Adventure, August 1917 — page 77: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

With His Record Clear And presently he saw Tom Fagan, fore- man of the extra-gang, arrive there with his crew of fifty or more negro huskies who had been brought from south of the Mason and Dixon line to take the place of the foreign laborers gone home to take part in the war. They had been filling in around the abut-- ments of the old trestle where recent high water had washed away the banks danger- ously, and now they flung their picks and shovels beneath the camp cars and made haste toward the station. Joe Donnelly aroused himself when he saw them coming. It was pay-day and they were coming after their money, joy- ously. He drew the package of checks from his pocket and waited. Tom Fagan’s wrinkled face was first in the doorway. “Good even’,”’ he grinned. ‘‘We’re look- in’ for goold.”’ “Come in,” Joe invited, “and gold you shall have.” He opened the office door for Tom to enter, after which, with Tom to identify, he stood at the ticket window for fifteen minutes issuing the pay drafts to the dusky children as they filed in. There was much talk and laughter and showing of gleaming teeth as the men re- ceived their pay, and childish banter and pompous boasting. Yet through it all ran a trace of rivalry, for the gang was about equally divided between Maryland negroes and Kentucky negroes, the uncrowned king of the first being a big, muscular buck known as “JJ,” and the leader of the Kentucky fol- lowing a tall, wiry fellow called Big Jim, both being aspirants for dominion over the entire company. Harmless rivalry it was, ordinarily, but with the coming of pay-day and the imme- diate prospect of much bad gin in sight it imperceptibly developed a dangerous note, things with edges to them lurking under the chaffing words that passed be- tween the rival factions and leaders. “What you draw, nigger?” bantered JJ to Big Jim. | “IT drawed ’nuff,’” proclaimed Big Jim, largely non-committal. ‘‘Well, yo’ mout jest as well hand it right ovah to me now,”’ said JJ. And he and his crowd laughed long and loud, for they knew that on the last pay- day JJ had cleaned Big Jim of his last cent in an all-night session of coon-can. 79 Big Jim glared sullénly. “‘Not dis time,’ he said and went outside. As fast as they received their checks the colored men disappeared around the corner and down the street. One minute after the last man got his, Tom Fagan looked out the window. There was not a negro in sight. ‘“‘There’ll be riot and ruin this night, said Tom, ‘‘and no work tomorrow. They’ve all gone over to Snyder’s saloon.” “Yes,” said Joe, ‘‘that’s so.” His mind was on his own case, ‘‘And no work tomorrow—for me, either.” “Have you got your furlough?”’asked Tom. He knew Joe had asked for one. © oP] “Yes,” said Joe. “‘Agoodlongone. I’m fired.” “What?” cried Tom, incredulous. ‘‘What’s that you tell me?” “I’m fired,” repeated Donnelly. And he told Tom how it was. When Donnelly had finished Tom Fagan shook his big, red fist above his own head. “T’ll tell you, bhoy,” he exclaimed bit- terly. ‘“‘I’ll tell you that in all the twenty years I’ve been on this division I’ve niver seen it so bad mismanaged as it’s been since this Barnes man took holt. ’Tis a shame, say I. The dirty scut!” @ RIOT and ruin, as Tom Fagan had ¢, forecast, broke out just before mid- - night in JJ’s camp car where Big Jim had come to retrieve his lost for- tunes at cards. -Almost without exception the negroes were crazily, gloriously drunk, gradually working themselves up to the fighting pitch, and the ones who were even partially sober probably wished they were not—the way it stood they could not sleep, anyway. It was a matter of a misplaced ten-cent piece that precipitated the trouble. JJ claimed it as his. Big Jim did like- wise. They arose to their feet, calling each other hard names, their voices high and raging. ‘They grappled before either could reach a weapon—and the hot stove, full of glowing coals, capsized in the resultant shock. The two fell apart, and they and their followers, scrambling from benches and straw- filled bunks, went tumbling through the doorway to the ground. The doors of the other camp cars flew open— heads popped out—the inhabitants came running. Comiclsoo CO 5}