halt, sliding, clinching back, jarring, and then suddenly stopping as roughly as they had begun. It was over. Rayber was jarred that it was over so soon. For a second--as if they were expecting him to go on--no one said anything.
Then, "How many yawl gonna vote for Boy Blue!" the barber yelled.
Some of the men turned around and snickered. One doubled over.
"Me," Roy said. "I'm gonna run right down there now so I'll be first to vote for Boy Blue tomorrow morning."
"Listen!" Rayber shouted, "I'm not trying...."
"George," the barber yelled, "you heard that speech?"
"Yessir," George said.
"Who you gonna vote for, George?"
"I'm not trying to...." Rayber yelled.
"I don't know is they gonna let me vote," George said. "Do, I gonna vote for Mr. Hawkson."
"Listen!" Rayber yelled, "do you think I'm trying to change your fat minds? What do you think I am?" He jerked the barber around by the shoulder. "Do you think I'd tamper with your damn fool ignorance?"
The barber shook Rayber's grip off his shoulder.
