With awakened curiosity Miller followed the direction of the negro's
glance, and saw that it rested upon a window where Captain McBane sat
looking out. When Miller looked back, the negro had disappeared.
At the next station a Chinaman, of the ordinary laundry type, boarded
the train, and took his seat in the white car without objection. At
another point a colored nurse found a place with her mistress.
"White people," said Miller to himself, who had seen these passengers
from the window, "do not object to the negro as a servant. As the
traditional negro,--the servant,--he is welcomed; as an equal, he is
repudiated."
Miller was something of a philosopher. He had long ago had the
conclusion forced upon him that an educated man of his race, in order to
live comfortably in the United States, must be either a philosopher or
a fool; and since he wished to be happy, and was not exactly a fool, he
had cultivated philosophy. By and by he saw a white man, with a dog,
enter the rear coach. Miller wondered whether the dog would be allowed
to ride with his master, and if not, what disposition would be made of
him. He was a handsome dog, and Miller, who was fond of animals, would
not have objected to the company of a dog, as a dog. He was nevertheless
conscious of a queer sensation when he saw the porter take the dog by
the collar and start in his own direction, and felt consciously relieved
when the canine passenger was taken on past him into the baggage-car
ahead.
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