Page:Forty years of it (IA fortyyearsofit00whitiala).pdf/162

 The tramp took it and disappeared, and we waited. Jones talked on about other things, but I was interested in the tramp; my expectation of his return was far more uncertain than Jones's. But after a while the tramp did come back, and he poured out into the Mayor's hand the change in silver coin. The Mayor complained humanly of the heavy silver which the Secretary of the Treasury always sends out to us, so that the new one-dollar bills may go to New York City, and tumbled the money into his trousers pocket.

"But ain't you goin' to count it?" asked the negro in surprise.

"Did you count it?" asked Jones.

"Yes, suh, I counted it."

"Was it all there, wasn't it all right?"

"Yes, suh."

"Well, then, there's no need for me to count it, is there?"

The negro looked in wide white-eyed surprise.

"Did you take out what you wanted?" asked the Mayor.

"No, suh, I didn't take any."

"Here, then," said Jones, and he gave the man a half-dollar and went on.

There was no possible ostentation in this; it was perfectly natural; he was doing such things every hour of the day.

He had no need to stop there, in the dark, to impress me, his friend and intimate. I do him wrong even to stoop to explain so much. But I wonder how much good his confidence did that wandering out