The Forged Note: A Romance of the Darker RacesMicheaux, Oscar
General
The Forged Note: A Romance of the Darker Races
Micheaux, Oscar
African Americans -- Fiction
A moment later, the two went over the steps a-tumble, below; but the
razor had flown in a direction which they had not gone, and the tension
was relieved.
Soon, the victim emerged from the rear, and another chase began; but the
razored Negro was then far to the rear. He eluded his pursuers for a
moment during the mix-up. But suddenly in chorus they cried:
"Dere 'e goes, cetch 'im!"
The crowd had now grown to a mob, a sullen mob. They cried out in loud
tones for blood, blue blood; but the culprit was illusive. A street car
was passing, and into it he vaulted. "I've shot a coon," he cried; "and
the niggers are after me!" The car lunged forward as the mob reached the
door, whereupon they looked into the muzzle of a revolver held in the
hand of the conductor, as he commanded: "Stand back!" They did, but 'ere
he had gone far, there came to his ears from the crowd in the rear:
"'S robbed d' bank! 'Es robbed d' bank!"
The conductor immediately rang to stop. The victim rang to go forward.
The motorman obeyed the former, and the car slowed down. The victim
leaped off before it came to a halt, while at the rear, the mob, howling
like a bunch of savages, came on in mad fury.
Then he tore across the street to where an old man, with bent shoulders
and flowing white beard, sat half asleep in a buggy. He rushed to the
side of this, and permitted the old relic to smell the muzzle, as he
cried: "Unload!" The old man did, in a pile. The victim jumped in, and,
jerking the whip from the socket, brought the old horse, half asleep
also, to appreciate the state of affairs, by dealing him a blow that
made his tail stick out, as his legs speeded up the street. The crowd
roared diabolically, as they saw themselves being left to the rear; but
many on bicycles gave chase, and followed in close pursuit. He suddenly
drew his revolver, and let go the trigger, which made a flash, point
blank in their midst. That settled it. One fell to the street with a
sad, sickening cry, an arm limp at his side. The others gave up, turned
back, and quickly went the other way.
And then he disappeared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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