The Cat MEGAPACK ®. Andrew Lang

the stoppage was in the tile. He didn’t have time to work on it then, but got to work Tuesday morning. These nippers were down the drain and they aren’t the plumber’s.”

      Julie frowned at the pliers.

      “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”’

      “Plenty. Maybe you saw in the papers that somebody worked on the lock on Charley Pedlow’s door. That’s a snap lock. When you slam the door it locks, but the key isn’t much. You could reach through the keyhole with nippers like these, get hold of the key, and twist it from the outside. That’s what was done. Nipper marks on the tip of the key.”

      “But—”

      Julie checked herself in time. She had been about to say that the person who had worked on Charley Pedlow’s lock had been frightened away by her arrival, and that after the prowler had left, Uncle Charley had been very much alive.

      The prowler couldn’t have returned with the nippers because he had dropped them when Julie’s arrival had surprised him. That was the metallic ringing she had heard—the pliers bouncing from the stoop. And then she had heard a duller sound, which was the pliers falling into the open drain.

      The chief regarded Julie carefully, his eyes bright and sharp. “You’ve never seen these nippers, I suppose?”

      Julie shook her head. “We haven’t any tools around here except a hammer to hang pictures with. My husband is absolutely helpless mechanically.”

      The chief smiled broadly and hoisted himself out of the chair.

      “Guess I don’t have to bother you any longer,” he said. “Many thanks.”

      When he was gone, Julie was left small consolation. The police were on the wrong track. But suppose they made an arrest—some guiltless person who might have been trying to break into Charley Pedlow’s house but who had certainly not killed Uncle Charley? What would Julie do then?

      She went into the bedroom, threw herself face down on the bed. There was a cool breeze blowing through the window. It played with her ruddy curls, caressed her hair as Harvey sometimes did. Julie smiled faintly into her pillow, thinking of Harvey, and gradually the worried tenseness left her body.…

      “Me-ow!”

      Julie propped herself up on elbows, eyes wide awake, staring into darkness. She had fallen asleep. She had been dreaming about cats.

      The cry came again. This was no dream. She sat up stiffly on the edge of the bed, looked out the window. There was a baleful flash of green eyes in darkness, a scampering of small feet. Another pair of eyes stared eerily out of the darkness, and then another.

      Julie rushed to the light switch, snapped it on. For a moment she leaned against the wall, her heart doing crazy things that made her gasp.

      She listened to the patter of paws outside her window, heard the rattling of shrub branches. Not just one cat, several cats. Her flesh began to crawl, and a nervous trembling shook her body. She went to the bedroom door and in front of her lay the blackness of the living room. She plunged into that blackness, ran to the living room light switch, pushed it on. And then to the front door to snap on the porch light.

      Opening the front door, she stood there trying to determine if the light had frightened the cats away. It hadn’t. A sleek black cat bounded up the porch steps, rubbed head and neck on the porch rail, greeted her with a friendly yowl.

      “Skat!” Julie whispered without making an impression on the black cat.

      She stepped onto the porch intent on chasing the cat away. Suddenly she stopped a yard from the door. A stifled cry fled to her lips and was never uttered. Out there on the front lawn were six more cats—calico cats, tigers, a white cat, the unmistakable gray Tom cat with one eye.

      All of Uncle Charley’s cats were out there in front of her house. Julie’s mind took a sickening backward lurch, recalling what Harvey had said about cats: “They’ll go to anybody who feeds them.”

      Julie flung up a hand to her forehead as though to stop the dizzy whirl of her brain, as though to tear aside the smothering veil of blackness that descended before her eyes.

      * * * *

      “Julie!”

      Someone was shaking her. The acrid fumes of ammonia burned her nostrils. She didn’t open her eyes right away. She didn’t want to come back.

      “Julie, the police—”

      Her eyelids snapped open. She was on her front porch, and the arms of little Dr. Palet were around her. The veterinarian’s watery blue eyes were fixed strangely on her face. “You must have fainted,” Dr. Palet whispered. “You’ve got to snap out of it.”

      Julie’s gaze shifted to the top of the porch steps. The white cat was there, washing its face. At the other end of the porch, a tiger and the half-grown calico were brawling amicably.

      “Can you stand up, Julie?”

      “I—I can try.”

      She tried, the doctor holding her tightly all the while.

      “My car’s waiting,” he said. “I’ve got to get you out of town.”

      “Out of town?”

      “Yes. The police. Someone saw you going into Charley Pedlow’s house Monday night. They’re coming to arrest you for murder. I just heard. There’s not a moment to lose.”

      Julie’s frightened eyes went back to the cats. She shivered in the doctor’s arms.

      “All right,” she agreed dismally. “I’ll go.”

      “No one will know,” Dr. Palet said. “Mrs. Palet’s gone to the movies. We’ve got to hurry. Understand?”

      “Yes.”

      Dr. Palet hurried her off the porch. His car stood in the drive between the two houses, its front door open. He all but lifted her in, slammed the door, then hurried around the front of the car to get in under the wheel. He backed out of the drive, nosed the car north.

      It was the only thing to do, Julie decided. Hide out of town until Harvey could come to her.

      The car flashed by the city limits, ripped off the main highway into a narrow twisting road. Dr. Palet’s right hand left the wheel long enough to shyly pat her arm.

      “Don’t be afraid, Julie,” he said.

      “I’m not,” she said. “This is sweet of you. You know of somewhere I can hide overnight?”

      “Yes.”

      “And you’ll telegraph Harvey as soon as you get back?”

      Dr. Palet laughed shortly. “I’m not going back!”

      Julie looked sharply at the doctor’s small-featured face.

      “And you’re not going back either,” he added. “We’re going away together. Didn’t you know that?”

      He jerked the wheel recklessly and the car slowed around a steep curve.

      “What do you mean?” she gasped.

      “I mean just what I said.” His laugh was reckless, and his voice was hoarse with emotion. His bright eyes were frightening. “Harvey doesn’t love you—not as I do. And you won’t be able to come back without facing a murder charge. I’ll take care of you. I’ll have lots of money. Charley Pedlow’s will, you know. He showed it to me. A hundred thousand dollars left to me to take care of his cats.”

      Julie put her hand on the latch of the door. She spoke calmly though her heart was hammering wildly.

      “I think you’d better stop right here and let me out, Doctor.”

      “Don’t be silly. You’ll go to the chair.”

      “I’ll take my chances.”