LIBRARY University of California^ IRVINE LADY LUCK LADY LUCK BY HUGH WILEY AUTHOR OF THE WILD CAT, ETC. GROSSET & DUNLAPj PUBLISHERS NEW YORK Mode in the United States of America f NX 1.3 COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY ALFRED A. KNOPF, Iwc. Published, November, 1921 Second Printing, November, 1921 Third Printing, November, 1322 TO MY FATHER " When you 's travellin' heavy on de misery road An' yo' back is breakin' wid de misery load, Jes' rigger dat yo' trouble 's boun' to end, Cause Lady Luck is waitin' fo' you, 'roun de bend." THE WILDCAT LADY LUCK CHAPTER I Ah wuz a fiel' ban' fo' Ah sailed de sea, Wisht Ah wuz a fiel' han' now. Dis konk'rin' hero business don' make no hit wid me- Wisht Ah wuz a fiel' ban' now. G ** S~~*\ IMME back a nickel ! How come coffee ten cents'? Gimme back 'at nickel befo' bofe ob us is on de same side ob de lunch counter." "You an' a policeman, you means. Ca'm yo'se'f. If dis wah keeps up, coffee g'wine cost fifteen cents nex' week." "How come wan*? Wah finished a yeah back. Me an' Cap'n Jack wuz de fust men in de wah. Wah's done. Ah knows. Gimme back 'at nickel." "Mebbe de wah is done, but de Democrats ain't. Git out ob heah wid dat goat, fo' you ruins mah trade." The Wildcat picked up Captain Jack's bed-roll from the floor beside the lunch counter in the Memphis station. He accumulated Lily from where the travelworn mascot goat was tethered to ii 12 LADY LUCK an adjoining stool. Together they walked from the lunch room in which he had sought refreshment after an arduous ride from San Francisco to Memphis. "Come on heah, Lily. Ol' Cap'n Jack an' de lady done went home in a takes-a-grab. Boy takes a grab at yo' money, an' if deys any lef, you gives it to a policeman fo' arrestin' him. Us rides a 'spress wagon." On the street fronting the station the Wildcat chartered a rickety express wagon hauled by a languid black mule. "Whuf !" the driver grunted. '"Sho' is de ponderestest bed-roll Ah eveh lifted." " 'At bed-roll's full of iron helmets f 'm dead Germans, fo' Cap'n Jack to 'membeh de wah by. De officehs craves to 'membeh de wah. Us 'listed boys craves to fo'git it." The driver of the express wagon looked sideways at the Wildcat. "When did de goat die?" "How come?" "Sit him on de side ob me whah de win' ain't blowin'. Wuz he de Dove ob Peace de wah'd go on fo'eveh. Whut's dem culled ribbons doin' on dat goat?" "De blue ribbon is mah mascot's quality. De red an' white ones is patriotism." "Thought mebbe dey wuz fus' an' secon' prizes fo> smellin'." LADY LUCK 13 The Wildcat handed the driver of the express wagon a cigar. "Smoke dis offsetteh," he said. Drifting along on a haze of conflicting aromas, the outfit arrived finally at the residence of Captain Jack. "Heah's de fifty cents," the Wildcat said to the express driver. "Cost me dat to git de goat smell renovated off me. Wuth six bits." "On yo' way. I'll six bits you! Quit whiffin' wid dat nose, befo' I busts yo' loose f'm it. On yo' way ! C'm on, Lily." The Wildcat spent the rest of the afternoon shuffling furniture around inside of Captain Jack's house. At four o'clock Captain Jack's wife arrived, convoying a perspiring three-hundred-pound trophy which she had been fortunate enough to capture. "Yo' is de cook, is yo"?" the Wildcat said to the newly enthroned ruler of the kitchen. The ebony Amazon looked at him. "Who is you?" "I's champion ration battler ob de world. Wait till I gits back." The Wildcat returned presently with an armful of wood. "You claims you's a cook well, woman, I lights de fiah. Den you sees kin yo'." "Kin I what?"* "Fust yo' barbecues 'at ham hangin' then. When Ah gits th'oo, half of it will be lef. Whilst de 14 LADY LUCK ham's sizzlin' you th'ows enough cawn bread to- getheh to fill de big pan. When Ah gits th'oo dey'll be half of it lef. When de ham juice begins to git sunburned you makes some ham gravy. Ah spec' ham gravy's de fondest thing Ah is of. I says 'Howdy, ham gravy !' an' af teh me an' de vittles gits acquainted, mah appetite won't need grub no mo'n a fish needs shoes." "Cut de ham." The Wildcat carved off five or six thick slices. The cook looked at him. "Is you fo'gittin' me 4 ?" "You hungry? De way you looks, yo's et all de grub whut is." "Nach'ral to be fat. Look at de elephant. How come you so skinny?" "Wah mis'ry. All I et fo' two yeahs in France wuz Guv'ment rashuns. Dey wuzn't fillin'. I et myse'f down to boy-size pants de fust yeah. Secon' yeah dey lets me run wild 'cause dey couldn't find no unifawm small enough." "Wuz yo' in de big drive?" "I'll say I wuz. Us boys drove more railroad spikes at St. Sulpice dan a colonel has cooties. Woman, how come you knows all about de -names ob de wah?" "I had a husban' uplifteh in de wah whut wrote me letters. Mebbe yo' met up wid him, name bein' Huntington Boone." LADY LUCK 15 The Wildcat's jaw sagged open as far as the roots of his lolling tongue. "Honey Tone! De up- lifteh? He's yo' man?' "You knows him*?" "Ah knows him some goin' on a thousan' francs he lifted off me wid de gallopin' ivory." "Ain't de same one. Huntington saw de light an' swerve f'm de sin road to de straight an' narrow in de Fall Revival five yeahs back de time Sis Ellers got drowned at de baptisin' an' stayed undeh till she blowed up at Vicksbu'g. Mah man went oveh as a uplifteh." " 'At's de boy. He swerved back at de sinful life. De on'y upliftin' he done wuz wid us boys' money an' coonyak." The Wildcat was thoughtful for a moment. "Whah at is he now 4 ?" he suddenly asked. "I ain't seed him since he went away. Wore out mah black alpaca mournin' dress an' spilt ice cream all oveh de otheh at a social. 'At's how come Ah's in calico." "I ain't seed him neveh since " "Since when?' "Since he sailed fo' N' O'leans on de iron boat." "He done come back! Praise de Lawd!" "Call de police, you means. Did he git back he's in de jail whah at he belongs all I seed wuz him leavin'." 16 LADY, LUCK In the face of the Wildcat's argument the Ama zon's mood changed. "When I gets th'oo wid' dat man de jail folks sho' have to pen him up in a barrel to hoi' de leavin's. He's 'bout as pop'lar wid me as smallpox. All he eveh done wuz bear down hahd on de money when I come home wid mah wages." At the moment the Wildcat did not feel con strained to explain that Honey Tone's departure from Bordeaux had been one of the Wildcat's con- trivings one in which Honey Tone had been bat tened down hi the hold of the cargo ship, together with a hundred French Colonial negro troops. "I rec'lects he lef Bo'deaux on a boat dey calls de Princess Clam, headed fo' N' O' leans. Chances is he's in de N' O'leans jail right now." The Wildcat decided that it might be well to encourage Honey Tone's mate to souse the black mood of her mourning in the whitewash of jealousy, "'Spect he might be married up again mebbe.. 'At boy gits 'gaged wheheveh 'at he goes." "Is he rampagin' roun' I makes two widows stid of one does I ketch him. Cleah outen heah !" Honey Tone's vindictive mate craved solitude in which to enjoy the misery of her ambition for revenge. The Wildcat cleared out, taking with him a substantial segment of corn bread and two hot slices of ham, "Does Honey Tone live th'oo whut de LADY LUC.K 17 female 'ception committee g'wine to git ready fo' him I gives him mah Craw de Gare an' all de woun ; stripes whut is." In the woodshed back of Captain Jack's house the mascot Lily patiently awaited her proprietor. "Blaa !" she said in greeting when the Wildcat appeared. "Whut yo' mean*? How come you always craves nutriment?" the Wildcat demanded. "Heah." He gave the goat a fragment of corn bread. "Whuf ! de oP cawn pone sho' is fillin'. I sleeps me now fo' a little while. Den I goes downtown an' says Howdy to de boys. Lily, lay off dat hat! Eat de ham grease offen it does yo' crave to, but ca'm yo' se'f when yo' gits to de hat part." The Wildcat reclined on a pile of hickory stove- wood and went to sleep. Sleeping was his long suit. At ten o'clock that night he woke up. "Sho' is late. Front do' de barber shop be locked, but de back do' ain't." The Wildcat threaded the dark streets which led to Willie Web ster's barber shop. The shave-and-haircut part of the Webster establishment served but to camouflage the darker industries which had their being in a room contiguous to the one where shaves were a nickel and haircuts fifteen cents, including musk. At the back door of the barber shop the Wildcat hesitated for a moment in an effort to recall the i8 LADY LUCK secret knock which gained admittance in the days before the war. This element of the ritual finally came to him, and on the rough panels of the door sounded three quick raps followed by two at more deliberate intervals. "I gits it 'fused up wid de time I wuz outeh guard to de Lodge ob Colored Damons. 'At knock wuz fo' an' th'ee. Fish club knock wuz two an' two. 'Membehs dat. Dat's how de animals come off de Ark, time ob de flood." The door opened an inch, and the slot of light from within was interrupted by a rolling eyeball which surmounted a pair of questioning liver-col oured lips. "Who dat?" "Wildcat Vitus Marsden." The door opened quickly, and the Wildcat edged into the company of his former associates. "Men, howdy!" "Dogged if it ain't oP Marsden! Boy, how is yo' ? Is yo' back f'm de wan?" "Heah us is, ain't I?" Willie Webster, the proprietor of the establish ment, came forward. "Don' see no arms an' no laigs missin'. Yo' neveh used yo' haid nohow, 'ceptin' to eat wid. Boy, how is yo'? Hail de Konk'rin' Hero!" "Tol'able, Willie." The Konk'rin' Hero looked about him. At a table against the wall, under the LADY LUCK 19 rays of a smoking coal oil lamp, a crap game was in progress. The Wildcat's fingers began to itch. He walked over toward the table. In the outline of one of the figures standing beside the table the Wildcat identi fied an acquaintance of his former days. "Seems like I knows de shape 'at boy's got." The Wild cat edged up to the table. The owner of the familiar silhouette faced the Wildcat. "Wilecat, how is you? Hot dam, boy is you back*?" Honey Tone Boone, the exile uplifter, was quick to conceal the inconvenient recognition in the ex tended palm of cordial insincerity. The Wildcat's mouth opened and closed in ca dence with the wild leaping of his Adam's apple. With difficulty he pacified his organs of speech, and presently the honey of hypocrisy filtered from the tip of his tongue. "Honey Tone! Honey Tone de uplifteh! Las' time I seed yo', yo' wuz in Bo'- deaux." "Las' time you seed me I wuz in trouble." "How come?" A mask of surprise covered the Wildcat's face. Honey Tone explained the method of his depar ture from Bordeaux. "You kidnapped in de gizzard ob de ol' iron boat ! Ain't it s'prisin' ! Us boys sho' missed you." 20 LADY LUCK Honey Tone relapsed into the vernacular. "I'll say 'at's all you missed. After you made de las' pass wid de gallopin' ivory you sho' lef me clean. All I had on me wuz cooties. How come you heah, Wilecat?" "Cap'-n Jack brung me. I's still workin' fo' Cap'n Jack. Afteh us landed offen de boat f'm France us rode de train clear across de country. Jes' broke loose f'm de army in time to keep f'm gittin' sent to Russia place whah dey bury you. What you doin' heah?" Honey Tone evaded a direct answer. "How's all de rest ob de boys'?" "Ain't seed 'em. Me an' Cap'n Jack came back casual." "Whah at's he now?" "Livin' heah. Memphis is de Cap'n's home town. Us jus' got in heah yes' day. F'm now on I works fo' Cap'n Jack. Ain't much to do, an' Cap'n's lady sho' foun' a good cook. I aims to eat heavy f'm now on to ketch up wid whut I misse'd in de army. Whut is. you doin', 'sides lookin' fo' easy money?" Honey Tone, the ex-uplifter, was. silent for a min ute, and then his organizing instinct welled strong. "Me? I's organizin' a Returned Heroes' Parade. Us Konk'rin' Heroes what wore de army unifawm jines in de gran' ruckus." LADY LUCK 21 "Sho! Honey Tone, whut yo' mean army uni- fawm? You was 'fested with letheh straps an' up pity talk when I knowed you fust. Now you talks plain niggah." "Sounds more homelike." Honey Tone did not feel constrained to explain the finesse which prompt ed him to abandon the vocabulary which he had derived from a year's schooling and considerable subsequent speech-making. "Aftah de parade mebbe us organizes de Colored Militarriers of America. I's been ponderin' con siderable how come some ob you ain't started dat lodge yet? Dues a dollah a month. Parades fo' baptisin's, marryin's, and funerals. Special buryin' department wheh you gits crematized or secluded in de ground as you prefers, dependin' whether you pays fo' bits a week extra or not." "Sounds half gran' mebbe folks takes up wid it. OP parade sho' sounds noble." In common with other overseas veterans, the Wildcat listened strong to the appeal made by the jingling hardware of heroism. He had visions of himself prancin' along where white folks could look at him visions which included an O. D. uniform plentifully festooned with wound stripes, coloured ribbons, service chev rons, and a few decorative military crosses. The group about the crap table thinned out. The Wildcat picked up the dice. "Does you crave high 22 LADY LUCK life, Honey Tone, read a chapteh f'm de clickers." "I might ride a couple of r'ars," the uplifter con ceded. The Wildcat produced a bulky roll. Several pairs of gleaming eyeballs about him testified to the exceptional dimensions of his capital. To the Wildcat's surprise Honey Tone hauled out a wallet in which lay a thick package of twenty- dollar bills. Hope burned strong in the Wildcat's chest, and with the flame of hope the Wildcat warmed the dice within his hand. "Shoots ten dollahs. Fade me, Honey Tone, cloes you crave action." "You's faded." "Wham! Ah lets it lay. Shoots twenty dol lahs." "Roll 'em." Honey Tone dropped a twenty- dollar bill, which landed as gently as a snowflake on the green surface of the table. "Bam! Five an' a deuce.'* Under the heat of the Wildcat's luck the uplifter's green snowflake melted into his opponent's roll. "Ah lets it lay. Shoots fo'ty. Fo'ty ways. Shower down, Honey Tone. Mah luck builds homes fo' de ignorant poor. I's got de musk smell. Bam ! Land, little Dove ob Peace. Land wid yo' bill full ob greens. An' I reads fo' tray !" The Wildcat gathered in his winnings. He laid' LADYLUCK 23 a twenty-dollar bill on the green table. "Fade me is you frantic." Honey Tone covered the bet. "Gallopers, pay de rent. Wham! Morning, rainbow. Wah just begun. Dove ob Peace got one hot end, like a hornet. Gallopers, see kin yo' uplift de Honey Tone Jack." The dice raced on their victorious way. Twenty minutes later Honey Tone Boone picked up the cubes. The capital in his leather pocket book had dwindled to a pair of weak-looking dollar bills. He reached into his pocket, and his hand came forth clutching a rubber-banded cylinder of currency whose external unit was a yellow ob ligation wherein the United States Government promised to pay the bearer fifty dollars in gold coin, providing the Democrats overlooked that much. Honey Tone voiced his challenge. "Shoots a hund'ed dollahs. De big coin keeps de pikers out." The Wildcat batted his eyes, but rallied nobly and covered Honey Tone's bet with five twenties. "Roll 'em," he said huskily. Honey Tone, rolling 'em, neglected to advertise the fact that when he reached for his new stake he had switched the dice. "Seven. Shoots two hund'ed." 24 LADY LUCK 'Talk to 'em, Honey Tone." One of the up- lifter's admirers offered verbal encouragement. "Dey does de talkin'. Shower down, Wildcat. Shoots two hund'ed." The Wildcat hesitated. "Shower down," Honey Tone repeated. "You craves action. Git in de collar. Don't stan' theh poisoned on one foot, like de iron lady in de park." The Wildcat glanced about him. He saw several pairs of heavy lips curling in the bow of derision. He counted out a handful of greenbacks. " 'At's two hund'ed," he said heavily. "Roll 'em." His neck itched. He sensed the impact of the axe. "How come I crazy?" The rolling dice halted. The class in addition announced that four and three made seven. "I mows de lettuce." Honey Tone picked up his winnings. "Shoots a hund'ed." The Wildcat audited his capital. "Sixty's all I got." "Shoots sixty." The Wildcat took a deep breath and held on to it until he read on the clicking cubes the final message of disaster. "Whuf! 'At's me." Honey Tone looked at his victim, and in the glance of triumph glowed the dull fire of accomplished revenge. LADY LUCK 25 "Dem bones says who is de Konk'rin' Hero. Dey knows," The Wildcat picked up the dice and looked them over carefully, "Dice, wuz clothes a nickel I'se nekked an* you done' it." Honey Tone reached for the &ce. "How.come*?" he objected, "Dese dice knows so much Ah thought mebbe dey's educated.." The uplif ter was glad enough to ignore the remark in his effort to get the dice under cover. He switched the subject quickly to one which would not include an examination of his paraphernalia of chance. "I counts on you, Wilecat, to be colonel ob de parade." "Me?' The Wildcat sobered under the re sponsibility. "You be de walkir/ colonel leadin' de Konk'rin' Heroes." "Whah, at does you come in?" "I's de ridin' gin'ral whut leads." "Honey Tone, does you ride, I does. You an' me is 'quivalent, only I's mo' in dis Konk'rin' Hero business. All de konk'rin' you eveh done wuz leadin' de sleep squad o' else joy in' roun' In Bo'deaux. No suh! Does you ride, I does.* 5 "De ridin' part's de hardest. I rides so you 26 LADY LUCK boys kin see me give signs whah at to march. Does you ride, de nex' boy done crave to. He say, 'Whah at's mah mule?' Fust thing yo' knows, all de Kon- k'rin' Heroes would be on mules. Dey wouldn't be no more mules lef in de world. Figgeh out what 'ud happen to de Horn Band when de mules heard de toots an' started tromplin' 'em down. Figgeh out could a band ride mules and play, bofe. Figgeh out some mo' wid yo' haid, 'stid of usin' it to eat wid so much, an' yo' might nggeh out I's right." The logic in Honey Tone's objections appealed to the Wildcat. His imagination painted a contest between the Horn Department of the brunet brass band and three or four hundred stampeding mules. "I guess yo' says sense," he admitted. "Us boys walks." For a little while he and Honey Tone discussed the details of the impending parade. "When us passes de' gran'stan'," the uplifter specified," I gives de salute. You be leadin' de platoon. When you gits opposite de gran'stan' yo' says 'Eyes right/ 'At's all you does, 'ceptin' to keep m-archin'." "Who's gwine to be in de gran'stan' ?" "In de gran'stan'? Fust dere'll be de 'ception committee, den all religious organizations, den all de lodges an' grave clubs, den all de women an* chillen whut ain't 'filiated wid nothin' but husban's an' kitchen stoves." LADY LUCK 27 Throughout the discussion the Wildcat's un mounted disappointment ached until it was suddenly quieted by a detail of the forthcoming ceremonies which he did not impart to his associate. In the Wildcat's brain was born a scheme which promised to balance the books between him and Honey Tone. "Yo' wife be sittin' hi de gran'stan', I s'pose?" Honey Tone laid himself open to the serious fall which is the common sequel of deceit. "I ain't got no wife." "Thought yo' tol' me you wuz a married man when Ah knowed you fust." The Wildcat was in dulging in a little exploration. "Did I say I wuz married I must've been crazy o' lyin'." "You is both," the Wildcat inwardly reflected. " 'At's at," he said to Honey Tone. "On'y, wid so much 'flooence, it 'pears like you'd furnish yo' own mule." "Ain't I made yo' Supreem Gran* Arrangeh? You p'vides de mule. I takes care o' rentin' de' gran'stan' at de ball park an' spreadin' de publicity. Afterwards us has a gran' rally. Mebbe I makes a speech." With the details of the program accomplished, the defeated Wildcat left the Konk'rin' Hero in the barber shop and made his way toward Captain Jack's 28 LADY LUCK home and the woodshed wherein was tethered the mascot goat. Halfway up the alley which led to the woodshed the Wildcat spoke aloud in the darkness. "Kon- k'rin' Hero! Him ridin' de mule an' us boys-ridin' ouah feet. Huh! Fs de Supreem Gran' Walkin* Arrangeh, is I? Well, tomorrow I starts arrangin'." His monologue was suddenly interrupted by an ex plosive braying which burst from the woodshed adjoining the one in which rested Lily. The Wild cat surrendered to his racing legs and galloped a panic jazz to the exit of the alley before his common- sense reacted. "Sho! Me a Konk'rin' Hero!" He chuckled softly to himself. "OP mule whut b'longs to Cap'n Jack's neighbour sho' unkonkered me." He retfaced his steps until he came to the door of Captain Jack's woodshed. He opened the door and entered. From the darkness his mascot goat greeted him-. "Blaa!" said Lily. "Ain't yo' asleep yit? Mebbe dat damn ol' mule woke you up. Git to sleep!" The Wildcat re moved his shoes and lay down on a rickety bed in a corner of the woodshed. "I'll do the arrangin', Honey Tone," he mumbled. His lower jaw sagged, and into his open mouth whined a lone mosquito. At the portals of sleep his night was again inter rupted by the mule in the adjoining shed. LADY LUCK 29 "Dat's de night-brayin'est jug-head Ah eveh seed. Wuss'n a midnight roosteh drunk wid moonlight." He was about to launch a few burning curses from a vocabulary which the mule could saggitate, when a new thought was born to him. He lay silent, star ing above him into the darkness. "Ps de Supreem Gran' Arrangeh!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Ps de double Grandes' Arrangeh whut is !" A faint bleat sounded from the darkness. "Shut up, Lily ! Fo' I gits th'oo arrangin', yo' an* me bofe rides de mule does us crave to." CHAPJER II I. THE following morning the Wildcat gorged himself on a ponderous breakfast. "Sho' is noble ham. Yo' sho' is de grandes' cook whut is. Wondeh how come oP Honey Tone neveh 'spressed himse'f about yo"?" " 'At niggah neveh wuz home enough to git 'quainted." The Wildcat looked sidewise at the cook. "Last night I meets up wid a boy in de barber shop whut knows Honey Tone pussonal. He says 'at triflin' uplifteh claims to bein' single claims he neveh had no wife." The culinary Amazon picked up a frying pan and brought it down'on the top of the range with a re sounding bang. "He claims, does he*? Wunst Ah gits mah hooks in 'at nigger's head, all he claims is funeral benefits !" The Wildcat suggested that Honey Tone was probably far, far away and established as the centre of another family circle. The cook reacted nobly. He waited until the avoirdupois cyclone had cooled off. Something in the cook's energetic rage 30 LADY LUCK 31 suggested the activities of the Wildcat's former land lady, Cuspidora Lee, from whom he had occasionally borrowed tobacco money. He determined to visit his former boarding house and renew his financial relations. "You has my sympathy bofe ways," he said to the cook. "Yo } is married up wid a no-account triflin* yellow uplifteh. Is he wid you, you is mis' able, an' is he A. W. O. L. yo' is twice 'at much. Wuz I you, when you meets up wid him I'd bleed him by han'. But don' you grieve. Neveh min'. Some day yo' meets up wid him. . . . Den yo' pays him back." 2. The Wildcat left the kitchen. He carried a bouquet of cabbage leaves to Lily, who was tethered; at the woodshed door. "Eat heavy, Lily," he com manded. "Yo' neveh got no reliable greens like dis when yo' wuz in France." He hazed Lily into the woodshed and departed on his way to visit Miss Cuspidora Lee. He found the Lee personage per spiring darkly in the clouds of heat that billowed from a red-hot cookstove. "Cuspido', I bids yo' mawin'," he said briefly. Cuspidora Lee turned upon him. "Fo 5 de Lawd sake, you scared me! If it ain't Vitus Marsden. Prodigal, come heah! Whah at is you been?" The Wildcat was engulfed in an embrace which re- 32 LADY LUCK minded him of the time he had been buried under seven tons of fermented hay. He came to the surface. "Guspido', sho' is glad to see you. Whah at's dem pussonal preserves you 'scribed 'bout in yo' letteh?" "Sit down till I feeds yo'. Is you as hungry as you always wuz I reckon you massacrees all de vittles in de house." After the Wildcat had eaten within an inch of his life he sat back from the table and took a deep breath. "Whuf! Stomach's gittin' so big mah arms won' reach pas' it. Does it keep on mebbe Ah's 'bliged to turn roun' an' eat backwa'ds. Sho' is noble rashuns. Noblest rashuns I eveh et wuz heah." He consumed an hour recounting his adventures in France for the benefit of Cuspidora Lee. At the conclusion of the recital the Wildcat was invited to make his abode in the Lee residence. "Craves to, Cuspido', but Ah kain't. Ol' Cap'n Jack needs me. Wunst I leaves ol' Cap'n, dat boy run wild an' Ah finds him out in San F'mcisco. Ah'll be draggin' 'long now. Sees yo' in de gran'- stan' at de ball park during de Konk'rin' Heroes' Parade nex' Thursday." "You sees me befo' dat. I's givin' a weegee pa'ty We'n'sday night, an' I bids yo' welcome." "How come weegee?" LADY LUCK 33 "Ain't you know weegee little boa'd whut points out is you or ain't you an' how come in de pas', present, an' future*?" "Sho ! How de boa'd know 4 ?" "Spirits. Man whut sells de boa'ds runs de spirits." "Is you tryin' to plague me?" "You come heah Wensday night an' see is I." The Wildcat returned to Captain Jack's residence. "Sho' is gran' to git home," he reflected. "Parades, weegee pa'ties fust thing I knows Ah'll be claimed by de church sociables. Sho' beats France. Stays heah an' works fo' ol' Cap'n Jack, eats me heavy, raises Lily, 'filiates at de barber shop wid de boys. Sho' beats de A. E. F. wah bizness." His daydreaming was interrupted by Captain Jack's commanding voice. "Wildcat, come here." "Cap'n, yessuh." "I'm going away for three months," Captain Jack abruptly announced. Then he added: "Keep your eye on things." "Cap'n, yessuh. Goin' 'way! . . ., When does us staht?" "Us don't start. For once in my life I hope to go some place and come back without being hounded by my Wildcat nigger." "Cap'n, yessuh. Whut beats me is how yo' aims 34 LADY LUCK to git along widout me takin' keer o' you. You neveh wuz no single thriveh." "I'll get -along without you. Go in and lock up the trunks." "Mis' Cap'n Jack gwine wid you?" "I'll say she is. Whither I goeth there shall she also go. Git those trunks fixed up." With the departure of the master of the house a cloud of melancholy settled about the Wildcat which was not dispelled until suppertime. On Wednesday night the Wildcat soused him self with bay rum and musk. About his neck, in lieu of a collar, he wrapped the spliced sleeves of a discarded silk shirt whose cerise dyes had barred it from Captain Jack's wardrobe. On his feet he wore a pair of patent leather violins whose tight interiors had been plentifully massaged with axle grease. He started out with his mascot. "C'm on heah, Lily you stahts gittin' social wid quality folks. How come dese shoes pinches all de time sho' beats me. By rights I weahs twelves. Man whut sold dese shoes said dey wuz fifteens feels like sho' take bofe to make 'at much. But when dey sees dis heah neckerchief dey won't notice de shoes." Halfway to the weegee party he removed the shoes and carried them in his hand to the portals of LADY LUCK 35 the Lee establishment. He sat down outside the door of the ouija castle and put on his shoes. He tethered Lily at the step and knocked at the door. A moment later he was being greeted by twenty friends and half as many strangers. "Befo 5 I turns down de lights," the hostess an nounced, "I wants you to meet up wid Colonel Boone, one ob de culled heroes whut made de wah safe fo' white folks. Colonel Boone, say howdy at Misteh Marsden." The Wildcat and the uplifter again stood face to face. "Honey Tone, how come Cuspido' calls you 'Colonel'?" "By rights 'at's mah rank." "By rights you is rank." The Wildcat turned to his brunette hostess. "Ah knows dis Boone man. Met up wid him in France. How come he pro- jectin' roun' heah < ?" Cuspidora was quick to sense a rift of jealousy in the social lute. "He's aimin' to claim me fo' a weddin' mate." She made haste to switch the deal. "Blow out dat light, Sis' Mosby." She reached for a second coal oil lamp and turned it down until the room was hardly light enough to distinguish the black letters on the ouija board which lay on the table. The uplifter deflected the impending em barrassment which might develop* from continued 36 LADY LUCK conversation with the Wildcat by functioning as master of ceremonies. "Rally roun'. Spirits is willin* if de flesh ain't weak. Wilecat, fondle de weegee board an' take a ra'r at seem' whut de future holds." "How come?" "Dis corner says, Yes.' Dat corner says, 'No.' De little board slides Yes or No, dependin' how de spirits answers whut yo' asks." The cross-examination of Mr. Ouija and his tal ented aggregation of spirits endured for an hour, dur ing which time a number of interesting facts con cerning various members of the assemblage became public property. The Wildcat, returning from an enjoyed battle at the refreshment corner of Cuspidora Lee's parlor, wedged his way into the group about the ouija board and laid a heavy hand thereon. The memory of Cuspidora's statement concerning her love affair with Honey Tone rankled within him. "Spirits," he said, "I axes yo' is I married?" Ouija answered, "No." "Is Honey Tone Boone married"?" The board became a battlefield. Presently the tight tendons of the uplifter's hand showed grey against his skin, but without avail, because the Wild cat's little finger lay tight against the perimeter of LADYLUCK 37 the moving planchette. Impelled by the Wildcat's little finger the implacable spirits hazed Weegee to the "Yes" corner of the board. Honey Tone's defeated ringers relaxed. "Dat's de lyin'est board I eveh see. How come yo' gits a lyin' weegee board, Mis' Lee^" "Spirits neveh lies." The hostess defended her unseen assistants. "Ain't no lyin' lef to do afteh dese upliftehs gits th'oo," the Wildcat commented. A little later, apart from the other guests, the Wildcat asked Cuspidora Lee * a direct question. "OP Honey Tone been representin' he's single 4 ?" The Wildcat's brunette hostess hesitated. "To? me he neveh seed nobody befo'," she admitted "toP me his love-eye neveh seed nobody 'ceptin' me." "All 'at boy's love-eye seed is de p'visions in yo' kitchen. Ah knows him. Acts like de yelleh nig- gah whut he is prancin' round uppity in France comes back heah callin' himself 'Colonel,' 'count he wore oilcloth leggin's an' drunk coonyak whilst us boys wuz nghtin' de battle of Bo'deaux." Cuspidora Lee listened with eager ears. "I runs him out now, the flea-bit houn'," she finally an nounced. "Ca'm yo'se'f. Don' git to brindlin'. Come out 38 LADYLUCK to de ball park tomorr 5 at de parade an* you sees him leadin' us Culled Heroes." Honey Tone Boone meanwhile had charmed a dozen of his male and female auditors with Mister Ouija's spiritual assistance. At eleven o'clock the coal oil lamps were again lighted and the guests employed themselves in the pleasurable business of consuming such refreshments as the Wildcat had overlooked. The evening ended with a general announcement from the uplifter, in which he invited the assemblage to be present on the following day at the parade of the Konk'rin' Culled Heroes. "As de Supreem Gran' Organizeh Ah bids yo' welcome," he concluded. From the darkness outside came a sardonic echo. "Blaa!" Lily the mascot had seen fit to accept the uplifter's invitation. When the party broke up, the uplifter showed an inclination to linger after the Wildcat made his departure, but presently h'e realized the failure of his ambition. "Come on heah, Honey Tone," the Wildcat in vited. "I walks a ways wid yoV Once along the dark street Honey Tone sought to review the ouija performance. "What fo' wuz you shovin' weegee an' makin' de spirits say 'yes* when they craved to say c no' ?" LADY LUCK 39 "How come shovin"? Spirits does de shovin'. Ol' weegee tells de truf. Yo' sho' is married, ain't yo"?" "I tells you once I ain't. I tells you now I ain't. Don' say no mo'." "When you talks 'at way you sho' sounds lak a Gunnel, Honey Tone." The Wildcat switched the conversation to the de tails of the parade. "Is all de 'rangements done*?" " 'Rangements done, 'ceptin' de mule I rides." "Ah'll git de mule. Whah at does I meet you*?" "Parade stahts at noon f'm Willie Webster's barbeh shop. Us marches th'oo town an' hoi's de gran' review at de ball park." A little farther down the street the two halted. "Whah at does you live, Honey Tone?" the Wild cat inquired. Honey Tone did not see fit to reveal the location of his present domicile. "Down de street a ways," he said. The pair parted. "Don' fo'git mah parade- leadin' mule fo' tomorrow," Honey Tone admon ished, "an 3 'blige me by not referrin' no mo' to no wife whut I ain't got." "Ah'll 'blige him," the Wildcat mentally con ceded. "Afteh tomorrow Ah don't need to do no wife-referrin' 'bout Honey Tone." 40 LADY LUCK The Wildcat went to sleep that night enjoying the details of a plan wherein Honey Tone's radiant future was considerably overcast by the clouds of retribution. CHAPTER III i. AT breakfast on the following morning he repeated his invitation to Captain Jack's cook. "OF Cap'n an' de Lady bofe gone away. No need you stayin' roun* here all de time. Git to de gran'stan' early an' git a front seat. Mebbe you'll meet up wid one ob mah pussonal lady fren's Cuspidora Lee, whut I boa'ded wid befo' de wah claimed me. Cuspido' said she g'wine to weah a big pink hat wid yaller feathers, 'At's how you knows her. You sees me an' mah mascot when us swings pas' de gran' stan'. Ah' 11 be follerin' de Supreem Leader. He be ridin' a mule." The Wildcat spent the next half hour festooning his mascot goat with raiment appropriate for the grand march. Lily's O. D. service coat was bright ened with a red tissue paper sash. The Wildcat sewed a turkey wing fan to the mascot's overseas cap and wired the gaudy combination securely in place between Lily's horns. "Hot dam! I says you parades." For himself he borrowed a few things which lay here and there 41 42 LADY LUCK in the trunk room of Captain Jack's house. He stowed his own paraphernalia in a gunnysack. Leading Lily, he made his way to the neighbour's woodshed wherein was stabled the overgrown night- braying mule. "Gimme dis heah mule, boy an' a saddle," he said to the brunet guardian of the neighbour's mule. "I needs him temporary." "How come?' "I craves him fo' de Culled Heroes' Parade. Some day I gives you two bits does you lend him half a day. All he does in heah is eat you po' an' wake folks up." "Whah at's de two bits'?" The exchange was effected, and presently, leading the mule and the festooned mascot, the Wildcat arrived at the ren dezvous in front of Willie Webster's establishment. He tethered the mule to a hitching post and led Lily into the barber shop. "How come de goat?" one of the assemblage questioned. "See dem stripes'? Lily went th'oo more battles dan you has sense. F'm now on, whah at I is, Lily is. Bible says, "Whah at de goat, dere is Ah also goat.' Stan* up heah, Lily." The mascot was vainly endeavouring to eat the feathers from the top of her own head. LADY LUCK 43 "Ca'm yo'se'f. Whah at's de Supreem Parade Leadeh?" Honey Tone Boone stepped out of the adjoining room. '"At you, Wildcat? Whah at's mail steed?'* "Hitched outdoors. Sho' is rarin' to go. Parade-leadinest mule Ah eveh see." Honey Tone took a look through the window at his conspicuous mount. "Sure looms up. How come de goat?" " 'At goat's mah pussonal luck." Honey Tone looked sideways at the Wildcat. "Does yo' feel like backin' yo' luck wid a jingle, mebbe I 'bliges yo' sudden. Dey's a racetrack in de back room does you crave to gallop yo' luck a couple of heats." The Wildcat accepted the challenge. The pair walked quickly into the back room. "Shoots a dollah!" He explored himself for sil ver and revised his challenge. "Shoots fifty cents. Ain't got but sixty, an' I needs a dime fo' goobers does I lose." "Boy, roll 'em." Honey Tone proffered a pair of anxious dice, but the Wildcat paid no attention to the offer. "I got mah pussonal weapons," he said. He fished a pair of dice from his left shoe. "Dey speaks 44 LADY LUCK de language. Gallopehs, git right. Wham! AH tol* you ! Ah lets it lay. Shoots a dollah." Honey Tone faded the bet. "Roll 'em." The Wildcat touched the tips of his fingers to Lily's head. "Goat, stan' by me." His swinging hand released a pair of dice whose innocent upturned faces presently revealed a four and a trey. "Seven ! Ah lets it lay. Whole hog o' de squeal." "Roll 'em!" "Bam. Six an' five. Ah done climbed de luck tree. Honey Tone, shake me. out. Shoots fo' dol- lahs. Lily, stan' by me!" "Blaa!" remarked Lily. "Boy, roll 'em." Honey Tone began to itch for possession of the dice. "Asleep in de snowdrift. When Lily says c blaa' Ah lets 'em ride." "An' seven ! Ah lets it lay." "Shoot, you fool, nobody neveh made five passes." "Nobody but me." The Wildcat opened his du&y palm and a natural seven leaped to the gaze of a waiting world. Honey Tone's eyes bulged with surprise. The Wildcat accumulated his winnings. From the crumpled handful of bills he selected a dollar bill, which he twisted into a tempting little salad bouquet. "Lily, eat this fo' luck. Ah reaps de LADY LUCK 45 greens to nutrify mah mascot ! Shoots ten dollahs !" Lily munched delicately on the dollar bill while the Wildcat continued with the harvest. The deeper Honey Tone sank into the bogs of chance, the more he resented the introduction of the Wild cat's trained dice. Once, in, the run of hard luck, he showed, signs of weakening, but the Wildcat was quick to rally him with the adroit tongue of flattery. "One thing I'll say fo' Honey Tone win or lose, de dust!" Thereafter, for a space of minutes the massacre proceeded with systematic fury. It ended only when the policeman unlimbered a wicked sap and LADY LUCK 53 forcibly dragged the battling brunettes from their crumpled victim. "Git to hell away from that nigger," the officer yelled at the two women. With the assistance of a hearty boost from the policeman, the Supreme Or ganizer struggled to his feet. "Lemme go lemme go!" he gasped. Wham! The two- foot swagger stick in the hand of the police officer found its target. "Shut up, you mule-stealin' baboon. Come on here! ;You git fifty years in jail if we don't lynch you!" Honey Tone Boone, the uplifter, trailed along with the policeman. The Wildcat, with his mascot goat close beside him in the shadows of the entrance to the ball park, witnessed the consummation of his plans. "Ah'll say I's de Supreem Gran' Arrangeh!" he exulted. "Grandes' 'rangeh whut is! Eve'ything sho' is 'ranged noble." He tied a leading-string around the mascot's neck. "Come on heah, Lily. Us fades befo' Honey Tone busts loose f'm de jail. Us rides de Fliah to Chicago wid ol' Backslid. He's mah fren'. Le's go!" CHAPTER IV "T% Sf EMPHIS, let me miss you! Feet, see I ^/ 1 kin you trod de good-bye jazz ! Lily, JL JL. le's go ! Git in step ! C'm on heah befo' Ah jerks yo' head loose f'm yo' horns." Lily lagged. No guilty conscience impelled the mascot goat. In addition to this, lacking mental momentum, her progress was considerably impeded by a parade uniform consisting of an O. D. army shirt which dangled loosely about her forelegs. Half a block down the street Lily's parade rai ment slipped. Her hobbles tripped her. The gal loping Wildcat felt an added drag on the leading string. He glanced backward in his flight. "Goat, how come you lose the cadence? Dog gone you, see kin you skid till you gits in step." Lily bought the next fifty yards with an expendi ture of some epidermis and two ounces of goat hair. She regained her feet, staggering under a ponder ous ambition for revenge. Forty feet from the Cal- houn Street curb she took careful aim at the Wild cat and stepped on the accelerator. The Wildcat coasted into Calhoun Street with his parade-leading Prince Albert flapping straight out behind him. He 54 LADYLUCK 55 skidded over the curb in a pose which cost his army pants half of their seating capacity. Inertia claimed him. He rolled his head slowly over his shoulder and gazed in bewilderment upon his prancing Nemesis. "Lily, at ease!" The go'at ambled up beside him. "At res' !" The Wildcat grabbed for the mascot's leading string. "You an' me declares peace. Ah done wrong when Ah drug you, but now see kin you ram ble. Ah craves to reach de Chicago Fliah whah at de ol' Backslid Baptis' is porter, so us kin leave town without leadin' no mob." "Blaa!" Lily answered in forgiveness. About the mascot's chest the Wildcat adjusted the O. D. shirt with its three service stripes. He tilted the little overseas cap which Lily wore to a rakish angle between the mascot's horns. With Lily clicking along at the Wildcat's heels, the pair entered the portals of the Grand Central Station. The Wildcat accosted a Red Cap of his own col our. "Whah at kin I find de Backslid Baptist whut takes care o' de white gen'men on de Chicago Fliah 'at leaves at 2 40?" "I knows 'at boy dey calls Backslid, but dey ain't no Fliah leavin' at 2:40. 'At boy runs Pullman on de Panama Limited, leavin' heah at 10:10 to- 56 LADY LUCK night. Ol' Backslid neveh shows up till half-past nine to take his cah out." Confronted by seven intervening hours of life in Memphis, which might include the release of Honey |Tone Boone, whose temporary confinement in the jail had just been accomplished, the Wildcat's am bition flopped. His sole desire for the moment was for a high-grade segment of camouflage or the sanc tuary of a close-fitting black cave. "Whah at kin me an' Lily hide out till mah fren' Backslid shows up?" The Red Cap looked at him. "What you done outrun a bullet f'm some white man's gun, o' mebbe busted jail?" The Wildcat's skin shrank a size or two at the mention of jail. "I ain't done nuthin'. Fo'git dem jail words. All I got is business in Chicago, an' I aims to ride wid de Baptist." The Red Cap came to realize that the Wildcat sought to avoid publicity. "I knows a place whah you kin crawl undah a five-dollah bill an' hide." "Whah at's de place?" "Whah at's de five-dollah bill?" The Wildcat produced the greenback. The Red Cap took it. "Cm on heah wid me." He led the Wildcat and Lily to the rooms where Red Caps shifted from their civilian raiment to the uniform of their calling. LADYLUCK 57 "Nobody but us boys neveh comes heah. Ah'll pass de word to de Backslid Baptis' to hunt you up when he 'rives f'm uptown tonight." Until nine o'clock that night the Wildcat and Lily lay under cover. Shortly after nine o'clock the Backslid Baptist arrived at the station to board his Pullman, which would be cut into the Panama Limited. He encountered the Wildcat in the latter's retreat. "How come*? When Ah seed you dis aftehnoon you an' Lily wuz in de parade-leadin' business, fol- lowin' Honey Tone Boone on de mule." "Us changed since den, Backslid. OP Honey Tone done unconsecrate hisself f'm de parade-leadin' mule." "Whah at is he now?" "Safe in jail, whah at Cuspido' Lee an' de otheh wild woman kain't claim de remains. Whut time does us leave?" "How come de 'us'?" "I craves to furlough mahself loose f'm Memphis fo' a while. Does ol' Honey Tone git free mcbbe he uprises agin' me." "Cm on. ... Us is due out at 10:10." Before the Backslid Baptist was into his uniform a boy brought an order slip to him. He read it and handed it to the Wildcat. The Wildcat looked at the paper. 58 LADY LUCK "You knows Ah kain't read, Backslid. What 'at paper say?" "Ah switches to a N'O'leans cah de Mazeppa. Otheh boy's sick." "How come he sick?" "Some boys gits sick so as to miss Ol' Man Trouble. Might have made a cleanin' wid de bones. Might crave to meet up wid some fren's in Memphis. Kain't say how come. Us finishes de boy's run. Come on !" The Backslid Baptist led the way to the platform in the long train shed. "Don't know kin I dead head 'at goat." "Sho' kin, Baptist. 'At mascot don't take up no room. 'At goat traveled f'm N'Yawk to San F'm- cisco in de vegetable bin on a dinin' cah. Lily ain't no rampager." When the Panama Limited roared into the train shed Lily cringed against the Wildcat's legs. "Stan' up theh! How come you scared at de ol' train?" Followed by the Wildcat and Lily, the Backslid Baptist sought his car. "Whah at's de Mazeppa?" he asked the first porter whom he encountered. "Hello, Backslid. Is you runnin' Mazeppa?" "Aims to." "Menagerie cah." "How come?" LADYLUCK 59 "Dogdest cahload ob folks Ah evah see. Wait till mawnin' an' you sees yo' passengers. 'At's de ol' battleship, five cahs back." The Wildcat and Lily, in the wake of the Back slid Baptist, presently boarded the Mazeppa. Once inside the car, the porter sniffed heavily. "Gin trip. Thank de Lawd ain't no kids. Don't smell no bananas. Lis'sen. Heah dat boy snore?" "Snores lak he's chokin' to death." "Ain't chokin'. 'At's a fat boy wid de alcohol snorts." The Backslid Baptist sniffed again. "Sho' is." "Is what?" "Chorus girl lady, o' mebbe one ob dem movin' picture ladies." "Ah'll say you does." "Does what?" "Sees an' heahs wid yo' nose. Did anybody bust you in de beak dey'd knock you deaf an' blind." "Wilecat, Ah run Pullman ten yeahs boy sho* gits deprived ob a lot ob ignorance in dat time. Sho' gits so he knows de folks on his cah quick. Gits to be a reg'lah mind readeh." The Wildcat looked at the Backslid Baptist. "Whut dat fat boy wid de alcohol snorts thinkin' about?" The mind-reading porter looked at the Wildcat. A slow smile cut a red gash in his face. 60 LADY, LUCK "Same as you de half bottle whut's left." "Ah'll say you's a mind reader. Read an' sec does de half bottle need a guardeen." "Fo'get .dat guardeen, business. Tomorrow mawin' he gives it to you does you crave it. 'At boy wouldn't look cross-eyed at you in. town, but when you weahs de unifawm mos' likely does you crave a dram o' his liquor he be proud to give it to you. When him an' de headache wakes up tomorrow " Zing! From above the Wildcat's head an elec tric bell rang with the suddenness of a striking rattle snake. "Whut dat?" ""Ca'm yo'sef. Some passengeh ringin' fo' de porteh. Store dat goat in heah befo' de oP train conductor comes th'oo." The Backslid Baptist opened the door of the linen closet. Lily the mascot was ushered into the dark cave beneath the shelves. "Lily, at res' ! See kin you sleep whilst Ah learns de porter business." The Wildcat began to absorb the free ice-water. Zing! The annunciator rang again with an im patient note. "Put dis' white coat on you whilst I sees who wants whut." The Backslid Baptist handed the Wildcat a white linen coat. The Wildcat removed his long parade-leading Prince Albert with the red plush sash LADYLUCK 61 and the yellow epaulets and donned the white jacket. The Backslid Baptist returned from the far end of the car. "Fat boy in Loweh 7 wid de alco hol snorts craves ice-wateh. Fill a papeh cup an' carry it back to him." The Wildcat filled a paper cup with ice-water and started down the aisle of the car. He re turned presently. "Kain't find whah at is 'at boy." "You looks till you sees '7' on de curtains. 'At's whah he is." The Wildcat essayed a second attempt with his life-saving ice-water. He had proceeded half the length of the car when, above the muffled rattles and creaks of its fabric, there lifted a wild shriek ing laughter. The paper cup in the Wildcat's clutching hand was crushed flat. From the cup there gushed a geyser of ice-water straight for the parted curtains of Lower 7. CHAPTER V THE wild laughter from somewhere across the aisle continued, but now it was punctu ated by three voices. "Pr Gawd's sake, dearie, be quiet!" "Spluff! What th' hell " "Lady Luck, whah at is you*?" The Wildcat galloped back along the swaying aisle to the protection of the Backslid Baptist. The high-pitched laughter pursued him. "Pull de stoppin' string, Baptis'! Ah craves to git off dis train." "Ca'm yo'se'f . Whut ails you V ' "Heah dat laffin"? Heah dat crazy" Zing! Zing! ZING! "Doggone 'at Loweh 7. Did you wateh dat boy?" The Wildcat looked at the crushed cup in his hand. "Ah'll say so. Missed 'at boy's neck, but de o? ice-wateh sho' baptized him." "See whut he wants again." "You betteh see, Baptis'. I's just learnin'." "Dearie, be quiet before I wring your neck!" A 62 LADY LUCK 63 strident feminine voice addressed the author of the laughter. "Shut up! There, there, dearie. . . a Oh, you feen, leggo! My gawd, he bit me!" "Purty purty burd. Purty purty burd." "You feen!" "Quawk!" Down the length of the car, from between the berth curtains there began to appear an assortment of human heads. Above the scene there sounded the flutter of beat ing wings. The Backslid Baptist dived into the centre of the Pullman. "What is it, porter?" "Jes 5 gittin' into Carbondale." The porter's calm voice dispelled the terrors of the night. "Leggo! Leggo! Doggone you. Backslid! Comeheah!" A furore of acrobatic groaning marked a scene wherein the Wildcat was doing the best he could to pry himself loose from something that clung to various parts of his anatomy with a beak and eight sharp claws. "Come heah! Light de light. Some varmint's got me." The Backslid Baptist retraced his steps. "Ain't no varmint. One ob dem parrot birds." The Backslid Baptist made a grab for the parrot, 64 LADY LUCK and from the bird's throat into the night again there lifted the wild laughter. The porter opened the door of the linen closet wherein Lily the mascot goat was quietly eating her third pillow case. He cast the parrot from him into the darkness of the linen closet. "Wilecat, tell de lady in Lo' 10 Ah'll take keer de parrot till mawinV The parrot landed on Lily's neck. From behind the slammed door came a muffled "Blaa !" followed by the subdued noises of a large number-nine-sized ruckus. Zing! Zing! ZING! "I's coming. I's coming." The Backslid Bap tist filled two cups of ice-water and started to ward Lower 7 with them. "Heah you is. ... Yessuh. No suh. Yessuh, Ah'll git you some mo'." "Here's a half bottle of that blasted stuff. Take it away where I can't smell it. That ice-water sure is good. Were you ever zippo on gin?" "No suh. Ah'll git you some mo' ice-water." The Backslid Baptist, conveying half a bottle of gin, neglected to state that he had never been able to accumulate enough gin at one time to get himself zippo. He encountered the Wildcat in the smoking room. He handed the Wildcat the half bottle of gin. "Ah'll say I's a mind reader," LADY LUCK 65 "See whut de good Lawd done sent !" "Afteh de storm comes de quiet waters." "Comes de gin, you means. OP fat boy drink de watehs. Us drinks de gin. Gin, how is you?" The Wildcat soothed himself with three strenuous gulps. "Whuf ! Liquor, how de do!" The Backslid Baptist departed with the third cargo of ice-water for the gentleman in Lower 7. He returned after a little while. Dangling from his fingers and carried in his arms were a dozen pairs of shoes. He threw the shoes down on the end seat in the smoking room. "Start to work on de shoes, Wilecat,, Don' do nothin 1 to de new shoes much an' hit de ol* ones light. De middle-grade shoes gits a good shinin'. Folks whut weahs middle-grade shoes is ol'-time travellers an' gin' ally comes up strong wid de income tax fo' us boys." The bell in .the passageway sounded its summons, "Doggone ! See who dat is." The apprenticed Wildcat read the indicator. "Ain't no numbeh. De little hand turned on de letters." "Whut de letters say*?" "Backslid, you knows I kain't read." The Backslid Baptist set the nearly empty bottle of gin on the washstand and walked into the passage way. 66 LADY LUCK " 'Partment B," he announced upon his return. "Dey's two 'partments, A and B, and a drawin' room. You knows 'B' when you sees it. Knock at de do' an' ask whut is it." The Wildcat departed on his mission. At the door of Compartment B he encountered a bald- headed gentleman clad in violent pink pajamas. The gentleman's face was festooned with a long, blond mustache. He thrust a coat, a vest, and a pair of trousers through the door at the Wildcat. "Have these pressed," he ordered. "Here's a brace of shillings for you. Fee the tailor chap." "Cap'n, yessuh." The Wildcat returned to the smoking room. "Boy in de 'partment room whut gobbles lak a turkey says, 'Press de clo'es, boy, an' heah's a dollah.' Dollah, how is you? Sho' is easy money." "English boy. Dey's de clo'es-pressin'est folks in de world, 'ceptin' actors." "Whah at does I git dese fixed up*?" "No place. Hang de coat up. Sprinkle de pants wid wateh an' lay 'em undeh a pile ob sheets in de linen closet. By mornin' dey's pressed. You charges anotheh dollah." "Sho' is easy money." The Wildcat hung the Britisher's coat and vest in the smoking room. He walked into the passageway and opened the door of the linen closet A four-legged cyclone burst from LADY LUCK 67 the dark depths of the linen closet. Riding the cyclone was a bedraggled parrot. The parrot showed the wear and tear of travel. The Wildcat called loudly at the cyclone. "Lily, halt! 'Tenshun! Whah at's de mil'tary bearin' you got in France 1 ? Come heah!" The mascot walked to the Wildcat's side. From Lily's cringing back the Wildcat lifted the battle- scarred parrot. The Wildcat boosted Lily back into the solitude of the linen closet. "Lily, 'tenshun. At ease! At res' ! " The goat executed the commands with the military precision which had come from long months of train ing in the A. E. F. " 'Tenshun ! At ease. One mo' false move an* I th'ows you oveh-boa'd off de train." The Wildcat retrieved a piece of string and turned his attention to the parrot. "You green debbil. Lay off 'at goat. Ah ties you on de top shelf. One mo' move an' us has fricasseed green chicken afteh de dinin' cah man gits you." " 'Tenshun !" mocked the parrot. "At ease !" Lily, prone in the depths of the linen closet, obeyed the commands. The Wildcat tied the string around the parrot's leg. "Dere, dat holds you, an quit mockin' me befo* I knocks yo' beak down yo' throat." 68 LADY LUCK "At rest!" the parrot gurgled. The Wildcat closed the door of the linen closet. The parrot lost no time in biting the string loose from about her leg, after which she rejoined her four- legged companion. "'Tenshun!" she squawked. "At res'! 'Ten- shun! At res'!" Thereafter until dawn, obeying the perfect coun terfeit of her master's voice, Lily the mascot goat came to attention and subsided at rest with the per sistent rhythm of a man on a hand-car. CHAPTER VI THE Wildcat returned to his shoe-shining. "When does us boys sleep, Backslid?" "When de chance comes," the Backslid Baptist returned. "You sleeps between stations an' 'twixt jobs of work. Gin'ally when de bell rings at night you pay no 'tenshun to it. Folks is finicky. Dey gits along just de same does you answer de bell or don't you. Hurry up wid de shoes. When you gits 'em done come on up th'ee cahs ahead. Dey's some res' less ivory on dat cah, an' mebbe us collects some money whut's lonesome to change managers." The Backslid Baptist departed for the third car ahead, where in the smoking room the galloping ivory was clicking strong on the linoleum. The Wildcat finished his work on the shoes of the passengers on the Mazeppa. He carried the shoes forward with him until he came upon the crap game. "Heah's de shoes, Backslid," he said. "Men, howdy." "Whut fo' you bring dem shoes all de way up heah?" "Ah kain't read yo' numbehs whah at to distribute 'em." 69 70 LADY LUCK "Lay 'em down. Ah'll take 'em back afteh while. Gimme dem bones. Shoots five dollahs." The Backslid Baptist launched himself into an energetic arm-swinging struggle, wherein presently he lost after his third pass. "Take a ra'r, Wilecat. See is you still 'fested wid luck like you wuz in de A. E. F." The Wildcat was a stranger to everybody present except the Backslid Baptist. "Who dat boy?" one of the group of porters asked. "Learnin' boy f'm Memphis. Ah knows him." With this endorsement the Wildcat was plunged in to the game. "Gimme dem bones. Hind laigs at res'.'" The Wildcat subsided to the floor. "Fingehs, lemme see kin you play de pickpocket jazz. Shoots five dollahs. Wham! Ah reads a feeble five. Five stay alive. Five Ah craves. Lady Luck, boon me. P'odigal five, come home whah de fat calf waits. Bam! Th'ee an' a deuce. Ah lets it lay. Shoots ten dollahs. Shower down ten dollahs an' see de train robbeh perform. Shower down, brothers. Bam! Seven! 'At's twins, but man luck comes triple. Shoots de twenty. Shoots twenty dollahs. Heah de bloodhoun' bay. An' Ah reads ten miles. Chicago bound ! Pay day, whah at is you ? Lady Luck, don' git feeble. Angil leanin' on a cloud. LADYLUCK 71 De cloud busts ! Angil, heah you is readin' de five an' five. Five twins, how is you? Shoots fo'ty dollahs." One of the group spoke to the Backslid. "Mebbe 'at boy's learnin' de porter business, but he sho' got old in de bone school a long time back." The Backslid Baptist grunted his reply. The Wildcat raked down all of his winnings except a five-dollar bill. "Shoots five dollahs. Shower down. Windy talk don't shake no possums loose. Come an' git me on de top limb. Shoots five dollahs. Dynamite dice, bust de ol' safe do'. Ah craves action. Shoots ten dollahs. Fifty dollahs." "How much you got*?" A cinnamon-coloured Croesus in the group spoke softly into the clamour. The Wildcat turned to him. "Shoots a hund'ed does you crave speed. Shoots five hund'ed dollahs." The cinnamon-faced porter produced a roll of bills and stripped a handful of greenbacks therefrom. " 'At's five hund'ed dollahs. Roll 'em." "Gallopers, git right." The Wildcat gave the dice a Turkish bath, a manicure, and a careful massaging between the perspiring palms of his hands. He cast a handful of prepared ivory from him. The dice were festooned with equal parts of luck 72 LADY LUCK and technical skill, but their precise trajectory was interrupted by a string of high joints and low centres in the track over which rambled the Panama Limited. "An* I reads ace and deuce." The cinnamon-coloured boy picked up the money on the floor. " 'At'll learn you." The Wildcat was silent. The Backslid Baptist, sharing the shadow of his associate's sudden cloud of black luck, spoke slowly to him. "C'm on heah, Wilecat. Us is nex' do' to bein' busted." In the wake of the Backslid Baptist the Wildcat ambled back through the swaying cars to the Mazeppa. He carried on his bowed shoulders a load of misery big enough to bust a bottle of dy namite gin. The Backslid- Baptist stretched himself full length on the long leather seat of the smoking room. "Baptist, how come it I don' know. De baby gallopehs wuz spinnin' fo' seven." "Rough track an' de rocky road swerved 'em. Git to sleep. Us is due at Champaign at 8 : 10. Money come, money go. Whuteveh sleep you gits is that much to de good." The Wildcat flopped down on the floor of the smoking room, but sleep would not come to him. At half past seven the Backslid Baptist on the LADY LUCK 73 leather seat began mumbling to himself, . A little later he awakened. "Wilecat, whut dat noise?" "Ain't heard no noise." All the Wildcat had heard was the accents of his bank-roll bidding him a last farewell. "'At thumpin' noise." The Backslid Baptist's ears, keenly attuned to the turmoil of travel, dis tinguished in the sounds about him some unfamiliar puncture of the normal din. "Sounded lak beatin' a board wid a stick." "Kain't heah nothin'." The Backslid Baptist yawned. "Some ob dem early risers f'm de tall sticks sure to be up by now. When Ah starts makin' up de berths you kin sweep out de cah an' 'cumulate de sheets an' pillow cases. Stick 'em in de canvas bag in de linen closet an' take back de boy's clo'es he gin you to press." The Wildcat traversed the length of the aisle back of a swinging broom. 'On the return trip he en countered the Backslid Baptist busily engaged in making up Lower i. "Backslid, who dem two boys half way down de cah wid de red hats'?" "You means de boys wid de red fezants? Dem's a couple ob Potent Nobles ob de Mysterious Mecca. All de Mysterious Mecca boys in de world is havin* a gran' ruckus next month on de Pacific Coast." 74 LADY LUCK "How come dey start so early*?" "Dey falls by de wayside heah an' dere, an' dey starts early so as to git picked up by some worthy Brother wid steady laigs. 'At fat boy wid de red fezant is de one whut had de gin hiccoughs." "Kain't see did he." "Gin' ally dey carries it noble. Dere's de little lady whut owns de parrot bird." The owner of the parrot bird was a left-over sou- brette who had bust in Havana with a road produc tion of The Sillies of 1492. The little lady had completed her spring drinking and was now en route to a big-time meal-ticket scheduled to start from Chicago. She saw the Wildcat. "Porter, where is little Polly 6 ?" "Yessum. I secluded 'at green chicken in de linen closet. Does you crave him now?" "Yes. I want to have her with me for breakfast the poor lonesome cferling." "Accordin' to de words 'at varmint used last night, he's too tough to make much of a brekfus'." The Wildcat went to the end of the car and opened the linen closet wherein he had cached the parrot. With the opening of the door the mystery of the thumping noise which he and the Backslid Baptist had heard was explained. In a low falsetto the LADYLUCK 75 parrot was repeating the two military commands which she had learned. "'Tenshun! At res' ! Tenshun! At res' !" Lily, the mascot goat, was contributing the last fragment of muscular energy to the business of obey ing orders. In response to the parrot's commands the goat languidly flopped at rest on the floor of the linen closet and came to her feet at attention. "Lawd Gawd, Lily ! At res' an' stay 'at way !" Gratitude rang in the answering "Blaa" of Lily the goat. The Wildcat reached for the parrot. "You green debbil! Whut you mean, exercisin' mah mascot all night?" "Quawk!" The parrot made a vicious swing at the Wildcat's reaching hand. "Leggo, you debbil !" The green parrot, fuming in a rage compared to which nitric acid was a cream puff, was restored to its Spring-drinking owner. "Lady, heah's de green demon." "Pretty Polly. What made her little feathers all mussed up*?" The Wildcat returned to his exhausted mascot. " 'At green chicken's lucky does he git by widout gittin' his health an' stren'th mussed up befo' dis trip ends. At res', Lily, till I brings you some nutriment. Doggone ol' bird must have near wore 76 LADY LUCK you out. 'At's He way wid dem mil'tary comman3s a Res' yo'se'f, Lily, till Ah brings yo' brekfust." "Blaa!" answered Lily, weakly. The Wildcat detected a tone of hypocrisy, some thing of false gratitude in the mascot's reply. He returned from the dining car carrying two heads of lettuce for the mascot. He placed the lettuce under the nose of the recumbent goat, but Lily refused to eat. "Fust time Ah eveh seed you slow up when de mess call blowed. How come?" An instant later his roving eye discovered the "how come" of Lily's loss of appetite. In a dark corner of the linen closet he saw a dozen fragments of white cloth. He hauled them out, and the light revealed the hems of a covey of sheets and a half dozen pillow cases. Then the web of a home-spun disaster met his eye. From the lower shelf of the linen closet dangled the shredded legs of the trousers which the occupant of Compartment B had given him to be pressed. "Goat, doggone you, come to 'tenshun! No wondeh you kain't eat lettuce, wid yo' insides crammed wid a ton ob linen an' half a pair ob pants fo' dessert. Me sympathizin' wid you, an* you an* de green chicken banquetin' all night on 'spensive raiment! 'Ceptin' foh havin' to scrub de flo', I'd barbecue de blood outen yo' veins heah an' now." LADY LUCK 77 The sudden necessity of hiding the evidence con fronted the Wildcat. "By rights I ought to ram de rest ob de pants down yo' neck." The Wildcat picked up the ragged and frazzled trousers. A moment later he opened the door of the car platform and cast the remnants of Lily's banquet into the fleeting right-of-way. " 'Spect some boy find dese an' say, 'Whah at's 'de man whut de train cut de laigs off of 1 ?' 'At's his trouble. Me Ah's Chicago bound wid a cahload ob trouble ob mah own. Main thing to do is to git off de train widout lettin' 'at boy in 'partment B know we's landed." He discussed the disaster of the trousers with the Backslid Baptist. " 'At's de on'y way," the porter conceded. "When us gits in we fo'gits 'bout de boy widout de pants. Dey wuz his pants, Wilecat. Havin' no pants is his grief. He kin borrow some overalls f'm de cah cleaners, o' else he kin play he's a Injun an' roam nekked till de police gits him. Does us meet up wid de oP Pullman 'spector Ah says 'No suh, Ah dunno how come.' 'At's 'at." "Sho' don't crave words wid no 'spector," the Wildcat returned. "Dis porter business de best job in de world. Ridin' all de time, seein' de country eatin' heavy, free ice wateh, gran' raiment, talk- in' to folks No suh! Main thing Ah craves is 78 LADY LUCK to git hired by de Pullman boss. 'Spect Ah makes it all right, Baptis"?" "You makes it easy. You's clone learned de business dis mawnin', ain't you? Well, I gits you five recommendin' letters f'm a boy whut writes 'em on Prairie Avenue, an' you gits hired. "Fust letter says, 'Ah knowed Wilecat goin' on ten yeahs, an' he don't drink.' Nex' letter say, 'Wilecat jined de church when he wuz four yeahs old an' bin a soldier ob de Lawd eveh since.' Nex' letter say, 'Boy got to take keer ob his wife, mother an' father, an' six small chillen.' Nex' letter say, 'Wilecat sho' beats de worl' fo' readin', writin', an' 'rithmetic.' ' "Backslid, you knows Ah kain't read." " 'At don't make no difference. Letter says so, don't it"? Last letter says you's honest, industrious, an reli'ble." "How come you so friendly wid dat Democrat- letter-writin' boy*?" "How come 'Democrat' ?" "F'm whut you says he's champion liar ob de world. Sounds Democrat to me. Don' make no difference, though just so's I gits de job." ZING! The owner of the red fez and the night- blooming hiccoughs craved another pillow and a table. The Wildcat delivered the table and fixed it into place. He returned to the linen closet to retrieve a pillow case therefrom. When the door opened, Lily the mascot goat, tired of the dark con fines of her retreat, burst forth and galloped down the aisle of the car. The Wildcat abandoned his pillow case industry and spent the next two minutes in rounding up his protege. "You ramblin' wreck, come back heah befo' Ah makes a rug out ob yo' skin." He returned Lily to her jail and proceeded to deliver the second pillow to the owner of the alcohol snorts. In common with the rest of the occupants of the car, that individual voiced his curiosity con cerning the animated mascot. "Son, who owns the goat?" "Cap'n, suh, Ah owns him now, but some slaugh ter house man gwine to git him 'less he ca'ms down." "What'll you take for him?" 79 8o LADY LUCK The Wildcat suddenly remembered his financial status. Hard money at the moment made a strong appeal. "Cap'n, suh, you means you craves to buy 'at goat?" In the mind of the Potent Noble of the Mysterious Mecca had bloomed a Great Idea, wherein the gallop ing Lily would provide entertainment in carload lots for the Convention-bound brethren of the Conclave. "Some days Ah'd sell 'at goat fo' a thin dime. Otheh days Ah'd give a boy a hund'ed dollahs for killin' him." "What'll you take for him cash down, f. o. b. Lower 7, car Mazeppa*?" The Wildcat studied for a moment, and then long months of association clinched the tie which Lady Luck had woven between him and the prodigal Lily. "Cap'n, suh, Ah spec' Ah wouldn't sell 'at goat fo' mo'n a million dollahs. Me an' Lily fit so many battles togetheh in France and on boa'd de ol' iron boat comin' home 'at Ah kain't see no money big enough to T suage mah grief is we divo'ced. Bible says, 'Whither the goat goes, me too.' 'Spec Ah kain't sell him." The companion Noble across the table from the hiccoughing gentleman offered a suggestion. "Round 'em both up for the trip. The Pullman gang'll fix it for us." LADYLUCK 81 "Good scheme, Jim. The old bean isn't any too clear this morning or I'd thought of that myself." The owner .of the red f ezant turned to the Wildcat. "What's your name, son 1 ?" "Dey named me Marsden, suh Vitus Marsden but folks calls me Wilecat." "If I can't buy the goat, I guess we'll have to negotiate the custody of your feline corpus from the Pullman organization for the duration of the Big Show." '"Yessuh." The Wildcat did not understand the big words, but whenever he did not understand it was his principle to smile and agree to anything that white gentlemen said. "Yessuh. Ain't it de truf ?" He returned to the smoking compartment, where the Backslid Baptist was auditing his tips. The Backslid Baptist was busy at the moment excavating a busted cork out of the neck of a queer looking square bottle. "Baptis', whut you got?" "Smells lak equalizer. Wait till Ah gits dis cork out, an' us sees." "Whut dat sign say on de bottle?" The Backslid Baptist inspected the label affixed to the flat side of the bottle. "Ol' sign reads 'Acrobatic Spirits of Pneumonia.' Bam! Un- konkered 'de ol' cork. Smell dat. 'At learns you 82 .LADY LUCK not to believe in signs. When yo j eyes sees one thing an' yo' nose sees another you betteh believe yo' nose." He took a long drag at the bottle and passed it over to the Wildcat. "Whuf! OF lady in Lower 6 felt poo'ly dis mawnin', but she 'sorbed th'ee drams f'm dis heah bottle, an' so far she's et twelve dollahs' wuth ob grub up ahaid in de dinin' cah." The Wildcat swung on to the "Acrobatic Spirits of Pneumonia," lingering at the spout for several disappointing seconds after the contents of the bottle had gurgled down his neck. "Whuf ! Ah missed de pneumonia, Backslid, but Ah sho' feels acrobatic. How come de lady lose de bottle?" "She done got careless when de spirits come. You better th'o 'at glassware away now an' git ready fo' tellin' de boss how you craves a porter's job." Half an hour later, leading his mascot goat and closely convoyed by the Backslid Baptist, the Wild cat walked down the platform in the dark trainshed of the station in Chicago. Throughout the long ride down .Prairie Avenue to the habitation of the forger from whom the recommending letters were to be obtained the Wildcat's woolly bean spun with the momentum which he had drained from the bottle abandoned by the careless lady in Lower 6. An hour later, armed with five ironclad letters, LADYLUCK 83 he returned along the route, arriving finally at the portals of the office building on West Adams Street wherein Pullman porters are created from select brunet humanity. Presently, across a wide desk he confronted Authority. A kindly gentleman questioned him, and to the questions he replied with an assortment of impromptu lies whose range and ingenuity busted every previous record for careless language. Ten minutes later he was a hired man. "Cm on heah. 'At's all." The Backslid Baptist at his elbow sensed the successful conclusion of the interview. "You mean Ah's a porter*?" the bewildered Wild cat asked when the pair had gained the street level. "Ah'll say you is." "An 5 all de tips I gits is mine to keep*?" "Dey is previdin' you gits outen yo' trance an' takes yo' cah on de 4:10." "Hot dam, Lily ! Cm on heah. Us weahs a blue coat all de time an' don't do nuthin' but spend de money whut de white folks showers down." "You betteh make arrangements at some livery stable to p'vide board an' room fo' Lily whilst you is A. W. O. L." "How come? Whah at I goes de goat goes." "Not on de Pullman run. Ah dead-heads you once, an' de goat lak to ruined eve'ybody in de cah. 84 LADY LUCK No suh ! Kain't run no trains an' no mascot at de same time. De rule book leaves out goats, but does you lug Lily wid you, yo' fust run sho' is yo' last." The Wildcat faced the moment of a great decision. "Den dey won't be no fust trip. C'm on heah, Lily. Much 'bliged, Baptis'. Me an' Lily looks fo' a job whah at dey ain't no rules again' mascots." The Wildcat headed south along Michigan Avenue, and in a little while he and Lily were adrift in a sea of humanity. The Backslid Baptist grunted his disgust and went about his own affairs. CHAPTER VIII AT midnight the Wildcat and Lily pitched) their lonely camp behind a billboard in South Chicago. "Sho' craves mah rations. .You done noble wid de grass, Lily, but Ah kain't eat grass. Seems lak you kin nutrify yo'se'f wid whuteveh vittles is lay ing 'round." In the dawn the Wildcat realized that his appetite had sprung up like a mushroom over night. "Wisht us wuz back wid oF Cap'n Jack in Memphis, whah at de ham-tree blooms th'ee times a day." At noon his stomach was the residence of a hunger panic. With his mascot trailing behind him, he headed toward the heart of the city. "Doggone 'at crap-shootin' hound. How come he clean me to mah last nickel, Ah don' know. Lady Luck, whah at is you?" An instant later, wearing a policeman's uniform and speaking a wild Irish language, Lady Luck descended upon the Wildcat. The Michigan Av enue traffic cop abandoned his post long enough to pounce upon his prey. 8s 86 LADY LUCK "What th' hell do yez mean prowlin' round th' Loop in broad daylight wid ivery man on th' force goin' crazy lookin' f'r yez*? Come along wid me." Ten minutes later, with the echoes of the patrol gong still ringing in his ears, the Wildcat and Lily were hazed through the black portals of an un friendly looking police station. They faced the desk sergeant. "Boy, is your name Vitus Marsden?" "Cap'n, yessuh. Folks gin' ally calls me Wile- cat." The desk sergeant busied himself with the tele phone at his elbow. Two minutes later he turned to the Wildcat. "Sit on that bench over there/' he said. The Wildcat sat down, and a black cloud of sur mise floated across his immediate horizon. "Lily, Ah 'spect us is 'rested mebbe on 'count ob dem pants you et offen de man in old 'partment B. Mebbe I'se took fo' 'sorbin' dem Acrobatic Spirits whut Backslid consecrated to me. Mebbe de lady wid de green chicken whut you et de feathers off ob done craved revenge. Mebbe de ol' Pullman car man aims to make you work out de price of 'at laundry you et in de linen closet." The Wildcat had no difficulty finding a dozen good reasons for his present embarrassment. He addressed a police officer near by. LADYLUCK 87 "Cap'n suh, whut fo' is me an' Lily sequestered heah hide jail?" Before the policeman could answer, the march of events made reply. Through the swinging doors of the station filed a dozen strange looking men. These men wore baggy red trousers, and on each man's head was the red fez which marked him as being a Potent Noble of the Mysterious Mecca. They descended upon the Wildcat. "Come on here, boy. Bring that goat. You and the mascot are due out on our special train twenty minutes from now. Here's your orders from the Pullman Com pany. You're on the payroll, and so is the mascot goat." "Cap'n, suh, you means me an' Lily is headed west wid de red fezant gen'men*?" "That's it." "Hot dam! Lily, 'tenshun! Lady Luck, how come I doubt you*?" CHAPTER IX THE Wildcat expanded in the sunlight of Lady Luck's smile. "Lady Luck, how come I doubt you"? Police folks, good-bye. Lily, 'tenshun! Come on heah. Us is a Pullman poteh. Ah craves mah rest. Le's go." Surrounded by an escort of Potent Nobles of the Mysterious Mecca, the Wildcat marched from the portals of the Chicago police station, headed for a west-bound train wherein he aimed to do the best he could in the role of porter for his carload of nobles. At the train gates the party was delayed five min utes to permit the entrance of a motley crew of man acled aliens. "How come them boys festooned with so much jinglin' hardware?" One of the Potent Nobles made reply. "Bad actors." "Cap'n, suh, who's dat black boy wid de straight hair and his head tied up in de white rag?" "Hindoo." "Some boy sho' must ob busted his head open, to need tyin' up so bad." LADY LUCK 89 Following the line of undesirables headed away from the land of the free, Lily, the Wildcat, and the Potent Nobles filtered through the gates into the train shed. They made their way down a long string of coaches, arriving finally at the Mazeppa. "Here's the car." "Car, howdy. Lily, git aboa'd." "Slip out and get me a box of cigars before we leave." A Potent Noble shoved a banknote at the Wildcat. "Cap'n, yessuh. Would you mind tyin' Lily on de front vegetable ob de car till I gits back?" Twelve minutes later, carrying in his hand a box of cigars, the Wildcat's second entrance was blocked by a ticket chopper who had a square jaw and a sense of duty. "Where's your ticket?" "Ain't got no ticket. I's de poteh wid de Mys terious Mecca gen'men. Le' me by." "Don't try to pull none o' that stuff around me." "Man, leave me by !" Armed with the conviction of authority and clad in a parade-leading Prince Albert whose brass buttons reassured him, the Wildcat violated one of the first principles of his life, which was never to oppose a white man. He slid past the ticket chopper, ducked into the gate, and boarded the train wherein rolled the Mazeppa. He caught a 90 LADY LUCK tourist Pullman three cars apart from the rolling residence of the Mysterious Mecca delegation and landed breathless in the open vestibule. "Fust thing old Backslid, what learned me de po'teh bizness, said to do was to close up de vegetable." This he proceeded to do. He turned and entered the car. For a second time he slid past blue-coated authority, in the form of a United States Deputy Marshal who was temporarily chaperoning the de parting aliens. "Hold on, there: where you headed for 1 ?" "Fs de poteh what takes care ob de Noble Fezant boys in de blue pants." The deputy marshal temporarily on guard had a fixed official rule of conduct: never take a chance. The Wildcat's words sounded crazy enough to entitle him to a membership card in the Traveling Nut Club. "Git in that car and sit down before I blow your head off! Where's your handcuffs'?" "Cap'n, how come'? Handcuffs seems so con fidential." Here, for some reason unknown to the Wildcat, was the hand of the law. Inside of his parade-lead ing Prince Albert the Wildcat shivered and shrunk three sizes. His brow wrinkled in perplexity LADYLUCK 91 beneath the velvet hat, and the bright yellow plumes thereon dropped in sudden melancholy. "Lady Luck, whah at is you 1 ?" "Mumblin' to himself and wearing the craziest rig in the car good thing I rounded up that bird." The deputy marshal added another star to his crown. "Plumb bughouse." He cast his eye over the occupants of the car. "Back to Russia. Try some of your ideas on them Bullshevik birds." He again addressed the Wildcat. "Cut out that mumblin'. All you got to do is keep still." "Cap'n, yessuh." The Wildcat removed his velvet hat and subsided in a seat beside the Hindoo agitator. "How come you got your head all tied up, boy*?" he asked the Hindoo. The Anarchist didn't see fit to reply. At Omaha the guards from the western division relieved their homesick eastern brothers. "Twenty-three of them," announced the man who had captured the Wildcat. "Watch that rag-head Hindoo and that nigger in the fourth seat. He's gittin' bad, all the time mumblin' to himself about Lady Luck and Lily; he believes he's a porter." Over the miles official carelessness rode in the 92 LADY LUCK carload of bad actors. Only when the train stopped were the guards vigilant. Sagged down in his seat beside the Hindoo, the Wildcat reviewed a tolerably measly past. "How come?" There was no accounting for what white men would do to a boy, but somewhere in the jumble the Wildcat sensed that he had been the victim of a mistake. "Mebbe I's headed fo' jail 'count o' runnin* past de man at de gates." After a thirty-minute delay at Granger the Wild cat saw a train leave the yards. On the platform of the observation car, surrounded by half a dozen Blue Fezant Nobles of the Mysterious Mecca, he saw Lily speeding away into an isolated future. "Lily, you hoodoo, good-bye. Lady Luck, here I is." I CHAPTER X N the early days of detachable cuffs and ten-cent whisky there had been a difference of opinion manifest in the railroad surveying party at Granger. Part of the gang headed northward to the salmon country; the rest of them blazed a trail to the south west, where the sand fleas live on artichokes. Lily and her escort were headed southwest towards San Francisco. Presently the Wildcat's car was cut into a train whose trail led northward through Idaho and Oregon. Lady Luck meanwhile had a hard time keeping up. Exhausted finally with her efforts, she set the stage a few hundred miles ahead and lay down and went to sleep. While she was sleeping a pair of hard boiled actors in the drama rummaged around in the woodshed back of a log house near the banks of the Columbia river. 'Pete, a skinny character with ears like a loving cup, raked three wheat sacks out of a pile of lumber. Into two of these sacks he cut a pair of holes two 93 94 LADY LUCK inches in diameter and about four inches apart. The third sack he left intact. He handed one of the sacks to his partner. "Here she is; see if it fits you." A fat bad actor by the name of Bill slipped the sack over his head. "Little narrow between the eyes." Three hours later these two agents of Lady Luck engaged in a little hard work in their search for easy money. The product of their energy took shape in the form of a pyramid of old ties piled between the rails of the line over which the Wildcat was ap proaching in his twelve-wheeled cage. Ten minutes before the train was due and while her crossing whistles could be heard in the dusk five miles up-stream, the two bad actors scrambled up the south bank of the Columbia. The skinny one poured a quart bottle of coal oil on the pile of ties and lighted it. The fat man lighted a cigarette. Both of them drew the wheat sacks over their heads. The fat man carried the third wheat sack slung at his waist on a string which went around his shoulder. The stillness of evening was broken by the roar of a locomotive whistle, and an instant later the wheels of the train smoked and screeched against the chattering brake shoes. In the cab ahead the handle of the air valve was slammed into the big notch. LADYLUCK 95 The flagman swung down from the rear end of the train and ambled back along the track for half the regulation distance. He set his lantern in the middle of the track and rolled a cigarette. Three lanterns flashed along the train, where the train conductor and two brakemen made their way ahead to see what was going on. Presently they found out and took their places beside the fireman and engineer, hands raised. With his wheat sack dangling more heavily on his hip as he progressed through the train, the fat bad actor skimmed the Pullman cream on his way forward to the plated jewelry in the day coach. On the vestibule of the Wildcat's car he en countered a locked door. Inside the car, on a seat beside the rag-head Hindoo, the Wildcat curled .him self up as a preface to twelve long chapters of easy sleep. "Sho's noble when de train stops; boy can sleep peaceful 'thout gittin' his insides scrambled." "Bam!" The fat bad actor shot the lock off the door of the Wildcat's car. "Boy sure can sleep noble. Good mawnin " The rest of the sentence was action and not words. On the echo of the shot from the fat bad actor's gun the Wildcat leaped automatically. He ran fast enough to sidestep two more shots that crashed into 96 LADY LUCK the night after him. The Hindoo passed him in the darkness. Down along the track the Wildcat's feet tore up great gobs of right-of-way. He passed the flagman, going like a brunet typhoon ten days overdue. After the first mile he began putting his feet down a little slower before he stepped on them. At the second mile his hind legs were dragging, and then suddenly, instead of the hard ground beneath his feet, there was nothing but a black void. He rolled a few times like a 'possum falling off a limb. He landed on the hard sand of the river bank. Night had fallen. "Lady Luck, here us is. Whah at is we*?" The Wildcat curled up and went to sleep. He woke up five minutes later. "Sho 5 is peace ful. How come I's so thirsty*?" Beside him the river offered him a solution to his thirst problems. On all fours he crawled to the river edge. He shoved his bow under the water and nearly sank himself absorbing as much of the Columbia river as could flow into his wide mouth. "Whuff ! Sho' is noble water." The black rippling water before him was suddenly shot with silver. Then it became a solid glistening black. A school of smelt, seeking the quiet water of the bank, fought their way upstream. The Wild- LADY LUCK 97 cat reached a tentative exploring paw into the stream of fish. "Fish, howdy. De table sho' is set. Come out heah." With his bare hands he snatched ashore a breakfast four sizes too big for his optimistic estimate of his stomach's capacity. "Quit floppin'. Ole Wilecat's done caught you." He felt for the box of Pullman matches in the pocket of his shirt, beneath *he folds of the parade-leading Prince Albert. Here was food and a chance to sleep. With the Wildcat, all was well. He accumulated a pile of firewood from the river bank, and presently a great fire was blazing. For an hour he gorged himself on smelt. "Whuff! Sho's noble fish.. Now I sees kin I sleep me." The twinkling stars rattled in their orbits in cadence to the Wildcat's snores. Sufficient unto the night was the evil thereof. Here, except for a few sand fleas, was peace. The Wildcat snuggled deeper into the intimate environment of the sand about him. His lower jaw dropped, and his tongue lolled out less than a foot. Three or four mosquitoes landed on him and did a little boring, but the Wild cat slept on. Presently the halo of fish about him quit flopping. In the dark waters of the river's 98 LADY LUCK margin their myriad brethren fought their way up stream. The Wildcat mumbled in his sleep, "Lady Luck sure done noble. I sleeps mos' all de time. I don' give a dog-gone If de sun don't nevah shine." 2. In the Cascades there had been berries enough for the bears and for the Indians. Now that the salmon run was heralded in the Columbia by the little fish scouts, all of the scattered members of the Flathead tribe not otherwise engaged coagulated from their several loafing grounds and headed for Memloose Island to pay their annual respects to the ghost of the King Salmon. Included in the tribe were a few solid citizens. Some of these were college graduates. John Run ning Bear, better known to the business men of The Dalles as John Franklin, left his tailored clothes at home and painted his brown body with yellow ochre. He stained his arms and face with the tribal marks of his people. He drove in his twelve-cylinder car to a point near the upstream tip of Memloose Island, whereon the Flathead salmon dance was to be held. He parked his car in a thicket of willows. "Safe enough," he said to his companion. "If some bundle-stiff or some drifter from a sheep camp LADY LUCK 99 up the line needs the old wagon more than I do, he's welcome to it. Let's go." At dawn Running Bear and his companions en countered a hundred of their fellows. From the camp the smoke of the cooking fires lifted in the still air. Running Bear opened a tin of chicken. He sighed. "This is the last civilized meal for the next six days." He breakfasted slowly, lingering over his coffee, and then half reluctantly the last trace of civili zation's veneer was cast aside. "Clee Hy Yah Skookum Kum chuck. Waugh !" 3- Half a mile upstream from the Indian camp the Wildcat greeted the dawn. Building a quick fire, he looked about him at the wrinkled little fish, drying in the early morning sunlight. Slithering past him in the water still persisted the mad rush of racing myriads. He threw the dead fish back into the stream and raked out a fresher breakfast. He poulticed a dozen fish with maple leaves and threw them in the glowing coals of his fire. Ten minutes later he again began the business of gorging himself on free fish. "Don't cost me nuthin'." He clawed the water ioo LADY LUCK for another dozen handfuls. "Free fish, howdy doo., "I eats when I can git it. I sleeps mos' all de time." Gorged to the bursting point, the Wildcat rolled over in the warm sunlight. He preferred not to go to sleep again, but in five minutes he was snoring along at his old sixty-mile gait. He slept all day. He was discovered and surrounded at evening by Running Bear and the rest of the tribe. Running Bear sized up the situation and pulled off a pow-wow with three or four of his companions. They arrived at a verdict. "A little black-face vaudeville might liven things up. These blasted tribal ceremonies need a cabaret attachment to jazz them up. How about it, red skins'?" "Let's go." The verdict was unanimous. Somewhere in the Wildcat's dreams there pres ently developed a rhythm in which the cadence of dancing feet punctuated his slumbers. His eyes opened finally, and within the range of his vision passed a parade of leaping figures. To his ears came the regular booming beat of a deerskin tom tom, punctuated by an occasional blood-curdling yell. His memory failed him. LADY LUCK 101 "How come dis voodoo bizness*?" He sat up. He got to his feet and instinctively crouched to a running position. The ring of dancing warriors about him tightened 1 up. "Lady Luck, whah is you*?" Running Bear lifted a flint-tipped spear over his head and emitted a shriek compared to which the Rebel yell was a chirp from the weakened lungs of the dove of peace. In spite of his fish-distended anatomy, the Wild cat shrivelled to boy's size. Running Bear emitted several mouthfuls of lan guage. "Naw suh, not me." The Wildcat denied everything. "I ain't only a field han'. Lemme by, boy. Whah at's yo' pants? How come you runnin' around nekked 4 ?" "Waugh!" Six Indians seized the Wildcat, and a moment later he was seated in the stern of a twenty-foot skiff, which presently embarked upon the surface of the Columbia. Beside the Wildcat sat Running Bear, speaking a fluent mixture of Flathead and Chinook. In time with Running Bear's measured periods, the Wildcat rolled his eyes. Now and then when the Indian's sense of humour got the best of him he 102 LADYLUCK varied his Chinook jargon with 'wild shrieks of laughter. "Sounds like dem crazy folks in dat car comin' from Chicago. Seems like de whole worl' done got crowded wid fools. What you laffin' at, boy 1 ?" In a little while the party landed at Memloose Island. Before them, rising sharply against the evening sky, drooping cottonwoods lifted high above an undergrowth of willows. The party marched down a little trail for half the length of the island, and then, at a point where the trail divided into the sombre interior of the wooded terrain, they left the sunlight. After a march of a hundred yards they came upon a clearing. About the clearing in the fringing woods were fifty rickety structures lifted on poles. On each of these, with its grinning skull lying to wards the east, lay a skeleton. The Wildcat began to sweat. He counted a dozen skeletons and added a few dozen prayers to his perspiration. In .a green alcove opening from the wider clearing seven skeletons stood erect in a ring about a flat stone. His captors carried the Wildcat to this stone and held him. A little apart from him Running Bear opened the services with a yell which echoed like a chorus from the inferno. The Wildcat gave up hope. LADY LUCK 103 "They sho' got me. What dey is I don' know. Lemme go, boys." The smoke from a dozen fires lifted in the clear ing. Staggering in from half a dozen paths came as many painted warriors, each bearing on his back a salmon nearly as long as its red-skinned carrier. Running Bear abandoned the vernacular for a moment and dropped into English. "The Gods of the waters have sent the salmon. The black man can feast with his red brothers." "Them words sure sounds noble. How come you pester me talkin' voodoo talk?" "After the feast the fires of sacrifice will be lighted. It is written that one of our number shall be burned at the stake." To the Wildcat's ears this sounded homelike, but not reassuring. "Lemme go! Lemme go!" He leaped from the rock and plunged through the fringing skeletons. Running Bear and a dozen of his companions loped along after the Wildcat. The galloping party covered the length of the island. Running Bear and his companions deployed in open order, to permit the Wildcat to double on his trail ; but that panic-stricken individual had fixed his course, and he sailed true to it. He headed for a twenty-foot bank, and his racing legs did not stop until the swirling waters of 104 LADY LUCK the Columbia had closed heavily over them. Running Bear, who had followed as swiftly as his civilized muscles would permit, gazed anxiously at the swimming Wildcat for a moment, to reassure himself of his victim' ssafety. "Go to it," he commented. "You'll make the mile in nothing flat with that panic crawl." He watched the Wildcat until the current swept him around the bend downstream. "He's safe," Running Bear commented. "On with the dance." He resumed the redskin role of a distant yesterday. "Waugh!" 4- In the gathering dusk the Wildcat swam and floated for a mile downstream in the currents of the Columbia; then under the insistent drag of a wide- swinging eddy he headed for the leading fences of a great salmon wheel whose plunging buckets dived into the black currents and lifted with their gamble of fifty-pound salmon. Now and then a heavier fish would punctuate the monotony of the catch. Flopping among their more substantial compan ions a fleet of leaping steel heads added splashes of silver to the Chinook background. The swimming Wildcat saw above him the de- LADY LUCK 105 scending framework of the fish wheel. He tried vainly to escape from the cage of wire netting fall ing from the sky upon him, but he was captured like a moth lost in a butterfly net. "Lady Luck, good-bye." The Wildcat dragged in a deep lungful of air as he went under. Five seconds later, preceded by three heavy-set salmon, he slithered down a trough into the storage bin in the hull of the fish wheel. About him were plunging fish. He looked at the square of evening light which glimmered through the hatch. "WhahatisI?' A fifty-pound salmon, sliding down the trough, struck fairly against the Wildcat's stomach. "Fish, how come 1 ?" Another leaping salmon slapped the Wildcat with his tail. "Don't kick me wid yo' tail. I'll bust you in de haid." The Wildcat struck wildly at the offending salmon. He slipped and fell into a vast fighting mass of lively fish. He wrestled with fins and tails. He called loudly for Captain Jack and for Lady Luck. Once he thought his call was answered, but for half an hour the Wildcat led an unstable slippery life. He sought a bed of inert fish, only to awaken five or six gasping demons who flopped upon him io6 LADY LUCK heavily. He reached in vain for the hatch coaming five feet above him. Half erect and with the deck timbers almost in his grasp, time and again his feet slipped from the back of a wriggling salmon. "Dog-gone you, stand still; get pacified." He hauled off and slammed a kick at a salmon which had tripped him. 'Til bust you in de belly." He landed with his equator submerged by nine nervous fish. He sought to embrace a giant salmon. The Chinook slapped at him with his tail. "Don' kick me wid yo' tail. I'll bust you in de nose." He swung wildly at the salmon and was com pletely submerged. He came snorting to the surface of the mass. "Whuff! Fish, git ca'm. Does yo' lay still I does." 5- On deck near the hatch coaming in the early night Mr. Ogaloff Skooglund, the proprietor of the fish wheel, massaged his front teeth with Copenhagen snuff and figured his winnings. "If de salmon fisk been running like dis tree day more Aye cleans oop sax t'ousand doller." An echo from some unseen source seemed to reply. LADY LUCK 107 Mr. Skooglund called loudly to the echo and then decided that he was crazy, for the call was repeated from the river bank. The proprietor of the fish wheel yelled a greeting into the darkness. Down the bank into the circle of light cast by a dim lantern came a fat man and a skinny individual with ears like a loving cup. The fat man carried a wheat sack whose heavy contents jingled when he sat it on the deck of the fish wheel. The pair were out of breath. The owner of the fish wheel stepped forward to try his English on his nocturnal visitors. "Hello, fellers," he said. The fat man answered, "Evenin'." The skinny man tightened up on his ears for an instant and swung at Mr. Skooglund with a short club. "Good evening," he said, accenting the blow. The Swede took the count with a grunt. The fat man and the skinny one picked up Mr. Skooglund and carried him to the open hatch. Feet first they dropped him upon the slithering mass of salmon five feet below. "He might drown. What did you hit him so hard for?' "No chance. He ain't hurt he'll sleep two or io8 LADY LUCK three hours. I only hit him light.. You can't kill these fish fighters hittin' 'em in the head, anyway. Ivory who's that?" The fish wheel was being boarded by another visitor. "Talk fish. You an' me owns the boat. We ain't seen nobody." The skinny man whispered quickly to his companion. "Kick that sack in the hold." The wheat sack with its clinking contents was cast into the open hatch. The Wildcat made another futile leap at the hatch coaming, just in time to catch the impact of the wheat sack and its jingling contents. "How come?" Then he twisted away from there and groaned a groan in which rumbled the anguished accents of horror. In the dim light he saw Mr. Skooglund's face festooned completely by floundering salmon. Fear froze him. "Salmon wid a man's face. I sho' is crazy." Then to his ears from the deck of the fish wheel came the diverting tones of a voice which he had heard before. "The fat bad actor !" "The fat bad actor!" He listened for a moment to reassure himself, and then the motive of revenge was added to the other sources of inspiration which tensed the muscles of LADY LUCK 109 his legs. He leaped once more for the hatch coam ing. This time he grabbed it. Silently he swung himself to the deck of the boat. Panting with his efforts, he lay quiet in the darkness. In the dim lantern light he saw three figures. The fat bad actor was speaking. "Naw, sir. Sheriff, we ain't seen nobody. We just bought this here wheel from the fellow that owned it yesterday. What did you say them train robbers looked like*?" The Wildcat snaked himself forward toward the fat bad actor. On the way his hand encountered the blade of an oaken oar. Thereafter for the next twenty feet he trailed the oar after him. He came within range and above the head of the fat bad actor lifted the heavy handle of the oar. "Bam!" On the instant the Sheriff leaped for the shadows.; Out of the darkness came his voice. "Don't move ! Nobody !" "Cap'n, I don' crave to move, an' de fat boy kain't, any more dan de dead man in de cellar." The Sheriff's voice came out of the night clear as the cold stars. "Cut a piece of that rope and tie this man's hands." The Wildcat was a little slow about tying a white man's hands, but he glanced at the blue-nosed equalizer dimly outlined in the Sheriff's steady hand and accelerated his gestures. no LADY LUCK "Tie up that other man layin' on the deck. Tie them two men together." "Cap'n, yessuh. How 'bout de dead boy layin' in de boat cellar?" The Sheriff, fearing a ruse, hesitated for only a moment. "Drop a rope down there and crawl down where he is. Tie it under his arms and then come back and haul him up." "Fs skeered to touch dat boy; feared he come back and follow me." The Sheriff swung the gun at the Wildcat. "Hurry up, before I spatter a hole through you." "Cap'n, yessuh." The Wildcat made a line fast and threw the end of it into the hull of the fish wheel. He retrieved Mr. Skooglund from his en vironment of flopping salmon and tied the line under the arms of the inert man. He scrambled back on deck and hauled the Swede after him. "Get a bucket of water and throw it on him." Under this ungentle treatment the victim presently opened his eyes. He reached an unsteady hand to his head and inspected a knob thereon the size of an egg. "Yust ven I hear de little angels iss singing, de earthquake troo de church down on me." His vision encountered the Sheriff and the Wild cat. LADY LUCK 111 "Was any salmon saved?'* The Sheriff reassured him. "You had a wallop on the head. You're all right now." He abandoned Mr. Skooglund for a moment and turned to the Wildcat. "Where's the dividend?" "Cap'n, how come?" "Come through with the clean up. You got enough watches and rings from them passengers to sink this craft." "Mebbe it's de bag." Convoyed by the swinging muzzle of the Sheriff's gun, the Wildcat dived, again into the open hatch and returned presently with the jingling wheat sack swung about his shoulders. The Sheriff inspected the contents. "That's it." He turned to the Swede. "You able to walk?" It seemed that Mr. Skooglund could navigate on his hind legs. The fat bad actor still lay uncon scious on the deck. The Wildcat had done a good job with the oar, and it took six buckets of water to bring the fat man out of his slumbers. The quartette preceded the Sheriff down the narrow gang plank to the bank. They made their way a mile upstream and came upon the Sheriff's horse, hitched fast to a cottonwood on the river bank. The 112 LADY LUCK Sheriff fired his revolver three times in the air. Half an hour later he yelled loudly, and an answer ing call came from the distance through the night. "That's the rest of the gang." The party was joined presently by half a dozen riders. Two hours later the Wildcat, heavily ironed, rode beside Mr. Skooglund in the smoking car of the train headed for The Dalles. Dawn was breaking as the Sheriff and his companions marched up the street from the station. Presently, in a cell apart from the rest of the world, the Wildcat heard the clanking of the heavy bolts which made the cell door a barrier., "Lady Luck, how come?" 6. Lady Luck was on the job. At eleven o'clock that morning the fat bad actor confessed, and in his confession the Wildcat was cleared. A Deputy brought a telegram to the Sheriff. The Sheriff read it. "Thousand dollars, hey? Looks to me like that nigger deserves the reward." The Sheriff was honest. "Fetch him in here." The Wildcat was hazed into the Sheriff's presence. "The railroad is paying a thousand dollars reward for roundin' up them two men. Maybe they'd got loose if you hadn't nailed that one in the head. I'll LADY LUCK 113 give you a letter to the Portland office and you can go down there and get your money." "Cap'n, yessubu Hot dam! Fish always was lucky with me." Mr. Skooglund augmented the reward with a personal offer. "Any time you wanting a salmon fisk I give you one free." "Cap'n, suh, I sho' is much obliged, but if I neveh see a fish again, dat's twice too soon fo' me." CHAPTER XI THE Wildcat felt noble. Against yesterday's clouds tomorrow's skies lay blue. The Sheriff's office at The Dalles was a com fortable place wherein to wait for the thousand- dollar reward which Lady Luck had showered down on her prodigal protege. Half asleep, the Wildcat mumbled to a buzzing fly. " 'At's it. Tryin' to bust yo' brains out on de window glass. J At's how come you ain't got none. Cravin' to git loose all de time. S'pose you git loose 1 ? Whah at would you go? Some ol' spidah'd git you de fust mile. Ca'm yo'se'f. Heah you is in de sunshine an' all warmed up. You jess like folks neveh knows when you's lucky." The Wildcat's soliloquy was interrupted by a verbal volley from the Sheriff. "Here's your letter. Take it down to the railroad office in Portland; they'll pay you the thousand-dollar reward for help ing capture that pair of train robbers." "Cap'n, yessuh. Neveh seed so much money. Sho' come easy." "Come easy, go easy. I suppose you'll load your- 114 LADY LUCK 115 self up on square-face gin and get rolled the first night you're in town." "No, suh, not me! I aims to 'vest mah money in de fried smelt business. Right now I's a Pullman porter. In Poteland mebbe I sees kin I buy myself free. Anyway, I starts me a smelt fish business. River's full ob oF smelt fish. I ketches me a wagon load. I builds me a fire in mah fish wagon, an' when de fish is fried I sells 'em two bits a pan to de Poteland niggers. Neveh seed a nigger 'at wouldn't trade two bits fo' a belly full o' fish." "Good-bye. Good luck with your smelt fish en terprise." The Sheriff terminated the interview. The Wildcat stowed his thousand-dollar-reward letter in the inside pocket of the parade-leading Prince Albert which had seen temporary service as a Pullman porter's uniform. He made his way to the railroad station and sat down at a point where a splash of sunlight dived into a pool of heat which radiated from the wall of the depot. For a little while his neck muscles held his head erect, and then, with his drooping eyelids, his head fell forward. His meandering tongue offered an irresistible in vitation to the mumbling fly which had escaped with the Wildcat from the Sheriff's office. The fly enjoyed the viscous environment until he suc ceeded in getting himself all squashed up in an in- ii6 LADY LUCK stinctive gesture back of which were the clutching fingers of the Wildcat's swinging hand. "Fly, how come you so confidential? 'At's mah pussonal tongue. On yo' way." The buzzer was batted into oblivion. A moment later the roar of an incoming train sounded in the Wildcat's ears. "Fly sho' was handy. Sho' did me a good turn wakin' me up. Mebbe dey's got brains just like folks, else how come dey knows when it's train time'?" He boarded the train and settled down in a seat in the smoking car. A Pullman porter from the twe'lve : wheeled battle ship on the aft end of the train came forward and encountered the Wildcat. "Mawnin', boy; whah at you bound*?" "Poteland." "You a Poteland boy*?" The Wildcat indulged in a little autobiography. "Not me. I 'filiates wid de Pullman company a long time back, conveyin' a westbound carload of Potent Nobles ob de Mystic Mecca wid blue Fez- ants. Us got divo'ced somewhere. Dey an' mah mascot goat gits drug to San Pmcisco. I gits penned up wid a rag-head Hindoo boy an' some crazy folks in anotheh train. I jines me in a ruckus wid train robbers. Den I busts loose, an' some In dian boys starts in to barbecue me. I swims myself LADY LUCK 117 free an' de oF Sheriff gives me a thousan' dollahs fo' ketchin' 'em. Wish they'd been a dozen." "Boy, I seed so many liars I got so I b'lieves lies, but yo' sho' strains me." The Wildcat fished around in his parade-leading Prince Albert and produced the evidence. "Read dis letter. See does I strain you." The infidel read the letter. He looked at the Wildcat. "Is yo' name Vitus Marsden?" The Wildcat acknowledged his verbal label. "Folks gin' ally knows me as Wilecat, 'count o' me bein' de mil'tary Wilecat ob de Fust Service Bat talion in France fo' so long." The Pullman porter extended his hand. "Sho' glad to meet up wid you, Mistah Marsden. Mah name's Daniels. Dey gin'ally calls me Dwindle." "Proud to meet you, Mistah Daniels. Did you come out ob de lion's den or de Navy*?" "Neither one. I'se a Bummin'ham Republican." The Wildcat reached for his letter. "Gimme back dat letter. No boy f'm Alabam' is safe wid a money letter." "How come?" "Wust cleanin' I ever got in a' cube ruckus come off a Bummin'ham boy." "Money come, money go. What you gonna' do when you gits yo' thousan' dollahs?" "Fish business. I aims to start me a fried fish ii8 LADY LUCK wagon in Poteland. Figgah out de profits. Heah's de ol* rivah dusty wid smelt fish. Heah's de Pote land niggahs cravin' to 'sorb fish mawnin', night, an' noon. I gits me some fryin' pans an' I cooks me up some fresh fish every day. Dey don't cost me nuthin'. I collects two bits a panful. 'At runs in to big money." Dwindle Daniels did some fast financial thinking. "How does you aim to cook fish an' ketch 'em bofe, wid de Columbia river six miles f'm Poteland'?' The Wildcat hadn't thought of this detail. He made his associate a proposition. "Dwindle, s'pose you 'filiates with me. Us ketches de fust wagon-load; den I fries fish an' col lects de money whilst you ketches mo' fish." "De fust day 'at's all right. Second day I's treasurer." "Suits me." For the next twenty miles the two fish financiers dived into the details of their commercial venture, and when the train slowed for the bridge leading across the Willamette to Union Station in Portland their plans were completed. At the street gates of Union Station a policeman directed the Wildcat to the railroad offices. He lost the trail and wandered around for half an hour, but finally, with the assistance of a hundred ques tions, he made port. LADY LUCK 119 An elevator boy directed him to the treasurer's offices, wherein presently he received a slip of blue paper in the lower right hand corner of which was the treasurer's signature. "Cap'n, suh, what's datMebbe when I comes back heah nex' time us starts some business. Not now. Naw, suh not me !" "Wilecat, some business ain't so bad. All you does is set dere an' take in de money." "All you does is set dere, you mean, an' listen* to some triflin' niggah wantin' groceries or mebbe wantin' to eat whilst you supplies free grub, does you run a restaurant. Dem boys what buys easy never is got money. Naw, suh, I don't want no business, Mud Turtle. All I want is Lady Luck an* mah mascot goat." The Mud Turtle continued his business dream without paying much attention to the Wildcat's arguments. "Dere's de anti-hair-kink business; all a boy does is buy some things at the drugsto' an' mix 'em up an' sells 'em at fifty cents a bottle. All de niggahs in de worl' craves to buy anti-kink juice. I's seed some remedies what took off de scalp an' some what removes de brain, but it don't make no diff'unce niggahs keep on buyin', no matteh how! deep de remedy digs in." "Dat business is ol'," the Wildcat objected "Dat's too ol* to ketch folks any mo'." "So's kinky hair ol'," answered the Mud Turtle. "Dat business still ketches 'em. While de kinky hair las', so does de anti-kink business. Dat ain't de only business I knows. You an' me had luck LADY LUCK 157 wid fish part bad luck an' part good luck. Here's de ocean an' here's San F'mcisco bay crowded wid fish. 'Spose us gits a wagon an' some hooks fo' ketchin' fish an' comes home eve'y day wid a wagon load." "Don' say fish to me, boy ! All de bad luck I'se had lately come f'm fish. See kin you talk 'bout some good-luck business does yo' crave to. Ah ain't got oveh mah fish luck yit." "How 'bout de boot-leggin' business, Wilecat 4 ? Dey sho' is big money in dat." "Nobody to sell to no mo'. Eve'ybody's boot- leggin' now. You steps up to a man on de street an' says 'How 'bout it 1 ?' an' he thinks you's tryin* to buy. Eve'ybody's boot-leggin' ! See kin you think ob some business what's got some customers, instead ob eve'ybody runnin' de business deyself. Naw, suh, I aims not to let no business 'flooence me. I rounds me up Lily an' meets up wid Lady Luck, an' someday I sees oP Cap'n Jack agin', an' den I quits worryin'. What I craves mos' is to ketch Lily an' den git some regulah run where I sleeps mos' all de time. 'Less I fin's mah mascot I aims to quit de whole Pullman business an' let 'em git on de bes' dey can widout me." "Boy, how come you so tame? When we lef* Poteland all you talked about was startin' a sinful life an' bustin' all de speed records on de road to 158 LADY LUCK hell. Now all you craves is to settle down. Has de itch got you? 'Pears like you needs quinine." "I don' need nuthin' 'ceptin' Lily an' Lady Luck an' mebbe a slug o' gin." "Cain't git no gin now days." "Mud Turtle, when us gits to Oaklan' you follow me. I'll bet dat rabbi boy what chefs on dis train knows whah at is some gin. Any man what kin throw a dose ob hoof oil together on short notice what makes a nigger look like a cyclone sho' can dig up a drink o' gin. Quick as us gits to Oakland I trails 'at boy down. Chances is he starts de rabbi business soon as he gits his apron off. I depends on him fo' gin. I's jined up wid de chu'ch when I was sixteen, but now I aims to git backslid back enough to take de road what leads into dis rabbi place. You goes in an' takes off yo' hat, an' as quick as you gits baptized, the ol' preacheh says, 'Boys, what'll it be*?' I says, 'Make mine gin.' OF Mud Turtle say, 'Make mine gin.' We says 'at 'bout six times, an' away us goes lookin' fo' Lily. 'At's better'n any business talk you'se talkin'." "I'll say so, Wilecat fo'get de business. Us has money, anyhow. There's that fo' hund'ed dollahs you give me an' whatever you'se got left off de Spindlin' Spider boy you cleaned in Poteland. I agrees wid you fo'get de business." With the arrival of the train in Oakland, about LADY LUCK 159 four minutes sufficed to clear up the Mud Turtle's official obligations to the company. Immediately thereafter he and the Wildcat set out to overtake the dining car chef, whom they had seen leaving the terminal. The Wildcat edged up beside the rabbi. "Boy," he said, "how 'bout some licker? Me an' the Mud Turtle here craves to git baptized wid a couple o' slugs o' gin. Is de gin included in de rabbi business 1 ?" The chef looked at the Wildcat. "Us rabbis handles some gin, but it sho' comes high." "Boy, us aims to pay high. You ain't talkin' to no busted steamboat niggahs. Us ain't fiel' han's. Me an' my podneh got money ; all we craves is gin." The chef's gaze left the Wildcat's face for a mo ment and seemed to travel to some more distant point. The Wildcat's statement of his finances had aroused the rabbi's cupidity. "Come on heah," he said briefly. The three made their way up town and presently entered the door of a ramshackle structure standing midway of a block lined by similar buildings. They walked into a darkened room, and the Wildcat saw a fresco of gleaming white eyeballs ranged about him. "Whah at is us*?" he asked the rabbi. "Dis heah's de Oaklan' Pleasure Club, sort of a social off-shot f'm de chu'ch." 160 LADY LUCK "What chu'ch?" "Chu'ch is called Banded Brothehs ob de Loose Barrel Hoop. I rabbis fo' dem when I's in town. When I'se away dey's got another boy what does de rabbi work." The chef turned to the assemblage. "Boys, meet up wid de Mud Turtle. I 'spec' some o' you all knows him. Dis heah other boy travels under de name ob de Wilecat." A voice from a corner of the room bellered into the midst of the assemblage. "What'll it be, boys? Dis is on de Wilecat." The Wildcat put on the financial brakes. "How come"?" "Dis heah's de initiation drink. Everybody what joins de Banded Brothehs buys a drink fo' de congregation." The Wildcat's eyes had become more accustomed to the darkness. " Tears like I gits lifted fo' goin' on fo'ty drinks." Presently half a dozen bottles were mingling around with the congregation, and the Wildcat's words to the Mud Turtle beside him were drowned in a chorus of gurgling throats. The gulping ceased. Out of an obscure corner of the room came the Auditor's tones. "Eighty-two dollars. Wilecat, pay me befo' de long green gits wilted." The Wildcat was no piker, but the bill hit him LADY LUCK 161 pretty hard. "Fs seen saloons you could buy complete fo' half de money," he remonstrated. He walked over to where a narrow square of light broke through the wall. He fished out a big roll of bills from which he proceeded to count ninety dollars. He replaced the money in his pocket. As he did so a yellow electric light flashed in another part of the room and burned steadily above a small table upon which was stretched a green cloth. A man beside the table called to the newcomer. "Wilecat, de pleasure part ob de entertainment now starts. Now you gits action." "How come action? Action what wid?" "Action wid de freckled bones what knows 'rithmetic." The Wildcat accepted the invitation. Here was a chance to retrieve the price of the drinks. He walked over to the corner. "Whah at's de bones'?" In allowing his opponent to supply the weapons he had committed a serious technical error, but the only other dice in the crowd were the taper cubes belonging to the Mud Turtle, and the Wildcat knew that the production of these dice in that congregation would probably result in his immediate disintegra tion under the blades of some hungry social razors. The boy on the opposite side of the table spoke. "Shoots fifty dollahs!" "You sho' starts blooded." The Wildcat peeled 162 LADYLUCK fifty dollars from his roll. "You'se faded. Roll 'em." The boy rolled them, and an ace-dooce bloomed under the electric light. A grunt of disappointment went up from several interested veterans of the Banded Brothers gathered around the table, and the rabbi plunged his way into the crowd. He used a few words not commonly included in a rabbi's vocabulary. "Git out o' de way. Gimme dem dice. How come you makes dis mistake*?" He took the dice from the loser. "Wilecat, Ah shoots fifty dollars !" The Wildcat divided his winnings -and laid fifty dollars on the table. "Rabbi, roll 'em." The rabbi breathed a fervent prayer upon the speckled cubes and cast them away from him .into the outer darkness. "Freckle tops, git right! Bam! I reads seven. Lets it lav. Shoots a hun- d'ed!" "Roll 'em, you'se faded." The Wildcat trimmed himself for another hundred. The rabbi made another throw. "Luck dice, ketch dat Wilecat. Whuff ! An' dey says five an' a six. Dey sho' is lucky." The Wildcat grunted. "Lucky fo' you." "Pussonel luck is de luck I likes best," the rabbi returned. "I lets it lay. You has yo' chance. Shoots two hund'ed." LADY LUCK 163 The Wildcat skinned his roll for two hundred dollars. "Dese heah frog skins sho' has got de quick dwindles. You'se faded. Roll 'em." The rabbi abandoned his ecclesiastical lingo and fell into the vernacular. "Tiger dice, claw me! Turtle dice, off de log ! Soap dice, git slick. Clean dat Wilecat. Gun dice, pull de triggah wham! An' I reads six-ace." The Wildcat's fingers began to itch for the pos session of the bones. He turned to the Mud Turtle, who was close beside him. "Hot dam, boy, dat talk sho' sounds nat'chul! Dat boy growed up some* place else befo' he started de rabbi business." The rabbi raked in his winnings. He slipped half the roll and laid it on the green cloth. "Shoots two hund'ed. Fade me is you reckless !" The Wildcat was in too deep to back out. He pared two hundred dollars from his roll and laid it beside the rabbi's stake. "Boy, yo' luck's got to bus' sometime, even is you a rabbi. Roll 'em an* see kin you roll to de po' house." The rabbi spoke confidentially to the dice for a few moments and then his voice lifted, above the murmur of the congregation. "Snow babies, let de soot specs read -seven. Rooster dice, crow de pay call ! Hen dice, hatch de money eggs. Mule dice, kick dat boy into de rivah ! Bam ! An' I reads five- dooce." 164 LADY LUCK This triumph of the rabbi was a signal for a revolt on the part of the Wildcat. "I quits. I craves to handle dem bones pussonal. Does you own 'em all de time I quits." The rabbi handed a pair of dice to the Wildcat. "Roll 'em does you crave to," he said. The conces sion was made only after he had switched the dice. The Wildcat got hold of twin dice which were loaded to come out dooce, trey, or twelve on the first throw. He warmed the dice to a functioning temperature in the palm of his right hand. In his left he held the remainder of his roll. He laid the money on the centre of the table. "Shoots it all. Two hund'ed dollars. Fade me, boy." The rabbi counted out two hundred dollars, but before the Wildcat threw the dice the Mud Turtle beside him spoke up. "I shoots fo' hund'ed on the Wildcat's luck. Shoot's fo' hund'ed. Fade me, boy." The rabbi grunted and dug into his roll for an other four hundred. The Wildcat turned to the Mud Turtle. "Boy, us is bust does I lose !" "I been bust befo', Wilecat. So is you. Roll 'em see kin you git double or nuthin'." The Wildcat said a few words to the dice, and an instant later they rattled across the green cloth. "Cyclone babies, blow dat rabbi to hell! Whuff! LADY LUCK 165 An' I reads ace-dooce. Doggone, Lady Luck, whah at is you?" The Mud Turtle grabbed the Wildcat by the arm. "Come on heah befo' dey gits yo' clothes/* The Wildcat turned away from the table. "Us sho* needs 'at mascot goat. Was hard luck a minny us done ketched a whale. Trouble wid luck, it's always changin'. Don' stay on de good side long enough fo' a boy to git settled down." He bade farewell to the rabbi. "You sho' was right. I'll say gin comes high. Fo' hund'ed dollars a drink!" The rabbi laughed a hollow laugh. "Come on back sometime an' try de thousan' doll ah gin when you feels strongeh." "Does I find Lily an' Lady Luck I comes back an* shows you some million-dollar gin mebbe." "On your way, boy at's de quinine talkin'!" CHAPTER XVI LAUNCHED by the rabbi's parting taunt, the Wildcat and the Mud Turtle made their way out of the ginagogue. On the street the Wildcat set the course toward Twelfth Street. His companion pounded along as best he could for a while and then voiced a protest. "What for is you got such a hot foot*?" "Come on heah, oF Mud Turtle. I craves to meet up wid dat Lily goat befo' any mo' calamity ketches up wid me." "Whah you spec' to fin' dat doggone goat?" "San F'mcisco some place. Ah tol' you once. De Blue Fezant boys went to San F'mcisco on de train, an' de las' I seed ob Lily she was penned up along wid 'bout nine ob dem boys. 'At goat's in San F'mcisco." 4t Hbw long you spec' it take you to fin' 'at mascot in San F'mcisco? You know how big 'at town is?" "Boy, I been dere. I been clear from downtown out to de Presidio whah at dey keeps de ahmy boys an' de gin'rals. I seed 'at town befo'." The Mud Turtle grunted. "You ain't seed 166 LADY LUCK 167 nuthin*. 'At town's ten times 'at big. Was Lily fo' years ol' when you started lookin' she'd be eight hund'ed fo' you foun' her, 'less you had luck." ''Does I fin' her I gits all de luck I needs. Us wins bofe ways, 'cause all de bad luck I could git wouldn't be no worse'n what us has now. I'se plum busted. How is you?" The Mud Turtle audited the depths of his pocket. "Nuthin' but some ravelin' lint an' fo' bits." " 'At's enough. Don' look so mean, ol' Mud Turtle. Does us see another rabbi walkin' down de main street us better take de alley fo' he sees us. Dem rabbi boys is just like a ticket to de po' house. Dem ginagogue gin rabbis is de wust of all." At eleven o'clock the pair -landed at the ferry building in San Francisco. As a precaution against lunch money, they saved the change from Mud Turtle's half dollar and walked towards the centre of the town. They landed finally in Union Square. The Wildcat flopped down on the grass, and the Mud Turtle joined him. "Mud Turtle, what's dat big house oveh there*?" He pointed at the St. Francis Hotel. "Boy, thought you told me you was here once befo'. Dat's de St. Frantic Hotel." "How come de boy frantic what dey named de hotel fo'?" 168 LADY LUCK '* 'Spec' he drunk some hoof oil, o' mebbe met a gin rabbi. Sho' is a fine day." "All de days I seen in de town was fine days, 'ceptin* some evenin's when de fog gits heavy." "Or fog comes in mighty handy does you owe money. Boy kin lose hisself f'm a bloodhoun' easy in de fog." The Wildcat stretched himself out and prepared to go to sleep, but before he had accomplished his purpose he was interrupted by his companion. "Wilecat, look at dem two boys on de hotel steps. Dey sho' looks like dem Blue Fezant Nobles you was speakin' 'bout." The Wildcat rose to his knees and looked across Powell Street. Sure enough, there before his eyes stood two of the Blue Fezant gentlemen. He lost no time in going towards them. "Come on heah, Mud Turtle! I knowed we'd meet some o' dem Blue Fezant boys. Come on heah!" A moment later the Wildcat and the Mud Turtle confronted the two Nobles of the Mysterious Mecca. Each of the nobles was festooned with a golf bag. The pair were headed for Lincoln Park. The Wild cat spoke to the larger of the two gentlemen. "Cap'n, suh," he said, "I was de po'tah on a special car f'm Chicago what hauled some of you Blue Fez ant gen'men out heah. Kin you tell me whah at Lily mah mascot goat is?" LADY LUCK 169 The Blue Fezant gentleman looked at the Wildcat for a moment. "Seems to me I heard about that goat. Some of the boys got him some place." The second man interposed some additional in formation. "You mean the white goat? He's out with Jim and Frank on the golf links." The first Potent Noble turned toward the Wild cat. "He's out where we're going now. Come with us and maybe you'll find him. Is he your goat?' "Cap'n, suh, you sho' soun' good! Does I meet up wid dat Lily I beats 'at goat to death mebbe. Lily sho' is mah goat. I raised him clean f'm France." He turned to his companion. "Mud Turtle, take 'at. bag fo' de gen'men. Cap'n, suh, we carry dis stuff." The Potent Nobles smiled at each other. "These boys can caddy for us. Do you boys want to caddy for us?" Without knowing exactly what it was, the Wild cat signed quite a contract. "Cap'n, yessuh. Whatever you wants, us does. How come dis caddy business?" IC You carry the bag around while we go golf hunt ing." The Wildcat spoke lowly to the Mud Turtle. "Golf hunting? What's dis heah golfs? Neveh seed one pussonally." 170 LADY LUCK "Boy, 3on't you know what golfs is? Sumpin' like a dog, only smaller. Bom wild. Dey gin' ally gits wilder when dey grows up." "How big does dey git*?" "Dog size some bigger, sometimes.'* "Neveh seed none in Memphis." "Dey's tame down dere ; out heah dey grows wild. Some parts, de wild golfs run 'roun' so thick a man hardly kin plough his fiel', 'thout carryin' six or eight shotguns on de pl'ow. Dis country was 'fested wid golfs till de Indians got heah." " Tested wid Indians till white folks got heah, too. I guess could de Indians kill a golf us is safe." He turned to one of the Potent Nobles. "Cap'n, suh, what does you kill dese here golfs wid?" The Noble was quick to take up the deception. "We beat 'em to death with those ckibs. If you get a small blue golf, you beat him with an iron club. For the savage red ones you use that club with the piece of brass on it. The whisky golf is the worst, though ; he sort of sneaks up on you. You use those little clubs for them. They're called putters. They're shorter so you can use 'em in close places. Short and deadly." The quartette were presently seated in an automo bile which was retrieved from Powell Street. On the way to the Lincoln Park golf course the partyde- toured through Golden Gate Park. The car drove LADY LUCK 171 past the enclosure wherein leaped a dozen full grown kangaroos. One of the Potent Nobles pointed to the awkward animals. "There's some golfs now if you boys never seen any." A restless kangaroo made a thirty-foot leap. "Lawd Gawd, Cap'n, does you kill dem debbils wid clubs'? I craves a cannon an' forty miles' range, or else one o' them airplane flyin' things." "All you have to do is to stand right close behind me and you'll be safe." The Wildcat's training had taught him to trust the word of a white man. "Cap'n, yes, suh." As far as he was concerned, the conversation was ended, but in spite of the Potent Noble's reassuring words, a feeling of uneasiness seemed to undermine him. At the hunting preserves in Lincoln Park it be came evident that luck was not with the two golf- killing Nobles of the Mysterious Mecca, because about all these two gentlemen did was to continue the monotonous business of knocking a couple of innocent looking white balls across the landscape. Every now and then they would come upon a grass lawn with an iron cup in the centre of it, and then each Potent Noble would waste a lot of time urging his ball into the cup with the short and deadly putter which was normally used for slaughtering whisky golfs which sneaked up on you. After the first mile or two the zest of the chase was 172 LADY LUCK dulled by the Wildcat's habitual languor. He edged over towards the Mud Turtle. "Mud Turtle* 'spec' dese gen'men gwine to give us fo' bits, mebbe, fo' he'pin 'em hunt dese golfs what we ain't seed. Ah feels dismal. Every time dey shoots 'at ball, s'posin' you an' me shoots ten cents'?" "Jriow come, Wilecat*? You knows us cain't monkey wid dis huntin' game." "I don't mean monkey wid de huntin'," the Wild cat returned. "Is you got a lead pencil*? 'Sposin' us marks de li'l white balls wid de dice freckles an'' reads 'em when dey drops. Fust you take one time, den I takes anotheh. Us plays some mountain dom inoes. Got to do sumpin', else us goes to sleep. Den like as not some ragin' golf sneak up an' eat yo* innards fo' you has a chance to wake up. Le's try shootin' some sevens at de scenery." Action followed the Wildcat's words, and pres ently the two golf balls then in use were marked with a pattern of black dots running from the gentle ace to the belligerent six spot. Thereafter the two Potent Nobles had reason to wonder at the sudden industry exhibited by their caddies, who leaped after each ball almost before the club had touched it. "Bam! Look at that boy go, Jim! I wish we could get caddies like that in Chicago; the lazy devils never would go after a ball. These fellows are bears." LADY LUCK 173 "They're all good, the best caddies I ever had were niggers in the south, after you get 'em woke up, that is." Meanwhile, out at the destination of the golf ball the Wildcat and the Mud Turtle were inspecting it where it lay. "Three up." The pair raced to the point where the other ball had fallen. "She reads fo'. Fo' an' three is seven. Wilecat, doggone you, you wins again." "Sho' I wins ! Didn' dem Blue Fezant boys say dis heah mascot goat ob mine was roustin' roun' out heah? Whaheveh dat goat is, so is Lady Luck. Fo' long I meets up wid Lily, an' den I shows you some winnin' what is." The two Potent Nobles holed out at the ninth, and the party crossed the road under the trees to the tenth tee. "Cap'n, suh," the Wildcat asked, "what's 'at rook oveh dah, widout no roof an' de rock wailr' The Potent Noble looked over at the Chinese tomb. "That's where some Chinaman is buried," he said. "That's a Chinese tomb." "Tomb! Some dead boy tayin' in it?" "I'll say so maybe a dozen of 'em. This whole golf pasture is built over a graveyard." The Wildcat stiffened and looked at the Mud Turtle. "Lawd Gawd, Mud Turtle! Us cravin' to meet Lady Luck an' walkin' 'roun' in a graveyard ! 174 LADY LUCK Sho' makes me dwindle up inside ! No wondeh dem man-eatin' golfs is so ragin' out heah. Wish I could fin' dat doggone Lily Goat." He turned to one of the Potent Nobles. "Ain't we startin' down town, Cap'n, fo' it gits dark?" "It'll be two hours yet before it gets dark. We've got time to hunt another golf or two. Shut up while I drive." "Cap'n, yessuh." At the sixteenth tee the Potent Noble looked down at the heavy fog which was rolling in through the Golden Gate. He addressed the balk He jum bled around on his feet and took a couple of practice swings. Perfection was in every movement. Then, as he drove, the Wildcat sneezed. There followed a blast of profanity whose equal the Wildcat had not heard since his army days. He edged over towards the Mud Turtle. "Neveh seed a boy change so quick. Heah he is, pleasant one minnit, an' den he hits dat ball an' goes hog wild. Seems like " He was interrupted by the Potent Noble, who had calmed down. "Git the hell out in the rough there and find that ball I sliced." "Yes, suh." The Wildcat started out through the fog to find the freckled white sphere. He threshed around in the trees and underbrush for a while, and then to his mind came a memory of the horrible words which the Potent Noble had spoken. LADY LUCK 175 "This place was a graveyard !" The Wildcat shud dered extensively and abandoned the search for the golf ball. He looked up, and there before him was a tomb stone ! "Lawd Gawd, Lady Luck, whah is you 1 ?" Auto matically his feet began to work, and they were aided an instant later by his racing legs. He went away from there through the fog. The next thing he knew, he had made a forty-foot dive over a sand bank. He rolled for a moment in the shifting sand before he brought up against a stunted cedar. "Whah at is I?" The fog cleared, and the Wildcat saw the sand dunes stretching below him. At the edge of the slope were the waves of the Golden Gate. Then the fog closed in again, and everything about him faded out of the picture. Above his head, out of the drifting fog, a flight of sea gulls started a little gossip. To the Wildcat's ears came their shrieking remarks. He stopped his wild shuddering and began to moan. " 'At's dem ghost boys ! I know 'em ! Lady Luck, take dem boys away. I ain't talkin' wid no ghosts." He turned and started up the bank. He began throwing sand out from under his feet like a record-busting rotary snow plough. His legs ran for ten minutes, but his wind was crippled, and in the 176 LADY LUCK shifting sand he covered a space .of less than twenty feet. Exhausted with his effort, he flopped down on the sloping bank. "Dey'.s got me," he moaned, "dey's got me! I knowed it. I knowed dem graveyard ghosts would git me, once I gits divo'ced f'urri dat mascot goat. Lady Luck, here I is!" The Wildcat curled up and covered his head with his arms. He lay in repose for less than ten seconds; for suddenly, out of the fog in mid channel, came the booming siren whistle of a liner, heading out of the Golden Gate. "Whoom! Wha-om!" ,The Wildcat moaned. "I heahs you, Gabriel, I heahs you ! Heah I is, Lawd heah I is," ' ' Whooom ! We-ow-oom ! ' ' "It's me. It's ol' Wilecat. What fo' you askin' who? You knows who! Ghosts got me, Gabriel! Here I is! Lady Luck Good-bye!*' Then from Fort Miley crashed the report of the evening gun that marked retreat, and a moment later the clear notes of a bugle floated out of the fog. For a moment life on earth again claimed the Wild cat, and instinctively he responded to his army train ing. He got to his feet and stood rigidly at atten tion. Into the fog to an unseen company he yelled a series of commands. "Come to 'tenshun! Si lence in de ranks! Shut up an' stan' up! 'Ten- LADY LUCK 177 shun! Lily, come to 'tenshun! Cap'n Jack, suh, de company is fo'med." He saluted and made an about-face as perfectly as he could in the shifting sand beneath his feet. As he did so he felt his brain rattle. Ten feet above him, tangible as iron, real as gold, festooned with hair and horns, stood Lily the mascot goat. The Wildcat stood fixed for an instant looking with incredulous eyes at the mascot. Then he made an excess demand on the motor muscles of his legs, and in six wild leaps he had gained the goat's side. "Lily, is you back? Goat, hot dam! Lady Luck sho' heard me!" The Wildcat grabbed the leading string which dangled from the mascot's neck. "Come heah I aims to git me some han'- cuffs an' lock one end 'roun yo' neck an' de otheh roun' mah laig. Goat, us sho' is proud to meet up wid you ! Does you leave me once mo' nex' time I knocks yo' hawns down yo' throat." Lily evidently approved the arrangement. She looked at the Wildcat, and then from her skinny throat a faint bleat sounded. "Say dat again! You sounds noble!" "Blaaa," answered Lily. The Wildcat looked around him. His fear of the shrieking ghostly voices from the sky overhead 178 LADY LUCK had melted into the fog. No longer did the howl ing devils of mid channel disturb him. No longer did he fear the raging golf. With his mascot goat at his side, no evil luck could touch him. Courage returned, and with it extravagant language. "Lily, no doggone ghos' better git uppity wid me. I'd bus' a ol* ghos' in de haid did I ketch one." With Lily beside him, he gained the level ground of the fairway. Then, over a wide expanse of golf links, the fog had lifted clear. The Wildcat saw the two Blue Fezant Nobles poking around near the Chinese tomb in search of the ball which had been lost a little while before. "Come on heah, Lily." He dragged the mascot to the Chinese tomb, near which the Mud Turtle was halted. "Ain't you foun' 'at little white ball yit, Mud Turtle?" "Not me, Wilecat. Dat ball landed inside dis heah graveyard tomb. You don't git me in dere fo' a million dollahs. What's 'at! You foun' yo' goat!" "Boy, out o' mah way!" The Wildcat, walked toward the Chinese tomb as fast as Lily could cover the ground. "Git out o' mah way. Me an' Lily looks in dat tomb place. Us ain't scared o' no ol' ghosts no mo'." One of the Blue Fezant gentleman called to the LADY LUCK 179 Wildcat. "Son, where in hell have you been?" Something in the Potent Noble's tone made the Wildcat think of Captain Jack and the gone-away days in France. "Cap'n, suh, no place. I was jes' 'cumulatin' mah mascot goat." He entered the roofless Chinese tomb, and there on the stone floor lay the golf ball. "Cap'n, suh," he yelled, "heah's yo' freckled pill." He called less loudly to the Mud Turtle. "Otheh ball read three. Dis one heah's got de fo' spot up. 'At's seven ! Mud Turtle, you loses. 'Come in heah an* look at it." The Mud Turtle's dread of the Chinese tomb was still with him. "I 'cepts yo' word fo' it, Wilecat. Doggone you. Boy, you wins fo' times runnin'." "Boy, f'm now on I wins steady. Lady Luck done sent back mah mascot goat. I cain't lose !" He turned to his four-legged companion. "Kin us, Lily, whilst you's wid me 1 ?" "Blaaa!" answered Lily. "I should say not." CHAPTER XVII "Lead me to de woods whah de luck trees grow, Han' me de axe when it's time to chop. Lead me kinda gentle, git me started slow; When I gits to goin', watch de luck trees drop." "IT "IT THILE the Wildcat was doing his best %/% / to forget the cares that nominally in- V T fested his official day as porter on the Blue Fezant special car, sidetracked in San Fran cisco, Honey Tone Boone, the brunet uplifteh, lan guished in the Memphis jail. There were two sides to every jail. To the Wild cat, the loser in the law's game generally occupied the inside. Honey Tone was different. The inside of a jail for Honey Tone was often a place of sanc tuary from which the occupant might sneer serenely at the disappointed female perils who gnashed their teeth outside the bars. In San Francisco the days were warm, and Lily the mascot goat had returned to her master's side. The Wildcat was playing even in the matter of Haily rations. Trailing along in the wake of a 180 LADY LUCK 181 pair of the golf-playing Nobles of the Mysterious Mecca at the Lincoln Park Golf course provided a cash surplus which enabled the Wildcat to discard his winter-weight Prince Albert and to adorn his person with a retiring suit of clothes three shades lighter than a sunburned pumpkin and embellished with six-inch checks. Life wasn't so bad. OP rail road sleepin' car was probably doin' all right. Reasonably sure that tomorrow would lug in new brands of trouble to pester a boy with, the Wildcat steered his somnolent mentality clear of the shoals of surmise and let tomorrow take care of itself. A boy never could tell about Lady Luck. Every time the Wildcat did something that clearly en titled him to free board in some permanent jail, like as not next day he would wake up all festooned with gold watches. Take a preacher's advice and head down the straight and narrow path, and the chances were that some deppity sherriff with a shot gun, or else a bear, would be waiting in the path right where the heaviest canebrakes discouraged detours. "One man's pizen is anotheh man's meat,- Mah troubles neveh botheh you. Hog needs wings like a snake needs feet: De question ain't why, but who." 182 LADY LUCK Honey Tone Boone's downfall had been accom plished in Memphis immediately subsequent to a Konk'rin' Heroes' parade. There had been some talk about the ownership of the mule which Honey Tone rode. The line of march headed straight for Honey Tone's wife and his potential soul mate and culminated in a ruckus from which Honey Tone emerged, safe in the talons of a policeman. The two women, comparing notes, had gummed up the leader's grand entry to a degree which left Honey ,Tone thankful for the mule-stealing charge that had landed him safe in the jail and out of the clutches of his wife and Cuspidora Lee. He enjoyed sanc tuary in jail for two months and then, threatened with an embarrassing and abrupt .release, he con centrated on a hurried mental incubation. Hard pressed, he sought to hatch from the bad egg of cir cumstance some new enterprise which would take him away, sudden and safe, from where his mem orizing wife awaited him. His mind roamed wild through the fields of ques tionable enterprises opened to him by a combination of easy conscience and the flashy part of a "college" education. On the day of his release he half re gretted his education. Ignorance cursed the in dividual with work, but it left him free of the higher responsibilities and the more acute penalties of transgressions, and just then Honey Tone wished de- LADY LUCK 183 voutly that he was a field hand. He craved a black complexion instead of the halfway colour that barred him from the unquestioning comradeship of white and black alike. On the night of his release from jail he beat the barrier, and by morning he was well on his way to St. Louis, resolved to explore the Pacific coast for fields wherein his peculiar abilities might enable him to reap the harvest of cash without which life to him was naught. En route West, Honey Tone managed to keep one state ahead of his reputation. Thus he avoided the iron impedimenta which the laws of the land drape around the ankles and feet that stray from the straight and narrow trail around wrists and hands whose idleness affords the devil welcome opportu nity to function as a labour agent. Honey Tone's first week in Oakland found him preaching to a small congregation. On. the follow ing Sunday he announced to his flock that subscrip tions for a church building fund would be accepted, beginning forthwith. "Temp'rary an' perm'nent." The announcement followed a long prayer during which the uplifter's face wore the same holy expression as that which adorns the first stages of a sneeze. "Rev'und" Honey Tone Boone opened his eyes and tamed his vocabulary to the vernacular current among his 184 LADY LUCK hearers. "Temp'rary an* perm'nent. Weekly re- fun's on all temp'rary subscriptions, togetheh with int'res' at a hund'ed per cent. You doubles yo* Vestment, like de boy wid de ten talents." The dangling bait was presently engulfed. The subscription books were kept open through out the week. Facilities for subscribing were offered through agencies established in the pastor's quarters, in two barber shops and three pool rooms. On the following Sunday, after a service devoted largely to discussion of temporal problems which afflict the flesh here in this vale of tears, Honey Tone paid his subscribers their original contributions and added an equal sum for interest at a hund'ed per cent. The books were flooded with new subscriptions within the next fifteen minutes. The six agencies did a rushing business all during the week. On Friday Honey Tone counted his cash and decided that another week could be managed. Then exit. After the next Sunday services, owing to an eight that looked like a three, he was short five hundred dollars in the item of interest. Explanations led to retreat, and Honey Tone re treated to a hotel in San Francisco. His flight therefrom was interrupted by a delegation from a mob which visited him on the following night. He beat the delegation out of the lobby of the hotel LADY LUCK 185 because, in the emergency, his feet acted more quickly than his head. He went away from there leading his flock. Mentally he shipped his remains to his next of kin four times in the next fifty yards. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the gleam of a piece of light-coloured steel swung by a dark-coloured inves tor who craved to collect his investment, plus inter est, one way or another. Honey Tone's racing legs, impelled by an acute ambition, functioned successfully in their owner's single endeavour to lead the flying wedge of razor- bearing blood hunters by at least two jumps more than a slashin' reach. The fugitive turned into Mission Street ; and here in the long stretch the sad dle-coloured financier saw a chance to do some think ing. Galloping was his main business just then, but he carried a side line of quick thoughts. With members of his own race Honey Tone asked no greater odds in the money game than those which served from the theory that mind was superior to matter. But in this, too, time was the essence. Just then he needed time. Ten minutes were worth a million dollars and lots of other important things like health and strength and blood. Time was that without which the best laid plans died in the egg. For the next five blocks, running something less than a mile a minute, the uplifter's brain functioned i86 LADY LUCK with the cunning which enables the fragrant fox to overcome the handicap with which nature has equipped him, when the hounds begin the cross coun try obesity cure. During this time a plan had flow ered in Honey Tone's brain whereby victory might be snatched from what had looked like a total loss of all the blood that would run out of where a razor had nestled. In a shadowed area midway between two street lights Honey Tone stopped. He stopped abruptly, like a golf ball hitting the north side of Gibraltar. He bounced back, absorbing his momentum in a twisting motion which left him squarely facing the oncoming pack. Now it was, or never ! When they were upon him he raised his arms. He orated. "Hush! Git calm! Now us kin talk! Money! Cash! Rest easy!" His voice lifted one notch higher than the under tone which welled about him. The peak load of peril was confronted and passed, but still his speech ranged over the bait words most potent as* verbal sedatives. "Easy money lissen gin seven dice fancy clothes chicken an' gin fo' one an' all soo- preem members-." He discarded his college-bred dialect and adopted the vernacular of the majority about him. "Lissen heavy! Git calm. Len' me yo' ears. Men an* brethren, you knows me. Fo'gettin' de peril o' de LADY LUCK 187 tar bar'l an' de p'cessions at night wid blazin' pitch knots an' de chokin' rope whut folks uses when dey uprises, an' chosin' fo' ouah guide de lives ob de ol'- time martyrs, safe an' serene in de circle ob fate cast 'roun' mah fragile form by dis ye re rabbit's foot Ah tells you lissen !" The speaker waved his rabbit's foot. He beck oned at the loose fringe of sceptics which milled on the margin of the group. "Gether together, dat ye can hear de words ob wisdom. De prophet knowed whut he said when he perdicted dat somebody was comin' to lead his chillun f'm darkness into light. 'At's me ! Somebody. I leads you out ob darkness into de promised Ian' whah flows de milk an' honey. In passin' lemme add dat milk is f'm de ol' language used by de Sanskrits, meanin' gin. Honey f'm de ancient Check^Slowfat word 'Honito/ D'at's de word fo' chicken fried chicken, to be mo' pre- ciser. . . . Men, you is sons ob Kings f'm Africa. How come you all redoosted to de state ob slaves'? How come bird shot cain't pester a cinnamon bear? Because yo' brains and yo' brawns is all spread out, desiccated on triflin' things like cotton crops an* cawn, sweatin' undeh heavy loads 'stid of rulin' at de seat of guv'ment an' dictatin' whut's whut." The orator dragged in another lungful of mid night fog and broke into the stretch. "Heah's de answeri, graved on de gol' tablets an' dug up in de i88 LADY LUCK midnight moon wid a luck spade. Gran' oaks f'm li'l acorns grow. Heah in San F'mcisco wid de aid of you all we starts de new movement towards de Canaan land. Fust off, us o'ganizes de Temple o' Luck. Den de fust annex is de Swamick Chu'ch, based on de mystic teachin' of Swami de Indian Budda. Nex' do' in de Temple de Soopreem Faith Healer thrives an' collects money f'm folks whut only thinks dey's sick. 'Cross de hall is de Chief Palm Readin' MJagi, predictin' pas', present, an* future fo' a dollah. In de Temple Annex is de offices ob de 'Filiated Culled Union ob de worl'. ; Dis Union is mitigated into th'ee gran' divisions de Bullshevik, de P'litical, an' de Social. De Social has de Ladies' Annex." Honey Tone's eyes played steadily across his au dience, horizontally, and his voice shot straight at the ears of the assemblage, but his imagination started up, and now it made its final flight. "Dat's all I tells you, 'ceptin' my own humble efforts will be directed at organizin' a New World Af'ican Colony in de free country of Barzil. Dat's all. Fo' each an' ev'ry project us needs a Deppity Soo preem Leadeh. Dese will be 'pointed f'm amongst you. Each Deppity Soopreem Leadeh adorns his- self wid de gilt-edge robes ob de 'propriate respon sibility an' collects de cash. Deppity Collector fo' each Deppity Leadeh likewise weahs de robes whut LADY LUCK 189 de ritual describes. Ritual c'mmittee gits a per centage ob de receipts. Deppities gits one dollah fo' ev'ry three whut's took in. Any income oveh twenty dollahs a day goes to de Social an* Festive departments." The orator pulled a little book out of his pocket. "Hopin' you elects steady an' reliable frien's fo' de 'sponsible offices, us now opens de 'scription books fo' de Temple Fund, payin' int'rest a hund'ed per cent ev'y week. Pussonally, I donates a hund'ed dollars to staht de ball rollin' " Honey Tone knew his crowd. "How much, brotheh? Sign yo' name. Cash. C'tincate in green an' yaller wid de gol' seal will be conferred at de Fust Conclave ob de Soopreem Leadehs of Departments an' de Gran' Deppities. , . . Gimme dat bill ; I has change, brotheh. . . ." Late that night, escorted by a committee a little more soopreem than the body of the mob, Honey Tone walked back to his hotel room. Everything was organized to a degree which had deprived the mob of blood hunters of all of their ready cash. On his way tcr the hotel the uplif ter pondered the question of conduct affecting his immediate future. "To blow or not to blow" that was the question. He reviewed the hills and valleys of the land of promise over which his galloping vocal organs had hauled the hopes of his hearers. He decided that 190 LADY LUCK the business of making good would involve consid erable work. The work part failed to attract him. He decided to bid the committee a long farewell at the hotel, without their knowing it, but his decision suffered a veto in the persistence with which the three Soopreem Deppities stuck to their walking treasury department. In his room Honey Tone ma3e a final effort to side-step the escort. He removed his coat and hung it on a chair. "Now wid de cares whut infests de day relegated to de bosom ob de past, I lays me down an' sleeps. Brothehs, I hopes you all enjoys de boon ob ol* lady nature's sweet restorer, an' I sees you tomorr' at " "You sees us now." A heavy-set deppity grunted a verdict. "Gimme 'at quilt, an' I makes down man pallet on de flo'." Without implying anything pussonal, another of the soopreem trio laid himself down close against the door. The uplifter knew a bear trap when he saw it. He pillowed his rangy jaw on the comforting out lines of the lumpy treasure in the pocket of his vest, folded beneath his head. "Talk sure is cheap," he reflected. "Talk is cheap, but sometimes you can , trade big words for big money." A violent snore answered him, and again hope LADY LUCK 191 mounted to his heart, but presently he realized that only one of his associates was sleeping. With the sleepers changing shifts every hour or so, the long night passed. By dawn Honey Tone was resolved to give his schemes a run for their money. You never could! tell how a scheme might turn out ; and the coloniza tion business sounded pretty good, even to its over- stressed inventor. CHAPTER XVIII i. THE convention of the Nobles of the Myste rious Mecca dwindled into the final stage that attends all conventions. Golf was eliminated, and business was the order of the day. The Mud Turtle left him; and thereafter the Wild cat suffered indirectly, being threatened with a re sumption of his responsibility as porter on the special car that had brought the Chicago contingent west to San Francisco. A sense of restraint gradually killed off the wild free business of roaming the Lincoln Park golf course at so much per roam, eating heavy on the proceeds, and sleeping twelve hours a day. Arrayed in his yaller raiment, he sought the of fices of the Pullman company and got confidential with the office boy. "Fs de po'teh fo' de blue fezant boys dis heah Mysterious Mecca business. Dey tells me us leaves fo' Chicago real soon. Ah jus' been down at de deepo lookin' fo' de cah. Whah at is dat cah? Me 'an Lily aims to git it swep' out befo' de gen'men comes." The office boy took the Wildcat's message to an 192 LADY LUCK 193 inner office. Two minutes later the answer came back in the person of a gentleman who was trying to hold his temper. "You're fired! You started with your car in Chicago, left it in Wyoming, and here you are ! Git out of here before I " "Cap'n, yessuh!" The Wildcat knew a gesture when he saw it. He retreated, dragging his mascot goat a little too fast for Lily's comfort. "Goat, doggone you, whut fo' did you go A. W. O. L. an' git us bofe loose f'm dat railroad job? Heah us is wid only fo' bits, an' all yo' fault." Lily admitted the charge in a plaintive bleat which softened the harsh language which her master was bellowing at his mascot in the din of Market (Street. Presently the Wildcat forgot the acute misery of not having any hard work staring him in the face. "Us has fo' bits. 'Ats mo' money dan mos' folks has. Lily, us eats. "I don't bother work, work don't bother me. I'se fo' times as happy as a bumble bee. Us eats when us kin git it, sleeps mos' all de time " At a lunch counter on Sutter Street much fre quented by members of his race the Wildcat spread the fifty cents out over rations that made up in mass what they lacked in delicacy. Half way through the meal he slacked up enough to get talkative. The boy next to him at the lunch counter was confronted 194 LADY LUCK with enough food to hold him for a few minutes ; and it was at this more fortunate individual that the Wildcat directed his remarks. "Podneh, whah at kin a boy locate a job of work in dis yere town?" "Whah you f'm?" "Me an' mah mascot hails f'm Memphis." "How come you so fah f'm home'?" "Boy, whah at did you meet up wid so much wantin' to know*?" "Good many jail niggers loose. Thought may be" "Don't think no mo'. Dont think 'nuther word 'bout me an' Lily. I come f'm de ahmy. Two yeahs in France, an' lately I lef de Pullman railroad people whut hires sleepin' cah po'tehs. 'At's all. Ain't no jail connected wid me. All I craves is a job whut pays money." "De wages at de docks unloadin' steamboats is ten dollahs a day. Depen's on how much money you needs. Dey wants stevedores bad. Dey's a strike." "Boy, dey has me ! I'se a bad stevedo'. Whah at is dis boat-unloadin' bizness 4 ?" The boy revealed the location of the ten-dollar job. "You trails along afteh you gits to de wateh whah de big boats is. Half a mile f'm de ferry buildin' you sees a gang standin' round. Them's strikers. You goes through, an' de boss shows you LADY LUCK 195 whah to head in. Does you know de stevedo' bus iness?" "I'll say us does. Me an' de res' ob de Fust Serv ice Battalion unloaded all de boats whut landed in France durin' de wah. How come you ain't workin' yo'self at de ten-dollah job?" "I'se a 'vestor. 'Vested some cash in a new o'ganization whut was instigated heah lately. Pays big. Two fo' one ev'y week. You gives de ol' Soopreem Leadeh fifty dollahs, an' nex' week back he comes wid a hund'ed. You hoi's out some an' 'vests de res'. Nex' week you reaps agin. Pays fifty, gits a hund'ed." "Whah at is dis Soopreem man?" "Thought you tol' me you was broke. How come you lie so?" "Ain't said no lie." "You's broke, ain't you? What good does dis Soopreem man do you 'less you kin 'vest wid him? Git yo' job, an' when you has beginnin' money I meets you an' reveals whah at is de gol' mine." "Meet you heah nex' Sat'dy night. 'At's pay night, I s'poses." "You s'poses right. Ah meets you Sat' day/' "Sho' will. Podneh, whut name is you favored with? I goes by name Wilecat by rights I was baptized Vitus Marsden." The Wildcat held out the hand of brotherhood. 196 LADY LUCK "Call me Trombone when you calls confiden tial," his companion replied. "By rights I is Pike Canfield, but folks calls me Trombone eveh since me an' de name got famous. Mebbe you is heard of me. I plays de slip horn." "Sho' I is many's de time! So you is Trom bone, is you? Sho' proud to meet up wid you. Sho' 'bliged fo' de knowledge concernin' de ten- dollah job. Soon as I 'cumulates some payday me an' Lily meets you heah nex' Sat'day night. Den us 'vests wid de Soopreem Leadeh an' mebbe has a gran' ruckus wid de profits." That night the Wildcat slept free and chilly on a park bench, covered only with the blanket of fog which rolled in at midnight. Shortly after dawn, with Lily at his heels, he walked to the entrance of the pier against which lay a cargo ship loading for a famine area in Europe. "Whah at is de man whut hires de han's?" he asked. Two hours later the foreman of the dock gang was pointed out to him, and in ten minutes, with Lily tied to a barrel of nutritious pickles, the Wild cat took his place in the long line of stevedores that hustled freight out of the pier shed and into the nets under the cargo booms of the ship. "Lily tonight us eats on credit, an' sleeps inside some place whah de fog weatheh don't git." LADY LUCK 197 All the stevedore crew were members of the Wild cat's own race. Before noon he had affiliated with enough friends to make the matter of .noontime lunch a simple business of accepting part of what was offered him, while Lily did the best she could on enough assorted nutriment to feed six mascots. Considering the start he had made that morning, the Wildcat realized, with his seventh sandwich, that life isn't so bad if you manage to live through it. When he began the afternoon shift his ancient phi losophy had returned, and to trie clatter of the activ ity about him he contributed his rambling voice. Presently the words of his song recruited a few con verts from the gang about him ; and by four o'clock, with the freight moving faster than it had for many a day, the hollow spaces in the long pier were filled with the echoes that lifted from an intermittent chorus which proclaimed that "I kin load a steamboat, load it full wid freight ; I kin load a steamboat when it's leavin* late. Dat's de reason I'se as happy as a bee, I don't botheh work, an' work don't botheh me." Throughout the late hours of the afternoon the eyes of the foreman were on the Wildcat. "Hus- tlin' nigger. Make him a straw boss tomorrow if this keeps up." 198 LADY LUCK 2. Honey Tone realized that rank imposes com mensurate obligation before his Temple of Luck campaign had lived a week. Too much rank im posed too much obligation, and so the Swamic Church and the Faith Healing and the Palm Read ing Magi and several other verbal branches of his project were discarded before the several deppity soopreem leaders got too soopreem to handle. The backbone of his income was at once the Temple Fund; and this important business demanded and received all of his energy except that demanded by his elaborate pictures of the New World African Colony in Brazil. The Temple Fund, paying all investors a hundred per cent a week, was popular from the start. On the first dividend day Honey Tone made the grade with out difficulty, and nil subscriptions were repaid, to gether with a bonus of a like amount. Immediately after the ceremony of repayment was completed, the backwash of investment began to roll in, and by the evening the promoter counted more than a thou sand dollars in his hip pocket treasury. On the next day a new group of subscribers to whom the news had been retailed milled about the doors of the tem porary Temple for a chance to register and donate their investments. Honey Tone, operating in a LADY LUCK 199 rented house, herded the investors into a room where his voice could pulverize the sediment of reluctance which remained in his hearers' minds, leaving no dregs of doubt that might cloud the nectar of hope. He donned a serious looking coat, long and black, and swept a broad yellow sash across his chest. On his head rested a Manchu mandarin cap purchased in Chinatown and revised with ornament suitable for the insignia of the Soopreemest. About his waist was the equator part of a Sam Brown belt, and from it dangled a Civil War cavalry sabre whose scabbard had suffered two coats of gilt paint, not quite dry. He retained his ordinary street shoes; life was a battle, and you never could tell when the bugles of fate might blow recall. Street shoes came in handy when there was any heavy running to be done. In his uniform he addressed the herded investors. "Breth'rin, de books is closed fo' de present week. All whut paid yistiddy gits dey money back, 'long wid de same amout fo' intres' nex', Satidy mawnin'. Dem whut pays descriptions now gits de 'vestment an' de hund'ed per cent intres' de Satidy afteh nex'. De books is now open, de gol' seal c'tificates is ready. Fawm in line an' git yo' money ready. . . . Ten dollahs, brotheh. Heah's yo' papeh. Now you is a Deppity Soopreem Leadeh, 'titled to de red sash. . . . Nex' Satidy us 'lects de ten Soopreem 200 LADY LUCK Gov'nors fo' de leadin' districts in de New Worl' African Colony at Barzil. Boat leaves wid de 'ficials an' de p'visions nex' month. 'Lection is by de lucky numbehs. Soopreem 'ficials gits a house an' ten thousan' milrice dat's Barzil dollahs ev'y month to travel roun' wid an' see is de distric' doin 7 O. K. . . . Fifteen dollahs dat 'titles you to de .Yaller Sash of Trust. Chances is you sho' will be a Soopreem Gov'nor. Nex' brotheh. . . ." On the following Saturday Honey Tone managed to postpone the election of the Soopreem Governors for the ten districts of the colony and to sidestep the various vague promises that he had sown so lavishly throughout the preceding two weeks, but in the de partment of finance there was no evasion, short of flight, and in the white light that forever beat about him escape for the moment was impossible. He sensed the growing pyramid of final retribution and began to formulate plans whereby the mantle of re sponsibility might be transferred to other aspiring shoulders. The cumulative financial problem was a simple matter of geometrical progression, at the far end of which lay a solution consisting of several quarts of blood. He faced a wire-edged razor, seeking a gilt- edged dodge, and so far his brain had failed to for mulate the safe way out. His attempts at transferring the long end of the LADY LUCK 201 load to the strutting deppities who hung around the Temple of Luck met with less success. "Long as you stays Soopreem enough to wrassle wid de finan cial department, us leaves you run it. You is soo- preem now. Stay dat way." Later on Brother Livingstone approached Honey Tone and warned the leader to stay Soopreem or pay the charges on one life-size mistake. "Confidential like, Honey Tone, I tells you stay soopreem o' else tell de grave committee de facts fo' yo' tombstone." The person of the Soopreem Leader became the object of watchful care on the part of three shifts of Deppity Gardeens. Day and night there were two or three watchful waiters on the job. The fourth pay day was approaching and with it an obligation to pay out more than four thousand dollars. Receipts were falling off. On Wednes day night Honey Tone's bankroll audited less than three thousand dollars. He tried to split the pot with the Deppity Gardeens in return for liberty. In this he failed. On Thursday night, as near as he could see, all the gates were closed. He was on a one-way road. CHAPTER XIX i. "All I does is follow mah feet, 'Ceptin' when de boss says, 'Stop an* eat!' Follow mah feet de whole day through; Follow mah feet 'till I burns a shoe, Shovin' a truck load o' po'k an' beans, Loadin' de boat fo' New O'leans." BACK of his truck on the dock the Wildcat set the pace for his fellows. The man in front of him found the Wildcat forever at his heels. 'The man following had a hard time keeping up. Now and then the Wildcat's feet abandoned the steady trot for a gait which included considerable prancing, embellished with a new series of fancy steps, limited only by the inertia of the freight truck with which the stepper's ambition was re tarded. "On de down-hill drag let yo' hind legs slide ; Mawnin', Mistah Debbil, git aboa'd an' ride. Git behin' me, Satan, on de up-hill road, I'se a one-horse sinner wid a two-horse load." 202 LADY LUCK 203 Late in the afternoon the Wildcat's tactics had converted a group of admirers who had discovered in the prosaic business of rustling freight a first-class chance to make a laughing game of it. Meanwhile, they were moving record tonnage. At evening the pier foreman sent for the Wildcat. "Tomorrow morning you take a gang down to Sec tion Seventeen and start moving flour into the West King. There'll be five a day extra in it that'll buy grub for the goat." "Cap'n, yessuh you means I'se fo'man 1 ?" "That's what I mean. Keep your niggers rust- lin'." "Yass suh ! Sho' will !" The Wildcat jerked at Lily's string halter. "Goat, say you'se 'bliged to de cap'n. Stan' roun' theh, fo' I shows you who's de boss wid a club !" "Blaaa!" returned Lily. The pier foreman smiled. "You might round up some more men if you can find 'em," he continued. "We can use a lot more. I'll give you twenty dol lars a man for all you can get. Tell 'em ten a day, with grub and quarters furnished here on the dock." "Cap'n, you means I gits twenty dollars fo' ev'y stevedo' nigger whut I 'cumulates?" "That's it." "How much is a hund'ed niggers, suh 1 ?" "Two thousand dollars." 204 LADY LUCK "Cap'n, you gits 'em tomorr'. Us kin rule dat many single handed me 'suadin' an' Lily rammin'. Mebbe two hund'ed. Come on heah, goat! Le's go!" The Wildcat left the pier with visions of a mil itary formation of a million men, marching steadily toward a place where they were worth twenty dol lars apiece to him. In his dream of being king of all labour agents he failed to include the difficulties with which his pathway was beset. The stevedores' strike, gaining strength each day, now included a floating committee whose duty it was to discourage the enlistment of new labour. The Wildcat borrowed a dollar and ate supper at the lunch counter where he had met Trombone, hop ing that he might again encounter that individual. Ranged about him were ten or fifteen hearty eaters ; and to this group, at the termination of his own meal, he addressed his invitation to participate in the bus iness of loading steamships with outbound freight.. "Ten dollahs a day, boy, comf'table place fo' sleepin', an' all de grub you kin eat." His oration fell on barren ground. He left the lunch counter without having gained a single recruit. "Cm on heah, Lily. Dese city niggers sho' is triflin'. Whut us needs is fiel' han's, o' else some heavy 'suader like a hoe handle. Us aims to sleep some LADY LUCK 205 now. Mebbe tomorr' Lady Luck boons me wid men whut craves a job wid rations an' ten dollahs a day." For a while the next morning the work of loading the West King with flour lagged a little under the direction of the new foreman. At eleven o'clock, noting the epidemic of reluctance to move out of a slow drag which had afflicted his gang, the Wildcat climbed to the top of a tier of flour barrels. He took out his knife and whittled through the hoops of a barrel. He resumed his place on the pier. "Break down dat top line. Git movin' ! Haul out 'at bottom bar'l ! Stan' back when dey comes !" They came. An avalanche of rolling barrels rolled wildly across the deck of the pier. The top one on which the hoops were cut landed with a smash in the centre of an explosive spray of flour. The atmosphere was suddenly white dust. . . . Black complexions presently became grey. Perspiring freight jugglers began to laugh at their fellows. In three minutes the roof of the pier was echoing back the volleys of high-pitched laughter which lifted from below. Until noon, and then through the long afternoon, all that the Wildcat's men did was to laugh their heads off at the slightest provocation and move more freight than the ship's cargo booms could handle. 206 LADY LUCK "Ah likes biscuits an' Ah likes bread, Doan' like 'em plastered on mah head, Craves to have 'em spread around on mah inside, 'Sted of havin' dough a-drippin' off mah hide." The pier foreman, passing the Wildcat's crew late in the afternoon, paused to look the deal over. "Everything all right?" "Cap'n, yessuh. Dey's good boys. 'dined to mope some at fust, but dey got laughin* some way. Since den dey's been movin' 'long." Without knowing it, the Wildcat had mixed the essence of all the theories of efficiency into one barrel of flour. The results of the administered dose were showing on the tally boards in the freight office at the end of the long pier. The transportation sup erintendent sent for the pier foreman. "Jim, who is handling the flour into the West King?" "Young nigger called Wildcat right name is Marsden. Got him yesterday." "Keep him forever. The Empire docks tomor row for a mixed cargo for New Orleans. Sixteen thousand tons. Let this Wildcat boy handle all of it as long as he lasts." 2. On Friday morning Honey Tone groaned himself awake, realizing when his eyes were open that less LADY LUCK 207 than thirty-six hours lay between his fragile form and blood-tinted trouble. It seemed to him that his self-appointed guardians clung closer with the passage of the hours, as if they suspected their soo- preem treasury of perfecting a plot which might in clude his exit. The obligations of the moment were four thousand dollars, and in Honey Tone's bulging pocket but three-fourths of that amount awaited the pay hour which would come with Saturday night. Saturday dawned, and with it the sprout of an idea had shoved through the graveyard ground of Honey Tone's dejection. In mournful tones, hardly hoping that success would attend his latest scheme, he announced it to his guardian deppities. "Breth ren, yo' leadeh's efforts has been rewarded like de oil in de widow's croose. F'm now on us pays back de original 'scription wid a hund'ed per cent intres', an' hearkin' unto dese words oveh an' above de 'rig- inal an' de intres', a bonus equal to de 'vestment! Doan ask what de Lawd means when de blessin* showers down. Git in de rain an' git wet wid cash. Th'ee fo' one dat's whut pays!" At evening, before he took his place at the pay ta ble, he repeated the announcement. The rooms of the Temple were crowded and the flock was silent, hanging with acute interest on the Soopreemest's words. Honey Tone held up his hand. He bowed right and left, and the glittering tinsel on the man- 208 LADY LUCK darin cap reflected the colour of minted gold from the yellow lights. He held aloft the hilt of the gilded sword that swung from his yellow belt. He sheathed his sword and parked his nervous left hand in the folds of the yellow sash that draped across his chest. "Brethren ob de Temple: Sow an' reap. As you sows, you likewise reaps. De Goddess of Gold, an' de lady's husban' oF man Midas, has smiled agin upon ou' humble efforts. Tonight Ah makes a momentous announcement befo' Ah returns wid intres' de 'vestments you made las' week. Up to now de 'financial repayments has been two fo' one. F'm now on us pays twice dat much!'* He paused to let his words sink in. "Fo' eve'y dollah you 'vests you gits de dollah back, anotheh dollah fo r intres', an', as a special bonus, anotheh dollah whut makes de th'ee fo' one. Dis Special 'Vestment Depahtment is open now an' will be run wid de lef han' whilst de right, not knowin' whut de lef han' does, pays out yo' las' week's cash. Fawm in line. Ah pays an' receives at de same table. Who is de fust brotheh? Yass indeed! Heah's yo' money an' you says you craves to 'vest it in de th'ee fo' one fund. Praise de Lawd ! De los' sheep sees de light." Some there were who failed to see the light, but by strenuous persuasion Honey Tone managed to re- LADY LUCK 209 claim enough of his payments to piece out the miss ing thousand. Over and above the success he enjoyed in keeping his epidermis free from the parked razors of revenge, he pouched a few hundred dollars' surplus before the hour of payment ceased. With it, including the borrowed and juggled thousand, he had incurred an obligation to repay another staggering sum on the following Saturday night. Thankful for his escape from the crisis of the mo ment and a little bit shaken by the acute peril which had confronted him, he sat heavily at the pay table, and sagged down in his soopreem robes. He ran his eye over the pay list, and for the first time he noticed an unpaid investor. 'Tike Canneld $100.00." A knock sounded at the outer door. The outer guard clattered in. "Brotheh Canneld, an' a strange brotheh who desires to be led straight." "Tell Brotheh Canneld to enteh unto de Soop reem presence," Honey Tone returned, according to the ritual. Then, under his breath, "Dam 'at Trombone nigger. How come he so promp' at de las' minute?" CHAPTER XX i. A LITTLE late at the Sutter Street lunch counter by reason of his added responsibil ities at the dock, the Wildcat had found his friend Trombone impatiently awaiting him. "Wilecat, does us miss de meetin' Ah loses a hund'ed dollahs. Grab yo' vittles an' eat on de run!" "Whut time is you due at de Temple?" "De meetin' done stahted a houah back 'less us gits dah in fifteen minnits de do's closed." "Trombone, us has plenty ob time. Ah 'sorbs mah nutriment in five minnits 'at leaves ten fo' de trip. Ain't et me nothin' all day, 'ceptin' break- fus' an' some san'wiches at noon time. Sho' been busy loadin' de ol' Empire fo' N'Awl'uns. Dey made me de gang boss I'se got mo' niggers dan oP cunnel had in de Fust Service Battalion. Sho' is busy. Niggers craves to mope ah un-craves 'em like de Lootenant used to gits 'em all laffin' so ha'd dey forgits de wuk. Fo' long dey ain't no mo' w'uk, an' eve'ybody feels noble. Dat's all de talk 2IO LADY LUCK 211 heah's mah ham, sizzlin' in de gravy. . . . Stan' up heah, Lily; eat dese lettuce greens." The Wildcat did an hour's eating in three minutes. "Whuf oP rations sho' tastes noble. Whah at's yo' soopreem oP leadeh whut pays out de money? Ah craves to 'vest some mahse'f. Tonight I has money. Las' week me an' Lily was bust. Le's go!" Ten minutes later Trombone and the Wildcat, leading Lily, were at the outer door of the Temple of Luck. There followed the ritual business of three knocks and the ceremony of admittance. 2. Honey Tone saw the Wildcat one second before that individual saw the Soopreem paymaster. One second was enough for Honey Tone. In his brain was born a scheme whereby the heavy mantle of leadership, including the ponderous pyramid of financial obligations, might be shifted to the Wild cat's shoulders. He got up from his throne at the paytable and plowed his way toward the Wildcat. He held out the hand of fellowship. "Wilecat, how is you? How is de Worshupful Potentate f'm de distant Ian' ?" "Honey Tone ! Honey Tone Boone ! How come you heah?" 212 LADY LUCK Honey Tone took the Wildcat by the arm. "Brothehs, in de humble yaller raiment of a plain nigger de long-looked-fo' Barzil Leadeh has come to 'scort you all to de promis' Ian'." He half dragged the Wildcat to a little room opening off the larger hall, and thereafter for five minutes Honey Tone used some private eloquence on his old-time acquaintance. The Soopreem Leader took pains to omit the detail covering the four-thou sand-dollar obligation that went with the job. Fi nally the Wildcat weakened. "Sho' sounds noble, Honey Tone. Tell me de res'." "You is de head boss ob de New Worl' Af'ican Colony, an' weahs de robes," Honey Tone concluded. "You is Temp'rary Soopreem Leadeh ob de Temple whilst I 'tends to some private business a sho't ways out ob town. When de Barzil Colony is runnin' you gits de job ob Soopreem King. All you does now is keep yo' mouth shut an' look soopreem. Dis steamboatin' you says you is 'gaged in comes in handy. You tells de membehs at de propeh time dat you is loadin' de boat fo' de Barzil Colony." Honey Tone left his convert and prepared the way for the transition with the assembled audience. Half way through his discourse he was in terrupted by Trombone Pike, who craved to get his hundred dollars before the flight of Honey Tone's imagination lifted the soopreem one above paltry LADY LUCK 213 things like financial obligations. Honey Tone paid him with three quick movements a dig for the roll, an outstretching of a handful of cash, and the grip of eternal brotherhood. " 'At's dat. Dah you is." Meanwhile the Wildcat's languid brain had stum bled over an idea as big as a church. "Ah leads de brethren to de dock an' gits twenty dollahs fo' every man!" When Honey Tone returned, the Wildcat eagerly succumbed to the role imposed on him. "Sho' kin, Honey Tone. Sho' glad to be Temp'rary Soopreem Leadeh. Ah learns dese breth ren de steamboat bizness. Sho' glad to show 'em all I knows an' git 'em stahted." "Wait heah -till I 'suades 'em to let you handle everything." Honey Tone left the Wildcat alone for the second time and made a further announce ment to the brethren. "De Wo'shipful Temp'rary Soopreem Leadeh suggests, wid de high knowledge he has fo' suggesting dat if he has de treasury depart ment in his han's de payments on 'vestments will increase up to fo' to one. Dat alone shows you whut a big man he is. Nex' week he pays you all yo' 'vestments, intres' at a hund'ed per cent, a bonus ob de same amount, an' a special dividend equal to one an' all. Ah hereby 'spectfully resigns de robes ob office, an' names a 'nishiation c'mmittee ob twelve brothehs to 'dorn de new Soopreem Temp' rary Leadeh wid de raiment of his rank." 214 LADY LUCK Honey Tone returned to the Wildcat. "You's been 'lected unan'mous. De 'nitiation cer'monies is ready. You gits de Gran' Degree right away. Heah's de treasury. Ain't no bills due yet. Don't owe nuthinV Honey Tone split his roll, being burdened with the rudiments of the principle of safety first. He shoved the money at the Wildcat and hurried the candidate to the door before the victim had a chance to count the cash. There followed an impromptu initiation cer emony, interrupted but once by Lily's bleating, after which the Wildcat realized that he was the head of something that he knew mighty little about. He looked around for Honey Tone, seeking the moral support that might derive from the presence of his old friend and enemy. Honey Tone had explained himself loose from his guards. Honey Tone was gone. The Wildcat fumbled around with some over sized words, and then the real object of his speech came to him. "Dese niggers means twenty dollahs apiece on de dock." He launched into a wild description of the New World African Colony. He pictured a life of ease in which each charter member of the colony who believed in heaven would be reluctant to trade heaven for a stevedore's career. He added the time phrase which was the essence of LADY LUCK 215 the whole affair. "You meets me heah tomorr' mawnin' at six o'clock. Ah leads you to de boat whah you sees how fas' kin' you git de freight aboa'd. So as yo' gits de wages yo' labour is worthy ob, like de Bible says, I 'ranges dat ev'y man gits ten dollahs a day an' grub." Before the light of dawn began- to chase the San Francisco fogs up the bay the charter members of the New World African Colony began to assemble at the gates of the Temple. When the Wildcat appeared at six o'clock he was greeted by more than two hundred worthy brethren, all of whom craved to learn the boat-loading business at ten dollars a day. He marched his gang to the Embarcadero, yelling orders in a manner that made some of the veterans of the A. E. F. homesick. "Silence in de ranks!" The clamour subsided. "When Ah columns you lef, head fo' de big buildin' !" The big building was the entrance to the pier against which, eating charter money faster than the banks could loan it and hungry for her six teen thousand tons of mixed freight, lay the Empire. At half past seven the Wildcat reported to the pier foreman at the office in the end of the long building. "Cap'n, suh, heah's more'n two hund'ed 216 LADY LUCK twenty-dollah niggers. How much does dat come to, suh?" The pier foreman ran his eye over the crowd without answering. He disappeared into the office, where he spoke quickly to his clerk. "Cut all the labour-grabbers off the payroll. Call 'em in. Here's more men than I've seen in a year." Outside there began the brief business of distrib uting the new supply of much-needed labour. This accomplished, the Wildcat came in for his share of attention. "We can use another gang like this. Can you get 'em by tomorrow 4 ?" "Cap'n, suh, Ah gits fo' times dis many does you crave 'em. When does Ah git de money?" Fifteen minutes later the Wildcat received a piece of blue paper. "Cap'n, suh, Ah cain't read whut de papeh says. Kin you read fo' me, please, sun*?" "That's a check for four thousand and eighty dollars two hundred and four men at twenty a throw." "Lawd gawd, Lady Luck, you sho' showered down dis time!" The Wildcat's brain could sur round the eighty-dollar part, but the four-thousand end was something not yet real. He stowed the check in his pocket with the fragment of the treas ury roll of the Temple of Luck. On Saturday, unable to restrain his anxiety to see what so much money looked like, he persuaded LADY LUCK 217 the pier foreman to send the clerk to the bank to get the check cashed. The cash was handed to the Wildcat. He stowed it away in various pockets of the yaller suit. "OP money sticks out like a stole chicken. Neveh did see so much money." That night, under the stress of prosperity, the Wildcat quit an hour early. He drifted to the Temple of Luck, intending to sit easy and smoke a cigar and talk big talk to the evening assembly of brethren. Two or three of Honey Tone's former guardians were busy loafing at the Temple when the Wildcat arrived. After a period of silence, fol lowing the salutations appropriate for the Soopreem Leader, a deppity led up to the matter of meeting the financial obligations which fell due that even ing. "Ah nggehs, Soopreem, dat dey's somethin' like fo' thousan' dollahs to be paid out tonight. Sho' is a lot o' money." The Wildcat was interested. "Fo' thousan'? Whah at is de money comin' fin*?" Five anxious brethren sat up. It was all right for the Soopreem Leadeh to enjoy himself on what ever subject pleased him, as long as there were no personal dollar signs attached to the subject. "You knows whah it comes fm. You's jokin', Soopreem ! Go 'long wid yo' talk. 'Scuse me fo' speakin' so familiah, but de money question sho' is in de fust rank. Specially since you pays fo' to one. 218 LADY LUCK De Pas' Soopreem Leadeh strained hisse'f to pay th'ee fo' one." In the course of the next five minutes the Wild cat's eyes were opened concerning the generous ease with which Honey Tone had relinquished what ap peared to be a position of prominence second to none for social and political status. He sought to make his escape, only to discover the same restraint which had defeated Honey Tone's plans of flight. : "Come easy go easy." The Wildcat surren dered to the clutch of circumstance. He felt the di minishing weight of the four thousand dollars. "Ah kep' it a week dat's longeh den Ah eveh had such big money befo' ! Now Ah has to buy mahse'f free wid it, 'stead ob usin' it fo' rations an' sech. Dog gone ! Whah at is Lady Luck?" The hour for the meeting came. The Wildcat adorned himself with his soopreem robes. He cut a long end from the yaller sash and tied it around the mascot's stomach. "Heah, goat, doggone you. Git ca'm. Stan' still till Ah adorns yo' wid de soo preem belly band. See kin you make Lady Luck heah you. Dat woman sho' fo'got mah name." "Blaaa!" Festooned with the yellow sash, Lily did the best she could to make Lady Luck respond, but Lady Luck was deaf. ' Lady Luck was A. W. O. L. Thereafter for an LADY LUCK 219 hour the Wildcat sat at the Soopreem table, watch ing his stack of greenbacks melt out before him on four-to-one obligations incurred by the absent Honey Tone. For a while, with every disappearing dollar, the Wildcat mentally showered the absent Honey Tone with epithets picked up during overstressed moments of an active life. Then to the Temp'rary Soopreem Leader's mind there came a faint resolve to try the ultimate arrow of his pack in an effort to reclaim his melting money. "De clickers !" At the conclusion of his misery he made an an nouncement covering the programme of an attempt to defeat the evil which had run him down. He stood up on the chair where he had been sit ting. "Brethren, befo' us gits too deep into de ev- enin' us devotes a social hour to Lady Luck. Count off into squads, dig deep in yo' raiment fo' ammu nition an' de clickin' weapons, den for'd march into de battle whah de top sides means vick'ry o' else de grave-diggin' squad ! Af teh de squad leadehs de cides who is de bes' man, as yo' Soopreem Leadeh I claims de priv'lege o' meetin' de victors on de clickin' nel' of battle. Dat's all. Git faded an' shoot fas'." A battle royal. Thereafter for half an hour the air was thick with prayer. Presently most of the 220 LADY LUCK four thousand had been prayed into the hands of half a dozen squad leaders. Then the Wildcat spoke. "Winners! Lady Luck sho' smiled down on you. Now your Soo- preem Leadeh makes 'at woman laff at you. Stan' by me, Lily !" The mascot goat bleated her message of encour agement. Spectators rallied around. Out of his left shoe the Wildcat hauled his personal weapons. On the floor before him he cast the last fragment of his four-thousand-dollar roll. In the narrow circle of victors exploded his point-blank challenge. "Shoots a hund'ed! Shower down. Ah craves action : "You neveh kin tell till de gallopers stop Whut de numbehs reads dat lays on top. Comin' out a top side seven or 'leven Is Wilecat talk fo' a payday heaven. Seven's a winner when it shows up fust, But afteh yo' point a seven means bust. Comin' out fust wid a dooce, twelve, o' trey Is jes' like throwin' yo' money away, 'Cept you keeps de dice an' stahts once mo* By layin' yo' money on de gam'lin' flo'. Suppose you releases a fo', six, eight, You tries yo' bes' to duplicate. De same hoi's true fo' a five, nine, ten, But a seven's boun' to git you now an' then. As I said befo' does a seven come fust Befo' you makes yo' point, it means you's bust. LADY LUCK 221 In fifteen minutes six ex- victors had joined the circle of innocent bystanders and were hunting for phrases to explain to themselves just how it hap pened. The Wildcat, stowing away the incoming money with his left hand, swept his victorious right high above his head. In his moist palm nestled his pussonal dice. "I lets it lay. Shoots it all !" "Ain't got dat much." The last man was suf fering from reduced circumstances. "How much is you? Shoots de fifty! Fse faded. Gallopers, stan' by me! Stay soopreem. Bam! An' I reads, six-ace. Deppity you's done!" The Wildcat, perspiring copiously in his official robes of supremacy, got to his feet. He parked the gallopers in his inside pocket. He reached for Lily's leading string. "Brethren me an' Lily stahte3 soopreem when we come heah. Dat's de way we finishes. I bids you good night !" 4- With Lily at his heels, the favourite of Lady Luck made his way into the midnight fog which lay above the city. He walked to Market Street, and at the ferry building he headed down the Embarcadero toward the pier where the Empire was loading. In the deep shadows cast by a post in the long pier he 222 LADY LUCK removed his trailing robe. He rolled his insignia under his arm. Under the arc lights along the pier the men of the night shift were rustling the last of the freight to the Empire's side. With Lily at his heels, the Wildcat went aboard the ship. The officer on watch recognized him. "What you doin' out so late, boy? Thought you run the day shift?" "Cap'n, yessuh, I does. Me an' Lily was pro- jectin' roun' some. Us ain't got no place to go." The Wildcat lingered on this last statement. "No place to go." Then he summoned courage enough to voice a request which expressed a longing that had developed since he had first known the Empire's destination. "Cap'n, suh," he said slowly, "kin me an' Lily ride wid you to New Awl'uns? Us craves to git south." "I'll say you can. We need about nine good waiters for the trip." "Cap'n, suh, dat's me! When us starts I'se de same as nine." "You're hired. Sign on tomorrow." In his eagerness the Wildcat jerked heavily at Lily's leading string. "Come on heah, goat, le's git down in de oP boat's cellar whah de kitchen is an' git to work. Say you's 'bliged to de cap'n." "Blaaa!" Lily voiced her gratitude. LADY LUCK 223 On the third deck down, the Wildcat tied Lily to a stanchion. He threw his official costume on the deck in front of the mascot goat. "See kin you eat dis soopreem raiment. Us is done bein' soopreem. Hot dam! New Awl'uns boun' ! Den Memphis dat's home !" The Wildcat felt the thick packages of bank notes in the inside pockets of his yaller suit. "Sho' big money. Money dis time Stan' by me.'* "I kin ride a steamboat I don* pay no fare, I kin ride a steamboat anywhere. Dat's de reason I'se as bappy as a bee, Me an' Lily's Memphis boun' Memphis, Ten-o-see." "The Books You Like to Read at the Price You Like to Pay" There Are Two Sides to Everything including the wrapper which covers every Grosset & Dunlap book. When you feel in the mood for a good ro mance, refer to the carefully selected list of modern fiction comprising most of the successes by prominent writers of the day which is printed on the back of every Grosset & Dunlap book wrapper. You will find more than five hundred titles to choose from books for every mood and every taste and every pocket- book. Don't forget the other side, but in case the wrapper is lost, write to the -publishers for a complete catalog. There is a Grosset & Dunlap Book for every mood and for every taste DATE DUE HAT iM PRINTED IN U S A. 3 1970 00493 0175 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY F AC L TY 111 ! " A A 000306991 1