“It’s just the mysteriousest thing,” she began, speaking to Tess, when the latter suddenly exclaimed:
“Sandy-face!”
The mother cat was just coming out of the bigger girls’ bedroom. She sat down at the head of the main flight of stairs and calmly washed her face. Sandy-face had the run of the house and her presence was driving out the mice, who had previously gnawed at their pleasure behind the wainscoting.
“You—you don’t suppose Sandy-face did that?” gasped Dot.
“Who else?” asked Tess.
“All of those walnuts?” said Dot, in horror. “And those sandwiches? And not leave a crumb on the plates?”
“She looks just as though she had,” determined Tess.
“You—you are an awful bad cat, Sandy-face,” said Dot, almost in tears. “And I just hope those walnuts will disagree with your stomach—so now!”
Tess was quite angry with the cat herself. She stamped her foot and cried “Shoo!” Sandy-face leaped away, surprised by such attentions, and scrambled up stairs in a hurry. Almost at once the two girls heard her utter a surprised yowl, and down she came from the garret, her tail as large as three tails, her eyes like saucers, and every indication of panic in her movements.
She shot away for the back stairs, and so down to the hall and out of doors.