siness did not suffer materially by reason of his absence from the
store. About ten o'clock in the morning a note came up from the hotel,
expressing Mr. Brown's regrets and sympathy. Toward noon Mr. Clayton
picked up the morning paper, which he had not theretofore had time to
read, and was glancing over it casually, when his eye fell upon a column
headed "A Colored Congressman." He read the article with astonishment
that rapidly turned to chagrin and dismay. It was an interview
describing the Congressman as a tall and shapely man, about thirty-five
years old, with an olive complexion not noticeably darker than many a
white man's, straight hair, and eyes as black as sloes.

"The bearing of this son of South Carolina reveals the polished manners
of the Southern gentleman, and neither from his appearance nor his
conversation would one suspect that the white blood which flows in his
veins in such preponderating measure had ever been crossed by that of a
darker race," wrote the reporter, who had received instructions at the
office that for urgent business considerations the lake shipping
interest wanted Representative Brown treated with marked consideration.

There was more of the article, but the introductory portion left Mr.
Clayton in such a state of bewilderment that the paper fell from his
hand. What was the meaning of it? Had he been mistaken? Obviously so, or
else the reporter was wrong, which was manifestly improbable. When he
had recovered himself somewhat, he picked up the newspaper and began
reading where he had left off.

"Representative Brown traveled to Groveland in company with Bishop Jones
of the African Methodist Jerusalem Church, who is _en route_ to attend
the general conference of his denomination at Detroit next week. The
bishop, who came in while the writer was interviewing Mr. Brown, is a
splendid type of the pure negro. He is said to be a man of great power
among his people, which may easily be believed after one has looked upon
his expressive countenance and heard him discuss the questions which
affect the welfare of his church and his race."

Mr. Clayton stared at the paper. "'The bishop,'" he repeated, "'is a
splendid type of the pure negro.' I must have mistaken the bishop for
the Congressman! But how in the world did Jack get the thing balled up?
I 'll call up the store and demand an explanation of him.

"Jack," he asked, "what kind of a looking man was the fellow you gave
the note to at the