thropy, and it was the intention of its founders to assist the South in its enormous task of elevating the AfroAmericans, but Dothan society, and Florence Ashley in particular, made no pretense of hiding their contempt for this species of unwelcome and to them wholly unnecessary benevolence.

It was only about a mile from the lonely spot where Jefferson found the negro to Dothan, but it seemed a long distance to the youth, and as he came nearer town and heard some of the comments by passers-by on his appearance he almost regretted his humanitarianism.

However, he was not the man to quit in either a love suit or in a work of mercy, and his travels had given him a certain confidence in himself which enabled him to return a defiant look to the angry glares that some Dothan citizens darted at him.

Stopping in front of the first hotel he saw he again lifted the almost unconscious man in his arms and carried him through the open doors into the hotel lobby. Before he had time to say a word he heard a rough voice exclaim: "Get out of here with your black dog!" and the hotel keeper came from behind his desk with an angry glare and threatening gestures.

"This poor devil needs a doctor right away or he is a dead man. Let me lay him on the floor till I call a doctor to dress his wounds."

"Get out of here, I tell you!" yelled the now thoroughly aroused hotel man. "Get out of here! Let the black devil die. We don't need him. No niggers can enter my hotel."

There were two or three others in the hotel lobby, and after they had gotten over their first astonishment at Jefferson's audacity, they began jeering at him also. The young man quickly dropped his burden on the floor

and whipping a revolver out of his pocket he pointed it directly at the hotel keeper, saying with stern emphasis and a look of fury:

"Call up a doctor to come here at once or, by God, you're a dead man.”

There was a gleam almost of madness in Jefferson's eyes, and the hotel man cowered like a struck dog.

"Hurry!" commanded the youth, standing over the prostrate black form and awing with his menacing looks the others in the lobby.

The landlord, thoroughly frightened, with trembling hands rang the telephone and summoned a doctor.

"Stand behind your desk, sir!" again commanded Jefferson, when the hotel man tried to pass out of a side door to the street. In a few moments the doctor appeared and took in the situation at a glance. Without a word he began to gently dress the gaping wounds in the negro's head and body, Jefferson all the while standing guard with his revolver.

It took the doctor over twenty minutes to bind up the wounds in a hasty manner, and all this time the selfappointed guardian of the African refused to allow landlord or guest in the hotel to move.

When he had finished his merciful ministry, the physician said quietly:

"I know this man. I will take him to his home. He is Nafti's father. Nafti works for me."

Somewhat surprised, but greatly relieved, Jefferson turned over the African to the kind-hearted physician. His brief term of office as a helper of the negro in Alabama had quickly revealed what older men have known for a long time, that the fate of the African in the world seems to be to make white men quarrel over him. After helping the patient, who had now somewhat revived,

into the doctor's buggy, Jefferson returned to the hotel, threw a $5 note on the desk and started out.

The hotel man had somewhat recovered himself and with an oath he pushed back the bill, saying: "I don't want your money, you white nigger."

Jefferson never knew himself just what happened after that. The insult stung him to madness. He rushed at the hotel man, threw him on the floor and seemed about to crush the life out of him when the frightened bystanders interfered. Jefferson became calmer. "You can thank your stars you are a living man," he hissed sternly to the prostrate hotel keeper. "You have a heart blacker than the skin of a negro."

Without another word, and leaving the money lying on the floor, he strode out of the hotel, mounted his horse and galloped away. He escaped just in time, for a large crowd quickly gathered, and had Jefferson been there a riot must have resulted.

One spark

A

Great events often hang on small causes. of fire has destroyed a great city. A few thoughtless words have ruined a most promising political career. small book, written by a woman, has been the occasion of one of the bloodiest wars in history, the final results of which will be as lasting as time. So this single act of unpremeditated mercy which Jefferson Lilly showed to a half-dead negro brought forth results which were astounding and which gave Dothan a world-wide name.