"But there's no more milk for pussy," said Sue.
"Well, he's got a little left in his bottle," Bunny answered. "And he can have some of our water."
"Water isn't good to eat—it's only good to drink," declared Sue.
"Maybe Toddle will eat nuts," suggested her brother.
But when they put some down in front of the cat it only smelled of them, played with them by knocking them about with its paw, and rubbed up against Sue.
"Oh, well, maybe he won't be hungry," Bunny said.
Night was now coming on, and Bunny and Sue were alone in the freight car—that is, except for Toddle, and while the children loved the kitten he was not as much company as a big dog would have been.
On and on rumbled the train. Where they were now Bunny and Sue had not the least idea. Bunny was still looking among Nutty's things for another candle-end to light when the first one should burn out, which seemed likely to happen very soon, when the children suddenly became aware that the train was slowing up.
"Oh, maybe it's going to stop!" exclaimed Sue.
And then, just as the candle burned down and went out in a splutter of grease, leaving the car in darkness, the train came to a slow stop, with a creaking and squealing of brakes.