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, ol' 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."
"How 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 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'?"
"'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."
"Ol' 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 Wildcat 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 Fezant gen'men
out heah. Kin you tell me whah at Lily mah mascot goat is?"
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 information. "You mean the
white goat? He's out with Jim and Frank on the golf links."
The first Potent Noble turned toward the Wildcat. "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 Wildcat signed quite a
contract. "Cap'n, yessuh. Whatever you wants, us does. How come dis
caddy business?"
"You carry the bag around while we go golf hunting."
The Wildcat spoke lowly to the Mud Turtle. "Golf hunting? What's dis
heah golfs? Neveh seed one pussonally."
"Boy, don't you know what golfs is? Sumpin' like a dog, only smaller.
Born 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 plow. Dis country was 'fested wid
golfs till de Indians got heah."
"'Fested 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 clubs. 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 automobile which was
retrieved from Powell Street. On the way to the Lincoln Park golf
course the party detoured through Golden Gate Park. The car drove 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 became 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 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?"
"How come, Wilecat? You knows us cain't monkey wid dis huntin' game."
"I don't mean monkey wid de huntin'," the Wildcat 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 dominoes. 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 presently 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."
"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 rock oveh dah, widout no roof an' de rock wall?"
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 layin' 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!
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 ball. He
jumbled 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. "This place was a graveyard!" The
Wildcat shuddered extensively and abandoned the search for the golf
ball.
He looked up, and there before him was a tombstone!
"Lawd Gawd, Lady Luck, whah is you?" Automatically 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 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'um 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 Wildcat, and
instinctively he responded to his army training. He got to his feet and
stood rigidly at attention. Into the fog to an unseen company he yelled
a series of commands. "Come to 'tenshun! Silence in de ranks! Shut up
an' stan' up! 'Tenshun! 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 had melted into the fog. No longer did the
howling 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 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?"
"Blaaa!" answered Lily. "I should say not."