“If he doesn’t come to that,” thought Brown, “he is a brute.”  And aloud:  “If you could only let him see you; he sits there blinking at me.”

“Do you think he’d come if he saw me?”

“Who wouldn’t?” thought Brown, and answered, calmly:  “I think so....  Of course, you couldn’t get up here.”

“I could....  But I’d better not....  Besides, I live only a few houses away—­Number 161—­and I could go through into the back yard.”

“But you’d better not attempt to climb the fence.  Have one of the servants do it; we’ll get the cat between us then and corner him.”

“There are no servants in the house.  It’s closed for the summer—­all boarded up!”

“Then how can you get in?”

“I have a key to the basement....  Shall I?”

“And climb up on the fence?”

“Yes—­if I must—­if it’s necessary to save Clarence....  Shall I?”

“Why can’t I shoo him into your yard.”

“He doesn’t know our yard.  He’s a country cat; he’s never stayed in town.  I was taking him with me to Oyster Bay....  I came down from a week-end at Stockbridge, where some relatives kept Clarence for us while we were abroad during the winter....  I meant to stop and get some things in the house on my way back to Oyster Bay....  Isn’t it a perfectly wretched situation?...  We—­the entire family—­adore Clarence—­and—­I-I’m so anxious——­”

Her fascinating underlip trembled, but she controlled it.

“I’ll get that cat if it takes a month!” said Brown.  Then he flushed; he had not meant to speak so warmly.

The girl flushed too.  I am so grateful....  But how——­”

“Wait,” said Brown; and, addressing Clarence in a softly alluring voice, he began cautiously to crawl along the fences toward that unresponsive animal.  Presently he desisted, partly on account of a conspiracy engaged in between his trousers and a rusty nail.  The girl was now beyond range of his vision around the corner.

“Miss—­ah—­Miss—­er—­er—­Betty!” he called.

“Yes!”

“Clarence has retreated over another back yard.”

“How horrid!”

“How far down do you live?”

She named the number of doors, anxiously adding:  “Is Clarence farther down the block?  Oh, please, be careful.  Please, don’t drive him past our yard.  If you will wait I—­I’ll let myself into the house and—­I’ll manage to get up on the fence.”

“You’ll ruin your gown.”

“I don’t care about my gown.”

“These fences are the limit!  Full of spikes and nails....  Will you be careful?”

“Yes, very.”

“The nails are rusty.  I—­I am h-horribly afraid of lockjaw.”

“Then don’t remain there an instant.”

“I mean—­I’m afraid of it for you.”

There was a silence; they couldn’t see each other.  Brown’s heart was beating fast.

“It is very generous of you to—­think of me,” came her voice, lower but very friendly.