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there, in that case. And I told her.”
    â€œThe truth?”
    â€œThe whole truth. And don’t make it sound like a red-hot iron. Sooner or later it would have to come out. I told her everything about Huppy—finding him, losing him, finding him again, his growing so fast—the works, ending up with Mr. Smedley being our only hope.”
    â€œYou told her about me, too?” said Tucker. “What did she say?”
    â€œShe said, ‘Hmm!’ and sniffed.”
    â€œWell, I say, ‘Hmm!’ and sniff right back!”
    â€œWhen I got to the part about Huppy living up there, she looked at me as if I was crazy. ‘What?’ she said, aghast. ‘A dog? Residing here? With me and Horatio? It simply won’t do!’ She was going to go on, but just then Horatio himself got back with the milk. Miss Catherine said that if I wished ‘to pursue this nonsense,’ I should hide in the music room while they had dinner. Mr. Smedley always goes to bed early. And when he had gone to bed, and she and I were pursuing the nonsense, I found out that she is thirteen years old.”
    â€œThat’s old for a cat, isn’t it?” asked Tucker.
    â€œPretty old,” admitted Harry, “but she’s got grit. After all, I could really have been a burglar and beaten her up.” He paused. “On the other paw, I think she might have won a cat fight at that. Anyway, she’s thirteen, she belonged to Mr. Smedley’s mother, she likes her drop of perfume now and then—but she also likes to go out for an outing, even on winter afternoons. That’s rare, because Siamese cats hate the cold. He takes her to Riverside Park. All that I found out after dinner. During dinner I found out something much more important. Mr. Smedley is not in charge of his own apartment. Miss Catherine Cat is! She’s got the guy wrapped around one ear. You should have heard him. ‘Would Miss Catherine like—’”
    â€œWait a minute,” said Tucker. “She refers to him as Horatio and he calls her Miss Catherine?”
    â€œThat’s the kind of cat she is,” said Harry. “But sometimes, in a gush of love, he also calls her Puss-puss.”
    â€œ Puss -puss!”
    â€œâ€˜Does Puss-puss crave more lovely cube steak? Does Puss-puss thirst for a bit more milk?’”
    â€œYich!” Tucker Mouse grimaced disgust. “Sick-making! That’s one guy who really needs a dog.”
    â€œSick-making or not, them’s the facts.”
    â€œEnough of facts! When does Huppy move up?”
    â€œAre you crazy!” shouted Harry. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? She will not hear of it! I wheedled her all last night, and I wheedled her all today while Mr. Smedley and some very untalented little boys banged away at those pianos—and all I got was permission to come back again and talk. Pursue the nonsense! An hour ago she showed me the back door to ‘my apartment.’ The door didn’t close completely, and the two of us managed to pry it open. ‘The servants’ entrance,’ she explained. ‘In future please use this. I believe in the basement you’ll find a window ajar. Good day.’”
    â€œThat’s how she says goodbye?”
    â€œThat’s how she doesn’t say goodbye.”
    Tucker sat a minute silently, except for some growling—which sounded, in his case, more like a squeak beneath the breath. “Well—I’m not sure I want Huppy living there anyway.”
    â€œYou have any better ideas?”
    Tucker didn’t. “This is great!” he said. “This is really great. On the one paw we have Max, with his pack of four-legged gangsters, and on the other, two old maids—Horatio Smedley and Catherine Cat.”
    â€œ Miss Catherine,” Harry sweetly corrected him.

SEVEN
    Pursuing the Nonsense
    A few weeks later Tucker Mouse was fuming,