Rastus Jones was airing some of the church troubles of the union Avenue Baptist Church in the Wilford State Bank one morning and the bank force who had time to listen were greatly interested in his recital.
"You sees it wa' jest like this. I's elected deacon and so's that rascally niggah, Sam Jenkins. I se's I ain't gwine to act as no deacon if that low down niggah is goin' to be deacon. It's not in accordance wid my exalted opinion of the dignities an duties of the impo'tant and splendiferous office of chu'ch deacon."
"I guess that's right, Rastus," remarked the bank teller.
"Yes, sah; dat is right. Well, when we'd been instituted in ouh offices——"
"You mean installed, don't you?" Ruth asked.
"Yes'm, dat's it, installed. The fust Sunday we 'ficiated aftah de duties and sponsibilities had become incumbent upon us dat impudent niggah looks at me and says, 'Rastus, do you presume that you has the qualifications requisite to serve as deacon?' It was lucky for that niggah that I didn't have my razzer with me. I jumps up befo' the entire boad of deacons and says, 'I moves that Sam Jenkins is disqualified to occupy the high and exalted position of deacon of The union Avenue African Church.' Maybe you don't tink that brought on a battle. About half took sides wif me and tothah half wid Sam. Dar ware some langwage bein' used what wouldn't sound good in a pulpit when the Reverend George Washington Bascom entered and ast what all de argument was about. Well, Sam splained and I splained; but Sam splained moah than I did, an the Reverend George Washington Bascom decided that Sam could remain a deacon. I'd done said that I ain't gwine to serve with no sech a low down niggah so I takes my hat and walks out, and I ain't gwine to pay no moah of my ha'd earned money to a prechah what ain't got no mo' discriminatin and amplyfien powah than to side in with sech a wuthless niggah. I'se done stopped payin' and I reckons the Reverend is gwine to miss my thuty cents what I'se been takin' evah Sunday."
"You better watch out," warned the cashier. "The Ku Kluxers may visit you."
"Ain't nobody gwine to scah me with no Ku Klux talk. If I'se some if these niggahs what's a shootin' craps and liftin' othah people's chickens of' de roosts I might be scahed, but I'se a Christian, I is, and I jest like to know why the Kluxer would botheh me."
"They might get you for going back on the preacher."
"He done went back on me and de best interests of the chu'ch when he saved that onry low-down niggah from my just wrath and indignation."
"The Klan may not look at it that way," said Ruth.
"Go on, you all ain't gwine to scah me with no Ku Klux talk, you ain't."
The bank clerks continued their work and Rastus busied himself about the bank. Several times during the morning his questions about the Ku Klux Klan showed a grave apprehension.
"Rastus," said Stover, "I think you had better mop this evening after banking hours."
"Yes, sah; I'll mop it tonight. I'se janitah at one of the school buildings and have to do the work there right aftah fo' o'clock."
"Well, I don't care when you do it just so you get it done," Stover replied.
That evening after dinner at the Babcock home Ruth announced that she was going back to the bank.
"I'm sorry that they want you to come to the bank and work at night," said her father.
"This work that I am going to do tonight is a little work I want to do for myself. Mr. Stover did not tell me to do it."
"I hope you will not be out late."
Before going, Ruth went to her room and secured a pillow slip and a sheet; in the pillow slip she cut eyes and a mouth vent for breathing. She wrapped the pillow slip and sheet in a paper which she carried under her arm.
When she reached the bank she locked herself in her office and waited for the arrival of the janitor.
It was eight-thirty when he came. Ruth could hear him talking frequently to himself as he worked. Once she heard him say, "Who's afeared of them Kluxers, anyway. I'm mighty shuah I ain't."
Ruth put on her robe and mask and viewed herself in the mirror. She suppressed a laugh. When she heard Rastus emptying the water she went out of the door that opened directly into the corridor and waited behind the elevator cage which was standing at the bottom of the shaft.
Soon Rastus came out and when near the elevator Ruth stepped from behind it.
Rastus threw up both his hands and exclaimed, "Lawd, Lawd!" and began to back off. The white robed figure wearing a white mask slowly followed him. One arm under the robe was lifted toward him. He was sure the Klansman had a revolver in his hand, as he backed away from the approaching figure he said, "Please don't shoot me, I ain't done nothin', Mistah Ku Klux—honest to Gawd, I ain't."
"You have refused to support your pastor." The white robed figure spoke in a sepulchral voice.
"I'se only missed payin' one Sunday and that's a fact. If you will let me go this time I'll pay evah Sunday."
"You may have one more chance. Now face the wall and don't look around until you have counted three hundred. My final warning to you is beware, beware, beware!"
The negro, as directed, faced the wall and began to count. Ruth removed her robe and mask as she passed through the outer entrance to the corridor and hastened to the street intersection where she caught a car.
The next morning it was ten o'clock before Rastus made his appearance at the bank.
"Rastus, you are a little late," said Stover.
"Yes, sah, Mr. Stover, I'se late. I had a terrible sperience last night that's kinda made me feel flober-gasted."
"What was the trouble, Rastus?" asked Stover.
"I was visited by the Ku Klux Klan."
"What, are you telling the truth?" Stover asked with interest.
The bank employees all left their work and gathered around Rastus.
"Honest to Gawd, I'se tellin' the truf. I'd jest finished moppin' and sta'ted home, when out from behind the elevator stepped one of them Ku Kluxers."
"Did he have a mask on?" someone asked.
"Yes, sah; he had a mask on."
"Was there just one?" the cashier asked.
"Jest one in the hall, but I heard a lot of 'em outside the doah."
"What did the Klansman say to you?"
"He said I hadn't been payin' our preachah. I spec dat skunk of a Sam Jenkins done set 'em on me."
"What did they do?"
"This big spook done say he give me one moah chance."
"Why didn't you grab him and lift his mask?" Golter asked.
"He was too big and powahful."
"How big was he?" asked Ruth.
"He must have been seben feet tall."
"You thought he was too big for you to grapple with?"
"Yas, ma'am, he was too big—besides he threatened me with a gun."
"Are you sure he had a gun?" she asked.
"Yes'm, I'se shuah. I didn't see the gun itsef. He kept it covered with his robe, but he shuah nuf pointed it at me."
"This is no more than I have been expecting," Mr. Stover remarked, and the clerks resumed their work.
All day at irregular intervals Ruth shook with suppressed laughter. That evening when she reached home and saw a copy of the Journal she gave full vent to her mirth. Springer had made the most capital possible out of the incident. This was a consequence that Ruth had not foreseen. When she saw the article she was thoroughly amused at the exaggerated garbled report of it, but after reflecting on the article she regretted that she had staged the affair. She had never once thought of the incident's being used to the detriment of the Klan. She re-read the article:
KU KLUX KLAN MOB NEGRO
His Life Threatened
"The very thing that was to be expected of the Ku Klux Klan has come to pass in Wilford Springs. Last night about 9 p.m. a dozen or more members of the Ku Klux Klan went to the main entrance of the Central State Bank of Wilford. One of their number, wearing a robe and mask, entered the corridor and waited for Rastus Jones, the janitor of the bank, who was doing some work on the inside. When he had finished his work and was walking through the corridor leaving the building a man in a white robe and wearing a mask suddenly stepped from behind the elevator and forced Mr. Jones into a corner at the point of a revolver. The Klansman threatened the life of Mr. Jones if he did not agree to do something that was contrary to the dictates of his conscience. The white robed and hooded ruffian then flourished the gun in the face of Mr. Jones and warned him that he would be given only the one chance. Mr. Jones was then forced to face the wall and was told to count to three hundred before looking around. When he had counted the required number and reached the street, the Klansmen were gone. The robed Klansman is described as a very large man with an exceedingly heavy voice.
"It seems that Mr. Jones had had a little trouble with another colored man, and he is of the opinion that this man secured the assistance of the Klan. This seems plausible as Mr. Jones is a highly respected colored man, honest and industrious. This hooded organization has been known before to act as an agent to punish someone through personal spite.
"The Klan movement in Wilford Springs has been discouraged by the best citizens of the community. The organization here at present is small and, as it is elsewhere, composed of the derelicts of society, together with a few foolish individuals who are easily influenced to part with their money to enrich Klan promoters, not knowing the real nature of the organization.
"This incident should arouse all good citizens to do their utmost to oppose the Klan."
Saturday evening when the employees of the bank were receiving their pay Rastus Jones said to the cashier, "I wants some change fo' my chu'ch envelope tomorrow."
"I thought you had quit paying to the church."
"I done quit but I'se gwine to sta't to payin' agin. I don't believe a Christian should quit payin' the preachah jest 'cause he don't like all the preachah does. I wants the change so's I can get sixty cents out of it fer my envelope."
"All right, here you are, but I thought you said that you only gave thirty cents."
"Yas, sar, dat's all I gives regular, but I didn't pay las' Sunday, so I'se gwine to make up fer it this time."
The following Sunday evening the Reverend George Washington Bascom discussed "The Questions of the Day." The union Avenue African Church was well filled. Many of the members of this church were among the best colored people of the town, but of course the union Avenue Church also had its share of the other kind.
The major portion of Reverend Bascom's address was devoted to the coming election. He discussed the issues of the campaign and then he aroused tremendous interest when he said:
"They tell us that the Ku Klux Klan is a factor in this campaign. They told us in the city election that if we did not line up for certain candidates that the Klan would get so strong here that no negro would be safe in the pursuit of his happiness. Now if there is any nigger here whose pursuit of happiness leads him to the chicken coop of his neighbor he ought not to be safe in that pursuit."
("Dat's right, dat's right," came from a number of his auditors.) "Now they are trying to scare us with that bogey man, the Klan."
"Now the Klan may go out and do unlawful things and then again it may not." ("I know it does," came from the pew where Rastus Jones was seated. "Amen," shouted Sam Jenkins.) "As I was a saying, the Klan may sometimes whip a nigger and then again it may be some folks who have no connection with the Klan, but if the Klan does do it I want to tell you that it isn't any more than some of you rascally niggers need."
("Amen, amen; dat's right, dat's right," came from various parts of the house.)
The Reverend Bascom ceased to speak. His mouth dropped open, his eyes, fixed on the door in the rear of the room, protruded from his head.
The congregation turned and looked to see if their minister had suddenly seen a ghost. There in the doorway, clad in white, his face concealed by a mask, stood a Klansman. Some of the women screamed. The man in white started down the aisle, and other white robed and masked figures entered, and as fifteen or twenty of them pressed down the aisles the greatest excitement prevailed. "Lawd have mercy on us!" some of the women ejaculated. One or two negroes crawled under benches and one man, of whom it was reported that he had been paying too much attention to another man's wife, jumped through a window and never quit running until he reached the woods a mile and a half from town.
As the white robed figures neared the front of the room the pastor clutched the pulpit with both hands. Rastus Jones, who was seated on a front seat, called out, "Mistah Kluxers, I'se done paid up my chu'ch dues. You kin ast de treasurer."
When the two Klansmen in front halted in front of the pastor one spoke in a clear voice that could be distinctly heard all over the room: "Reverend Bascom, the Wilford Springs Klan has heard of your good work as pastor of this church. (The preacher breathed easier.) The Klan is ready to help you and back you up in every good work. Here is an envelope containing an expression of good will from our organization."
The spokesman handed the envelope to the minister who, with trembling hands, tore it open. It contained three hundred dollars and a note which read: "Fifty dollars of this money is a personal gift to the Reverend Bascom and the remaining two hundred and fifty dollars is a gift to the church to be applied on the church indebtedness."
Whatever fear that the pastor had entertained up to this moment now vanished. A broad grin overspread his black face.
"Members of the Ku Klux Klan," he said, "in behalf of myself and this congregation I thank you for this gift. I wish your organization success in its efforts to uphold the laws and promote good citizenship. Again I thank you."
The Klansmen then left the room in silence. After the last one was out the pastor read the note just received and a chorus of hallelujahs followed.
"Hallelujah! That's right, brethren," said the Reverend Bascom, "I believe it would be a fine thing to close this meeting with a hallelujah song." And they did and sang it with a will.