Pap Curtain stepped into the rear of the Hen-Scratch saloon, invested a part of Figger’s dollar in a long, strong Perique stogy, and came out again. He sat for half an hour humming to himself, chewing the end of the stogy, smoking slowly, leisurely, and with profound meditation. He was giving Figger time to circulate the report. He knew that the grape-vine telephone was already at work, and that the news of a big profitable deal would trickle and ooze into every negro cabin in all the negro settlements of Tickfall. Prince Total was the first darky to make his appearance. “Whar’s yo’ silber dollar, Prince?” Pap exclaimed with a broad grin before Prince had time to state his business. “No busted niggers needn’t apply--tickets is one dollar--Marse Tom’s own price.” “Whut is dis doin’s?” Prince inquired. “Is Marse Tom gittin’ up a nigger excussion?” “Dat’s de very game!” Pap snickered. “One dollar per each ticket. Marse Tom leaves me to pick de winners. Plenty brass-band music, plenty ice-water on de way; dancin’ on de deck eve’y night--all de real good arrangements whut niggers likes. You-all knows how Marse Tom fixes things up. Cross yo’ heart an’ body dat you won’t tell an’ gimme one round silber dollar fer de tip!” Prince crossed Pap’s palm with silver and listened to his instructions: “Go see Marse Tom at de bank at three o’clock dis atternoon!” “Excussion!” Prince panted. “My, dat’s a shore ’nough word to ketch a nigger by de year. Gib ’em somewhar to trabbel an’ a crowd to go wid--Lawd, dat’s real good luck! I’s gwine out an’ succulate dem repote!” By high noon Pap Curtain’s pockets were weighted with silver and he had revealed the magical tip to over one hundred negroes. “Dis here is suttinly a good joke,” he snickered; “but ef I keeps it up too long I’s skeart I’ll laugh myself to death. I got a hunch dat I better mosey along todes de depot. Marse Tom done advise me to leave dis town.” When the slow accommodation train pulled into the depot, Pap Curtain boarded it from the side farthest from the station, took an obscure seat in the negro coach, and did his best to attract no attention as the train conveyed him away from Tickfall. Only one negro saw him go. * * * * * At three o’clock one of the clerks closed the big glass doors of the Tickfall National Bank and went back to his desk. Ten minutes later there was a loud knock upon the glass door, and the clerk looked up. What he saw caused him to spring from his stool, overturning it with a loud clatter upon the marble floor, and go running down the corridor to the president’s office. “Come out here quick, Colonel!” the clerk exclaimed, his hair standing on end and cold sweat dampening his forehead. “God only knows what has got into the heads of our negro depositors! Every nigger buck in Tickfall is lined up in front of the bank, and the leader is knocking on the door, trying to get in!”