however, was not satisfied with what he had seen. Back in front of his shop, he opened the door, took down the sign he had left hanging on the knob, "Back in ten minutes," substituted another, "Closed for the day," relocked the door, and started off in the direction of Casey's department store.
He had decided to devote the whole afternoon to detective work. Of course, it would cost him money, having the shop closed half a day. "But," he consoled himself, "I'm worth seventy thousand dollars. I bet I am entitled to a little holiday."
Chapter XV.
Braceway Sees a Light
Braceway had discovered long ago that the man who attempts good work as a detective must depend almost as much on his ability to make friends as he does on his capacity for sifting evidence.
"I'm a good worker," he was in the habit of saying, "but I'm not half as good working alone as I am when I have the help of all the men and women who are witnesses in a case or connected with it in some other way. I need all the cooperation I can get."
This was one reason why Roddy, when he entered Braceway's room, felt sure immediately that he would receive only kindly treatment. He had shown signs of fear on entering the room, and in his extremely black face his singularly white eyeballs had rolled around grotesquely.
But Braceway put him at ease with a smile.
"What have you been trying to do, Roddy?" was his first good-humoured question. "Think you've got sense enough to fool all the white folks?"
"Who, boss? Me, boss?" the boy returned, disavowing with a grin any pretense to intelligence. "Naw, suh, boss. You knows I ain' got no sense. I ain' nevuh tried to fool nobody."
"Didn't you tell the chief of police you were awake all of Monday night when you were on duty in the lobby and didn't you say the only thing you did was to carry up Mr. Morley's bags?"
"Yas, suh, boss; an' dat was de truth—nothin' but de truth, boss. Gawd knows——"
Braceway took from his pocket a crisp, new one-dollar bill and smoothed it out on his knee.
"Now, listen to me, Roddy," he said, this time unsmiling. "Mr. Keene has just told me he wouldn't fire you, even if you did go to sleep Monday night. There's nothing for you to be afraid of; and this dollar note is yours as soon as you tell me the truth, the real truth, about what you saw and what you missed seeing Monday night. If you don't tell me, I'll have you arrested."
Roddy's eyes, which had shone with a rather greasy glitter at the sight of the money, rolled rapidly and whitely in their sockets at the mention of arrest.
“‘Deed, boss, you ain’ gwine to have no cause to ‘res’ me, no cause whatsomever. You knows how ‘tis, boss. Us coloured folks, we got a gif, jes’ a natchel gif’, foh nappin’ an’ sleepin’. Boss, dar ain’ no nigger in dis town whut would have kep’ wide awake—wide—all dat Monday night nor any yuther night.”
"Very well. Think now. Try to remember. Were you asleep at all before midnight?"
"Naw, suh, boss. Naw, suh!"
"Not at all?"
Roddy began to wilt again.
"Well, it might uv been dis way, boss, possibilly. 'Long 'bout 'leven I kinder remembuhs jes' a sort uv nap, mo' like a slip, boss." He coughed and spoke desperately: "You see, boss, when it gits a little quiet at night, seems to me, why, right den, ev'y nigger I knows is got a hinge in his neck. 'Pears like he jes' gotter let his haid drap furward. Dar ain' no use talkin', boss, dat hinge wuks ovuhtime. I 'spec' mine done it, too, jes' like you say, 'long 'bout 'leven. Yas, suh, I reckon dat's right."
"How about the time between midnight and two in the morning? Was the hinge working then?"
“Aw, boss,” replied Roddy with something like reproach, “you knows ‘tain’ no queshun uv a hinge arftuh midnight. Arftuh midnight, boss, de screws drap right outen’ de hinge, an’ dar ain’ no mo’ hinge. You jes’ natchelly keeps your haid down an’ don’ lif’ it no mo’. Naw, suh, dar ain’ no hinge to he’p you dat late, onless—onless somebody hit you or stab you.”
Braceway became stern. His eyes snapped.
"Didn't you carry Mr. Morley's grips up to his room for him that night, room number four hundred and twenty-one?"
"Yas, suh."
"What time was that?"
"Dat wuz jes' five minutes arftuh two, boss."
"Had you been asleep during the two hours before that?"
"I hates to say it, boss, but I wuz, almos' completely."
"Then, how did you wake yourself up thoroughly enough to know that it was exactly five minutes past two?"
"Lemme see, suh. Possibilly, 'twuz bekase uv whut I seen 'long about ha'fpas' one—possibilly, boss."
"So you hadn't been asleep for two hours?"
"Almos', suh. It wuz dis way: you see, boss, de bellboys' bench is right unduh de big clock in de lobby, off to de right uv de desk. I happen' dat night to let my haid slide ovuh 'g'in de glass case uv de clock, an when it stahted out to hit de ha'fpas' bell, it rattled an' whizzed, an' it jarred me. Golly, boss! I woke up an', when I seed how it wuz rainin' outside, I thought lightnin' had hit me. It skeered me—an' dat is one good way to wake up a nigger at night—skeer 'im, an' you don' have to stab him. I sorter hollered.
"I got up an' went to de main entrance, jes' to make de night clerk think I wuz on de job in case he woke up. I looked down de street tow'rd de post-office, an' I seed a man goin' in dar.
"'Bless de Lawd!' I says to myse'f. 'White people ain' got much to do—goin' to de post-office dis time uv night.' An' I went on back to de bellboys' bench and stahted in niggerin' it once mo'e."
"Niggering it?"
"Yas, boss; you know, dat means quick sleepin'. 'Peared to me I ain' no mo'e got my eyes shut when I wakes up ag'in, an' right dar in de lobby is dat same man what I seed gwine to de post-office."
"What waked you up?"
"I don' know, boss. I can' no mo'e figger dat out den I kin fly. Dat wuz de fust time in my life dat I done wake up at night when onmolested."
"How did you know the man you saw in the lobby was the one you had seen going into the post-office?"
"Dey wuz de same, boss; dat's all. Had de same buil', same long raincoat on, an' same thick beard. He had done pass' me by an' wuz on his way up de stairs 'stead uv waitin' foh me to run de elevatuh. I wouldn' nevuh seed his beard dat time, but he turn' 'roun' when he wuz nigh to de top uv de stairs an' look back at me. Den I seed foh a fac' dat he wuz de same as de yuther man I jes' done seed."
Braceway gave no sign of how highly he valued the negro's words. Seated by the window, the dollar bill still on his knee, he kept his gaze on Roddy, holding him to his narrative.
