“Oh,” said Franklin, looking crestfallen.
“Now go and get ready for supper,” Grandmother said quietly. “I’ve had my say.” Franklin edged to the door, and then came back, holding out his hand.
“Grandmother,” he burst out, “Grandmother, shake! You’re a gentleman!” after which he bolted upstairs.
“Where was Weejums going when the boys chased her up a tree?” Eunice asked at the supper-table.
“Don’t know,” said Kenneth. “Mother, can’t I have three helps of cherries to-night, ’cause I’ve got a sore nose?”
“You may have four more cherries, Kenny; but don’t throw the stones at Cyclone any more. He may swallow them.”
“S’cuse me,” said Franklin, pushing back his chair. “Come on, Eunice, and we’ll go ask the boys about Weejums.” It was a treat for Eunice to go out with Franklin, after supper, and they were lucky enough to find the boy, Boxey, at the end of the block.
“There was two cats,” Boxey said, eagerly, “Yours, and an old tomcat with a game nose. They was trottin’ along together, an’ when we come up, he went under a porch, and she run up a tree. He kep’ callin’ to her, and spittin’ at us, the whole time.”
“P’r’aps he was bringing her home,” Eunice said. “Oh, Franklin, let’s go find that poor tomcat, and put some vaseline on his nose.”
“It was a lattice-work place, under a porch,” said Boxey, starting ahead. “I’ll show you.”