As the fall election drew near when county and state officers were to
be elected, a tremendous effort was being made by all opposing factions
to defeat those candidates that the Klan was said to favor. The wildest
stories were circulated as to outrages having been committed by the
Klan. The fear of the negroes was again played upon.
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.