ildcat toward the
ramshackle hotel below Burnside Street.

In the cold night a summary of the day's misfortunes settled heavily on
the marching pair. "Sho' turned out rough," the Mud Turtle remarked.

The Wildcat sought a smile in the frown which had gathered on Lady
Luck's features.

"Sho' might been worse. S'posin' you'd been drowned in de riveh.
S'posin' dat policeman had took me to jail. S'posin' I'd a had two
thousan' dollars 'stid o' one when 'at boy cleaned me. Naw, suh! Us is
half lucky. Wish't I could meet up wid 'at boy now an' give him a ride
wid a pair o' taper bones like de Backslid Baptis' used to make."

The Mud Turtle looked sideways at the Wildcat. "Boy, you an' me is
podnehs. Confidential, I tells you does you crave taper bones I has me
a pair."

"Is you? Lemme see, Mud Turtle, lemme see!"

The porter fished around in an inside pocket of his soggy uniform and
produced a pair of green dice.

"Heah dey is. I dassn't use 'em. Ain't learned de thumb twist yit, an'
dey sho' means trouble is you ketched workin' 'em."

"Gimme dem bones, boy. I craves trouble wid dat Spindlin' niggah what
cleaned me. Gimme ten dollahs. Pray to Lady Luck to have dat boy
waitin' at de hotel. By rights 'at's my money. Does I meet up wid dat
boy I sho' cleans him rough!"

The Mud Turtle handed the dice and ten-dollar bill to the Wildcat.
"Lady Luck don't have to do nuthin'. That boy nevah is anywhere else
'cept at de hotel. Does you start sumpin' finish quick! It's midnight
now, an' 'at San F'mcisco train pulls out at one o'clock."

The Wildcat paid no heed to his companion's words. He was engaged in
twisting the dice in the nervous fingers of his right hand.

"Dey feels right! Dey sho' feels right! Boy, de thumb twist come to me
befo' I was nine yeahs old. When I was fo'teen mah uncle Gabe learnt me
neveh to dooce, trey, or twelve. Wid dese bones an' yo' ten-dollah
bill, when I gits th'oo wid 'at nigger he won't have no mo' money than
a frog has feathers."

The pair entered the hotel.

The Mud Turtle went directly to his room, wherein he began the
difficult business of oozing his number twelve feet into a pair of
number ten shoes.

The Wildcat sought the Spindlin' Spider in whose web he had sacrificed
his thousand dollars earlier in the day.

He found his man leaning against a pool table in a room adjoining the
lobby of the hotel.

"Howdy, boy." The honeyed accents of gentle forgiveness dripped from
the Wild