The Detroit tribune. (Detroit, Mich.) 1935-1966, 1936-05-23

nants left the building, still he
stood there and gazed over the
city he had almost conquered. His
name was spoken with the greatest
respect by all. But in recent weeks,
since the Clark and Streeter case,
Jason had detected a difference in
the peoples attitude.
There was an air OF GOODNESS
since he had refused to take Joe
Clark's case. Little words care
lessly dropped had shown him that
the colored people were deeply
hurt and disappointed in Jason,
They were sure now that the white
people had bought him and that
he cared nothing about his race,
Since the near lynching the Clark
case had become almost a racial is
sue. Jason became irritated. Why
should he jeopardize his and
Nancy's future in the interest of
man as useless as Joe Clark was
known to be. There was such a
small chance of winning. The odds
seemed stacked against him. Still
he wondered about the case. Joe
was holding out he felt Why didn't
he talk when his life was at stake?
Strange.
Jason shrugged his broad should
ers. That's for Smith and Davis
| TO figure out, He would go to Eng
land His voice would ring out in
the halls once trod by Pitts and
Edmund Burke. He would trod the
ground made hallow by yelling
ton and others. He would go to
France. Who knows he might visit
scenes made sacred by Dumas and
Napoleon, and his heart thrilled
for Nancy would be by his side.
In two short weeks he would
leave this country of the lynch
law and discrimination. Inter Ma
tional fame awaited him, why
hesitate to take the reward for
years of humiliation and sacrifices.
All this he would lay at the feet
Of the woman he loved. She COM
pensated for every thing. His world
was bounded on every side by
Nancy.
The city clock struck seven and
Jason awoke from his reverie with
start of surprise, he must hurry,
he was due at Nancy's at eight. AS
he locked his desk, his eyes fell
on the headlines Of the city's only
colored paper. Smith and Davis
withdraw from Joe Clark Case"
Jason glanced at the headlines
thoughtfully, as he muttered
"Quitters." AS he turned the key
in the lock and started down the
corridor, he could see the colored
elevator operator, Fred Woods
standing inside the elevator-wait-
ing. Jason hurried and entered.
Good evening Fred" he called out
Clerrily. Good evening Mr.. Emo
ry' Fred Woods answered quietly
and looked away as the elevator
started down silently. Jason gazed
at Fred in surprise, this quiet Fred
who answered Jason quietly
without the usual gay retorts that
had always passed between them.
When the elevator stopped at the
first floor, Jason stepped out. He
looked at Fred with frown. Sick
Fred?" he asked with an air of
one who is really interested. "No
sir" he had answered, as he tipped
his uniform cap. Jason left the
building with puzzled thoughts. He
hurried along, glancing at his
watch as he rushed on.
He almost collided with Deacon
Kemp, of the Morris Street Church.
Deacon Kemp found other things to
interest him as he turned from
Jason. Jason was hurt. He had
known the deacon for years. When
he, Jason had first Joined the
church, it was the hearty hand
clasp of the worthy deacon that
had welcomed him.
The glimming lights Of the gar
age that always kept Jason's car
during the day seemed to twinkle
with a cynical glitter as Jason en-
tered.
AS Jason stepped inside, he
heard some one say, 81 never
thought Jason Emory would throw
his own folks for a few dollars"
yes, 1 was mighty surprised my
self but that's the way with our
people, the minute they get to the
place they can be a help to their
race they turn to the white folks
and garner in their dollars, most of
it earned by rambling on the tired
shoulders of the Negro" Jason
cut the colliquy short, as he said,
coldly: "Please bring my car
around to the front" He handed
his key to Pete and left the garage.
Pete looked in dismay at Jason's
angry eyes, he bowed deffertially