Then the doctor says slow and even, but not severe:
"You go back to your people now, bishop, and
tell them they've made a mistake about me. And
if you can, undo the harm you've done with this
Messiah business. As far as this stuff of mine is
concerned, there's none of it for you nor for any
other negro. You tell them that. There's none
of it been sold yet--and there never will be."
Then we turned away and left him standing there
in the road, still with his hat off and his face
working.
Walking back toward the little tavern the doctor
says:
"Danny, this is the end of this game. These
people down here and that half-cracked, half-
crooked old bishop have made me see a few things
about the Afro-American brother. It wasn't a
good scheme in the first place. And this wasn't the
place to start it going, anyhow--I should have
tried the niggers in the big towns. But I'm out of
it now, and I'm glad of it. What we want to do is to
get away from here to-morrow--go back to Atlanta
and fix up a scheme to rob some widows and orphans,
or something half-way respectable like that."
Well, I drew a long breath. I was with Doctor
Kirby in everything he done, fur he was my friend,
and I didn't intend to quit him. But I was glad
we was out of this, and hadn't sold none of that
dope.
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