"'At's enough. Don' look so mean, ol' Mud Turtle. Does us see another rabbi walkin' down de main street us better take de alley fo' he sees us. Dem rabbi boys is just like a ticket to de po' house. Dem ginagogue gin rabbis is de wust of all."
At eleven o'clock the pair landed at the ferry building in San Francisco. As a precaution against lunch money, they saved the change from Mud Turtle's half dollar and walked towards the centre of the town.
They landed finally in Union Square.
The Wildcat flopped down on the grass, and the Mud Turtle joined him. "Mud Turtle, what's dat big house oveh there?" He pointed at the St. Francis Hotel.
"Boy, thought you told me you was here once befo'. Dat's de St. Frantic Hotel."
"How come de boy frantic what dey named de hotel fo'?"
"'Spec' he drunk some hoof oil, o' mebbe met a gin rabbi. Sho' is a fine day."
"All de days I seen in de town was fine days, 'ceptin' some evenin's when de fog gits heavy."
"Ol' fog comes in mighty handy does you owe money. Boy kin lose hisself f'm a bloodhoun' easy in de fog."
The Wildcat stretched himself out and prepared to go to sleep, but before he had accomplished his purpose he was interrupted by his companion.