‚ÄúMean? That Mrs. ¬ÝGrey is going to get rid of some of her surplus cash‚ÅÝ‚Äîis going to endow some nigger schools,‚Äù Taylor drily retorted.
“It must be stopped,” declared Cresswell.
The other’s brows drew up.
“Why?” in a surprised tone.
“Why? Why? Do you think the plantation system can be maintained without laborers? Do you think there’s the slightest chance of cornering cotton and buying the Black Belt if the niggers are unwilling to work under present conditions? Do you know the man that stands ready to gobble up every inch of cotton land in this country at a price which no trust can hope to rival?”
John Taylor’s interest quickened.
“Why, no,” he returned sharply. “Who?”
“The Black Man, whose woolly head is filled with ideas of rising. We’re striving by main force to prevent this, and here come your damned Northern philanthropists to plant schools. Why, Taylor, it’ll knock the cotton trust to hell.”
“Don’t get excited,” said Taylor, judicially. “We’ve got things in our hands; it’s the Grey money, you know, that is back of us.”
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs just what confounds me,‚Äù declared the perplexed young man. ‚ÄúAre you men fools, or rascals? Don‚Äôt you see the two schemes can‚Äôt mix? They‚Äôre dead opposite, mutually contradictory, absolutely‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù Taylor checked him; it was odd to behold Harry Cresswell so disturbed.