"Says wich?"
"I am he. What do you want? Be quick, fool; I can't talk to you all day."
"Oh, mistah, Doctah Jones done sen' dis message by me, dat hit ain't no use fo' to staht dat dere revolooshion nohow. Hit ain't got no chance fo' to succeed, an' you is jes gwine frow away de lives of de cullud people. Yes, suh."
The high priest's face took on a terrible expression.
"This to me?" he roared. "This from Elusha Jones? He dares dictate to me?"
"Yes, suh. I mean, no, suh."
"We will proceed without him. It is time to strike, and at once."
The Great Panjandrum began to divest himself of the blood-streaked robe of his voodoo priesthood, revealing a neat business suit underneath.
"No, suh, hit ain't Doctah Jones. Hit's me, an' hit's de othah cullud folks dat will be kilt in dis yeer foolish revolt! No, suh, you cain't mean you is gwine staht to fire on de soldyahs dat's out paradin' fo' to get a bonus f'um Congress. Cain't you see, beggin' youah pahdon, suh, but cain't you see dat hit ain't no use? Dat dey ain't no chanst fo' hit to succeed? No, suh. Dey ain't no chanst. An' you ain't gwine move f'um dis yeer room, till you promises me dat dey ain't gwine be no revolooshion. 'Coz nobody ain't gwine staht nuffin' less you gives 'em de signal."
The Great Panjandrum raised his voice in a sharp command. The door swung open, and the three men from the outer room entered.
"Bind him and gag him and drop him into the hole," the high priest ordered, abruptly.
The robed figures moved forward to obey, but George Washington, in an agony of desperation, clung to the robe of the leader in a last entreaty.
"No, suh. Ah ain't gwine leave you till you promises. Hit cain't do no good, suh, to de cullud folks. Hit cain't do no good nohow."
The three men leaped upon him, but he clung with the grip of despair to the Great Panjandrum. The table crashed over on its side. The bowl upset, and drenched George in the blood of the black goat. His shabby felt hat fell to the floor, and was kicked to one side in the scuffle.
The fat man turned his attention to a hidden push-button under the carpet, waiting for the other two to pry George loose from the Great Panjandrum. But the four men rolled and scuffled and kicked and bit, and the fat man could not press the button without dropping all four of them into the black hole that yawned beneath the carpet. The flying legs of one of the men struck the fat man on the back of the head. With a howl of pain, he involuntarily pressed the button. The floor opened. George, whose right hand had been pried loose, clutched frantically at the leg of the fat man, and pulled him down. All five fell through the floor, and the bowl rolled after them, together with the remains of the black goat. The trap-door closed above them.
HARDLY had the Great Panjandrum and his men fallen into the dark hole with their prisoner, when a shuffling of feet was heard overhead. Several men burst into the room. The votaries of voodoo clapped their hands over George Washington's mouth, to silence him. They listened intently.
The men, who had entered the room with drawn revolvers, were a detail of police, sent to arrest the Great Panjandrum, after a later warning than George's had wakened them to a sense of the peril confronting the South Side.
