"Don' look dat way. You's got de graveyard eye. You took too much hoof oil," he said weakly. "Lemme put 'at blanket 'roun' you." He took one step towards the centre of the compartment, and on the instant the Mud Turtle leaped at him.

The Wildcat had been in many a ruckus abroad and at home, but home was never like this, and the worst he saw in France was a busy time at Chateau Thierry. This was different trouble and worse. The Wildcat abandoned his tactics of fair fighting. He kicked and struck wildly at the Mud Turtle without effect. He despaired of conquering the tornado which writhed on the floor beside him. Then he succeeded in obtaining the blanket in which the Mud Turtle had been wrapped. He manoeuvered for three seconds and threw a hitch around the Mud Turtle's neck and another one around his leg. An instant later the whirlwind was trussed up and confined with a hard square knot.

The Mud Turtle's yells gave place to a series of snarling grunts, punctuated now and then with the yowling scream invented some years back by the female panther. The Wildcat secured a folded towel from the rack above his head, and in a moment the panther was m.u.f.fled. The victor stood panting for a little while, gazing at the conquest which still writhed and rolled on the floor.

The Wildcat reached for the empty bottle and inspected five or six drops of liquid which remained in it. "Hoof oil, you sho' is double dynamite. Rabbi juice, I saves you. Mebbe sometime I meets up wid a army whut starts a ruckus wid me. Den I'll 'sorb two drops an' win de battle."

He replaced the cork in the bottle and stowed it carefully in his pocket. "Does I need to I figger dat wid fo' drops ob dis hoof oil I kin conquer de worl'."

He turned again to the Mud Turtle. The Pullman blanket lashed around the Mud Turtle cramped his style to a considerable degree, but for all of his impedimenta he was still active enough to threaten the peace-on-earth theory. The Wildcat spoke to him, "Boy, I sequesters you till de debbil leaves you. Mebbe by de time us gits to San F'mcisco you'll be human again."

He stepped into the pa.s.sage way, and at the end of the open section of the car he opened the door of the linen closet. He returned to the smoking room and dragged the Mud Turtle out of the room wherein the ruckus had been staged. At the door of the linen closet the Wildcat encountered a difficult problem, in that the least dimension of the Mud Turtle in his present pose was greater than the width of the door.

He grabbed the door framing with both hands and applied his right foot to the Mud Turtle's anatomy. "Whuf! Git in dere!" He strained hard at his task, and presently a heroic effort was rewarded by the disappearance of the Mud Turtle into the dark interior of the linen closet. The Wildcat stooped down and removed the towel from about the Mud Turtle's mouth. "Yell yo' head off, ol' debbil. You kain't soun'

loud in heah. Folks'll think de ol' engine is whistlin'."

Before the Wildcat shut the door the Mud Turtle took advantage of his vocal freedom and emitted a strenuous howl. A middle-aged gentleman half way down the car stuck his head through the berth curtains. He called to the Wildcat. "Is she whistlin' for Ashland?"

"No suh. 'Spec' it was a cow on de track or sumpin'. 'At's all. I wakes you up neah Ashlan'." The Wildcat neglected to say which side of Ashland would be selected for the awakening ceremonies.

He walked to the far end of the car, and on his return journey he acc.u.mulated the shoes of his pa.s.sengers.

"I shines me dese heah shoes an' den I sees kin I sleep me some. I bet was ol' Mud Turtle a aig, chances is he'd hatch out in dat linen closet--so hot."

In the smoking compartment the Wildcat spent an hour shining shoes. He distributed them with more or less accuracy, and presently he was stretched out sound asleep on the long leather seat.

"I eats when I kin git it, I sleeps mos' all de time.

I don't give a doggone If the sun don't neveh shine."

CHAPTER XV

The Wildcat slept until the first grey light of dawn announced the day.

He got up and stretched himself and drank five or six slugs of free ice water. "Lemme see," he yawned, "whah at is us." His mind covered the events of his immediate past and collided heavily with the battle which had been fought in the night. "Wondeh how ol' Mud Turtle is? I betteh git him fo' de pa.s.sengers gets up. Wid all dat hoof oil in 'im, 'spec'

he'll crave mo' wateh dan a mule."

He opened the door of the linen closet. In the far corner, propped against the wall, sat the Mud Turtle. The dazed expression on his face was completely surrounded by brunet skin and surmounted by a pair of owl-like eyes which blinked at the sudden light.

The Wildcat whispered at him, "Is you pacified? Dast I leave you loose?"

The Mud Turtle replied with a question, "Was many folks hurt in de wreck?"

"Ain't been no wreck, 'ceptin' you like to wrecked me. Come out heah till I helps you 'membeh yo' sinful past."

He hauled the Mud Turtle into the pa.s.sage way and resurrected him from the interior of the blanket coc.o.o.n.

"Come on back heah," the Wildcat directed. "Stretch yo' laigs an' come on back heah whilst I 'splains about you. Take 'at ol' coat off an' put on dis white coat."

The Mud Turtle removed his mud-caked blue coat and donned a crisp white jacket. For a while he sat quiet on the leather seat of the smoking car. Finally he turned to the Wildcat.

"All I 'members is takin' one drink."

"All I 'members pusson'ly is what you did after you took 'at one drink.

Thought you said you could handle yo' licker. I neveh seed such a wild man. Boy, you started single, but when you an' 'at drink got confidential you sho' was a' army. Handle yo' licker! Huh! You couldn'

handle de bottle, let alone what was in it. How come you lie such a big lie? Start out gentle nex' time."

"Must a bin some new kin' o' licker."

"Sho' acted new. Wid one drink like dat in me when I was fightin' in France, de ole guv'ment wouldn't need no mo' soldiers. I seed de night ob de big wind what blowed New Awl'uns clean up de Mississippi River. I know'd a mule what couldn't live in de mountains 'count o' kickin' 'em over, but las' night when you was goin' good, I says, 'If a mule married a cyclone an' had a boy, he'd be you.' 'Hoof oil,' dey calls it. 'At n.i.g.g.ah what chefs in de dinin' car an rabbis when he lays over in Oaklan' give it to me."

The Mud Turtle looked at the broken window beside him. "Did I bus' 'at window?"

"Bust 'at window--you sho' did. All you did was blow yo' breaf at it. I tell you you was bad. I's seed folks what was plastered wid luck. You thinks you's plastered wid mud, but it ain't mud; it's real ol' luck.

You had all de luck in de worl' gettin' out ob de claws ob that rabbi juice. Dat stuff is tiger blood. You had enough wild time las' night to last you all de res' ob your life does you live fo' evah."

"Wilecat, you sounds right. When us gits to Oaklan' I craves to settle down. Mebbe I shows you a business I aims to 'vest in."

"You don't show me no business, boy. Only business I craves is to find Lily and Lady Luck. Lily's ramblin' loose somewhere in San F'mcisco wid dem Blue Fezant boys. Does I meet up wid dat goat I'll sho' bust him in de haid fo' leavin' me. Every time me an' Lily gits a divo'ce ol' man Hard Luck camps on my trail. Business sounds good, but me, I 'c.u.mulates Lily an' den I takes dem Blue Fezant boys back to Chicago. Mebbe 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'

n.i.g.g.ah 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 n.i.g.g.ahs 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--n.i.g.g.ahs 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 wid fish--part bad luck an' part good luck. Here's de ocean an' here's San F'mcis...o...b..y 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? Dey sho' is big money in dat."

"n.o.body 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?' 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 ol'

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 h.e.l.l. 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'