“What? And not know where you’re going? That’s queer. I should think if you ran away you’d have to have a place to run to.”
“Not at all,” said Blackie. “Speckle ran away many times, and he never said anything about going to any special place.”
Muffins shook her head.
“It doesn’t seem right,” she said. “I’d want to know where I was going, even if I ran away.”
“That’s part of the adventure, not knowing where you’re going,” said Blackie. “Now I can go up the street, or down the street, just as I please. If I had picked out a place to run to I’d have to go there whether I wanted to or not. No, it’s best to run away just as Speckle did, and then see what happens. So you won’t come with me?”
“Thank you, no.”
“Then I must go alone, I suppose. Well, when I come back I will tell you all my adventures,” Blackie promised.
“Yes, do,” invited Muffins. “I shall like to hear about them, even if I can not go myself.”
Then the two cats said good-by, in cat-talk, and Blackie turned down the side street. She had never been there before. It was like going to a new world for her, or as when you children visit or board at a new place in the country, or at the seashore, on your vacation.