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He had no turn of speed, and stopped panting. He only saw Miss Blowser whisk into her cab, he only heard her yells that died in the distance. Mr. Fulton sped back into his house. He shouted for Mary: 'What's the matter with your mistress, with my cook? he raved. 'Somebody's taken her cat, sir, and is off, in a cab, and her after him. 'After her cat! D her cat, cried Mr. Fulton.
Blowser, the cook, who had come out of Devonshire with Mrs. But after the visit of Cavalcadour, the cook became quite discontented and uneasy in her mind. She talked in a melancholy manner over the area-railings to the cooks at twenty-three and twenty-five. She stepped over the way, and conferred with the cook there.
'She is fond of cats? said Merton; 'really this lady has sympathetic points: and he patted the grey Russian puss, Kutuzoff, which was a witness to these interviews. 'She dotes on the nasty things: and you may well say "lady!" Her Siamese cat, a wild beast he is, took the first prize at the Crystal Palace Show. The papers said "Miss Blowser's Rangoon, bred by the exhibitor." Miss Blowser!
'There's your cat, she said drily; 'it ain't stealing a cat to leave it, with money for its board, and to pay for advertisements, in a well-conducted charitable institution, with a duchess for president. And he even left five shillings to pay for the cab of anybody as might call for the cat. There is your money. Miss Blowser threw the silver away.
Apply to the Home for Destitute and Decayed Cats, Water Lane, West Hammersmith. 'Very thoughtful of the gentleman, said the matron of the Home. 'No; he did not leave any address. Said something about doing good by stealth. 'Stealth, why he stole my cat! exclaimed Miss Blowser. 'He must have had the advertisement printed like that ready beforehand.
Presently the maid said, 'Ma'am, Rangoon has jumped down, and is walking off to the right, after a gentleman. 'After a sparrow, I dare say, bless him, said Miss Blowser. Two minutes later she asked, 'Has Rangy come back? 'No, ma'am. 'Just look out and see what he is doing, the dear. 'He's walking along the pavement, ma'am, sniffing at something. And oh! there's that curate's dog.
'Of course not. 'No kidnapping Miss Blowser? 'Certainly no kidnapping Miss Blowser. 'Now, honour bright, is your plan within the law? No police-court publicity? 'No, the police will have no say or show in the matter; at least, said Logan, 'as far as my legal studies inform me, they won't. But I can take counsel's opinion if you insist on it. 'Then you are sailing near the wind?
When Miss Blowser returned, with her saucepan and Rangoon, she found her trunks in the passage, corded by Mr. Fulton's own trembling hands, and she departed for ever. Her chase had been a stern chase, a long chase, the cab driven by Trevor had never been out of sight.
'Rum country, England, said Logan, indignantly. 'You have no property in corpses. Merton was silenced. Neither could foresee how momentous, to each of them, the question of property in corpses was to prove. O pectora caeca! Miss Blowser is now Mrs. Potter. She married her aged wooer, and Rangoon still wins prizes at the Crystal Palace.
'Yelping little brute! I hope Rangy will give him snuff, said Miss Blowser. 'He's flown at him, cried the maid ambiguously, in much excitement. 'Oh, ma'am, the gentleman has caught hold of Rangoon. He's got a wire mask on his face, and great thick gloves, not to be scratched.
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