He was a lad of ten years, and the image of his mother. The future of the American Negro was bright in his eyes; and he assisted commerce to a degree, by consuming as much coca cola as he could buy, with as many nickels as he could gather; likewise, peanuts, crackerjack and candies. "He's _some_ boy," glowed Wyeth, enthusiastically. "I wish I possessed a lad like him. I would feel proud." "Wouldn't you like to have something to do with him?" she said, and he replied jokingly: "Sure." She nestled close, very close. So close that he felt her hot breath upon his cheek. "You do care for me a little, don't you?" she almost implored. He was embarrassed, but replied: "Of course, I _like_ you." "I love you," she said. "I love you," she said again. "Ooh, mamma!" cried her son, at that moment. "Come and see the funny man coming down the street. Ooh, but he is so funny!" She moved away guiltily. A moment later, he arose and took his leave. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE "_Please Git d' Ole Man Outta Jail_" "Ump-um-um! Man, you done bring dat book heah t'day 'n' I ain' got a cent. Nary a cent!" "Oh, but you're a good joker," he laughed, depreciatingly. "You drew four or five great big dollars Saturday night, and I know you saved a part of it for the book, as you said you would, didn't you?" "Yesser, yesser, ah knows ah said I would; but sumpin' done happened since then; sumpin' I wa'n't figurin' on. Sumpin' I sho wasn't lookin' fo'." "Oh...." "Yes," embarrassed. "Y'see, it's lak dis: Ma ole man 'e went down town Sat'dy night 'n'--well, 'e got'n a li'l trouble. Yes, lak a nigga, y' know. Got in dis heah trouble, 'n it done took all I had t' get'm out; 'sides, I did'n' have 'nough 'n' had t' borra frum ma whi' people." "That's too bad indeed," said Wyeth. Sometimes he said this freely, and again, his voice carried a touch of disappointment and impatience, because, sometimes he met a half dozen such instances, when he went to deliver on Monday. As a rule, and since he was by now accustomed to it, he offered sympathy to the unfortunate wife who had to pay so many fines, and went his way. "Yeh. 'Es allus gittin' in sumpin'. Las' yeah--ah maybe 'twas las' month--'e got in jail, 'n' when I got 'im out dat time, I swo' I's gwine let 'im stay du nex' time 'e went off'm heah and did'n' come back. 'N ah did'n' get'im out right away dis time. Ah let'm stay tree days, but 'e jes' keep sendin' up heah 'n' worrin' 'n' worrin' th' life outta me--'n' I was worried anyhow--wi' 'Uh please ole 'oman, jes' please come'in git du ole man outta jail.' So 'e jes' promis' so faithful, 'n' jes' begged so 'a'd until I was at last p'vailed on wi' du 'elp a-Jaysus, t' git'im out jes' this time--'n' you c'n jes' depen' on it, its the las' time I gi'n git dat no 'count nigga a-mine outta dat place, so help me Jaysus, du las' time!" And she bustled about her duties, with a determined set of the head. "How did he come to get locked up this time?"