A little later, apart from the other guests, the Wildcat asked Cuspidora Lee a direct question. "O! Honey Tone been representin' he's single?"
The Wildcat's brunette hostess hesitated. "Tol' me he neveh seed nobody befo'," she admitted—"tol' me his love-eye neveh seed nobody 'ceptin' me."
"All 'at boy's love-eye seed is de p'visions in yo' kitchen. Ah knows him. Acts like de yelleh niggah whut he is—prancin' round uppity in France—comes back heah callin' himself 'Colonel,' 'count he wore oilcloth leggin's an' drunk coonyak whilst us boys wuz fightin' de battle of Bo'deaux."
Cuspidora Lee listened with eager ears. "I runs him out now, the flea-bit houn'," she finally announced.
"Ca'm yo'se'f. Don' git to brindlin'. Come out to de ball park tomorr' at de parade an' you sees him leadin' us Culled Heroes."
Honey Tone Boone meanwhile had charmed a dozen of his male and female auditors with Mister Ouija's spiritual assistance.
At eleven o'clock the coal oil lamps were again lighted and the guests employed themselves in the pleasurable business of consuming such refreshments as the Wildcat had overlooked. The evening ended with a general announcement from the uplifter, in which he invited the assemblage to be present on the following day at the parade of the Konk'rin' Culled Heroes.
"As de Supreem Gran' Organizeh Ah bids yo' welcome," he concluded.
From the darkness outside came a sardonic echo. "Blaa!" Lily the mascot had seen fit to accept the uplifter's invitation.
When the party broke up, the uplifter showed an inclination to linger after the Wildcat made his departure, but presently he realized the failure of his ambition.