pted by a rumbling voice which emanated
from a chesty policeman who was engaged in dishing out a little earnest
advice to the proprietor of the hotel. The officer raised his voice for
the benefit of the brunet assemblage.

"Trouble is trouble. If yez have business on th' street, attind to ut,
but save th' loafin' f'r another day. Wid all thim I.W.W. bugs, this
nigrah parade tonight is apt to flash into a race riot. If it does, th'
chief ain't goin' to stan' no foolin'. The guns'll begin barkin' worse
than a Chinee New Year. Don't look for no trouble an' you won't find
it. You boys ain't much in favour in this town right now, an' wan false
move in tonight's parade might make a stampede out of it, wid all th'
dark complexions in town three jumps ahead of some red-hot buckshot."

The Wildcat shrivelled up in his chair. The policeman's warning made
him homesick. He resolved to stick close to the home plate. "Ah don't
crave no paradin' roun' whah at white folks is. Dese uppity yaller
niggahs sho' heads fo' trouble when dey starts speakin' white folks'
talk. Wish't ol' Cap'n Jack was here. He'd sho' learn 'em, did dey
start sumpin'. Like as not ol' Cap'n Jack tear down a lamp post an'
beat de parade ovah de head wid it. Parades is all right fo'
crematizin' ceremonies. All right fo' de Ahmy boys. All right fo'
funerals an' lodges. Outside o' dat dey's dangerous. Me, Ah sees kin I
sleep me some mo'."

His slumbers were again interrupted by the entrance of the porter whose
acquaintance he had made en route from The Dalles to Portland.

"Boy, howdy."

The Wildcat sat up and blinked a pair of heavy lids over his bulging
eyes. "Doggone if it ain't mah ol' fish podneh. Sho's glad to meet up
wid you. How is you?"

"Tol'able, 'ceptin' I's rushed. Us got to work dis fish business fast.
I don't git me no lay-over. Ol' Pullman boy's done switched me to de
midnight run fo' San F'mcisco on de train what leaves at one o'clock in
de mawnin'. Dat's why I ain't change' my unifawm. How is you? Did de
man give you de money fo' de train robbeh letter?"

The Wildcat's face, which had lightened in greeting his partner in the
smelt fish business, was suddenly overspread with a mask of melancholy.
"Easy come, easy go. I's busted."

"How come you bust now, when dis mawnin' yo' back was broke wid a
thousand-dollah letter?"

"Met up wid a Spindlin' boy what hit me wid some C.O.D. dice. Cleaned
me."

"Sho' ha'd luck. You sho' got action. Nev