“What sort of honor is going to be bestowed on you, Vinegar?” Dr. Sentelle asked.
“De Nights of Darkness Lodge is bought me a D,” Vinegar told him.
The white men remained silent, praying for more light. Vinegar busied himself with his cigar, placing the gold band on his little finger and lighting the smoke.
“That’s quite an honor,” Dr. Sentelle ventured, wondering what he was talking about and hoping that Vinegar would say something to illumine the darkness.
“Yes, suh. Dey comes pretty tol’able expensive an’ de lodge couldn’t affode to buy but one,” Vinegar replied, and a little note of disappointment was in his voice.
“That’s too bad,” Dr. Sentelle murmured sympathetically.
“De cost wus twenty-five dollars per each D,” Vinegar sighed. “Of co’se dat’s most too high fer niggers to pay, even jes’ one. So I’s mighty glad to git it.”
“Are you alluding to some lodge degree, my man?” Dr. Gilbo asked.
“Naw, suh, it’s a preacher degree. All de fust-class preachers has ’em. Of co’se, I would druther hab a D.D., but two of ’em costes fifty dollars.”
With a gasp of astonishment the two men comprehended what Vinegar was talking about.