Then, followed by his other assistant, the professor walked slowly up the street to the opera-house to dress the stage for his evening’s performance. They were followed at a respectful distance by Conko Mukes. The moment the two men had passed out of sight through the stage entrance in the alley by the Gaitskill store, Conko Mukes knocked on the door. “Open up, Bill!” Zodono commanded. “I guess that is the nigger washwoman come after those curtains.” When Conko Mukes entered, Zodono came forward. “Have you come after the washing?” he asked. Conko Mukes took off his hat, and his immense mouth with its mashed and shapeless lips spread wide in an ugly grin. “Don’t you know me, Mister Jimmy?” Conko asked. “My Lord!” Zodono exclaimed after a moment’s inspection. “You damn’ ole coon! What you doing in this place, Conko?” “I had to take a good riddunce of Georgia, Mr. Jimmy,” Conko growled, grinning like a bear. “De gram jury lawed me all de time an’ dat place got too hot. How is all de white folks an’ de niggers in Tupelo?” “Fine--when I saw them last,” Zodono grinned. “The grand jury lawed me, too, and I left.” “Is dat how come you change yo’ name?” Conko asked in polite tones. “Oh, no; it wasn’t as bad as that,” Zodono laughed. “But I could never make any money in my business with my real name. A spiritualistic medium, fortune-teller, magician, and hypnotist named Jim Skaggs--that would never do. What are you doing here?” “I’se prize-fightin’, Mr. Jimmy. I been fightin’ up’n down de Mississippi River, an’ I come here to git a fight dis atternoon wid a nigger named Hitch Diamond.” “How did you like my show out in front?” Zodono asked. “It wus fine, Mr. Jimmy!” Conko exclaimed in enthusiastic tones. “Dat’s how come I wants to see you. I would like to ’terrogate you ’bout dat show.” “What do you want to know?” “Whut I axes you is dis,” Conko began; “you s’pose a nigger could learn how to hypnertize like you?” Zodono looked at Bill, his assistant, and winked. Then he answered: “Certainly, Conko.” “How is it did, boss?” the negro asked eagerly. Zodono looked at the negro for a moment then grinned. He looked at Bill and Bill grinned back. Here was a chance to have some fun. “You’re getting ready to pull some hypnotic stunt in that prize-fight this afternoon, ain’t you Conko?” the professor asked. “Yes, suh,” Conko chuckled like a rumbling train. “I figger ef I could put dat fightin’ coon to sleep like you done dat white boy in front of de drug-sto’, dat I could knock him out widout wastin’ so much wind an’ elbow-grease.” “Well,” Professor Zodono began, “first you walk straight up to the subject and look into his eyes.” “Which eye does you look at his eyes wid?” Conko asked. “Both eyes--your own eyes!” Zodono explained. “Yes, suh.” “Then you make a stroking motion in front of his face with the fingers of your hand extended like you were combing wool----” “Yes, suh; you paws at him.”