On Wednesday night the Wildcat soused himself with bay rum and musk. About his neck, in lieu of a collar, he wrapped the spliced sleeves of a discarded silk shirt whose cerise dyes had barred it from Captain Jack's wardrobe. On his feet he wore a pair of patent leather violins whose tight interiors had been plentifully massaged with axle grease.
He started out with his mascot. "C'm on heah, Lily--you stahts gittin' social wid quality folks. How come dese shoes pinches all de time sho' beats me. By rights I weahs twelves. Man whut sold dese shoes said dey wuz fifteens--feels like sho' take bofe to make 'at much. But when dey sees dis heah neckerchief dey won't notice de shoes."
Halfway to the weegee party he removed the shoes and carried them in his hand to the portals of the Lee establishment. He sat down outside the door of the ouija castle and put on his shoes. He tethered Lily at the step and knocked at the door. A moment later he was being greeted by twenty friends and half as many strangers.
"Befo' I turns down de lights," the hostess announced, "I wants you to meet up wid Colonel Boone, one ob de culled heroes whut made de wah safe fo' white folks. Colonel Boone, say howdy at Misteh Marsden."
The Wildcat and the uplifter again stood face to face. "Honey Tone, how come Cuspido' calls you 'Colonel'?"
"By rights you is rank." The Wildcat turned to his brunette hostess. "Ah knows dis Boone man. Met up wid him in France. How come he projectin' roun' heah?"
Cuspidora was quick to sense a rift of jealousy in the social lute. "He's aimin' to claim me fo' a weddin' mate."
"Blow out dat light, Sis' Mosby." She reached for a second coal oil lamp and turned it down until the room was hardly light enough to distinguish the black letters on the ouija board which lay on the table. The uplifter deflected the impending embarrassment which might develop from continued conversation with the Wildcat by functioning as master of ceremonies.
"Rally roun'. Spirits is willin' if de flesh ain't weak. Wilecat, fondle de weegee board an' take a ra'r at seein' whut de future holds."
"Dis corner says, 'Yes.' Dat corner says, 'No.' De little board slides Yes or No, dependin' how de spirits answers whut yo' asks."
