“Who’s captain of this here boat?”
Andy, his fingers clutching his whiskers, stepped forward. “I am. What’s wanted with him? Hawks is my name—Captain Andy Hawks, twenty years on the rivers.”
He looked the sheriff of melodrama, did Ike Keener—boots, black moustaches, wide-brimmed black hat, flowing tie, high boots, and all. Steve himself, made up for the part, couldn’t have done it better. “Well, Cap, kind of unpleasant, but I understand there’s a miscegenation case on board.”
“What?” whispered Magnolia. “What’s that? What does he mean, Mom?”
“Hush!” hissed Parthy, and jerked the child’s arm.
“How’s that?” asked Andy, but he knew.
“Miscegenation. Case of a Negro woman married to a white man. Criminal offense in this state, as you well know.”
“No such thing,” shouted Andy. “No such thing on board this boat.”
Sheriff Ike Keener produced a piece of paper. “Name of the white man is Steve Baker. Name of the negress”—he squinted again at the slip of paper—“name of the negress is Julie Dozier.” He looked around at the group. “Which one’s them?”
“Oh, my God!” screamed Elly. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”