Dave did not reply, for just then he felt something moving in the blanket. He made a clutch for it. A little squeak followed.
“I’ve got it, Phil!”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know yet—it’s in the blanket.”
“Oh, what a noise!” came from the berth beyond. “Cannot you young men be quiet?” It was a woman who was speaking. She was an elderly person and Dave had noticed, during the day, that she was rather sour-looking.
“Sorry, madam, but I’ve just caught something in my berth,” answered Dave. “I’ll turn up the light and see what it is,” he added, as he held on to the object in the blanket with one hand and turned on the electric illumination with the other.
The cries and talking had awakened half a dozen people and the sleepy porter came down the aisle to find out what was wrong.
“It’s a mouse—a white mouse!” cried Dave, as the little creature was uncovered.
“Wot’s dat, a mouse!” exclaimed the porter. “Nebber heard of sech a t’ing! How did he git yeah?”
“Don’t ask me,” replied Dave. “Ugh! he nipped me in the toe, too!”