The Mystery of the Missing Cat

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  “And who to call about her,” added Henry, writing their phone number on his poster.

  The Aldens were good at making signs and posters. They soon had enough for the animal shelter and the veterinarian’s office and for the neighborhood where Spotzie was lost.

  They put the signs in their backpacks and got ready to go look for Spotzie.

  “You stay here, Watch,” said Violet. “I don’t think you want to go to Dr. Scott’s office.”

  “Watch can keep me company in the kitchen,” said Mrs. McGregor. “I may even have a dog biscuit for him.”

  Hearing the word “biscuit,” Watch trotted happily after Mrs. McGregor to the kitchen, wagging his tail.

  The Aldens set off on their bicycles to put the signs up around Greenfield, heading first for the Greenfield Animal Shelter.

  “Has anyone brought in a calico cat?” asked Henry when they got to the animal shelter.

  The shelter attendant behind the desk looked surprised. “A calico cat? That’s funny,” she said. “There was a man just here, describing a cat that he’d lost that sounded a lot like yours.” The attendant leaned over the counter and looked around, as if she expected the man to still be there. But the Aldens were the only ones in the waiting room.

  “I wonder if that was Mr. Woods,” Jessie said.

  “He didn’t tell me his name,” the attendant said.

  “Did you have his cat?” asked Violet carefully.

  The attendant shook her head. “No, and I’m sorry, we don’t have yours, either. No one has brought in a calico cat.”

  “Oh. Then, may we put this up on your bulletin board?” asked Jessie, showing the woman one of the signs they’d made.

  The woman nodded approvingly. “Of course you can.”

  “Thank you,” said Jessie. She took the sign over to the bulletin board and put it up right in the middle.

  “That’s a good sign. Very simple and clear,” said the shelter attendant. “If we get any cats fitting that description, we’ll call you.”

  “Thank you,” said Jessie again, and the other Aldens echoed her words.

  “It’s funny that there are two lost cats who look alike,” said Benny, as the Aldens went outside.

  “Unless it’s the same one,” Jessie said, lost in thought.

  The day was getting hot, and they began to push their bicycles slowly up the hill outside the shelter.

  “Hey, Jessie, slow down!” Henry called out.

  But Jessie didn’t seem to hear. She just kept walking faster and faster.

  “Jessie?” said Henry.

  Abruptly, Jessie stopped. “Let’s turn here,” she said.

  “But that’s not the way to Dr. Scott’s office,” said Violet.

  “Let’s go a new way,” said Jessie mysteriously.

  Puzzled, her brother and sister agreed and turned down the street Jessie had suggested.

  “Can’t we go more slowly?” panted Benny.

  Jessie looked back over her shoulder and stopped again.

  “We’re being followed,” she said.

  “What?” said Henry.

  “Don’t look,” Jessie said quickly. “But there’s a man back there. He started following us as soon as we came out of the animal shelter!”

  CHAPTER 4

  The Mysterious Stranger

  “What should we do?” asked Violet.

  “Let’s keep walking,” said Henry. “But not so fast.”

  The four children began to walk down the street, trying to act as if nothing was wrong.

  Jessie glanced quickly over her shoulder. “He’s still there.”

  “Why is he following us?” Benny asked.

  “I don’t know, Benny,” Jessie answered.

  “Why don’t we ask him?” suggested Benny.

  Jessie looked down at Benny. Suddenly she smiled. “You know, Benny, that’s not a bad idea. I think we should ask him.”

  “Oh, Jessie!” gasped Violet. “Really?”

  “What could happen? It’s the middle of the day and we’re on a street in the middle of town,” Jessie pointed out sensibly.

  “You’re right,” said Henry.

  The four stopped again and looked at one another.

  “Okay,” said Jessie, “let’s go.”

  The Aldens turned around and began walking back toward the man who was following them.

  For a moment, he stood in the middle of the sidewalk as if he didn’t know what to do. Then abruptly, he turned and began to run.

  “Come on!” shouted Jessie. She jumped on her bicycle and began to pedal after the stranger. The other children did the same.

  But it was no use. The man turned up a narrow alley, leaped over a low fence, and disappeared.

  The Aldens stopped by the fence, breathing hard. After they’d gotten their breath, they turned around and went back the way they’d come, heading for Dr. Scott’s office.

  “Did anybody recognize him?” asked Henry.

  Nobody had. It had been hard to tell anything about the mysterious stranger. He’d been too far away, and even though the day had gotten hot, he was wearing a hat, a coat, dark glasses, a scarf, and baggy pants. They couldn’t even tell whether he was fat or thin!

  “Maybe he has something to do with Spotzie,” said Jessie thoughtfully.

  “But what?” asked Violet.

  “I don’t know,” said Jessie. “I’ve just got a funny feeling.”

  The Boxcar children walked in silence for a while, thinking about what Jessie had said.

  The Aldens kept a careful watch for the mysterious stranger all the way to Dr. Scott’s office, but he never reappeared. When they got to the veterinarian’s office, her assistant said, “Dr. Scott is very busy right now.”

  At that moment, Dr. Scott walked out to the waiting room with a girl holding a small dog with a bandage on its paw.

  “And make sure she stays off that paw,” Dr. Scott said.

  “Thank you, Dr. Scott,” said the girl. She and the dog went out.

  Dr. Scott saw the Aldens and greeted them. “So you have a cat now, too?” she asked, seeing the sign Violet was holding.

  “Oh, no,” said Violet. “The cat belongs to someone else. We’re just helping find her.”

  “You can put the sign up on the wall over there.” Dr. Scott pointed. “I’ll keep an eye out for her, too. Good luck.”

  “Thank you,” said Henry. “By the way, Dr. Scott — has anyone else been in looking for a missing cat? A spotted one like Spotzie?”

  Dr. Scott shook her head. “No one.” A man came into the waiting room with a large, shaggy dog bouncing at the end of a leash. “Well, I need to get back to work. Good luck again.”

  The Aldens put the sign up on the wall and went back outside.

  “Lunchtime?” said Benny hopefully.

  “Not quite, Benny,” said Jessie. She looked back over her shoulder, but the mysterious stranger had not reappeared. “We need to go see if Mr. Woods has a picture of Spotzie. That would help our search.”

  The Aldens rode their bicycles over to Mr. Woods’s house. This time, when they got there, Mrs. Valentine opened the door when Henry knocked.

  She smiled. “Hello,” she said. “Come in.” She led the way to the kitchen. A short young woman with lots of curly red hair was sitting at the kitchen table.

  “This is my niece, Whitney,” said Mrs. Valentine. “Whitney, these are the Aldens: Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny.”

  “How nice,” said Whitney.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” said Henry politely.

  “I just made some cookies,” said Mrs. Valentine.

  “Cookies? I like cookies,” said Benny.

  Mrs. Valentine laughed. “I know you do, Benny. Mrs. McGregor has told me. Maybe you’d like some cookies now?”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Benny, promptly sitting down at the kitchen table.

  Everyone laughed. While Henry helped pour milk into glasses, Jessie and Violet joined Benny and Wh
itney.

  “We’ve been looking for Spotzie,” Jessie told Whitney.

  “Oh yes. Mr. Woods’s cat. I’ve been hearing about her from my aunt. Any luck?” asked Whitney.

  “Not yet,” said Henry as he gave each of the Aldens a glass of cold milk. “We’ve made some signs and put them up at the animal shelter and at Dr. Scott’s veterinary office and around town.”

  Mrs. Valentine put a plate of cookies warm from the oven in the middle of the table, and she and Henry sat down, too. “It’s very strange that the little cat disappeared like that off the front porch,” Mrs. Valentine said.

  “Maybe a dog came by and chased her off the porch while Mr. Woods was inside,” suggested Whitney.

  “A dog! We never thought of that,” said Henry. “We thought she might have seen something and chased it and gotten herself lost somehow.”

  “An interesting theory,” said Whitney, with a little smile. “You children are real detectives, aren’t you?”

  Benny didn’t seem to notice Whitney’s amused smile. “Yes,” he said, reaching for another cookie. “We’ve solved a lot of mysteries. Do you want to help?”

  “I’m kind of busy,” said Whitney, raising her eyebrows. “I’m afraid you children will have to solve the mystery without my help.”

  Jessie’s face turned red at Whitney’s tone, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned to Mrs. Valentine. “We were wondering if Mr. Woods had a photograph of Spotzie. We want it to show to people.”

  “I’m sure he must,” said Mrs. Valentine. “He’s not home right now, but I’ll asked him when he returns.”

  “Thanks,” said Henry. “Well, it’s time we were getting home.”

  The Aldens thanked Mrs. Valentine for the cookies and milk and said good-bye to Whitney.

  “Nice meeting you, children,” said Whitney. “Good luck with your little mystery.”

  The Alden children rode their bicycles slowly home.

  “I don’t think Whitney thinks we can solve the mystery,” said Jessie. “She’s nice, but she treated us like we were babies.”

  “Yes, but won’t she be surprised when we do find Spotzie,” answered Henry.

  “Then she’ll know we’re real detectives,” said Benny.

  “Yes, Benny,” said Jessie. “But even more important, Spotzie will be back home.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Is This Spotzie?

  The Aldens had just finished dinner. Jessie and Grandfather were playing checkers, while Henry read one of Benny’s favorite stories to him. Violet had been listening, too, when the phone rang.

  “I’ll get it,” she said. “Maybe it’s another phone call about the signs we put up for Spotzie.”

  Grandfather Alden nodded. “Too bad those other phone calls weren’t helpful.”

  Violet picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “This the missing cat number?” growled a husky voice at the other end.

  “Yes, it is,” said Violet.

  “Did you find her?”

  “Not yet,” Violet answered.

  The husky voice went on, “Well, I’m missing a cat, too, see? And it looks like yours, see? So if you find my cat, like if someone calls you and says they’ve found a cat like mine, I’ll give a reward. A big reward.”

  “What kind of cat?” asked Violet.

  “You just let me know about any lost cats you hear about, okay? Write to, uh, Mr., uh, Jones, post office box ninety-three, Greenfield. Got that?”

  “But . . .” Violet didn’t get to finish. Mr. Jones had hung up the phone!

  “Who was it, Violet?” asked Grandfather Alden.

  Violet told the Aldens about the strange phone call. Everyone was puzzled.

  “It sounded as if Mr. Jones wasn’t his real name,” said Violet. “Something about the way he said it sounded funny.”

  “But why would anyone call about a lost cat and use a phony name?” asked Jessie.

  “It’s another mystery!” exclaimed Benny.

  “Or part of the same mystery, Benny,” said Jessie.

  Just then, the phone rang again. This time when Violet answered it, a brisk voice said, “I believe I’ve found your cat.”

  “You have?” said Violet. Quickly she explained that they didn’t know exactly what Spotzie looked like. “We never met her. We’re helping find her for someone.”

  “Oh,” said the woman. “Well, I’m Professor Madison. You should come to my house tomorrow morning and get your cat.”

  Violet took Professor Madison’s address and told her that the Aldens would be over to see her as soon as possible the next morning.

  “Hillside Drive,” said Henry. “That’s a long way from where Spotzie and Mr. Woods live. How could a cat have gone so far?”

  Violet clasped her hands. “Do you think it’s Spotzie? I hope so.”

  “We’ll find out tomorrow, first thing,” Henry promised.

  The next morning, the Aldens rode their bicycles to the other side of Greenfield, where Professor Madison lived. She had a low, rambling house set back from the road in an old pecan orchard. The house was painted blue, with lots of windows that had dark blue shutters. The front yard was neatly trimmed, but in the orchard, wildflowers grew beneath the trees and the grass was tall.

  “I like this place,” said Benny as the Aldens walked up the brick walk to Professor Madison’s front door. “Look.”

  He pointed. In the window next to the door, a fat silver tabby cat sat, staring out at them.

  Professor Madison opened the door immediately. “You must be the Aldens,” she said quickly, before they could introduce themselves. She was a small, wiry woman wearing big silver hoop earrings and a big shirt over jeans. Her long dark hair was in a single braid down her back. “Come in.”

  She led the way down a wide hall to a sunny room at the back of the house. Behind them, the silver cat jumped down from the windowsill with a thump and followed.

  When the Aldens reached the back room, they stopped and stared in amazement. Cats were everywhere. Cats were sleeping in the sun in the windows, cats were playing with toys on the floor, cats were sitting on bookshelves and chairs and on tops of cabinets. There seemed to be dozens of them.

  “Wow,” gasped Violet.

  “My cat collection,” said Professor Madison. She walked over to a big armchair and reached down and picked up a cat. “Here’s your cat. I found her hiding in the bushes by my door a few days ago.”

  The Aldens looked at the cat in Professor Madison’s arms. She was a little cat with a white stomach and feet. She had a blanket of orange and black spots on her back and her face was orange and black, too, with one orange ear and one black ear. She gazed up at the Aldens with golden green eyes and began to purr.

  “What a nice cat,” said Violet. “Spotzie?” Violet reached out and petted the cat’s head, and the cat purred even more loudly.

  “Take her,” said Professor Madison. “Here. I have a cardboard cat carrier you can have.”

  “But we’re not sure she’s the right cat,” said Jessie.

  “Has anyone else found a spotted cat and called you?” demanded Professor Madison.

  “No,” said Jessie.

  “Then this is your cat.” Before anyone could answer, Professor Madison marched out. She returned a few minutes later with a small cardboard cat carrier with handles on top and airholes in the side.

  “Here,” said the professor and thrust the carrier into Henry’s arms.

  “But what if it isn’t Spotzie?” asked Benny.

  The professor didn’t answer. Instead, she led them back down the hall. “Thank you for coming,” she said, and opened the front door.

  The Aldens all looked at one another in surprise. At last Henry said, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Professor Madison, still holding the door open.

  The Aldens walked out and the professor closed the door firmly behind them.

  “That was strange,” said Jessie.

>   “Maybe she was just very busy and didn’t want to waste any time,” Violet suggested.

  “Spotzie?” asked Benny, bending down to look through one of the airholes in the cat carrier. The little cat inside meowed.

  “Do you think it’s her?” asked Violet. “Do you think she knows her name?”

  “There’s only one way to find out. We have to take her to Mr. Woods,” said Henry.

  Henry put the cat carrier in the large basket on his bike and carefully held it with one hand as he and the others rode back to Mr. Woods’s house. As they walked up the front steps, Henry said softly, “Look! That curtain moved again.”

  They stopped in front of the door. Violet stepped back shyly. Henry raised his hand to knock. But he didn’t get a chance. The door opened.

  “Oh!” said Violet in surprise.

  A man with shaggy brown hair, wearing wire-rimmed glasses, loose khaki pants, and a rumbled blue shirt stood there.

  “Who are you?” he asked harshly.

  The Aldens introduced themselves and explained that they had been looking for Spotzie. Mr. Woods listened without smiling.

  Then Henry held up the cat carrier. “We think we might have found Spotzie,” he said.

  For one moment, Mr. Woods’s whole face changed. He looked like a different person. A happy person. He grabbed the box from Henry and opened it.

  His face changed back to its grumpy look. “No! That’s not Spotzie! Spotzie is much, much prettier! How could you make such a stupid mistake?”

  Suddenly Violet spoke. “We didn’t know,” she told Mr. Woods. “How could we know if we don’t know what Spotzie looks like?”

  “Much prettier!” Mr. Woods was almost shouting.

  But Violet answered bravely, “If you could give us a picture of Spotzie, that would help.”

  Mr. Woods looked at Violet and frowned. “Wait here,” he ordered rudely. Then he turned and walked back in the house.

  He came back holding a small photograph. For a moment, he stood staring down at it. His grumpy expression changed to a sad one. “Smart,” he said softly. “A smart little cat.”

  He looked up. “You know she could open any door, any latch? It was amazing to watch. And when I talked to her, she’d answer, just like she could understand what I was saying. She was special. Anyone could tell. Why, one day, when we were sitting on the porch, a complete stranger walked by and offered to buy her!”