"Well, it's too bad," he said thoughtfully, "but I don't think we will ever get such a thing in this town. It's going to be a failure, so I hear."
"Indeed," she echoed, "how so?"
"Well, unless they get twenty-seven thousand dollars together in a week, it's sure to be. And 'f anybody c'n raise that many dollars, 's hard's times is now, I'd lak t' see them," he smiled grimly.
She wanted to ask him about Wilson, but hesitated. Had he returned? He was speaking again:
"They ain't had no word frum the secretary since he left. He went north some time ago, and it was hoped that he might succeed in raising the amount among the wealthy northern people. But it's dollars t' doughnuts that he don't. 'Cause I figure it's lak this: 'f he'd a-had any success up there, some word-a come back by now frum 'im."
So no word had yet come from Wilson Jacobs, and as she thought of his possible failure, all thought of herself and what had been in her mind a moment ago, left her. When she left the place she was calm. But where to go now was another problem. To go back to Mother Jane, never entered her mind. She wandered about for an hour. She now recognized the locality. She was on the same street she had found upon her arrival in the city—Beal street. She walked up this for two blocks, and where many Negroes were assembled. Several picture shows greeted her, but she had no inclination for such amusement.
Presently she turned into another street that led down to the river. It was narrow and poorly lighted, and the people, what few she saw, were ragged and dirty, and forbidding. She walked some distance on this, until she came across another that led in another direction. Into this she turned aimlessly.
She had gone about three-quarters of a block, when her eyes, in glancing up, caught sight of a house, dark and weather beaten, with a glimmering light on the front, under which was written:
Lodging For Men or Women
rates right
She paused. Her hand touched her forehead; it was hot and throbbing. She felt tired, and her eyes were heavy with sleep. She hesitated, turned into the gate, and approached the door timidly. It was a forbidding place, she saw as she came nearer. The door hung weakly upon its hinges, while light came through the many cracks. She shuddered. How different it was from Mother Jane's, where everything was spick and span, clean and well kept. Oh, if she could be home now with Mother Jane! She wrapped lightly upon the door, and it seemed a long time before someone shuffled in that direction.