"Here, Bets, sniff just there — don't you think there's a smell of turps there?"
A big cat was tying on the bench. Bets pushed her gently away so that she could smell. "No," said the little girl. "I can't smell turps on this bench, Fatty."
Fatty sniffed again and looked astonished. "The smell isn't there now," he said. "But it was, a minute ago!"
Bets lifted back the cat she had moved. "There, Puss," she said, "take your place again."
"Golly! the smell's come back," said Fatty, wrinkling up his nose. "Smell, Bets."
"Why!" said Bets in surprise, "it can't be on the bench. It must be on the cat. I can smell it now I've put the cat back. But I couldn't before."
"Bets," said Fatty, "where do you smell the turps on the cat?"
"Just here," said Bets, and she bent her small nose down to the middle of the cat's dark tail.
"So do I," said Fatty. He looked very carefully indeed at the long tail, which the cat was now trying to swing from side to side.
"Fatty! Bets! There's someone coming!" cried Larry in a low voice. "Come out, quick!"