The mind-reading porter looked at the Wildcat. A slow smile cut a red gash in his face. "Same as you--de half bottle whut's left." "Ah'll say you's a mind reader. Read an' see does de half bottle need a guardeen." "Fo'get dat guardeen business. Tomorrow mawin' he gives it to you does you crave it. 'At boy wouldn't look cross-eyed at you in town, but when you weahs de unifawm mos' likely does you crave a dram o' his liquor he be proud to give it to you. When him an' de headache wakes up tomorrow--" Zing! From above the Wildcat's head an electric bell rang with the suddenness of a striking rattlesnake. "Whut dat?" "Ca'm yo'sef. Some passengeh ringin' fo' de porteh. Store dat goat in heah befo' de ol' train conductor comes th'oo." The Backslid Baptist opened the door of the linen closet. Lily the mascot was ushered into the dark cave beneath the shelves. "Lily, at res'! See kin you sleep whilst Ah learns de porter business." The Wildcat began to absorb the free ice-water. Zing! The annunciator rang again with an impatient note. "Put dis white coat on you whilst I sees who wants whut." The Backslid Baptist handed the Wildcat a white linen coat. The Wildcat removed his long parade-leading Prince Albert with the red plush sash and the yellow epaulets and donned the white jacket. The Backslid Baptist returned from the far end of the car. "Fat boy in Loweh 7 wid de alcohol snorts craves ice-wateh. Fill a papeh cup an' carry it back to him." The Wildcat filled a paper cup with ice-water and started down the aisle of the car. He returned presently. "Kain't find whah at is 'at boy." "You looks till you sees '7' on de curtains. 'At's whah he is." The Wildcat essayed a second attempt with his life-saving ice-water. He had proceeded half the length of the car when, above the muffled rattles and creaks of its fabric, there lifted a wild shrieking laughter. The paper cup in the Wildcat's clutching hand was crushed flat. From the cup there gushed a geyser of ice-water straight for the parted curtains of Lower 7. CHAPTER V The wild laughter from somewhere across the aisle continued, but now it was punctuated by three voices. "F'r Gawd's sake, dearie, be quiet!" "Spluff! What th' hell--" "Lady Luck, whah at is you?" The Wildcat galloped back along the swaying aisle to the protection of the Backslid Baptist. The high-pitched laughter pursued him. "Pull de stoppin' string, Baptis'! Ah craves to git off dis train." "Ca'm yo'se'f. Whut ails you?" "Heah dat laffin'? Heah dat crazy--" Zing! Zing! ZING! "Doggone 'at Loweh 7. Did you wateh dat boy?" The Wildcat looked at the crushed cup in his hand. "Ah'll say so. Missed 'at boy's neck, but de ol' ice-wateh sho' baptized him." "See whut he wants again." "You betteh see, Baptis'. I's just learnin'." "Dearie, be quiet before I wring your neck!" A strident feminine voice addressed the author of the laughter. "Shut up! There, there, dearie.... Oh, you feen, leggo! My gawd, he bit me!"