Thereafter, for a s.p.a.ce of minutes the ma.s.sacre proceeded with systematic fury. It ended only when the policeman unlimbered a wicked sap and forcibly dragged the battling brunettes from their crumpled victim.

"Git to h.e.l.l away from that n.i.g.g.e.r," the officer yelled at the two women. With the a.s.sistance of a hearty boost from the policeman, the Supreme Organizer 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 n.o.ble."

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

"Memphis, let me miss you! Feet, see kin you trod de good-bye jazz!

Lily, 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 raiment slipped. Her hobbles tripped her. The galloping Wildcat felt an added drag on the leading string. He glanced backward in his flight.

"Goat, how come you lose the cadence? Doggone you, see kin you skid till you gits in step."

Lily bought the next fifty yards with an expenditure of some epidermis and two ounces of goat hair.

She regained her feet, staggering under a ponderous ambition for revenge. Forty feet from the Calhoun Street curb she took careful aim at the Wildcat and stepped on the accelerator. The Wildcat coasted into Calhoun Street with his parade-leading Prince Albert flapping straight out behind him. He 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 goat 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 ramble. 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 colour. "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 tonight. 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 ambition flopped.

His sole desire for the moment was for a high-grade segment of camouflage or the sanctuary 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.

"C'm 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.

"n.o.body but us boys neveh comes heah. Ah'll pa.s.s 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, followin' Honey Tone Boone on de mule."

"Us changed since den, Backslid. Ol' 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 mebbe he uprises agin' me."

"C'm 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.

"You knows Ah kain't read, Backslid. What 'at paper say?"