The ticket seller peeled a one-dollar bill from a bulky roll and the deal was closed.

“Say, Mister,” said Snowball, rolling his eyes, “I might buy another one, same price.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Snowball grinned.

Again the deal was closed.

Snowball put his hand into his left hip pocket and repeated his declaration:

“Say, Mister, I might buy jes’ one more.”

For a second time the man’s eyes rested on him with suspicion lurking in their depths.

“Say, boy, who you buying these for?”

“Fo’ me, mysef.”

“All right, Mr. First National Bank, here you are.”

The deal was quickly closed and Snowball hastened away, happy in the realization that he had accomplished the task set for him.

Making his way to the beach, he found Pant sprawled out on the sand, half asleep.

“Did you get them?” the white man asked drowsily.

“Ya-as, sir. Here dey is.” Snowball held out the five bonds. “An’ here’s de change.”

Pant sat up, suddenly all alert.

“You got three for thirty-nine?”

“Ya-as, sir.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Pant’s slender fingers trembled as he spread the five squares of paper out upon the sand.

 Prev. P 23/98 next