The effort toward the securing of the colored Y.M.C.A., as it was referred to, had proceeded to the extent that it was on everybody's lips. Wilson Jacobs had proved to be a secretary of unusual efficiency.
Mildred kept herself informed of it through the columns of the papers, and was always delighted to see that subscriptions were being paid to an encouraging degree; but she saw that, of the thirty-five thousand dollars to be raised by the colored people of the city, only six thousand dollars had been paid in, after two months campaigning. This was encouraging, nevertheless, for Grantville, with a much more intelligent Negro population, had only secured two-thirds of this amount at the end of six months. Yet twenty-nine thousand dollars were to be paid in. This amount had been over subscribed, but, getting the money was a different story. Would the black people of this town pay the twenty-nine thousand dollars before, or by the first of the coming year? For, on that day, the time limit of the Jew's contribution would expire; also, that from other sources; but it was the money from the Jew philanthropist, that figured most prominently. Frankly, when Mildred saw it, she smothered her doubts as to their ability of obtaining the desired amount.
Rallies for the purpose of raising money were given weekly, but winter-time was approaching, and colored people very often had little set aside for such a purpose. Then, already work was shutting down, and had shut down in many cases. Hard times had been felt for some time, but were beginning to be felt more so. Men by the hundreds walked the streets in search of employment, and found instead, trouble. Arresting for vagrancy had been stopped by the order of the court. Many preferred being locked up, for they complained it was so difficult to secure bread, and even at times an impossibility; whereas, while locked up, they could eat. And that meant much.
Churches were now begging for money to buy coal; the annual interest on indebtedness was past due, and Reverend Castle did double work—the Y.M.C.A. and his church.
And it was about this time, when one evening Mildred returned from her work, and was informed by the black woman, that she had a caller. She was surprised, and looked it. The black woman was too, and she likewise looked it. Moreover, she made comment. Mildred had never had a caller before.
"A gentleman," said the other, when the look of surprise spread over her face. The other winked and continued: "Some guy, too. Yes, swell," and laughed in a way which Mildred always disliked to hear.
"Who was he?" she presently inquired, thinking of someone with a growing fear.
"Didn't leave no name; said you wouldn't know it nohow," whereupon her black face took on a look that was tantalizing. Mildred ended it by going to her room. She felt the call would be repeated. And then would come the climax. She experienced a tired feeling. This being sought by one whom she did not seek, was nerve-racking; but she steeled herself for the ordeal. She hoped, since she now felt that he would call, that he would come again that same evening, and she would have it over.
And he did.
She was about to retire, but not to sleep. For, as the time passed, her nerve began to break under the strain of waiting, and she was fatigued.