Scotty nodded agreement. He brushed dust off his trousers. "Might as well go back to the hotel. I'm hungry. Anyway, they know now that you don't have the cat on you—and that I don't, either. So what will they think?"
"Either that it's at the hotel or the project, or that we've put it somewhere for safekeeping. They searched the hotel room. Suppose they'll try the project?"
"It's possible, I suppose. Anyway, if they want us they can get us. Notice that no one saw the ruckus? The timing was perfect. A few feet sooner and we'd have been within sight of the museum's ticket office. A few feet later and we'd have been on the street. As it was, shrubs shielded them. Pretty good operating, I'd say."
Rick thought so, too, and it worried him. "I have an unhappy idea buzzing around. If I were the big boss, and really determined to get the cat, I'd pick us up and make us talk."
"The language is a little mixed, but the thought is clear as air. We'd better keep our guard up at all times."
"Meanwhile, what do we know about anything? Nothing. If only we knew why the cat is valuable!"
"If it wasn't before, it is now," Scotty replied. "It's a genuine museum piece. But if the cat is gone, we have three lovely kittens."
Rick chuckled. "What's the problem everyone has with kittens? It's finding a home for them. I wish we'd had one of the kittens a few minutes ago. There would have been one less homeless orphan."
"The kittens' turns will come. And it's our turn to eat. My stomach is quivering in Morse code. 'Send food. Send food.'"
Rick pointed to the hotel, just ahead. "Okay, chow hound. Lunch ahead. And lay off that hot-pepper stuff or that stomach of yours will be sending distress signals."