Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. It was Missy and Michelle in her grandmother's old Buick. She looked away. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. She would ignore him. "But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber.
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