"Come along, Colonel! Yo' can't sit heah all day. Them chairs is for the guests in the hotel," the head porter was urging as he jerked the old man toward the door.
The Mississippian's fighting blood was instantly aroused at such treatment of a respectable old white man by negroes. His lips tightly compressed as he hurried to the rescue. He cried sharply:
"Take your hands off that gentleman! What do you mean by touching a friend of mine?"
The negroes stepped back amazed.
"'Scuse me, Senator, is this gent'man a friend of yours?" the head porter gasped apologetically.
Langdon looked at him.
"You heard what I said," he drawled in the slow way natural to some men of the South when trouble threatens. "I'd like to have you down in Mississippi for about ten minutes."
The head porter turned quickly on his assistants and drove them away, shouting at the top of his voice:
"Get about yo' wuk. How dare yo' intehfere wid a friend of de Senator's? I'll teach yo' to be putting yoh nose in where it ain't got no business."
The old man, astonished at the turn of events, came forward hesitatingly to Langdon.