iff read it.

"Thousand dollars, hey? Looks to me like that nigger deserves the
reward." The Sheriff was honest. "Fetch him in here."

The Wildcat was hazed into the Sheriff's presence.

"The railroad is paying a thousand dollars reward for roundin' up them
two men. Maybe they'd got loose if you hadn't nailed that one in the
head. I'll give you a letter to the Portland office and you can go down
there and get your money."

"Cap'n, yessuh. Hot dam! Fish always was lucky with me."

Mr. Skooglund augmented the reward with a personal offer.

"Any time you wanting a salmon fisk I give you one free."

"Cap'n, suh, I sho' is much obliged, but if I neveh see a fish again,
dat's twice too soon fo' me."

CHAPTER XI

The Wildcat felt noble. Against yesterday's clouds tomorrow's skies lay
blue. The Sheriff's office at The Dalles was a comfortable place
wherein to wait for the thousand-dollar reward which Lady Luck had
showered down on her prodigal protege.

Half asleep, the Wildcat mumbled to a buzzing fly. "'At's it. Tryin' to
bust yo' brains out on de window glass. 'At's how come you ain't got
none. Cravin' to git loose all de time. S'pose you git loose? Whah at
would you go? Some ol' spidah'd git you de fust mile. Ca'm yo'se'f.
Heah you is in de sunshine an' all warmed up. You jess like
folks--neveh knows when you's lucky."

The Wildcat's soliloquy was interrupted by a verbal volley from the
Sheriff. "Here's your letter. Take it down to the railroad office in
Portland; they'll pay you the thousand-dollar reward for helping
capture that pair of train robbers."

"Cap'n, yessuh. Neveh seed so much money. Sho' come easy."

"Come easy, go easy. I suppose you'll load yourself up on square-face
gin and get rolled the first night you're in town."

"No, suh, not me! I aims to 'vest mah money in de fried smelt business.
Right now I's a Pullman porter. In Poteland mebbe I sees kin I buy
myself free. Anyway, I starts me a smelt fish business. River's full ob
ol' smelt fish. I ketches me a wagon load. I builds me a fire in mah
fish wagon, an' when de fish is fried I sells 'em two bits a pan to de
Poteland niggers. Neveh seed a nigger 'at wouldn't trade two bits fo' a
belly full o' fish."

"Good-bye. Good luck with your smelt fish enterprise." The Sheriff
terminated the interview.

The Wildcat stowed his thousand-dollar-reward letter in the inside
pocket of the parade-leading Prince Albert which had seen temporary