ish he had
better pick out, when the tall waiter who had bustled forward to receive
the coming "order," bent over his shoulder, and pointed to Dick Lee,
inquiring,--

"Beg pardon, sah! Is dis young colored gen'l-man of youah party? It's
'gainst de rules ob de establishment, sah."

Dab Kinzer felt his face flush fiery red; and he was on the point of
saying something, he hardly knew what, when Ford looked calmly up into
the mahogany face of the mulatto waiter, with,--

"You refer to my friend from Africa? We'll talk about that after dinner.
Gumbo soup and Spanish mackerel if you please. Sharp, now!"

"But, sah"--

"Don't be afflicted, my friend. He's as white as anybody, except on
Fridays: this is his black day. Hurry up the soup and fish."

Joe and Fuz were looking as if they were dreadfully ashamed of
something; but poor Dick was sitting up as straight as a ramrod, under
the influence of a glance that he had taken at the face of Dab Kinzer.

"I isn't goin' back on him and Ford," he said to himself. "I'd foller
dem fellers right fru' dis yer eatin'-house."

Frank Harley seemed to be getting some information. In the country he
had lived in nearly all his life, "colored people" were as good as
anybody if they were of the right sort; and a man's skin had little to
do with the degree of respect paid him, although even there it was an
excellent thing to be "white."

As for the mulatto waiter, after a moment more of hesitation, he took
Ford's order, and walked dignifiedly away, muttering,--

"Nebber seen de like afore. Reckon I isn't g'wine to tote soup and fish
for no nigger: I'll see de boss."

That meant an appeal to the lordly and pompous but quite gentlemanly
"head waiter," a man as white as Ford Foster. A word or two to him, a
finger pointed towards the upper end of the hall, and the keen eyes of
the "man in authority" took it all in.

"Six of them,--five white and one black. Well, Gus, do they look as if
they could pay their bill before they go?"

"Yes, sah, dey does. De young gen'lman wid de bill ob fare in his han',
he's got moah cheek, an' moah tongue, an' moah lip, sah"--

"Well then, Gus, you just tramp right along. If he and the rest don't
care, I don't. It'll be time enough for me to make a fool of myself when
somebody offers to pay me for it. Give 'em their dinner! Sharp!"

"It's jes' a mons'ous outrage," growled the offended waiter, as he
stalked away; but he took good care to obey his orders,