When they had walked about a block, the bell-boy said carelessly: “Pansetta can go! Can’t she, man?”

“I don’t know,” said Sandy.

“Aw, boy, you’re lying,” Jimmy Lane returned. “Don’t try to hand me that kid stuff! You had her for a year, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” replied Sandy slowly, “but not like you mean.”

“Stop kidding,” Jimmy insisted.

“No, honest, I never touched her that way,” the boy said. “I never was at her house before.”

Jimmy opened his mouth astonished. “What!” he exclaimed. “And her old lady out working till eight and nine every night! Say, Sandy, we’re friends, but you’re either just a big liar—or else a God-damn fool!” He threw his cigarette away and put both hands in his pockets. “Pansetta’s easy as hell, man!”

XXVIII. CHICAGO

CHICAGO, ILL.
May 16, 1918

Dear Sandy:

Have just come home from work and am very tired but thought I would write you this letter right now while I had time and wasn’t sleepy. You are a big boy and I think you can be of some help to me. I don’t want you to stay in Stanton any longer as a burden on your Aunt Tempy. She says in her letters you have begun to stay out late nights and not pay her any mind. You ought to be with your mother now because you are all she has since I do not know what has happened to your father in France. The war is awful and so many mens are getting killed. Have not had no word from Jimboy for 7 months from Over There and am worried till I’m sick. Will try and send you how much money you need for your fare before the end of the month so when school is out in june you can come. Let me know how much you saved and I will send you the rest to come to Chicago because Mr. Harris where I stay is head elevator man at a big hotel in the Loop and he says he can put you on there in July. That will be a good job for you and maybe by saving your money you can go back to school in Sept. I will help you if I can but you will have to help me too because I have not been doing so well. Am working for a colored lady in her hair dressing parlor and am learning hairdressing myself, shampoo and straighten and give massauges on the face and all. But colored folks are hard people to work for. Madam King is from down south somewhere and these southern Negroes are not like us in their ways, but she seems to like me. Mr. Harris is from the south too in a place called Baton Rouge. They eat rice all the time. Well I must close hoping to see you soon once more because it has been five years since I have looked at my child. With love to you and Tempy, be a good boy,