Read Online Anton and Cecil, Book 2 by Lisa Martin - Free Book Online Page A

and colorful chickens scattered ahead of the train as it barreled across the land. Humans often stopped their work and watched its progress from one horizon to the other, sometimes raising a hand in greeting. Anton wondered if they made an odd picture: two cats, one black and one gray, sitting side by side in a boxcar doorway, gazing out at the world as the train rolled steadfastly by.
    It was cooler in the breeze at the doorway, though not much. Between naps, Anton sat with his tail curled around his front paws and pondered the brown and green fields, mile after mile. It had only been three days of traveling, and though the carriage could be sweltering at times, the duck-billed hat man brought them water and food whenever the train stopped, so at least they weren’t starving. Even so, Anton felt uneasy. He was beginning to doubt the reliability of the mouse network.
    â€œYou know what we will never see out here?”
    Cecil shook his head. “A nice crab dinner?”
    â€œA whale,” said Anton. “There will never be a whale out here, because as far as I can see,” he gestured with a paw, “there is no ocean.”
    â€œThat’s okay. You can’t really eat a whale, anyway.”
    Anton sighed. “But we need one if we’re going to figure out ‘between the whale and the coyote’ to find Hieronymus.”
    â€œOh. Right. Don’t worry about that, we’ll find him.” Cecil stuck his head all the way out so his fur rippled in the breeze.
    â€œYou’re going to fall,” Anton warned, carefully leaning away from the open door. “You’ll hit your head on something out there.”
    â€œIt feels good!” called Cecil, his voice warbling in the draft. He turned to face forward, his eyes squeezed almost shut. “Hey, I see something.”
    â€œWhat is it? Wait, let me guess. You see an endless field of waving grass.”
    â€œNo. Well, yes, there’s that. But also there’s—” Cecil’s voice was carried off by the wind.
    â€œWhat?” yelled Anton.
    Cecil pulled his head back inside the carriage. “There’s a town up ahead, looks like a fairly big one. I bet we stop there.”
    The brothers stepped over to the heap of straw in the far corner and burrowed behind it. A stop usually meant men coming on board to load and unload cargo. Sometimes the men were friendly and sometimes they were not, so it was better to hide. The train slowed and finally pulled to a halt with a last great sigh of steam. From outside the carriage came the sounds of a lively town—shouts, barks, bells, rolling cart wheels, even a thread of music, perhaps from a nearby saloon. Mixed in with the scents of metal and smoke from the train were the strong smells of horses, dirt-packed roads, and food cooking.
    Cecil squirmed in the straw. “I hope the man brings us one of those things with the meats and cheeses smashed inside the bread,” he murmured. “I like those.”
    â€œShh,” whispered Anton. “Someone’s coming.”
    The duck-billed man climbed through the doorway and spoke.
    â€œFellas?” he called softly. “This is as far as we go.”
    Anton and Cecil poked their heads out of the straw and looked at the man expectantly. He gestured with his thumb, holding it sideways in the air and waving it.
    â€œWhat’s he saying?” asked Cecil.
    â€œDon’t know,” said Anton. “Something about his paw.”
    The man took a few steps toward them, and the cats saw with disappointment that he’d brought them no food this time.
    â€œCome on, now,” said the man gently. “End of the line.” He raised and lowered both arms in a sweeping motion toward the open door. The cats’ eyes followed the flapping arms.
    â€œMaybe he’s telling us about something outside,” Cecil suggested.
    â€œLike a bird?”
    â€œLike one of those