"Same here," said the Codfish. "I'd take a hand in the rescue myself, if it wasn't so blooming cold to-night."
"That's just it, it is so blooming cold that poor pussy is likely to freeze to death. If she's inside, she's all right."
"Of course she's inside, you blithering idiot," said the Codfish, yawning. "Any cat that knows enough to sing 'America' isn't likely to be so dumb as to stay out in zero weather, is she? Perhaps she wasn't kidnapped at all——"
"Cat-napped, you mean," corrected Jimmy.
"Well, cat-napped, then. Perhaps she's just a good religious cat and came in to prayers like any Freshman. Whatever her intention was, I can't help it. But there's one thing I do know," and the Codfish sat up and wagged his forefinger impressively.
"What?"
"That I'm going to my downy couch, cat or no cat." He rose to his feet, gave a prodigious stretch and ambled off in the direction of the bed chamber.
"Well, I must be going, too," said Jimmy.
"I'll take a turn with you," said Frank. "Come on, David, a whiff of this sharp air will do you good."