"How can you say that—or anything to the contrary, when you know all he has related there is true?"
Randall hesitated embarrassed for a moment, then said: "But he needn't have made such an issue of it!"
"But it's true?"
"Well—yes—of course it's true. But—"
"And about this crime, etc.?"
"Yes—but—"
"He shouldn't have told it where the white people can read it," assisted Jones, grimly. Those about became quiet very quickly, and looked at each other. Jones saw the lay of the land, and took his leave.
"At last, at last!" he cried to himself, as he went up the street, "the turning point has been reached. When I write again of civic conditions in my paper, and show up the fallacies among our own, it'll be read and notice taken of it."
All that day, indignation meetings denouncing the article by Sidney Wyeth, was the order among Effingham's black people. All the week following, it was further denounced. And thus we come to the end of this part of our story.
As for Sidney Wyeth, he left Effingham. He left shortly after writing the article, and went to another city. In that other city, he came back to where he started—that is, something had come back to him which was his dream, when we met him in the beginning of our story.