“You mean ’cause you’re white an’ I’m black?”
“Never mind what I mean. Anyway, I’m not hungry, so shut up.”
June obeyed, scuffling his shoes in the cinders underfoot and staring sadly at the sunset glow beyond the factory roofs to the west. Sam had found a very old and very dry bone somewhere and was pretending that it was quite new and delicious. He even growled once or twice, although there was no other dog in sight, perhaps to convince himself that he really had discovered a prize. Minutes passed and the western sky faded from crimson to yellow, and from yellow to gray. Finally Wayne stole a look at June.
“You’d better be going,” he growled.
“I ain’ aimin’ to go, Mas’ Wayne,” replied June earnestly. “Reckon I ain’ no hungrier than you is.”
“I don’t care whether you are or not,” declared the other angrily. “I say you’re to go and get some supper. Now you go.”
June shook his head. “Not without you come along,” he answered.
“You do as I tell you, June!”
“I’m wishin’ to, Mas’ Wayne, but I jus’ can’, sir.”
“Well, you just will! If you don’t start right along I’ll whale you, Junius!”