Some laughed at this bullet-headed youngster, who claimed to be in possession of enough money to purchase a “sho’ nuff” Liberty Bond. Others, with prying eyes, leered at his pockets. These he gave a wide berth. An hour of this sort of thing netted him two bonds at forty-two dollars each.
“Huh,” he grunted at last, “these here colored circus folks sho’ am plum short on Liberty Bonds. Reckon I’se gwine try some white mans.”
Making his way boldly out to the front of the circus, where a thin crowd filtered in and out, here and there, some few drifting into the side shows, he made straight for a man in uniform who guarded the entrance to the big tent.
“Say, Mister, you all got any Liberty Bonds to sell?”
“Liberty Bonds?” The man started and stared. “Who wants ’em?”
“Me. I do, Mister.”
“Say!” The man bent low and whispered. “You see that man selling tickets in front of the big side show, by the picture of the fat lady?”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s got some. Bought them this morning, cheap. Mebbe he’ll sell them to you.”
“Thank ye, Mister.”