Out from under the stoop crawled Blackie. Up the steps she went, and in through the open front door. She could hear the children in the kitchen now, getting drinks of water, and Blackie walked toward them, hoping there was something to eat in the house.
The gas was lighted in the kitchen. Mabel and Arthur stood near the sink, drinking. The little girl was the first to spy [Blackie], who [walked ] [in, her tail held up straight like a fishing pole].
“Why—why!” cried Mabel, rubbing her eyes to make sure she was wide awake. “Why, look, Arthur! There’s Blackie!”
“Blackie? Where?”
“Right here. Oh, Blackie, you’ve come back to us; haven’t you? Oh, how glad I am!” and Mabel caught Blackie up in her arms.
“Oh, you dear Blackie!” cried Arthur, rubbing the cat on the head. “Where have you been all this while, and where did you come from? Oh, how glad I am, and happy.”
“Purrr-r-r-r!” said Blackie, and that was her way of saying that she, too, was happy.
“Look, mother!” cried Mabel. “Blackie is back!”
“You don’t mean it!” said the lady. “Why, isn’t that strange!”
“She ran away just before we went on our summer vacation,” said Arthur, “and now when we come back she is here to meet us.”