Soo Lee was waiting by her bicycle at Dr. Scott’s office when the Aldens got there the next morning. They had brought Watch with them to keep his mind off the strange cat who was living in his house.
Watch had followed happily on his leash, but when he saw where they were going, he stopped and sat down.
“Come on, Watch,” said Henry.
Watch looked at Henry. Then he looked at Dr. Scott’s office building. At last he got up and walked over to Henry.
“Good dog, Watch,” said Henry. He bent down and petted Watch’s head. Soo Lee came over and petted Watch’s head, too. Watch slowly wagged his tail.
The Aldens and Soo Lee went into Dr. Scott’s office.
“May we see Dr. Scott?” asked Jessie.
“Is Watch sick?” asked Dr. Scott’s assistant. She leaned over the counter to look down at Watch. Watch heard his name and looked up at her.
“No,” said Henry. “We put that sign up the other day.” He pointed to the sign about Spotzie on the bulletin board in Dr. Scott’s office. “But no one has called. We thought Dr. Scott might have some ideas that would help us find Spotzie.”
“Oh, yes. The missing cat.” The assistant nodded. “Let me check and see if Dr. Scott can see you.”
A moment later the assistant came back out. “Dr. Scott said to come on back to her office,” she told the Aldens. She held the door open and the Aldens walked down the short hall past the examining rooms to Dr. Scott’s office.
When the Aldens and Soo Lee came in, Dr. Scott set aside the papers she was looking at. “Hello,” she said, smiling. “What can I do for you today?”
“Watch isn’t sick,” Benny explained quickly.
“My assistant told me it wasn’t about Watch. She mentioned the missing cat. You still haven’t found her?”
“Not yet,” said Jessie. “We were hoping you might have some ideas.”
Dr. Scott rubbed her chin. “Hmmm. You’ve checked the animal shelter?”
“Yes,” said Henry. “We put a sign up there, too. But no one has brought in a lost cat like Spotzie.”
“And you’ve looked all around where Spotzie was last seen?”
“Yes,” Jessie answered Dr. Scott. “We talked to everyone at every house on the street.”
“Spotzie wasn’t wearing a collar with an identification tag, was she?” asked Dr. Scott.
“No,” said Henry.
Dr. Scott shook her head. “It’s very important for pets to wear collars and identification tags.”
“Even cats?” asked Benny.
“Even cats,” said Dr. Scott. “There are even special stretchy collars for cats. If the cat climbs a tree and the collar gets caught, the cat can slip loose without being hurt.”
“Wow,” said Benny. “When we find Spotzie, we’ll have to tell Mr. Woods.”
“That’s a good idea, Benny,” said Dr. Scott. “Let me think … oh, yes. Do you know who Mr. Allen is?”
“No,” said Henry. “Who is he?”
“A cat lover,” said Dr. Scott. “He owns purebred cats and shows them in cat shows.”
“Like dog shows?” asked Benny, remembering the dog show that had recently come to Greenfield and the mystery the Aldens had solved then.
“Sort of like dog shows,” said Dr. Scott. “Mr. Allen is a specialist and a cat collector. He might be able to help. I’ll give you his number.”
Dr. Scott looked up Mr. Allen’s phone number and wrote it down on a piece of paper.
“Thank you,” said Jessie, carefully folding the paper and putting it into the pocket of her jeans.
“Good luck,” said Dr. Scott. “Let me know what happens.”
“We will,” said Violet.
The Aldens and Soo Lee went back to the Aldens’ house. Jessie called the number Dr. Scott had given them.
A man with a soft voice answered the phone.
Jessie explained who she was and why she had called. “Dr. Scott told us we should call you. She said you might be able to help,” Jessie said.
Mr. Allen hesitated. Then after a long moment he said, “Well, I don’t see how I can, but if you’d like to come over, you may.” He told Jessie where he lived and hung up before Jessie could say thank you.
“I don’t think he wanted to talk to us,” said Jessie, hanging up the phone. She told her brothers and sister and Soo Lee about the conversation.
“Well, even if he didn’t want to, he said he would,” said Henry, when Jessie had finished. “We’d better get going before he changes his mind.”
“You’ll have to stay here, Watch,” said Violet. “Mr. Allen has lots and lots of cats and you don’t even like having one in your house.”
Watch sat down as if he understood what Violet had said.
“Good dog, Watch,” said Benny.
Saying good-bye to Watch and Mrs. McGregor, the children got their bicycles and pedalled over to Mr. Allen’s house.
Like Mr. Woods’s house, Mr. Allen’s house was at the end of a street. But it was very different. A high hedge surrounded the house so it could not be seen. Gates stood open on either side of the gravel driveway. The driveway was lined with neat flower beds.
As they rode their bicycles up the long driveway, the Aldens saw gardeners at work, one cutting the grass, another weeding the flower beds.
The enormous front door was made of dark polished wood. When Jessie knocked, a tall man with a stern expression answered.
“Mr. Allen?” asked Jessie.
“I am Mr. Allen’s butler. Is Mr. Allen expecting you?” answered the butler.
“Yes,” said Henry. “We called Mr. Allen about a missing cat.”
The butler nodded his head slightly, then lifted his chin so that he seemed to be looking down his nose at the five children. “Walk this way, please,” he said.
He led them down a long hall and into a room with a desk at one end. The room was lined with books. “I will inform Mr. Allen you are in the study.”
“Wow,” said Violet after the butler had left. “He’s like a butler in the movies!”
“Do you think he likes his job?” asked Benny. “He didn’t smile at all.”
Henry shook his head. “Maybe butlers aren’t supposed to smile, Benny.”
“What a strange job!” exclaimed Benny.
Just then the door opened and a small round man wearing a dark blue suit with a red bow tie came in. He had a small mustache and thinning hair combed over a bald spot on the top of his head. He stopped near the door and peered at the Aldens over the top of his half-glasses.
“Yes?” he asked in a soft voice. “How do you think I can help you?”
“Mr. Allen?” asked Jessie again.
“I am he,” said the man. “You must be the Aldens.”
“Yes,” Jessie said. Quickly she and the others introduced themselves.
“I don’t see how I can help you with a missing cat,” said Mr. Allen. “All of my cats are here where they should be. I assure you, I would know if any cats were around that didn’t belong.”
Jessie stepped forward and held out the photograph of Spotzie. Mr. Allen bent and squinted down at it without taking the picture out of Jessie’s hand.
“This is the lost cat, I presume,” he said after a lengthy silence.
“It is!” burst out Benny. “Spotzie. She’s lost and we have to find her so we can take her home.”
“I wish I could be of help, young man. But my cats are registered purebreds, very valuable. Not a cat like this one.”
“No spotted cats?” asked Benny.
“No.” Mr. Allen shook his head, then hesitated. Finally he said, “Why don’t you come see for yourself.”
Once again, the Aldens found themselves following someone through the mansion. This time, Mr. Allen led them to a long, luxurious room.
Benny’s eyes got very large when he saw the room. Like the back room at Professor Madison’s house, it was filled with cats. But the room and the cats were very different.
The room seemed as big as Professor Madison’s whole house. It was lined with cages. Most of the cages had the doors open so that the cats could come and go as they pleased. Every cage was elaborately decorated like a little house, with windows that had curtains. There was a nameplate on each door. Dishes with food and water sat in front of each cage. On the dishes were names that matched the nameplates on the cage doors. Toy mice and scratching posts and little balls and all kinds of cat toys were scattered everywhere.
A dainty silver cat with dark brown markings on her head, paws, and tail jumped down from atop a cat house and ran lightly toward them. She wound herself in and out between Mr. Allen’s legs as he tried to walk.
Mr. Allen laughed and bent over to pet her. “There you go, Blue. This is Blue. She’s a chocolate-point Siamese.”
“Oh! Her eyes are blue,” said Benny. “Is she still a kitten?”
“No, Siamese have blue eyes their whole lives,” Mr. Allen told Benny.
“What kind of cat is that?” asked Soo Lee, pointing to a big white cat with long hair and a mashed-in face that made it look unhappy.
“That’s Ralph. He’s a champion longhaired Persian,” said Mr. Allen, picking up the cat and stroking his luxurious fur. “In fact, all my cats are champions. However, some, like Blue, are retired. But as you can see, I have no cats like yours.”
“You have so many different kinds!” exclaimed Jessie.
“My goal is to have at least one of every breed. And I very nearly do,” said Mr. Allen, looking proud. “Cats are amazing creatures.”
“I like cats, too,” said Benny. “I like your cats. And Spotzie.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” said Mr. Allen. He led them back out of the cats’ room and toward the front door. “Your cat is an ordinary cat, though, so it would be unlikely I would have her, don’t you think? All my cats are rare and expensive.”
“Every cat is special in its own way,” said Violet loyally. “Including Spotzie.”
Mr. Allen looked at Violet in surprise. A funny look came over his face. Then he said, “I’m sure she is,” and led them all to the front door. He opened it. “If I hear anything at all about your cat, I’ll certainly get in touch.”
“Thank you,” said Henry, and the five Aldens left.
No one said anything as they rode their bicycles home. There was nothing to say. Mr. Allen hadn’t been able to help after all. They had seen lots of interesting cats, but they were no nearer to finding Spotzie than they’d been when they first started looking. |