The Detroit tribune. (Detroit, Mich.) 1935-1966, 1936-06-13

in reach / must put 1t away; lay
aside; forsake the road I've pur-
sued relentlessly. Is it fair?" His
voice dropped almost to a whisper,
was she fair. Was that loyalty?
His only reply was the soft drip,
drip of the steady falling rain, as
1t hit the yard and shrubbery
rythmically, monotonously. Faint
rumblings Of thunder seemed to
shake the house and vibrate, while
the tightening played and danced
across the room, lingering on the
picture of Frederick Douglass, like
spot light it lighted up the kind
ly face. The long gray hair shone,
the deep eyes full of sympathy and
understanding, appeared to smile.
The kingly gray head seemed to nod
approval.
Jason stood with head bowed be-
fore the lighted face and the friend
ly smile.
$50 you think they really need
me as Mike said?" Some would
say it's a privilege to be needed"
Jason walked away and threw
himself heavily in the large chair.
Morning found him there his eyes
burning and tired from lack Of
sleep.
All through the night he had
planned, making notes, studying
and going over his books. For ia
son had decided to take the Clark
case.
Douglass had smiled his ap-
prevail
CHAPTER 10
The spacious Offices Of Hayes and
wilkins, exporters, carried an air
Of excitement.
Several employees had made spe-
cial trips past a certain door lead
ing into a dignified little private
office, with a soft taupe rug and
rich walnut furnishings. A sign
painter was busily painting in gold
letters on the frosted glass Of the
door, Jason Emory, legal depart
ment.
Two girls passed, one stopped
and stared.
who is Jason Emory, any way?"
Her companion laughed sneer-
ingly.
MY saints, don't you know?
Haven't you heard?'
The first girl shook her head.
you know I've been away. Just
got back this morning" and all I've
heard since 1 came on the job to-
day is Jason Emory"
WELL" the other girl drawled,
slight southern infection in her
voice,
"He is the new lawyer at the
head of our legal department"
But who is he, the king of Siam
or something" Why the excite
ment. We've had other lawyers join
our firm"
Eyes, my dear, but this is en-
tirely different, Jason Emory is a
Negro" and Marie Lindsay waited
for the explosion she felt sure was
coming.
But Lois Lester merely smiled
her surprise.
"He must be good" she COM
mented, seeing the look in Marie's
face. II take it you don't approve?"
Marie flushed angrily.
me approve? should say not"
"Why?
"Oh don't be trite, my dear. You
know I'm a southern woman"
Proudly Lois shook her head,
quietly.
II was afraid of that"
The painter who unnoticed by the
girls, had stopped painting and was
listening eagerly to the CONVERSE
ton, wore a strange look on his
face, as he gazed at the small neat
letters, Jason Emory, on the door.
His sallow complexion had turn
ed dull brick red.
Marie laughed sarcastically.
"Oh my pardon, Lois, l forgot
you're French and can't see the
reason for the American White
man holding the Negro in his
place."
SIN that case the American white
man must feel his own place Is in
secure" Lois replied.
Nothing Of the kind" Marie
answered tartly.
Lois shrugged her beautifully ex-
pressive, French shoulders as she
said,
well, I've always been taught
that superiority comes from with
in. Protecting your nordic supre-
macy merely contradicts your pur-
pose"
There was crash, and the girls
turned to find the painter nervous
ly trying to mop up a thin stream
Of black paint"
Lois looked at her watch.
almost time to get on the job,
and l haven't given this war paint
the once over" and she rushed
away her sharp little heels click
ing, as she hurried to the dressing
room.
Marie stood watching the nainter