Further E. K. Means / Is This a Title? It Is Not. It Is the Name of a Writer of Negro Stories, Who Has Made Himself So Completely the Writer of Negro Stories That This Third Book, Like the First and Second, Needs No Title

by E. K. Means

The cracker easily caught fire and burned freely. When it was near to the rawhide end of the lash Little Bit gave the whip a quick jerk and the flaming cracker flew off the end. The boys laughed at the success of their plan, picked up a handful of twine strings which lay around the floor, and walked out.

Boylike, they never looked to see where the flaming cracker went. They didn’t care where it went. They didn’t want it. They went out the way they had come, and ran up the street and far away.

Skeeter was undisturbed until Dazzle Zenor passed and roused him.

“I got a big job befo’ me,” she said.

“Me, too,” Skeeter replied.

“My job am a secret,” Dazzle offered.

“Mine, too,” Skeeter responded.

“I’s fixin’ to make a good bunch of money,” Dazzle boasted.

“I’ll either make money or git in jail,” Skeeter said. “I’m got a detecative job.”

“My job is harder,” Dazzle smiled. “I pick pockets.”