Julia chattered away and ate everything in sight. She wanted to know if I had ever lived in the country, if I could ride a horse, if I had ever caught a fish, if I could “shoot off a revolver.”
The dinner was over and I was thinking about my milk bill. After this wonderful hour I hesitated about presenting it to the madam. She may have seen what was in my mind, for she said, “Julia, you have talked so much to this boy that he has forgotten what he came here for.”
“I’m not done talking yet, Miss Kate. You know Sunday is my day out, and I’ve made up my mind to have a horseback ride in the country. I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I came here and here is my chance. The kid here can ride, and I’ll take him with me. If you’ll go,” turning to me.
I hesitated.
“Oh, come on. I’ll pay for the horses and everything, and see that you get back before dark,” she laughed.
“All right, I’ll go,” I said.
Julia looked at the madam. “Oh, I have no objection, Julia. You’ll be out of mischief for one day and you’re just a couple of kids, anyway.”
She took my bill, gave me the money and went out.
Julia was hopping around like a sparrow. “Let’s see,” she said. “You be here Sunday morning at, oh, ten o’clock. No, not here, that’s no good. Be at the drug store down on the corner at ten. I’ll meet you there.”
I promised to be there and departed. On my way home I passed the police station and pictured in my mind the inferno inside—the big negro swinging his ladle above the snarling, cursing horde of half-starved prisoners in the stinking bowels of the city prison.