The Forged Note. Micheaux Oscar

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      CHAPTER TWO

       ATTALIA

       Table of Contents

      "Heah! Heah! Don't get on that cah!" cried the conductor the following morning, as Sidney Wyeth was climbing aboard the Jim Crow car of the Palm Leaf Limited, bound for Attalia. He backed up and looked about him in some surprise, and than demanded the reason why he shouldn't get aboard that "cah".

      "I thought I tole you once we had an extra heavy train, and no colored passengers allowed; but since I see yu', now I see you ain't the same fellah that was here awhile ago." And then, in a few words, he explained that, owing to the rush of people to the south during those first days of January, the Jim Crow section of the train had been dispensed with for that day. He explained further that a second section of the same train would follow shortly. As it would, in all probability, pass them at Lexington, Sidney, with a mumble of thanks, gathered up his grips and returned to the waiting room, catching the same an hour later.

      Kentucky soon lay before him. As far as eye could see, a snowy mantle covered the ground, for it was winter. Presently, countless rows of frame buildings appeared. A new brick station, which extended for some length along the track, gave the traveler welcome.

      When the train came to a stop, Sidney's attention was arrested by the sight of a creature that may have been called a man, but gave every evidence of being an ape.

      "I wonder," said he, to a fellow passenger, "do those things grow 'round here?"

      They both enjoyed a laugh.

      He was now in a land in which a portion of the people, apparently, possessed little sense of humor, judging from the way his jokes were accepted.

      On the car were two women, among the half dozen or so colored passengers. Sidney overheard one of them say to the other:

      "I'm from No'th C'lina; but I be'n in Oklahoma two ye's. I'm go'n back home t' stay. Whe' you from?"

      "Tennessee, Knoxville. I'm livin' in Bloomington, Illinois, now."

      They looked inquiringly in the direction of Wyeth, and presently he was drawn into the conversation. The latter possessed fine sense of humor, and when he found these people so serious, he took delight in joking.

      "Whe' you from?" they inquired, with all that is southern and hospitable in their tone.

      "From the Rosebud Country, South Dakota," he replied. Their faces were a study. Somewhere in the years gone by they might have heard of that state in school, but the Rosebud Country was Greek to them.

      "O-oh," they echoed, and then looked at each other and back at him. Presently one of them inquired: "Where is that?"

      "In Africa," he answered, but they did not catch the joke, and to this day, they speak of the man they met from the Dark Continent.

      At that moment, the train was crossing a stream over the highest bridge Sidney had ever seen, with possibly one or two exceptions. It seemed a thousand feet to the crystal water below, and every eye was fixed upon it. The porter, a long, lank, laughing creature, scion of the south and some porter, seeing an opportunity to draw attention, rushed up in a Shakesperian pose, and related dramatically, the incident of an intoxicated man, who, while crossing that very stream, fell, of a sudden, smack dab over-board, right into it. In concluding, he looked about him more dramatically than ever, as the many "O-ohs," and "Mys!" greeted his terrible story. And Sidney Wyeth, with eyes wide open, inquired if he got wet.

      "Jes' listen at that," they cried in chorus, and the joke was lost.

      Down, down the train whirled into the bowels of Dixie. Far away to the east, rising gray and ghostlike above the mists, the pine covered Cumberland Range appeared and reappeared in the distance. Outlined like grim sentinels, the scene, to the hero of this story, recalled the many tragedies of which those mountains were the back-ground. The moon-shiners, the feudists, the hill-billies and the rough-necks, always had a haven there.

      The puffing of many, many locomotives, the sight of buildings, and the glare of electric lights gave evidence that they had reached a large city. Chattanooga, city of southern trunk lines, and railroad center, now greeted his eye.

      He spent one night there, and the next day, resumed his journey toward that most conspicuous of all southern towns, Attalia. It was a hundred and fifty miles and more by rail. The train became more crowded as it neared his destination, while the people grew more cosmopolitan. One of these, a black man, entered at one of the many stations, and greeted Wyeth pleasantly, inquiring where he was headed for. Wyeth answered Attalia, and his companion became very sociable.

      "Understand," said Wyeth, after a moment—the other had possessed himself of a portion of the seat upon which he sat—"that Attalia is one of the best towns in the south, and has one of the finest stations in the country."

      "La'gest 'n' finest in the wo'ld," said the other, with a show of pride. He was a resident of the state of which Attalia was the capital, and was, furthermore, a preacher. Wyeth didn't care to argue, so let it be the largest and said:

      "That's wonderful! I hear also, that it is a great commercial center as well, and that the city is growing like a mushroom."

      "Oh, yeh," said he. "Out-side Noo Yo'k, it's the busiest and best town in the United States. Yes, yeh," he went on thoughtfully, "Attalia is sho a mighty city. Eve' been theah?"

      "Not for more than ten years," replied Sidney.

      "Indeed! Well, well, I mus' say you'll ha'dly recognize it as the same."

      They were now approaching the embryo city. Clouds of smoke, and the whistling of innumerable locomotives filled the air. Wyeth began making preparation to leave the train, when the other touched him, saying: "No hurry, my deah suh, no hurry. Be's a long time yet befo' we 'rives in de station, be's a long time yet."

      "Well, well!" the other exclaimed, in some surprise.

      "Oh, Attalia's a mighty city, a great city. Wait until you see Plum street 'n' the sky-scrapers."

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