THE cat looked at Mary Frances.
Mary Frances looked at the cat.
“Ha, ha, and ha, ha!” said the cat. “We’ll laugh at her some day!”
“We will!” said Mary Frances, “we will, Puss! Let us call the dolphin.”
The dolphin swam up at that moment.
“Whither now?” it asked. “Where shall we go, Cat?”
“64° 40´ W., 32° 40´ N.,” said the cat; and the dolphin swam ahead, turned the boat, and soon the island was out of sight.
“Come, I am hungry!” said Mary Frances. “Let us go into the dining-room.”
“The dolphin has plenty of element soup,” she thought.
There was the table spread with a fine feast, and both she and the cat enjoyed it.
Just as they were finishing dessert, they heard a pounding noise. They rushed out on deck. The noise was made by the dolphin hitting the side of the boat with its tail.
It whispered two words, “Pirate Ship,” and swam ahead again.
The cat made a telescope with his paws, and looked out over the water. “Sure enough!” he cried, in fear. “Oh, my! Oh, my! and I haven’t eaten the dolphin!”
“For shame!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “For shame! You have forgotten that he can’t come very near while the dolphin is at his post!”
“Oh, yes; that is so. Excuse me, please. But what does the pirate mean by coming, I wonder?”
“Do you suppose he thinks we may be near finding the story?” asked Mary Frances.
“That’s it!” exclaimed the cat. “I’ll wager my whiskers that’s his idea. So that if we espy it he’ll get it first.”
“Do you think we’ll find it?” asked Mary Frances.
“My fur feels as though we would,” said the cat. “Please tell me, is it sending out sparks?”
It was growing quite late in the afternoon, and quite dusky. Mary Frances, to her astonishment, saw great showers of electric sparks coming from the cat’s body.
“You look like a sparkler on the Fourth of July, Cat,” she said.
“Oh, isn’t that fine!” said the cat. “You see, it’s this way—the nearer we get to the story, the more sparklier my fur gets.”
“So we must be quite near,” said Mary Frances; “for I don’t see how you could get much more sparklier.”
“I forgot to tell you,” said the cat, “that after we find the story, the dolphin’s power to keep the pirate away is gone. We’ll have to race like a rocket to beat his boat.”
“Oh, my, what is the matter!” exclaimed Mary Frances, as the cat suddenly jumped high in the air, sending out a shower of sparks that fell at her feet on the deck. Over the side of the boat he fell, and all was dark as a pocket.
“Oh, Kitty, Kitty,” cried the frightened girl, running to look into the water, but she saw nothing of the cat. Neither could she see the dolphin. She could see the dim light of the pirate’s ship, and it seemed quite near.
“Whatever shall I do?” thought Mary Frances. “I really believe I am going to cry.”
Just at that minute she heard a scratching on the side of The Good Ferry.
“Who’s there?” she whispered.
No answer came. Just another scratching.
“Who’s there?” she asked again.
“Me-ow!” came a faint voice.
Mary Frances could see better now, for her eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness.
“Is it you, Puss?” she asked, peering down into the water.
When she saw it was the cat, she quickly let down the rope ladder, and the cat climbed aboard, and fell in a wet heap at her feet.
She lifted him carefully and carried him to the steamer chair. She did not notice that something dropped from his mouth as she lifted him.
She dried his wet fur, and went to the dining-room to get him a drink of water. There she saw a bowl of beef tea, which she took to him. She fed him a little at a time with a medicine dropper which she had found in the bathroom.
At length he opened his eyes.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“Where is what?” asked Mary Frances.
“The lost story,” whispered the cat. “I carried it in my mouth. That is why I couldn’t answer you when you asked who was there.”
“I didn’t see it,” said Mary Frances.
“Oh, dear, oh dear!” exclaimed the cat. “It must be on deck! Let us look for it!”
“You are not able yet,” said Mary Frances. “Lie still! I will look! Was it a roll or a book?”
“It was a glass bottle,” said the cat, “and it may have rolled back into the sea—if that is what you mean by ‘was it a roll?’”
Mary Frances went down on her hands and knees.
She crept all over the deck, feeling for it in the darkness. After a while the cat helped.
They worked all night, but could find nothing. In the morning, as it grew light, they both saw a dark green bottle caught in the top of the rope ladder which was fastened to the side of the boat. So lightly was the bottle held that it might easily have fallen back into the water and been lost again.
Mary Frances lifted it carefully. It was labeled—The Lost Story.
The bottle was sealed with a cork, and inside was a roll of paper.
“Oh, isn’t it too good to be true!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “Where shall we hide it?”
“Let’s label it Catsup and put it on the side table in the dining-room,” said the cat. “Put the new label right over the old one,” he added.
“That’s a splendid idea!” cried Mary Frances. “I’ll do it right away!”