The law is usually supposed to be a stern mistress, not to be lightly wooed, and yielding only to the most ardent pursuit. But even law, like love, sits more easily on some natures than on others.<\/p>\n
This was the case with Mr. Robinson Asbury. Mr. Asbury had started life as a bootblack in the growing town of Cadgers. From this he had risen one step and become porter and messenger in a barber\u2013shop. This rise fired his ambition, and he was not content until he had learned to use the shears and the razor and had a chair of his own. From this, in a man of Robinson\u2019s temperament, it was only a step to a shop of his own, and he placed it where it would do the most good.<\/p>\n
Fully one\u2013half of the population of Cadgers was composed of Negroes, and with their usual tendency to colonise, a tendency encouraged, and in fact compelled, by circumstances, they had gathered into one part of the town. Here in alleys, and streets as dirty and hardly wider, they thronged like ants.<\/p>\n
It was in this place that Mr. Asbury set up his shop, and he won the hearts of his prospective customers by putting up the significant sign, \u201cEqual Rights Barber\u2013Shop.\u201d This legend was quite unnecessary, because there was only one race about, to patronise the place. But it was a delicate sop to the people\u2019s vanity, and it served its purpose.<\/p>\n
Asbury came to be known as a clever fellow, and his business grew. The shop really became a sort of club, and, on Saturday nights especially, was the gathering\u2013place of the men of the whole Negro quarter. He kept the illustrated and race journals there, and those who cared neither to talk nor listen to someone else might see pictured the doings of high society in very short skirts or read in the Negro papers how Miss Boston had entertained Miss Blueford to tea on such and such an afternoon. Also, he kept the policy returns, which was wise, if not moral.<\/p>\n
It was his wisdom rather more than his morality that made the party managers after a while cast their glances toward him as a man who might be useful to their interests. It would be well to have a man\u2014a shrewd, powerful man\u2014down in that part of the town who could carry his people\u2019s vote in his vest pocket, and who at any time its delivery might be needed, could hand it over without hesitation. Asbury seemed that man, and they settled upon him. They gave him money, and they gave him power and patronage. He took it all silently and he carried out his bargain faithfully. His hands and his lips alike closed tightly when there was anything within them. It was not long before he found himself the big Negro of the district and, of necessity, of the town. The time came when, at a critical moment, the managers saw that they had not reckoned without their host in choosing this barber of the black district as the leader of his people.<\/p>\n
Now, so much success must have satisfied any other man. But in many ways Mr. Asbury was unique. For a long time he himself had done very little shaving\u2014except of notes, to keep his hand in. His time had been otherwise employed. In the evening hours he had been wooing the coquettish Dame Law, and, wonderful to say, she had yielded easily to his advances.<\/p>\n
It was against the advice of his friends that he asked for admission to the bar. They felt that he could do more good in the place where he was.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou see, Robinson,\u201d said old Judge Davis, \u201cit\u2019s just like this: If you\u2019re not admitted, it\u2019ll hurt you with the people; if you are admitted, you\u2019ll move uptown to an office and get out of touch with them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Asbury smiled an inscrutable smile. Then he whispered something into the judge\u2019s ear that made the old man wrinkle from his neck up with appreciative smiles.<\/p>\n
\u201cAsbury,\u201d he said, \u201cyou are\u2014you are\u2014well, you ought to be white, that\u2019s all. When we find a black man like you we send him to State\u2019s prison. If you were white, you\u2019d go to the Senate.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Negro laughed confidently.<\/p>\n
He was admitted to the bar soon after, whether by merit or by connivance is not to be told.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow he will move uptown,\u201d said the black community. \u201cWell, that\u2019s the way with a coloured man when he gets a start.\u201d<\/p>\n
But they did not know Asbury Robinson yet. He was a man of surprises, and they were destined to disappointment. He did not move uptown. He built an office in a small open space next his shop, and there hung out his shingle.<\/p>\n
\u201cI will never desert the people who have done so much to elevate me,\u201d said Mr. Asbury.<\/p>\n
\u201cI will live among them and I will die among them.\u201d<\/p>\n
This was a strong card for the barber\u2013lawyer. The people seized upon the statement as expressing a nobility of an altogether unique brand.<\/p>\n
They held a mass meeting and indorsed him. They made resolutions that extolled him, and the Negro band came around and serenaded him, playing various things in varied time.<\/p>\n
All this was very sweet to Mr. Asbury, and the party managers chuckled with satisfaction and said, \u201cThat Asbury, that Asbury!\u201d<\/p>\n
Now there is a fable extant of a man who tried to please everybody, and his failure is a matter of record. Robinson Asbury was not more successful. But be it said that his ill success was due to no fault or shortcoming of his.<\/p>\n
For a long time his growing power had been looked upon with disfavour by the coloured law firm of Bingo & Latchett. Both Mr. Bingo and Mr. Latchett themselves aspired to be Negro leaders in Cadgers, and they were delivering Emancipation Day orations and riding at the head of processions when Mr. Asbury was blacking boots. Is it any wonder, then, that they viewed with alarm his sudden rise? They kept their counsel, however, and treated with him, for it was best. They allowed him his scope without open revolt until the day upon which he hung out his shingle. This was the last straw. They could stand no more. Asbury had stolen their other chances from them, and now he was poaching upon the last of their preserves. So Mr. Bingo and Mr. Latchett put their heads together to plan the downfall of their common enemy.<\/p>\n
The plot was deep and embraced the formation of an opposing faction made up of the best Negroes of the town. It would have looked too much like what it was for the gentlemen to show themselves in the matter, and so they took into their confidence Mr. Isaac Morton, the principal of the coloured school, and it was under his ostensible leadership that the new faction finally came into being.<\/p>\n
Mr. Morton was really an innocent young man, and he had ideals which should never have been exposed to the air. When the wily confederates came to him with their plan he believed that his worth had been recognised, and at last he was to be what Nature destined him for\u2014a leader.<\/p>\n
The better class of Negroes\u2014by that is meant those who were particularly envious of Asbury\u2019s success\u2014flocked to the new man\u2019s standard. But whether the race be white or black, political virtue is always in a minority, so Asbury could afford to smile at the force arrayed against him.<\/p>\n
The new faction met together and resolved. They resolved, among other things, that Mr. Asbury was an enemy to his race and a menace to civilisation. They decided that he should be abolished; but, as they couldn\u2019t get out an injunction against him, and as he had the whole undignified but still voting black belt behind him, he went serenely on his way.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re after you hot and heavy, Asbury,\u201d said one of his friends to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, yes,\u201d was the reply, \u201cthey\u2019re after me, but after a while I\u2019ll get so far away that they\u2019ll be running in front.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s all the best people, they say.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. Well, it\u2019s good to be one of the best people, but your vote only counts one just the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
The time came, however, when Mr. Asbury\u2019s theory was put to the test. The Cadgerites celebrated the first of January as Emancipation Day. On this day there was a large procession, with speechmaking in the afternoon and fireworks at night. It was the custom to concede the leadership of the coloured people of the town to the man who managed to lead the procession. For two years past this honour had fallen, of course, to Robinson Asbury, and there had been no disposition on the part of anybody to try conclusions with him.<\/p>\n
Mr. Morton\u2019s faction changed all this. When Asbury went to work to solicit contributions for the celebration, he suddenly became aware that he had a fight upon his hands. All the better\u2013class Negroes were staying out of it. The next thing he knew was that plans were on foot for a rival demonstration.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cthat\u2019s it, is it? Well, if they want a fight they can have it.\u201d<\/p>\n
He had a talk with the party managers, and he had another with Judge Davis.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll I want is a little lift, judge,\u201d he said, \u201cand I\u2019ll make \u2018em think the sky has turned loose and is vomiting niggers.\u201d<\/p>\n
The judge believed that he could do it. So did the party managers. Asbury got his lift. Emancipation Day came.<\/p>\n
There were two parades. At least, there was one parade and the shadow of another. Asbury\u2019s, however, was not the shadow. There was a great deal of substance about it\u2014substance made up of many people, many banners, and numerous bands. He did not have the best people. Indeed, among his cohorts there were a good many of the pronounced rag\u2013tag and bobtail. But he had noise and numbers. In such cases, nothing more is needed. The success of Asbury\u2019s side of the affair did everything to confirm his friends in their good opinion of him.<\/p>\n
When he found himself defeated, Mr. Silas Bingo saw that it would be policy to placate his rival\u2019s just anger against him. He called upon him at his office the day after the celebration.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, Asbury,\u201d he said, \u201cyou beat us, didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t a question of beating,\u201d said the other calmly. \u201cIt was only an inquiry as to who were the people\u2014the few or the many.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, it was well done, and you\u2019ve shown that you are a manager. I confess that I haven\u2019t always thought that you were doing the wisest thing in living down here and catering to this class of people when you might, with your ability, to be much more to the better class.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do they base their claims of being better on?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, there ain\u2019t any use discussing that. We can\u2019t get along without you, we see that. So I, for one, have decided to work with you for harmony.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHarmony. Yes, that\u2019s what we want.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I can do anything to help you at any time, why you have only to command me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am glad to find such a friend in you. Be sure, if I ever need you, Bingo, I\u2019ll call on you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I\u2019ll be ready to serve you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Asbury smiled when his visitor was gone. He smiled, and knitted his brow. \u201cI wonder what Bingo\u2019s got up his sleeve,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019ll bear watching.\u201d<\/p>\n
It may have been pride at his triumph, it may have been gratitude at his helpers, but Asbury went into the ensuing campaign with reckless enthusiasm. He did the most daring things for the party\u2019s sake. Bingo, true to his promise, was ever at his side ready to serve him. Finally, association and immunity made danger less fearsome; the rival no longer appeared a menace.<\/p>\n
With the generosity born of obstacles overcome, Asbury determined to forgive Bingo and give him a chance. He let him in on a deal, and from that time they worked amicably together until the election came and passed.<\/p>\n
It was a close election and many things had had to be done, but there were men there ready and waiting to do them. They were successful, and then the first cry of the defeated party was, as usual, \u201cFraud! Fraud!\u201d The cry was taken up by the jealous, the disgruntled, and the virtuous.<\/p>\n
Someone remembered how two years ago the registration books had been stolen. It was known upon good authority that money had been freely used. Men held up their hands in horror at the suggestion that the Negro vote had been juggled with, as if that were a new thing. From their pulpits ministers denounced the machine and bade their hearers rise and throw off the yoke of a corrupt municipal government. One of those sudden fevers of reform had taken possession of the town and threatened to destroy the successful party.<\/p>\n
They began to look around them. They must purify themselves. They must give the people some tangible evidence of their own yearnings after purity. They looked around them for a sacrifice to lay upon the altar of municipal reform. Their eyes fell upon Mr. Bingo. No, he was not big enough. His blood was too scant to wash away the political stains. Then they looked into each other\u2019s eyes and turned their gaze away to let it fall upon Mr. Asbury. They really hated to do it. But there must be a scapegoat. The god from the Machine commanded them to slay him.<\/p>\n
Robinson Asbury was charged with many crimes\u2014with all that he had committed and some that he had not. When Mr. Bingo saw what was afoot he threw himself heart and soul into the work of his old rival\u2019s enemies. He was of incalculable use to them.<\/p>\n
Judge Davis refused to have anything to do with the matter. But in spite of his disapproval it went on. Asbury was indicted and tried. The evidence was all against him, and no one gave more damaging testimony than his friend, Mr. Bingo. The judge\u2019s charge was favourable to the defendant, but the current of popular opinion could not be entirely stemmed. The jury brought in a verdict of guilty.<\/p>\n
\u201cBefore I am sentenced, judge, I have a statement to make to the court. It will take less than ten minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo on, Robinson,\u201d said the judge kindly.<\/p>\n
Asbury started, in a monotonous tone, a recital that brought the prosecuting attorney to his feet in a minute. The judge waved him down, and sat transfixed by a sort of fascinated horror as the convicted man went on. The before\u2013mentioned attorney drew a knife and started for the prisoner\u2019s dock. With difficulty he was restrained. A dozen faces in the court\u2013room were red and pale by turns.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe ought to be killed,\u201d whispered Mr. Bingo audibly.<\/p>\n
Robinson Asbury looked at him and smiled, and then he told a few things of him. He gave the ins and outs of some of the misdemeanours of which he stood accused. He showed who were the men behind the throne. And still, pale and transfixed, Judge Davis waited for his own sentence.<\/p>\n
Never were ten minutes so well taken up. It was a tale of rottenness and corruption in high places told simply and with the stamp of truth upon it.<\/p>\n
He did not mention the judge\u2019s name. But he had torn the mask from the face of every other man who had been concerned in his downfall. They had shorn him of his strength, but they had forgotten that he was yet able to bring the roof and pillars tumbling about their heads.<\/p>\n
The judge\u2019s voice shook as he pronounced sentence upon his old ally\u2014a year in State\u2019s prison.<\/p>\n
Some people said it was too light, but the judge knew what it was to wait for the sentence of doom, and he was grateful and sympathetic.<\/p>\n
When the sheriff led Asbury away the judge hastened to have a short talk with him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Robinson,\u201d he said, \u201cand I want to tell you that you were no more guilty than the rest of us. But why did you spare me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I knew you were my friend,\u201d answered the convict.<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried to be, but you were the first man that I\u2019ve ever known since I\u2019ve been in politics who ever gave me any decent return for friendship.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI reckon you\u2019re about right, judge.\u201d<\/p>\n
In politics, party reform usually lies in making a scapegoat of someone who is only as criminal as the rest, but a little weaker. Asbury\u2019s friends and enemies had succeeded in making him bear the burden of all the party\u2019s crimes, but their reform was hardly a success, and their protestations of a change of heart were received with doubt. Already there were those who began to pity the victim and to say that he had been hardly dealt with.<\/p>\n
Mr. Bingo was not of these; but he found, strange to say, that his opposition to the idea went but a little way, and that even with Asbury out of his path he was a smaller man than he was before. Fate was strong against him. His poor, prosperous humanity could not enter the lists against a martyr. Robinson Asbury was now a martyr.<\/p>\n
II<\/p>\n
A year is not a long time. It was short enough to prevent people from forgetting Robinson, and yet long enough for their pity to grow strong as they remembered. Indeed, he was not gone a year. Good behaviour cut two months off the time of his sentence, and by the time people had come around to the notion that he was really the greatest and smartest man in Cadgers he was at home again.<\/p>\n
He came back with no flourish of trumpets, but quietly, humbly. He went back again into the heart of the black district. His business had deteriorated during his absence, but he put new blood and new life into it. He did not go to work in the shop himself, but, taking down the shingle that had swung idly before his office door during his imprisonment, he opened the little room as a news\u2013 and cigar\u2013stand.<\/p>\n
Here anxious, pitying custom came to him and he prospered again. He was very quiet. Uptown hardly knew that he was again in Cadgers, and it knew nothing whatever of his doings.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wonder why Asbury is so quiet,\u201d they said to one another. \u201cIt isn\u2019t like him to be quiet.\u201d And they felt vaguely uneasy about him.<\/p>\n
So many people had begun to say, \u201cWell, he was a mighty good fellow after all.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Bingo expressed the opinion that Asbury was quiet because he was crushed, but others expressed doubt as to this. There are calms and calms, some after and some before the storm. Which was this?<\/p>\n
They waited a while, and, as no storm came, concluded that this must be the after\u2013quiet. Bingo, reassured, volunteered to go and seek confirmation of this conclusion.<\/p>\n
He went, and Asbury received him with an indifferent, not to say, impolite, demeanour.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, we\u2019re glad to see you back, Asbury,\u201d said Bingo patronisingly. He had variously demonstrated his inability to lead during his rival\u2019s absence and was proud of it. \u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to work.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s right. I reckon you\u2019ll stay out of politics.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat could I do even if I went in?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing now, of course; but I didn\u2019t know\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
He did not see the gleam in Asbury\u2019s half shut eyes. He only marked his humility, and he went back swelling with the news.<\/p>\n
\u201cCompletely crushed\u2014all the run taken out of him,\u201d was his report.<\/p>\n
The black district believed this, too, and a sullen, smouldering anger took possession of them. Here was a good man ruined. Some of the people whom he had helped in his former days\u2014some of the rude, coarse people of the low quarter who were still sufficiently unenlightened to be grateful\u2014talked among themselves and offered to get up a demonstration for him. But he denied them. No, he wanted nothing of the kind. It would only bring him into unfavourable notice. All he wanted was that they would always be his friends and would stick by him.<\/p>\n
They would to the death.<\/p>\n
There were again two factions in Cadgers. The school\u2013master could not forget how once on a time he had been made a tool of by Mr. Bingo. So he revolted against his rule and set himself up as the leader of an opposing clique. The fight had been long and strong, but had ended with odds slightly in Bingo\u2019s favour.<\/p>\n
But Mr. Morton did not despair. As the first of January and Emancipation Day approached, he arrayed his hosts, and the fight for supremacy became fiercer than ever. The school\u2013teacher brought the school\u2013children in for chorus singing, secured an able orator, and the best essayist in town. With all this, he was formidable.<\/p>\n
Mr. Bingo knew that he had the fight of his life on his hands, and he entered with fear as well as zest. He, too, found an orator, but he was not sure that he was as good as Morton\u2019s. There was no doubt but that his essayist was not. He secured a band, but still he felt unsatisfied. He had hardly done enough, and for the school\u2013master to beat him now meant his political destruction.<\/p>\n
It was in this state of mind that he was surprised to receive a visit from Mr. Asbury.<\/p>\n
\u201cI reckon you\u2019re surprised to see me here,\u201d said Asbury, smiling.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am pleased, I know.\u201d Bingo was astute.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I just dropped in on business.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo be sure, to be sure, Asbury. What can I do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s more what I can do for you that I came to talk about,\u201d was the reply.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t believe I understand you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, it\u2019s plain enough. They say that the school\u2013teacher is giving you a pretty hard fight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, not so hard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo man can be too sure of winning, though. Mr. Morton once did me a mean turn when he started the faction against me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bingo\u2019s heart gave a great leap, and then stopped for the fraction of a second.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were in it, of course,\u201d pursued Asbury, \u201cbut I can look over your part in it in order to get even with the man who started it.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was true, then, thought Bingo gladly. He did not know. He wanted revenge for his wrongs and upon the wrong man. How well the schemer had covered his tracks! Asbury should have his revenge and Morton would be the sufferer.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course, Asbury, you know what I did I did innocently.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, yes, in politics we are all lambs and the wolves are only to be found in the other party. We\u2019ll pass that, though. What I want to say is that I can help you to make your celebration an overwhelming success. I still have some influence down in my district.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCertainly, and very justly, too. Why, I should be delighted with your aid. I could give you a prominent place in the procession.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want it; I don\u2019t want to appear in this at all. All I want is revenge. You can have all the credit, but let me down my enemy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bingo was perfectly willing, and, with their heads close together, they had a long and close consultation. When Asbury was gone, Mr. Bingo lay back in his chair and laughed. \u201cI\u2019m a slick duck,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
From that hour Mr. Bingo\u2019s cause began to take on the appearance of something very like a boom. More bands were hired. The interior of the State was called upon and a more eloquent orator secured. The crowd hastened to array itself on the growing side.<\/p>\n
With surprised eyes, the school\u2013master beheld the wonder of it, but he kept to his own purpose with dogged insistence, even when he saw that he could not turn aside the overwhelming defeat that threatened him. But in spite of his obstinacy, his hours were dark and bitter. Asbury worked like a mole, all underground, but he was indefatigable. Two days before the celebration time everything was perfected for the biggest demonstration that Cadgers had ever known. All the next day and night he was busy among his allies.<\/p>\n
On the morning of the great day, Mr. Bingo, wonderfully caparisoned, rode down to the hall where the parade was to form. He was early. No one had yet come. In an hour a score of men all told had collected. Another hour passed, and no more had come. Then there smote upon his ear the sound of music. They were coming at last. Bringing his sword to his shoulder, he rode forward to the middle of the street. Ah, there they were. But\u2014but\u2014could he believe his eyes? They were going in another direction, and at their head rode\u2014Morton! He gnashed his teeth in fury. He had been led into a trap and betrayed. The procession passing had been his\u2014all his. He heard them cheering, and then, oh! climax of infidelity, he saw his own orator go past in a carriage, bowing and smiling to the crowd.<\/p>\n
There was no doubting who had done this thing. The hand of Asbury was apparent in it. He must have known the truth all along, thought Bingo. His allies left him one by one for the other hall, and he rode home in a humiliation deeper than he had ever known before.<\/p>\n
Asbury did not appear at the celebration. He was at his little news\u2013stand all day.<\/p>\n
In a day or two the defeated aspirant had further cause to curse his false friend. He found that not only had the people defected from him, but that the thing had been so adroitly managed that he appeared to be in fault, and three\u2013fourths of those who knew him were angry at some supposed grievance. His cup of bitterness was full when his partner, a quietly ambitious man, suggested that they dissolve their relations.<\/p>\n
His ruin was complete.<\/p>\n
The lawyer was not alone in seeing Asbury\u2019s hand in his downfall. The party managers saw it too, and they met together to discuss the dangerous factor which, while it appeared to slumber, was so terribly awake. They decided that he must be appeased, and they visited him.<\/p>\n
He was still busy at his news\u2013stand. They talked to him adroitly, while he sorted papers and kept an impassive face. When they were all done, he looked up for a moment and replied, \u201cYou know, gentlemen, as an ex\u2013convict I am not in politics.\u201d<\/p>\n
Some of them had the grace to flush.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you can use your influence,\u201d they said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am not in politics,\u201d was his only reply.<\/p>\n
And the spring elections were coming on. Well, they worked hard, and he showed no sign. He treated with neither one party nor the other. \u201cPerhaps,\u201d thought the managers, \u201che is out of politics,\u201d and they grew more confident.<\/p>\n
It was nearing eleven o\u2019clock on the morning of election when a cloud no bigger than a man\u2019s hand appeared upon the horizon. It came from the direction of the black district. It grew, and the managers of the party in power looked at it, fascinated by an ominous dread. Finally it began to rain Negro voters, and as one man they voted against their former candidates. Their organisation was perfect. They simply came, voted, and left, but they overwhelmed everything. Not one of the party that had damned Robinson Asbury was left in power save old Judge Davis. His majority was overwhelming.<\/p>\n
The generalship that had engineered the thing was perfect. There were loud threats against the newsdealer. But no one bothered him except a reporter. The reporter called to see just how it was done. He found Asbury very busy sorting papers. To the newspaper man\u2019s questions he had only this reply, \u201cI am not in politics, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n
But Cadgers had learned its lesson.<\/p>\n\n\t\t\t Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t