We did, but nothing came of it. It didn’t make a word of sense.
“’Tain’t that,” says Mark, “but I’ll tell you what I b-b-b’lieve it is.”
“What?” says I.
“Feet,” says he.
“Whose feet?” says I.
“Feet,” says he, sharp-like. “Measure. Twelve-inch feet.”
“Oh,” says I.
“Yes,” says he, his cheeks flushing a little and his eyes getting all shiny with excitement. “That must be it. It means to start where the cat is and walk where she looks thirty and twenty and ten and forty-six feet. How many’s t-that?”
“Thirty and twenty’s fifty, and ten is sixty and forty-six is a hunderd and six,” says I.
“Good enough,” says he. “We’re so far in no time at all. We f-find pussy, makin’ sure we got the right pussy, and we take note of where she’s l-lookin’ and we walk that way a hunderd and six f-feet.... Then what do we do?” says he, with a grin.