"In case of doubt, do it."

"But there's the doubt: I may convert; I may open the eyes of the blind;
I may start a crusade for Negro rights."

"Don't believe it; it's useless; we'll never get our rights in this
land."

"You don't believe that!" he had ejaculated, shocked.

Well, she must begin again. As she had hoped, he was waiting for her
when she reached home. She welcomed him cordially, made a little music
for him, and served tea.

"Bles," she said, "the Opposition has been laying a pretty shrewd trap
for you."

"What?" he asked absently.

"They are going to have you chosen as High School commencement orator."

"Me? Stuff!"

"You--and not stuff, but 'Education' will be your natural theme. Indeed,
they have so engineered it that the party chiefs expect from you a
defence of their dropping of the Educational Bill."

"What!"

"Yes, and probably your nomination will come before the speech and
confirmation after."

Bles walked the floor excitedly for a while and then sat down and
smiled.

"It was a shrewd move," he said; "but I think I thank them for it."

"I don't. But still,

_"''T is the sport to see the engineer hoist
by his own petar.'"_

Bles mused and she watched him covertly. Suddenly she leaned over.

"Moreover," she said, "about that same date I'm liable to lose my
position as teacher."

He looked at her quickly, and she explained the coming revolution in
school management.

He did not discuss the matter, and she was equally reticent; but when he
entered the doors of his lodging-place and, gathering his mail, slowly
mounted the stairs, there came the battle of his life.

He knew it and he tried to wage it coolly and with method. He arrayed
the arguments side by side: on this side lay success; the greatest
office ever held by a Negro in America--greater than Douglass or Bruce
or Lynch had held--a landmark, a living example and inspiration. A man
owed the world success; there were plenty who could fail and stumble and
give multiple excuses. Should he be one? He viewed the other side. What
must he pay for success? Aye, face it boldly--what? Mechanically he
searched for his mail and undid the latest number of the _Colored
American_. He was sure the answer stood there in Teerswell's biting
vulgar English. And there it was, with a cartoon:

HIS MASTER'S VOICE

Alwyn is Ordered to Eat His Words or Get Out
Watch Him Do It Gracefully