The green-eyed man essayed a cackling laugh. “And so’s mine,” he continued, picking up the five bills, “so I guess I’ll be going.” Willie had been standing by in respectful silence since the white folks had indicated by ignoring him that they were too busy to talk to him. White people are that way, Willie had learned. Sometimes they will talk with you and laugh with you. And sometimes when they are busy they won’t pay any attention to you unless you get in their way or something. Then they will curse you. Willie knew how to get along with white folks. But things were different now. He had business with Mister Green Eyes. “Wait a minute, Cap’m, suh,” he addressed the green-eyed man. Green Eyes stiffened, blinked his eyes, passed his hand across his forehead, and frowned. He stuck the money into his pocket quickly and grabbed for his hat. “Wait a minute, Cap’m,” Willie pleaded. “I got ter make my speech.” The green-eyed man turned pale and shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth and shaking his head as if in an effort to clear his brain. “Sheriff,” he said with a great struggle for calmness in his voice, “I need a drink. I--I--I’m sort of nervous, I reckon.” “There’s the doctor,” Cap’m Archie replied calmly, nodding toward the coroner. “But, Cap’m, suh, wait,” interjected Willie, “lemme make my speech----” The green-eyed man yelled and ran to the doctor. “Get me a drink, Doctor!” he begged. “A drink! For God’s sake. I’m all shot to hell, Doctor. Get me a drink, quick.” “What’s the matter, man?” demanded the doctor. “What is it?” “That damned nigger, Doctor. I’m seein’ things. So help me. He wants to make a speech, Doctor----” “Dat’s all right, Cap’m,” Willie insisted. “Hit ain’t no mean speech.” “O-ww-w-w--Doctor,” screamed the green-eyed man. “There he is again.” The coroner and Cap’m Archie caught the hangman and led him to a chair. “Calm down, man,” said the doctor. “Your nerves are upset.” “But that nigger, that damned nigger! I see him.” “Well, he isn’t going to hurt you, man. He’s----” “Nawsuh, I wa’n’t gonter hurt nobody,” Willie assured him. “I jes’ was gonter say a few words.” The man struggled wildly, and it was only with the added strength of the two Gibbses and the editor that they succeeded in holding him in his chair. He was alternately crying and cursing, trembling weakly and fighting wildly. “That damned nigger! I see him! I see him!” he kept shouting. “He wants to make a speech!” “Hold him until I can fix a hypodermic,” ordered the doctor. “I jes’ gonter make my speech,” Willie pleaded again in an effort to calm the green-eyed man. “I ain’ gonter do nothin’ but jes’ tawk.”