A vile oath, an angry stare from his bloodshot eyes.
"Ye ——, what are ye doin' here? out wid ye, quick!"
"What's the matter?" queried the conductor, who was collecting somebody's fare.
"The matther, is it? matther enough! what's this nasty nagur doin' here? Put him out, can't ye?"
The conductor took no notice.
"Conductor!" spoke up a well-dressed man, with the air and manner of a gentleman, "what does that card say?"
The conductor looked at the card indicated, upon which was printed "Colored people not allowed in this car," legible enough to require less study than he saw fit to give it. "Well!" he said.
"Well," was the answer,—"your duty is plain. Put that fellow out."
The conductor hesitated,—looked round the car. Nobody spoke.
"I'm sorry, my man! I hoped there would be no objection when I let you in; but our orders are strict, and, as the passengers ain't willing, you'll have to get off,"—jerking angrily at the bell.