The Forged Note Part 42

"Jes' look ut dat fool n.i.g.g.a, good Gawd!"

"Sech luck, sech luck, sech luck!"

"Shoot it all!"

"Fate dis nickel," begged a loser, with a whimper.

"Trow it out d' windu' shine!"

"Now watch dis 'leben!" cried the guy with the luck.

"Aw, Lawdy, Lawdy, Lawdy, jes' look ut dat n.i.g.g.a agin!"

"n.i.g.g.a, dem dice yu' shootin' uz sho G.o.d crooket!"

"Shoot it all!" Five dollars was the size of the pot now. It was like five hundred to the eyes that now saw it.

"Whu, whu, whu!" He blew on them; while with murder in their eyes, the losers watched.

"I'll take it," said Glenview calmly. He placed a five dollar bill over the amount that lay upon the table. Several had now gone broke, while others declared silently, that he was a hoo-doo, and feared to risk him.

Several little bets were made on the side, but no one was willing to risk much against such luck as he had displayed.

"Now, Anne Jane, bring home du' bacin!" he cried, as he let them bounce on the table. It seemed an age to the lookers before they stopped somewhat to the far side. A six and a five. Eleven. He had won again.

There was no comment now. Every one was silent, and surveyed him, as if he were the clouds.

"Shoot it all," he cried again. A bit of muttering went the rounds before any one ventured to cover it.

"'E cain' keep ut up, 'e cain' keep ut up," declared one who held only three dollars out of a ten dollar bill a few minutes before. He threw a dollar viciously toward him. After much parley, others joined; John Moore saw Murphy's back, eased a dollar from the cuts, and added it to the pool. Twenty dollars was now the stake, and it was like a million to those that saw it.

The winner now uncoated himself. He had on nothing beneath the coat but an undershirt. He flung his hat in the corner, revealing a little sharp head, shaven clean and upon which the light dazzled like a smoked opal.

As Wyeth observed him, he was reminded of an ape, if he had ever seen one. He took plenty of time, as though antic.i.p.ating something. Rolling up his sleeve, he exposed a pair of sinewy arms that made the crowd exchange glances. Sidney was standing near the window. At this moment he happened to look out. From up the street came a sound of merry rollicking. No other appeared to hear.

The dice were now tumbling over the table in their fateful quest. More than a dozen pairs of brown eyes blinked dryly at them, as the red material flickered beautifully. Wyeth now looked carefully in the direction of the sound, and finally caught the outline of Legs. From the distance, he saw that he was loaded. He was covering considerable s.p.a.ce--so much so that it would have been extremely difficult to have pa.s.sed him on the walk, which was narrow. And behind him came another.

He was about half the height of Legs, as they now appeared. Wyeth recognized him as the runt, and his name was Tom Toddy, at least, that is what they called him about a hotel that was patronized by Negroes, and where he acted as a sort of goat and flunky. Wyeth had had his life threatened on one occasion by him. It was because he had called him "Graveyard." He was old, bald-headed and measly. So this epithet seemed quite appropriate. And, thereupon, Toddy had threatened to send him into eternity, if he addressed him again in such terms. He had a load also.

On they came, and for the time Wyeth forgot the game. Toddy was now beside Legs, and they embraced like man and wife. As Wyeth smiled at the spectacle, they began to sing.

"It's a long, long way to Temporary,"

and as they came on, they changed it to:

"We're a long, long way from home."

Wyeth laughed now almost outright; but those behind him never heard.

They heard only, and saw with all eyes, that the apish creature had won again, and had strapped the crowd to cover the next bet he was now shooting for.

Legs and Toddy had reached the curbing, and, not seeing it, they tumbled over into the sand-covered street. As they picked themselves up, they sang lowly:

"You made me what I am today, So I guess you're satisfied."

On toward the house they now came, singing at intervals. Presently they stepped upon the porch, and rattled the k.n.o.b. The door was always kept locked during such proceedings. From the lower end of town, a rooster crowed long and loud; while, at the same moment, a clock from some remote tower struck two. The dice tumbled onward to their fatal end, and Legs kicked the door a bang.

In the still night, it sounded like the discharge of a cannon.

Then here came a lull. All became so quiet that the ticking of a clock upon the mantel sounded like the pounding of a hammer. Faces turned about and eyes looked into each other. They were all colors and a sight to see. The little Negro, coolest all the while, eased the money into his jeans, as the others cried all at once:

"The bulls!"

And now began the scramble, and it was a mighty one.

Under the table went many, whereupon it turned over, and revealed them all wiggling like so many eels. To the room containing the refrigerator, went a half dozen others and closed the door. John Moore stood in the center of the room where he had been deserted by the others, his knees. .h.i.tting together with a sound like rocks. Cold fear, for he was an awful coward, held him like a vise. Into the closets; into Murphy's bedroom went some more, and piled in a hurry into the bed, whereupon it gave way with a loud crash, mixing many in a nasty, smothered ma.s.s, where they tried to extricate themselves with much difficulty.

And, in the meantime, the kicking continued. "Let me in! Let me in! What in h.e.l.l!" cried Legs, and it was punctuated with a piping from Tom Toddy.

"Yes,"--he was very proper--"open up! Open up! This is a He-ll uv a way to treat two gentlemen!"

John Moore was still doing the dazzle; but, now upon hearing the voices, he gathered enough courage to stand erect, and then he turned hurriedly and running to a rear window, put his feet out, jumped out full upon the soft dirt below, and landed without injury, apparently, for, a moment later, Wyeth heard him running around the house in the direction of the kicking. He didn't permit the miscreants to see him, until he had made out fully that they were not officers. When he had made sure they were not blue-coats, he advanced on them from the rear, and took them by surprise. He appeared unable to frame words of denunciation strong enough, but at last he made it. His voice was subdued when he did speak, he was so angry.

"Yeu! Yeu! Y-e-u long-legged n.i.g.g.a! Yeu liver eatin' bunch a-meat! And you! You little dried shrimp! Git ready t' die, 'cause 's sho 's I'm a n.i.g.g.a, I'm going t' part you from this earth t'night!"

They turned now, for a moment sober, and looked at him. He went on with his tirade.

"Makin' all this noise down heh, 'n' scarrin' everybody t' death, 'n'

a-breakin' up the game! This is wha' you all 'n' me meets our Jehovah!"

Legs was now too near the edge, and, suddenly with a catching to save himself, which Moore construed as an advance upon him, he went overboard with a mighty tumble.

To this day, however, John Moore didn't know it was an accident. He didn't wait to investigate. A long pair of legs, with a long body on top of them was all he cared to see, and when they landed, he was going around the corner of the house and into the kitchen.

His hurry up ingress awakened the Mis', who bolted out of bed, and demanded to know what was up.

"The devil's up--on the front porch, a-raisin' cain."

"What are you talkin' 'bout!"

"That long-legged n.i.g.g.a from Attalia a-comin in heh a-kickin' on the door, and a-scarrin everybody outta the' senses!" he told her, much excited, and with his back against the door, not failing to listen in the meantime.

Wyeth descended the stair now, opened the street door, admitting Legs and Toddy. Legs entered first, while Toddy, blinking blindly, followed suit with a grip on his coat tail.

"Where is he," cried Legs. "I mean John Moore! I want to kill him! Death for him is the campaign for tonight! From this earth he's got to part!

Where is he! Show him to me now, and in a minute I'll show you his heart, the skunk."

In some way, Moore did not hear this; but stood at the rear looking for Legs from that direction; and, in the meantime, declaring to the Mis'

what he was going to do.

"I'm go'n throw that n.i.g.g.a out tonight! To-night, or I'll die tomorra, so help me Jaysus!"

Legs, who had entered his bedroom which opened into the kitchen, overheard this last. He now tore off his coat and hat, which Tom Toddy held, and forthwith sought Moore with a mighty oath. Glenview put in his appearance now from the rear, and kept Legs out of the kitchen, which fact sufficed for John Moore to make words. Our pen fails to describe this in detail.