For three days did Mr. Lock keep close watch and ward over his captive. Mr. Robb, on reconnoitring duty, was able to tell him that the vanished Jonathan had not yet put in an appearance at his home, and that the Golightlys were looking forward with the liveliest emotions of thankfulness to the moment which should restore to them their pet cured of its ailment by Mr. Lock’s veterinary skill.
“But s’pose,” put forward Mr. Tridge, one afternoon, in a pessimistic mood—“s’pose that that there first cat turns up at ’is old ’ome one day after you’ve got your other cat settled there. It’ll be awkward, won’t it?”
“Not a bit of it,” vaunted Mr. Lock. “I shall be working at the place by then, so it’s a ’undred to one that I shall catch sight of it first, and then there won’t be no fatted calf killed for the returned prodigal, you can bet. I shall just collar it and shove it in a sack and come down and have a look to see how the old harbour is getting on.”
“Ah, but s’pose you ain’t on the spot?” persisted Mr. Tridge. “What ’appens then?”
“Why, I shall swear it can’t be their beloved Jonathan, because ’e’d never ’ave left my sight while I ’ad ’im ’ere, so the new-comer must be a stray. Oh, I’ll manage them all right, don’t you fret!”
Next morning Mr. Lock arrayed himself in his best, shaved himself to a miracle of velvet smoothness, and brushed his hair with extraordinary interest, for he purposed now to restore the pseudo-Jonathan to its expectant master and mistress, and to bring diplomacy to bear upon the securing of the coveted post of chaperone to a milk-cart.
“Pity my eyes don’t lose a bit of their colour,” he observed, studying his reflection in the glass. “They look just as black as they did when we first ’ad that little dispute, Joe.”
“They look as if you might only ’ave got them last night,” agreed Mr. Tridge. “’Pon my soul, they makes me feel almost like a bad character myself, just to be talking to ’em.”
Mr. Lock, recognizing the futility of wishes, dropped the subject and took up the imprisoned cat. Slipping it into a hamper, he set off up town with it, and speedily came to the home of the Golightlys.
“’Ere’s you cat, ma’am,” he said to that lady, handing the animal over to her.