THE SIAMESE CAT
be a cat? See, there was nothing in this shop—
"Five dollars," cried Owen. "Come! Hurry!"
The Pinwallah of Calcutta reconsidered the possibilities. Perhaps his neighbor Nabook had seen the cat, perhaps stolen one, for Nabook was a bad man. He would go see. Ten dollars, however, would hardly make Nabook restore any possible cat—
But just then, while Owen fumed, he heard a thin, silvery jingle within. "Oh, zoolum!" cried the shopkeeper: what violence and stronghand! for Owen had shoved him aside, plunged through the smoke, and torn open the door of the inner chamber.
Brown hindquarters and a ruffled tail struggled over the edge of the little window, and vanished.
For the first time, Scarlett paused to reason. To give up,—if Ho Kong had told the truth—was to renounce all sight of a fabulous trea-
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