Carrying the boots in his hand, he walked beside the Wildcat 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."