“Well, I tell you. They took me down to the courthouse in Crosstown and they locked my butt up for true. And you better believe this here was one scared Negro.”

“They ain’t beat you or nothing, did they?”

“No, they roughed me up a right smart, but they didn’t punch me or kick me or lay into me with a stick or nothing like that. But it won’t pretty. So they sent for my family. And Paw and old Uncle Paul Henry, Paw’s brother—you remember him don’t you, John? Yeah, he died before Grandpaw did. Back in ’49 I believe it was . . . Well, anyway, I stayed in that jailhouse for a whole day. They brought me before the judge, old Judge Flint was his name. I’ll never forget. Not till the day I die. I declare I ain’t never been that scared in my life.”

“Never, Uncle Zeke?”

“Son, not to my recollection. I was one scared soul.

“So, old man Flint he said to me, ‘Now, boy, you know you done wrong, don’t you?’

“I say, ‘Yes, sir.’

“‘Now if you was older, you know what would of become of you?’

“I say, ‘No, sir.’

“‘Now, yes you do, boy. Armed robbery, why, that’s a felony. Didn’t you know that, boy?’

“I say, ‘No, sir.’

“‘Well, if you man enough to tote a gun, I spect you man enough to know the law. Now ain’t that a reasonable assumption, boy?’

“I say, ‘Yes, sir. I reckon it is.’

“Then he got right quiet and leaned forward, looking over a pair of them half glasses, you know, and he say—and his voice was deep, deep, and when he said this his voice got deeper still—and he say, ‘Boy, I could lock you up till doomsday.’”

The men all shook their heads. “Uh-uh-um.”

“He looked over to Paw and said, ‘Boy, this youngin of yours is got to learn his proper place. And respect for the law. I’ll let him go, but you know we can’t let little black boys run around pulling guns on grown white folks. We just can’t have it. What kind of country would this be? Now, like I said, I’ll let him go, but you and that other one there with you got to whip him, right here, before this court, before me. And you be sure to whip him good, too.’

“Well, they done it. Uncle Paul Henry, he didn’t do too much damage. But let me tell you, old man Thomas Horace Cross, I declare, he put one hurting on this behind. I spect it was cause they made him cough up twenty dollars.”

“Bet you didn’t do that again.”

“Well, let’s say I got more sense than to get caught after that.”