He stopped again.  Another reminder from Miss Hunniwell was necessary to make him continue.

“And you sold one of those kittens for five dollars?” she cried.

“No-o.”

“You didn’t?  Why, you foolish man!  Why not?”

“I never had a chance.  Afore I could say a word Nate Rogers spoke up and said the kittens belonged to him.  Then she saw another one that she hadn’t seen afore and she says:  ’Oh, that one has more unusual colorin’s even than this.  I never saw such color in a cat.’  Course she meant on a cat but we understood what she meant.  ‘Are they a very rare breed?’ she asked.  Nate said they was and—­”

Miss Hunniwell interrupted.  “But they weren’t, were they?” she cried.  “I never knew they were anything more than plain tabby.”

Jed shook his head.  “Nate said they was,” he went on solemnly.  “He said they were awful rare.  Then she wanted to know would he sell one for five dollars.  He said no, he couldn’t think of it.”

“Why, the greedy old thing!”

“And so he and she had it back and forth and finally they struck a bargain at seven dollars for the one that looked most like a crazy quilt.”

“Seven dollars for a cat?  What color was it, for goodness’ sake?”

“Oh, all kinds, seemed so.  Black and white and maltee and blue and red and green—­”

“Green!  What are you talking about?  Who ever saw a green cat?”

“This woman saw one that was part green and she bought it.  Then she said she’d take it right along in her car.  Said she had a friend that was as loony about cats as she was and she was goin’ to fetch her right down the very next day.  And a couple of hours after she’d gone Nate and his boy came back with a clothes basket with a board over the top and loaded in the balance of the family and went off with ’em.  I ain’t seen a hair of ’em since—­no, I won’t say that quite, but I ain’t seen them.”

“And didn’t he give you any of the seven dollars?”

“No-o.”

“But you had been feeding those kittens and their mother for weeks.”

“Ye-es.”

“But didn’t you ask for anything?”

“We-ll, I told Nate he might maybe leave one of the kittens, so’s I could have a—­er—­souvenir of the visit, but he wouldn’t do it.  Said those kittens was rare and—­er—­precious, or words to that effect.  He didn’t intend to let another go as cheap as he had that one.”

“Oh. . . .  I see.  I remember now; I heard some one saying something, early in July, about the sign on the Rogers’ front fence.  ‘Rare Cats for Sale’ they said it was.  I think.  Of course, I never thought of those kittens.  He must have sold them all, for the sign isn’t there now.”

Jed whistled a few bars.  “I don’t hardly think he’s sold ’em,” he said.  “I presume likely he’s just gone out of the business.”