of 700 miles between his home town and the city. Now the negro sprawled upon the green upholstery of the end seat in the Pullman and grinned and muttered at his fellows in the other train.
“All right, boy. All right, you ole slew-footed niggah!” he would growl at a grinning darkey in the other train. “Uh! Uh!” he would grunt ironically. “Don’t you think you’s somp’n, dough! You’s pullin’dat train yo’self, you is!” he would laugh sarcastically, and then sullenly and impatiently conclude, “Go on, boy! Go on! I sees you! I don’t care how soon I loses you! Go on, niggah! Go on! Git dat ugly ole livah-lipped face o’yo’n out o’my way!”
And that grinning and derisive face would also vanish and be gone, until the whole train had passed them, pulled ahead of them, and vanished from their sight. And their porter sat there staring out of the window, chuckling and shaking his head from time to time, as he said to himself, with a tone of reproof and disbelief:
“Dey ain’t got no right to do dat! Dey ain’t go no right to run right by us like we wasn’t here!” he chuckled. “Dey ain’t nothin’but a little ole Philadelphia local! Dey’re not supposed to make de time we is! We’s de Limited! We got de outside rail!” he bragged, but immediately, shaking his head, he said: “But Lawd, Lawd! Dat didn’t help us none today. Dey’ve gone right on by us! We’ll never ketch dem now!” he said mournfully, and it seemed that he was right.
Eugene’s train was running in free light and open country now, and the passengers, resigned finally to defeat, had settled back into their former dozing apathy. But suddenly the train seemed to start and leap below them with a living energy, its speed increased visibly, the earth began to rush by with an ever-faster stroke, the passengers looked up and at one another with a question in their eyes and an awakened interest.
And now their fortune was reversed, the train was running through the country at terrific speed, and in a moment more they began to come up on the rival train again. And now, just as the other train had slid by them, they began to walk by its windows with the calm imperious stride of their awakened and irresistible power. But where, before, the passengers of both trains had mocked and jeered at one another, they now smiled quietly and good-naturedly, with a friendly, almost affectionate, interest. For it seemed that they—the people in the other train—now felt that their train had done its best and made a manful showing against its mighty and distinguished competitor, and that they were now cheerfully resigned to let the Limited have its way.
