“Gawd knows,” Skeeter replied. “He has went.”
“Happy Rocket sont me to fetch him home,” Mustard said. “She say it’s little Ready’s bedtime an’ he’ll git sleepy.”
“My stars an’ garters!” Skeeter exclaimed. “She don’t look fer dat brat home to-night, do she?”
Skeeter began to pant. He mopped the sweat from his forehead and looked around him desperately. His eyes lighted upon Pap Curtain.
When Pap and Mustard stood side by side, Skeeter leaned over the bar and said earnestly:
“Pap, I want you an’ Mustard to keep bar fer me till I git back.”
“I’ll tend to little Ready Rocket, Mustard,” Skeeter said as he reached for his derby hat.
As he passed out the two negroes looked at each other and grinned.
“Skeeter’s done kotch de mattermony germ agin,” Pap chuckled. “Tryin’ to hitch up wid Happy Rocket an’ her whelp. Lawd! Think of Skeeter marryin’ a widder an’ a ready-made fambly!”
Skeeter made a bee-line for Mustard Prophet’s cabin where Mrs. Happy Rocket could be found. But he had no matrimonial intentions.
“I jes’ drapped over to tell you ’bout little Ready Rocket, Happy,” Skeeter began as soon as he was seated. “Ready won’t be home to-night.”
“Won’t--_which_?” Happy’s voice was almost a scream.
“Ready’s gwine lay out to-night,” Skeeter remarked easily, lighting a cigarette.
“How come?” Happy wailed, and her voice had a note of hysteria.
“It happened dis way,” Skeeter replied. “Ready got a little sleepy an’ I spread him down a pallet on de flo’ in de rear room. A drunk bum named Shin Bone foun’ little Ready an’ thought it wus his own chile, so he picked him up an’ toted him off!”
Skeeter didn’t see any actuating cause for what followed this statement and the astounding result gave him the supreme sensation of his life.
Mrs. Happy Rocket sprang to her feet, spun round and round like a whirling dervish, tore at her hair, then wrapped her long arms around her head and screamed like a maniac!
“My Lawd!” Skeeter exclaimed. “Stop dat yelpin’--you’s fetchin’ dat bawl too high! A police will come an’ git you toreckly!”
“O my chile! my chile! my baby chile!” Happy screamed, wringing her hands, walking up and down the porch floor, and stopping her walk now and then to spin around like a top. “Lawd hab mussy! My onliest baby chile!”