand of a dark girl. It is
an abomination,” was Conroe's comment on the
situation.
He felt assured that Clotille loved him, but was
deeply stung that she should hold back for a mo-
ment on account of the fortune. Having brooded
over his case a great deal, the day of the football
game found him in a rather desperate mood. In
fact, he was largely disheartened and was rather
indifferent in spirit as to whether he did or did
not continue the battle of life, afflicted as he was
at such a vital point by a reflection of color preju-
dice or color handicap within his own race.
Of course there were thousands and thousands
of colored people of light complexion who did
not draw the color line, but what advantage was
this fact to Conroe when the one mulatto who had
charge of the girl of his choice did draw the line?
Conroe bestowed upon the school which he was
attending a wealth of devotion, being profoundly
grateful to it for having provided the way by
means of which he could catch an inspiring
glimpse of the upper realms of life, even if he
was not to be spared to enter those realms.


CONROE DRISCOLL. 83
It was his resolve, therefore, to yield every atom
of his strength to the task of winning the victory
for his team that day, and it mattered little to him
as to the price that should be exacted of him, even
unto his death.
The ball was put into play, and it was soon
seen that the two teams were about evenly
matched. The first half of the game was played
with honors about evenly divided, neither side
scoring. But when the second half opened it was
Soon apparent that some mighty force was at work
on Conroe's team, and it was Conroe himself. In a
manner that showed an utter disregard for his
own safety, and that sent chill after chill of fear
to Clotille's heart, he played his part in the game
with almost superhuman strength.
The opposing team was quick to note where
their danger lay and began to center their at-
tacks on Conroe in an effort to weaken him.
The fact that he invited the attacks of the entire
opposing team did not daunt, but seemed rather
to please him. When called upon to carry the
ball it was a thrilling sight to all save Clotille
to see the manner in which he ploughed along,
with the opposition in its entirety clinging to
him. When the ball was in the enemy's hands, like
a steam engine he broke through all oppo-
sition and tackled the one carrying the ball, only
to be heavily piled upon himself by the opposition
team.
How Conroe craved a blow that would kill!


84 POINTING THE WAY.
“Others have died on the football ground, and
why may not I?” was the cry of his heart.
Conroe's team was nearing the goal line of
the opposition and the ball was given to him for
a plunge. A dash, a crush, a falling down, the
ball carried forward to the danger line, and Con-
roe lay gasping upon the ground. Water carriers
rushed to him with their sponges and the doctors
were summoned.
“Two ribs broken, it seems,” one doctor mur-
mured to another.
“Oh, is he dead? Is he dead?” cried Clotille,
dropping to her knees, clasping her hands, her
heart the home of agony.
When Conroe regained consciousness he sprang
to his feet and said: “I am all right.”
The doctor looked at him, saw that he gave no
sign of being pained, and thought that he had
possibly been mistaken. The doctor suggested
that he leave the game, but Conroe said:
“Oh, go away lady doctor. I am all right.
Get to your places, boys.”
The two teams now faced each other for the
final play. The time for the game was all but out
and neither team had thus far scored. The team
whose goal line was now threatened saw no op-
portunity to score against Conroe's team, but
with grim determination they awaited this final
assault, resolved to use every atom of force in
their beings to prevent the score.


CONROE DRISCOLL. 85
The captain had his doubts about Conroe's abil-
ity to handle the ball at this crisis owing to the
manner in which he had been battered. He turned
to catch the gleam of Conroe's eye to see whether
the latter felt equal to the task.
“See that I get that ball,” was the message that
Conroe flashed to the captain.
The opposition team caught the exchange of
significant glances and prepared for Conroe. The
whistle blew, the signals were called, and Conroe
received the ball.
“In this happy hour, across the goal line of the
enemy, oh, heaven, give me death, give me death!”
With this prayer upon his lips, Conroe made
the plunge. Like wild beasts of the forests the
opposition swarmed about him, trying to pull him
down. His whole body seemed to him one great
pain and he felt as though a world was upon him,
but somehow he did not shrink. His will appeared
to have converted his muscles into iron. Sup-
ported by his team, he slowly, steadily pushed the
struggling mass of humanity opposing him, back
and back and back, inch by inch.
The mighty throng held its breath.
Slowly, doggedly, with grim determination,
Conroe, backed by his resolute team, continued to
push his way until, across the goal line, he fell to
the ground, clutching the ball as with hooks of
steel.


86 POINTING THE WAY.
A mighty shout broke out upon the air and men
wild with enthusiasm rushed to the scene intend-
ing to carry Conroe on their shoulders around
the grounds.
But when the struggling players had disen-
tangled themselves it was found that Conroe did
not rise.


CHAPTER XI.
EINA BEGINS TO PLAN.
II: INA had noted the desperate character of
|C.
|# Conroe's playing, and her woman’s intui-
s
- tion told her at once that his bearing was
that of a soul struggling with some dark shadow.
Learning where Conroe was taken for treat-
ment, Eina called on him, and by her warm, un-
feigned sympathy, completely won his confidence.
To her he told the story of his baffled love, how
that Clotille, the girl of his choice, was being
withheld from him on account of his color.
As Conroe was a noble, handsome fellow Eina
divined at once that the trouble was not to be
found in him but somewhere in things external to
him. As she gazed upon his fine, manly face,
listened to the sentiments of his heart and thought
of his love for one of his own mould, from whom
he was being debarred by sinister influences in
American life, she then and there resolved to
dedicate her life to the sweeping away of what-
ever barriers stood in the way of the happiness
of her beloved Clotille and the admirable Conroe.
Here then was to be a battle royal within the
colored race, Eina of the light complexion bat-
tling against Miss Letitia of the light complexion,
the two taking opposite views with regard to the
destinies of two dark persons.


88 POINTING THE WAY.
Eina had learned to esteem very highly Uncle
Jack's philosophizings, and now that she was
about to plan for the purging of the atmosphere
that there might be a larger measure of hope for
a man of the dark hue and less of sentiment
against him, she thought that it would be well
for her to go back into the past, that its mis-
takes might be a guiding influence in any new
movement projected.
“Uncle Jack,” said Eina, one day, as she stood
observing him as he washed the buggy, “do tell
me how it is that you colored people and the
white people have gotten so far apart here in the
South. From what I can learn there was less of
personal freindship after the war than during
and before it. How was that?”
“Ef yer’ll wait ’tell I’m done dis buggy, an’
let me hab er extry big chaw uv terbacky, an’ll
lets take seats out heah in de shade uv de big tree,
I'll make it plain er 'nough fur er babe,” said
Uncle Jack.
After the buggy was washed, Eina arranged the
chairs and suffered Uncle Jack to equip himself
with his thought stimulator. Thus situated, Uncle
Jack launched into his subject.
“Befo de War I uster heah de white men
'scussin' frein’ de slaves, an’ de one thing dat dey
said kep’’um back wuz dey thort dat de cullud peo-
ple coulden’t be kep' at wuk ’cep’in ez slaves.
Dat's one reasun dat love nor money could make


EINA BEGINS TO PLAN. 89
mos’ uv de 'ristocrat white folks 'gree ter turn de
slaves loose.
“Whut is rich sile wid no plow ter turn it up?
Home uv weeds,” said Uncle Jack, pausing to
empty his mouth of accumulated tobacco juice.
“Wal, w’en 'manserpation come we uns had
sevvul notions. Fust we thort ter’joy our liburtee
by restin’ er while, jes' ter see how it feel not ter
be at wuk some time. We wuz by our liburtee lak
er leetul boy wider new top. We wanted ter
play wid it ter see how it would do. Den ergin,
we uns felt dat we could 'joy our liburtee better
on some udder plantation dan on ourn. Yer see
it wuz mighty hard fur er feller ter stan’ whar he
uster be beat an’ bellow laker steer an’ feel he
wuz er man. Dat ole creepy feelin’ would some-
how come back, an’so lots uv de cullud people lef’
fur udder plantations jes' ter git plum erway frum
ole times. Den ergin er new man mout not feel so
spry 'round yer as yer own massa.
“Wal, de white folks thort we wuz quittin' fur
good, an’ didun’t understan’ why we wuz runnin’
frum farm ter farm. De cullud folks wuz huntin’
fur de place whar dey could 'joy dare liburtee an’
manhood feelin's mos’.
“Now dare wuz er nudder fac’. Dare wuz mo'
in slav'ry cepin’ wuk. Dare wuz 'buse in it an no
talkin’ back. Dat wuz er big part uv it.
“De white people 'spected ter keep up dat,
but de cullud man wanted ter talk back. So w'en
de legislachurs met dey brung er 'bout laws dat


90 POINTING THE WAY.
jam by put us in slav’ry ergin. Fac’ it wuz so
close on ter it dat dare wuzunt no fun in it.
“Wal atter so long er time, de Norf, seein’
whut we wuz headin’ towards, stepped in an’ says
we ain’t goin’ ter hab no more slav’ry ter be
fightin' Ovah. Dat wuz how we got de ballut, ter
put men in de legislachur dat would keep us free
an’’peal back dem jam by slav’ry laws.
“Wal, de legislachurs kep’ us free all right
an’ we at las’ felt lak men dem days. But de
white people sez dat dem legislachurs treated
dem almos’ ez bad ez I heahs de people uv New
Yawk an’ Phillerdelphia an Fran Sancisco hez
been treated by some white folks.
“Wal, de bes’ white people didun’t think we wuz
fittin’ ter vote an’ woulden’t hab nothin’ ter do wid
us. Wal, we jes” had ter take de skallerwags.
Now, ef dare is enny one thing er cullud man do
know it is de diffunce ’tween a quality white man
an’ trash. But ef yer jes' kain’t git logs ter burn,
yer jes' mus’ use chips. Comin’ ter de pint uv
de white an’ cullud people's fallin’ out it wuz
mos' 'bout de plans de white folks took ter deal
wid 'um. -
Just here a Smile appeared on Uncle Jack’s face,
that smile that was always the forerunner of some
humorous experience.
“What is it now, Uncle Jack?” asked Eina,
coaxingly.
“I’spec’ I kin make my meanin’ er leetul plainer
ter yer by jes’ citin’ sumpin’ dat happunned ter
me once 'pon er time.” -


EINA BEGINS TO PLAN. 91
“All right, Uncle Jack; out with it,” said Eina.
“I’membah w’en I wuz er young buck an’ fust
tuk it in my head ter try ter go wid de gals. De
gal dat I coated fust, dat is, dat I thort I wuz
coatin', wuzer big, fat, lakley-lookin' gal, an’ wuz
ez good ter look at ez er nice fat pig at hog-
killin’ time. An I mus’’fess dat I shuah did lak
her. She could talk laker poll paritt, walk ez
proud ezer peacock, sing laker markin' bird an’
dance lak er buzz saw. W’en evah I would see
her doin’ enny uv dem things it would make me
feel good all ovah, an’ I would jes’ say ter myself,
'Ef I could jes' git dat gal, I’d feel prouder dan ef
I could eat wheat bread an’ chicken fur er whole
month.”
“De trouble 'twixt me an’ dat gal come erbout
in dis way. Ez I jes' said, she wuz er talker. Wal,
I wuzunt in dem days. W’en I wuzunt whar she
wuz I could jes’ talk ter her laker churn dasher
talkin’ ter two gallons uv clabber, an’ goin’ splish
er splash. But jes ez shuah ez I got whar de gal
wuz, er lump uv some kin’ allus riz right up in
my throat an’ ter save my life I couldent talk
ter her.
“I thort I wuz cunjured an’ went ter er cunjure
doctah. He told me dat dare wuz er worm in my
throat dat some buck had done had ter git in dare
ter eat up my wurruds, so ez I coulden’t beat his
time wid de gal. I done whut he tole meter do,
but de wurruds wuz et up jes’ ez fas' ez evah.
But I wuz jes ez steady goin’ ter see her ez evah.


92 POINTING THE WAY.
De buck dat wuz tryin’ ter beat my time, he would
come ter see her, an’ me an him would set an’
set, one tryin’ ter out set de udder. Dis buck
had er whole lot uv gab an' I seed he wuz goin'
ter beat my time, so I jes' up an’ tole him dat
I would lick de Stuffenin’ Outen him ef he showed
up at dat gal's house ergin.
“De gal by dis time had erbout got plum tired
uv me, 'cause I wuz kinder lak dey say Moses wuz,
slow uv speech, an’ she 'sided ter help de udder
feller.
“De nex’ visitin’ time, she wuz out en er leetul
grove not fur frum de house whar she wuz stay-
in’, an’ dis buck wuz dare wid her. W’en I went
whar she wuz she cum up ter me an’ kinder fell
on my neck an’ said, ‘Oh, Mistah Jack, doan fit
right heah ter night.” “He said he wuz goin'
ter whup me ter night, an’ he’s got ter do it,”
said de buck dat was my orrival fur de gal.
“W’en he said dat, I made fur him, wid he gal
pullin’ at my coat tail. Yer mout not b'leve it,
but dat gal slipped er big dead Snake in my coat
pockit. Evah botty 'roun’ dem plantations
knowed dat I wuz Skeert uv Snakes, dead er
erlive, an’ she had kilt dat snake an’ kep’ him jes’
fur me atter she seed de fight wuz comin’. De
udder feller squared hisself an’ we wuz ready
fur de fight w’en de gal said, ‘Laws a mussy,
Mistah Jack, yer been layin’ down somewhar
an’ er big snake done crawled up in yer pockit.”
“Quick ez er flash I retched er han’ ter my


EINA BEGINS TO PLAN. 93
pockit, ter see ef she wuz er jokin’. Wal, sah,
w’en my han’ teched dat slick sarpin’ down in dat
pockit de cole chills jes' chased one er nudder
up an’ down my back.
“Talk erbout dancin, yer Uncle Jack danced in
er clean place 'long erbout den. I hollered, “Heah,
feller, help me git rid uv dis snake. Come quick.’
“Whut erbout de gal?” he said ter me. “Plague
tek de gal, I’m bothered 'bout snakes jes' now.’
said I, dancin' 'roun’ and 'roun’, holdin’ my coat
tail ez fur frum me ez I could. ‘Ef yer will
promis' me dat yer won’t bother my gal no more,
I’ll help yer wid de Snake,” he said.
“Wal, I felt dat ef sumpin’ didunt happen de
snake wuz goin’ ter wake up an’ bite meter death,
an’ den de feller would hab de gal. I thort quick
an’ said, ‘It’s bettah ter be live widout de gal dan
be dead widout her; yer kin hab all de gals in de
worl’ef yer will help me ter save my life frum dis
Snake.” Den de feller an’ de gal come an helped
meter git off my coat an’ de Snake wuz shook out.
W’en I foun’ out dat de Snake Wuz dead I felt So
'shamed dat I slunk erway frum dat place an’
didun’t go back dare no more, nevah no more.
“Now de gal had er perfic’ right ter git rid er
me, but dare wuz er more systermatic way uv
goin' 'bout it. Ef she had jes' said, “Mistah Jack,
yer ain’t got quite ernough gab fur me, an I laks
some one else better’n I doos yer, dat woul’ hab
settled de whole mattah.
“Now, I says dis, an I sticks ter it: De cullud


94 POINTING THE WAY. .
folks knows er quality white man w'en dey sees
one, an’ dey hez allus been willin’ ter foller de
quality folks ef dey would only let ’um. W'en
we foun’ dat our legislachurs wuz doin’ bad,
ef de good white folks had come at us right, lak
dey doos ter one er nudder w’en dey fin’ dat dey
hez put er bad gang in, we would hab help ’um
ter turn de raskils out. An’ ter dis day, dey kin
git us ter wuk right wid’um ef dey will only come
atter us kinder right. 'Cordin’ ter my notion,
den, de biggis' thing dat put an’ keeps de cullud
an’ white folks er part is de unsystermatic way de
white folks hez uv comin’ at de cullud folks ter
straighten out things.”


CHAPTER XII.
THAT IS THE QUESTION.
|HE next afternoon as Eina was sitting upon
| her porch reading a Belrose paper, Uncle
" Jack was in her front yard looking from
flower bed to flower bed to see just which of the
flowers demanded his attention. His kindly face
was aglow with the love he felt as he moved
about among these tender, beautiful children of
the soil.
Eina, now keenly alive to anything bearing on
racial friction, had just come across a tribute
to the famous Ku Klux Klan, and the laudatory
character of the reference was so at variance
with all that she had heard of the organization
that she read the tribute through several times
and then summoned Uncle Jack to read the article
to him.
As she proceeded to read, she looked up and
noted such a look of woe upon Uncle Jack’s face
that she became alarmed.
“Why, dear Uncle Jack, what on earth is the
Imatter?”
Uncle Jack was shivering from head to foot.
“Fur de Lawd's sake doan’, doan’ talk erbout
dem Ku Kluxes,” he groaned.
“Why, Uncle Jack?”


96 POINTING THE WAY.
“Wal, I'll tell yer, Miss Eina,” said Uncle Jack,
now taking his chew of tobacco out of his mouth
and tossing it into the cuspidor, saying, as he did
so, “W’en I comes ter de Ku Kluxes I doan’ need
nuthin’ to Stimmerlate me.”
“Fust uv all doan'yer b'lieve dat de white peo-
ple had ter oggunize ter purteck dare wimmin
folks. Nevah been done since de worl’ com-
minced, dat is, down 'mongst our white folks.
Evah since I knowed er heered 'bout white folks
er white ’oman’s cry hez been er army an' genuls
an’ cunnels an evah thing. White folks doan’ no
more have ter oggunize ter purteck dare wimmins
dan dey do ter have ter go ter bed at night. White
men jes’ nachally doos dat. I doan’ know who
b'longed ter de Ku Kluxes w’en it fust started an’
I doan’ know whut it wuz started fur, but I got
jes’ two things ergin 'um,” said Uncle Jack.
“Now that’s what I want to hear from some
sober old-time colored man like you,” said Eina.
“Dare ain’t ben no day in dis Souf lan’ w’en
de bes’ white folks coulden’t git de cullud folks
ter wuk wid dem ef dey wanted ter. De truf uv
de whole mattah is dat dey jes' ain’t wanted ter
wuk wid us in polertics. Dat is de long an’ de
short uv it.
“Ef de White folks had come ter de cullud
people in de right sperrit dey could hab put de
wrong-doers out uv businiss. 'Stead uv jinin’
han’ wid de cullud people an’ throwin’ de wrong-
doers out, de Ku Kluxes come er long ter put de


THAT IS THE QUESTION. 97
cullud folks out uv polertics all together. Evah
botty knows dat dare wuz wrong goin’ on, but it
wuz er qusshum ez ter whut wuz de bes’ way ter
git de change. Now dare ain’t no use in nobotty
sayin’ de white folks doan’ know how ter lead de
cullud folks by peacerble means. I tells yer ergin,
dey wuz jes’ erbove dealin’ wid dare formah slaves
eZ men, an’ dat is whut brung de Ku Kluxes
erbout.”
“I think I understand your viewpoint, Uncle
Jack,” said Eina.
“But here wuz de wustest harm dat wuz done
by de Ku Kluxes. In evah man under de sun dare
is some bad. In evah race dare is some men in
whom more bad gits piled up dan good. Evah
race hez got some mighty bad folks. De Ku
Kluxes by de secrit an’ night ways dat it had,
furnished er cloak fur all de bad men in de Souf.
“Dey says now dat de real Ku Kluxes wuz er
Kuiut, lady-lak oggunerzation fur helpin’ poor
'fenseless folks. Wal, de bad white folks mus’
er bin kep out er de lady-lak Ku Kluxes, an’ got
up er diffunt kind whut run erlong in de shadow
uv de udders. De lady-lak Ku Kluxes mus’ er
wuked mostly 'mong de white folks, fur I ain’t
never foun'er cullud man yit dat run up ergin ’um
dat come erway thinkin’ dat he had been layin’ in
some nice ’oman’s arms. W'en de lady-lak Ku
Kluxes got up dis midnight secrit way uv doin’
things evah bad man in de Souf clapped his han’s
fur joy. Evah debbul kotched right hold uv de
7


THAT IS THE QUESTION. 99
got me. Dare dead botties showed dat dey wuz all
de Wuss men erroun’. Feelin’ dat dare wuk would
be took fur Ku Klux wuk, dey had come ter en’
my days.
“My pore, pore ole ’oman an’ leetul brats dat
mout be heah ter comfirt my ole age!
“Ef de Ku Kluxes did enny good, de plans dey
brung erbout, midnight an’ secrit doin’s, made it
mighty bad fur enny cullud man who had er white
enemy enny whar in de lan’.
“It wuz er pity de white folks didun’t lead de
cullud folks erway 'stead er 'sortin’ to de mid-
night plan dat wuz so easy and glatly tuck up by
bad people.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh ! Let's not talk erbout Ku
Kluxes. It’s goin’ ter be so much bettah when
de white folks makes it up in dare min’s dat dey
will turn in an’ try ter wuk wid de cullud folks.
I sticks ter it. Good white people kin lead de
cullud folks ef dey will jes’’gree ter do so.”
Uncle Jack paused awhile, as if in medita-
tion. “Miss Eina, do yer think de bes’ white peo-
ple will evah 'gree ter wuk 'long wid de cullud
people in de same perlittercul yoke? Dat is de
qusshun,” said Uncle Jack, as much to himself
as to Eina.
“That is the question,” said Eina, lost in deep
thought.


CHAPTER XIII.
EINA AND BAUG.
|E. |INA thought long over what Uncle Jack
had let fall in his talks, and now decided
that she would play the part of mediator
and bring the better elements of white and col-
ored people of Belrose together, out of which har-
monious relationship there would spring more
benign influences to Smile upon the pathway of her
friends, Conroe and Clotille.
In keeping with this purpose Eina wrote the
following note:
“My Dear Mr. Peppers: Will you please call
at my home at eight o’clock this evening? Sharpen
your wits, for I have a serious puzzle for you to
unfold. Cordially,
“EINA RAPONA.”
“Will I? Will a pig eat corn? Will a bee draw
nectar from a flower? Will I call to see Miss
Rapona? I should say that I will,” said the happy
Baug upon receiving the beautifully written note
that Eina had sent him. Exactly at one minute to
eight he was ringing the door bell of Eina’s home.
Eina was attired very simply on this occasion,
and by virtue of this very fact was all the more
beautiful, thought Baug.
After a brief conversation on current topics
Eina plunged into the matter for which she had
summoned Baug. -


EINA AND BAUG. 101
“I have asked you here to help me solve the
race question for Belrose,” said Eina, her beau-
tiful eyes resting upon Baug with a trustful
glance.
If Eina had asked Baug to blow up the universe,
accompanying the request with that look of confi-
dence, he would not have had the heart to have
said that what she asked was impossible. And yet
he felt that he must get the stupendous nature of
the task before her.
“Some very able people say that the question
is absolutely unsolvable,” said Baug, taking pains
by his tone of voice to have himself excluded from
the group of unbelievers.
“I am of the opinion that it is decidedly easy
of Solution, at least so far as Belrose is concerned,”
said Eina.
“Let me hear you on that point, Miss Rapona,”
said Baug, his interest greatly heightened.
“Years of development since emancipation have
produced a group of cleanly, cultured, aspiring
people in the colored race. The first step in the
solution is for this group to take charge of and
guide the racial thought and life. It can be done,
and the confidence of the people in your character
and ability point to you as the one man to weld
this controlling group and to link it on to the
masses of the colored people,” said Eina.
“The dearest compliment that was ever paid me
in my life, when I reflect on the source,” said
Baug, feelingly.


102 POINTING THE WAY.
Eina bowed her thanks and continued:
“There is a thoroughly enlightened and humane
class among our white neighbors that can be
reached, I think. With the colored people properly
guided and working in unison with the strength
of the white people of the South, you will soon
have no problem.”
“I really think that you have the whole matter
in a nutshell, Miss Rapona. I am at your service.
In fact, all of my thoughts have been turned in
this direction. I can hardly say for what I have
been waiting. An inspiring force, I suppose,” said
Baug.
“Now, Mr. Peppers, in my opinion your yoke
mate among the whites should be Lawyer Molair,
Seth Molair.”
“Miss Rapona,” said Baug, in a subdued voice,
“have you noticed how very often our minds have
run in the same channel?”
Pausing a moment, and looking directly into
Eina’s face, that he might at least at this juncture
hint at the deeper emotions of his heart, he asked
slowly, “What do you think is the significance of
this mental affinity?”
Eina blushed slightly. “Let us discuss the
psychology of our agreeing after we have won
Our battle,” said Eina, in a tone that revealed
the fact that the hour when personal questions
between herself and Baug were to be taken up
would not be an unwelcome one.


EINA AND BAUG. 103
It was now agreed that Baug was to proceed at
once to the organizing of the colored people of
Belrose and the putting of all that was highest in
their life in the lead. Abortive efforts extending
over many years to have certain amendments to
the federal constitution enforced by influences
without the South had convinced many of the more
thoughtful colored people that it was high time
for them to inaugurate some movement within
the South itself that would serve to ameliorate the
situation. Baug experienced, therefore, but little
trouble in harnessing the substantial forces within
the Negro race in his movement. The mere pros-
pect of an honorable way to close the long political
war between the races, which had kept the South
in the background of national affairs, and had
operated against the Negroes locally, was hailed
with delight.
The next problem, and the problem, as Baug
viewed the matter, was to win the aid of Molair.


A STRANGE LETTER. 105
“Let me read this letter again,” said Molair.
He now sat down, spread the letter before him
and studied it closely as he read. It ran as
follows:
“Mr. Seth Molair,
“Belrose.
“Dear Sir:
“You do not know me and perhaps never will.
Let me now stand to you as the voice of destiny.
“You are doing wrong. In all your life you
have done nothing actively to make the life of
the colored people unbearable. This is wrong and
I can soon show it to you.
“What we Americans need is homogeneiety in
our population. In the last analysis we ought
to be a people of one type. There is no room
for two or more diverse ethnic types. It works
for inharmony.”
At this point Molair, when he first read the let-
ter, was very much puzzled.
The letter had opened as though it came from
some bitter foe of the Negro, but this last re-
mark seemed to point to amalgamation. With
quickened interest he had gone on with the let-
ter.
“Now, how are we to get this homogeneiety?
“We can’t get the Negro out of America. The
economic forces of the nation, particularly of the
South, and the well known love of the Negro race
for the land of his birth shut that idea out.


106 POINTING THE WAY.
“We can’t murder them. The eternal ages
would not suffice to rid us of the accumulated
strain of brutality that would be necessary for
the wanton slaughter of ten millions of largely
law-abiding and inoffensive people.”
At this point Molair's wrath had begun to
mount and his eye had sought the end of the
letter, desiring to know the name of the author
who, having discarded emigration and annihila-
tion, Molair felt must be on the eve of boldly
suggesting amalgamation. But the next two sen-
tences cured this thought and intensely height-
ened his curiosity to know just what was to be
suggested. The letter continued:
“Nor can we for a moment tolerate the thought
of amalgamation, which would throw us into the
ranks of the colored races and make us heir to
all their disadvantages, internal and external.
Homogeneiety must not come that way.”
“This person must be a crank of some sort,”
Molair had thought at this point.
“I offer two suggestions,” the letter continued,
“either of which would work well, I think. First,
let us pass a law forbidding all people to marry
save mulattoes and white people, allowing mulat-
toes to marry mulattoes only, and whites to marry
whites only. We have on our hands both the li-
cense system and the police power. We can re-
fuse to license black people to marry, and can
throw all of them in jail who try to marry con-
trary to law.”


A STRANGE LETTER. 107
Molair here smiled and said, “The fool. Why
the jails of the world would not hold the pris-
Oners.”
He read on.
“You see, our prison systems in the South are
money-making affairs anyhow, and it would be to
our interest to have more convicts. The men
could be sent to the mines and fields and the wo-
men could be made to serve as cooks and wash-
erwomen. Each home could have a little jail
into which the cook could be put, and the food
to be cooked could be handed in to her. That
would solve the servant problem. As fast as the
blacks died out we could fill their places with for-
eigners.
“The second suggestion is as follows:
“Let us multiply the burdens of the colored
people until the maternal instinct within the race
becomes Saturated with the thought that there
is no hope for the colored people as such.
“I learn that already the most profitable line
of advertisement in the Negro journals is of face
bleaches. The weaklings in the race are deathly
anxious to lose the black complexion.
“Let us make the anxious more anxious, and
widen the circle of anxious ones until it embraces
the millions yet untouched.
“We can heat the race so hot with the fires
of race prejudice that, without being conscious
of it, it will turn against its own color. The
black man will avoid marrying the black woman,


108 POINTING THE WAY.
and the black woman the black man. The de-
cree of nature will go forth that through the
process of natural selection the race must be
whitened.
“The white man and the Negro woman of the
South are free. The Negro men do not molest
the white men, for the Negroes are deterred by
the mob and by State authorities with machine
guns. The results of these unions thrown into the
Negro race can help to whiten that race. By this
route we can produce a white race out of the
Negro race.
“But you will say (I fancy I hear you saying it)
eventually we could not tell colored from white,
and that the colored could then glide into the
white race imperceptibly.
“Brand them! Get a little marker and stamp
on the arm of every infant, ‘This is a colored per-
son. Have the license clerks to force all men
and women desiring to wed to appear before them
in person and show their arms.
“You see in this way we will get the offensive
black color out of our way and yet not have any
of that blood in our race.
“We could require candidates for office to can-
vass with their sleeves rolled up, so as to disclose
a brand or the absence of it, that we might know
whether they were white or colored.
“Now, Mr. Molair, give up your attitude of
kindliness. Let us, I say, continue to drive the
black man and the black woman, as possible


A STRANGE LETTER. 109
mates, farther and farther apart. Create such
conditions as the whole Negro race will rue the
day that it was made black. Sear this thought
into their souls; write it in the marrow of their
bones. Do this, and through the white man, the
weak Negro woman and the tendency of the race
to so marry as to lighten its hue, we will eventual-
ly be rid of the hated color, black.
“For the sake of a homogeneous country don’t
make life easier for the colored race and thus
perpetuate the blacks as blacks.
“Make it harder. Give the colored man the
same rights as you do a white man, and what
incentive has he to desire to be white?”
Such was the letter that had stirred such a deep
interest in Molair. He hardly knew how to take
the letter. Its professed tone was one of hostility
to the Negro race, but he did not believe that a
person with the sense to write the letter could
really favor the policy of cruelty suggested. The
reasoning in the letter at some points seemed
profound; others were absolutely absurd. The
thing that interested Molair most was the thought
that the prejudice of the white race was operat-
ing in the direction at least of trying to create a
stampede of the colored people away from their
color.
“Well, it is a little unreasonable to set a man’s
house on fire and then tell him to stay there,” said
Molair to himself.


CHAPTER XV.
SHE INSISTS.
WJ HEN Baug called at Seth Molair's of-
Wil fice he found that the latter was at home
sick with the smallpox! And as the
manner in which the dreaded disease was con-
tracted might be expected to have Some bearing
on his decision in the matter of such vital con-
cern to Clotille and Conroe, it is perhaps well
to state how the malady was acquired.
One morning as Molair sat in his office he
received a letter from the son of a colored man
whom his father had numbered among his slaves.
This young fellow was in jail charged with hav-
ing committed a murder, but his solemn protesta-
tions of innocence somehow impressed Molair.
The Molairs had never ceased under freedom
to exercise a paternal care over all those who had
belonged to the family in the days of slavery, ex-
tending this interest to their descendants. Thus
though busy, Molair had felt constrained to go to
the aid of the accused man. To begin with, there
was a presumption in Molair's mind in the man’s
favor, for just as the Negroes had great faith in
their white folks, the whites, as a rule, had great
faith in their Negroes.
Arriving in the town where the man was in-
carcerated, Molair repaired to the jail for a con-


112 POINTING THE WAY.
ference. The jail was used very little for white
prisoners, the most of them being able to make
bond, and the jailer, having as a rule nothing but
Negro prisoners to deal with, paid practically no
attention to sanitary conditions in the prison.
As a result, the place reeked with filth. Small-
pox had developed there, had been kept a secret
by such prisoners as knew it, and it was into
this atmosphere, loaded with poisonous germs,
that the kindhearted Molair walked.
Molair assured himself as to the innocence of
the accused man, laid the foundations for a suc-
cessful case, turned the matter over to a local at-
torney, whom he paid well, and returned to Bel-
rose, but not before the taint of smallpox had sunk
into his system.
Deep was Molair's mortification and chagrin
at having the smallpox, in view of its classifica-
tion as a filth disease, and the dark thought now
and then obtruded itself upon him that such was
his reward for troubling himself with the woes
of a colored man.
When Eina heard of Molair's illness, Uncle
Jack was deputized to go and find out what he
could about it. He returned, bringing the news
that it was smallpox with which Molair was af-
flicted, and that he contracted the disease trying
to serve a colored man.
Uncle Jack did not, of course, understand Eina's
plans, but he judged from the look of woe upon her
beautiful face that in some way it was essen-


114 POINTING THE WAY.
“Jack,” said the woman, “don’t you know bet-
ter than to try to leave here without telling me
what you came to tell me? You can’t fool me,
Jack. Now out with it. You came to tell me
something, you bad boy, you.”
“Now, Lucy, dat's all right. Don’t yer bother.
Dat's all right.”
“No, it isn’t all right, and you have got to tell
me what is wrong. I know you, Jack. It is some-
thing serious. I knew it as soon as you came to
that door.” - -
“Wal, Lucy, evah thing dat is lawful ain’t allus
'spedient, yer see. So I mus’ tell yer good night.”
“Jack,” said Mrs. Martin, “you know me. I am
an old woman, and you know I have a number of
white and colored children and grandchildren
in this place. Some one of my children must be
sick to-night for you to be here. Now, have pity
On a poor old woman. Don’t make me roam this
town all night. Tell me so I can go straight
to him or her.”
“Dat is jes’ why I doan’ want ter tell yer. I sees
dat yer constertution ain’t de bes’ an’ yer might
not be ekal ter de tas’.”
Mrs. Martin did not hear the last part of this re-
mark for she was busy getting up her nursing
aprons and her favorite little remedies. At length
she had all that she was looking for, and forget-
ting in her anxiety to tell her home people good-
bye, went at once with Uncle Jack to the buggy.
When seated by Uncle Jack's side Mrs. Martin


SHE INSISTS. 115
said, “Jack, I haven’t been feeling right for a week
or more. I just knew that something was going on
wrong. Now, Jack, since you can’t outdo me, be
a good boy and tell me who it is of my folks
that's sick.”
“Wal, ef I mus', I mus', but 'pon my honah I
done all I could not ter tell. It’s Seth.”
“Seth ! Poor, poor Seth ! What ails him?”
asked Mrs. Martin, eagerly.
“Smallpox.”
“Father have mercy! That dirty, filthy dis-
ease in my family. Why, the thoughts of it are
enough to kill poor Seth. It's a wonder he isn’t
dead and buried. I wish I could get hold of the
dirty, lousy scamp that gave it to him. I’d wring
his neck till he—he—well, I wouldn’t kill him.
But he’d be so near dead that he would enjoy
life when he got back to it. Poor, poor Seth.
And they have been keeping it from me. They
knew I was ailing a little. My poor, poor boy.
Mammy will be there soon. Rest easy, mammy
is coming, Seth.”
Thus rambled Lucy Martin, Seth Molair's black
mammy, as Uncle Jack whirled her along through
the streets of Belrose to Seth Molair's home.


THE CRUX. 117
“Your race in England and America divides
into two great, almost evenly matched parties, into
active and corrective, creative and critical forces.
Your Southern white primaries dominated by
the one party invite in only one-half of the soul
of your race. About one-half of this racial soul,
already halved, mark you, may dominate your
white primary, and the verdict of this half of the
half soul of the race is accepted without a serious
try out before the whole soul,” said Baug.
“Here is a thoughtful colored man,” said Mo-
lair to himself, growing deeply interested. To
Baug he said, “Let me see if I catch the point of
your Douglass joke. You think that for a full
expression of the soul of our race we need two
parties, creative and critical, that such opposite
forces naturally flourish not in the same but in
opposing parties just as the human family di-
vides itself into sexes, and when we have only
one party just one-half of the racial soul is
at work, the Irishman’s ‘half naygur.’”
“Exactly, Mr. Molair. It is true that you now
and then let down your bars so that a white
man of a political faith other than that of your
dominant party can enter and vote, but his con-
nection with the other party forces him to come in
quietly, so that you still miss that unfettered fer-
ment of the whole Anglo-Saxon spirit, that grand,
free play of all the forces of your racial soul that
has in reality been the source of the political
greatness of your race. Now just read this, Mr.


118 POINTING THE WAY.
Molair,” said Baug, handing him a clipping from
the leading daily paper of Belrose.
Mr. Molair read as follows:
“Doubtless when the official conduct of this
creature is laid bare it will reveal him as a grafter,
hypocrite and dirty whelp, which would fit with
his known character of a coarse, revolting, lying
demagogue and disgusting barbarian, who would
never associate with gentlemen except by suffer-
ance and to their annoyance.”
“Well, what about it?” asked Molair.
“That is said about one of your United States
Senators, an output of your primary. Can you
conceive of the whole Soul of the white race
being in travail and giving birth to such a
man? That is a product of your half soul.
You Southern white people constantly say that
Senators like this are not truly representative of
your people. They do not represent your people
at their highest, but they do illustrate the fruit of
your half soul system, or rather your quarter soul
system of elevating men.”
“Since you and our white primary system are
in the ring, what other lick have you for it?”
asked Molair.
“I am a patriot. I love the South. I would like
to see the South take its old-time place in the
councils of the nation. If we of the South con-
tinue to send our quarter soul products to compete
with the whole soul products of other sections,
where the white race crowns its victors after a


THE CRUX. 119
try out before the full racial strength, we will
always be behind, I fear,” said Baug earnestly.
“How does this in your judgment affect the col-
ored people?” asked Molair.
“Let me repeat what your leading paper of
Belrose says about that Senator.
“‘Doubtless when the official conduct of this
creature is laid bare it will reveal him as a
grafter, hypocrite and dirty whelp, which would
fit with his known character of a coarse, revolt-
ing, lying demagogue and disgusting barbarian,
who would never associate with gentlemen except
by sufferance and to their annoyance.”
“Now, if your quarter soul system produces
that type of a man for a Senator, just think what
your chances are for getting jailers, sheriffs,
policemen, prison guards and the like, who, armed
with the State's authority, have over prisoners
and the public the power of life and death,” said
Baug.
“How do the colored people of Belrose fare at
the hands of the police force?” asked Molair.
“You know, Mr. Molair, there was a time in
England when a man would be hanged for a com-
paratively light offense, but that was long, long
ago. The police of Belrose have turned the hand
on the dial of civilization back, back, back to those
dark days. They have actually made it an offense,
punishable by death, for a colored boy or man to
run from an officer, however slight the offense.”
“Is that really the case?” asked Molair.


120 POINTING THE WAY.
“Mr. Molair,” said Baug, earnestly, “what else
could you expect? With your great men gone
into hiding and your weaker spirits in the sad-
dle, elected to office without regard to the colored
people, they often, oh, often, actually turn the gov-
ernment into an engine of oppression. Sheriffs
sometimes connive at lynchings. Police often mur-
der wantonly. Gubernatorial candidates, finding
that our hands are tied, and that there are votes
to be made by bitterly attacking us, do not hesitate
to so do. The spirit of repression, cultivated
and kept at fever heat by the seekers for votes,
permeates the entire social atmosphere. Denying
us a voice, the government, by the act of exclu-
sion, brands us with the mark of a Cain, and as
we go forth we find increasingly the hand of man
raised against us. And I predict that, with the
Negro denied a voice in the government, this
fact in itself will deepen and deepen the gulf
between the races. With the whites being gov-
erned by its weaker minds, as I pointed out, and
with those weaker minds in charge of a race,
both helpless and contemned, you may guess the
rest.”
Continuing Baug said: “No class of colored peo-
ple in Belrose feel safe. If you knew the extent
of the maltreatment of all classes of colored people
by some members of the police force, it would
amaze you. Brutal assaults, and murder, wanton,
wanton, wanton murder of man after man has
been committed and yet not even a reprimand has


THE CRUX. 121
ever been given to those who have done the killing,
though witnesses of character, white and colored,
have endeavored to bring the accused to trial.”
“Tell me exactly now what you desire of me,”
Molair said, evidently deeply moved by what Baug
had said.
“Those of us who abide in the Negro race
realize the disadvantages that come to us as a
result of being a negligible quantity in the body
politic. The type of men that comes to the front
has respect for the unit of power, nothing else;
and, so long as the Negro's face is a badge of
weakness, it will be just as difficult to maintain
respect for his interests with that class as it is to
keep an unmuzzled horse that is loose in a pas-
ture from eating green grass spread out in abund-
ance around him. We desire to be a part of the
government. We desire that you make the race
for the mayoralty of our city and appeal to the
whole body of your fellow citizens, white and col-
ored, for support. When those who persecute
us find that we have a voice in the making and
the unmaking of officials we shall receive more
humane treatment. Such, Mr. Molair, is our re-
quest of you,” said Baug.
“Of course you know that you are asking me
to cut myself off from all hope of preferment
save that of a local nature. If I take hold of
you here on an independent basis, I lose my party
regularity. You know what that means. But
that is not vital. A Molair is not dependent upon


122 POINTING THE WAY.
public station for a place in history. He can make
his own throne,” said Molair to Baug.
“I do not see the matter altogether in that
light, Mr. Molair. Party and sectional lines are
being less and less tightly drawn. It is only a mat-
ter of a few years before the nation will again
pick its Presidents from our section, and if such
men as you are put forward as candidates you will
find no happier, more enthusiastic supporters than
will be the colored people. Without any desire to
offer flattery, I know of no Southerner better
equipped than you to fill that high office.”
“Thank you,” said Molair, who really valued
the good will of the colored people.
Continuing Baug said: “That man, white or
black, who can construct a political yoke in which
the Negroes and the best white people of the South
may work together in harmony will deserve more
than the presidency. He will deserve a place in
the ranks of the immortals alongside the two
other great Southerners, Thomas Jefferson, whose
mind coined that slow-burning fuse, “All men are
created equal,” and Abraham Lincoln, who issued
the emancipation proclamation.”
“It is quite a picture you dangle before my
eyes. But, preferment beyond our city life or no
preferment, I have had recently a most touching
example of self-sacrifice that ought to spiritually
equip me for all time for unselfish service,” said
Molair.
Arising from his seat, Molair went to a window


THE CRUX. 123
and looked out while he talked to Baug, to whom
his back was now turned. He dared not trust
himself face to face with Baug while he was
discussing the subject which had now come into
his mind, for he was upon the verge of Shedding
tears. -
When he had regained sufficient control of his
feelings to permit, Molair resumed the conversa-
tion, saying: “Yes, Mammy Lucy, that dear Soul
who in my infancy crooned above my cradle and
rocked me to sleep with her lullaby songs; who
saw that my every boyish whim was gratified;
who washed and anointed my bruises and com-
forted my childish heart when, beaten and humil-
iated in a fight, I fled to the shelter of her apron;
who more than once, with her sympathetic na-
ture, wooed disease from me and drew it upon
herself—Mammy Lucy taught me in its fullness
the lesson of human love, when, hearing of my ill-
ness, she came with her wan face and emaciated
form, and took my life from the altar of death
and in its stead sweetly laid thereon her own.
With my heart green with the memory of her
Sublime self-renunciation, I am in a mood, as a
sort of atonement, to forego vital interests of my
own for the sake of the interests of others.”
After Molair had delivered himself thus, he
stood in silent meditation for awhile, then turned
and walked toward Baug, and said, “Go your way.
This is a grave, grave question. I must have time
for reflection. I received a peculiar letter not long


124 POINTING THE WAY.
since that has put me to thinking on this ques-
tion more deeply than ever before. I know not
now what my decision will be. May heaven grant
me light.”


CHAPTER XVII.
MOLAIR ON THE ALERT.
£I: 'N keeping with a suggestion from Baug,
** Molair had decided to keep watch on the
- police force to find out just how the Negro
population was faring, so we find him morning
after morning sitting in the city court room, which
was usually filled for the most part with colored
people of the lower order. Besotted men and slov-
enly women, denizens of the slums, constituted the
great majority of those on trial. Drunkenness,
fights as the result of jealousy, petty thefts and va-
grancy were the charges as a rule lodged against
the accused. There happened to be in the group
on this particular morning a nicely dressed col-
ored boy with an open, honest countenance, and
his appearance quickened in Molair an interest in
him. That we may understand just how this boy,
whose fate played an important part in shaping
Molair's decision, happened to be on trial as a
vagrant it is necessary to drop back somewhat
into his history.
One day, a few weeks previous to this trial,
about two o'clock in the afternoon, a crowd of
people, mostly colored, had gathered around a
merry-go-round located on a vacant lot in Belrose.
Charlie Douglass, a colored boy, driving a flour
wagon, passing near the assembled crowd, caught


126 POINTING THE WAY.
sight of a neatly dressed little colored girl with
a package of school books under her arms. He
halted his wagon, dismounted, and drew near to
this girl, ostensibly for the purpose of looking at
the merry-go-round, but in reality to be near the
little girl that had attracted his attention.
In the assembled throng there was a drunken
white man who was using profane language in
the presence of a number of colored girls and
women. The little girl who had attracted Char-
lie's attention was in the group near the man
using the objectionable language.
Charlie walked up to the man quietly and said
to him very politely, “Mister, please don’t talk
that way so the girls and women can hear you.”
The drunken man turned to see who it was
that accosted him. Enraged at the thought of a
Negro daring to criticise his conduct, he drew a
pocket knife, opened it and rushed toward Char-
lie.
As the lad had taken pains to speak so politely,
he was taken by surprise by this sudden onslaught
and had to run backward to avoid being cut. As
the man kept coming toward him, Charlie, as soon
as he could turn, did so and ran with all the
speed at his command, the white man in hot pur-
suit.
The girls and women shouted: “Run, boy, run!
Run, boy, run!”
The feet of the drunken man being somewhat


MOLAIR ON THE ALERT. 127
unsteady, he fell, and thus gave Charlie time to
make his escape. -
Dora Mack, the neatly dressed, nice looking
brown-skinned little girl, that had attracted Char-
lie's attention, now made a hero of him. She
thought it was so nice in him to speak to the hor-
rid man, and the deft manner in which he ran
backward and the speed that he made when he
could get his back to the man, were simply fine,
as Dora viewed the matter. On her way to and
from school each day Dora passed the place
where Charlie worked, and now took occasion to
greet him with a smile whenever she saw him.
He was a nice looking colored boy, even when
covered almost from head to foot with flour; that
is, pretty little Dora Mack thought so.
To Charlie's way of thinking, Dora was just the
girl for him, and he decided to try to stand a little
higher in her favor. The plan which he hit upon
to advance himself in her esteem was to change
his job from the handling of flour to one that
would permit him to wear nice clothes all the time.
“Dora is entitled to a boy that looks nice all
the time,” thought Charlie.
Thus, much to his mother's chagrin, Charlie de-
cided to give up his job. Realizing that her son,
who, since the death of her husband, was her main
support, was doing about as well in point of wages
as a Belrose colored boy was expected to do, Mrs.
Douglass, his mother, strenuously opposed the
change. Charlie tried to mollify her feelings by


128 PoINTING THE waY.
pouring into her lap all his little savings, but even
this did not heal the breach between them.
Nevertheless, Charlie quit his job and “dressed
up,” to enjoy a few days’ vacation and to be able
to walk as far toward her home with Dora on
her way from school as the fear of Dora's
mother would allow him, Dora not being permit-
ted as yet to receive company.
This worked all right for a few days until
Charlie's employer noticed that he was simply
lounging around. This employer had not been
Successful in getting as satisfactory a hand as
Charlie had been, and he was therefore all the
more vexed at him for causing his discomfort
and loss by leaving. He offered the boy an in-
crease in wages to return to work, but it was not
more money that Charlie wanted just now, but
a job that would permit the constant wearing of
clothes nice enough for Dora's beau, pretty, tidy,
little Dora's beau.
Thinking that he might be doing Charlie, Char-
lie's mother and himself a service, the employer
told a policeman of Charlie's lounging place and
suggested that it might serve as a good lesson
to arrest him as a vagrant. Accordingly, one day
before Dora came along, the policeman put Charlie
under arrest and took him to the police station.
It was thus that he made his way into court
where Molair caught sight of and became inter-
ested in him.
Charlie's mother being unable to pay his fine,


MOLAIR ON THE ALERT. 129
the boy was sentenced to the chain gang. This was
a most galling thought for him, it having been
the pride of his family that none of them in any
of its branches had up to that time been arrested.
But that which pricked him to the very heart was
the thought that Dora must know of his incarcera-
tion and perhaps see him at work with the pick
about his ankle.
The carts in which the prisoners rode from the
police court to the streets, from which they were
to clean the mud by scraping with hoes, were
brought around, filled and started off. To Char-
lie's dismay the carts stopped on one of the streets
along which Dora always journeyed to her home.
But her journey on this part of the street was
only for a few blocks, and Charlie hoped that
they would have cleaned off that part along which
Dora came before her hour for passing, and would
thus be out of sight from the point where she
would have to turn the corner leaving that street.
But the day was a little Sultry, and those in
the chain gang were not disposed to work very
rapidly. Charlie worked very hard, doing about
as much work as any three of the others in his
eagerness to have the gang through with Dora's
part of the street ere she came along. But his
course in working so rapidly displeased his easy-
going fellow-prisoners, and they worked all the
more slowly because of this fact.
As time wore on it began to look as though
they were not to do the amount of cleaning de-
9


130 POINTING THE WAY.
sired by Charlie, and desperation and despair
settled over his young heart. His wild, nervous
look, his constant glancing around as if expecting
something, the dark brooding that his face re-
vealed, his working ahead of his companions, at-
tracted the attention of Sherman Elliott, the white
guard, who, unknown to Charlie, was keeping a
special watch on him.
Glancing down the street Charlie saw a group
of high school children coming. The pick which
he had around his ankle was much worn, his keen
eye having noted this defect when choosing the
one to put on. He felt that the pick could be
broken if one was but willing to stand the jar of
the lick necessary. Moving to the curbing, Char-
lie dashed the pick against the stone and sundered
it. Away Charlie bounded, thinking only of Dora
and desiring to be out of her sight as she passed
the chain gang. The guard who had been watch-
ing for this moment, lifted his gun and fired,
wounding Charlie in the back. The boy fell for-
ward on his face and a number of bystanders
rushed to him to lift him up.
“Don’t—don’t turn my face up. Dora, Dora,
Dora!” murmured Charlie.
Thinking that turning him over might perhaps
hurt him, the men followed his request and al-
lowed him to lie with his face downward, while
they telephoned for an ambulance.
“She won’t see; she won’t see,” murmured
Charlie, faintly, his face still toward the earth.


MOLAIR ON THE ALERT. 131
Slowly the Smile of satisfaction over the fact
that Dora would not see and know him faded
from Charlie's face and the little fellow passed
into eternal silence. If the passing Dora looked
upon his lifeless form he at least did not know it.
Sherman Elliott's shot and the fact that there
was not the slightest effort to molest him de-
cided Molair's course, and he crossed the Rubicon.


KICKED OUT. 133
the cleansing, testing, developing influence of a
genuine battle, the very life-breath of other sec-
tions had at last come to this hitherto compla-
cent, if stagnant (so far as political thought was
concerned), city of Belrose.
When the campaign was at its height and it
was discovered that the whites were so evenly
divided that the Negro vote constituted the bal-
ance of power, it was agreed by “organization”
influences that an effort should be made to draw
the support of the Negroes away from the Molair
ticket.
In view of the long record of hostility to the
Negro voters on the part of the “organization,”
no hope was entertained of having large numbers
of them to suddenly change and come to its res-
cue, so money was furnished to an element of
whites that manned the party under whose name
the bulk of the colored people usually voted, to
the end that a ticket bearing the old name might
be brought out to withhold Negro support from
Molair.
One Hon. Thomas Barksdale, perennial can-
didate for the postmastership of Belrose, was
commissioned to harness the Negro voters to this
decoy movement. A group of Negro ward poli-
ticians was summoned to a conference with the
Hon. Thomas Barksdale, and Uncle Jack, hearing
of the conference, decided to be present. At the
appointed hour the committee of Negroes put in
its appearance at Barksdale's office.


134 POINTING THE WAY.
Uncle Jack who prided himself upon dealing
with none but “quality white folks” looked with
manifest disgust at the surroundings. Barks-
dale's office was without carpet, the desk antiquat-
ed, the library of books disarranged, the whole
wearing an unkempt appearance.
Tilted back in a chair, a great, sickly, soulless
smile upon his face, sat the Hon. Thomas Barks-
dale, having upon his head a once high beaver
hat upon which, it would seem from its appear-
ance, some Goliath of Gath had sat, and which
some little David had subsequently tried to
straighten. His smile disclosed the ragged rem-
nants of his teeth and at the same time allowed
two slight streams of tobacco juice to ooze out of
the corners of his mouth, anointing the ends of
his sandy mustache, which, shaped like the claws
of a crab, nestled near his jaws.
When ready for the conference, the Hon.
Thomas Barksdale stood up, bringing in bold
relief his tall, angular frame, his ill-fitting Prince
Albert coat, his pantaloons, baggy at the knees
but a little shirky about reaching well down to
this statesman’s very broad foundation.
“We are all here, I suppose,” said the Hon.
Thomas Barksdale, in that peculiar drawl com-
mon to the uncultivated whites.
“We is,” responded Uncle Jack, who, to the
Surprise of all, assumed the role of spokesman.
“I’ve summoned you here to tell you colored


KICKED OUT. 135
folks that now is your chance,” said the Hon.
Thomas.
“Oh, thank you, sah; thank you, sah,” said
Uncle Jack, effusively.
The Hon. Thomas drew near one of the group,
laid a hand on his shoulder familiarly, closed an
eye, and with the index finger of his free hand
began to wax eloquent.
“Yes, sir, your day has come. There is some
of us who have fit, bled and died, standing up fur
your people,” said he.
“Yes, sah; yes, sah,” said Uncle Jack. “Jes’ ez
yer says, some uv yer hab fit, fled and flied for us
cullud folks.”
The Hon. Mr. Barksdale opened his other eye
to see if he was quite correct, for he fancied he
had caught a note of sarcasm in Uncle Jack's
voice. But Uncle Jack's countenance seemed so
Sober that the Hon. Mr. Barksdale decided that
he was mistaken. He therefore closed the eye
again and proceeded:
“We set you all free, you colored people, and
we are going to stand by you to the last.”
“Yes, sah, I hez heered yer riccord in de
civul war 'scussed ergin an’ ergin, but I allus
heered dat yer had de riccord ez er runner an’
not as er stanner,” said Uncle Jack, humbly
enough.
The Hon. Mr. Barksdale brought his closed eye
back into service, dropped his hand from the
man’s shoulder, and stepped back a little.


136 POINTING THE WAY.
“Now, I can explain that record. You see I
knew that the Yankees needed spies in the South,
and that is why I put on dresses during the war,
and there were things that I knew, that nobody
else knew, and if I had got killed, what would
have become of my knowledge? So whenever a
fight came up, just for the sake of my country, I
always sacrificed my keen desire to fight and ran
so as to preserve my knowledge for the benefit of
the country. I hated to run, but as I said, I sac-
rificed my feelings for my country.”
“Takin’ dat view uv de mattah an’ jedgin' frum
de speed dat yer air said ter hab made in gittin'
out uv Belrose w’en de Sojers come in, yer wuz
sartainly one uv de greatis’ dat is, at leas one
uv de swiftis' paytruts dat de war purduced,”
said Uncle Jack.
Uncle Jack now subsided and allowed the Hon.
Thomas to submit his proposition. When he had
finished, the appointed spokesman of the group,
who had been well groomed by Baug, said:
“Mr. Barksdale, we have followed the lead of
men of your station in life for several decades.
Under your leadership we find the Constitution
nullified, segregation practiced, official maltreat-
ment in full swing. You have been powerless to
influence the situation. Another class of the
whites has been found to work with our leaders
and we are going to see what they can save from
the wreck. We would to God the whites had con-
sented sooner to work with us and had not left


KICKED OUT. 137
us to the mercies of those who sacked the State
government, escaped with the loot and left us with
the odium. Goodbye.”
As the Negroes filed out, the Hon. Thomas
Barksdale stood with his mouth wide open in
astonishment. Uncle Jack was the last to leave,
and the Hon. Mr. Barksdale had so far recovered
his self-possession, or had so much the farther
lost it, that he administered a kick to Uncle Jack.
“Hah, hah, hah; dat's 'bout whut forty years uv
Servin’ hez brung our people frum de pie counter
man; er kick out,” said Uncle Jack.


CHAPTER XIX.
TIGHT PLACE FOR UNCLE JACK.
'LL never believe it! I'll never believe it!
£6 until I see it with these two eyes of mine,
* and then I'll doubt it,” said Miss Letitia.
“Well, cousin, you will see. Seth Molair has
pledged it, and he is a man of his word,” re-
sponded Clotille.
“Yes, but Seth Molair is just one man, even
if he is the mayor of Belrose. The idea of the
white people of Belrose tolerating colored men on
the fire department! They will never do it,” said
Miss Letitia.
“Cousin, you are too hard. I know two South-
ern cities in which white people teach colored
children in the public schools. I know three
Southern cities in which colored men are on the
police force,” replied Clotille.
“Yes, but that isn't Belrose. When the white
people of Belrose put colored men on the fire
department I will know that the millenium is
nigh at hand,” said Miss Letitia in such a manner
that Clotille knew that she desired the conver-
Sation to close.
Upon his election to the office of mayor, Seth
Molair had asked Baug to name him some arm
of the public service in which he would like to
See colored men employed.


140 PoINTING THE waY.
But this very success (the establishment of
harmonious political relations between the races
resulting in the colored fire company) had.raised
another difficulty. Miss Letitia was so elated over
the new company that the very thought of ever
losing it affected her greatly. She realized that it
was the Negro's wise course in the matter of vot-
ing that had secured the company, and she, there-
fore, became deeply concerned about the right to
Vote.
“Oh, I am so afraid that some of those old dis-
franchising laws will come here some day and
upset all this nice work. I will never feel safe
until the Supreme Court has spoken against the
discriminating laws in other States. If that could
be brought about, I believe I could sleep at night.”
It was thus that Clotille discovered that she
had a new and grave problem on her hands.
Straight from the interview with her cousin,
in which this new-found impediment was discov-
ered, Clotille rushed to Eina’s home.
“Eina, Eina, my cousin, I do believe, is begin-
ning to see the light. But one more step needs
to be taken before our road is perfectly clear.”
“Well, in the name of the blessed Virgin, let
us get that out of the way. I do believe I would
as soon contract to move a mountain as to get
you and that Conroe married,” said Eina, laugh-
ingly.
“Now tell me the next step, tell me quickly and
let me get to work on it,” Eina continued.


TIGHT PLACE FOR UNCLE JACK. 141
“We must wipe from the constitutions of cer-
tain Southern states such of their laws as have
the effect of disfranchising colored people on ac-
count of their racial connection,” said Clotille.
Eina’s beautiful, cheerful face took on a sober
look at this announcement, the great difficulties
in the way of having the laws declared unconsti-
tutional occurring to her.
Remembering a Boston acquaintance, eminent
in the legal profession, who had given long and
careful study to the legal aspects of the suffrage
question, Eina forthwith communicated with him,
inclosing an appropriate fee, and in due course of
mail received from him a statement outlining a
course of procedure which in his judgment would
beyond doubt force an unequivocal declaration
from the Supreme Court.
When Eina received the plan she had Clotille
to call and confer with her Over it, a call that
the perturbed Clotille was happy indeed to be
able to make. The plan outlined involved the co-
operation of an illiterate Negro, and after a thor-
ough discussion of all the probabilities and pos-
sibilities in the case it was decided that Uncle
Jack was the best equipped man of their acquaint-
ance to carry through the plan with the least pos-
sible friction and personal danger. The two girls
therefore summoned him into the conference with
them.
Uncle Jack thought he was being summoned to
tell some of his jokes, so he came bringing his


TIGHT PLACE FOR UNCLE JACK. 143
would be very likely to know this crisis when it
came, Uncle Jack. And you are the very man that
we have decided upon.”
Uncle Jack lifted his head back, opened wide
his eyes, while his jaws fell slightly apart. This
serious piece of business was indeed a surprise
to him.
“Yer ladies jes’ wait heah er few minutes an’
I’ll come back an’ give yer er answer.”
So saying, Uncle Jack arose and slowly left
the room, his frame having lost its erect carriage.
After a short stay in the stable, where he had
stood with bowed head and folded arms, reflect-
ing, Uncle Jack returned to the room where Eina
and Clotille sat awaiting him.
“Fur yer ladies ter understan’ de feelin’s dat
I been goin’ through since yer all tole me whut
yer wanted,” began Uncle Jack, “I’ll hab ter tell
yer er leetul 'sperunce uv mine dat I had durin’
uv de war.
“One day w’en de war wuz 'bout at its wust, I
wuz goin’ through de woods wider gun an’ two
bird dogs. One uv dem dogs wuz name Abe Link-
tum an’ de udder Jeff Davis. One uv 'um wuz
fatten t’other an I had ter be on my p’s an’ q’s
ter keep outen trouble. Yer see bofe Yankees an’
'federates wuz er roun’ our country. W'en er’fed-
erate come up ter me an axt me de name uv de
dogs, I allus pinted ter de fat dog an’ say his
name wuz Jeff Davis, an’ ter de pore one an’ say
his name wuz Abe Linktum. W’en I would meet


CHAPTER XX.
FUNERAL OF A LIVE MAN.
FNROM day to day Uncle Jack watched the
movement of the sun as to its setting, noted
* the shortening of the days, the browning of
the leaves upon the trees, and finally their falling
to the earth.
“Wal, de persimmons is erbout right now an’ de
possums am fat, an I s'pose its erbout time ter
go.”
Securing some one to fill his place for a short
while, Uncle Jack now took his departure, omit-
ting to state to any one where he was going or
for what purpose.
A short distance from the side of the roadway
bisecting Nelson County into eastern and west-
ern halves, sitting at the end of an archway sev-
eral hundred feet long, which archway was made
by two rows of well developed cedar trees, sat a
Somewhat large country farm-house. Uncle Jack
with some difficulty opened the large farm gate.
“Times shuah doos change,” said he, regaining
his breath after his effort. “How well do I’mem-
ber how I uster fling dat gate open w’en I wuz
er lad.”
The old man looked wistfully down the tree
made lane towards the house as he journeyed in
that direction. His mind was on the spirits of


148 POINTING THE WAY.
slave, came in, and was no less delighted than the
others at the presence of Uncle Jack.
“Wal, yer all wants ter know what I'se heah
fur, don’t yer?” said Uncle Jack.
“Yer orter be heah ter lib tell yer die, Jack,”
said Aunt Melissa.
“Wal, I’se come ter be er man uw some 'portance
in my ole days. I’m tole by some whut knows dat
dare is er place cut out in der hist’ries fur me
an' I mus' look atter dat putty soon. But I'se
heah now ter hab er good ole time in ev'ry way,
an den ter hab my funeril preached.”
“Your funeral preached?” asked Horace, Aunt
Melissa’s Son.
“Yes, dat is whut I wants. I wants ter haber
good ole-fashion shout at de meetin’ house; I
wants er fust-class possum dinnah atter er all
night hunt fur de possum, an’ den, at er time w'en
I kin hab all uv my frien’s, white an’ cullud, dat
knowed me in de ole times, I wants my funeril
preached.”
At first it was thought that Uncle Jack was jest-
ing, but it was finally seen that he was in earnest,
and plans were set on foot to humor him in all his
requests. The Crutcher boys were glad to lead
him out one moonlight night in quest of the pos-
sums, and they and Uncle Jack were a delighted
set when at daybreak next morning they returned
with the coveted animals. Aunt Melissa Crutcher
had stepped aside some years since for her daugh-
ter-in-law as a cook, but in this instance she bade


FUNERAL OF A LIVE MAN. 149
her step aside and herself cooked the possum for
Uncle Jack.
Sunday came, the church members were out
in force and engaged in covenant meeting, the
telling on the part of each of his christian expe-
rience and determination. Religious fervor ran
high, the old plantation melodies were sung with
zest, and a high degree of emotion was generated.
Uncle Jack wept and laughed by turns from sheer
joy, frequently exclaiming, “My soul is habin’
er feast uv good things.”
The funeral was duly announced, and on the
appointed day the people, white and colored,
dropped their tasks and met at the Negro church,
where both the white and Negro pastors delivered
eulogies concerning the white-haired Uncle Jack,
who sat with bowed head in a corner of a front
Seat.
When the funeral was over and his life had been
duly set forth to the hearers, the entire audience
passed around and shook Uncle Jack by the hand.
When Uncle Jack had returned to Aunt Me-
lissa’s from the church, she said:
“Now, Jack Morris, yer air 'bout ter go back
ter Belrose, an I wouldn’t lakter die thinkin’ dat
Jack had turnt ter er fool. Now 'splain ter me
dese goin’ ons dat yer's been havin’ out heah.”
“Wal, Aunt Merlissa, ef you will sen’ de chillun
out I will 'splain things ter yer.”
Aunt Melissa did as suggested, and Uncle Jack
drew near so that he would not have to talk very
loudly.


150 POINTING THE WAY.
“Yer see, Aunt Merlissa, my way and yer way
uv managin' wid de white folks wuz to act kin’ an’
make out wid de bes’ dat dey seed fit ter do. I
hez fell in wid some youngsters in Belrose dat
wants things ter move 'cordin’ ter some principull,
an’ not jes ez er notion stracks de white people.
Dey says dat de white people hez done gone an’
disfrankshied ill-littered cullud folks 'thout dis-
frankshieng ill-littered white folks. Dese cullud
young uns says dat ain’t right. Dey says dat ill-
littered white folks an ill-littered cullud folks
ought ter hab one law 'cordin’ ter de constertu-
tion.
“Now I’se been picked out ez de cullud man ter
tes’ dat law. 'Fore I’gin my life uv buckin’ ergin
er law uv de white folks I jes’ wanted ter close up
de life I had been livin', squar’ an’ even. Ef I had
waited till I bucked de law de white folks mout not
'uve been willin’ ter say all dis dey done said
ovah me ter day.
“Yer see, dey ain’t lak us. W’en massa rode
erway ter de war an’ fit ter keep me in slav’ry
I didun’t make it er pussonul mattah. I didun’t
lak whut he did, but I kep’ on lakin’ him jes' de
same. I hopes de white folks won’t git mad at me
fur tryin’ ter git er ekal show in life fur a cullud
an’ er white boy. But ef dey doos git mad, dey
done 'spressed deyself 'bout my charackter.”


152 , POINTING THE WAY.
E=-
Miss Letitia tried to arouse Clotille's fears of
losing Baug that she might bestir herself to hold
his affections, but Clotille was only too happy that
Eina had him in tow and was hauling him out
of her way; as for the rest of her problem she
was now convinced that with Belrose all right,
with the permanence of the Belrose movement as-
sured, with unequal disfranchisement destined
to be upset, her cousin could be handled. So,
that which was bringing worry to Miss Letitia
was bringing happiness to Clotille.
Unable to arouse Clotille to action in her own
behalf, Miss Letitia decided to take up the cudgel
herself and drive Eina from the field. At a time
when Clotille was away from home she opened her
letter box and purloined what she regarded as
ample ammunition with which to attack Fina.
Mounting her bicycle, Miss Letitia rode out to
where she had learned that Eina lived. As soon
as she had taken a seat in Eina's parlor she
plunged into the object of her visit.
“You and my Clotille are fast friends, I be-
lieve?” said Miss Letitia.
“We surely are,” said Eina, her face aglow with
the thought of the mutual love between herself and
Clotille.
“Yes, I think you are. I know that, being a
friend, you would not have her live and die a
pauper,” said Miss Letitia.
“Of course not. I would do all in my power to
see Clotille's life full of comfort,” said Eina.


154 POINTING THE WAY.
“Well, Clotille was always backwards about her
rights; but I am telling you.”
“Conroe?”
“I’ll see her in her grave before I’ll let her
marry that fellow,” said Miss Letitia.
“Does she love Baug?” asked Eina.
“They love each other,” said Miss Letitia.
Eina now rallied and said: “Miss Gilbreath,
Clotille is my friend, my only, my dearest friend.
If she had loved Baug Peppers she would have let
me know. You are in error, somehow. Clotille
would not; Clotille, Clotille could not play me
false.”
Miss Letitia now unfolded a little package
which she had kept in her hand, saying, “You
know Clotille’s handwriting. Read this letter, will
you? Notice the date, too, won’t you?”
Eina took the letter into her trembling hands
and saw at once that it was unmistakably written
in Clotille's hand.
It was addressed to “My own dear Baug,”
breathed throughout the most fervent love, and
was evidently written in response to a letter of
the same tenor that Clotille had received. There
at the close of the letter were penned these sig-
nificant words:
“Though our ambitions may cause us to not be
seen in each other’s company, you know me and
I know you. You are my Baug and I know noth-
ing in all the world other than to subscribe myself
here and hereafter, your CLOTILLE.”


THE BREAK. 155
Eina’s mind now flashed back to Baug's stand-
ing on Broadway and Seventh Avenue the day of
her arrival, to Clotille's significant laugh. It all
now looked to her to be a black, black conspiracy
to foster some Secret ambition that Baug and Clo-
tille cherished, for the attainment of which she
had apparently been made a tool.
“Brood of vipers, I drive you from my heart,”
said Eina.
“Woman, please leave my house. Never fear
that I shall stand between Clotille and that man.
Please go,” cried Eina.
Miss Letitia arose to leave, and on departing,
glanced a last time into Eina’s face. Never in all
her life had she seen such a picture of woe as she
now left behind her, but it moved her not.
Eina collapsed the moment Miss Letitia left,
and for a long while lay prone on the floor.
At length she crawled to her desk and penned the
following note to Baug:
“Baug Peppers: The engagement for this even-
ing is off. Please do not ever again call at my
house. EINA RAPONA.”
Having dispatched this note, Eina, in an aim-
less manner, wandered from room to room in her
cottage, alternately wringing her hands and hold-
ing them to her throbbing temples.
“Is life worth living?”
Such was the question that the sad, torn heart
of Eina now asked over and over again.
“I was young and wealthy and the world called
me beautiful.”


156 PoINTING THE way.
“I lived in Boston and no door was closed in my
face. I met a colored girl, and the colored blood
in me called out unto her, and we became friends.”
*k *k sk sk
“For her sake I left my home, came to the land
of the great shadow, the land of the great shadow,
the land of the great shadow, and cast my lot
With her.”
*k sk sk sk
“Her burdens were my burdens, and I threw
my Soul into the work of clearing the pathway
of life for her. She deliberately interests me in
a man with whom she was herself in love, while
pretending to love another.”
•k :k *k sk
“She puts near me a trusted servant who would
be sure to bring this man into my life. I can see
it all now, all! I meet him, I work with him,
I—I—I—well, here I am, a broken-hearted girl.
Faith—in—humanity gone, gone; all gone.”
*k sk sk sk
“What is there in life when the heart is bleak?
Money I have, but what is that as a solace to the
spirit?”
sk sk >k sk
“The world is large, but what of it if your
heart is chained to the one spot?”
* * sk *
“I am young yet, but more is the pity, for the
longer will I have this load to carry. Oh life,


CHAPTER XXII.
LIGHT COMES.
W.J. HEN Baug Peppers received that little note,
pellmell to a livery stable, called for and
hired the fastest horse therein, and went dashing
toward Eina's home as fast as the fleet animal
could carry him. When, at the end of what had
seemed to be an age, he came to Eina’s house, he
found the blinds closed, the doors barred and no
one to respond to his repeated knockings.
Finding all efforts to get in touch with Eina
futile, Baug rushed around the house to the stable
in quest of Uncle Jack.
He read the note to Uncle Jack and asked him
what on earth could possibly be the trouble.
“Wal, I been 'spectin jes’ dis,” said Uncle Jack,
deliberately.
“Expecting it?” roared Baug.
“Expecting Miss Rapona to deny me the privi-
lege of seeing her? Why, her request is just about
as reasonable as though she asked me not to
breathel And you have been expecting it?”
Stormed Baug.
“Be ca'm, Baug; be ca’m an' heah me. Be ca'm!
Be Ca’m l’”
“Uncle, if you are going to talk, please talk in
keeping with the fitness of things. Don’t, don’t


E. : : - ---
LIGHT COMES. 159
say be ca'm. There is a far more appropriate be
that could be said by a less devout man that would
better fit this occasion—no, no, that thought is
wicked, and I need heaven's help right now,” said
Baug.
“Yer see, Baug, de lady keers fur yer.”
“Uncle Jack, dear Uncle Jack, I love you, but
you lie. You say I see that the lady cares for me.
That is exactly what I don’t see.”
“Baug, lak my white folks, I doan take de lie
frum nobody, but bein’s yer is crazy, I’ll take it ter
day. Yer 'minds me uv–”
“Uncle Jack, I’ll murder you on the spot—no,
I love you too much for that, but I will say I will
never forgive you if you try to joke me now,”
said Baug, tramping around impatiently, his eye
roving about the doors and windows of Eina’s
home, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
“Yer see, Baug, de lady hez come ter de conclu-
Sion dat she mus’ know mo’’bout yer 'fo’ proceed-
in’ furder wid yer. W’en er’oman takes dat co’se
she's gittin’ mighty deep in love. Things air putty
bright fur yer, old boy, putty bright.”
“If things are bright now, I hope to heaven to
never, never see them dark,” said Baug.
“Yer see, findin’ dat she laks yer, she mus' now
wait ’till she kin git yer pedigrees, kin fin’ out
whar yer sprung frum,” said Uncle Jack.
“Oh, my stars! Then I am gone! Who on earth
knows where I came from? That has been the
one shadow on my soul. I can’t blame the girl
------"--


LIGHT COMES. 161
talented and cultured, and in sight and in reach
of a great fortune whenever she fulfills the con-
ditions.”
“Oh, Cousin Letitia, that is horrid, horrid!
Pray what on earth is the matter?” said Clotille.
“No, I am going to speak my mind to-day. The
reason things came so near going wrong was
because I kept my mouth closed so long. Young
people need to be guided. You two would not
have been together so long and lovingly to-day if
I had not knocked the other one off of the track.
I did not want to do it, but she had no right to
come between you two and upset all our plans.”
A faint glimmer of the true state of affairs
dawned upon Clotille and Baug, and they both
stood up looking eagerly to Miss Letitia for more
light.
“Now that looks nice. You all will make a nice
couple, a light one and a dark one. Now let the
other lady get a dark One,” said Miss Letitia.
“To—I’ll cut any dark one's throat—I don’t
understand,” said Baug.
“I have just told her that you and Clotille were
picked out for each other a long time ago.”
“Mercy! Mercy!” screamed Clotille.
“She was hard to shake, but I shook her. I found
Some letters that Baug returned to you when you
all evidently broke up, and I showed her one of
them. That letter settled things and she will
never give you two any more trouble. You young
people must watch these designing women now
i i


162 POINTING THE WAY.
and hereafter else they will ruin you,” continued
Miss Letitia.
“Oh, woman, in what a perfidious light you
have placed me. Now let me tell you something.
For years I have loved a dark man, Conroe Dris-
coll. Because you have fought with such bitter-
ness my marrying a dark man, he has used
Baug's name in his correspondence so that a dis-
covery of his letters on your part would not give
us trouble. When Conroe grew somewhat hope-
less and didn’t care whether he lived or died on
the football field, he returned to me my letters to
him that they might not fall into other hands in
case of his death. It was evidently a letter of
mine to Conroe which you found and used.”


~ * -
CHAPTER XXIII.
QUITE UNEXPECTED.
|EY: AUG stood listening to what Clotille and
* Miss Letitia had to say long enough to catch
a clear idea of what caused his trouble, and
then, with all the speed at his command, has-
tened to his buggy and was soon at Eina’s home
again, but his success at getting a hearing was no
better this time than on his previous visit, and he
drove back dejectedly to Clotille, who was still
weeping bitterly over the false light in which her
cousin had put her.
“Come, Baug, I will settle it all,” said Clotille,
rising and leading the way to the buggy.
“Drive me quickly to Conroe’s office.”
Baug obeyed, not knowing, however, what was
Clotille's plan.
When they arrived at the office Clotille said:
“Conroe, go at once and get a marriage license.”
Conroe hesitated an instant and looked into
Baug's face for an explanation.
“Yes, for God's sake, go, and go quickly!”
Conroe not daring to hope that the sun had
come to shine in his door, took it for granted that
it was Baug who was to be thus favored of heaven.
Therefore upon arriving at the office where li-
censes were issued, he procured a license for Baug
Peppers and Eina Rapona. He returned to his


QUITE UNEXPECTED. 165
Eina's gate. Clotille rushed to the house, leaving
the others behind, hoping to prepare the way for
them. It happened that she had retained the key
to Eina’s door that she had when in charge of the
preparations for Eina’s coming, and had been
thoughtful enough to get it before leaving home.
She opened the door and rushed in. But Eina
had gone!


CHAPTER XXIV.
BAUG SEARCHING FOR EINA.
|ONROE DRISCOLL and Baug Peppers are
in absolute disagreement as to the character
of the first night after Eina’s disappear-
ance. Happy in the possession of Clotille as his
bride, Conroe positively asserts that the world was
never more beautiful than on that night. Accord-
ing to his account, the moon was full and in jovial
mood. The clouds to vex her reign were thin and
few, and even they, in passing beneath her throne,
were tinged with glory and made resplendent in
the heavens. The milky way, like a diamond
studded bridal veil, hovered near the moon as if to
be in easy reach of this beautiful woman of the
night traveling toward some consort divine. The
stars, both great and Small, twinkled their mer-
riest as if in an effort to keep pace with their
happy queen. Now this is Conroe's version of
that night, set forth according to the emotions that
Surged within him as he stood out in the open and
thanked the far off eternal forces which, despite
all obstacles, had swept Clotille into his arms.
As for Baug, he vehemently asserts that the
light of the moon was wearisome to the soul;
that the winking and blinking stars were but so
many tiny mockers of his grief; that all of nature’s
antics on that night were out of keeping with the


BAUG SEARCHING FOR EINA. 167
--------"--
eternal fitness of things save where the dark
shadows and sullen corners were to be found,
where the light of the moon and stars came not.
It is perhaps the discontented man of the world
that bears watching, so we shall for the time
being excuse ourselves from the company of the
happy Conroe and follow the meanderings of the
rather desperate Baug.
Without set purpose, Baug left his gate that
night and began to , walk aimlessly through the
streets of Belrose. Passing through the heart
of the city, moving in an opposite direction to
that in which Eina had lived, Baug walked far
beyond the corporate limits, his journeyings
bringing him to the Ambrose River, leisurely
flowing along, fresh from lapping the shores of
Belrose.
Upon the bridge spanning the river, Baug looked
down upon the sombre face of the waters, then
toward the gloom-steeped trees lining the banks
of the stream, then toward the hills that rose in
the distance and seemed to bank themselves
against the sky. Returning his gaze to the wa-
ters, Baug said:
“Dark, wooing waters, one day your smileless
face may draw me to your bosom, but not now,
not now! I have a great battle to fight—and win.
To live, to live, and not to die, is my task.”
When, far across the river, Baug, following
the roadway, reached the crest of a high hill and
saw near the roadside a huge boulder, he paused,


BAUG SEARCHING FOR EINA. 169
sadden his heart, Eina's sunny Smile, the glory
of her eyes, the memory of the thrill of her low,
sweet tones, the noble sentiments to which from
time to time she had given voice.
As Baug sat thus meditating on his seemingly
hopeless plight, glancing down the road he saw
in the moonlight the dim outline of a human
form. It proved to be that of the ever-faithful
Uncle Jack, who, knowing the intensity of Baug's
attachment for Eina, had felt that it was at least
well to keep in touch with him.
From the moment that he had caught sight of
the look of desperation that overspread Baug's
face when he had intimated to him Eina's deter-
mination to withdraw from the Negro race, Uncle
Jack had been on Baug's trail, managing, how-
ever, to keep at such a distance as to be unob-
served. During the time that he had been follow-
ing Baug, Uncle Jack had been canvassing in his.
mind a matter of deep moment. He knew that
the ruling desire of Baug's heart now was to find
Eina, and he felt able to indicate the manner in
which this might be done, but the carrying out of
his plan might jeopardize his own life. In view
of this possible danger he had thought long and
deeply.
Having at last reached a conclusion, Uncle Jack
emerged from the shadow of the trees by the road-
side where he had stopped to rest and keep watch
on Baug. As he drew near, Baug, whose soul
just now craved solitude, for the first time


170 POINTING THE WAY.
in life was not glad to see him. Many a time had
Baug in days gone by sought Uncle Jack in order
that he might dispel feelings of gloom by drawing
on his rich store of humorous experiences, but at
this time he felt more like listening to a funeral
discourse than to a joke. Uncle Jack, however,
very soon turned Baug's distaste at his presence
into unbounded joy.
In a tone that Smacked of impatience, Baug
said: “Uncle Jack, what on earth has brought
you way out here at such a time as this. A man
of your years should take better care of himself.”
Uncle Jack, knowing Baug's frame of mind,
elected to ignore the tone of irritation, and said in
an humble manner:
“Baug, Miss Eina is done gone, ez yer knows,
an’ I wants ter fin” her. 'Cordin’ ter whut I
learns she lef" under er misunderstandin’.”
“Yes, a very, very gross one, Uncle Jack. The
idea of her supposing that Clotille was in love with
nue and I with Clotille!”
“Now, I wants ter fin' Miss Eina an’ git all dis
cleared up.”
“Of course everybody wants to find her, Uncle
Jack. But how in the name of common Sense is
that to be dome is the question?”
“Now dat is whut I wants ter talk wid yer
erbout. I got er plan dat will shuah bring her ter
whar yer kin 'splain matters ter her.”
Baug leaped down from his boulder, slapped
Uncle Jack upon the shoulder and said: “Uncle


172 POINTING THE WAY.
wuz ter be kep’ out uv de plannin’ So dat yer
woulden’t be 'rested for cunspeericy, fur she
wanted yer fur de lawyer.”
“Oh, bosh, Uncle Jack! I thought you had a
plan for finding Miss Eina?”
“Jes’ hole yer hosses, Mistah Baug; jes’ hole yer
hosses, an’ doan be so ready ter fly off,” said
Uncle Jack, reassuringly.
“Miss Eina kinder thort yer wuz er great man
an’ she wanted ter heah yer argify dat case in de
S'preme Coat. She said dat ef dat case wuz evah
called up dare she would be dare ef she lived.
She said dat ef she wuz dead an’ dare wuz enny
such thing ez er dead pusson visitin' 'bout, she
would shuah be dare. Now, Baug, Uncle Jack
knows folks—white folks, cullud folks an’ de
mixed folks. Uncle Jack knows 'um. I tell yer
shuah ez yer is bawn, ef yer git er case in de
S’preme Coat to tes’ dem disfrankshieing laws,
Miss Eina will be on han’ ter hear yer argify.
Baug, I tell yer I knows.”
“Now, Uncle Jack,” said Baug, enthusiastically,
“you go ahead with that test case, you hear. Do
everything just as you were told by Miss Eina.
Keep me way out of the thing, if telling me will
keep me from being the attorney. Do you hear,
Uncle Jack?”
With this line of procedure agreed upon, the
two men sat throughout the night chatting, Baug
listening with hungry ears to little scraps of re-
marks that Eina had from time to time let fall


BAUG SEARCHING FOR EINA. 173
in Uncle Jack's presence, remarks indicating that
she took more than a passing interest in him.
More than once Uncle Jack was in imminent dan-
ger of being hugged by Baug over some remark
of Eina’s that he reported.
By and by the moon went down, the east took
on its golden flush and the hazy light of morning
appeared. Vehicles began to pass, and when one
came along that afforded an opportunity for a
ride, Baug accosted the driver, who readily con-
sented to convey him and Uncle Jack to Belrose.


CHAPTER XXV.
CLEAR SAILING.
W.J. HILE Baug was fully resolved upon carrying
fore him there was the possibility of ill
effects that he desired if possible to avoid. He
realized fully that the good will of his Southern
white neighbors was a consideration second only
in importance to having it agreed that the race
with which he was identified was to be dealt with
according to the fundamental principle of the
government, equality before the law. He had
inaugurated in Belrose the harmonious working
together of the white and colored people in local
political matters, and he would have regretted
much anything that rendered him personally un-
acceptable as an ambassador of peace.
Of course he had all along been deeply con-
cerned about the fundamental rights of his peo-
ple, was anxious to have the point that had so
greatly interested Eina settled, but he had hither-
to hoped that that possibly irritating duty might
fall to some other hands; had hoped this, not out
of cowardice, but from a desire to reserve himself
for a task of equal importance, that of friendly
adjustment.
Moreover Baug felt that an attempt on his part
to overthrow even by peaceable means what he


CLEAR SAILING. 175
deemed the unequal suffrage system might jeop-
ardize his life. As he desired above all things
just now to live to see Eina again he thought it
wise to sound Molair that he might indirectly
gain an idea as to whether it was best to prose-
cute his work in this direction from some point in
the North or from Belrose.
Calling upon Mr. Molair at his home after busi-
ness hours were over, Baug was ushered into his
library. When Molair entered he greeted Baug
with a smile and a warm clasp of the hand.
Beginning the conversation, Baug said:
“Mr. Molair, I regard you as typical of the best
that Southern white civilization has produced, and
through you I want to-day to hear the voice of the
best South.”
“I thank you for your compliment, but I dare
not claim to be the best of the South, which, South-
erner-like, I put ahead of the world. You see
the heights are too dizzy,” replied Molair.
Passing by Molair's parrying of his compliment,
Baug said: “I am more than anxious that the
political war along racial lines between your and
my people should come to a close, and would re-
gret the necessity of any step that would put us
more at variance. But the vital needs of the col-
ored people, with which needs my own personal
fortunes have become inextricably involved, de-
mand that I make an effect to have our Supreme
Court upset such laws as do not bear equally upon
the people of both races. In the event that I pur-


176 POINTING THE WAY.
sue this course what do you think would be the
attitude of the Southern white people of your
type?”
Molair smiled and cast his eyes around the
walls of the library. Arising, he went to the end
of a row of oil paintings of persons, and said to
Baug: “Come and look.” He lead Baug from
painting to painting in that room, then escorted
him to other rooms where there were paintings.
When the tour of inspection was over, he said:
“You have just seen the likenesses of Molairs for
centuries back. So far as I am concerned, if with
a thousand years of civilization back of him a Mo-
lair cannot hold his own in an equal contest with
the grandson of an uncivilized African, I say let
him go to the wall. I scorn the idea of a weak test
for a white man and a severe one for the Negro.
It is a rank injustice to the white man. When you
remember that mother nature coddled, made life
easy for Africa, but was stern and penurious with
England, you can see the danger that will come to
the Southern white man if we indulge him while
making exactions of the Negro.
“The sooner the standard of voting for the
white man is made as high as that for the colored
man, the better for the white man. Indulgence
leads to decay, not to advancement,” said Molair,
his whole attitude signifying abhorrence of the
notion of coddling any section of the white race.
“I am glad to hear you speak thus, Mr. Molair.
In the event that my course is questioned, I trust


CLEAR SAILING. 177
that you will give voice to such sentiments as you
have just expressed.”
The interview now came to a close, and Baug
took his departure with a much lighter heart.
With great zest he entered upon the task of
raising the funds necessary to fight through the
test case to be inaugurated by Uncle Jack accord-
ing to secret plans laid out by Eina.
Baug withheld action on Uncle Jack's part look-
ing toward the testing of the law in question until
such a time as he should feel able to take care of
the financial end of the matter.
Ah, that was a dreary, dreary wait! And while
Baug in thus waiting, and chafing while he waits,
let us take advantage of the opportunity to catch
a glimpse of other friends of ours.


CHAPTER XXVI.
DESIRES HER WILL CHANGED.
; F the marriage of Clotille and Conroe could
have been postponed until Baug was dis-
posed of, and until the conception had been
fully developed in Miss Letitia’s mind that the
harmonious relations between the races in Belrose
were to continue, it might have been that the wed-
ding would not have so excited the wrath of Miss
Letitia; but as it was, her rage was boundless.
When on the day following her marriage, Clotille
returned to her cousin's home for the purpose of
pleading her cause, Miss Letitia slammed the door
in her face. As for Conroe, she despised him ut-
terly.
“The black varmint! I feel like wringing his
old head off. The idea of him poking his old black
face into our family!” Such was the comment
Miss Letitia passed upon Conroe. -
Having felt assured that Clotille would marry
in a manner to please her, Miss Letitia had drawn
up her will, leaving her fortune to her, but she
now resolved upon changing all this, and pro-
ceeded at once to Seth Molair's office for the pur-
pose of having him draw up another will.
“Well, what has the former beneficiary done
to displease you, if I am not asking too much?”
inquired Molair in an effort to draw Miss Letitia


DESIRES HER WILL CHANGED. 179
out, not being altogether pleased with that fanat-
ical look in her eye.
“She has turned out to be a fool,” snapped out
the angry Miss Letitia.
“Gone mad?” asked Molair, in surprise.
“Worse than that.”
“Oh,” said Molair, afraid to pursue the sub-
ject any further, as it seemed to involve some
moral turpitude.
“Yes, I would have rather seen her in her grave
a thousand times than for her to have turned out
like she did,” said Miss Letitia.
“Too bad; too bad. But you can console your-
self with the fact that you set her a good example
and taught her the right way.”
“I haven’t set her any example at all. I am a
miss. But I taught her the right way all right, the
crazy thing.”
“Oh, she is really crazy, then?” remarked Mo-
lair.
“Crazy? Of course she is crazy, as crazy as any
lunatic in the asylum.”
“Well, we ought to have her put up, then,” said
Molair.
“I wish you could send her to the penitentiary
and hang the black ape.”
Molair was considerably puzzled as to just what
the nature of the case was, and he was disposed to
drop the discussion, but Miss Letitia never tired
of letting people know just what she thought of
the matter.


DESIRES HER WILL CHANGED. 181
of the scalp of a dying person? Don’t we bury
corpses? Sure, I’ll disinherit that girl for marry-
ing so as to perpetuate the black face, the seed
of discord. I’ll cut her off without a copper and
wish that I could will for her to beg bread from
door to door, so help me Moses.”
Molair reflected awhile and then said: “Now,
I am a Southern white man, and believe in the
preservation of both races. I do not care, even
in a professional way, to be connected with your
notion of the absorption of the blood of your race
into ours.”
“Aha! Aha!” said Miss Letitia, rising, “you
disfranchise, you ostracize, you jim crow, you
lynch, you burn a man because he is colored,
then hold up your hands in holy horror because
he seeks, by honorable means, to get away from
being colored. If you want a man to stay colored,
why in the name of God don’t you treat him right
as colored? That fool Clotille has gone back on
me, but don’t you forget the leaven is at work, and
if you don’t treat the colored people right in every
way, in the ages to come, you are not going to have
any colored people.”
Drawing near to Molair, Miss Letitia pointed
her finger at him and said: “You tell the Negro-
hater among the whites to keep on building the
fires of prejudice, keep on jim crowing Negroes,
keep on disfranchising, keep on painting the
sky as black as midnight! Aha, keep on! Mil-
lions have crossed into your race already and


182 POINTING THE WAY.
millions are to follow, yes millions are to follow.
Put that in your pipe, great sir, and smoke it!
We will all be white one day, and it won’t be by
intermarriage, either.”
With her head thrown high in the air, Miss
Gilbreath swept majestically out of Molair's office.
When Miss Letitia had gone, Molair sat with
knitted brow toying with his pencil, giving earn-
est thought to the situation presented by her at-
titude.
“Indirect amalgamation is this woman’s game,
I see. But I want no amalgamation, direct or in-
direct, immediate or remote. I want no incorpor-
ation of the Negro blood into our race even after
that blood has been so diluted as to lose its power
of pigmentation. I don’t want Negro blood in
the blood of our race even though it be in the pro-
portion to the waters of Lake Erie to those of
the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans combined.” Such
were Molair's thoughts as he contemplated Miss
Letitia’s course.
“Now what am I to do to balk this game? We
toss all mulattoes to the Negroes. We cannot
pass a law forbidding them to intermarry with
the Negroes and forcing them to intermarry
among themselves. And if we did force them to
intermarry among themselves exclusively, would
we not soon have a large white race of them ready
for surreptitious disappearance into our ranks?”
reflected Molair.
Reaching for his telephone Molair called up


CHAPTER XXVII.
MOLAIR AT WORK.
|T. HE more Molair reflected on the situation
# of Conroe and Clotille, as disclosed by his
interview with Miss Letitia, the more he
found his sympathies going out to them.
“Here,” said Molair to himself, “is a test of my
sincerity on this matter of preserving racial integ-
rity. I must see to it that this couple does not lose
by the course they have pursued and this woman
must be converted, just must be. How can we
hope to deal with this great question in the large
if we can’t handle it in Small bits?”
Molair now entered upon a close study of Miss
Letitia, not hesitating to call upon her and to
engage her in close conversation, searching for
the mainspring of the benumbing pessimism that
held her within its grasp. Discovering incidentally
what a great admiration Miss Letitia had for fire
fighters, it occurred to Molair that it might be
possible to have Conroe ingratiate himself into her
good graces through service in this department.
The man at the head of the colored fire com-
pany, having had no previous experience in deal-
ing with men as subordinates, was not giving en-
tire satisfaction, and Mayor Molair, anxious that
this initial experiment should prove to be eminent-
ly successful, had been casting about for a more
competent man for a captain. Inquiry concerning


186 POINTING THE WAY.
ing evidence that a brighter day was ahead, Mo-
lair decided to branch out in every needful di-
rection where he had cause to think that he
would effect a result that would serve as oil on
the hinges of the door of hope. The one thing
in the South that had caused Molair's heart to
quake with fear because of the ocean of possi-
bilities bound up in it, was the “bad Negro” ele-
ment with its power to summon from their sleep
long discarded savage instincts. Molair therefore
now gave thought to this “bad Negro” question.
Thus one morning as the ministers of the col-
ored churches of Belrose were in the midst of
their weekly meeting in one of their church edi-
fices, Molair unexpectedly put in his appearance.
As white men now very rarely attended Negro
meetings the coming of Molair was a genuine
surprise.
As an act of courtesy to the Mayor, the sus-
pension of the regular order was moved that the
body might hear whatever the Mayor might have
to say.
Molair went forward and said: “Members of
the Conference, a matter of deep concern brings
me to you this morning.” On the faces of all
there came the most intent expression as a result
Of this remark.
“What On earth can it be now?” was the
thought of the colored men who, like the whites,
were ever on the alert, always apprehensive as to
what was to come next.


188 POINTING THE WAY.
impartial enforcement of the law and the encour-
agement of all elements of our population to look
upward and not downward. So now you good
Negro Belrosans need not regard yourselves as
having any personal problems because of your
race, so far as I can remedy matters.” (Pro-
longed applause.)
“Now, I have a favor to ask of you. You are
going to find, I think, that the aspiring Negro
will have much less of a problem concerning him-
self, so far as we whites are concerned. In this
coming new day of hopefulness, nay, even before
it is full upon you, can we not have you turn your
thoughts, not away from your rights, but more
toward these congested centers of vice, popu-
lated by your people? They breed disease,
hold down real estate values, mar the beauty of
our city, and they do you inestimable damage in
the eyes of Northern visitors who are daily in
Our midst.” -
This last remark went home with great force.
The maintaining of the respect and sympathy of
the North, the author of freedom and enfran-
chisement, was a matter of deep concern to the
Negroes, as Molair knew, and he had in him
enough of the politician to pull on that chord
for what he deemed a worthy purpose.
Continuing Mr. Molair said: “Is this not pe-
culiarly your problem? Ties of blood link you
to these denizens of an earthly hell. We may
build a glorious structure here in Belrose, but


MOLAIR AT WORK. 189
from these depths can come the volcanic fires of
evil in ferment that will Overturn all that we
create.”
As a result of Molair's talk a meeting was ar-
ranged between the white and colored ministers
and plans inaugurated for a vigorous crusade for
the redemption of the centers of vice. Hopeful
of the mitigation of this menace to the peace of
both races, that in an evil moment might summon
base passions that would overturn the work of ten
thousand self-sacrificing lives, Molair now turned
his thoughts in another direction.


CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE NORTH AND THE SOUTH.
ITE! ECOGNIZING the fact that the outside
| world, whether the South so willed or not,
could by needlessly stirring up resentments
within its borders, materially affect that whole-
some atmosphere which he was now desirous of
creating, Molair decided to accept an urgent invi-
tation to a private interview which had been ex-
tended to him a short while back by the President
of the United States, who had heard of the Belrose
movement. With a view, therefore, to enlisting
the President's co-operation in a policy that would
aid him much in his work of atmosphere making,
Molair took his journey to Washington and the
White House.
“Mr. Molair, you have no idea of the profound
satisfaction that we of the North have that a
man of your type has caught hold of the out-
stretched hand of the better element of colored
people,” said the President, grasping Molair's
hand warmly.
“Thank you, Mr. President,” said Molair sim-
ply, preferring to have the President declare him-
self fully before having much to say himself.
“Now, I think that you people of the South
have misunderstood me greatly as to my attitude
toward the colored race, and I would like to lay
bare my heart to you,” said the President.


THE NORTH AND THE SOUTH. 191
“I trust that you will, Mr. President. There
should be the utmost candor in this matter.”
“Well, to begin with, the great bulk of the col-
ored people voted for me, their taxes help to pay
my salary, and as Commander-in-Chief of the
army and navy I bear a direct relation to their
patriotism which is a part of our reliance for the
defense of the flag.”
“All very true,” said Molair.
“I am a proud man, permit me to say, to this
extent—I do not wish any man or set of men
to do any more for me than I do for them. I do
not like being, even to an infinitesimal extent, a
pauper, living off of the unrequited bounty of
others. As President, as the head of the na-
tion, therefore, I have simply tried to give official
recognition to this element of our population,”
said the President.
Continuing the President said: “I am no spe-
cial friend of the Negroes, and if the necessity
ever arises I will show you that I am not. I do
not believe that the colored people should have spe-
cial favors because they are colored, nor on the
other hand, should they have special burdens be-
cause of their color.
“America is a great Darwinian field, dedicated
by fate to the cause of genuine democracy, the
rule of the united judgment of men. Here we
are to have the wild, grand play of universally and
absolutely unfettered forces, and out of the stren-
uous struggling the fittest are to survive, and the


192 POINTING THE WAY.
final man is to be evolved. I believe simply in
giving the colored man the same chance in this
great Darwinian field that other men are given,
no more, no less. Now what have you to say to
that?”
“Absolutely nothing, Mr. President,” said Mo-
lair. “So far as I am concerned I ask nothing for
me and mine that I begrudge to the colored man.
What I have come to ask of you is along another
line. Your party, I fear, has sometimes been
a little insincere in Some of its utterances, has
made declarations for political effect, simply.
Hereafter confine your party utterances to just
such things as you really mean to do. For heav-
en's sake don’t make our race question a political
football. The issues are too grave.
“Inflame the masses of the South by meaning-
less baits to the Negro voter if you choose, but
remember that this course vitally affects the wel-
fare of the race concerning which interest is pro-
fessed. For out of this inflamed mass we have to
draw policemen, constables, sheriffs, legislators
and juries. If we of the South can just get rid of
that part of the entanglement which is only po-
litical by-play, the insincere part of the pro-
gramme, not much trouble will be caused by what
your earnest, high-minded men and women have
to advise.”
In great detail Molair now went into the South-
ern situation and cited move after move, the insin-
cerity of which was subsequently demonstrated,


THE NORTH AND THE SOUTH. 193
-------------"
but which was in the public eye long enough to
do great harm to the South and the Negro.
The showing made a marked impression on the
President, who now said:
“I regard your request, Mr. Molair, as a rea-
sonable one and I pledge you my support in try-
ing to have my party deal sacredly with this ques-
tion; say nothing but what it means. Now,
Mr. Molair, will you agree to do as much in
the South? In cases where there has been abso-
lutely no cause to fear the Negro a hue and cry
of Negro domination has often been raised by
men in your section. Cannot both sections rise
to the plane where we will not make a football
out of this helpless, unarmed race, Mr. Molair?”
“Yes, yes, I will do all that I can,” responded
Molair, aware of the great task before him.
The interview now came to a close and as Molair
left the White House he said to himself, “When
political by-play is eliminated North and South
much that produces pessimistic Letitia Gilbreaths
will then disappear. With the President work-
ing to that end in the North and the house of
Molair committed to that policy in the South, who
will say that we shall not win?”


196 POINTING THE WAY.
groes of keeping them poor by working for noth-
ing. This element of whites has been emanci-
pated by the freer conditions of labor that came
after the war, is fast finding itself and is march-
ing to the front to take charge of affairs. It has
discovered its power and is going to use it.”
“You have sized the situation up exactly. It
was partly because I saw the coming of this re-
gime that I fled the South, Molair. I saw that
our day was over, that the day of the common
man was on in the South. But go on,” interposed
Rogan.
“Now there came over from slavery,” resumed
Molair, “the inherited feeling of the poor white
toward the Negro, which feeling is accentuated
by the fact that the Negro is yet his industrial
rival. Here then is a veritable gold mine for the
demagogue. In return for office he tosses to this
element the Negro, hobbled, gagged or quartered
according as he thinks will most please this ele-
ment.”
“A sad, sad situation,” said Rogan.
“Now our hope is to free the South from that
man whose chief stock in trade is hatred of a weak
and despised class. We may not convert or deter
the demagogue, but we can lift our people beyond
his reach.”
“A stupendous task, a long drawn out strug-
gle,” said Rogan.
“That is true, very true. The fact that in the
South we have a double school system adds to the


MOLAIR AND AN OLD FRIEND. 197
size of the problem of education. I have come to
ask you, Herbert, to devote some of your millions
to the education of our neglected white popula-
tion.”
Without indicating whether Molair's request
met with favor or disfavor, Rogan arose and said:
“Come with me to my office, Seth.”
On the way to the office Rogan was silent. His
mind was once more in Dixie. He was playing
by the side of the babbling brooks, gathering daff-
odils from her fields, chasing lightning bugs in
the gloaming, speeding over her country roads in
buggies seated by the side of Dixie's fair daugh-
ters, listening to the plantation melodies of the
Negroes surging from their warm, emotional
hearts. Turning his head from Molair he dashed
aWay a tear.
When the men entered the office, Rogan opened
his safe, took out his books, and recounted his
holdings to Molair, demonstrating to him that he
was far wealthier than what the outside world
estimated.
Finally Rogan said: “Now, there is my fortune,
Molair. I say to you in all sincerity that I stand
ready as far as is within my power to respond to
any call that you may make. Our poor, strug-
gling section, with the most complicated problem
of all of human history must have culture, must
have culture.”
Molair was deeply touched by the confidence
in his consideration and judgment shown by the


MOLAIR AND AN OLD FRIEND. 199
fact. Now the Negro is naturally a home lover,
a patriot. If you can honorably do so, make
terms with him in the South and word will come
northward that will break up this solid mass of
hostility to the South,” said Rogan.
“Yes, yes, another serious complication, but in
Belrose we have learned to get together and be-
fore many years you may expect to find the col-
ored people working enthusiastically for a South-
ern man for President,” said Molair.
Now that political and philanthropic forces gave
promise of turning their faces in the right direc-
tion so far as the South was concerned, Molair re-
turned to Belrose feeling assured that the outlook
was bright for the killing of the destructive germs
to be found in minds on the Order of that of Miss
Letitia.
But as we shall now shortly see fate had a far
different way of curing Miss Letitia's pessimism.


CHAPTER XXX.
THE RUDOLF FIRE.
% NNE evening about the set of sun, the city of
| Belrose was aroused by the ringing of the
- central fire bell. The people of the city,
wherever they chanced to be, paused to count the
strokes of the gong, that they might, with the aid
of the signal, consult their charts and thus locate
the fire.
“Near Rudolf’s!” Such was the startling piece
of information that passed from lip to lip.
Rudolf’s was by all odds the finest store in the
city, and perhaps the finest in the South. As for
Mr. Rudolf himself, he was a man of genial per-
sonality, a patriotic citizen, anxious for the city’s
growth, and he possessed in a marked degree the
spirit of philanthropy. As a consequence he had
won the esteem and affection of the entire popula-
tion of Belrose, without regard to class or race.
So, when it was noised abroad that the fire was
near Rudolf's, great anxiety was created, and
there was a universal rush for the Scene of the
conflagration.
The first engine to arrive on the scene was that
of the colored company.
The building which was on fire was not Rudolf's
but the one across the alley from it.
The firemen went gallantly to work to combat
the flames, but the fire continued to make rapid


THE RUDOLF FIRE. 201
headway. Like so many great hungry tongues, the
flames leapt out of the windows of the burning
structure and seemed to knowingly lick at the Ru-
dolf building across the way.
As Conroe stood looking at the menacing, rag-
ing flames, many thoughts came surging to his
mind.
“All Belrose is out to-night, and all Belrose will
talk of what is done here. The South knows
of our fathers, knows how that in peace and war
they followed the call of duty. We can this night
demonstrate that we are the sons of our fathers,”
reflected Conroe.
“The only way to save the Rudolf is to mount
its walls and fight the flames from the roof, but
that is a great risk,” thought Conroe.
Further and further out reached the tongues of
fire, their failure to reach the Rudolf seeming
to enrage them, and each effort appeared to be
more strenuous than its predecessor.
“The Rudolf is doomed,” was the thought in
the minds of all.
“A ladder! a ladder!” shouted Conroe. A lad-
der was brought and placed beside the wall of the
Rudolf. Conroe put one foot and a hand on the
ladder, turned to his comrades and shouted: “Men,
there is danger on this wall. I will not order you
to go, but who will volunteer to follow me?”
Two men hurried to his side and, amid the
cheers of thousands, they ascended the ladder and
ranged themselves on the wall.


202 POINTING THE WAY.
Of course Miss Letitia was there, for when
had she missed a fire since there had been col-
Ored firemen?
“My, ain’t that grand I Ain’t that inspiring!
Now, ain’t that grand!” Such were the exclama-
tions arising from Miss Letitia, as, with hat
thrown back on her head, her face wearing a rapt
expression, she gazed upon the three men fighting
the flames. When gusts of smoke would engulf
the men she would stand with clenched fists, the
picture of distress, but when they again stood out
in bold relief in the glare of the flames, she would
heave a sigh of relief.
“Look out! Look out! Look out!” “Down!
Come down!”
Such were the cries that came like a mighty
roar from the throats of thousands of people who
had seen the wall of the burning building spring
and get ready for a fall. The men on the wall
of the Rudolf did not comprehend the meaning of
the shout, so kept on fighting the flames.
“Down! Come down!” the multitude continued
to shout.
Miss Letitia had seen the danger and had madly
struggled through the crowd until she reached the
ladder planted against the wall.
“Dont, woman! For God’s sake, don't!”
shouted the throng, while one man put a restrain-
ing hand upon her shoulder.
“Let me alone! I’ll not let these brave fellows
die,” said Miss Letitia, springing up the ladder
with the agility of a lad.


A FORTUNE SPURNED. 205
greatly desired it. It was largely in the hope of
softening Cousin Letitia's heart that he gave up
his profession and entered the fire department,
and now—now—poor Conroe is dead—dead—and
shall never more open his lips to cheer my heart
with a message of love.”
“Take a seat,” said Baug, leading Clotille to a
chair.
When she was more composed she said: “It
has been discovered that Cousin Letitia did not
carry out her purpose to disinherit me. An un-
finished will which she was trying to draw herself
was found by the side of the one which she had
made in my favor but was planning to alter. So
ker death has brought me her fortune.”
Clotille lifted her eyes to Baug's face and said:
“If anyone had told me two days ago that I could
despise money, I would have denied it. But to-
day I despise it! I despise it with all my heart.
Before God, I shall never touch a penny of my
cousin's money for myself. It is blood money!
It is blood money!” Clotille now broke forth into
weeping afresh, followed by a long period of
silence. At last she said:
“Come, Baug, let us look at him.”
The two now entered the room where Conroe's
body lay in a coffin ready for its journey to its
narrow home. Baug looked down upon the face
of his friend so serene in death, and murmured:
“Happy boy; free at last.”
“Baug, in this sacred presence, I want you to


206 POINTING THE WAY.
promise me that you will take one-half of this
money that will come to me and use it to help
bring to the colored man a man's chance as a
colored man. I want to see to it that no other
dark couple has the struggle that Conroe and I
had.
“I shall not use the other half, but why I re-
tain it will appear later. Will you do this for me?
It will be something of an atonement for my sin,”
said Clotille, softly, sadly, earnestly. -
Baug extended his hand across the bier to grasp
the outstretched hand of Clotille, and the two
looked into the face of Conroe, who seemed to
Smile his assent.
Baug said: “Clotille, I will do as you say
and will consecrate the fund to the lifting of the
shadow.”


A BADLY NEEDED OPENING. 209
turn, so he decided to have a hearty laugh in an
effort to cheer somewhat Baug's spirit.
“Doan be uneasy, Baug. I knows de white peo-
ple putty well, an’ knows how ter not git in too
tight er fix,” said Uncle Jack.
“I hope so, certainly, Uncle Jack. I crave to
have these laws overthrown, I crave to see Eina,
but I want dear old Uncle Jack to live, too,” said
Baug feelingly.
“Speakin’ uv tight fixes 'minds me uv er time
wunst w’en I wuz er gardenin’ fur a white fam-
bly,” began Uncle Jack, determined to have a last
laugh with Baug before they separated. “My
room wuz out in de yard an’ de cook staid in de
main house ovah de dinin’ room. Wal, hard times
kinder struck de country an’ throwed er lot er
men out uv wuk. Dis heah cook wuz er good
gal, all right, but she pinched off er leetul ter help
her beau keep frum gittin’ hungry durin’ uv de
hard times. Dis beau had er way uv creepin’ ter
dis gal’s room jes’ fo’ breakfas’ an’ havin’ her
bring him up sumpin’ ter eat.
“Wal, one mornin’ he wuz up stairs eatin’ er-
way, an his eatin’s run out fo’ he wuz through.
He heered some one walkin’ in de dinin’ room un-
der him, an he thort it wuz de cook, but it wuz
de white lady. He says, says he, “Honey, bring me
up ernudder cup uv coffee an’ ernudder hot bis-
cuit.” De white 'oman stopped ter listen, an de
feller thinkin’ dat de cook didunt quite heah said
er leetul louder, “Say, honey, bring me up er nud-
14


A BADLY NEEDED OPENING. 211
When the laugh that followed the anecdote was
over, Uncle Jack added: “Yer see, Baug, I under-
stan’s de white people, an’ I’ll try ter have de gate
open whenevah I sets down ter eat grub dat dey
doan’ want me ter eat.”
At length the Alabama train was called out, and
Uncle Jack was escorted by Baug to the gate lead-
ing to the train. A hearty hand shake, a steady
looking into each other's eyes, and Uncle Jack was
off. Peace be to his good intentions whatever
may betide his bones.


214 POINTING THE WAY.
ole massa. Ole Joe jes' would steal hogs. He
would say dat his labor fed de hogs, an’ dat his
stomick wuz jes' kerlectin’ honis’ debts whut ole
massa failed ter pay. His stomick wuz er shuah
'nough good kerlecter, too.
“Wal, ole massa kinder caught on ter ole Joe
an one night er short while atter he heered er
pig squeal, he started towards ole Joe's cabin. Ole
Joe had spies out whut whistled er long ways
off ter let him know dat massa wuz comin’. Quick
ezer flash ole Joe grabbed his leetul baby gal dat
wuz in de cradle, handed it ter his ole ’oman, an’
sent her runnin’ out uv de cabin wid it. Ole Joe
den took de pig, slapped him in de cradle, kivered
him up, an’ swep de scraped off hair uv de pig
back in er corner uv de room.
“W’en massa come in de cabin ole Joe wuz
sittin’ down by de cradle jes’ ez meek ezer lamb,
rockin’ it an’ singin'
“‘Rock er bye baby in de tree top,
W’en de win blows der cradle will rock;
W’en de tree breaks de cradle 'ull fall,
An' down 'ull come baby an’ cradle an all.”
“‘Whut is de mattah dare?” axed massa.
“‘My baby is mighty sick, mighty sick, massa,”
said ole Joe.
“‘Dat's too bad. Lemme take er look at her,”
said massa.
“Ole Joe's eyes bucked wide, he wuz so skeert.
“‘Naw, naw, massa; Granny White says dat ef


216 POINTING THE WAY.
A hearty laugh followed Uncle Jack's joke.
“Come give me your hand, Uncle. That is a
good one,” said the man behind the election box.
Uncle Jack approached the man as if to grasp the
proffered hand, but when over the box dropped
therein a ballot which he had all the while kept
concealed, watching for an opportunity to cast it.
“What have you done? You are not a regis-
tered voter,” angrily spoke the election judge, who
had invited the hand shake.
“I will 'splain ter yer, sah,” began Uncle Jack.
“I is er ill-littered man an’ my grandaddy wuz
er slave. Dey wouldn’t put my name on de reg-
'stration books 'cause my grandaddy couldn’t vote.
EZ my grandaddy wuz kept frum votin’ cause uv
his color an’ cause he wuz er slave, it is stretchin'
color an’ slavery down ter me terday fur me ter
be shet out on 'count uv my grandaddy's short-
comin’s. Ter stretch color an’ slav'ry lak dat is
pintedly 'gainst de constertution uv de United
States. Ez I wuz shet out uv de reg'stration by
unfair means, I done come straight ter de ’lection.”
“You have violated the law, sir, and you will
be jailed,” angrily shouted the election judge.
“Now dat is whut I am aimin’ at. I done
voted. I wants ter see ef de S'preme Coat will
stan’ fur me bein’ punished fur not 'beyin’ er law
whut doan’ itself 'bey de constertution.”
“Take that, you scoundrel, trying to overthrow
the law of the sovereign State of Alabama,” said


CHAPTER XXXIV.
A CHINESE LADY.
T: , IME wore on. Days, weeks, months, and a
few short years which seemed to Baug an
eternity passed away.
In the chamber of the Supreme Court of the
United States, on the morning set for the hearing
of the suit brought according to plans mapped out
by Baug to have declared null and void the clauses
of the Constitution of a certain Southern State
intended to grant to illiterate whites privileges
denied to illiterate Negroes on the same general
level, Baug Peppers sat in such a manner as to
have a commanding view of each entrance and of
the audience. He was on hand early, in fact, was
the first to arrive, and was determined to thor-
oughly scrutinize the face of every woman to be
seen in the court room that day, for he felt that
here was his one last certain opportunity to find
Eina Rapona.
As the hour for the hearing of the case drew
near, the audience-room began to fill, and Baug
was kept busy looking from face to face in the
hope of beholding the one face. At length the
room was filled, every seat being taken save one
that had been reserved for the wife of the Chi-
nese minister.
Baug's heart grew heavy. The question as to


A CHINESE LADY. 221
whether the great American nation was to make
good her grant of equality of citizenship to the
race of darker hue was now to be argued by him,
and he felt the need of being in the best possible
mood to present the case. But, with no Eina
present, the weight of ten thousand worlds
seemed to be upon him.
Although Baug knew that the one vacant seat
was for the wife of the Chinese minister, the
fact that any seat was yet empty was a slight
source of comfort, the drowning man’s straw.
Presently there was a rustling of silks down an
aisle as a lady, clothed in the Chinese garb and
thickly veiled, came straight to the one vacant Seat.
All hope now departed from Baug, and despair set-
tled over his soul.
“Poor, poor millions in need of an advocate this
day! Upon a broken reed, upon a lacerated heart,
upon a crushed spirit, upon a dead man who
yet breathes, your hope at this hour is made to
depend. But, I will do my best! I will do my
beSt!”
So reflected Baug as he sat awaiting the filing
in of the Justices. At length the Justices marched
in, walked to their respective seats, and the
famous case was ready to be called. Baug now
left his seat and took his place among the law-
yers connected with the case.
Just behind where Baug had been sitting was
Clotille, holding in her lap chubby little Conroe,
who had entered the world shortly, after his fa-


222 POINTING THE WAY.
ther's death. Baug had been in the direct line
of vision between the lady with the Chinese garb
and Clotille, so that this lady did not see Clo-
tille and the boy until Baug arose to leave.
“She has fainted! She has fainted!” said a
woman near the lady of the Chinese garb, and two
or three neighboring women rushed to her as-
sistance. In their efforts to resuscitate her, they
lifted the veil from her face, and when Clotille,
who had observed the lady faint, caught sight
of the face thus revealed she uttered a slight
Scream and rushed across the room. It was the
long lost Eina!
Eina was soon restored to consciousness, and
insisting that there was no danger of a recurrence
of the trouble, retained her seat.
“See my little boy yonder, Conroe, Jr.? That
was all a mistake,” whispered Clotille, who then
returned to her seat, and with a mother's pride,
stood her little boy in her lap so that Eina might
see him.
All this while Baug had been busy conferring
with the lawyers, and had not seen what was
transpiring behind him. So absentminded was he
that one of his associate attorneys said to another:
“What a dullard. How can a race of people
amount to anything so long as it commits the
leadership to such stupid fellows as this?”
Baug, having been looking around all the morn-
ing, from force of habit, now took another last


A CHINESE LADY. 223
look at the audience. Eina's veil was now lifted,
and as Baug caught sight of her beautiful face, of
those eyes that had ever been with him night and
day, he grew dizzy and clutched the railing near
which he sat.


CHAPTER XXXV.
A FRIGHTENED JUSTICE.
*VERY vestige of despair now left Baug's
| face, the shadows lifted from his spirit,
and with the wine of a great love stirring
his heart, he felt that he could that day plead the
cause of a hundred million people.
As Baug arose to speak, practically every per-
son in the audience was inclined to turn to his
neighbor and ask, “Who is that fellow? It seems
as though I have seen him before.”
One of the Justices turned pale, trembled vio-
lently from head to foot, and eyed Baug with ev-
ery symptom of an overpowering fear. One lady
remarked to Clotille, “That Justice with the very
bald head seems afraid of that fellow. Wonder
why? He doesn’t look dangerous.”
When Baug uttered his first words, this justice
arose and in a voice quaking with fear, said: “For
good and sufficient cause, and in the name of high
heaven, I move the adjournment of this court for
a few moments, to decide in private a momentous
question of procedure.”
The strange request and the very evident agi-
tation of the Justice created a sensation in the
court room. The motion was allowed by the
court, and the Justices retired, the terror strick-


226 POINTING THE WAY.
so Baug was summoned before the Justices for
his satisfaction.
“Have I ever seen you before?” asked Justice
Morrow of Baug, knitting his brow and directing
toward him his most piercing look, taking pains
however, to stand some distance away and put
as many Justices as possible between himself and
Baug.
“I do not know, sir. Practically every man I
have met in my life has said that it seems as
though he has seen me before, but I have yet to
see one who could tell me when or where,” said
Baug.
“Who is your father?” asked Justice Morrow,
putting a little greater distance between Baug
and himself.
“I know not. He may have been hanged for
aught I know,” said Baug.
“Sir, you are the spirit of ,” said Justice
Morrow, backing still farther away.
The Chief Justice took Baug in hand and said:
“You say every one seems to have seen or met
you before?”
“Yes,” replied Baug.
“No One is able to state when or where?”
“Absolutely no one,” said Baug.
“Gentlemen, I tell you I am right,” interposed
Justice Morrow now ready to leave the room en-
tirely. “It is too uncanny. I like my Supreme
Court duties but not well enough to hobnob with
the dead,” he said.


228 POINTING THE WAY.
In the course of Baug's pleading, one remark
particularly had seemed to catch the fancy of the
justices and the audience as well: “Sirs,” said he,
“if Anglo-Saxon blood lacks a champion on the
other side of this case, let me for a moment step
across the line and take up a cudgel in its defense,
In its name I repudiate the thought of asking a
handicap for the colored man in its race with him.
I bring to you the message the true white South-
ernor would have me deliver: “I want no laws of
indulgence for me and mine. I spurn the thought
of a lower test for Anglo-Saxon blood. If my son
with a thousand years of civilization behind him
cannot stand up in an equal fight with the great-
grandson of a heathen and a savage, if he must be
pampered and coddled with special laws, then I
say with all my soul let him go to the wall.’”


DISFRANCHISEMENT FORGOTTEN. 231
It by no means improved her feelings when
she found out that he died as the result of an
effort to serve her cause. Baug, finding that Eina
had kept herself absolutely out of touch with
all that pertained to Belrose, now told of Con-
roe's heroic death, of the spread of the Belrose
movement throughout the South, of the happy re-
sults that came from the harmonious co-opera-
tion of the better element of the two races, of
Seth Molair's great popularity throughout the na-
tion and the honors of a national character that
evidently awaited him for having pointed the
way for the peaceful adjustment of the race ques-
tion in Belrose, which adjustment stood as a
model of procedure for other communities. Eina
heard with interest all that Baug had to say, but
there was ever before her the kindly face of
Uncle Jack.
At length they arrived at Eina’s temporary
home and she excused herself to dispense with
her Chinese attire. When she reappeared she
was wearing the dress that she had worn the
last time prior to the break that she was in Baug's
company, as much as to say to him, “Let us begin
where we left Off.”
But Baug, who took the hint, was utterly
unwilling for any such arrangement. As he
recalled matters, at the time of the break he was
daily trying to muster enough courage to enable
him to reach the asking point, with a fair pros-
pect of getting to that much desired state with a


DISFRANCHISEMENT FORGOTTEN. 233
only genuine lovers can understand, all earthly
troubles vanished.
sk sk sk sk sk sk * sk sk sk sk
When on national decoration days, loving hands
are spreading flowers on the graves of the dead
who perished during the Civil War, Clotille and
Conroe Driscoll, Jr., Baug and Eina and little
Clotille Peppers go forth to decorate the graves
of Conroe and Uncle Jack, while Seth Molair for-
gets not to adorn with the most lovely flowers
the grave of Aunt Lucy, who though a colored
woman, lies buried in the plot of ground that
holds the body of his father and awaits the com-
ing of that of Molair’s mother and himself.
In that one family plot, Southern at that, there
is no color line.
THE END.