Part 15 (1/2)

I wish you could have seen Fluff lap up the milk, which was warmed for him and put in a saucer on the floor of the automobile. He was hungry--was the little stray kitten that had come down out of the evergreen tree--and his little sides seemed to swell out like balloons as he lapped up every drop of milk.

”I hope your cat Choo-Choo won't get hungry,” said Jan, as the last of the milk disappeared.

”I can get him some more,” said the agent. ”Anyhow, he isn't as hungry as your p.u.s.s.y was.”

”Good-bye!” called Uncle Toby, as he started off once more. ”I hope the stalled pa.s.sengers will soon be shoveled out.”

”I guess they will be,” the agent said.

It was almost dark when the big automobile reached the village of Pocono where Uncle Toby lived.

”Now we'll soon be snug and warm,” he told the children. ”I have more of a load than when I started, but I'm glad I found you two,” he said to Mary and Harry. ”You're going to have a good time with my Curlytops.”

Harry and Mary, who had never had much of a good time in all their lives, were beginning to be happy. They had been very small when their father went off to war--they hardly remembered him, in fact. Mr. Benton need not have gone, had he wished to stay at home, for he could have been excused, or have done some other war work than fighting. But he was a brave man and wanted to do his best for his country. So he had gone to France. After awhile he was missing, and though his wife was helped by her friends and by the government, still she had hard work to get along and there was not much money with which to give Mary and Harry good times. But happier days were ahead of them.

”There's Uncle Toby's house!” cried Ted, as the automobile turned into the driveway.

”Oh, but something has happened!” exclaimed Jan. ”Look! There's a crowd out in front!”

And surely enough, a throng of people could be seen standing in the dusk and storm in front of Uncle Toby's home.

CHAPTER X

AMONG THE PETS

As the automobile driven by Uncle Toby and containing the Curlytops and their playmates came to a stop near the side entrance to Mr. Bardeen's house, the door opened, letting out a stream of light on the white snow.

”Is that the police?” asked a voice which Ted remembered as that of Mrs.

Watson, or ”Aunt Sallie,” as Uncle Toby called her.

”No, this isn't the police,” Uncle Toby answered, through the half-opened door of the car that Ted had unlatched, ready to leap out.

Aunt Sallie did not seem to know Uncle Toby's voice, for she asked another question.

”Is it the firemen then?”

”Good gracious!” cried Uncle Toby, opening the automobile door wider, so that a swirl of snow drifted in. ”What in the world is the matter? Why do you want the firemen and policemen, Aunt Sallie?”

”Oh, thank goodness! It's you, is it, Uncle Toby?”

”Yes! Yes!” was the quick answer. ”You stay in the car a moment, children,” said Mr. Bardeen, as he got out on the side of the steering wheel. ”Something must have happened. I'll see what it is.”

Just then the crowd, which stood partly in the street and partly in the yard of Uncle Toby's house, but up at the farther end, away from the driveway, gave a shout.

”There he goes!” cried several voices.

”What can have happened?” exclaimed Janet, greatly excited.