MISMANAGEMENT AND OTHER TROUBLES 65 
I wanted to find out how I stood. I saw Boston about 
fifteen or sixteen times after the bank closed, and I waited 
and waited and waited, till at last I went to the bank to 
see about my book. I could not find Boston in, but I said 
to the clerk there, “Do you know how Watkins’ account 
is?” He looked at the book and said, “Yes, you have 40 
cents.” I said, “Forty hells.” He said, “Yes.” Said I, 
“What will I do?” Said he, “I don’t know.” I said I 
never had any money and asked him to tell me where I 
could find Boston. He told me where to find Boston, 
somewhere on “E” Street, below the Patent office, and 
there I found Boston. I went in and commenced pulling 
off my coat to fight him right away. I said, “Boston, 
what is the meaning of this that I have only forty cents 
in the bank.” His face got white and said he, “Mr. 
Watkins, I drew it out.” “Hell,” said I, “you drew it out 
and told me nothing about it?” “Well,” said he, “I will 
fix that all right.” The bank was to pay a dividend in two 
or three weeks’ time, and he said, “I will pay you a divi- 
dend on the 15th of next month.” Said I, “Jesus Christ, 
I do not know what to do with you.” The clerk at the 
bank showed me the checks on which the money was 
drawn, but, of course, I did not know one check from the 
other . . . I could not get anything out of Boston. . . . 
[Before the bank was closed] I said, “Mr. Wilson, I 
don’t want to get closed up in this concern. A man in this 
town unless he has money, is not worth more than a dog. 
I have worked hard night and day, for this money, and 
so has my wife, and it should not be closed up in this way.” 
He said, “You see that Treasury over there, don’t you?” 
I said, “Yes.” “Well,” said he, “there is no more chance 
of this bank closing or bursting than there is of that 
Treasury.” I said, “If that is so, it is all right.” He said, 
“It is just prejudice that white people have got against 
us.” Then I made myself contented. My heart went down 
and I went to work. There the matter stood, and only 40 
cents on my pass book to my credit. They did not rob my 
boy’s book. When I was loaning money to Boston, I sup- 
posed it was all right as he was cashier of the bank. 1 
supposed he owned it all himself. I did not know. . . .