Though there was none to hear or see, they dispersed with silent and cautious movements and voices. They crept down the unlighted stairs, hands extended, fingers touching the walls on either side to aid them in making as little noise as possible. As the foremost reached the landing at the botton, he drew back sharply as he was about to step into the street.
“Sh-h-h-h!” he cautioned the others behind him. “Somebody’s comin’ lickety-split down the road in a Ford!”
They all waited with bated breath. The leader peered forth cautiously to see who it was stirring about at that time of night. The others waited, poised on the stairs above him.
Lee Street was bathed alternately in moonlight and shadow as a vagrant moon wove its way in front of and behind small patches of clouds. The clattering car approached—came abreast the doorway—and passed rapidly by
“It’s that damn nigger himself!” he exclaimed to the men behind him. “What’n th’hell’s he doin’ out this time of night ‘round here? An’ headed towards Georgy Avenue, too! It’s damn funny!”
There was an outburst of excited whispering. Various speculative surmises were offered. None was able to offer a sensible reason for Kenneth’s nocturnal pilgrimage. One proposed that Kenneth be followed to see where he went and why he went there. Afar off could be heard the puttering of the engine. And then it stopped.
“Ain’t gone far,” one of them declared. They set out to trail the automobile. Before they had gone two blocks, they saw Kenneth down the street as he tinkered with the engine of the car, the hood raised. One of the wires connecting with a sparkplug had become loosened. He quickly screwed it tight again, started the engine, and drove off, as he was closely watched from the shadows of trees and fences by his trailers. They pushed forward to keep as close as they could, hoping to be guided by the sound of the engine.
He drove but a few yards more and then drew up and stopped in front of Roy Ewing’s house. Getting out, he took his bag from the floor of the car and entered the house quickly as the door opened to admit him.
There was another short session of excited whispering among the watchers.
“What’n the hell’s he goin’ to Roy Ewing’s house for?” one of them demanded. “Roy Ewing went t’Atlanty this mornin’ on important business! Heard him tell George Baird down t’ the bank to-day he was goin’!”