If I exposed Tyss to Enfandin I would certainly be basely ungrateful to the man who had saved me from destitution and given me the opportunity I wanted so much. Membership in the Grand Army was a crime, even though the laws were laxly enforced, and I could hardly expect an official receiving the hospitality of the United States to conceal knowledge of a felony against his host, especially when the Grand Army was what it was. Yet if I kept silent I would be less than a friend. If I spoke I would be an informer; if I didnt, a hypocrite and worse. The fact that neither man, for totally different reasons, would condemn me whichever course I took increased rather than diminished my perplexity. I procrastinated, which meant I was actually protecting Tyss, and that this was against my sympathies increased my feeling of guilt. At this juncture a series of events involved me still deeper with the Grand Army and further complicated my relationship to both Tyss and Enfandin. It began the day a customer called himself to my attention with a selfconscious clearing of his throat. “Yes sir. Can I help you?” He was a fat little man with palpably false teeth, and hair hanging down behind over his collar. However the sum of his appearance was in no way ludicrous; rather he gave the impression of ease and authority, and an assurance so strong there was no necessity to buttress it. “Why, I was looking for—” he began, and then scrutinized me sharply. “Say, aint you the young fella I saw walking with a Nigra? Big black buck?” Seemingly everyone had been fascinated by the spectacle of two people of slightly different shades of color in company with each other. I felt myself reddening. “There’s no law against it, is there?” He made a gargling noise which I judged was laughter. “Wouldnt know about your damyankee laws, boy. For myself I’d say there’s no harm in it, no harm in it at all. Always did like to be around Nigras myself. But then I was rared among em. Most damyankees seem to think Nigras aint fitten company. Only goes to show how narrerminded and bigoted you folks can be. Present company excepted.” “M’sieu Enfandin is consul of the Republic of Haiti,” I said; “he’s a scholar and a gentleman.” As soon as the words were out I was bitterly sorry for their condescension and patronage. I felt ashamed, as if I had betrayed him by offering credentials to justify my friendship and implying it took special qualities to overcome the handicap of his color. “A mussoo, huh? Furrin and educated Nigra? Well, guess theyre all right.” His tone, still hearty, was slightly dubious. “Ben working here long?” “Nearly four years.” “Kind of dull, aint it?” “Oh no—I like to read, and there are plenty of books around here.” He frowned. “Should think a hefty young fella’d find more interesting things. Youre indented, of course? No? Well then youre a mighty lucky fella. In a way, in a way. Naturally youll be short on cash, ay? Unless you draw a lucky number in the lottery.”