III
THE PIRATE’S CAT
“ME-OW! me-ow!” came the cat’s voice from the door.
“Oh, Kitty! Kitty!” cried Mary Frances, running toward it. “Why, wherever did you come from? I thought I had looked all over the ship.”
“Indeed,” replied the cat, “even if you had, and you have not, you wouldn’t have found me. The pirate’s been watching a year to throw me on board The Good Ferry.”
“Oh,” exclaimed Mary Frances, “the pirate—why, I haven’t seen any pirate!”
“Of course you haven’t,” said the cat; “he’s too smart for that. He’s been watching for a time when the dolphin had deserted his post.”
“Oh, dear,” thought Mary Frances, “it was all my fault;” but out loud she said, “Well, no great harm can come of it, anyway. Won’t you have some dinner?”
“Yes, thank you,” said the cat, looking longingly at the table.
“Take this chair,” invited Mary Frances, pointing to the dolphin’s place.
The cat leaped up on the chair, and carefully tucked a napkin into the collar on its neck. Mary Frances filled a plate with turkey and potatoes and gravy, and set it before the cat, who politely waited for her to take her place and begin to eat.
“Do not wait for me, Kitty,” said his hostess; “I’ve finished this course, thank you.”
Soon nothing was left on the plate.
Just as Mary Frances was going to suggest that ice cream might make a nice dessert, the cat began to tremble. It trembled so that the ship shook all over.
“Why, what is the matter?” asked Mary Frances. “Are you chilly?”
“Oh, dear, no,” replied the cat, its teeth chattering. “Oh, dear, no; but I forgot! The pirate will hang me! He will! He will!”
“Why will he hang you?” asked Mary Frances, quite bewildered, and a little frightened.
“Speak softly,” said the cat. “Come here, and I’ll whisper.” And behind his upraised paw, he told, “The pirate ordered me to eat the dolphin; and to bring his right fin to prove that I’d done it. And now I’m too full of dinner to do it.”
“Eat him, indeed!” said Mary Frances, angrily. “I’d like to see you!”
“Oh, would you?” cried the cat. “If you only hadn’t given me so much dinner, you might have had the pleasure—that is, if the dolphin had come aboard again. You see, I can’t do it now; I can’t catch him in the water. And the pirate said he’d come for me in an hour and nine minutes. It’s close to that now,” glancing at the clock. “Oh, what shall I do?”
“Why does the pirate want the dolphin killed?”
“Hush!” exclaimed the cat. “Speak softly! Come here! I’ll whisper the reason to you. It’s on account of the lost story. He thinks you might find it, and if the dolphin is destroyed, he can run down The Good Ferry. He can’t do the work himself, for he is bound in chains on his own ship, but he has prisoners on board whom he orders about, just as he did me. He can’t get within miles of The Good Ferry if the dolphin is guiding her. He was so mad that he didn’t notice when the dolphin first came aboard that the foam from his mouth was strong soapsuds, and washed the black decks of the pirate ship snow white.”
“But,” said Mary Frances, “you forget—if the dolphin guides the ship, the pirate can’t get you!”
At that the cat began to laugh joyously, and it laughed so hard that Mary Frances laughed too; and suddenly the meat course disappeared off the table and a huge block of ice cream appeared in its place, and Mary Frances and the cat—you know what they did.