Free Color Him Gay: The Further Adventures of the Man from C. A. M. P. by V. J. Banis Page A

of sympathy. There were so many unfortunates in the world. If only he could help them all. But he had chosen a cause and dedicated himself to it. His strength and his resources must be devoted solely to that one cause if he was to be effective.
    As he watched, the bedraggled creature changed his course of direction and started toward the restrooms. To Jackie’s alarm he paused at the wastebasket and began to rummage through its contents. The man was certain to find the sack full of money and his plans, as well as those of B.U.T.C.H., would be thwarted. He opened the door of his car and put one foot to the ground.
    No, he realized suddenly, this was not some chance mishap that Fate had thrown in their paths. The tramp appeared to be rummaging merely for something to eat but even as he pawed through the refuse he had already removed the bag containing the money and set it carefully aside. After a moment he started away, the money tucked neatly under his arm.
    Jackie smiled to himself and closed his car door again. Very neat, in case anyone was watching. The man had moved off down one of the many paths that passed through the park. Mentally Jackie reviewed the layout of the park, which he had committed to memory, judging where the man’s route would take him. Then, starting up the engine of the Plymouth, he drove slowly forward, taking the vehicular route that would carry him to the same destination.
    There was another car ahead of him. Jackie moved slowly behind it, keeping it within sight as he came down another drive in time to see the tramp emerge from the trees in the distance. The door of the waiting car opened, the money was handed inside and the car pulled quickly away as the tramp ambled across the road at a leisurely pace.
    All very slick, Jackie thought. He drove carefully, dropping behind and out of sight. With the homing device buried in the money carefully giving him directions, it was not necessary that he keep within sight of the car he was following. Wherever they went he would follow. With luck they would lead him to their home base, the very heart of B.U.T.C.H.
    That was something he had long searched for and the prospect of success at last filled him with tingling excitement. This could prove far more important than Dingo Stark’s diaries. It could mean safety for hundreds and thousands of homosexuals.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    The route that they were following carried them back downtown. Jackie drove with one eye on the evening traffic and the other on the dashboard, watching the signal that was giving him directions. The brilliance of downtown San Francisco by night spread around him. Market Street was a bawdy river of sailors in tight-fitting uniforms and high-voiced, effeminate young men. Cheap arcades and magazine shops, that he knew displayed blatantly erotic pictures and books, lined the sidewalks. Theaters advertised vulgar girlie movies. It was an area that reeked of vice, sex and unconcealed desire.
    They turned and left behind the tawdry atmosphere of Market Street. He realized they were heading toward Chinatown—a city within a city, another world almost. His heart beat faster as he sensed that they were near their destination.
    The signal from the dashboard told him that the car ahead had stopped. Jackie drove slowly, dodging the streams of cars and pedestrians. Here the tourists were out in full force, for Chinatown was a sight to be seen by night as well as by day. Strange, exotic buildings were silhouetted against the San Francisco sky. Quaint shops offered works of art and tourist junk together and dimly lighted side streets and alleys hinted at adventure and danger.
    He saw the car he had been following parked at the curb ahead of him. He drove by it, seeking a parking place of his own and found it on the next block. He parked and walked back, blending in with the crowds of tourist, moving inconspicuously.
    The car was still where he had seen it. Jackie paused as he approached,