"Do you think so?" asked Mr. Mugg, hopefully.
"I'm sure of it!" declared his daughter. "Oh, if I only had a little soap and water."
"We can let you have some, lady," said the sergeant. "You may take the cat to the washroom and clean her."
This Miss Geraldine did. Under the stream of water, when some soap had been rubbed on the China Cat, a great change took place. Off came the grime of the smoke! Off came the spots of sticky molasses! Off came the soiled marks made by Jeff's dirty hands! The White Cat, not coming to life while Miss Geraldine had her, of course got no soap in her eyes, as would have happened if she had been real.
Soon all the black, the grime, and the dirty spots were washed away. Geraldine dried the China Cat on a towel the sergeant gave her, and then held the plaything up in front of her father.
"Now isn't that our Cat?" asked Miss Geraldine.
Mr. Mugg looked carefully over the tops of his glasses. He ran his hands through his hair and then through his whiskers, and then rubbed his hands together.
"Why—er—yes—er—my dear—that is our China Cat!" he said. "We'll take her right back to the store! Oh, I'm very glad to get her back. Thank you, very much," he said to the police sergeant.
"You are welcome," replied the officer. Then Geraldine and her father hurried back to the toy shop, carrying the China Cat.
As for the white pussy, you can imagine how glad and happy she was to be clean again. Nothing else mattered for the time, and she would have mewed out a song if she had been allowed to do so. But of course she could not.