UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LILY BOOKS BY HUGH WILEY JADE, and Other Stories LADY LUCK THE WILDCAT LILY LILY By HUGH WILEY NEW YORK ALFRED A KNOPF 1922 COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. Published, October, 192:8 Bet up, electrotypes, and printed by t\t Tail-Ballou Co., Bino*amton, If. 7. Paper furnished by W. F. Ether ing ton & Co., New York. Bound lv H. Wolff Estate, New York. MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA TO GEORGE HORACE LORIMER LILY CHAPTER I "Lookin* ahead you kaint depend On whut's waitin', Mebbe Heaven lays roun' de bend, Mebbe Hell an' Satan." TO the Wildcat in San Francisco the world and all things therein were middlin' good. The scheme of life was benevolent. Old Man Trouble appeared on the scene often enough to supply a black back ground for the noble radiance of Lady Luck's smile, but with two days balanced on the knife- edge of midnight the Wildcat figgered that the griefs of yesterday would be offset by the joys of to-morrow. At the eleventh hour Lady Luck had smiled and then her smile had turned to laughter and part of the record of her favor lay in crumpled banknotes in the inside pocket of the Wildcat's yaller striped vest. 'He had no coat, for the coat had been a gaudy affair adorned with the insignia of the Temple of Luck, and he had 9 10 LILY sluffed this along with the cares of yesterday when he came aboard the New Orleans bound Empire with his mascot goat. Down in the basement of the ol' iron boat the Wildcat leaned comfortably against a stanchion and watched Lily eat the last few fragments of a wide yellow sash which had gone with the office of Soopreem Leader of the Temple of Luck. He leaned heavily for a while, and then, surrendering to gravity and to a natural instinct, he sogged down comfortably with his back against the iron post and did the best he could to rest himself loose from the sediment of official care which had infested the day that was past. "Goat, lay off dem yaller tassels. Fust thing you knows you gits yo' stummick all braided up wid gol' an' silver wire. All right fo' clouds to have a silver lining goats is different. 'Spec' did you have yo' own way you nutrines yo' insides so heavy wid such truck dat you kaint walk de gang plank when us gits to Memphis whah oP Cap'n Jack is waitin'." "Blaa-a!" Lily replied, and in her answer was a protest against the Wildcat's supervision of her menu. In the first place the tassels were gratifying to the throat and ate easily, and in the LILY 11 second there was a satisfying flavor of shellac attached to the soopreem insignia. By the time the Wildcat had completed his oration nothing remained of the two pompous tassels except a small wooden button about the size of an after- dinner mint. On this confection Lily nibbled delicately with her front teeth. The Wildcat looked down and saw that his words had been unheeded. "All right, goat, it's yo j pussonal stummick, load it wid pig iron does you crave to, but remembeh, you gits no sympathy when de belly ache konkers you." A sudden memory of the good fortune that Lady Luck had showered down filled the Wild cat with charity toward his erring mascot and he reached in his pocket and hauled out a long cigar. He broke the cigar in two and held the long end toward Lily. "Heah you is, goat. Finish yo' banquet whilst I sees kin I sleep my self dreamless J til de oP boat man gits heah." While Lily munched thoughtfully on the shredded cigar the Wildcat curled himself up on the steel deck with his head propped between two sheltering angles of the stanchion and sailed away, three seconds later, into a placid estuary of the tranquil sea that lies beyond the troubled waters of life's realities. 12 LILY "I don't botheh work, work don't botheh me, I'se fo' times as happy as a bumble bee Eats when I kin git it, sleeps mos' all de time, I don't give a doggone if de sun don't neveh shine. "I kin ride a steamboat, I don't pay no fare, I kin ride a steamboat anywhere Dat's de reason I'se as happy as a bee, Me an* Lily's Memphis bound, Memphis, Ten-o-see." For an hour the Wilddat slept. A velvet footed bootlegger, prowling through the shipi with a rush order for one of the engineers on duty at that hour, passed the sleeping figure and accorded him an intent look. With his pro fessional duty accomplished for the moment the bootlegging person retraced his steps and when he came again to the sleeping Wildcat he halted long enough to sweep the recumbent figure with a fan of light from the end of an electric torch. The Wildcat mumbled in his sleep when the light fell upon his face. "Eats when I kin git it, sleeps mos' all de time " In the dark the bootlegger stooped over and un fastened the three upper buttons of the Wild cat's vest. "Sure handy for me that you do." The bootlegger's hand came back from the vicinity of the Wildcat's left-hand pocket clutch ing a moist roll of greenbacks. Five seconds LILY 13 later the Wildcat's right-hand pocket had been relieved of its contents, and then with the cash prize safely in his possession the agent of OP Man Trouble fled noiselessly along the steel deck until he came to a companion-way up which he escaped. This was new stuff to the mascot goat. It seemed to Lily that perhaps the business of ab stracting green slips of paper from her master's inside pocket might be right and regular, and then it occurred to her that perhaps the Wildcat would be interested in the process. She bleated faintly once or twice in an effort to awaken her master and failing in this she lowered her head and rammed him once heartily in the vicinity of his hip pocket. "Blaa-a! Wake up!" "Goat, lay off me! What you mean bustin' mah sleep in two. Fo' two bits I'd sell you to some farm boy whah you could kill yo'se'f eatin'." The mention of the two bits reminded the Wildcat of the ponderous fortune which Lady Luck had showered upon him. Mechanically his right hand sought the pockets of his vest which had so lately bulged with currency. "Lawd gawd! How come! Lemme see. 14 LILY Wuz I dreamin' money no suh ! Dat wuz real. Had me dem greenbacks. Heah I is wid no more cash dan a vet 7 ran has bonus. Somebody met me." He looked around him in the half light. For a moment he was on the point of raising an alarm and then, realizing the futility of such a course, he succumbed to the poor consolation of singeing Lady Luck's tail feathers with enough red hot language to melt the north pole. "Leave me meet dat woman! Dat's all I craves. Heah us is 'cept fo' de shoe five, plum' bust! No mo' cash dan a fish has feet. . . Wish oP Cap'n Jack was wid me." It took all of five minutes for the old-time philosophy to rise superior to his misfortune* "Easy come, easy go. Neveh seed no easy money yet whut wuz mixed wid glue. No money neveh sticks 'less you mixes it wid sweat. Kaint do no prancin' now when us gits to Memphis. Aimed to prance some befo' I settles down wid ol' Cap'n Jack. Dis means us does de askin* 'stead of de tellin' dat's all." He looked down at his mascot goat. "Goat, who eveh tol' you you is a kin to luck*? 'Cept in' I might need you fo' eatin' purposes I barbecues you right now and scatters you to de fish, Don't tell me you LILY 15 brings luck, you is plain hoodoo. OP Man .Trouble is yo' pussonal pappy." Thereafter for ten minutes the Wildcat sogged down in a crumpled heap on the deck and nursed his grief. "Doggone dis money bizness, money ain't nuthin' 'less you spends it. Jes' havin' money don't mean no mo' dan havin' a race horse wid a busted laig, 'less you races him he ain't no race horse. 'Less you spends yo' money when you gits it it ain't money no mo' dan a egg is fried chicken. . . . Lady Luck, heah us is. I craves me one redeemin' slug of strengthenin' gin. I feels low." Forthwith, slowly and painfully, with his bat tered philosophy heaving under the dead weight of the recent financial calamity, the Wildcat struggled to his feet. Leading Lily, he began a prowl in search of alcoholic optimism. He wandered forward, stepping high over the sills of two bulkheads, until he came to the crew's quarters. Here, about one end of a long table, were gathered six poker-playing members of the Dog Watch. The Wildcat knew enough about poker to delay his interruption until the last hand of the deal was revealed. When this had been accomplished he voiced his plaint. He aimed it in the general direction of the game but he 16 LILY addressed no one in particular : "Cap'n suh, could yo' all tell me whah us could 'cumulate a slug o' likker?' "What's that?" "The misery is trompHn' me. Us craves mebbe two slugs o' gin to help us live till de sun shines." "All the white mule you want at two bits a slug right across from the pier where we are tied up." "You mean dat Happy Home place 4 ?" "That's it. Get all you want there unless the raiding squad has made its evening visit." The Wildcat resolved to take a chance on -the police. He mounted the steel stairway with Lily leaping behind him, and in the shadows of the long interior of the pier against which the Empire lay he made his way toward his goal. Midway of the pier he stopped and from a recess in his shoe he fished the lone fragment of the night's accumulation of cash, a five-dollar bill, stored there with an instinct derived from long years of experience with the whims of Lady Luck. With the currency clenched in his hand he trotted across the wide cobbled area of the Embarcadero. With Lily at his heels, he headed for the bright lights above which hung the name LILY 17 plate of the New Home institution where cigars, cigarettes, coffee and soft drinks could be dis dained by those who were able to overcome the bartender's denial of illicit possessions. In the Happy Home, weaving under the cor rugated reflectors that threw back the light from the red incandescents, was a dancing group of men and women of the Wildcat's color. On a platform facing the bar a four-piece orchestra, led by a slip-horn artist, crooned a rhythm whose intermittent reverberations were scarcely audible outside of the walls of the building. In his de mands the Wildcat modulated his voice until it approximated the tones of the whispering orches tra. "Us craves gin. I'se a Memphis boy sailin* on de Empire. Craves gin bad, ben hit heavy wid grief." The proprietor of the place, serving behind the bar, gave the Wildcat a long look, and then, without the preliminary motion of uncorking a bottle and pouring a drink therefrom being visible above the bar except in a slight undulation of the shoulder muscles of his right arm, he set a glass in front of the Wildcat. The glass was an ordinary tumbler and it was filled nearly to the brim with a clear white liquid. "Four bits." The Wildcat flicked the five-dollar bill across \ 18 LILY the bar in response to the demand and almost before the greenback had quit sliding the cargo of cheering liquor had splashed its way down to the cheer-craver's equator. The Wildcat batted his eyes five times in suc cession and then squinted them in an ecstasy of doubt which endured for five seconds. Then on his face bloomed a wide smile studded with glit tering teeth. "Hot dam! Sho' noble likker, Shoot de otheh barrel." The second barrel of the gin gun was fired and another fifty-cent piece nestled in the cash register of the Happy Home. The Wildcat looked around him and his eyes fell on the trombone player who at the moment was reaching almost to the ceiling for a low note. "Lawd gawd, look at dat agile boy reapin' de rags. Lily, as you is, whilst I sees does mah feet track." The Wildcat stepped a pace from the bar and led his feet down a dog-walk lane until he was satisfied as to their tracking abilities. "Dey remembers whut I learned 'em. Wish dese dawg- gone shoes was soft, I might unkink a step." He turned again to the bar and another fifty- LILY 19 cent piece clicked its message to the proprietor of the Happy Home. The Wildcat straightened to his full height to give his third drink a clear track. "Whuff ! Lady Luck, I hears you singin' soft an' low. Three strikes an' out fo' OF Man Trouble. Sho' is noble likker." He turned to the bartender. "Whut name does it go by?" "Dat's plain mule, plain white mule." By the time the Wildcat had purchased an other span of plain white mules the ceiling lights were glowing crimson and the laughing trombone was a mile away. When the last fragment of the five-dollar bill had been spent the Wildcat was suddenly engulfed in a tidal wave sprinkled with earthquakes. With the mascot goat be side him he reclined on a chair in the corner of the room. For a while he watched the undulat ing procession of weaving contortionists passing in review before him and then, with his lower jaw sagging something less than a foot, he was asleep and a million miles away from the slings and arrows with which OP Man Trouble chas tised the favorite of Lady Luck whenever he got a chance. Midway of the Wildcat's dreaming it seemed to him that the laughing trombone indulged in 20 LILY a raucous note. Subconsciously he wondered "How come the easy playin' slip-horn boy so loud." It was not the trombone however which had boomed the heavy note into the dawn, but the clearing signal from the siren of the New Orleans bound Empire. When the Wildcat awakened the ship that would have carried him to New Orleans on the first leg of his journey back to Captain Jack was fifty miles clear of the Golden Gate. "Lady Luck, heah us is. Whuff ! Sho' craves me some cold drinkin' wateh. Come 'long, Lily. I feels blazin' inside." CHAPTER II THROUGH the long morning hours the Wildcat plodded his way toward Lincoln Park where, from experience born of the immediate past, he knew that golf-shooting gentle men provided silver enough, in return for caddy service, to enable a boy to eat. "Come 'long, Lily, us craves rations. De only way you gits nutrified in dis town is wid money. Us lugs a li'l bag 'roun' an' roun' fo' de white folks an' gits a doll ah, den us eats heavy. Seems like I ain't et fo' de longest time." The enterprise was successful and in the early evening the Wildcat, in possession of a dollar, sought to smother his troubles in a ration-gorg ing contest at a table in a Sutter Street restaurant much frequented by members of his race. Some craves possum, some craves ham, Pusson'lly I don't give a damn, Jes' so it's nllin' 'at's all I care, Catfish, rabbit, cinnamon bear. 21 22 LILY Ain't no leavin's when I feeds, Stummick an' appetite's all I needs. Lemme eat till I eats my fill Long as I kin pay de bill. Gimme room an' start me fust, I'll be eatin' when de otheh boy's bust. Across the table from the Wildcat, full to the neck and treading water until his grub-gorging acquaintance might bust his pussonal stummick, sat a new-found friend who, inspired by a little streak of luck, had declared himself the Wild cat's host for the evening. The friendship had ripened when the Wildcat had recited a record of his valorous days in the A. E. F. and after he had followed it with a recital of his subsequent adventures. "Dat's all, Gimlet. Heah us is, waitin' fo' Lady Luck to rally 'round." The Wildcat swept a piece of bread around his plate and carried it to his munching jaws. "How come folks calls you Gimlet*?" "De boys called me dat fust becuz I wuz so spindlin' built." For the time being, as far as absorbing rations was concerned, the spindling built host was only a passive witness whose bulging eyes surmounted a stomach bulging with food. The Wildcat continued to eat. Gimlet, with LILY 23 the normal anxiety of a host, reached into his pocket from time to time and audited his cash resources. Without knowing the exact figures, it appeared to Gimlet that the Wildcat was eat ing pretty close to the red side of the ledger. On his own money a boy had a perfect right to eat the lining out of his pocketbook, but where a host was introduced into the equation it seemed to Gimlet that the victim of the cash register's ringing knell was entitled to a little considera tion. He sought to distract the Wildcat from his munching orgy with conversation. The Wildcat synchronized a series of grunts to the regular mo tion of his lower jaw. Beyond this concession no evidence was available to prove that the Wild cat's ears were functioning except as overhang ing wings to steady the owner's cranium against the regular impact of sixteen lower teeth. After an hour of the innocent bystander busi ness Gimlet resolved to use force. "One mo' fried liveh, one mo' fish, one mo' ham wid gravy, one more enything an' I busts you in de haid. Mebbe you is human on de outside but you sho' shows hog blood from de skin down. Wilecat, befo' I kills you I tells you one mo' time to quit. Den I busts you wid a chair befo' 24 LILY you gits us 'rested 'count o' me not havin' enough money to pay de bill." Bam! Gimlet's fist hit the table and his voice lifted to Lily's startled bleating. "Wile- cat, fo' de las' time I tells you, quit befo' I quits you! Heah us is, me wid two dollahs an' you wid one, an' de las' I knowed as near as I could rigger you owes de restaurant boy fo' fifty. Mebbe you craves to work out two dol lahs in jail, not me. I tells you, quit befo' dey sends fo' de police." The Wildcat's ears wiggled a slight acknowl edgment, but he continued to eat for five minutes. Then, "Whuff !" and the Wildcat quit. He blinked heavily at Gimlet. "Boy, how come you gits so agitated jes' 'cause liveh an' ham is so popular wid mah pussonal stummick*? He fished around in his pocket and his hand came out clutching a five-dollar bill. "You thinks us is bust. Us ain't." Now, across the table, Gimlet's eyes did some bulging. "How come you has dis frog skin money?" "When de golf playin' man lef me he says, "Wilecat, you sho' done noble workin' on de golf links," and he gimme dis heah five dollah present 'long wid de dollah wages. Dat's de LILY 25 reason me and Lily eats whilst you 'dulges yo' neck wid words 'stead o' rations. Does a boy crave to talk 'at's his bizness. I always kin talk, kaint always eat. In rest' rants me an' Lily eats." The five-dollar bill reacted on Gimlet's ap petite. A moment before he was sure that he was fed up to the neck. Now he was equally positive that he was the victim of a famine. Visions of gravy dripping from great slices of ham half concealed by three or four splattered eggs came to his mind. His imagination leaped up the ladder of possibilities until it touched the chicken department. "Wilecat, has you et plenty 4 ? Kaint you eat jes' a li'l bit mo"?" "I neveh has et plenty. I wuz bawn un-et an* I'se been at way eveh since. I kin always eat mo'." Gimlet's memory galloped back through the years of his past and fastened upon some of the texts to which he had been exposed during the religious revivals which were epidemic in the country of his youth. From the words of the fur-bearing prophets he culled a series of texts to reinforce his new arguments. "Wilecat, heah us is, heah to-day an' gone to-morrow. Eat 26 LILY when you kin git it, dat's my motto. What de preacheh say 'bout howsomeveh a man standeth wid his foot on de banana peel an 7 great is de fall thereof no tellin' jes' whut minute sump- thin' happen to you. I claims whilst us has yo' five dollah bill us ought to eat. How 'bout some chicken?' Gimlet had landed on the one item which could promote a resumption of the Wildcat's gustatory activity. "Chicken! I'll say so! Chicken is de gratifyinist animal whut is. You eats 'em all de time, in de egg befo' dey's bawn an' afteh dey's daid." Ten minutes later a dejected looking fowl had been transported to the table. Thereafter for a little while conversation ceased. Then, with his back teeth full of chicken, Gimlet explored the recess of his open mouth and hauled forth a wish bone which had once adorned the skeletal struc ture of the recent victim of the feast. "Heah's de wishbone, see who gits de luck. Take dat end. I keeps hold o' dis. Ready. Short man wins. Pull !" Snap! The Wildcat pulled the long end. "Doggone, Lady Luck! Whah at is you 1 ?" "You loses mi thin' but yo' luck. You got de LILY 27 chicken ain't you, an' de five dollah bill. Pay de boy an' le's go." The Wildcat stood up. "To-morrow I takes you to de golf links an' mebbe us 'cumulates five mo' dollahs. Den us comes back heah. Dat chicken sho' was noble." "Naw suh! Wilecat, git some otheh boy fo' dat golf bizness wid dem golf playin' gemmum. Sho' grieves me to leave you an' Lily but bizness befo' pleasure, dat's my motto. I'se busy wid mah bizness f'm now on. Gits two fo' one. I'se in de chu'ch bizness. Pays betteh dan golf. I tol* you 'bout de chu'ch what's been instigated in Oaklan'. Las' week the yaller preacheh whut started de chu'ch took up a buildin' fund. Us early joiners gits two fo' one. You puts up a dollah an' draws out two de month afteh. Us active members contribute fifty dollahs apiece an* nex' month us draws out a hund'ed." "Whah at's de money come f'm to pay you?" "Boy sells some mo' stock in de chu'ch." "You sounds like a fool." "Mebbe I is. I banks on de preacheh. OP head boy acts like he knows whut he's doin'. He's paid high as ten- to-one on some o' de chu'ches he started in Tennessee." 28 LILY "Whut part o' Tennessee does he act like*?" "Acts like a Memphis boy, 'ceptin' he ain't so tame." "Tall skinny boy?' "MiddlinV "Long black coat an' yaller shoes?" "You knows him?" "Slouch hat an' a big mouf full o' white folks words?" " 'At's him." "I'll say I knows him. Gimlet, I'se got dis heah goat whut I wouldn't trade fo' a million dollahs, but I bets Lily dat de head o' yo' bizness is dat upliftin' Honeytone Boone. Seems like whah at I goes dat boy's on mah trail. Fust I meets up wid him in France whah us boys in de Fust Service Battalion got exposed to his preachin' up to de time me an' de Backslid Baptis' cleaned him wid de bones. Den he comes back to Memphis an' got himself 'gaged to marry Miss Cuspidora Lee. He played dat way till he meets up wid his wife. Las' I knowed he was headed fo' jail afteh leavin' me wid de Temple of Luck on mah hands. 'At sho' is Honeytone. You betteh bid yo' money goodbye. Chances is he lef' Oakland de same day you boys donates." LILY 29 "Wilecat, I starts afteh dat boy now. I knows whah at I kin locate him. When I meets up wid him I barbecues him. Mebbe I don't cut him up complete but anyway I carves mah fifty dollahs' wuth of meat loose f'm his carcass. Nex' time I sees you, Wilecat, I has mah fifty dollahs or else fo' pounds o' steak whut I carves off f'm dat Honey tone nigger." I heah you grieve, I heah you sigh You spent yo' money wild an' free You betteh leave. Bid me goodbye, You ain't spent none on me. Be on yo' way jes' say farewell Ramble, 'cause I'se locked de door. You blew yo' pay now go to hell, An' don't come back no more. (Miss Cuspidora Lee to Honey tone.) Honeytone Boone headed west from Memphis at a rate which kept him one state ahead of his reputation and landed him finally in Oakland. En route, with the ease of a skin-sluffing snake, he changed his name wherever, for the moment, he might be located. Arrived on the Pacific Coast, festooned in a Prince Albert coat and all of the external para- 30 LILY phernalia of a brunet soul-snatcher, he drifted to a distant corner of Oakland in search of a congregation upon whom he might shower the up lifting influence of his pay-as-you-enterprise. On the week following Honeytone's arrival, when the political leaders of the Bourbon Party were wrestling with the problem of selecting some champion in whose hands the destiny of the state might be placed, one of their scouts dis covered Honeytone perspiring copiously and lecturing an improvised religion into the quiver ing ears of a hypnotized brunet congregation. The political scout, out for whatever brunet votes might be swung from the Old Line, ap proached Honeytone at the close of his sermon. "Mister speaker, what's your politics?" Honeytone, flattered, launched into an elabo rate statement of his political philosophy. Start ing with life, liberty and the pursuit of happen ings, he rambled through an incoherent recital of the vocabulary which he had absorbed at the college where he traded common sense for a superficial education. Midway of his discourse the politician inter rupted him. "You've got some influence with these fellows in your church here. Stand up and LILY 31 preach a line of our policies into them and you get twenty dollars a day for it." Honeytone would have preached anything for twenty dollars a day. He immediately ne gotiated a verbal contract for two days' cash in advance. Thereafter his several audiences which had rallied for a shot of fire-proof religion went away carrying some of the political complexities of Honeytone's heated intellect. On the third night he warmed up to his sub ject and polished up his list of stock phrases, and with the song of his words hypnotizing the ears of another politician, Honeytone's vocab ulary won a home. The scout filed his report with the Committee on Orators and Honeytone was summoned to a larger field of effort in San Francisco. Addressing his new congregation, on the day following Gimlet's departure in search of four pounds of the meat of revenge, Honeytone en gaged himself in putting his vocal organs over the water-jump in the interest of the political party which had hired him. Meanwhile, just above his galloping tongue, his bump of self- importance enlarged under the clattering impact of his own voice. At the conclusion of his mental 32 LILY flight the mantle of self-satisfaction settled com fortably about his shoulders. With the pur chased applause that reached his ears came the pride which goeth before a fall. 3 How come you leave me, Honeytone? Ain't de money I craves it's you. Tell me to mah face, don't telephone Jes' tell me why you blew. When I mentions dat wile boy's name Tell me whah at does he roam, Den tell his folks to come an' claim De leavin's an' to haul 'em home. In Oakland the meat hunting Gimlet prowled around on the trail of the departed Honeytone. The invariable result of Gimlet's inquiries were answers to the effect that Honeytone had left for unknown fields of effort wherein he might practice the beneficent philosophy which, when applied to the brunet portion of the human race, invariably resulted in a hypnotic trance that left the victim long on ideas and short on cash. At a barber shop where the religious leader was wont to trade a little uplifting language for an occasional shave the proprietor of the establish ment informed him that the soul-snatcher had de- LILY 33 parted for San Francisco. "De boy claims de Bourbons crave to have him speak at a big meetin' dis afternoon an 7 again to-night." All de Old Line niggers in San F'mcisco meets in de street 'longside de Palace Hotel whah at dey hold a gran' rally whilst de white folks talks it oveh in de banquet room inside de hotel. Does you know Honeytone*?" "I knows him fifty dollahs wuth whut I 'vested in de new chu'ch. Palace Hotel, you say*?" "I says. Chances is you meet up wid him right now." "Fse on mah way." Gimlet, seeking a forced refunding of his in vestment, left the barber shop and started for San Francisco. CHAPTER III AT three o'clock in the afternoon, on the day following his first meeting with Gimlet, gorged on thirty-six holes of golf at Lincoln Park, the Wildcat left his two golf players and decided to call it a day. His duties ended, with Lily at his heels, he retraced the length of the eighteenth fairway until he came to the wooded space between the eighteenth tee and the seventeenth green. Here was a place to rest. Rest to the Wildcat was ever welcome. He flopped down in the shade of a row of cedars and for a while his eyes rested on Lily who was engaged in cutting the grass with her front teeth. "Go 'head, 'sorb yo' ra tions while the 'sorbin' is free. Some day you gits whah they ain't nuthin' but sand. Den you misses dis green grass. Sho' is a noble country. "I eats when I kin git it I sleeps mos* all de time " Presently the sunlight striking low along the 34 LILY 35 ground warmed the Wildcat and sleep came to him. Lily foraged for a while near her master and then, in widening circles, her exploring ap petite sought the greener pastures that stretched to the edges of the seventeeth green. Here was dessert, and for a while the mascot partook of French pastry and ice cream disguised as green and succulent grass. Her early mathematical training was completely forgotten and for the time she ate as if the lawn had length and breadth but no thickness. Finally with a faint bleat she sought her siesta. In the dark shadows of a wooded area, lying back a little way from the terrain of her foraging expedition, she pene trated a growth of brush which lay in her path. Then she dived into the obscurity of a space about which ranged the dark trunks of a hundred branching cedars. In this sanctuary the mascot suffered the surprise of her life. She saw a pair of phosphorescent green eyes set in a long head. The eyes glowed a foot from the ground. Back of the eyes, stretching its sinuous length, lay a serpentine neck which bridged the gulf from the head of the unknown to its massive body. Before vision and understanding had accom plished in her eyes Lily gave vent to her fright. 36 LILY A hundred feet away from Her the Wildcat, sleeping soundly, received on his subconscious tympanum his mascot's call for help. He con tinued to sleep. In a moment Lily's eyes widened to the ob scurity about her. Then she saw that from the serpentine neck bulged a large irregular body from which extended four ungainly legs and a tail. The tail was minus hair except for a tuft at its extremity. It was then that Lily thanked the gods of the goat world that here before her was a mule and not a nightmare. Lily knew mules. Her prayer of thankfulness was uttered in a series of bleats which carried to the Wild cat's ears. Still the Wildcat slept. He was good at sleeping. The bleats served only to awaken a mild curi osity in the phosphorescent green eyes that bulged from the mule's cranium. For a week the mule had enjoyed the solitude of his fastness. Here was an annoying interruption. He brayed loudly. "Shut up! Let a fellow rest, can't you 4 ? What do you mean by coming here*?" Lily answered him in goat language. "Blaa-a! This is a public park. I've as much right here as you have." The mule shifted his position slightly in order LILY. 37 to display the official brand on a left hind leg. "U. S. see that?" he brayed. "I'm a govern ment mule; don't monkey with the government. That U. S. means un-safe, stay clear of that U. S. leg." The mascot was on the point of voicing her opinion of government mules in general and army mules in particular when she was restrained by a realization of the utter futility of such a course. "What are you doing here if you're an army mule*?" she asked. The government mule began to explain in pat ronizing brays that his presence in the rest-area was none of the inquirer's blasted business. Then a thought of the instability of human insti tutions came to him and his tone changed to terms of official courtesy. "Your inquiry will be re ferred to the Bureau of Personnel." Something grandiloquent and sonorous rang in the tones of the government mule. He flicked his tail vio lently and began to shift erasers and penholders around on the desk in front of him. Lily returned a caustic observation : "In other words you don't know where you're at." The army mule stopped switching his tail and brayed a reply. Then he was silent. Action became his motto. Lily scented trouble and beat 38 LILY him to it. Before the mule could launch his attack she landed heavily upon that part of the U. S. bray expert which was the last to get up. With a bleat of triumph the mascot galloped to ward the exit from the sheltering cedars. At her heels, lumbering along with his impediment of official dignity, followed the mule. Lily's course took her directly to the protecting pres ence of the Wildcat, who at the moment was doing the best he could to add another million dollars worth of sleep to that which had gone before. The procession, going sixty miles an hour, reached the Wildcat's side. "How come! What's de ruckus?" The Wild cat sat up and batted his eyes. Lily, advancing to that side of the Wildcat which was farthest away from the U. S. mule, explained the situa tion as best as she could with a series of staccato bleats. The mule caught sight of the Wildcat and instantly changed his tactics. In spite of his U. S. badge worn so proudly on his flank, he realized that here before him was superior authority. The mule had come from a long line of an cestors whose first principle in life was to rec- LILY 39 ognize ability when they encountered it. The Wildcat on the other hand never doubted his superiority over the four-legged assistants which he had steered on long cruises over the broad fields of the South. "Lily, how come! Mule, ca'm yo'se'f befo' I busts yo' haid off. Turn 'roun' theah." The Wildcat saw the brand of government upon the mule's flank. "U. S. how come you leave de ahmy an' go roamin' wild*? I spec' you is A. W. O. L. Comeovehheah! Stan' still, Stan' still till I gits back." The mule stood still. The Wildcat walked over to a rusted wire fence and broke there from a long strand of wire. By repeated twist- ings and bendings he secured a ten-foot piece of the wire and with this he returned to where Lily was standing guard near the mule's head. The Wildcat bent the piece of wire about the mule's neck and picked up the loose end of it, "Now you's captured, you doggone deserter. Dis is de hind end of yo j furlough, I spec' de ahmy's lookin' fo' you." The Wildcat's suspicions were correct. The Army was busy in a mad endeavor to recover its wandering mule. Down the road in the Pre sidio from whence the mule had escaped two 40 LILY weeks earlier, privates and corporals and sergeants and a vast array of officers gave no small part of their days to issuing orders, obeying orders, passing the buck, asking questions and answer ing them, and nearly all of their unusual activity concerned the loss of the official mule., The mule was a quartermaster-mule which had been loaned, without receipt, to an artillery officer who in turn had loaned him informally to an engineer officer whose sergeant had permitted a corporal to let a private ride him. The mule was about to become a National problem. The only satisfactory solution of the problem was at the moment walking along in surrender at the end of a piece of iron fence-wire which led to the clutching fingers of his captor. The Wildcat vaguely realized that the Pre sidio where the mule belonged was somewhere within walking distance. Once before in his West Coast career he had made the trip to the Presidio starting from Market Street, and now he shaped his course for Market Street, intending to use that recognized landmark as a point of de parture. Thus oriented he might intelligently re sume his exploration toward the Presidio. Before he had walked two blocks he had LILY 41 realized the folly of pedal exertion. "How come us all walks'? Mule, stan' steady 'till us gits aboard. Come heah, Lily. Dis jug-head carries double else I busts him wid a club." He boosted the mascot goat to a position on the mule and made a wild leap to the mule's back. A vigorous use of heels and violent lan guage eliminated the mule's natural indifference to progress. It was six o'clock when the trio drifted into Market Street. The six o'clock traffic interrupted the mule's meditation. At a point where two intersecting streets cut the broad central thoroughfare, traffic was boiling thickest, and it was here, in the throng of clanging cars, leaping automobiles and scurrying pedestrians, that the Wildcat attempted to aid and abet the mule's judgment of traffic conditions with a little more superheated lan guage. "Mule, /what ails you? Go ahead!" The mule went ahead only to escape an oncoming street car. "Look out for dese heah cars, dat's all I tells you."' The mule looked out for three or four cars and then met another down-town covey heading for the Ferry Building. A block above the Palace Hotel, with the 42 LILY Wildcat craning his neck about him at the shop windows and digging his heels into the mule's ribs, and with Lily perched on her precarious roost in an attitude of prayer, the mule grazed a bill-poster's wagon and bounced lightly from a flivver's fender. Then the brute stepped on his mental accelerator and made the next hun dred yards in a gallop. Thereafter his speed increased. Near the Palace Hotel the animal's velocity was something less than sixty miles a second. Then, blocking the cyclone's progress, there loomed a moving van. The mule swung sharply to the right, down the side street along the hotel. The Wildcat and Lily dived straight ahead to the pavement. About the side entrance to the hotel was grouped a muttering mass of brunet humanity. In his headlong dive from the erratic minded mule the Wildcat caught a glimpse of several hundred of his fellows, prominent among whom was Gimlet. Gimlet had located his victim, Lily, landing on her horns, expressed her opinion of mules in a bleat which combined physical distress and summary of the day's lesson in profanity. LILY 43 The mule charged at the packed mass of people before him. He discovered that they were of the Wildcat's color and swerved sharply to the right. This time, with three wild leaps, he gained the entrance to the hotel. He trotted meekly through the lobby and across the wide corridor. He galloped into the dining room wherein Honeytone Boone at the moment was doing the best he could to assure the white gentle men ranged around the banquet tables that the local representation of the colored race, to a man, had gone Bourbon. With the entrance of the galloping mule Honeytone lost his voice. The runaway, pursued by a rising chorus which included all of the inflammatory languages of Southern Europe, penetrated the long aisle be tween two branches of a horseshoe table. He stopped suddenly directly in front of Honey- tone Boone. The flow of oratory was for the moment choked by the rush of events. With an intelligence superior to that of many individuals of the human race who had listened to Honeytone the mule voiced his criticism of the speaker's final words in one long resonant bray. At the table of honor, apart from the speaker's 44 LILY table, a heavy-set gentleman in the uniform of an officer of the United States Army, his shoulders bright with the silver bars of his rank, smiled for the first time that evening. In the tumult about him the Q. M. Lieutenant was the only member of the assemblage who enjoyed enough self-control to sit still and enjoy the show. Meanwhile in the wake of the mule, and well beyond the intangible dead-line of the animal's heels, a flock of waiters gave each other advice, with gestures. The mule, having functioned as a critic of Honey tone's concluding remarks, turned sharply and retraced his steps. Before him the courage of the crowd melted in a solvent of safety-first. At the passageway where he had gained en trance to the horseshoe table the mule came face to face with the Wildcat. As the mule passed him the Wildcat grabbed for the animal's head and succeeded in draping himself around the mule's neck. The front end of the mule got tame but he took careful aim with his right hind leg and delivered one parting kick in the di rection of a Prussian waiter who had signed under the Swiss flag. "Mule, git ca'm befo' you wrecks de place. Ca'm yo'se'f." Lily augmented the Wildcat's admonition with a strenuous bleat. LILY 45 Deep in the chorus rumbled the Q. M Lieu tenant's personal advice to the mule. Under the combined influence of the trio the mule got calm. It was at that moment that the bar-bearing Lieutenant stepped from his place at the table and made his way to the Wildcat's side. The Lieutenant had recognized the solution of the problem which had been uprooting the normal calm which characterized the Presidio. "Son," he said quietly, "where did you get this mule?' The Wildcat stepped into the limelight. When white folks laughed and felt noble a boy did himself proud to stand where he wouldn't miss the gravy when the ham was being passed around. "Gin'ral 'suh, me an' mah mascot was medi- tatin' roun' in de shade up heah in de woods whah at de wild golfs roam. I wuz sleepin' me some while de sleepin' wuz free like, an' dis ol' mule an' Lily gits talkin' politics an' disputin' so loud dey wakes me up. Lily claims one thing. Mkile claims Lily lied. Mascot rams de mule whah at he sets down. Mule shoots a hoof at Lily. Misses Lily. I gits me a fence palin' an' pacifies dat mule th'ee or fo' times in de haid. 'Git ca'm, Mule! Bam!' OP mule shoots an- 46 LILY otheh hoof. Aims at whah I wuz. Misses whah I is. 'Mule,' I sez, 'Guilty.' Mule gits de verdick. I gits a new palin' off de fence. Big knot in one end. Dat's de mule's end de mis'ry end. I glides up like ol' snake. Slow- like. 'Woe, Mule,' I sez. I means trouble woe, not de stoppin' kind. Mule looks side ways, squinchin' like an' 'ceitful. OF mule squinch one eye. Takin' aim. Aim steady. Seed his undeh lip wiggle. Bad sign. Seed de 'U. S' on his laig. Knowed he was a 'tillery mule f'm de ahmy. I yells 'Fiah!' Mule squinch bofe eyes tight, waitin' fo' de gun to bang. Gun didn't bang. Nuthin' bang 'ceptin' de big knot in de fence palin'. 'Bam!' I give dat varmint bofe barr'ls. . . . Tail kink some when he lays down. After while he gits back on his laigs. Opens his eyes. Fust thing he sez when he seed me wuz, 'Yass suh, sergeant. Whut's de ordehs fo' de day 4 ?' 'You's 'rested/ I sez. 'Ten-shun!' Dat's all, gin'ral, suh. 'Ceptin' I marched dat ol' mule down heah whah at you was waitin' fo' us. Dat's all. Heah us is, suh." In the gin'ral's accents was a mixture of Dis tinguished Service medal, crown of glory, palm leaves, and personal relief. "Take him outside LILY 47 and hold him out there. After this banquet is finished we will take him back where he belongs." "Gin'ral, yaas suh! Mule, stan' 'roun'. Us aims to manage you fm now on!" The Lieutenant walked back to his seat and the oratory proceeded without further inter ruption except for the strenuous glances of rec ognition which flashed between the Wildcat and Honeytone Boone. The Wildcat led the mule outdoors. From the brunet throng ranged about him he summoned Gimlet. He created an open space with a single warning. "Men, stan' back fm us an' dis mule. Dem hind laigs sez U. S. dat means un-safe." In a lower tone he addressed Gimlet. "Guess dat wishbone's brought de luck! Dat's Honey- tone, inside. Last I knowed he was Old Line. Now he's speechin' uppity talk in whah de Bour bon white folks is. Hangin' close to de grub. Dat's Honeytone. When he comes out I gives you a howdy do. Den me an' de ahmy gin'ral leaves you. Me an' ol' gin'ral aims to drag dis mule back whah he comes fm. I guess you 'filliates wid Honeytone widout no mo' help f m me." "I'll say us does. Ol' wishbone sho' done noble." Resolution grated in Gimlet's words. 48 LILY 'Til say us 'filliates else Honeytone busts all de leavin' reco'ds eveh made by fast niggers." In a little while the Q. M. Lieutenant, fol lowed by Honeytone Boone and various other banquet guests, plowed his way out to the en trance of the hotel. When the Lieutenant reached the sidewalk the Wildcat and Lily and the mule were waiting for him. "Heah's yo' mule, gin'ral suh." .The army man smiled. "Get into the back seat of my car. Lead the mule. We'll drive to the Presidio." The Wildcat hesitated only a moment. He fixed Honeytone with his eye and summoned him with a quick gesture., "Honeytone, leave me interdooce mah oV fren' Gimlet. Mebbe you boys kin start some projec' togetheh," The Wildcat boosted the mascot goat into the Q. M. Lieutenant's car. Clutching the mule's wire halter he climbed to his seat beside the goat. On the curb Gimlet looked out of the corner of his eye at Honeytone. "Honeytone, howdy! I'll say us kin start sumpthin' projectin' togetheh. Whah at's mah fifty dollahs I 'filli?tes wid de chu'ch whut you starts*?" Honeytone began to explain. LILY 49 When the Q. M. Lieutenant's car turned into Market Street the Wildcat looked back. Honey- tone was no longer standing still. He was rac ing up the street one jump ahead of a hollow- ground finish. Following close in his wake, waving the wire-edge equalizer, leaped the gal loping Gimlet. The Lieutenant spoke to the Wildcat. "Son, you're a pretty lucky boy. There's a hundred dollar reward out for finding that mule." "Gin'ral, yaas suh !" The Wildcat got his last glimpse of the speeding Honey tone. "Us sho' is lucky, Gin'ral. Me an' Gimlet an' dis Lily goat is 'fested wid wishbone luck." CHAPTER IV IN one way and another Lady Luck was smil ing on the Wildcat. She had just booned him with a mule, A. W. O. L. from the Presidio. On the mule's scalp was a hundred- dollar bounty, but the luck the Wildcat craved most of all was the kind which would bring his Captain Jack back to him. Without Captain Jack to tell it to, reward-bearing mules meant nothing much to Lady Luck's favorite. Towing the truant mule from the Palace Ho tel to the Presidio, the Wildcat sogged down in the back seat of an army automobile and rested himself proud. "Mule luck is all right, noble to have dis hund'ed doll ah bonus whut de ahmy boys is givin* to pay me fo' ketchin' dis mule. Rations is all right, now an' den, an' a slug of Liza gin is noble when a boy feels downtrod, but nuthin' ain't nuthin' 'less ol' Cap'n Jack is whah at you is." San Francisco night was another fly in 50 LILY 51 the copious helping of the ointment of good for tune with which Lady Luck had been so gener ous. "Sho' be noble wuz it daytime 'stead of in de dark," he mumbled at Lily the mascot goat who was seated beside him. "Does folks see us riding in a automobile dey craves to meet up wid us. Some day wuz us bust some boy be proud to lend us money. Ainybody lend money to automobile ridin' folks, but does you walk you stays bust." "What's that? What did you say?" The Q. M. Lieutenant in the front seat of the car speared a question at the Wildcat. "Gin'ral suh, I wuz talkin' at dis otheh animil. Goat, how come you is so dumb? Answer me!" "Blaa-a !" Lily voiced a reply to her master's demand. "Mule all right?" In the Lieutenant's reiter ated inquiry, which had been repeated at three- minute intervals since the outfit started, there was something which suggested that the greatest good to the greatest number was all wrapped up in a four-legged jug-headed mule branded "U. S." on his left hind leg, and that the welfare of the nation depended on the safe delivery of the mule to the Presidio. 52 LILY "Gin'ral, yassuh! OP mule ramblin' like he done drunk some gin wid his supper." "Haw-wnk Eee Haw!" The trailer un- limbered a shattering chord into the fog of mid night. The Lieutenant massaged his quivering ear drums. ''That mule has a grand voice for the Signal Corps telephones." He turned again to the Wildcat: "Animal sounds all right. The stable sergeant will knock the bray out of him to-morrow. Mule has been A. W. O. L. for three weeks. Made a horrible mix-up in memorandum receipts and inventories." "Gin'ral, yassuh !" The Wildcat was brief. In the first place a boy generally stayed on better terms with Lady Luck if he didn't affiliate too intimately with white folks, and in the second place the army is the army, and the Wildcat had won his corporal's chevrons in the drafty days by sticking out his chest and strutting like a turkey gobbler and letting officers do most of the talking. In the third place he didn't know any more about memorandum receipts and inventories than a naval aviator. "De gin'ral's mule trou bles is his pussonal misery." Thereafter for a little while the Q. M. Lieu tenant rode in thoughtful silence, thankful for the LILY 53 pay-streak of good that had lightened the sombre country-rock of evil out of which the world and its inmates had been created in six working days of eight hours. Now that the lost mule had been roped into the fold the Lieutenant's ac counts were cleared and retirement with the pay vouchers at 75% of their pre- Volstead strength was feasible. The Lieutenant wondered if the Officers' Guessing Contest in the wood-fire room would be ended before his arrival. The hour was late but one never could tell how the cards would run. He pictured the scene that would ensue when he pulled the clicker on his little verbal grenade and cast it into the centre of a circle of gentlemen whose merry singing voices had been roughened by poker phrases, cigarettes, and stuff that might have aged ten years in the woods where the night- blooming bootleggers made it fresh every week. "Yaas indeed, gentlemen. Here's your damn mule! As far as I'm concerned Washington's official pain is ended." Retired List. Play. Travel. Comfortable Clothes. Golf. The Lieutenant's retrospective mind touched lightly upon a million dollar detail of the past. A million dollars' worth of A. E. F. property which had been lost. Property for which some 54 LILY sergeant had signed a memorandum receipt at a base port in France. He could forget those de tails. That was France. War! Here, clatter ing along at the end of an iron wire, clutched by the boy who had found him, was the nation's Lost Mule. The Lieutenant wondered if he might pry loose a D. S. medal for the colored hero. He decided that it was hardly feasible and that the hundred dollar reward posted by the stable sergeant would be ample payment. "Mule all right?' "Gin'ral, yassuh!" The Wildcat glanced back at the mule which was being towed along in the improvised noose of fence wire. A long review of the day's events drifted through the Wildcat's mind. "Neveh kin tell. Us begins wid grief dis mawnin' but dat ol' Gim let podneh sho' drug in de luck. , Meets up wid dis money mule and heah us is, Lady Luck an' Lily, me an' de mule, an' ol' gin'ral. Spec' us gits de money to-night fo' ketchin' dis ol' mule. Den look out raiment! Yaller shoes, cuttin' edge pants, sort of cloudy dove in shade. Sho' gits a necktie. An' a collah. Needs sumpin' in de shirt line to hitch de collah on so it kaint climb too high. Yaller necktie wid roosteh green LILY 55 spots. Mebbe stripes. Hard hat, cloudy dove favored like de pants. Noble socks, red like. Two socks. One fo' each foot. Bull blood color. Den me an' Lily steps out some. Fust us gits Lily a spo't blanket. Yaller favored. Bull blood stripes mebbe. When us meets up wid ol j Cap'n Jack us does him proud. In de meantime, Lady Luck, heah us is!" "Ah don't botheh work, work don't botheh me, I'se fo' times as happy as a bumble bee . . ." Until the Presidio gates loomed before them the Wildcat drifted into the twilight sleep coun try where Lady Luck's favorite son et his grub when he could git it and slep' mos' all de time, not caring a doggone, meanwhile, what happened to the sunshine. At the Presidio gates an Old Timer barked a challenge at the gleaming lights of the Q. M. Lieutenant's car. In the sentry's tone was the brevity that had come in the rain-drenched nights up the line in the A. E. F., but tempering the Guard's formal voice was a technical perfection which suggested a knowledge of who was out and when he'd be back. Gone was the "Wat tell, Buddie," absent the blue-pass bunk. 56 LILY "Off'cer th' post, corp'ral, colored civilian, one goat, an* one damn mule," the Lieutenant an swered. "Pass, circus, an* git to bed." The sentry re served this speech to himself but his rifle leaped into a military gesture which spelled open gates to the driver of the car. "Betteh not monkey wid us, Lily." The Wildcat in the back seat got proud and puffed out a sentence at his mascot goat. "Us folks sets noble an' rambles whah at us craves to go widout no oP sentry stoppin' us. Sho' settin' purty. Sho' doin' noble. De day come in bad. Tested heavy wid grief. Ends up wid money in de pocket an' de skillet thick wid grease. Neveh kin tell. Neveh kin see whut Lady Luck's gwine to do 'cept wid hindsight." His solilo quy trailed off into a song hummed softly into the night. In the song was some of the phi losophy that he had learned in Lady Luck's school. Lady Luck is waitin' whah you leas' especk, You ain't gwine to ketch her does you bus' yo' neck Res' an' take it easy, " A falsetto bleat from Lily seemed to voice the LILY 57 mascot's complete approval of the sentiment* "Blaa-a!" "Cut out that damn mumblin'." The Lieu tenant's tone suggested a volley at sunrise, "Mule all right?" "Gin'ral, yassuh! Neveh seed a mule mo' agile. Sho' beamin' wid health. Sho' spry. Spec' wuz one spry wuth a nickel dat mule is rich." The gin'ral got the first sentence abreast of the house on Officers' Row wherein burned the wood fire. From the room containing the round table whereon clicked the ante and across which rasped intermittent discards there gleamed a light. He turned to the driver. "Stop here. We'll get out here. That's all to-night. Good night." The Lieutenant got out of the car and entered the house. He returned a minute later leading a flying wedge of shirt-sleeved officers. Curi osity touched par and then about the Lieuten ant's shoulders was thrown a wreath of night- blooming congratulations. About the mule, at a respectful distance, ranged the gallery of ad mirers. "That Wildcat boy found him. Tell me! Always played a spade flush against the rest of the deck." 58 LILY The Wildcat stepped forward. A Lieutenant fired a question at him. "How'd you find him*? Where'd you locate the ramblin' prodigal*?" The Wildcat told his story until out of the peopled darkness Lily the mascot goat interrupted the tale. Officers' ears bulged open, readily re ceptive for the details of a kidnapping plot. "Baby! Where'd y' get 'urn? Reg'lar me nagerie." "Goat. Belongs to this boy." The Q. M. Lieutenant was quick to dispel his fellows' hopes for an elaboration of the night's adventure. "Mascot goat." The Lieutenant summoned an orderly from a somnolent post where the night-detail usually meant eight hours' sleep. "Take this man and this mule to headquarters," he directed. "Tell the sergeant-major to get a receipt for this mule from the stable sergeant and to credit my prop erty account. Tell him my orders are to give this Wildcat boy the hundred dollars reward posted for this mule's return. That's all. Wake 'em all up and get this business finished to-night. Get this four-legged deserter hobbled and hog-tied and haze him into the corral." The Lieutenant turned to the Wildcat: "Go LILY 59 with this man. The stable sergeant will turn the reward over to you. Goodnight." The Wildcat and his guide walked away, fol lowed by the mule. Close to the Wildcat's side, now and then glancing at her ancient enemy, Lily pattered along toward whatever future might await her. Down the interminable lengths of the Presidio streets, relieved now and then by narrow open spaces, clustered long rows of frame structures of unvarying architecture. Presently the quar tet came to the barracks wherein slept the re ward-offering stable sergeant. In a little while the mule returned to the company of his fellows and then, under a dim electric light, the Wild cat held out his hand and received therein five twenty-dollar bills and a pen. "Sign this re* ceipt." The Wildcat confessed his inability to sign his name. "To hell wid de papeh, sarge. Dat ain't no ahmy money." The matter of the receipt was waived. The advice relative to the receipt had been offered by a soldier of the Wildcat's color. When the Wildcat pocketed his roll this soldier 60 LILY looked at him intently for a moment. "You been in de ahmy, boy?" 'Til say so. Fust Service Battalion. Got me three goF stripes an' all de grief whut went wid 'em. Whah at kin I git on de right road leadin' down town. Me an' oF gin'ral sho' drug dat mule a long ways since midnight. Aims to git me a little sleep befo' mawninV "Come on wid me. I shows you." The Wildcat and his brunet companion wan dered into the night. Half way to the entrance gates of the Presidio the guide stopped. "Jes' thought mebbe you might crave a slug o' gin. I knows a place, back a ways, whah dey's a culled boy wid a outfit whut retails f m a bottle fo' two bits a dram." "All de way! All de way 'till us finds dat boy. How come you ain't said so befo'?" "Ponderin' whether you crove gin de most." "De most dan whut?" "Mo' dan de bone dance whah de clickers stan' on one foot an' run wid de otheh until de seven shows." "Boy, you is speakin' mah own talk. Fo'- git de gin. Whah at is dis bone pasture?" "I leads you." Three minutes later, deep in an abandoned LILY 61 powder magazine that stands on the bluff that faces the Golden Gate, the Wildcat plowed his way through a packed ring of spectators to the central zone of activity where, on an O. D. blanket, a pair of dice were dancing their way toward a fatal seven. "Orphan! Done killed dey po' ol j father. Nex' boy!" "Leave dis Wildcat own dem babies a while!" "Han' me dem twins! I'se dey pappy. Shoots twenty. Fade me whilst I fumble dese leopards!" "Bam, an' us stumbles on snake eyes! Doggone dem dice. Reg'lar deception co'mittee greets de strangeh. Shoots de relief. Shoots twenty. Fade me whilst dis mule money is tame." "Unhitch 'em ! You is met." "Mule dice, in de collah! Bam! An' us reads six an' de sunset gun ! Hot dam ! lets it lay. Shoots forty. Fade an' fall back !" A weather beaten sergeant covered the bet. "Shake yo' furlough. You is bleached!" "Lady Luck, suss-tain me! Wham an 5 nine sez Nero. Nine rally roun' ! Six-fo' ! An' six-five ! Dice re-dooce ! An' dey sez five an' five. One north. Gi,t south. Bam an' de painful truth seven debbils !" 62 LILY "Gimme dem dice. Wilecat, shoots you twenty. Fade me an' get frail." "You is faded, roll 'em!" The Wildcat stripped off one of his three greenbacks. "Let 'em leap!" The gallopers leaped straight at seven. "Let it lay shoots forty. Hitch up de mule money an' ride 'em." "I rides 'em! Roll de verdick." The Wild cat laid down his two remaining twenties. "Rides em rough." The sergeant smothered the cubes in the moist palm of his uplifted right hand, invoking the while the aid of the several personal deities who watched over his gambling activities. "Cleo de Cleaner! De solid gold teeth! Wham an' I reads six an' a solitaire. Wilecat, you is cleaned." The Wildcat found no point whereon he might hang an argument. "I's cleaned. De ahmy wins de battle. Ah retreats light. Come on heah, Lily, befo' dese soldiers cuts de wool off you." The victim of the encounter beat the gun in a ramble from the Presidio to his down town rendezvous with the spindling-built companion of LILY 63 his trails and triumphs. He began his march at two o'clock in the morning and it was an hour later when he entered the territory wherein Gim let was awaiting him. CHAPTER V 44 "Ik yEVEH kin tell about mules, 'ceptin' I^L I dey always means trouble fo' some- ^1 body. Come on heah, Lily, double- time yo j feet. Us meets up wid Gimlet and eats heavy. By dis time dat boy has collected f'm dat Honeytone Boone. Gimlet neveh falls down." Gimlet in the meantime had been out-dis tanced in a race led by Honeytone Boone. His endeavors to collect his investment in Honey- tone's ten-for-one church project had been handi capped by the calisthenics involved in the busi ness of running himself ragged and at the same time steering a wire-edged razor toward a park ing place in Honeytone's active anatomy. Gim let meant well but he was loaded down with a raging thirst for revenge and too much hardware. After the first half mile he gave up the chase, and breathing deeply, with his tongue hanging out less than a foot, he retraced his steps down Mission Street until he came to the Palace Ho- 64 LILY 65 tel, from which point the race of revenge had started. It was well toward morning and Gimlet leaned on a half-developed instinct in his search for his companion. "De Wilecat gits whah de soldiers is and either gits his money or fails one way o' otheh de chances is he double-tracks it to de place whah de nutriment kin be had fo' cash." He shaped his course accordingly toward the Sutter Street lunch-counter where he and the Wildcat had agreed to meet. Arrived at the "Hot and Ready" he inquired for the Wildcat: "Dark complected Memphis boy wid a goat*?" "Ain't seed him, ain't been in to-night." "I waits fo' him." Thereafter for an hour Gimlet waited under the frowning glances of the proprietor of the lunch room, who reserved his welcome for patrons equipped with cash. "Dis ain't no res' cure, dem is eatin' chairs whuteveh sleepin' you does is extrah. Like as not dat Wilecat is mindin* his own bizness." Gimlet paid no heed to the pointed suggestions but maintained his place in a chair tilted back against the wide wall of the lunch room. It was here, at three o'clock, that the Wildcat, 66 LILY, trailed by the fatigued but faithful mascot goat, found him. "You outrun dat Honeytone*?" The question was superfluous, the answer could be read in Gimlet's dejected counte nance. "Kaint outrun nuthin'. I'se built too short in de laigs fo' any fancy runnin'. Dat Honey- tone got lighter eve'y minute." "Neveh you mind, Gimlet. I collected dat soldiers' bonus fo' ketchin' dat mule fo' dem ahmy folks." "How much you git?" "Hund'eh dollahs. Mos' money us seed since I los' dat Soopreem roll." "Wilecat, a bird in de hand beats snake's eyes. You betteh res' content wid dat hund'ed an' not try to build up too sudden." "Gimlet, don't tell me nuthin', I knows. Yo' advice is late. De hund'ed dwindled when us got 'suaded into de oP army game. Us is cleaned." "Wilecat, I'se starved to death. Think how much ham an' eggs us could git fo' ha'f whut you los' on dat las' pass." "Hush, boy! Right now is eggs a nickel a million us couldn't buy one shell. Nuthin' in mah pockets but lint." LILY 67 'Dey's a li'l hard lint in mah pockets, twenty cents." "Gimlet, has yo' all got twenty cents? Us eats heavy. Come on back to dat lunch counter." They turned toward the lunch counter and a minute later were perched on two stools facing an array of food which looked to them like the front door of Paradise. "How much dat fried liveh wid dem drippin' onions splattered roun' it?" The Wildcat discovered that liver and onions was two bits a throw. "Huh! How much dem li'l pieces sausage meat floatin' in gravy?" Here was an item that came to thirty cents for the pair. "Ain't you got no small sausage, 'bout ten- cent size sausage?" The restaurant business is not a financial suc cess as a charitable institution and the husky proprietor was not slow in explaining the fact to the pair. "When you gits money you eats. In de meantime back away f'm de trough befo' you scares de cash customers." The Wildcat essayed one last attempt. "Whut you got fo' twenty cents dat's big an' hot 'n nllin'?" 68 LILY "Nuthin. On yo' way." At the last moment the proprietor relented. "How come you don't try Chinatown wid yo' twenty cents'? Dem Chinese boys cook up mys terious things whut is hot an' fillin', 'long wid tea. Go on down the street 'till you comes to Grant Avenue an' turn to de lef. After a while you comes to de place whah fo' ten cents you eats a full meal, full of everythin'." "Us is gwine, an' if I neveh sees you again dat's twice too soon fo' me. Come on heah, Lily, Wuz cobble stones as hard as dis boy's heart de street pavers would starve to death like us is. Come on, Gimlet, whah dese Chinee boys treats you right fo' ten cents." The night looked younger than it was and pres ently the Wildcat and Gimlet, trailed by Lily, prowled around the corner of Grant Avenue and marched up the incline into Chinatown. "Wilecat, is you eveh seed dese Chinese boys in Chinatown whah at dey lives so thick 4 ?" "Kaint say is I. You means dem sawed-off yaller lookin' boys whut is so dumb dey kaint talk lanwi'ge no mo' dan a cacklin' hen*?" " 'At's dem. I shows you a gamblin' game whah you pays ten cents fo' a lottery ticket an' mebbe wins big. De game runs neah de Chinee LILY 69 josh house whah you gits lucky fo' a nickel." "Whut you mean lucky ?" "Voodoo luck I shows you." "I'se afraid of dis Voodoo luck. All us craves is to git dis mascot goat back to whah Lady Luck hears her bleat, whah at is dat goat*?" The Wildcat looked around him. Lily was nowhere to be seen. Followed by Gimlet he retraced his steps until he came to a narrow open ing between two buildings, and in this sanctuary, nibbling heartily on a vermilion paper poster that was pasted to a crumbling brick wall, they dis covered the goat. "Lay off dat paper!" "Blaa-a!" Lily, with her mouth full of an announcement proclaiming the marriage of Hun Yip and Loy Teng, protested against the inter ruption. "Come along heah, Goat. Whut you mean eatin' dese pasted up papers?" "Spec' dat goat is twice as hungry as whut us is." "Gimlet, yo' talkin' about dis Chinee lottery has ruined me whah stummick rations is con cerned. I crave to git heavy wid cash befo' de eatin' begins." "Us gits heavy." The march toward the Joss House, where luck 70 LILY could be purchased for a nickel, was interrupted only by a temporary pause in front of a fish store where, suspended from a hook, drooped a discouraged looking octopus. "Whut dat slick snake lookin' thing?' "Kaint say. Dese Chinee boys eats ainy- thing f m snakes both ways. Come 'long heah 'till us sees dese josh house boys." On the way Gimlet enlarged upon the pos sibilities of a ten-cent ticket in the Chinese lot tery. "Boy, you gits action. I means no waitin' a month 'till dey sees who loses. Ten minutes afteh you marks yo' ticket de man says 'Heah's yo' money,' or else, 'Git out befo' I throws you out!' Us gits two tickets an' de chances is we needs a wagon to haul away de money." "I'll say so. I feels lucky." "Wait 'till us finishes wid de josh house whah dey makes luck, den you knows whut de lucky hunch feels like." Gimlet turned up a stairway which led to a room congested with the paraphernalia of a Bud dhist philosopher who carried a side-line of cel luloid idols and punk-scented punk to be ex changed for nickels and dimes of visiting luck hunters. Ushered by a clattering devil-rattle and the LILY 71 bamming of a bronze bell the Wildcat entered the shrine room wherein functioned the priestly coin collector. The smell of burning incense hit the Wildcat in the nose. He sneezed four times in rapid succession. He fished in his pocket and hauled out a broken cigar. "I lights dis" he said to Gimlet. "When it gits to burnin' I figures it an' Lily kin beat all de Chinee smells dey is." He lighted the cigar and went about the busi ness of drawing a sheaf of lucky sticks from the bamboo receptacle which held them. For five cents he bought a small celluloid god which the priestly attendant assured him would bring a mil lion dollars' worth of good luck. With the lighted cigar in his hand he paused near a great pyramid of celluloid idols which had been manufactured in Japan for the tourist trade of Chinatown. From behind him the sullen boom of a gong suddenly echoed in the crash of an exploding string of firecrackers banging within the resonant confines of a Buddhist coal-oil can. The Wildcat turned rapidly to discover the source of the riot and to present if need be an armed front against whatever machine gun troops might be approaching. "Gimlet, dis heah 72 LILY josh luck sho' skeered me. How come so much ruckus?' Then the glowing end of the Wildcat's cigar touched the celluloid corpus of one of the luck- bringing idols piled on the table. Gimlet's reply was drowned in a splash of flame. A slight smell of burning goat hair mingled with the heavy religious vapors of the room. Lily made one wild leap away from the burning gods and landed like a freight train, south of the embroidered lizard which added lustre and charm to the equator of the corpulent Chinese priest. For an instant pidgin English went to par and then it cracked under the strain. The priest in dulged in forty high pitched Chinese verbs. Gimlet and the Wildcat meanwhile busted all circular track records in their search for the door. Seeing nothing worthy of her skill Lily took a ra'r at the heavy bronze bell. For the subse quent ten seconds she lay near the bell. On her face was a dejected look wherein mingled shame, chagrin and shattered hopes. The celluloid gods had functioned rapidly but the Wildcat's brain had reacted almost before the flash of the explosion had faded. "Must of been a million luck-bringin' doll LILY 73 babies in dat pile. A million at a nickel apiece ! Us leaves befo' de josh boy tries to collec' de money. Lawd gawd, whah at is Lady Luck an' ol j Cap'n Jack!" Aloud he called to Lily and Gimlet. "Come on heah while de comin' is good. Heah's de do'." With Gimlet and Lily clattering in his wake he leaped down the stairway to the street. On the sidewalk he took a long look at Gimlet. "Boy, I'll say us is lucky. Us is lucky dat de Chinee boy was on de hot side o' dat blazin' josh gawd. When he cools off he sho' strives to collec' fo' dem luck things whut de hell fire burns so quick." Gimlet, weak in the technique of camouflage, wasted no time in idle speech. "Come on heah, Wilecat, bring dat goat. Us retreats back befo' dat josh boy comes down de steps." " 'Spose he does come down de steps, den he starts a race wid us to see kin he kill us runnin'. Naw suh ! See dat singin' ahmy oveh dere 'cross de street whah de salvation's free? Dem religious boys needs us. Come on heah. Come heah, Lily." CHAPTER VI THE Wildcat, in flight from the wrecked temple, led his charges across Grant Avenue from the Chinese Joss House to where a small band of saved souls were making the welkin ring. The salvage in lost souls at the moment included three fur-bearing Hindoos, two Kanakas and two Chinamen. The Wildcat and his companion stepped to a place close be side the booming bass drum, and Lily came to attention at his feet. "Stan' heah on my lef, Gimlet," the Wildcat directed. "Did you eveh sing in yo' life, sing now. Lily, at res' ! See kin you sing." The Wildcat threw his head back and presently the windows along Grant Avenue reverberated to the strenuous and enthusiastic message which his lungs bawled forth. Salvation was free and he took a lot of it. When the priestly proprietor of the Joss House clattered into the street looking for the pair who had set fire to his meal ticket the Wildcat was 74 LILY 75 proclaiming to the quivering heavens that he had been a sinner but that the chariot of salvation had run him down. "Once I was blind an' steeped in sin sing, Lily, doggone you! but I got saved when dey took me in." He kicked gently at Lily. Lily resented the kick. She lowered her head and butted the bass drum. Thereafter, noting the mechanics of the arrange ment, the Wildcat accented the heavy notes by an alibi drum-bamming. On lung-busting ac cented notes he kicked the goat and the mascot butted the drum for a low G. Into this din trotted the keeper of the Joss House. The Chinaman inspected several mem bers of the singing band and was about to turn away when his eye fell upon the contours of Gimlet's anatomy. Firecracker language rattled in an undertone beneath the heavy singing. The Joss House priest laid hold of Gimlet's arm. Gimlet kicked out at him violently. It was at this critical moment that the hand of the white man's law came to Gimlet's aid and a moment later the Joss House priest was being escorted back to his den in the clutches of two plainclothes men. "Whut in hell do you mean, breakin' up this sidewalk church ! Wan more move and I'll sap you in the bean. Get t'hell upstairs there 76 LILY where yez belong wid thim Chinee josh gods av yours." The singing ceased and the Wildcat leaned toward Gimlet. "Boy, whut'd I tell you, sal vation sho' is free. Come on heah, Lily, lay off dat drum. Whuff! Come close to gittin' us dat time." "Close to gittin' me," Gimlet answered. "Josh boy sho' had dis angel by de wing when de police got him. Come on heah now, us goes." The pair walked down the street a little ways and Gimlet stopped before a rickety street door. "Wilecat, heah's whah at dey plays de lottery. Us has got de luck. Now does dat josh boy crave to ketch us again chances is he looks a mile f'm heah 'stead of close by." The Wildcat followed Gimlet through a series of doors into a room wherein a packed mass of human beings hoped that a ten-cent investment would win a thousand dollars. For himself and for the Wildcat Gimlet marked a pair of ten-cent lottery tickets. After that, for thirty minutes, the investors waited for whatever prize Lady Luck might dig out of her store of unearned rewards. Lily, meanwhile, with a forest of human legs springing up about LILY 77 her, voiced her displeasure in an occasional bleat. "Lis'en at dat goat pray, Gimlet. Lily knows us is iinanc'lly bust. She's pullin' fo' us de best she kin wid dat thin voice. Neveh kin tell. I seen a skinny girl outpray de preacheh at revival meetin' one time. Mebbe Lily's voice makes mo 3 listenin' dan all de josh house bells an' Chinee singin' whut is. I feels festooned wid luck. Go 'head an' pray loud, Lily. Pray dat us ketches up wid ol' Cap'n Jack befo' de debbil gits us. Us craves mah white folks." "Blaa-a!" prayed Lily, and in answer to her prayer came action in the sound of axes cracking through the outer doors of the gambling establish ment. Ten minutes later the Wildcat, Lily and Gim let, the luck harvester, enjoyed a cool march downhill to the police station. At ease in the bull-pen of the jail the Wildcat summarized his opinion concerning Chinese lot teries and the hand that fate had dealt him. "Gimlet, I 'spects you's a hoodoo. Mebbe not, but dis has sho' been a rough night. Mebbe dem Chinee doll babies whut wuz cre- matized brings dis. Now when us gits out you gits one mo' chance wid de luck befo' me an' Lily kills you." 78 LILY "How come you thinks I brings de bad luck*? I figgers dis heah mascot goat whut you thinks is so lucky brung dis woe. Befo' I meets up wid you an' Lily I wuz free. Now heah us is. Don't aim no remarks at me, boy. Don't aim nuthin' at me." Lily, listening, evidently heard the complaint and aimed a pair of high-speed horns at Gimlet where they would impress him most acutely. After the third round Gimlet acknowledged his mistake. "Goat, lay off me. I brung de bad luck, I admits it. Me an' you an 7 Wilecat is ol' Jren's." Lily accepted Gimlet's apology with all the goat dignity which she could assume and then until dawn the trio slept peacefully. In his sleep the Wildcat dreamed of a gal loping mule festooned with hundred-dollar bills and of kicking dice on whose upturned faces bloomed a harvest of sevens and elevens. At six o'clock he was awakened by the clang of the morning gong and five minutes later he was tasting the first food which he had eaten for what seemed more than a hundred years. "Hot dam, Gimlet, dese jail rations sho' is grand grub. Eat heavy. Dis goat got nutrified las' LILY 79 night, ain't no leavin's fo' Lily. Lady Luck sho' is smilin'." Three hours after the Wildcat had enjoyed his jail breakfast a police judge opened the news papers in his apartment in a downtown hotel and was greeted by a four-column head retailing the outstanding features of the night's raid, wherein, through the courtesy of the reporter on the police run, the truant Wildcat, Gimlet and the mascot goat were heavily featured. A recent epidemic of lightweight gambling offenses which had persisted in spite of the Judge's efforts to eliminate them, had not served to sweeten that official's attitude toward similar offenses. "If I draw that pair of crapshooting lottery fans and the Lord spares my voice, I'll boost them into the straight and narrow path. This stuff has got to stop." On the Judge's calendar of activity when he arrived at court the first two names in the list were those of the Wildcat and Gimlet. Five minutes later the Wildcat and his companion were hauled before the bar of justice. The Judge looked down at his victim. "Were you playing this Chinese lottery*?" "Gin'ral, no suh! Me an' Gimlet was at- 8o LILY tenden' dat sidewalk chu'ch 'till it broke up. Den somebody says dey was a good salvation meetin' in de basement next' do, an' us went. Sho' craves religion. I got saved de fust time in de Memphis revival de winter of de Arkansas flood. Neveh backslid none 'ceptin now an' den when de oP demon rum rassles me down an' now an' den when de sevens and elevens is gallopin' free in de bone pasture." "Crap shooting, is that it? Is this Gimlet partner of yours a crap shooter too 4 ?" The Judge's eyes narrowed as he gazed down at the Wildcat. "Gin'ral, no suh! Dis Gimlet ain't no crap shooter. Wid me it's difPrunt. Mah uncle learned me neveh to dooce, tray or twelve. I shoots some. Spec' mebbe I'se de bes' crap shooter in de world, 'cept dat is wid de otheh boy's bones." In the corner of the Judge's eyes appeared a flock of faint wrinkles. He leaned over and whispered quietly to a police sergeant standing near him. The sergeant whispered his reply. "I ain't got any, your honor, but I can get some in a minute from the bull-pen." "Get 'urn!" LILY 81 The police officer left the court room, walk ing hurriedly, and for a space of three minutes the wheels of justice slowed down to where their noise was drowned out by a buzzing fly who was doing his best to bore through a pane of plate- glass. The officer returned and walked quickly to where the Judge awaited him. In his hand he held something for the Judge. The Judge re ceived his property and extended his hand to the Wildcat. In his open palm were two ivory dice. "Best crap shooter in the world, are you? Well, I stake you to ninety days with the thirty day bonus for this Gimlet partner of yours. You get one flop, nothing or six months, and if you go free you can take Gimlet and the goat with you." "Gin'ral suh, you means I kaint start low an' build up?" "I said one flop, seven, eleven or make your point, against six months." The Wildcat warmed the dice between his palms. Through his brain raced a series of pic tures of all that could happen in six months. He set this gallery of art over against the drab succession of dragging days that would be his 82 LILY if he drew his jail sentence. He looked over at Gimlet. That individual's lips were moving in a rapid silent prayer. He looked down at Lily and in his mascot's eyes he seemed to sec an unuttered plea for life, liberty and the pur suit of happiness. "Lawd gawd, Lady Luck," he prayed, "stan' by me! An' one damn bone is round on de edge! Kaint be done. Gotta be done." He looked up at the Judge. "Gin'ral suh, no use trying to throw a point, one of dese bones is roun' shouldered. I aims fo' eleven. Does I throw it kin us go free?" ' 'Eleven opens the door. Roll 'urn against the wall." The Wildcat groaned. "Kaint be done." He was half determined to save three months of freedom by accepting the three-months sentence when he looked down again at Lily. On the instant that he did so the buzzing fly, which had left the plate-glass field of operation, landed a little above Lily's right eyelid. The goat winked instinctively and shook her head violently up and down in an effort to rid herself of the insect. The goat's winking suggestion was the Wild cat's cue. "Lady Luck, I knows de signals. Goat, I believes you when you nod." To him- LILY 83 self the Wildcat pledged again his old promise of all or nothing. Aloud he voiced his plea to the heaven's goddess. "Lady Luck, stan' by me." He lifted his right hand high above his head and in his moist palm nestled the freighted dice. "Stan' by me. I'se a prowlin' Wilecat an' I'se got to prowl. Leave freedom ring! Bam! Gallopers, parade rest on a jail bustin' 'leven! Bam!" The dice left his hand. The Wildcat shut his eyes against a too sudden revelation of his fate. Before he had opened them a loud rattle of subdued laughter and ap plause from the ring of spectators suggested the welcome message to be read on the upturned face of the dice. He opened his eyes and his vision centered on a six-five. "Hot dam!" He turned his beaming face to the Judge. "Gin'ral suh, dey fetched de key." The Judge, true to his word, spoke the sentence that meant freedom to the trio. "Prisoners dis charged. Next case." "You mean us is free?" "You're free. Get out of here. Get out and 84 LILY stay. If I catch you again all you roll is a ball and chain." "Yass suh! Come on heah, Gimlet. Come on heah, Lily. Us is leavin' and does us neveh git back dat's twice too soon fo' me." Thirty seconds later, with Gimlet and the mas cot goat at his heels, the Wildcat walked through the one-way door of the gray building and breathed the air of freedom on Kearny Street. He paused only long enough to bid a brief fare well to his companion. "Gimlet, I bids you goodbye. Dis is good leavin' weather. Me an' Lily is headed fo' whah de steamboats is and de fust one leavin' fo' N'O'leans takes wid it one home-cravin' Wilecat an' one mascot goat." CHAPTER VII Some is lucky, some is rich, Hard time tellin' who is which. ON the Embarcadero, three piers east of the lure of the Happy Home hall, a little while after OP Man Trouble had branded the Wilecat with the red-hot double- cross, Lady Luck poulticed the wound with liberty and the welcome offer of a waiter's job on the New Orleans bound Roller. Memphis and his own white folks were sud denly., a million miles closer to him when the job was cinched. In the shadows of the long pier he fired a volley of commands at his mascot goat: "Varmint, double-time yo' laigs. Us is Memphis bound!" Lily responded with action and for a moment the Wildcat surrendered to a reflective mood which had developed with the luck of the hour. "Lady Luck showered down this N'O'leans boat job. Us is sho' in de luck rain. Dis country is all right for dem whut craves it but us is mis- 85 86 LILY put 'less us stays wid oP Cap'n Jack. No use tryin' to do nuthin' 'less dat boy is wid you to pick up de leavins' afteh OP Man Trouble gits done wid you. Come along heah to whah de man said." The Wildcat and his mascot marched along steel decks and climbed down slippery companion- ways until they reached the entrance to the Roller's galley. The Wildcat explained his mission to a lounging sailor who was doing the best he could to aid and abet his health with a wedge of pie. The sailor called into the galley to the ship's cook. "Bam! Heah's a new boy fo' you. He says he's signed on as a waiter for de officers' mess." Bam, the cook, carrying a nickname three syllables shorter than the name of his native state, grunted an acknowledgment of the sailor's announcement. The grunt was backed by two hundred pounds of fat. The Wildcat sized up his new boss. He saw a wide perspiring face three shades blacker than a midnight coal-mine. "Whut dat name de white folks calls you?" ' 'Bam. Short fo' Alabam'. I keeps de nick name in each hand. Come 'long wid me." "Trib'lation, let me miss you." The Wildcat LILY 87 felt no craving to argue with the chef about the Bam business. "Uppity nigger/' he reflected. "Does he git screechin' reckless wid dat Bam trouble I sees kin I be de echo wid de whet edge of a whinin' blade. Bam! Big nigger. Does de ruckus come I unfolds de equalizer an* cuts him down boy size. Den I feeds his carcass to Lily. Huh! Leave him Bam some does he crave to. One Bam f'm dat fat nigger an' I swings agile wid de trimmin' hook an' den stan's 1 back whilst de arms an' legs shower down." He spoke a command to his mascot goat. Come on heah, Lily. Stan' by me." The chef glanced at the goat. "Whut dat goat doin"?" "Dat's my pussonal mascot. Lily was wid me in de A. E. F. whah us killed so many bad folks. Us pranced 'cross de country f m New York to San F'mcisco an' now us is headed home." "Whut you mean home?" "Ten-o-see. Memphis. Us is headed back whah Cap'n Jack is. He's mah white folks." "Huh!" The chef grunted. He stepped through a door opening from the galley and with a short gesture indicated the objective of the LILY Wildcat's attack. "See dese potatoes. Peel me forty miles an' peel 'em thick." The Wildcat faced his new world, a small compact world entirely surrounded by Irish potatoes. Five minutes later, when the full significance of her master's new position in life showered upon her in the form of an intermittent cascade of potato peelings, Lily began to realize that she had entered into a goat heaven. In thirty minutes she had profited by the technique of thick peelings to a point where a thin belt which festooned her midship section tightened to the tension of actual discomfort. In spite of this impediment she did the best she could to keep even with the game. Near the bursting point she voiced a gentle criticism of the belly-band. "Blaa-a!" The Wildcat answered with action. A quick swing of his paring knife deprived Lily of the yellow insignia. "Goat, at ease. At res'! You is done wearin' harness. Eat dese peelin's. Mo' you eats de less peelin's dey is to clean up. Git nutrified whilst de gittin' is free." He speared another long potato and began to unwind the peeling over the lazy blade of his LILY 89 paring knife. As he worked he drawled softly to his mascot and presently his speech had mel lowed into a moaning chant, senseless except for a persistent lazy rhythm of tone: "Eat heavy, heavy when you gits a chance Eat dis twinin' peel Re member all dem hungry days in France Eat dis twinin' peel." The mascot goat began to bulge with pros perity and in a little while she was three bleats and two peelings behind the song and the source of food. "Speed up, Lily! Whut you mean by quit- tin'?" Lily looked at a two-foot cone of potatoes on the floor and at the full sacks piled high against the bulkhead walls. Over her eyes fell the shadow film of defeat. In goat mathematics she mentally arranged an equation wherein her per sonal capacity opposed an impossible volume of Irish potatoes. She sought an exponent for the low side and, finding it, she announced her sur render in a series of sobbing bleats, punctuated with the gentle involuntary grunting that comes from gorging unwisely and too well. 90 LILY "How come? Whut you mean gittin' de stomach mis'ry an' quittin' yo' job'?" "Blaa-a! Ba! Ump! Burr! Blaa-a-a-a!" "Stan' up. Ten-shun, goat ! 'Sorb yo' rations befo' I knocks you A. W. O. Loose f 'm yo' neck." Lily failed to respond. The Wildcat essayed a further series of orders and threats and invita tions. His words were interrupted by the open ing of the door leading into the ship's galley. The doorway framed the figure of the ship's cook. The cook looked at the little pile of peeled poto- toes and then his investigating eyes roved in search of the peelings which should have marked the Wildcat's industry. "Whah at is de peelin's?" "Cleaned up, Bam. Dis lazy mascot goat et 'em so as to save time an' trubble. Showin' de lazy blood now, cravin' dwindled on de second sack." The cook snorted. "What you mean cleaned up? I tole you peel 'em thick. Dem potatoes 7 insides don't mean nothin', it's de peelin's I'm afteh. Head into dat work an' dis time does you crave luck, save de peelin's !" In the cook's bellowing tones the Wildcat de tected the accents of rising anger. He resumed his labor. With Lily gorged to the ears the mat- LILY, 91 tcr of saving the peelings came easier and in an hour there had accumulated a great pile of potato debris to one side of which lay a few thin white fragments of what had been two sackfuls. The monotony of the game had its effect and presently, searching for some diversion which might keep him awake, the Wildcat's hands stripped a large round potato of its coat. Under the knife the potato began to assume the di mensions of a cube. With the first cube com pleted the Wildcat gave his attention to the manu facture of another. On the six planes bounding each cube he inscribed the insignia which lends authority to a pair of dice and into the light pits he inlaid enough black dust to render the message of the Irish gallopers legible. He essayed a pre liminary swing on the steel deck. "Seven! Stan' back, Lily. Let de luck eggs hatch !" Lily, grunting gently, was shoved out of the center of the clear space by the Wildcat's foot. "Hash brown, show de seven specks! . . . Wham! Fo'-tray. French fry, over de plate! An' I reads six-five. Mebbe yo' eyes is out but you still kin see de luck trail !" The preliminaries were interrupted by the re turn of the cook. The Wildcat looked at his superior and a smile, half of guilt and half of 92 LILY invitation, played around the drooping corners of his mouth. "Bam, look at de present de good Lawd done sent inside a potato. Like de pearl in de clam all dey knows is whut Lady Luck learned 'em. Seven an' 'leven. You is de boss cook. See kin you boss dese hash eggs." Yielding to a temptation too strong for him to resist the cook reached out his hand for the gallopers. "Shoots fo' bits. Dey calls me Bam an' Bam I is!" "You is faded. Serve yo' spuds." "Pot roast, git yo' meat. Wham ! An' I reads six-five. Shakin' jelly. I lets it lay. Shoots a dollar. You calls yo'se'f Wilecat see kin you yowl some." The Wildcat responded nobly. "Roll 'em, dey does de yowl in' when de time comes." The cook fondled the cubes for two seconds and then cast them lightly across the deck toward where Lily lay enjoying her digestive distress. "Lucky spud, whuff ! . . . An' I reads six-ace ! . . . Leggo, goat!" The ace, rolling within an inch of Lily's nose, was absorbed with the lightning technique of a fly-crawling lizard. The Wildcat laughed. "Show me de ace. All I sees is a peg-leg six." "Ace was comin'. Goat et it. Seed it bloom." LILY 93 "You didn't see nuthin'. Bets is off. I has some bone twins does you feel heavy an' right." The cook hesitated. "Not now after sup per," he conceded. "Pick dem peelin's up an' put 'em in de steam kittle at de end." The Wildcat began the business of disposing of the accumulated debris. He undamped the cover of a forty-gallon steam kettle which stood beside five similar food engines. He took one look at the mess in the kettle and interrupted his work long enough to find the chef. "OF kittle half full wid garbage." "Dat ain't garbage. Put dem peelin's in like I tole you. Dat stuff is sour mash. Load dem peelin's in wid it." The Wildcat obeyed orders and added the potato peelings to the mysterious looking mass which half filled the interior of the steam kettle. "Cat's good. Now git de table set. To-night I shows you how de moon kin shine inside a boat." "You means likker?" The Wildcat smacked two hopeless lips. "I means likker. F'm here to N'O'leans us makes it an' ages it fresh every day. Dat's why dese Shippin' Board boats needs such big cook house crews. Half de time used up makin' moon shine fo' dese white folks whut runs de boat." 94 LILY "Whut dis likker taste like"? Whut name does you call it?" "Tastes like dey ain't enough. Boys calls it joy brine." "Named afteh dat Democrank president run- nin' boy?' "Ain't dat kind. Dis is picklin' brine," CHAPTER VIII THROUGH the long days of the Roller's staggering cruise the Wildcat peeled potatoes and carried treacherous trays of food across rolling decks and dreamed of a hap pier state where a boy's feet stayed put when he set 'em down. Heaven became a place where there were no potatoes to be peeled. If the management craved to have potatoes in heaven, all right, but peeling them was an occupation ap propriate for the Devil's house-guests. In confidential conversation with his mascot goat the Wildcat assured Lily that here was the dwindle end of their prowl. "When us gits to dry land us takes root. 'Cept for de trib'lation us missed in dat Temple o' Luck bizness, us is mis- put on de rollin' wave. When I gits landed I settles down on a farm wid a mule whah I sees de same sights every day." The fat cook, overhearing a statement of the Wildcat's ambition, drew cards and sat into the farm game. "Only way to live whut is," Bam 95 96 LILY commented. "You sleeps when you craves to, you gits up when you likes. Farm kaint sink an' de land neveh blows up. You raises yo' vittles. You has yams an' roast in' ears, garden truck, side meat, ham gravy, biskits, pot likker, greens an' " "Bam, hush ! Come frost you barbecues mebbe two shoats whut has growed heavy on chink'pins and hick'ry nuts. You takes de ol' britch loader an' blows ol' possum off de high limb. You baits a barb hook an' next mawnin' when you runs de trot line dey's six o' eight catfish hitched an' waitin' fo' de hot pan. Boy, anybody whut don't live on a farm is got de brain feebles." "Dey sho' is! Live high, work low. Let de oP mule work. Front end gentle, hind end wild. Tames down de hind end wid a plough. Mule does de work. You does de high livin'." Bam was silent for a little while, lost in con templation of his dream of ease and then, in a sudden outburst of friendliness, he staked his roll on a single throw. "Wilecat, I got fo' thousand dollahs whut I'se saved up. When us lands whut you say us gits a patch o' land 4 ? Git a gran' farm fo' dat money. F'm den on all us does is set on de sunny side of de Gold Mountain an' watch Lady Luck do de work." LILY 97 "Bam, Fse wid you! Rollin' wave, fare thee well. Fse a settlin 5 down nigger. When ol' angel Gabe toots de hawn fo' de las' 'sembly my whah'bouts is located on de li'l farm!" In New Orleans the pair fell into the clutches of a real estate man and after a few preliminaries the southwest quarter of the northeast quarter of section thirteen, township too far south, range not enough west, was transferred to its new owners. Bam began the business of disgorging the ac cumulated roll with which his own Lady Luck had boomed him through long years of saving. Five minutes later, with the Wildcat at his side and Lily trailing after them, Bam marched out of the real estate office. On the street the Wildcat looked at the cook. "I fo'got to ask de man how us gits to whah de farm is at." "I knows. Come on. Us lays in some grub an' supplies." "Bam, how much money is you got left?" "Tops a little on two hund'ed dollahs. How much is you*?" The Wildcat counted the residue of his wages. "Goin' on forty dollahs. "Dat's enough. Come on heah* Us gits de outfit," 98 LILY At two o'clock, after three hours devoted to the business of laying in a load of assorted groceries which cut heavily into the depleted treasury, the pair started for the forty-acre farm in a hired wagon. To relieve the monotony of the ride the driver of the wagon regaled them with slugs of local geography. "See dat splindlin' oak, dat's whah de Todd boys wuz hung." "Culled boys?" "Plain nigger. Turned some culled when de chokin' rope got tight. Dat crik down theh is whah de white folks baptised young Blatch Fen nel de time he got sinful an' loaned a hawg f'm ol' Judge Harkness. Baptised him plenty. Neveh come up. Swimmin' yet wid de mud-cats." "Ain't dey no pleasant views?" The Wildcat was fed up on local items. "Wait 'till us gits to yo' farm. Dat's pleasant enough. Pleasant 'cept at night. Trees thick wid owls. Owls keep askin' "who" like dey missed somebody." "Us tells 'em who wid dis britch loader. How far is de farm f'm heah?" "Toppin' de nex' hill. Rollin' piece by de droopin' cypress." "You means dat swamp lookin' land?" LILY 99 "Some swampy. Cabin's on de high groun'. You sees it now." "Whut's dat town 'way yonder whah dem chu'ches is?" "Ain't no town. Dem ain't chu'ches. Dem's oil rigs fo' drillin' dis rock oil outen de groun'." "You means dat black oil like long sweetnin' 'lasses whut dey burns 'stid of coal on de boats?' "Dat's it. An' whilst us is on de subject, look out fo' dem oil boys. Dey looks black like niggers but dey's hardshell white. Does you crave a ruckus find yo'se'f a grizzle bear but don't neveh start no thin' wid a oil man 'less you craves leadin' a slow drag, layin' down, to whah yo' next' of kin awaits de boxed remains." "Ain't lookin' fo' no ruckus. Here us is. Sho' a noble cabin." The wagon drew up in front of a broken down shack. At one end a chimney of mud and sticks lifted against a background of drooping cypress trees. A broken door in the front wall of the cabin, hanging by one rawhide hinge, swung open in a surly welcome to the new tenants. "Don't look like nobody wuz home. Betteh dan us boys had in France whilst us wuz killin' ioo LILY dem bad folks. Come on heah, Lily. See whut's inside." A fireplace, two rude bunks, a broken table and four shelves against one end of the cabin com pleted the inventory. Stored on the shelves at the end of the cabin the wagonload of groceries which had loomed so large lost its impressive bulk. When the supplies were parked the Wildcat stood for a moment looking into the future. "Bam, when dem gro ceries is et, whah at is us*?" "By dat time us raises garden truck. Now us eats." The next hour was devoted to the business of eating ten dollars' worth of high priced food. At the conclusion of the meal the Wildcat was half a ham ahead of his partner- "Whuff! Sho' is noble rations. Dis farm life sho' is grand.'* No reply. Bam was asleep. Five minutes later, while Lily was polishing the fragments which had fallen from the lap of luxury, the Wildcat drifted into the land of dreams. Lady Luck, noting the acute attack of laziness which had attacked her favorite, gathered her skirts about her and began a disgusted retreat from the theatre of idleness. LILY 101 The Wildcat, dreaming of a land flowing with milk and honey, was headed for a different do main, where Old Man Trouble dealt the cards* Until the groceries were consumed the Wild cat and Bam managed to evade any more strenu ous occupation than that involved in the de struction of five or six meals each day. Now and then one of the pair would respond faintly to the urge of industry but invariably the good resolutions succumbed to some stronger force, with the result that the end of the month found nothing much remaining on the cabin shelves except ants and dust. 'Tse got twelve dollahs left, Bam. 'Spose you goes to town an' sees kin you lug back dat much groceries." "You is built lightest, Wildcat. I betteh stay heah on guard whilst you makes de trip." "Don't need no guard. OP farm stay here a long time yit." The argument terminated in a deadlock which was solved late one afternoon by the arrival of a rangy white man who bounced into view on the seat of a buckboard hauled by a pair of 102 LILY languid mules. The stranger addressed the Wildcat. "Where's the men that own this place?' "Cap'n suh, I owns half. Otheh boy is sleepin'." The white man shoved a folded sheet of paper at the Wildcat. "Tax bill," he said. "We've been hunting the last owner for two months now. Ain't no record of the transfer yet. You got a week left to pay this. I'll be back Wednes day." "Cap'n, yessuh. Does you mind tellin' me whut de papeh says? I kaint read, much." "The paper says cash, three hundred and some odd dollars to the county treasurer at the court house before Thursday night." "Cap'n, yessuh!" For ten minutes after the white man left the Wildcat did some troubled thinking. No folded up paper never meant nothing good for a boy, nohow, let alone one comin' from a white man. This one was no exception. He awakened his partner and asked some questions. The cook, versed in the cares which civilization inflicts upon the average citizen, was able to comprehend the difficulty. "Wilecat, I neveh thought about dis item. LILY 103 Tax money fo' de white folks at de cote house.' ' "Tax money?" "I said so. OP judge an' de rest whut hangs 'round de cote house needs groceries same as us." "Doggone dat Lady Luck." The Wildcat looked at his mascot goat. "Lily, come heah. Whut us gwine do?" The goat made no response except to snap at a roving bumble bee that had figured on parking a stinger in Lily's nose. Something in the mas cot's action reminded the Wildcat of an instant when one of a pair of rolling dice, carved from an Irish potato, had been accumulated by Lily's lightning tongue. The Wildcat turned quickly to the cook. "Bam, I knows de way out. Say no mo j . Us gits de rations. I'se got twelve dollahs an' de little gallopers whut has stood by me since de A. E. Fracas. I goes to town an' rallies roun' de tree whah de greenbacks bloom. When de cube frost hits dat tree you needs a wagon to haul de leaves back. I'se gone !" With Lily trailing at his heels the Wildcat plodded along the road to town. In the town, at a one-chair barber shop where hair-cuts were ten cents, without musk, he en- 104 LILY countered the opposition which he craved. "Git in de back room wid dat gam'lin' talk." Followed by four willing gladiators the Wild cat walked into the back room. He hauled out a few silver fragments of his stake and dug up the twin cubes. He rubbed the gallopers on Lily's head, behind the ears. "Wild man, fall back dead. Shoots fifty cents. Fade me is you plumb dumb. I craves action!" "Graver, roll an' groan." The Wildcat slammed the family jewels into a garden where a seven bloomed. "I reads six- ace. Lets it rest. Show money, wild men, is you crazy. 33 "I'se crazy. Roll 'em." A liberty dollar hit the Wildcat's stake. "Lily, stan' by me. Lady Luck, shower down. I'se on my prowl an' I drinks money-blood. Wham! ... I reads, doggone! How come snake-eye?" "Loses no thin' but time an' money? Dey's yo' dice kick 'em." The Wildcat fished after some more silver. "Shoots a dollah. I'se a wave-tail varmint an' I'se on my prowl. Whuff! ... an' I reads ace-dooce ! Doggone, Lily, git behind me." "You still owns 'em, boy, prowl on yo' way." LILY 105 The Wildcat continued his prowl at about four bits a step until he encountered his final ten- cent piece. Confident that here at the eleventh hour Lady Luck would rally to her favorite he indulged in some heavy language. "Builds f'm a jitney 'till you sells yo' clothes. Still prowlin'. When I'se done dead varmints chokes de road. Run up f'm a dime to a busted bank. When I quits I needs a mule to haul de money." * 'Bones kaint hear you. You claims big, see kin you roll dat way." The big claimer breathed a final prayer and greeted the advent of victory with a premature yowl of welcome. He slammed the rattlers from him with a wide gesture which told the world that pay-day was now. Wham! The gallopers subsided near the wall. On their sinister faces snake-eyes spoke the venom of defeat. The prowler shrunk four sizes, "I'se done." 'Til say you'se done. You is had yo' prowl." Dragging Lily at the end of her string the Wildcat shuffled away from misery. "Come on heah, Lily. Us mingles de news wid ol' Bam." Long after midnight the Wildcat entered the cabin door. "Bam, is you sleepin"?" "Kaint sleep whilst mah stummick is so wide 106 LILY awake. Whah is dem groceries'? I sho' most starved in two." "Us bofe. Ain't no groceries. Ain't mithin', not 'less you is reaped some rabbits wid de britch loader." "Ain't no rabbits. Whut you do wid de money?" "Consecrate de money on de freckle bones. Money dwindled down to ten cents. Snake-eye showed an' de ten cents neveh stopped to say goodbye." "Wilecat, wuz fool niggers a nickel a load you is a million dollahs. Git to sleep. Leave me sleep whilst dey ain't no eatin' to do." "You an j me both." From the black voids whence hope- had fled the Wildcat's old phil osophy, tempered a little by his hunger, fought its way to expression. Lily and the fat cook, half asleep, heard the mumbled words that proclaimed to-morrow the master of to-day. I eats when I kin git it, I sleeps mos' all de time I don't give a doggone if De sun don't neveh shine. Hungrier than he had been for many long weeks the Wildcat faced a future wherein threats LILY 107 replaced promises. He flopped despondently against the cabin wall. "Wish ol' Cap'n Jack was here. Wish Lady Luck knowed how us craves rations. Doggone dis farm bizness." CHAPTER IX SOME hours later, when the Wildcat be gan to believe that food would henceforth rank with other happy memories of the past, Lady Luck came rambling down the road in a car whose roaring motor told the world that here was action and lots of it. Lady Luck was convoyed by a chauffeur and three rapid fire white men. In the front of the cabin the three white men got out of the car. The Wildcat sized up the group. "Shower down, Satan. Here comes dem tax folks to run me an' Bam into de swamp." For a moment his hunger was forgotten. He got to his feet and picked up Lily's leading string. "Come 'long, Lily, an' come agile. Us gits elsewhere befo' dem white folks sees kin dey shoot like dey aims." His retreat was halted by a hail from one of 108 LILY 109 the dressed-up white men. "Your name Vitus Marsden?" The Wildcat stopped and acknowledged his identity. "Cap'n, yessuh. Dat's my wet-head name whut I got at de baptisin', but mos' folks calls me Wilecat." "Where's the other boy?" "Bam, he is seein' kin Jifi leep some in de cabin, suh." "Get him out here, we want to talk to you." The Wildcat summoned Bam to his share of their common fate. "Come out heah, big boy. De tax folks is got us." The fat cook got to his feet and dragged along behind the Wildcat to where the white folks stood beside the car. One of the white men addressed the farm owners. "What do you hold this land at?" The Wildcat remembered Barn's four thou sand dollars. Even a quick talking tax man would see that the farm had mighty little sal vage value. He braced himself and spoke of values. "Cap'n suh, I riggers a thousan' dollahs would be middlin' right." The white man hauled out a little black book, two folded sheets of paper and a fountain pen no LILY with motions a little less rapid than those of a striking rattler. "One thousand. Even forty acres.'- He wrote as he talked. "I know it's the best farm in the county, like all the rest of them, and that you're making a crop worth a hundred an acre like everybody else. One thou sand. Forty acres. Forty thousand dollars. Sign your name to this title transfer." He un folded two documents and handed them to the Wildcat. "Bottom line. Vitus Marsden to the Heavy Oil Corporation. That's my outfit." "Cap'n suh, I neveh learned much writin'. OF Bam writes good." The white man signed the Wildcat's name. "Make your mark here." The Wildcat made his mark and passed the papers to the fat cook. Bam, not yet fully awake, signed his name languidly. The white man handed a little blue slip of paper to the Wildcat. "Check on the First Na tional. Forty thousand dollars. That's done. You boys can live here until the crew begins setting the drill rig next week." When the automobile and the rapid-fire white men were half a mile down the road the Wildcat quit batting his eyes long enough to look side ways at the slip of blue paper. He handed LILY 111 it to the fat cook. "Whut dis mean, Bam?" "La^wd wid wings! De man thought you said thousan' fo' one acre 'stid de whole farm. Wilecat, us is got fo'ty thousan 5 dollahs!" "Tell me gentle ! Kaint think so big in money. Whut did de papeh say?" "Dat's a check papeh whut tells de bank boy pay Vitus Marsden fo'ty thousan' dollahs." "Lady Luck, how come I doubt you! Le's ramble befo' de bank boy goes blind. Fo'ty thousan' ! Bam, dat's twenty-twenty, me an' you! Come on heah, Lily." Over the last three miles of the race the Wild cat covered the ground with Lily galloping fifty, yards behind him and Bam lost in a cloud of dust. Midway of the stampede shoes and shirts and other superfluous raiment were discarded. At two o'clock, perspiring freely, barefooted and hatless, the Wildcat entered the doors of the First National. The terrifying delays of identi fication hit the victims like the seven-year itch but finally payment was accomplished and a great pile of packed currency flowed under the paying teller's grille. "You boys want to de posit that money here?" "Cap'n suh, whut you mean, deposit?" "Leave it here so you won't get robbed." 112 LILY, The Wildcat looked at the stacked bank notes on the slab in front of him. "I'd like some fo' groceries an' such. Ain't et me nothin' fo j three days. Nothin' much, dat is. Me an' Bam needs some shoes, de flies is so bad on feet. Kin us have mebbe twenty dollahs 'till Sat'day*?" The paying teller handed each of them a stack of ten-dollar bills. "Here's a hundred dollars apiece." He made an entry in a pair of thiii books and handed one of the books to Wildcat. "Nineteen thousand, nine hundred to your credit." Bam picked up his book and asked a few questions. "Dis book means I'sc got money in de bank no matteh where I goes'?" "Twenty thousand, less the hundred I gave you." "Folks, goodbye. Mah feet is leadin'. Wilecat, now I heads for Alabam' whah I be longs. Some day I sees you." Bam was on his way. The Wildcat stowed his hundred in his pants pocket and then for a little while he lingered in the bank. Presently his brain stopped spinning long enough to let his stomach record its de mands. Thereafter, until evening, he occupied a chair in the Home Club restaurant, In front of LILY 113 him a heavy table sagged with food. Beside him, on the floor, Lily chattered around over a layout of nutriment which renewed her faith in the existence of a goat heaven. Now and then the Wildcat stopped eating long enough to pay his bill. By six o'clock he had managed to eat his way through thirty dollars and a few moments later, weighing more than he had for some months, he struggled to his feet. "Whuff! Dat's de best I kin do wid dese crampin' pants. Got to git me some big size clo'es." The restaurant man gave him an admiring look. "You done noble. You is easy de eatin- ist man in de worl'." "I'se de sleepinist. Come on, Lily. Us sees kin us sleep some." "You got a room in town^" The restaurant man craved to retain his champion customer. "Us ain't got none yit. ' "I lodges you upstairs in a gran' front room at fo' bits a day." "Dat's us. Whah at's de room T Led by the restaurant proprietor the Wildcat and Lily mounted a rickety stairway and voyaged down a dim hall and entered the four-bit room. Two minutes later the Wildcat was asleep. His sleep was unbroken except for a persistent ii4 LILY vision of a cloudburst wherein each green rain drop, larger than the last, bore on its surface a dollar mark and a seven. On the floor beside the bed, bulging comfort ably, the mascot goat helped steady with the sleep business. Above the pair, smiling her smile and making her plans, hovered Lady Luck. "Wake up, Lily ! Us is rich an' when you is rich you is happy! Us is happy wid enough money to las' f'm now on. Come on, heah." Trailed by his mascot the Wildcat began a spending campaign. First of all, shoes. "Yaller shoes wid rag tops. Sort o' ague gray tops." At a jewelry store he accumulated a verdigris gold watch. "Kaint tell whut time de watch say but de ol' chain sho' looks gran'." A wide gray hat with an orange band followed the pur chase of a suit of clothes whose yellow fabric was checked at six-inch intervals by purple stripes. The vest was discarded in favor of a double-breasted crimson creation, shot with green dominoes. A blushing violet shirt with green cuffs and a blue collar served as a background for a striped scarf of lemon and black. A pair LILY 115 of bull blood gloves and a gold-headed cane com pleted the effect. Against a day when eating tobacco might be scarce he bought two long plugs of pressed leaf and stowed them in the moist environment of his hip pockets. That was done. "Dese shoes needs shinin'." He bought six mulatto colored cigars and lighted one after bestowing its mate upon the mascot goat. "Have a eatin' cigar, Lily. Us is rich an' happy." Something in Lily's pose cast a shadow of doubt upon the business of happiness. "Goat, you looks ragged. Come on heah, 'till us gits you dressed up." The Wildcat returned to the shoe store and bought Lily two pairs of child's size moccasins. He laced them on the mascot's feet and then retraced his course to the clothing store where he invested in a second silk shirt which was pres ently draped around Lily's narrow chest. The mascot submitted to further decoration in the form of a flaring yellow necktie and a boy's size straw hat from which dangled the ends of a bow of blue ribbon. Against the richness of the silk shirt Lily's string tether struck a false note and ii6 LILY forthwith the goat was haled to a hardware store where a brass collar, studded with spikes, was fitted around her neck above the yellow scarf. To this collar was attached a thin brass chain. The Wildcat stood back and surveyed his mas cot. "Goat, I to? you many's de time Lady Luck some day shower down de big money an' make us happy. You looks gran' now but us fo'got de gran'des' present of all. Remembeh I said some day Fd buy you a go? watch an' chain. Come on heah !" The Wildcat returned to the jewelry store wherein he purchased, at gold prices, a massive brass watch and chain. He pinned the watch into the pocket of Lily's silk shirt and tied the end of the chain to the mascot's necktie. "Now you sho' is quality. Rich an' happy! Say you is much o-blige fo' all de good luck." "Blaa-a!" Lily voiced an expression of her sentiment but in her voice anyone who under stood goat language might have detected more of annoyance than of happiness. Somewhere in the mascot's utterance was a longing for a re turn to the simple life. The pair left the jewelry store and started across the street. Midway of the thoroughfare they halted to let a snorting automobile pass LILY 117 them. The plunging car awakened a new am bition in the Wildcat's mind. "Us needs a auto'- beel. Rich folks rides in 'em an' us is rich." On the sidewalk the Wildcat turned to one of the accumulated gang of two-legged satel lites. "How much does dese autobeels cost now days?" "Thousan 5 dollahs, mebbe mo'. Depen's on de looks." "Whah at kin us git one?" Five minutes later the Wildcat was negotiating for the purchase of a car. "One of dese high tone auto'beels wid glass sides like a hot-house. Long an' slantin' back, wid de runnin' boy set- tin'* up front an' me an Lily ridin' de back seat." The matter of payment for the car was ar ranged to the satisfaction of the vendor and a car was promised for delivery at six o'clock that night. The Wildcat made his fourth trip to the bank. "You better leave some of that money on de posit," the paying teller advised. "Cap'n, yessuh. All us needs is a thousan 5 dollahs fo' a auto'beel an' a thousan 1 mo' fo' 'spenses. Eatin' money an' such." The automobile was delivered to the purchaser ii8 LILY at six o'clock. "Sho 5 looks noble. Grandes' auto'beel I eveh see. Git in, Lily." The yel low paint had made good. The Wildcat ad dressed the boy at the wheel. "How much you want to drive steady fo' me an' Lily?" The driver hired himself out at war-time daily wage and immediately regretted that he had not doubled the amount. The Wildcat climbed into the back seat beside the mascot. "Drive 'roun' an* 'roun'," he directed. "Down de main streets, an' back." He delivered a farewell address to the throng about him. "Gents, at seven o'clock me an' Lily invites you all to eat a gran' banquit at de New Home restaurant. De grub is free. Afteh de eatin' part is done de festal orgies will begin. One an' all you is welcome." For an hour, with his mascot sweating be side him, the Wildcat was driven round and round in his hot-house car according to his expressed desires. "Us is rich, Lily. Gran' clo'es, gran' auto'beel, goP watch, you an' me both. GoP headed cane, us sho' is rich an' happy." The goat attempted to dislodge a green fly which persisted in roosting under the protection of the studded collar. "What you mean shakin' yo' head no?" "Blaa-a !" Lily admitted that home had never LILY 119 been like this, but whether or not she was happy was still a question. The car stopped in front of the New Home restaurant where a hundred pairs of bulging eye balls awaited the coming of the lord of rations. Presently the hundred guests milled and per spired at the task of eating six meals on one invitation. Midway of the food battle and while his vocal organs could still function the host rared back on his hind legs and proceeded to orate into the wiggling ears of the assemblage. "Men an' brethren. Folks calls me Wilecat. I is. Once I was downtrod an' poor. I been hungry mos' all de time 'ceptin' when I was wid ol' Cap'n Jack. He was mah white folks. Many de time I'se been sad an' fo'lorn wid Lady Luck A. W. O. L. an' de claws of grief a tearin' at my in- sides. Now I'se rich an' happy an' like de preacheh says I begins to sow an' reap. Whilst I thinks of it I announces dat as soon as I kin find a good preacheh I aims to start a Wilecat chu'ch. De Wilecat preacheh ain't gwine pesteh you does you crave a ra'r of gin, week-days, an' ask how come you is so steeped in sin. Wile- cat chu'ch gwine be jes' like a lodge wid a gran' ruckus ev'ry night. Dat's all, 'ceptin' when 120 LILY de banjo boys gits heah us sees who kin shake de mos' agile foot fo' de gran' prize, whilst to de right an* lef of de dancin' flo' is li'l green pastures whah de gallopin' cubes roams wild. Does de sevens an' 'levens bloom easy you is lucky, an' does sumpthin' detain 'em you is lucky too, 'cause de Wilecat is rich an' de Wilecat pays de bills. Resoom yo' battle wid de rations." The battle slowed up an hour later and about the room a dozen crap games rattled into being. From the sea of chance the submerged losers came to the surface and drifted to the Wildcat where their gambling purses were replenished. "Come easy, go easy." In an hour the Wildcat dis covered that his supply of cash was exhausted and thereafter the festivities slowed up until the hour when the bank opened on the following day. Thenceforth for a week the Wildcat banked both sides of a losing game. Repeated warnings from the paying teller at the bank went unheeded and at the moment when the favorite of Lady Luck had realized the flavor of the false nectar the cash reserve had dwindled to a measly zero. He stood blinking at the paying teller's window. "Us aint got no mo' money?" "No more. The account is closed." "Cap'n suh, you means I'se done?" LILY 121 "You're done." "Come on, Lily. De boys is waitin'." The prowler climbed into his hot-house car. "Go back whah at de boys is," he ordered. Mid way of the journey, remembering a detail of the technique of financial recuperation he changed his orders. "Drive to de auto'beel place. Us gwine sell dis ol j hot-house trap. Some day us gits a gran' size one." A quick sale netted a hundred dollars. For Lily's watch and his own the Wildcat reaped another twenty. On foot he hurried back to the place where half a dozen crap games languidly awaited the coming of the treasury department. Perspiring under the buttoned coat which hid the place where the gaudy watch chain had dangled, swinging the gold headed cane with the old royal gesture, the Wildcat faced his guests. Thirteen seconds later the hundred and twenty was loaned to a careless devotee of the freckled risk cubes. Lady Luck whispered low and earnestly. "Beat it." "I'se on my way." Silently and without parade the Wildcat slid through the back door of the New Home res taurant. 122 LILY At evening, well into the country north of town, with the long shadows sneaking across the fields and bulking black in the depths of a wood which lined the road, the Wildcat realized that he had lived his little day of wealth. "Us went some whilst de joy road was open." Detouring around a graveyard he summoned his mascot goat beside him. "Git close heah, Lily. Some varmint git you some day. Shake dem feet. Us is Memphis bound." A rabbit in a clover patch dodged the gold headed cane. "Goodbye, brekfus'. Almos' et you, ol' cottontail." The breakfast craver started to retrieve his cane. He took ten steps and stopped. Then he turned again to the long road. "Don' crave dat oP cane. Minds me o' dem days when us wuz rich an' loaded down wid mis'ry. Us is happy now, Lily, eats when we kin git it, sleeps mos j all de time, us don't give a doggone if de sun don't neveh shine." Tramping along at her master's side, nibbling delicately on the remains of her straw hat, Lily answered, and now, in the mascot's voice, there was nothing of doubt. "Blaa-a! Me an' you both, Wildcat." CHAPTER X THE Wildcat, carrying double, lifted his fiddling feet and let Lady Luck aim them at whatever road she pleased as long as it was Memphis bound. In the frost of early morning he trod agile, to hear him tell it. Just then, to his burden of duplex ambitions, a persimmon tree, branching against the horizon up ahead, served as an added incentive to speed. Three hundred miles south of Memphis, and several meals behind his ra tion schedule, he carried twin cravings. One was named Memphis and the other Cap'n Jack. "Neveh leave each does us meet up wid 'em again." He sighted the persimmon tree and its break fast message. He issued a sharp command to his mascot goat marching behind him. "Hot foot, Lily! Double time dem hind laigs. Brekfus' table waitin'. Step wid de music!" He supplied the music, bending Sis' Eliza an' de Talkin' Gin to his persimmon ambition : 123 124 LILY Sis' Eliza had a husban' whut acted like a lamb, Handed her his wages ev'ry pay-day night. Kept a workin' steady 'till his job went BAM! E-liza's husban's job was haulm' nervous dynamite. Sky-bound, headed fo' de promis' land, Sky-bound, "Saint Peter, I shoots you fo' de key." Sky-bound, wid a lily in each hand, Sky-bound, Peter tol' him, "Don't you botheh me." The marching pair arrived at the breakfast tree and Sis' Eliza was dismissed. "Goat, rally roun' grass an' see kin you pos'pone starvin' to death whilst I 'sorbs dese p'simmons de good Lawd done sent. . . . Whuff! Whut you craves depends on who you is ... Whuff! Bes' p'simmons I ever did see. Big as chilblains. Jes' like 'em. B'longs to who gits 'em an' swells biggest when de frost hits 'em." He began to bust all established records for persimmon eating. At first he stood erect under the tree, stooping to reap his yellow breakfast, and then, with the weight of half the crop heavy within him, he crawled westward across the frosted grass, eating as he went. He reached the margin of the food-bearing area and began cutting a sunbound swath along the back trail. When the shadow of his devastating progress lay LILY 125 like a band of gray across the orange-blotched circle under the trees he again stood upright. "Whuff! Dat's de nobles' brekfus' I'se et since de stevedo' shock troops surrend'd de groceries in de battle of Vin Blank." He called to his mascot goat. "Lily, is you etyo' full ration?' Lily, leaning heavily against the briers of a blackberry bush, managed to emit an affirmative reply that had its origin near the center of a bushel of grass. "Blaa-a!" "Come on den, you fo' legged lawn-mower. Ain't no finger bowls on dis table. Git marchin'. Us is Memphis bound whah at ol' Cap'n Jack is waitin' an' a-cussin' his prodigal nigger." In the grateful morning sunlight the Wildcat resumed his northbound prowl. A little ahead of him the grass-gorged mascot lolled along in slow time with the droning exposure of poor Sis' Eliza's troubles with the Talkin' Gin. De dynamite wuz early, Eliza's man wuz late, Now he's Heaven-bound in pieces on de angel's freight. Sis' Eliza weep an' wail fo' goin' on a week, Mournin' wid her grievin' eyes, a-startin' in to pine. Preacheh come a-prowlin' 'roun', comfortin' de meek, Laborin' in de vineyard wid de clingin' vine. 126 LILY Preacheh stayed fo' supper ev'y now an' den, Smack his lips "De good Lawd He said "Feed my lamb" Chickens kep' a-dwindlin' in de widder's pen, Eliza craved religion so she didn't give a damn. The mascot goat began to punctuate her mas ter's song with an occasional detour toward little clumps of roadside grass. "Goat, you sho' is de digestinist varmint in de worl'. Did a sugar mill see you, oP mill say, 'Take de cane, I'se marked fatigue.' Did you eat trees de sawmill men git a lifetime furlough." "Blaa-a!" Lily agreed as well as she could with a grass-cluttered set of vocal organs, munch ing in time with the Talkin' Gin chorus : Saint Peter say, "You looks all mussed." "I'se been dat way since de dynamite bust." Eliza set a bilin' kittle on de fire, Filled it up wid juniper an' sassafrass mash, Aimed to give a ruckus fo' de preacheh an' de choir, Preacheh say, "Jes' you an' me, fo'git dem trash." Sis' Eliza started ladlin' out de homemade gin, "Whuff! Ol' preacheh smack his drippin's lips to thank Sis' Liz, Den his feet dey got to itchin', "Dancin' ain't no sin," Crack his heels togetheh once an' up he riz. LILY 127 "Goat, halt! At ease. Unwrap dat mil'tary bearin' f'm 'round yo'se'f. At res' whilst I sees is dese pussonal feet still 'quipped wid shufflin' brains." In the dust of the roadway, while Lily and an imaginary audience consisting of Sis' Liz and de oP preacheh burned with envy, the Wildcat sat down and removed his shoes. Then he took his feet for a dog walk. "Dey remembeh !" The dancer started slow, announcing each measure to his audience. "De Rabbit Prowl . . . rabbit hears de houn's bayin' . . . rabbit climbs de tall timber . . . coon on de lo' limb . . . Bam! OP coon hits de groun' . . . rabbit keeps a-climbin' . . . pole-cat restin' hisse'f on de mid dle limb . . . Ker-bam ! OP pole-cat splashes heavy in de dismal swamp . . . rabbit keeps a climbin' . . . Grizzle bear on de top limb. . . Bam-lam-boom ! . . . Grizzle bear squashes all de houn' dawgs when he hits de groun' . . . de Rabbit Dive . . . kick oP grizzle bear in de face, fo' time lef' and fo' time right " "Wham-lawdy ! How come!" The dance was abruptly ended on the third kick to star board. Heralded by a grunt of pain the Wild cat emerged from the center of a dust cloud which had veiled his violent exhibition, hopping on 128 LILY one foot and holding the other in both hands. 'Toot, you foun' sumpthin' you didn't lose." Sideways, out of his eyes, the foot-holder squinted to see how many toes were missing. He found the toe detail present in full strength. Gratified, he put on his shoes. "Serves me right. Folks whut is got shoes gin' ally wears J em, 'less dey is 'flicted wid de brain feebles. . . . Whut de man mean, leavin' a oP anvil layin' in de road 4 ?" He clawed around in the dust which had been his dancing stage, searching for the anvil. "Well, I be dog! Lily, look heah. Ain't no anvil, nuthin' but a oP mule-shoe. Sho' had de mule kick, might knowed dey wuz mule grief some place in dat toe mis'ry. Mule shoe, howdy, an' goodbye. Fare thee well!" He cast the iron shoe as far as he could, over into a clump of brush. Before he resumed his march he ad dressed his imaginary audience: "Preacheh, you win de dance contes'. Horse-shoe shows where Lady Luck been, mule-shoe marks de devil's road. Git to dancin', preacheh, befo' you feet gits A. W. O. L." Preacheh got to dancin' an' he went hog wild, Got to goin' noble an' started in to yell; "Sis' Eliza fill de dipper f o' yo' angel child ! I craves my wine an' wimmen, an' dey ain't no hell!" LILY 129 Hell-bound, on de primrose road, One-horse sinner wid a two-horse load. Preacheh was a-dancin' fo'-'leven-fo'ty-fo', "Watch dis foot-loose demon whirlin' 'roun you, Liza Liz !" Right when he wuz steamin* come a knockin' at de door, Preacheh stopped like he wuz hit wid lightnin' room- a-tiz. "Lily, I bet dat ol' preacheh felt like my foot when it got de howdy-doo to de mule-shoe . . . see kin I limp some . . . ol' Cap'n Jack see me limpin' he say 'Wilecat, quit dat limpin' befo' I kicks you loose f'm yo' pussonal 'natomy whut kaint limp 'less you hiccough.' Sky-bound, fo' his home on high, Sky-bound, with a feather in each han', Sky-bound, jes' beginnin' to fly, Sky-bound, grazin de promis' land. "Who dat?" Eliza holler. "Who beatin' on dat door?" A dwindlin' voice come soundin' f'm de night, "Liza, dis yo' husban'. Ain't gwine to leave no mo*. I win dat wrasslin' battle wid de dynamite." Ol' preacheh started leavin' he busted through de wall, Whilst Eliza opened up de cabin door A-lookin' and a-callin', never seed no one at all Den she throwed a 'niption fit across de floor. 130 LILY Sky-bound, hear de angels sing, Sky-bound, kaint hear anything. De preacheh still a-gallopin' de sinful road, Sis' Eliza she repented loose a load of sin, Said she'd a-backslid mighty light if she'd a-knowed De ruin dat wuz brewin' in dat talkin' gin. "Goat, dat's all. Dat learns you never to pester wid dynamite. Gin ain't so bad 'less you gits reckless an' tries to swim upstream in Gin River. Float wid de current but look out fo ? de big eddies whut drags you undeh. . . . Dog gone, I sho' craves to git wid Cap'n Jack, 'spe cially now dat de winter weatheh is so ravagin' in de land." By the time night had fallen the craver and his mascot goat were about twelve miles nearer Captain Jack than they had been that morn ing. Lying down in the frosts of evening and trying to sleep didn't make any gilt-spangled appeal and so the hungry pair continued their march throughout the night. At dawn the Wildcat sought a sun-swept gully a little off the road'. There, protected from the chill wind he curled up with Lily beside him and snored himself forty miles away from mule-shoe luck. "Same as de A. E. F. 'ceptin' LILY 131 cooties an' rations. Hot dam, Lily, whah at is de oP mess sergeant? Whah at is Lady Luck? Git to sleep, goat. Say yo' prayers dat Lady Luck don't rush past us does she come dis way." CHAPTER XI NORTHBOUND and acutely conscious of an empty stomach that for two days had been as useless as a stakeholder in a crap game, the Wildcat welcomed a trio of church steeples rising against the horizon before him. "Hot foot, Lily! Whah dey's chu'ches dey's a town an' whah dey's a town us gits a job. Craves me a job. Kaint eat 'less us works, kaint eat steady. Eatin' ain't nothin' 'less it's de steady kind. I had enough temp'rary now. an' -den rations in de A. E. F. to las' me till ol' Gabriel sputters de las' 'sembly in de brass hawn on high. . . . Double-time yo'se'f, goat! Lady Luck likely waitin' whah you sees dem fac'try chimblys again de sky, behin' dem chu'ches. Us is luck bound! Ramble!" Near the edge of the town, almost smelling the gravy, the Wildcat stepped out at a five- mile pace. Lily, trotting along behind him, heard her master mask his appetite in a thin veil of song: 132 LILY 133 "Luck bound, on mah fiddlin' feet, "Luck bound, an' a-craving to eat, Luck bound, whah de rations wait, I'se luck bound at a gallopin* gait." At the edge of town the singer growled an order toward his mascot. "Slack up yo' gallop, Lily. Slow down befo' some deppity marshal thinks us is runnin' away f'm whah dey is some body dat los' something whut wuz took." Rich in experience the Wildcat passed the churches and the residence district of the little town without halting. He hesitated for half a minute before a little restaurant on the main street and then, without stopping, resumed his course. "Dat grub smell jes' like heaven! Drives me like de long lash leather burnin' mule hide. Come on heah, goat, to whah de work is waitin' ! Kaint buy no rations wid talk. Fo' bits do mo' talkin' wid de res' rant man dan all de whut-you-wuz words in de world." He plodded down the streets of the town until the substantial buildings had given place to the broken residences of the poorer element of the community and presently the gate of a stockade surrounding a sugar refinery confronted him. He addressed the watchman at the gate. "I'se 134 lookin' fo' a job. Whah at is de man whut hires de hands?" The watchman discouraged him. "Ain't hir- in' no hands." The Wildcat looked hard at the watchman arid by reason of a similarity of complexions, ven tured some more language. "Boy, don't tell me no ain'ts. I'se so hungry I'se fish-deaf when de ain'ts is spoke. I ax you, whah at is de man?" The watchman conceded a point. "You finds him in de li'l shack by de boilin' mill. Dat's de office. Walk in does you crave to. All I tells you is double up so you won't land so heavy when you gits thro wed out." The Wildcat walked to the office shack and entered it. A moment later he faced the super intendent of the sugar mill. "Cap'n suh, me an' Lily craves a job o' work so us kin eat." A gentle gesture with the hand that held his hat indicated the mascot goat. "Who is Lily?" "Dis heah goat. Luck mascot. Whaheveh Lily is oP Lady Luck gwine come prowlin' soon o' late." The superintendent was no more superstitious than the average man who dodges ladders and picks up pins and avoids Friday thirteens, but LILY 135 the sugar market was feeble and he couldn't afford to take a chance with his luck. The Wild cat had him hooked. "What can you do^" "Cap'n suh, mos' any liftin' jobs, up or down, or workin' wid a shovel. I'se good wid animils an' mules. Mules I reg'lates. I rules mules. I knows some 'bout machinery, shovel in' coal an' on an' off wid wateh valves. Steam valves I ain't learned. Place gits cloudy so quick when steam busts dat a boy kaint think jes' which." "Come with me. Three dollars a day." "Cap'n suh, you means I'se hired*?" "You're hired. Come on here." "Hot dam! Come 'long, Lily, to whah Lady Luck is waitin' ! Foller de Cap'n an' tread gentle befo' I knocks you nine miles f'm pay-day." Following the guide toward the meeting point with Lady Luck the Wildcat and Lily walked from the office and crossed a hundred foot open space to a tall wooden building which looked old and tired, and which housed a battery of six huge molasses storage tanks. Inside the build ing he became conscious of the humming of a myriad idle flies, noting that an equal number were silent at their feasting. He mounted a narrow stairway leading to a platform thirty feet above ground level. Here, standing before 13$ LILY an intricate system of pipes and valves and bat ting at a cloud of buzzing flies, he listened to orders. "These six valves painted red are the molasses feed- valves in the pipe lines that fill the six wooden tanks below us. The numbers show you which is which, tanks numbered the same way on those boards nailed to the staves. Number Four is feeding now. Takes about an hour to fill a tank. When the molasses gets to the red danger-mark, you can see it painted there, shut off the feed-valve and fill the next tank. By the time Number Six is filled Number One ought to be empty. That's all. You know how to work it?" "Cap'n, yessuh! Sho' do!" With his ap petite dictating the text of his reply the Wildcat would have taken a chance on operating an air plane and a submarine with his right hand while juggling the Theory of Relativity with his left, if success had meant hoe cake and ham gravy. "Cap'n suh, you say dat pourin' out stuff is 'lasses?" "That's it." The superintendent called down to a man standing in the web of the piping sys tem below. "Stay with those outlet valves now, Demmy. New boy handling the overhead feed LILY 137 up here." He turned to the Wildcat for a final word. "Your shift is twelve hours on, ends at midnight; begins at noon. Two whistles." "Cap'n, yessuh." Just then the working shift might have been as continuous as human sin with out having much effect on the Wildcat's im mediate future. What he wanted most at that moment was to be left alone with his work, for here was a job a boy could eat. "Bettxh dan a res' rant job. Nobody kin count 'lasses. Neveh miss a few 'lasses wid so many on hand. . . . Stan' back f'm de edge, Lily, befo' us has to strain you out wid de res' of de flies." Five seconds after the superintendent disap peared down the stairway the Wildcat reached a cupped hand under the surface of the dark liquid in tank Number Three. "Whuff ! Sho' is noble ! Bes' long sweetnin' us eveh et !" Feed me now while I still can chew Don't pos'pone it till it's overdue. Boon me wid flowers, but boon me while I still kin smell, Boon me wid rations, boon me while I still kin eat, Boon me wid raiment, don't need no heavy clothes in hell, Boon me wid likker, but boon me while de gin tastes sweet. 138 LILY After ten minutes steady dipping he summoned the mascot. "Goat, come heah an' git yo' drip- pin's f'm Lady Luck's skillet." He called again, but Lily was engaged in eating eight feet of mo lasses soaked waste which she was unwrapping from around a leaking valve stem. "Suit yo'se'f. Eat m' chine ry does you crave it. As fo j me, de long sweetnin' is mah pussonal fail in' ! Whuff!" With the edge of his appetite dulled by half a gallon of warm molasses the Wildcat remem bered the rudiments of his technical obligation. He walked over to Number Four tank and peered down into it. "Kaint see no red mark, Lawd Gawd, mebbe de ol j red paint mark is drownded!" He looked again at the level of the viscous liquid in the tank and cast a glance side- wise at the three filled tanks. "Looks de same as de othehs. Whut dat white man say do, shut dis off, turn dat one on, fo' down, off. Five down, on. Dat's it! Sho' is! Us knows dis on an' off bizness wid de pipes. Jes' like a steamboat. Huh ! Us knows all about dis biz- ness, all an' den some!" Serene for the moment in the belief that there was mighty little left for him to learn about the tank filling profession the Wildcat indulged in a LILY 139 little vocal visiting. He called down into the darkness. "Demmy, you dab?" "Whah you spec' I is. Who is you, topside ?" "I'se de handler whut runs dese mix-up pipe things dat " "Knows whut you is. I'se axin' who is you*?' 1 "Folks call me Wildcat . . . whut dat 'Demmy' name mean, Demmy-john o j Demmy- crat? Dat yo' police name o' yo' votin' name 4 ?" "Whut I goes by. Used to run dinin' car till I strained mahse'f. .Folks called me Demmy Tass 'count I neveh got mah full growth." "Whut you mean strained yo'se'f *?" "Eatin' so heavy. Had to quit an' git 'way f m so close to de grub." "You ain't fur f'm grub now. Dis long sweetnin's de bes' rations I'se et fo' many a day." "Wilecat, don't eat dat stuff! Dem 'lasses is half sour now an' does dey hold 'em one mo' night dey foments so much de flies gits staggerin' drunk f'm de smell alone. Leave dat long sweetnin' go 'less you craves de stummick mis'ry." "Demmy, dey's two kinds, de full mis'ry an' de vacant. Rich folks has de full stummick mis'ry an' de poor has de otheh kind. How HO LILY come de flies git so drunk? Is dis stuff got somethin' in it whut keeps it f'm gittin' lone some ?" "Sho' has when she gits oP an vig'rous. Dey makes rum f m 'lasses, folks whut kin wait dat long. Me, I drinks mah vigor whilst it's still mah size. Drink dis 'lasses afteh it fo'ments long 'miff an' de fust thing you heah's de judge sayin' 'Six months an' leave de hardware on him.' " "No judge ain't said nuthin' to me fo' de longes' time, I don't crave to hear none. Ain't dey a place in dis town whah a boy kin git some tame likker?" "Sev'al. Dey is in all towns. Thought you wuz bust, talkin' dat hungry talk all de time." "I is. Aims to build up though. Craves mos' to git on my way to Memphis whah oP Cap'n Jack is waitin' but a ra'r of likker now an' then might help me beah my cross." ^ "Who dis Cap'n Jack?" "He's mah white folks. You mus' a-knowed 'bout him. Won de wah in de A. E. F. agin' dem German boys." "Win it single-handed?" "Single-handed 'ceptin' us shock troops in de LILY 141 Fust Service Battalion an' dem Eighteenth Engineer boys an 5 Lootenant Hudson." "Heard 'bout you. You is de troops whut run dem Germans to death, leadin' 'em. You sho' covered de groun' when you got goin'.' J "Demmy, you talks like dem flyin' squab boys tellin' de quart'masteh how much groceries a hero needs. But I fo'gits an j fo'gives. Wah is done now, an' us won it. Dat's all." "Whut you mean, won it*?" "Still got it, ain't we? No likker, no work, no money, no boonus, no rations, an' only half clo'es enough to hoi' de buttons. Dat's hell, ain't it? So is wah. If anybody win it us did. Hope us lose it some day." "Good times comin'." "Goin', you means. Demmy, you is twisted an' headed backwa'ds. I'se lookin' at to-day, an' tomorr'.' "Wilecat, dem 'lasses you et is soured you. Yo' nach'ral sweetness is fo'mented. Betteh git on dat Numbeh Six tank, only takes a hour to fill each tank. Wait 'till us quits to-night an* I leads you to a place whah you gits real grub an' mebbe a ra'r of real likker." "Demmy, you sounds like heaven. Gam'lin* too?" 142 LILY "Some, in case you is 'flicted wid de bone cravinV "Whut you think I means, dis heah boy -size gam' 1 in wid spinnin' tops whut says grab o' do nate 4 ? Huh! All right fo' folks whut kaint read but when us trails Lady Luck us craves action. Don't want no tilly winks pesterin' me. Don't want nothin' spinnin' 'roun' whilst I drops dead wid anxious heart disease. Bam! Read an' repeat. Fire an' fall back. Dat's me." "Wilecat, dem words goes double! Me an j you each. De bones speaks de verdick long be- fo' dem tops quits spinnin' an' stutterin' like dese pledge-signin' boys sayin' yes to a gin ruckus in vite. Boy, to-night I leads you f'm de straight an' narrow to de wide an' pleasant." "You soun's noble. Preacheh say de way of de progressor is hard surfaced, us mebbe makes some speed when us gits off dis long grief lane." The Wildcat turned to his work. He fumbled around with the feed valve to Number Six tank and when the stream of heavy liquid was pitching downward into the black depths of the tank he relaxed his attention to duty long enough to eat another quart of slightly fermented molasses. The six tanks were connected at the level of the red danger marks by eight-inch overflow pipes LILY 143 which limited the liquid level as long as any one of the tanks was not filled. On a narrow plank running from one of these short connecting pipes to the edge of the operating platform the Wildcat sat for half an hour, dipping down and hoisting his dripping cargo to his wide mouth. After a while, temporarily gorged to flood stage, he slacked up. In two minutes his head was nodding and he was asleep. Twice he rolled dangerously near the point beyond which recovery of his equilibrium was impossible and then the sub-conscious mir acles ceased and in his sleep he stretched full length along the narrow plank that bridged a gulf almost entirely surrounded by luke-warm molasses. Meanwhile, a little apart from the sleeping valve-tender, Lily and Number Six tank were filling up the best they knew how without the Wildcat's pussonal supervision. CHAPTER XII AT sundown, while the Wildcat slept, Demmy ducked out of the tank house and headed for a loose board in the stockade fence. Stealth marked his movements. He slid through the narrow opening in the fence and then, like an elusive black shadow, he prowled d^wn along an eroded gully which led to the back door of a dilapidated house whose com panion structures lifted their broken fronts along the staggering boundary of a crooked street. At a door opening into the basement of the house three steps below ground line, he knocked the two-one-four signal which announced the arrival of one to whom the ritual of admission was old stuff. A moment later the blue calico curtain behind a small glass panel was drawn to one side. "It's Demmy," the visitor whispered. "Leave me in." The dpor opened and the sawed-off brunet dived into the darkness of the basement. He 144 LILY 145 walked ten feet in the darkness and then two heavy curtains in front of him opened upon a dimly lighted room twenty feet square. The air of the room was soggy with the gases trailing from a score of semi-fireproof cigars and under this odor of burning vegetation was the sour scent of alcohol and the acrid tang common to packed and perspiring humanity. The newcomer twisted his way between three groups of players seated around card tables and found the man he sought, back of a semi-circular green table. On the felt-covered top a pair of active dice galloped around with the latest bul letins from Lady Luck's headquarters. Demmy waited until the bank collected on a delayed seven and then spoke to the banker. "Sledge, come wid me to de li'l room a minit. Us has bizness." The banker was quick to obey the summons. He turned the game over to a Friday-hand and followed Demmy into a smaller room opening from the main pasture of chance. "Whut you want?" "They's a new boy on de top valves." Demmy hesitated long enough for this news to hit the target. "Looks like a quick-learnin' boy, Sledge. M'ebbe I betteh bring him oveh heah to-night an' 146 LILY git him gentle an' wise befo' he 'vestigates 'roun* an* finds dat inch pipe whut runs f'm de 'lassej tanks to yo 5 'stillery room downstairs. Whut you think T "You is right, Demmy. Betteh bring him an' show him de sights, bring 'em befo' dey comes prowlin' is my motto. Whut kind is dis boy*" "Memphis nigger. Name Wildcat. Fit in de war, but 'ceptin' fo' dat he seems bright." "Fetch him heah at nine o'clock." "Us comes at nine. An' Sledge, mebbe you betteh have some grub an' a ra'r of de home made hootch waitin' to say howdy-doo. Boy ain't et lately an' he gits fren'ly when de rations is donated." "Rations is comin' up. An' all de likker he kin handle." The moonshining host stripped a banknote from his roll. "Heah, Demmy, lend him dis five dollah bill so he kin take a bite at de relief c'mittee wid de square teeth. Dat's all right, dem fust-aid cubes pays me back. Likely be a big game to-night. Big gang comin', 'nitiation night fo' de colored Damons an' dey gin' ally gits heah at ten o'clock fo' de final cer'- monies. See you an' dis Wilecat boy at nine o'clock. Sez goodnight 'till dat time." Demmy slid out into the big room and from LILY 147 there into the night which veiled his journey to the stockade fence. He wriggled through the fence via the loose board route and walked si lently to his post of duty. He entered the tank- house in which three incandescents had bloomed during his absence. Then he became aware of a series of strange noises originating above him. The disturbance sounded to his quickened ears like a vocal omelet of groans and bleats and gurgles. He hesitated a moment and then as quickly as his short legs would carry him he mounted the narrow stairway and explored the length of the operating platform that ranged the open molasses tanks. On the plank leading from the platform to the connecting pipe between the third and fourth tanks he saw the sleeping Wildcat, stretched at full length and undulating to an accompaniment of incoherent mumbling. The Wildcat's mouth was open and as near as Demmy could make out the mumbler was trying to gurgle the chorus from the Madhouse Banquet song. A moment later the muttering victim of luke warm molasses was half awake and all ashore^ sitting up on the platform near the control valves, Demmy relaxed his grip on his companion. 148 LILY "Wake up, Wilecat ! Heah us is. Wake up, you been ridin' a nightmare." "How come! Whah at is us?' "Heah you is. Dis is Demmy wid you. You'se been dream in V J "Wuz dat dreamin' . . . dream mah mascot goat . . . was swimmin' . . . in de 'lasses riveh . . . an' went oveh de falls an' . . .what dat!" Sharply into the steady gurgling of the flow ing molasses came Lily's voice. A single bleat, eloquent with distress, fell on the listener's ears. "Dat's Lily! Callin' me! Dat dream wuz true, leggo, Demmy." A moment later the searching pair found the source of the S. O. S. in Tank Six. Riding a submerged soap-box which she had carried over the edge of the tank with her in her fall, Lily drifted with the tide, submerged to the gills in the heavy flood of sweet temptation. "Blaa-a!" Seeing the Wildcat's dim outline the drifting mascot voiced an overwhelming vote against bulk molasses. "I'se comin'! Hang on, goat! Us gits you de nex' time roun' !" A moment later the drifter came within reach. The Wildcat clutched at Lily's neck, lifted, LILY 149 grabbed the mascot's forelegs and hauled the drip ping truant upward to the security of the plat form. "Stan 5 still. Do yo' drippin' in one place, goat, else us pays back all de woe you'se 'posited in de hell bank fo' de las' ten years!" "Blaa-a! Heeet!" Lily apologized. Then she sneezed and shook herself, one leg at a time, losing weight, meanwhile, like a squeezed sponge. She tried to mask her chagrin in a violent wag ging of head and tail. The Wildcat interpreted these contortions as rank anarchy. "Shut up dem sass words, goat! Come to ten-shun an' stick dere! Drip small befo' I knocks you silo high an' swamp wide!" Demmy, having retrieved the drifting soap box, interrupted the chastening. "Lead dat prong-head fly-bait down de stairs till us kin run de wateh hose on him." He added some pro fessional advice. "Betteh shut off Numbeh Six an' start fillin' Numbeh One again." The Wildcat spoke a sharp command to the dripping mascot. "Ten-shun! As you is! Let de 'lasses dribble till us gits back!" He walked to the valve rack and altered the flow of the supply stream as Demmy had advised. Then, followed by his four-legged fly-lure he marched downstairs to where Demmy had the 150 LILY water ready and waiting for the bath business. "Stan' still, goat, 'till us baptizes you loose f 'm dat sweet raiment. You sho' is de dis-reptile lookinist varmint I eveh seed. Turn 'roun', drippin' fool, whilst us gives you a mussage, an* a nanny-cure wid dis gunny sack." A little before nine o'clock the beauty treat ment was completed except for a few areas of matted goat hair in whose environment still oozed enough molasses to create a weather-proof coat. The discouraged Demmy called a halt. "Goats is nach'ral born 'cumlators when it comes to 'lasses. Us an' de flies neveh kin git dis mascot unwropped f'm dem 'lasses. Got to grow out an' wear off. Dat takes time. Leave him be, Wilecat. Us is due now fo' a visit to a house down de gully. Dey's 'sprisin' ruckus waitin' fo' us." Demmy was a better prophet than he knew. The Wildcat gave Lily some orders. "At case! Walk yo' post whilst us sees is de m'chinery runnin' right." He addressed Demmy. "How long will us be gone away, Demmy *?" "Midnight, mebbe. Us comes back ev'y hour an' ranges de valves. Got to git back in time to quit at midnight." The Wildcat went above to the operating LILY 151 platform and when he returned Demmy handed him the five-dollar bill which the moonshining king of the gambling joint had provided for the newman. "Heah's a stake fo' you, Wilecat, if you craves to take a ra'r at de cube croquet in de place whah us is gwine*?" "Five dollahs! Demmy, how come! Boy, dat sho' is de right han' of f ren'ship. Hot dam ! Somethin' tells me dat's a big five. I'se had money an' I'se lost it when de gallopers got backslid but 'less dis bunch is lyin' dis is my night. Us reaps! Reaps big, an' half whut I gits is yo' reward fo' ketchin' dis five-spot." Demmy, wise to the technical perfection of Sledge's establishment, smiled a twisted and skeptical smile at the Wildcat's enthusiastic as surance. "Spec' us buys a house an' lot befo' you gits done buildin' up f'm dat five dollah start, Wilecat. Hope so, but mebbe not. Bring dat goat an' le's go." He led the way through the shadows to the loose board in the stockade fence and a moment later the trio were marching down the channel of the gully which led to the back-door of the theatre of action. The two-one-four knock sounded on the door. Five seconds later the door opened, narrowly, and then the Wildcat 152 LILY was being introduced to the proprietor of the place. Before the ceremony had been completed a plate of sandwiches appeared from some source and into the Wildcat's free hand was thrust a goblet filled with rum which had been made in the sub-cellar of the Sledge establishment. "Cir culate 'rounV Sledge invited. "Us hopes you an* Demmy enjoys yo'se'f an 7 makes de place yo' tem'prary stampin' groun," the host concluded. "Sledge, sho j will! -Heah's howdy . . . Whuff! Noble likker. Noble rations." Half a sandwich disappeared into the Wildcat's mouth and further talk was abandoned. "Don't aim to let no howdy-doo gabblin' stop me an' dis grub gittin' 'quainted. Col' pork an' good soggy bread! Gran' likker! Lady Luck, keep yo' heaven!" During the next five minutes all the sandr wiches and two more goblets of rum were added to the Wildcat's cargo. He molded his mouth back into place with the back of his hand. "Demmy, dis a gran' place to be. Dat Sledge man seems real fren'ly." "Sho' is," Demmy agreed. "You crave some mo' likker an' grub, Wilecat*? You kin git all you wants." "Demmy, I sez yes, but at de present rmnnit LILY 153 dis pussonal stummick I'se 'quipped wid sez no right to mah face.' 1 "Leave it rest. De deep dish banquit com mences in half hour anyway, begins right afteh de Unifawm Guards gits heah." "How come, guards?" "Sons o' Damon. Lodge boys. Dis is de 'nitiation night an' dey give de Social Degree heah at Sledge's place. Gran' rally. You meets de real folks. Dey's seven can'dates whut gits de 'Steemed Yaller Sash to-night. . . . Lily! Whut dat goat eatin' !" The mascot, having finished the bread-crusts from the last four sandwiches which the Wild cat had eaten, had cast her eyes around in search of casual amusement until, at the level of her nose, crimped between a card-player's leg and the chair seat, she had discovered two idle bits of pasteboard. When Demmy saw her the final fragments of the second ace were being munched into pulp. Demmy handed out some low-pitched advice. "Wilecat, 'strain dat goat. Does he eat ev' helpin' card he sees he is likely git into bad trouble. Some man need an extry ace an' find out dat goat et it dey might be blades wavin' befo' you 'splained it." 154 L I L Y "Lily, rally 'way back ! Goat, one mo j stumble on dis sin road you is travellin' an 1 you falls hard. Whut you mean, s'questerin' dat card! Stan' heah befo' us knocks you loose m de rest o j dem 'lasses." To his guide the Wildcat made apologies for his mascot's conduct. "Lily ain't learned no betteh, started wid a ahmy trainin' an' neveh had a chance to repent an' sin no mo'." "Dat's all right, Wilecat, only you betteh keep de eagle eye on dat animil befo' he eats up a card some man needs real bad . . . 'muse yo'- se'f 'till I gits back. Got to see is de ol' 'lasses valves doin' all right. I 'tends de top side fo' you whilst I'se gone. Stay heah an' do yo'se'f proud." "Sho' will. Lily, come wid me." He edged toward the crap table behind which Sledge was banking the house bets. At the table he greeted the fringe of ivory hunters. "Men, howdy." He fished for his five-dollar bill. Finding it he broke out with an acute attack of spotted fever. Impatient, he waited until the orphan cubes yearned for a step-father. "Pass us dem limpin' leopards 'till dey learns who is de spot-changin' lion tamer. Major babies, meet yo' gin'ral. Beef bones, de butcher is whettiri' de knife. LILYi 155 Sledge, I'se got five dollahs an' de hook feels de bait. Shoots de five!" "Wilecat, you soun's ol' time. You is faded an' I hopes you win. Unravel yo' luck." The banker, needing the Wildcat's favor in the dis tillery department, meant what he said. "Roll 'em!" "Whuff! An' I reads, five-dooce! Jitney an' twins. Lets it ride. Shoots de Ten-o-see. I'se a five passin' fool an' de money clock sez one. . . . Funeral bones, slow but sure! An' howdy-doo six-ace. Half a jury an' de ol' judge. . . . Sledge, dat's two an' dey's three mo' passes nes'lin' in mah han'. Shoots de twenty. Fade me an' weigh less." "Bank fades you. Pull de trigger." "Bam! An' I sees, 'leven f'm heaven! Short an' painless, like a wooden laig. Dat's forty an' I lets it sleep. Shoots de forty, wid two passes hatchin' de money eggs." The smile was fixed on the banker's face but his reply assumed the brevity from which the honey of courtesy had ceased to drip. "Roll 'em." To his aid the Wildcat summoned the rudi- iments of an education received at the hands of an uncle whose technical perfection with twin 156 LILY dice had finally resulted in a meeting of the creditors where the expert's remains were viewed and cursed by one and all after being marked "Perishable. Rush. Use no Hooks." "Dixie dice, drip yo' money dew. Green hay, de harves' man is got you. Wham! ... an* Li'l Joe leads de quartet. Hot dam ! Joe, you 'members who fed you. Re-turn back on fo' wheels. Whuff! Dat's nine ... an' eight. Dice, git small. I reads five . . . an' dey sez six ... an' ten. Craves double twins. Lady Luck, whah at is you ... an' I reads dooce an' dooce ! Lady Luck sho' got ears. Dat's eighty on de table an' I shoots it all. Fade eighty an' lock de safe ! Shoots eighty dollahs." Nobody ever made five passes with the house dice. "Roll 'em!" Sledge sensed a profitable conclusion to the Wildcat's run of luck. "Roll 'em, an' us ships de fragments to yo' next o' kin." "Baby money, nutrify an' grow big. Ice dice, melt an' shower down. Wham! Read de top sides an' you reads . . . six-ace! Dat's five passes. Drags down. Shoots a hund'ed. Fade me, is you " "Heah's de Damons," Sledge interrupted. LILY 157 "Pos'pone dis a minnit, Wilecat." The banker was glad of the opportune alibi. He circulated around as long as he could, hoping to sidetrack the Wildcat, but when he returned to the crap table he noted with deep disgust that the victim in the recent session had held his place. Submerged in the crowd, Sledge saw Demmy, who had returned from his momentary attention to the valves in the molasses tank-house. He summoned the sawed-off individual to the little room. "Demmy, who is dis Wilecat boy?" he whispered his question. "Sledge, ask me! Neveh seed dat boy befo' noon to-day. Been watchin' him ramble. Right agile wid de clickers." "You neveh seed him befo' noon . . . Boy, 'less he changes you ain't gwine see him much afteh midnight. Bizness is business an' fren's is fren's, Demmy, but de way he's travellin' I betteh give him de place an' git me a pay-day job. You brung him heah, betteh git him out. All de 'lasses whut runs into de 'stillery pipe down stairs don't mean nothin' 'longside de way he's robbin' de safe wid whut he calls luck. Luck! Demmy, de way dat six-ace come wid dem taper dice shows me jes' one thing an' dat's 158 LILY a nigger's neck lonesome fo' a wire-edge blood hook. Git him out soon as you kin, else I sets de iron swingin' twins on his track." "Sledge, I gits him out. Don't start no blood- ruckus whilst de Damons is all rallied 'roun', kaint tell 'bout dem lodge fools. Dat Wilecat might make some lodge sign an' git de whole lodge helpin' him spread mis'ry an' distress, I gits him out quiet, oozes him out befo' he knowg whah at he is." "Git oozin' !" "I is," Followed by Sledge, Demmy slipped back: into the big room. He edged his way as quickly as he could to the Wildcat's side. "Boy," he whis pered, "lissen to me. Betteh git back to de job. OP night-rounder come an' find you mis- sin' you ain't got no mo' job dan a fish kia sing." "Don't craves no job, Demmy. Don't need no job whilst Lady Luck does de work. Don't pester wid me now, I got three things 'cumul ated dat's been a long time comin' luck, money an' de clickers." He faced the audience and LILY 159 voiced his challenge. "Gents an' Damons, rally whilst de Wilecat treads his prowl !" He turned to the crap table. "Bank man, shoots a hund'ed." From his seat at the banking center Sledge cast an acid glance at Demmy. Then, reluc tantly yielding to the obligations imposed by his official rank, he covered the Wildcat's stake. "Shoot!" "De second session an' de gallopers is had a recess. Dice, wake up an' git in de collah. Bugle babies, sound de pay-call. Wham! . . . an' de lodge folks sees seven ! De cash quartet wid Faith, Hope an' Charity. I lets it stay seed 'till de big money sprouts. Sledge, shoots two hund'ed. Lodge folks, watch de second de gree!" His invitation was superfluous for by that time the crap table had become the center of interest. Sons of Damon, straining in store clothes and the yaller sashes of their Order, with one accord bent their plumed head-gear in the direction of the big money game. Above open mouths, in the half-light of the room, white eye-balls rolled in weaving platoons. "Dat boy gone hog wile! . . Bet ol' Sledge quit befo' long.^. . . Look at dat Sledge man sweat !" 160 LILY "Shoots two hund'ed! Shoots de scenery, 'less de bank is feeble." "Bank's all right. Shoot." The Wildcat's hand gyrated about his head and returned to the level of the table. Hardly touch ing the green cloth the twin cubes' leaped to ward the fenced edge and bounced half-way back, spinning with that certificate of virtue without which no crap-shooter in a house game would long retain his health and strength. "Wham! I reads 'em rollin', an' when dey rests dey tells de worl' . . . Jury wid de fo'man A. W. O. L. ! Dat's 'leven! ... I drags down de widder's mite an' whut dat you say, Lily?" An eager Son of Damon had stepped on Lily's; foot and the mascot's remonstrance lifted sharply above the Wildcat's words. "Blaa-a!" "Goat, you say let it ride*? . . . Sledge, us; lets it lay. Dat mascot neveh guessed wrong yit ! ' Shoots de fo' hund'ed." "Wilecat, keep de ivory a minnit 'till de bank; visits de safe." Sledge stood up and walked to ward the little room. En route, with the two slight inclinations of his head he summoned ai brace of followers. When the door had closed! behind them the trio went into executive session. Sledge whispered three quick orders. "Dis is de LILY 161 las' pass," he confided. "I tells him Fse done. When he leaves, all I tells you is fetch back de cash, an 5 use de black-jack. No blades. Don't want no p'lice findin' nothin', nothin' a-tall! Dat's dat." Sledge returned to his place at the table and counted out four hundred dollars. He laid it down. "Wilecat, de bank announces de finish fade. You is reached de play limit fo' de night." To himself he added another reservation. "If he makes dis pass it's de las' one he makes 'till some fool fades him in hell !" At the Wildcat's side, sensing the fatal conse quences of success, Demmy tried again to drag his companion away from the game. "Wilecat, fo' de las' time I tells you dem 'lasses needs de tanks changed. Come on wid me befo' dey busts." "Demmy, at res' ! As you is. Git calm. I leaves wid you when I shows dese lodge boys dis bank bustin' pass wid de dynamite dice. Leggo ! Watch de cyclone seed git big !" He turned to the wide green table. He held the dice in his left hand and reached down gently with his right until his exploring fingers en countered Lily's uplifted head. "Lily, I tags you fo' luck." He transferred the dice to the i6z LILY* luck-infested fingers of his right hand. For an instant he was calm, dispatching to his finger tips a summons for the exquisite technique of ab solute control. Then! "Rifle dice, de las' cat'- ridge! Bam! 9 . an' twins in de jitney! Five-dooce !" The Wildcat reached for the money and parked it quickly in the depths of his pockets. "Sledge, me an' Lily bids you goodnight. Lodge folks, sho' proud to know you. Sez goodnight 'till de nex' session/' He turned to the door. "Come on heah, Demmy. Us got to 'range dem 'lasses. Come 'long, Lily. Say goodnight to de meetin'." "Blaa-a!" The mascot spoke her farewell as clearly as she could with her face crowded with a five-cent cigar that had been dropped by an ex cited Son of Damon. "Ba-a ! Blaa-a !" Under the ripple of laughing comment that fol lowed the mascot's message Sledge whispered three words to a pair of desperate giants beside him, "Git him now!" CHAPTER XIII TEN feet behind the Wildcat and Demmy on their way out of the Sledge establish ment the messengers of violence followed them to the exit. At the door the Wildcat turned for. a moment and looked back. "Seems quieted down a lot, Demmy. Us must of killed de eve- nin's joy wid dat las' pass." He faced the door. Behind him the brace of sluggers stepped forward to trail him into the night. "Demmy^ seems like; de. ruckus is all died down." The Wildcat stepped through the door, into the dark, as Demmy voiced his reply, and on the instant Demmy's words were smothered a mile deep beneath the crash of a new ruckus that lifted around the pair. Then, ahead of him, Demmy heard the Wild- 163 164 LILY cat's voice above the tumult. "Lawd Gawd, Lady Luck, float me high!'' In the faint light Demmy saw the Wildcat grab for Lily and then he felt a grip of steel about his wrist. "Demmy, dey's a deep flood! I drags you out!" Around the Wildcat's waist, down the gully leading to the room where the evening's ruckus had so lately died, whirled a black eddying stream on whose surface rode twisted rafts of tank staves and timbers from the wrecked tank house. The Wildcat, doubly burdened, stumbled once and disappeared beneath the flood. He came up, spouting like a whale and shak ing his head free from its intimate covering. "Whuff! 'Lasses! . . . Kick wid yo' feet, Demmy, dey's high groun' close. . . . 'Lasses tanks an' dat crap game both bust de same minnit! Feel wid yo' feet. Kaint keep me an' dis goat's haid up much longeh. . . . Whuff! . . . Lawd Gawd, heah's de high groun' !" Heavily freighted and swimming hard against the current of molasses that swirled down the gully the Wildcat felt the solid earth under him. Five seconds later he and his two companions were ten feet up the bank. "Hot dam ! Demmy, dat was sho' heavy draggin' . . . Whuff! . . . LILY 165 Stay heah wid Lily whilst I goes back and see does any Sons o' Damon crave a helpin' hand." He turned again toward the Sledge establish ment. In the dim light shining from the curtained windows of the Sledge basement there suddenly appeared a rush of panic-stricken Sons of Da mon, and each Son was trying his pussonal best to unwrap himself free from his oozing shroud of brown liquid. Plumes and sashes, store clothes and complex ions were one color now, and the green crap tables which had been the field of evening battle was flooded deep with the flowing molasses. Lodge brothers, slicker than diving seals, for got the ritual of departure and waded to their necks in a wild stampede for the windows. Demmy scooped/ enough of the sticky stuff away from his face to permit his organs of speech to function. He reached out a restraining hand and cluched the Wildcat's arm. "Wilecat, dem 'lasses kaint git mo' dan five feet deep in dat place, runs out de winders to de front street befo' dat. Stay 'way f'm dem folks. Don't ast me mi thin', fetch dat goat an' us busts de leavin' time whilst de bars is down." Impressed by his companion's words the Wild- 166 LILY cat guessed the concealed half of Demmy' s warn ing. "Demmy, I'se wid you !" He turned to the mascot. "Come on heah, an* come runnin'. Le'sgo!" A mile out of town the trio waded into the waters of a little creek, emerging presently, fit to travel half as fast as Demmy advised. "Wile- cat, hit de hot foot 'till us ketches de no'thbound train at de crossin' tower stop whah you sees dem green lights. Us is lef dis Ruddville town fo' de las' time/' c Tsc comin', Demmy. OP town ain't so bad, -^-you an' me made oveh fo' hund'ed dollahs apiece in one night. . * * Heah dem flies headin' fo' dat 'lasses, town gwine to be de home plate fo' all de flies in de worl'. , . . 'Lasses a foot deep in de streets an' all de cellars full. Gran' drinkin' town when de street pavin' begins to fo ment a . a dat town's name ain't Ruddville, wid 'lasses so clingin' dat town's name is mud. t , t Git marchin', Lily befo' you sticks!'* "Feet, stan' by me! Lead agile, Demmy. Come a-runnin', Lily!" Leaving Ruddville and the midnight flood of LILY 167 molasses the Wildcat needed no compass. Geog raphy is all right if a boy has plenty of time but when OP Man Trouble is busting speed rec ords on the back-trail the main thing in life is not so much where-to as away-from. In spite of a nocturnal bath in the cold waters of Rudd Creek the Wildcat's mascot goat still carried an intimate veneer of sticky molasses that cramped her style of escape. After the first mile down the country road it became necessary to call a halt until the goat could be busted loose from the lumps of molasses-mixed mud which had accumulated on her feet. In the darkness the Wildcat spoke a quick message to his two-legged companion who was setting the pace a little ahead of him and Lily. "Demmy, hold de deal a minnit 'till us nanny- cures dis goat's feet loose fm di$ gumbo- land." Demmy, the small black, impatient to con tinue the flight, advised quick work, "Wilecat, don't let nuthin' like plain mud stop you. Does dem 'lasses fact'ry folks find us gone de fust thing dey does is ketch us an' install us per manent whah you heahs de jail door slam, - f 'm de inside. Kick dat goat loose f'm de mud an' come 'long. Dat no'thbound train is due i68 LILY at de crossin' mighty soon an' de crossin' is a mile up de pike. Come 'runnin'." "Us is comin', Demmy. . . . Goat, see kin you hit de double-time!" Lily, lighter by ten pounds of detached mud and molasses, did the best she could. The mascot seemed to sense the necessity for haste and no remonstrance marked her steady trot. Where the distant signal of the railroad cross ing gleamed red the trio, with Demmy in the lead, plunged from the road and waded a shal low, rain-filled borrow-pit. When they climbed the railway embankment the rails were clicking with the approach of the train and a minute later from around a curve the beam of the headlight slashed across a wide segment of the cane fields which hedged the right-of-way. "Looks like she ain't gwine stop." The Wild cat spoke his fears. "Dat train stop. Grade crossin'. OP en gineer dassn't run pas' de red light, hits a de rail an' sidetracks into a pussonal cemetery 'less he stops 'till de light shows green. I knows, I run dinin' car two yeahs on dis line." Demmy gauged his distance and began to walk away from the red signal. "Come on, LILY 169 Wilecat, us climbs on down heah. Third car f'm de engine, right behin' de baggage." Five hundred feet from the signal light the trio waited in the glare of the approaching head light. The engine crashed past them and the train slowed to a four-mile rate, but before she came to a dead stop two short signal whistles an nounced her clearance. "Boost dat goat on de platform ! Dat's a highball !" Demmy realized that now was the time for all hands to climb aboard. The Wildcat boosted the mascot up the car steps and reached down for his sawed-off com panion's arm. "Gimme yo' han', Demmy, dat'sit! Whuff! . . . Well, heah us is, Mem phis-bound, an' trail in' Lady Luck." "Git inside de car befo' de conductor thinks us is ridin' free an' unloads us. Bring dat goat." Demmy wasted no time in contemplating their luck. He opened the door of the car and plowed a channel through the pungent and heavy odors until he found a vacant seat. "Shove dat Lily undeh de seat, mebbe dey objects to ridin' goats in dis car." "Kaint see de reason. 'Longside de smell whut's heah now dat goat is dollah musk an' de cork lost." The Wildcat crammed Lily under 170 LILY the edge of the seat. He took off his hat and looked around at his sleeping fellow-passengers* "Wonder whah all dese niggers is headed fo\ sho' lots of fiel' han's travellin' since de wah. Niggers whut neveh seed a train is bustin' up an' down de line like dey'd been sent fo' by de an gel Gab'rel! How come so many folks ridin', Demmy