On entering the store I was surprised to find a good number of people trading, notwithstanding the fact it was Sunday.
Several darkies were in the place, and calling one of them outside, we headed for the pump.
"Been hoboing?" asked the darkey, beginning to pump water for me to wash.
"Yes," I replied, not relishing his familiarity, "I'm going down to Florida."
Now its a fact, though not generally known, that between South Carolina and Florida, both being warm sections, a good many of the colored gentry are continually traveling back and forth the year round, but very little, if any, of this migration reaches up to North Carolina or Virginia.
"I'm going South myself to-night," said the darkey. "Can't I go along with you?"
My ablutions ceased.
"Say that over again, my man. Did you want to go with me, you say?"
He was a large, powerfully built fellow, with a face calculated to give a timid man chills, and that the suggestion frightened me, I must admit, for suppose he attacked me during the night, thinking I had money with me. Creepy sensations began to steal over me, and yet it will be better than being alone, I thought.
"I know the ropes pretty well, young feller," he added.