SIR THOMAS KATZENSTEIN
“Billy, Flash is the cleverest cat ever!” May Nell exclaimed as she
bounded in some days later.
The quarantine had been raised, and at night Billy had “the run of
the house”; though his days were still spent in “the prison cell” as
he called the dark room. It seemed to him that light came in with the
little girl, and all the sparkle and fragrance of the young summer
without.
“What new trick has Flash been up to?”
“You know that bad, old, half-tailed Tom that whips every cat in town
but Geewhillikins and Flash and Sir Thomas--”
“Yes; he’d lick him too, if Flash wasn’t Tom’s body-guard.”
“Well, just listen! This morning your mama set out the meat for their
breakfast. I had Geewhillikins and Jerusalem Crickets in the pound--the
woodshed, you know. Oh, they had a big breakfast before,” she added
quickly, feeling rather than seeing Billy’s disapproval.
“I forgive you,” he condoned.
“In a minute I heard the teentiest little mew. I looked and there was
Tom crouched against the side of the house. He was shivering with
fright, and that old tramp cat was eating up his breakfast.”
“The darned old robber!” Billy started up and walked restlessly toward
the door.
“I took a stick of kindling from the kitchen and crept out to chase the
thief away; but just then Flash trotted around the corner of the house.
He’s been on the front lawn all the morning watching for gophers;
wouldn’t come when we called him.”
“That’s Flash; he always works for his breakfast,” Billy pompously
approved.
“He ran up and touched noses with Tom like a Feegee Islander,--are they
the people that touch noses for ‘How do you do?’”
“I guess so. What else?”
“And Flash mewed just once, very softly. He couldn’t see the tramp cat,
for the big oak tree hid him. But the second Tom answered his mew,
Flash flew like a lightning streak, around the tree and up to that old,
stealing feline cat. And he ran-- O Billy, you’d have laughed an ache
in your side if you could have seen him run,--over the fence, he ran
again, across the street, down the sidewalk,--he never stopped till he
came to the tip top of Mr. Potter’s big locust tree.”
“By heck! Flash is all right.”
“Then he walked back as slowly and dignifiedly as a minister,--isn’t
‘dignifiedly’ an awkward word? I wonder if it is right?”
“Never mind grammar, or spelling, whichever it is; what did Flash do?”
“He went up to Tom--he was still crouching against the house--”
“Like the lazy coward he is,” Billy tartly interrupted.
“O Billy, he’s so beautiful and so clever; and he put his nose up to
Flash _so_ gratefully. Flash just mewed again, low as before, and
walked off round the house. And Tom went and ate his breakfast.”
“Well, old Tom’ll have to be cleverer than I ever saw him to pay for
that.”
“You don’t like Sir Thomas because he’s a little indolent.”
“It’s plain lazy. He won’t even wash himself.”
“Yet he has more mind than Flash.”
“Mind? What do you mean by that? Anyway, you can’t prove it.”
“Yes, I can, right now!” The little girl, full of enthusiasm for her
beloved yellow cat, went over and laid her hand impressively on
Billy’s arm. “You know the dining-room window screen hung from the top,
that has the broken catch on one side?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, Tom jumps up from the outside, hangs on the sill with one
forefoot, and pulls out the edge of the screen with the other till
he gets his nose in, when he can pry out the screen and slip through
easily.”
“Yes, he can do that; I’ve seen him myself.”
“Well, Flash can’t do that.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve watched, and called to him from the inside; but he only stands
and mews. Did you ever see him climb up and open the screen?”
Billy could not remember that he had.
“But, Billy, Tom opens it for him! He climbs up, gets his nose in, and
the largest part of himself; then he crowds along as hard as he can,
and calls to Flash, ‘The way is clear; come’;--you needn’t laugh; he
says it just as plain as words,” she protested. “And Flash springs up,
creeps through, and jumps to the floor, with Tom after him; and the
screen slaps to with a big noise. I’ve seen them do it three times this
week. Isn’t that a wonder?”
“Sure!” Billy assented, heartily. “I take it back about old Sir Thomas;
I guess they’re equal partners, after all.”
“They’re a regular Damon and Pythias, aren’t they? And we’ll have Flash
for the Polar Bear, in the circus, and Tom for the Royal Bengal Tiger,
the baby tiger, you know.”
“Yes; and we’ll have to train the dogs,-- Whoopee! Only four weeks of
school. We’ll have to hurry if we do the circus and “Lady of the Lake”
both before vacation.”
“Before vacation? Why, they’ll be just the things to do _in_ vacation.”
“They’ll have to be done before vacation or not at all,” he answered,
so seriously that May Nell wondered a little; wondered still more
as the moments passed and the dark room grew very quiet. She did not
know what purpose was growing in Billy’s mind, a purpose that largely
concerned herself.