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 laying 'round."
In the dawn the Wildcat realized that his appetite had sprung up like a
mushroom over night.
"Wisht us wuz back wid ol' 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
Avenue traffic cop abandoned his post long enough to pounce upon his
prey.
"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 unfriendly looking police station. They faced the desk sergeant.
"Boy, is your name Vitus Marsden?"
"Cap'n, yessuh. Folks gin'ally calls me Wilecat."
The desk sergeant busied himself with the telephone 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 surmise 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.
"Cap'n suh, whut fo' is me an' Lily sequestered heah in de 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 Company. 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?"