But Blackie did not mew or purr in answer. She did not even hear Mrs. Thompson calling, for just then a baggage-man wheeled a rumbling truck along the platform, and it made a great noise.
“Oh, where can my nice cat have gone to?” asked Mrs. Thompson. “I must find her. Did any one see her?”
“I saw a black cat jump out of the basket just as the engine whistled,” said a man.
“That was Blackie,” said Mrs. Thompson. “Which way did she run? I’ll give a dollar to get her back.”
“She ran down the platform,” spoke another man. “I’ll see if I can find her for you.”
“And so will we,” said two or three boys. They would have been glad to find Blackie to get the dollar, I guess. Then began a search for the black cat. But no one found her, for Blackie well knew how to hide in among the boxes and barrels.
“Well, I guess she has run away,” said Mrs. Thompson, at last. “I’ll have to go on to my country house alone. If any of you men around the depot find her, please save her for me.”
“We will,” said the railroad men.
Mrs. Thompson drove away in a carriage, taking the empty basket with her.