On the following Saturday Honey Tone managed to postpone the election of the Soopreem Governors for the ten districts of the colony and to sidestep the various vague promises that he had sown so lavishly throughout the preceding two weeks, but in the department of finance there was no evasion, short of flight, and in the white light that forever beat about him escape for the moment was impossible. He sensed the growing pyramid of final retribution and began to formulate plans whereby the mantle of responsibility might be transferred to other aspiring shoulders. The cumulative financial problem was a simple matter of geometrical progression, at the far end of which lay a solution consisting of several quarts of blood. He faced a wire-edged razor, seeking a gilt-edged dodge, and so far his brain had failed to formulate the safe way out. His attempts at transferring the long end of the load to the strutting deppities who hung around the Temple of Luck met with less success. "Long as you stays Soopreem enough to wrassle wid de financial department, us leaves you run it. You is soopreem now. Stay dat way." Later on Brother Livingstone approached Honey Tone and warned the leader to stay Soopreem or pay the charges on one life-size mistake. "Confidential like, Honey Tone, I tells you stay soopreem o' else tell de grave committee de facts fo' yo' tombstone." The person of the Soopreem Leader became the object of watchful care on the part of three shifts of Deppity Gardeens. Day and night there were two or three watchful waiters on the job. The fourth pay day was approaching and with it an obligation to pay out more than four thousand dollars. Receipts were falling off. On Wednesday night Honey Tone's bankroll audited less than three thousand dollars. He tried to split the pot with the Deppity Gardeens in return for liberty. In this he failed. On Thursday night, as near as he could see, all the gates were closed. He was on a one-way road. CHAPTER XIX 1. "All I does is follow mah feet, 'Ceptin' when de boss says, 'Stop an' eat!' Follow mah feet de whole day through; Follow mah feet 'till I burns a shoe, Shovin' a truck load o' po'k an' beans, Loadin' de boat fo' New O'leans." Back of his truck on the dock the Wildcat set the pace for his fellows. The man in front of him found the Wildcat forever at his heels. The man following had a hard time keeping up. Now and then the Wildcat's feet abandoned the steady trot for a gait which included considerable prancing, embellished with a new series of fancy steps, limited only by the inertia of the freight truck with which the stepper's ambition was retarded. "On de down-hill drag let yo' hind legs slide; Mawnin', Mistah Debbil, git aboa'd an' ride. Git behin' me, Satan, on de up-hill road, I'se a one-horse sinner wid a two-horse load."