He tied a leading-string around the mascot's neck. "Come on heah, Lily. Us fades befo' Honey Tone busts loose f'm de jail. Us rides de Fliah to Chicago wid ol'Backslid. He's mah fren'. Le's go!"
CHAPTER IV
"Memphis, let me miss you! Feet, see kin you trod de good-bye jazz! Lily, le's go! Git in step! C'm on heah befo' Ah jerks yo' head loose f'm yo' horns."
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'!"