“Of course not!” laughed his mother. “Daddy is only joking. And now I come to think of it, I have wondered why the scraps I put out for the birds always vanished so quickly. A hungry cat prowling about would explain everything.”
“It might be Aunt Nan’s cat,” said Mary thoughtfully. “Poor thing! He might have run away when he couldn’t find Aunt Nan any more. He might have been frightened, and have hid under the house.”
“I think in that case he would have starved to death in all these weeks,” said Mrs. Corliss. “Besides, I should think the neighbors would have told us, or that Aunt Nan herself would have left some word.”
“I’m going to find out, if I can,” said Mary. “If it’s Aunt Nan’s cat I want to be good to him. We want to be good to him, anyway, don’t we?”
“Of course we do,” said Mrs. Corliss. “But there is nothing so hard to tame as a wild cat.”
Katy Summers knew nothing of any cat belonging to Miss Corliss. Neither did the other neighbors.
That next day on coming home from school Mary again spied the cat. Just as she clicked the gate she saw the long, black shape scurry across the lawn and vanish under the ell, under Mary’s library. Mary tiptoed to the house and, stooping, called gently, “Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!”
At first there was no response. But presently there came a feeble and doleful “Miaou!” And Mary thought she could catch the gleam of two green eyes glaring out of the darkness.
“I must get him something to eat,” said Mary. “Perhaps I can tempt him to make friends.” And running into the house she returned with a saucer of milk and a bit of meat, which she set down close to the house. “Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!” she called, in a tone of invitation.
“Miaou!” cried the forlorn cat again. But he did not come forth from his hiding-place.