Johnny snorted, fairly snorted. "If," said he,
"you think my father keeps his money where we
can get it, you are mistaken, Arnold Carruth. My
father's money is all in papers that are not worth
much now and that he has to keep in the bank
till they are."

Arnold smiled hopefully. "Guess that's the way
my papa keeps HIS money."

"It's the way most rich people are mean enough
to," said Johnny, severely. "I don't care if it's
your father or mine, it's mean. And that's why
we've got to begin with Jim Simmons's cats and
kittens."

"Are you going to give old Mrs. Sam Little cats?"
inquired Arnold.

Johnny sniffed. "Don't be silly," said he.
"Though I do think a nice cat with a few kittens
might cheer her up a little, and we could steal enough
milk, by getting up early and tagging after the milk-
man, to feed them. But I wasn't thinking of giving
her or old Mr. Payne cats and kittens. I wasn't
thinking of folks; I was thinking of all those poor
cats and kittens that Mr. Jim Simmons has and
doesn't half feed, and that have to go hunting
around folks' back doors in the rain, when cats hate