s. Ain't got but sixty, an' I needs a dime
fo' goobers does I lose."

"Boy, roll 'em." Honey Tone proffered a pair of anxious dice, but the
Wildcat paid no attention to the offer.

"I got mah pussonal weapons," he said. He fished a pair of dice from
his left shoe. "Dey speaks de language. Gallopehs, git right. Wham! Ah
tol' you! Ah lets it lay. Shoots a dollah."

Honey Tone faded the bet. "Roll 'em." The Wildcat touched the tips of
his fingers to Lily's head. "Goat, stan' by me." His swinging hand
released a pair of dice whose innocent upturned faces presently
revealed a four and a trey. "Seven! Ah lets it lay. Whole hog o' de
squeal."

"Roll 'em!"

"Bam. Six an' five. Ah done climbed de luck tree. Honey Tone, shake me
out. Shoots fo' dollahs. Lily, stan' by me!"

"Blaa!" remarked Lily.

"Boy, roll 'em." Honey Tone began to itch for possession of the dice.

"Asleep in de snowdrift. When Lily says 'blaa' Ah lets 'em ride."

"An' seven! Ah lets it lay."

"Shoot, you fool, nobody neveh made five passes."

"Nobody but me." The Wildcat opened his dusky palm and a natural seven
leaped to the gaze of a waiting world. Honey Tone's eyes bulged with
surprise.

The Wildcat accumulated his winnings. From the crumpled handful of
bills he selected a dollar bill, which he twisted into a tempting
little salad bouquet. "Lily, eat this fo' luck. Ah reaps de greens to
nutrify mah mascot! Shoots ten dollahs!"

Lily munched delicately on the dollar bill while the Wildcat continued
with the harvest. The deeper Honey Tone sank into the bogs of chance,
the more he resented the introduction of the Wildcat's trained dice.
Once, in the run of hard luck, he showed signs of weakening, but the
Wildcat was quick to rally him with the adroit tongue of flattery.

"One thing I'll say fo' Honey Tone--win or lose, dat boy rides along.
Sho' is a vet'ran sport."

In the Wildcat's compliment Honey Tone's effort to unload from the
wreckbound train of chance found defeat. He rode along, hope springing
eternal, until his financial condition approximated zero.

"Shoots twenty dollars." The Wildcat's announcement leaped from a pair
of belligerent lungs.

"Ain't got but 'leven fifty." Honey Tone's voice was husky.

"Shoots 'leven fifty." The game was delayed a moment while the Wildcat
hunted for appropriate minor currency. "Heah's de fifty cents I stahted
wid. Lily, at ease!" The Southern Hemisphere of the mascot subsided.

"Honey Tone, yo