worth ten dollars--take 'em for a dollar."

Zora sat still, keeping her eyes on the window; but her hands worked
nervously, and when he threw a book with a picture of a man and
half-dressed woman directly under her eyes, she took it and dropped it
out the window.

The boy started to storm and demanded pay, while the conductor glared at
her; but a white man in the conductor's seat whispered something, and
the row suddenly stopped.

A gang of colored section hands got on, dirty and loud. They sprawled
about and smoked, drank, and bought candy and cheap gewgaws. They eyed
her respectfully, and with one of them she talked a little as he
awkwardly fingered his cap.

As the day wore on Zora found herself strangely weary. It was not simply
the unpleasant things that kept happening, but the continued
apprehension of unknown possibilities. Then, too, she began to realize
that she had had nothing to eat. Travelling with Mrs. Vanderpool there
was always a dainty lunch to be had at call. She did not expect this,
but she asked the porter:

"Do you know where I can get a lunch?"

"Search me," he answered, lounging into a seat. "Ain't no chance betwixt
here and Danville as I knows on."

Zora viewed her plight with a certain dismay--twelve hours without food!
How foolish of her not to have thought of this. The hours passed. She
turned desperately to the gruff conductor.

"Could I buy a lunch from the dining-car?" she inquired.

"No," was the curt reply.

She made herself as comfortable as she could, and tried to put the
matter from her mind. She remembered how, forgotten years ago, she had
often gone a day without eating and thought little of it. Night came
slowly, and she fell to dreaming until the cry came, "Charlotte! Change
cars!" She scrambled out. There was no step to the platform, her bag
was heavy, and the porter was busy helping the white folks to alight.
She saw a dingy lunchroom marked "Colored," but she had no time to go to
it for her train was ready.

There was another colored porter on this, and he was very polite and
affable.

"Yes, Miss; certainly I'll fetch you a lunch--plenty of time." And he
did. It did not look clean but Zora was ravenous.

The white smoker now had few occupants, but the white train crew
proceeded to use the colored coach as a lounging-room and sleeping-car.
There was no passenger except Zora. They took off their coats, stretched
themselves on the seats, and exchanged jokes; but Zor