THE SIAMESE CAT
charge him here? No: well, that might not be wise, anyway. You promise? Thank you—Then, let me take Chao Phya home to-night, and keep him. No, there's no danger, in a hotel full of people. So that's settled; and now, tell Mr. Sanders privately, without fail, just enough to show that you were frightened last night. So that he'll have a boy or two sleep in your verandah and the Sikh on close watch. Good!"
Mr. Sanders peeped waggishly round the lamp.
"Aha!" he exclaimed, "I thought it was very quiet this side! Mr. Scarlett, you've forgotten to drink your stengah, and we're on the second. This is bad!"
Scarlett had man's natural contempt for cats; but as he lifted Chao Phya to the carriage cushions, he felt not ungrateful to this solemn, green-eyed puzzle.
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