"Like Hell, I will!" exclaimed Wyeth with a laugh. The officers standing about, laughed also, and said:
"Don't be 'fraid, honey. You'll have lots a-company."
Wyeth handed over ten dollars, and a moment later passed into the street where a soft rain was falling. "Jesus," he muttered; "I'm sure glad I kept that money." And then, ere he had got far, he heard a cell door clang, and thought about Demon. At the same moment, there came to his ears the music of many throats singing: "Don't you leave me here!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Jedge L'yles' Co't"
Wyeth sneaked into the room without waking Thurman that morning. Nor did he inform him of his good fortune, when the other arose two hours later to go to work. He did not sleep any that night, and, since he had to be to the court at eight-thirty or forfeit his bond, he arose early, dressed, and in due time, he sat in the large theatre.
Perhaps if Sidney Wyeth had suspected what would come to pass that morning, he would have forfeited the bond by not putting in his appearance; but when he put up the collateral the night before, he had observed a mark of respect in the officers. He was sufficiently acquainted with the courts from a distance, to realize that the average Negro brought before that tribunal—with the possible exception of a boot-legger—seldom brought any money or had any at home, and invariably went in great numbers to the stockade. Moreover, the sargent and the clerk, too, had advised him that he might not possibly be fined at all. Therefore, when he left for the court, he had no thought other than that he would go free, and have his money returned.
"It will, of course," they had said, "depend upon how Judge Loyal feels when you appear."
He had heard something regarding this "feeling" before. He meditated as he made his way in that direction. And still he recalled more of what he had heard, which was to the effect that if "his stomach was upset, look out!"