party was delayed five minutes to permit the
entrance of a motley crew of manacled aliens.

"How come them boys festooned with so much jinglin' hardware?"

One of the Potent Nobles made reply.

"Bad actors."

"Cap'n, suh, who's dat black boy wid de straight hair and his head tied
up in de white rag?"

"Hindoo."

"Some boy sho' must ob busted his head open, to need tyin' up so bad."

Following the line of undesirables headed away from the land of the
free, Lily, the Wildcat, and the Potent Nobles filtered through the
gates into the train shed. They made their way down a long string of
coaches, arriving finally at the Mazeppa.

"Here's the car."

"Car, howdy. Lily, git aboa'd."

"Slip out and get me a box of cigars before we leave."

A Potent Noble shoved a banknote at the Wildcat.

"Cap'n, yessuh. Would you mind tyin' Lily on de front vegetable ob de
car till I gits back?"

Twelve minutes later, carrying in his hand a box of cigars, the
Wildcat's second entrance was blocked by a ticket chopper who had a
square jaw and a sense of duty.

"Where's your ticket?"

"Ain't got no ticket. I's de poteh wid de Mysterious Mecca gen'men. Le'
me by."

"Don't try to pull none o' that stuff around me."

"Man, leave me by!"

Armed with the conviction of authority and clad in a parade-leading
Prince Albert whose brass buttons reassured him, the Wildcat violated
one of the first principles of his life, which was never to oppose a
white man. He slid past the ticket chopper, ducked into the gate, and
boarded the train wherein rolled the Mazeppa. He caught a tourist
Pullman three cars apart from the rolling residence of the Mysterious
Mecca delegation and landed breathless in the open vestibule.

"Fust thing old Backslid, what learned me de po'teh bizness, said to do
was to close up de vegetable."

This he proceeded to do. He turned and entered the car. For a second
time he slid past blue-coated authority, in the form of a United States
Deputy Marshal who was temporarily chaperoning the departing aliens.

"Hold on, there: where you headed for?"

"I's de poteh what takes care ob de Noble Fezant boys in de blue
pants."

The deputy marshal temporarily on guard had a fixed official rule of
conduct: never take a chance. The Wildcat's words sounded crazy enough
to entitle him to a membership card in the Traveling Nut Club.

"Git in that car and sit down before I blow your head off! Where's your
handcuffs?"

"Cap