"Yeh, what's up?"
"You heard 'bout this resolution from them niggers in New York, aint you? It's been in all of the papers."
"Yes I read it."
"Well, whaddya think we oughtta do about it?"
"Take it easy, Walter. Give 'em the old run around. You know. They ain't got a thin dime; it's this other crowd that's holding the heavy jack. And 'course you know we gotta clean up our deficit. Just lemme work with that Black-No-More crowd. I can talk business with that Johnson fellow."
"All right, Gorman, I think you're right, but you don't want to forget that there's a whole lot of white sentiment against them coons."
"Needn't worry 'bout that," scoffed Gorman. "There's no money behind it much and besides it's in states we can't carry anyhow. Go ahead; stall them New York niggers off. You're a lawyer, you can always find a reason."
"Thanks for the compliment, Gorman," said the Attorney General, hanging up the receiver.
He pressed a button on his desk and a young girl, armed with pencil and pad, came in.
"Take this letter," he ordered: "To Doctor Shakespeare Agamemnon Beard (what a hell of a name!), Chairman of the Committee for the Preservation of Negro Racial Integrity, 1400 Broadway, New York City.