More 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 Second Book, Like the First, Needs No Title

by E. K. Means

“When you find out somepin, come back an’ repote.”

Two hours later a buggy stopped in front of the Hen-Scratch saloon and Sugar Sibley leaned out like a drowsy stage-queen, and languidly called for Skeeter Butts.

“’Mawnin’, honey,” she said graciously. “Is you gwine out to de fair to-day?”

“Suttingly,” he told her. “Dis here is Nigger Day.”

Sugar leaned over and whispered:

“Is you saw Popper Curtain dis mawnin’?”

“Naw,” Skeeter lied glibly.

The woman hesitated a moment as if debating her next move. Then she said:

“Skeeter, dat little brown hand-satchel at my foots is full of money. I wants you to keep dat coin fer me until atter dinner an’ den fotch it out to de races. I’s gwine bet big money on dem races to-day an’ I wants you to do my runnin’ fer me. I wus gwine ax Popper Curtain to do it, but he’s done made hisse’f absent.”

Skeeter lifted the satchel out of the buggy with an eager hand.