It was morning. Matthew opened his eyes slowly and stared at the high white walls. There were two blurs before him, one on either side. Gradually, as he shut his eyes and opened them again, they resolved themselves into two faces. Then he knew them. One was Perigua; the other was Jimmie’s little black wife. Where was he? He strove to sit up. He was in a hospital. He wanted to rage. He wanted to tell Perigua and everybody that he was a murderer. Poor Jimmie, poor little wife and baby! Perigua⁠—revenge! All these things he strove to say, but the nurse glided by and stopped him. She gave him something to drink, and he fell asleep. + 

Three days later he left the General Hospital, and he and Perigua and Jimmie’s wife met together in a big brown house on Fourth Street. He poured out his story, and they listened. Perigua said nothing. But the little wife put her hand timidly in his and said: “You are not to blame. It was not your fault.” And then she added: “We had the funeral here in Cincinnati. I wish you could have been there. There were beautiful flowers. But they would not open the coffin. They would not let me see his face.” And she repeated, looking up at Matthew: “They did not let me see his face.” + 

Then Perigua said: + 

“He didn’t have no face.” + 

There rose a shriek in Matthew’s throat. It struggled and surged, and broke to horrid silence within him. The hot tears burned in his eyes. Something died in Matthew that day. He put all his savings into the little mother’s hand and pushed her gently out the door. + 

“Goodbye,” he said, and “God forgive me!” + 

Perigua sat down and smoked, and silently showed him newspaper clippings. + 

Christmas had passed. The Klan was holding its great meeting in Chicago, and the papers were full of news about it and of pictures of the members. They seemed to be making a new campaign against the Catholic Church; they had apparently dropped the fight on Jews; but they were concentrating on a campaign against colored peoples throughout the world, and the world was listening to them. Moreover, they were adroitly seeking to pit the dark peoples against each other⁠—Japanese against Chinese; Indians against Negroes; Negroes against Arabs; Mulattoes against Blacks, They even had certain Japanese and other Asiatic guests! + 

“That special train will return in triumph next Monday,” said Perigua finally, looking at Matthew, gloomily. + 

Matthew brooded. “We must do something, Perigua,” he said; “we must do something⁠—something startling.” + 

Perigua bent forward and glowed. “Something to make the world sit up!” + 

“Yes,” said Matthew, “and my plan is this: I’m going to write and demand a meeting of the national officers of the Porters’ Union in Chicago. I’ll attend and tell my story of Jimmie’s lynching and demand a nationwide strike of porters until somebody is arrested for this crime.” + 

Perigua’s face fell. “Hell!” he said. + 