From Dusk to Dawn

in as full security as though they grew upon the mountains of Thibet instead of in the suburbs of a large city. Opposite was a row of small houses swarming unromantically with young Afro-Americans, whom the tinkle of the gate-bell brought, as it seemed, by hundreds to their windows and doors; some even ventured to lean over the fence, but came no farther. Cyril looked around and smiled, then held up a coin, expecting an instantaneous rush; but, to his amazement, there was only a nutter among the dark little figures, and a stretching of the round, bright eyes which seemed already to absorb all of their faces. The young man then made a few steps from the gate and beckoned. " I say," he called, " I've a nickel for the boy or girl that gets here first." No reply, except a simultaneous flashing of white teeth along the line. They nudged each other and whispered, but remained motionless. " What are you afraid of ?" said Cyril. " I only want to ask a question. Come, here's a dime instead of a-nickel." This was effectual. A small maiden of perhaps eight summers, with a clear, chocolate-brown skin, big black eyes, hair plaited in tight little tails and tied with red ribbon, and a frock of three-inch plaid in red and blue, suddenly threw open her own particular gate and came boldly across the road, followed by a chorus of " Come back, Libby! Nastasia's comin'." " Whatcher reckon I keer 'bout Nastasia ?" said Libby boldly. " Nastasia can't do nothin' to me!...