esswells, the Farmers' League, and the whole
business South dead against us.... Yes, yes indeed; they believe in
education all right, but they ain't in for training lawyers and
professors just yet.... No, I don't suppose her school is.... Well,
then; see here. She'll be reasonable, won't she, and placate the
Cresswells?... No, I mean run the school to suit their ideas.... No, no,
but in general along the lines which they could approve.... Yes, I
thought so ... of course ... good-bye."

"Inclined to be a little nasty?" asked Taylor.

"A little sharp--but tractable. Now, Mr. Cresswell, the thing is in your
hands. We'll get this committee which Taylor suggests appointed, and
send it on a junket to Alabama; you do the rest--see?"

"Who'll be the committee?" asked Cresswell.

"Name it."

Mr. Cresswell smiled and left.

The winter started in severely, and it was easy to fill two private cars
with members of the new Negro Education Board right after Thanksgiving.
Cresswell had worked carefully and with caution. There was Mrs. Grey,
comfortable and beaming, Mr. Easterly, who thought this a good business
opportunity, and his family. Mrs. Vanderpool liked the South and was
amused at the trip, and had induced Mr. Vanderpool to come by stories of
shooting.

"Ah!" said Mr. Vanderpool.

Mr. Charles Smith and John Taylor were both too busy to go, but
bronchial trouble induced the Rev. Dr. Boldish of St. Faith's rich
parish to be one of the party, and at the last moment Temple Bocombe,
the sociologist, consented to join.

"Awfully busy," he said, "but I've been reading up on the Negro problem
since you mentioned the matter to me last week, Mr. Cresswell, and I
think I understand it thoroughly. I may be able to help out."

The necessary spice of young womanhood was added to the party by Miss
Taylor and Miss Cresswell, together with the silent Miss Boldish. They
were a comfortable and sometimes merry party. Dr. Boldish pointed out
the loafers at the stations, especially the black ones; Mr. Bocombe
counted them and estimated the number of hours of work lost at ten cents
an hour.

"Do they get that--ten cents an hour?" asked Miss Taylor.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Mr. Bocombe; "but suppose they do, for
instance. That is an average wage today."

"They look lazy," said Mrs. Grey.

"They are lazy," said Mr. Cresswell.

"So am I," added Mrs. Vanderpool, suppressing a yawn.

"It is uninteresting," murmured her husband, pr