Still, it struck him that it would not be precisely the thing to call on
Cissie immediately after Tump's arrest. It might look as if--Then the
thought came that, as a neighbor, he should stop and tell Cissie of
Tump's misfortune. He really ought to offer his services to Cissie, if
he could do anything. At Cissie's request he might even aid Tump Pack
himself. Peter got himself into a generous glow as he charged up a side
alley, around to a rickety front gate. Let Niggertown criticize as it
would, he was braced by a high altruism.

Peter did not shout from the gate, as is the fashion of the crescent,
but walked up a little graveled path lined with dusty box-shrubs and
tapped at the unpainted door.

Doors in Niggertown never open straight away to visitors. A covert
inspection first takes place from the edges of the window-blinds.

Peter stood in the whipping dust, and the caution of the inmates spurred
his impatience to see Cissie. At last the door opened, and Cissie
herself was in the entrance. She stood quite still a moment, looking at
Peter with eyes that appeared frightened.

"I--I wasn't expecting to see you," she stammered.

"No? I came by with news, Cissie."

"News?" She seemed more frightened than ever. "Peter, you--you haven't--
" She paused, regarding him with big eyes.

"Tump Pack's been arrested," explained Peter, quickly, sensing the
tragedy in her thoughts. "I came by to tell you. If there's anything I