And so, Sidney Wyeth, a man free to practice the arts of coquetry—if a man may do so—accepted Miss Palmer's attention, and to that end he soon became a friend.
When he departed that evening, she had taken the agency, and had agreed to go with him on the morrow.
That night it rained, a heavy rain, and when he went forth the following morning, the streets were heavy with mud wherever there was no paving—which was, in this part of town, almost everywhere. Moreover, it showed signs of raining more. It had been one of the dryest springs the south had ever seen, and it was now probable that the deficiency in rainfall would be eradicated by an excess in moisture.
Wyeth, however, was impatient to begin as soon as possible. He wished to ascertain to what extent intelligence and regard for higher morals was prevalent in this town.
Miss Palmer was not ready when he arrived, and it was two hours before she was. "Thought since it rained," she explained, "that you would not, perhaps, go out today."
"Won't know the difference this time next year," he jested, with a cheerful smile, nevertheless, surveying the threatening elements anxiously.
"If we go into the quarter districts," she advised, "we will most likely get our feet wet—muddy."
"Are there no sidewalks out there?" he inquired.
They had decided, the evening before, at her suggestion, to begin in one of the many little towns, inhabited by Negroes employed in the mines, mills and furnaces, that made Effingham what it was. These little towns encircle the city proper, laying, many of them, at a considerable distance, to be incorporated as part of the city.
Some years before—between one census and the next—this city is recorded to have trebled and over in population. It had, but in doing so, it gathered all these little burgs for miles around. Some of them were even beyond the car lines, which were built to them after the city had incorporated them, and counted the people as a part of the population of Effingham. Wyeth perhaps, as well as the world at large, had not known this. The population, at this time, was estimated to be one hundred sixty-six thousand. Of this amount, two-fifths were Negroes. Only a portion had been born in Effingham; the rest came in the last few years, in great, ignorant hordes from the rural parts of the state, and from the states adjoining. And as Wyeth soon came to know, they included some of the most depraved and vicious creatures humanity has known—but of this, our story will reveal in due time.