"Yours, is it? Well, I don't blame you, boy, for bringing dat cat
along. An' say," and the porter leaned down to the frightened Freddie,
"it's against orders, but I'd jest like to take dis yer kitten back in
de kitchen and treat him, for he's--he's a star!" and he fondled Snoop
closer.

"But I didn't know it was wrong, and I'll put him right back in the
box," Freddie whimpered, not quite understanding the porter's
intention.

"Well, say, son!" the porter exclaimed as Mr. Bobbsey came up. "What do
you say if you papa let you come back in de kitchen wid me? Den you can
jest see how I treat de kitty-cat!"

So Freddie started off after the porter, who proudly carried Snoop,
while Mr. Bobbsey brought up the rear. Everybody along the aisle wanted
to pet Snoop, who, from being a little stowaway was now the hero of the
occasion. More than once Freddie stumbled against the side of the big
seats as the cars swung along like a reckless automobile, but each time
his father caught him by the blouse and set him on his feet again,
until at last, after passing through the big dining car, the kitchen
was reached.

"What you got dar? Somethin' fer soup?" laughed the good-natured cook,
who was really fond of cats and wouldn't harm one for the world.

Soon the situation was explained, and as the porters and others
gathered around in admiration, Snoop drank soup like a gentleman, and
then took two courses, one of fish and one of meat, in splendid
traveler fashion.