orns."

Lily lagged. No guilty conscience impelled the mascot goat. In addition
to this, lacking mental momentum, her progress was considerably impeded
by a parade uniform consisting of an O.D. army shirt which dangled
loosely about her forelegs.

Half a block down the street Lily's parade raiment slipped. Her hobbles
tripped her. The galloping Wildcat felt an added drag on the leading
string. He glanced backward in his flight.

"Goat, how come you lose the cadence? Doggone you, see kin you skid
till you gits in step."

Lily bought the next fifty yards with an expenditure of some epidermis
and two ounces of goat hair.

She regained her feet, staggering under a ponderous ambition for
revenge. Forty feet from the Calhoun Street curb she took careful aim
at the Wildcat and stepped on the accelerator. The Wildcat coasted into
Calhoun Street with his parade-leading Prince Albert flapping straight
out behind him. He skidded over the curb in a pose which cost his army
pants half of their seating capacity.

Inertia claimed him. He rolled his head slowly over his shoulder and
gazed in bewilderment upon his prancing Nemesis.

"Lily, at ease!" The goat ambled up beside him. "At res'!"

The Wildcat grabbed for the mascot's leading string. "You an' me
declares peace. Ah done wrong when Ah drug you, but now see kin you
ramble. Ah craves to reach de Chicago Fliah whah at de ol' Backslid
Baptis' is porter, so us kin leave town without leadin' no mob."

"Blaa!" Lily answered in forgiveness.

About the mascot's chest the Wildcat adjusted the O.D. shirt with its
three service stripes. He tilted the little overseas cap which Lily
wore to a rakish angle between the mascot's horns.

With Lily clicking along at the Wildcat's heels, the pair entered the
portals of the Grand Central Station.

The Wildcat accosted a Red Cap of his own colour. "Whah at kin I find
de Backslid Baptist whut takes care o' de white gen'men on de Chicago
Fliah 'at leaves at 2:40?"

"I knows 'at boy dey calls Backslid, but dey ain't no Fliah leavin' at
2:40. 'At boy runs Pullman on de Panama Limited, leavin' heah at 10:10
tonight. Ol' Backslid neveh shows up till half-past nine to take his
cah out."

Confronted by seven intervening hours of life in Memphis, which might
include the release of Honey Tone Boone, whose temporary confinement in
the jail had just been accomplished, the Wildcat's ambition flopped.
His sole desire for the moment was for a high