tion the Wildcat chartered a rickety
express wagon hauled by a languid black mule. "Whuf!" the driver
grunted. "Sho' is de ponderestest bed-roll Ah eveh lifted."

"'At bed-roll's full of iron helmets f'm dead Germans, fo' Cap'n Jack
to 'membeh de wah by. De officehs craves to 'membeh de wah. Us 'listed
boys craves to fo'git it."

The driver of the express wagon looked sideways at the Wildcat. "When
did de goat die?"

"How come?"

"Sit him on de side ob me whah de win' ain't blowin'. Wuz he de Dove ob
Peace de wah'd go on fo'eveh. Whut's dem culled ribbons doin' on dat
goat?"

"De blue ribbon is mah mascot's quality. De red an' white ones is
patriotism."

"Thought mebbe dey wuz fus' an' secon' prizes fo' smellin'."

The Wildcat handed the driver of the express wagon a cigar.

"Smoke dis offsetteh," he said. Drifting along on a haze of conflicting
aromas, the outfit arrived finally at the residence of Captain Jack.
"Heah's de fifty cents," the Wildcat said to the express driver.

"Cost me dat to git de goat smell renovated off me. Wuth six bits."

"On yo' way. I'll six bits you! Quit whiffin' wid dat nose, befo' I
busts yo' loose f'm it. On yo' way! C'm on, Lily."

The Wildcat spent the rest of the afternoon shuffling furniture around
inside of Captain Jack's house. At four o'clock Captain Jack's wife
arrived, convoying a perspiring three-hundred-pound trophy which she
had been fortunate enough to capture.

"Yo' is de cook, is yo'?" the Wildcat said to the newly enthroned ruler
of the kitchen.

The ebony Amazon looked at him. "Who is you?"

"I's champion ration battler ob de world. Wait till I gits back." The
Wildcat returned presently with an armful of wood. "You claims you's a
cook--well, woman, I lights de fiah. Den you sees kin yo'."

"Kin I what?"

"Fust yo' barbecues 'at ham hangin' theh. When Ah gits th'oo, half of
it will be lef'. Whilst de ham's sizzlin' you th'ows enough cawn bread
togetheh to fill de big pan. When Ah gits th'oo dey'll be half of it
lef'. When de ham juice begins to git sunburned you makes some ham
gravy. Ah spec' ham gravy's de fondest thing Ah is of. I says 'Howdy,
ham gravy!' an' afteh me an' de vittles gits acquainted, mah appetite
won't need grub no mo'n a fish needs shoes."

"Cut de ham." The Wildcat carved off five or six thick slices.

The cook looked at him. "Is you fo'gittin' me?"

"You hungry? De way you looks, yo's et all de grub whut is."

"Nach'ral to be f