Lady Luck Part 30

'Cross de hall is de Chief Palm Readin' Magi, 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 audience, horizontally, and his voice shot straight at the ears of the a.s.semblage, 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 Soopreem Leadeh. Dese will be 'pointed f'm amongst you. Each Deppity Soopreem Leadeh adorns hisself wid de gilt-edge robes ob de 'propriate responsibility an' collects de cash. Deppity Collector fo' each Deppity Leadeh likewise weahs de robes whut de ritual describes. Ritual c'mmittee gits a percentage 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'tificate 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 to the hotel the uplifter 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 the business of making good would involve considerable 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 made 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 mah 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 outlines 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 mounted to his heart, but presently he realized that only one of his a.s.sociates was sleeping.

With the sleepers changing s.h.i.+fts every hour or so, the long night pa.s.sed.

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 colonization business sounded pretty good, even to its overstressed inventor.

CHAPTER XVIII

1.

The convention of the n.o.bles of the Mysterious 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 Wildcat suffered indirectly, being threatened with a resumption 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 offices of the Pullman company and got confidential with the office boy. "I's 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 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 b.u.mble bee.

Us eats when us kin git it, sleeps mos' all de time--"

At a lunch counter on Sutter Street much frequented by members of his race the Wildcat spread the fifty cents out over rations that made up in ma.s.s 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 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 n.i.g.g.e.rs loose. Thought maybe--"

"Don't think no mo'. Don't 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?"

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 whah to head in. Does you know de stevedo' business?"

"I'll say us does. Me an' de res' ob de Fust Service 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 hol'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.