“Music an’ free vittles——”
“Festerbul an’ juberlo——”
“Picnic——”
Then a loud voice inquired in a wailing whine:
“Marse Tom, ef us don’t git all dem things Pap promised us, does us git our dollars back?”
Gaitskill did not reply. Instead he took out his watch and studied it carefully.
He was thinking: the old combination freight and passenger train had left Tickfall at noon; it had traveled for three hours and twenty minutes at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. The train was not yet out of Tickfall parish. Then Gaitskill spoke:
“All you niggers listen to me: Go down to the old cotton-shed back of my house and wait until I come. Hurry, now!”
He turned, entered the bank, locked the door behind him, and strode to the telephone.
“Hello, Susie!” he said to the operator. “Gimme the station-agent at Tonieville—quick!”