Dig Here!

  VII

  Caliph

  TOO surprised to move, we stood and watched him. Then I caught Eve bythe hand. "Why, we can't let him carry off Adam like that!" I cried."What will Aunt Cal say? Why, it's highway robbery--stealing our catbefore our eyes!"

  "I don't think he'll invite us in," Eve observed with somethingsuspiciously like a giggle. "Seems sort of a crusty old bird."

  "But we can't stand here and do nothing!" I was starting forward when Isaw that the back door of the house had opened from within. For amoment another figure stood there, etched against the light. Then theCaptain entered and the door closed.

  "Well," I cried, "I'm not going to stand for that! Eve, maybe--maybethey're vivisectionists or something--going to cut his poor littleinsides out!"

  At this gruesome suggestion, however, Eve only laughed again. "How youdo let your imagination run on, Sandy!"

  "Just the same, are you going to let that man steal my aunt's cat?" Idemanded. "You know what 'store she sets by Adam.'"

  "Well, I'm thinking," said Eve. "I think perhaps there's somemisunderstanding."

  "Misunderstanding!" I scoffed. "I tell you that man's nothing but acommon thief. Probably knows Aunt Cal's away and thinks he can get awaywith it. But I guess he'll find he's mistaken!" With that I advancedboldly toward the house.

  There was a light in the kitchen window and I could hear movementsinside as I crossed the little porch and knocked loudly on the door.Eve was in the shadow just behind. After a minute the door opened andthe figure I had seen there before stood in the light of an oil lampwhich was burning in a wall bracket behind him.

  "What do you want?" It was not a gruff voice like Captain Trout's, butclear and a little chilly. Moreover there was something distinctlyfamiliar about it. But I did not stop to place it. Instead, I steppedboldly across the threshold and faced the owner squarely. He turned andthe light fell on his face. It was John Doe.

  But I did not let my momentary astonishment distract me from mypurpose. "We've come for our cat," I stated.

  Looking beyond the boy, I saw the Captain in the act of pouring out asaucer of milk. "He's had his supper," I said. "And besides he likeshis milk warmed."

  "I guess I know what he likes," snapped the Captain, setting the saucerof milk down on the floor beside the stove.

  I took an indignant step forward. But Eve's restraining hand was on myarm. "Wait a minute, Sandy," she urged. "If Captain Trout wants to giveAdam a little refreshment, surely there's no harm in that. I'm goingoutside to have a little chat with Mr. Doe. You'd better come along."

  I hesitated, looking from the ruddy face of the Captain, bentsolicitously over the cat, to the impassive one of John Doe where hestood like a sentinel guarding the door. Suddenly the whole situationbecame funny. "Eve," I said, "doesn't he remind you of Horatius at theBridge or something!"

  But Eve was saying something to him in a low appealing voice and thenext moment, somewhat to my surprise, we were all three standingtogether on the little back porch with the door closed behind us."Now," said Eve, "please, Mr. Doe, do tell us what all this catbusiness is about?"

  "Oh, don't call me that," said the boy impatiently. "You know it isn'tmy name."

  "Naturally," returned Eve, "but since it's the name you gave us----"

  "Oh, I was just kidding. My name's Michael Gilpatrick."

  "What an awfully nice name," Eve smiled. She seated herself on one ofthe built-in benches at the end of the porch. "Now," she said, "we cantalk. Tell us about the cat."

  Michael Gilpatrick leaned against the post. "Well," he said, "I supposeI might as well. But I don't want you to think I'm taking sides in thematter. Of course I'm a friend of the Captain, still I can see thatthere's something to be said on both sides."

  "Okay," said Eve. "Having stated your position, please proceed. Youmust remember that we're all in the dark. We never had the slightestinkling that there was any mystery surrounding Adam until tonight. Ofcourse we knew that Aunt Cal and the Captain weren't exactly on cordialterms."

  "And that the Captain had a habit of creeping along hedges after dark,"I put in.

  Michael's straight mouth twitched a little, but he quickly regained hissolemnity. "Well," he began, "it's quite a long story. Goes back to thewinter before last."

  "Adam must have been something of a kitten then," Eve suggested.

  Michael nodded. "It was about Christmas time, I think, that CaptainTrout bought this little house and settled down here with his invalidwife."

  "Why, I didn't know----" I began, but Eve whispered, "Hush!"

  "They got this kitten--a kitten, that is," he went on. "It came to themon Christmas Day and Mrs. Trout made a big fuss over it. They called itCaliph."

  "What a flight of fancy!" I murmured.

  "That's what they named it," said Michael stolidly.

  "Well, go on."

  "Some time in February, one cold night when the thermometer was belowzero, the cat disappeared."

  "You didn't tell us this was a sob story," I put in, feeling for myhandkerchief.

  "Hush, Sandy," said Eve. "How did he happen to disappear?" she asked.

  "I don't know--he just vanished, the way cats do."

  "Night life and all that?" I queried.

  The boy ignored my frivolity. "The next day Mrs. Trout was ill and theCaptain was so occupied with nursing her that he didn't think very muchabout the cat's absence. But later, when he began to look about andmake inquiries, he couldn't find any trace of him."

  "And so a year went by," I prompted, "and still no trace of the missingche-ild!"

  "Well, it wasn't quite a year. It was the next fall, October, Ibelieve. Mrs. Trout had died that summer and the Captain was livinghere alone. One day he saw Caliph across the hedge. He was followingyour aunt, Mrs. Poole, about the garden."

  "How," I demanded, "did he know it was Caliph? A cat grows a lotin--let me see--eight months, wasn't it?"

  "He thought it was Caliph," continued Michael, "and he went over andtold Mrs. Poole so. But she said it was her cat Adam. She said she'dfound him starving on the street the week before and had brought himhome. Then Captain Trout explained about his cat, Caliph, runningaway last February and all. But it was no use. Mrs. Pooleremained--er--unconvinced."

  "Naturally," I exclaimed. "Why, the world's practically full of Maltesecats and to tell one from another after it's had eight months to growin--why, I don't blame Aunt Cal in the least."

  Michael regarded me gravely. "Well," he said, "I'm just giving you thefacts as I learned them. Of course, the whole thing is rather silly,"he added, "but you see the Captain was attached to Caliph on account ofhis wife and all, and should know his own cat."

  "Of course," said Eve. "He didn't have seven toes or anything likethat?" she suggested hopefully.

  "Not that I know of."

  "But look here!" I fairly bounced off my seat with the force of theidea that had come to me. "Why don't they simply put it to the test.Get together, I mean, and each call the cat in turn. If he answers toAdam--why, then he's ours, I mean Aunt Cal's. But if he comes toCaptain Trout----"

  Michael shook his head. "No good," he said. "As a matter of fact, thecat answers to any old name you happen to call him!"

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------