“Oh, my! Scat! What’s this? A black cat!” cried the old gentleman, and he stumbled so, trying not to step on Blackie, that his tall silk hat fell off and rolled into the gutter.
Then around the corner came the three boys after the cat. The old gentleman saw them and cried:
“Boys! Boys! You mustn’t chase cats that way. Look what she did to me—knocked off my hat!”
“We’re chasing the cat to get a dollar,” said the red-haired boy, and then he and his friends ran on.
Blackie was getting very tired now. She looked back and saw the old gentleman picking up his silk hat, from which he brushed the dust.
“I’m sorry about his hat,” thought Blackie. “But it was not my fault. I did not mean to run between his legs.”
“Come on, fellows! We’ll get her now!” cried the red-haired boy, as he ran on faster than before.
Blackie looked ahead of her. She saw near the sidewalk an open cellar door of a store.
“That will be a good place to hide,” thought Blackie. “The boys can’t find me down there in the dark,” and down the outside cellar stairs she ran.
“Now we’ve got her!” said another boy. “She can’t get out of the cellar.”