"I can't get your cat from the street," said Joe. "That's why I came up here. I must walk out on the wire from your window. Have you a pair of slippers? The older and softer the better—slippers with thin, worn soles."
"Why, yes, I have. But you—you can't walk out on the wire! It is too small, almost, for my cat! You can't do it! It is impossible!"
"Oh, no," answered Joe gently, "it isn't impossible. I have done it before. If you'll let me get to a window near which the wire is stretched, and if you will let me take a pair of old slippers."
"Come in!" interrupted the eccentric old woman, opening wide the door. "I don't in the least know what you intend to do, but something seems to tell me I can trust you. And if only you can save Peter—"
"I'll try," said Joe simply.
The woman began to search frantically in a closet, throwing out shoes, dresses, and other feminine wearing apparel. As she delved among the things, a shout arose from the street, the noise of the voices floating in through the open window. Joe looked out.
"Oh, has Peter fallen?" cried the woman.
That, too, had been Joe's thought.
"No," he answered, as he took an observation. "Your cat has only changed his position a little. I suppose the crowd thought it was going to fall, but it's all right. I'll soon have it back to you. Is it a vicious cat?"
"Oh, no indeed. He's as gentle as can be. But perhaps he might be so scared now that he wouldn't know what he was doing. I see what you mean. Here, I'll give you an old pair of gloves for your hands."