The porter looked up from the shoes he was shining at Gaston’s dishevelled hair and gave him no welcome.

Gaston dropped a half dollar into his hand and the porter dropped the shoes and grinned a royal welcome. “Any ting I kin do fer ye boss?”

“Got any ladies on your car?”

“Yassir, three un ’em.”

“Young, or old?”

“One young un, en two ole uns.”

“Did the young lady get on at Independence?”

“Yassir.”

“Going to Atlanta?”

“Yassir.”