II


As for Omar Ben, he sat in the healthy grime of the garden soil, his mind
a prey to the poison of glittering promises, till suddenly a human fell
upon him with an absurd French shriek and bore him away to the lap of
comfort and a scented bath.

In the bath he yowled; and wept when another lavender bow was tied about
his neck; and yet, had Mlle. Frenchy observed him carefully, she might
have caught him smiling.

All day long he dozed and dreamed--dreamed of the vulgar world beyond
the wall--for now it seemed to his pampered soul that the pole star of an
earthly cat's desire was "frawgs."

At the humans' dinner-time he scorned their expensive fare and sneaked
away into the shadows of the garden to wait for Ringtail Pete and the
rising of the moon. It rose; and, as it peeped above the wall, there also
rose a cautious signal-wail, and Pete's one eye glowed green among the
ivy-vines.

"Hi, spote!" grinned the owner of the eye, as Omar Ben clawed his way to
a perch beside him. "Yer clumb dat wall in a way dat make me proud. Now,
den, we're off!"