“Next door to the Gross farm. You know where that is; heard you were out there with the sheriff after the suicide. It’s the farm east of theirs; Loursat has the one to the west.”
“Thanks, Ed. I’ll drop in on my way home to find out. You run that ad, though, unless I tell you not to. So long.”
When he did his shopping, Doc bought two cans of cat food. One can was surely enough for a cat that size for two days so two cans would run him until he let the cat out to see if it would stay around and come back, or would run away.
From the drugstore he phoned Miss Talley to ask her whether she was still sure she’d be done by Thursday noon, and whether she’d learned anything new. Yes, she was sure she’d be finished by the time she’d predicted, and no, she’d learned nothing interesting; she wouldn’t have much chance to put or keep her ear to the ground until she’d finished the typing.
And, she wanted to know, had he found a cat at his house? He told her about the cat and about his decision in connection with it.
On his way home he stopped at the farm east of the Gross farm. There were two cats on the front porch. Both were about the same size as the gray one and could easily be from the same litter.
A plump, friendly woman answered his knock on the door.
“I’m Ralph Staunton,” he told her. “I live in the last house down the road. I—”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ve heard your name, and I’ve seen you drive past. Won’t you step in?” She moved back to make way for him.
“I might as well, but just for a moment. It’s nothing very important, Mrs. Kramer. I hear you have a gray cat. I’ve found one, about the size of those two cats on the porch and I wondered—”
“Oh, yes. I hadn’t seen him for a day or two and wondered if anything had happened to him.”
“Nothing has, except that he wandered into my house. Thought I might like to keep him. Would you consider selling him?”
She laughed. “Sell him? Oh, goodness no. But you can have him if you want him. We’ve got three other cats —our old cat had a litter of six last time and we were able to find homes for only three of them. And she’s going to have another litter soon.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid after that we’re going to get rid of her or take her to the vet and have her spayed. Else we’ll be drowning in cats.”
“Thanks a lot,” Doc said. “I’ll be glad to take him, and I’ll promise to find a home for him when I leave at the end of the summer—or take him back with me if I can’t. That is, if he stays with me.”
“But I thought you said—”
“I’ve got him shut in the house right now, to see if he’ll get used to it and to me and want to stay. But I can’t do that forever so in a few more days I’ll have to let him out—and we’ll have to see whether he’ll want to stay with me or come back to you. I can’t very well keep him against his will; cats are very independent people.”
“Oh dear. I guess you’re right, but I do hope he’ll stay with you. His name is Jerry, by the way.”
“Not any more, if he stays with me,” Doc said. “I’ve given him a new name. I call him Cat.”
Mrs. Kramer laughed.
The cat must have heard Doc Staunton coming because it was waiting inside the door and tried to get past him, but he managed to catch it. “No, Cat,” he said, this time taking it up in his arms and kicking the door shut with his foot. “I explained that to you; you’re in stir for a few days. Then you can make up your mind whether you want to keep on being Cat with me, or go back to being Jerry with the Kramers. I know who you are now, you see.”
He put it down on the sofa and stood looking down at it. “Or do I?” he added softly.
It wasn’t until he went to open a window wider and remembered in time not to, that it occurred to him that he’d forgotten to check on getting screens fitted while he was in town. Well, he’d be in town again tomorrow; one day wouldn’t matter.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
One day didn’t make the slightest difference, it turned out, on his ordering the screens. He went into town again the next day, Thursday, and saw Hank Purdy, the town’s only really good rough carpenter. He learned that Hank had more work than he could handle for at least a week. He promised to come out later the following week, take measurements and make an estimate. Doc might have found someone else who could do the job sooner, but he liked Hank, whom he knew from the poker games in the back room at the tavern, and decided he’d rather wait and have Hank do the job. After all, he wasn’t going to keep the cat shut up more than another few days, and after that the house would be in no more immediate need of screens than it had been all along. Besides, the weather was mild and having the windows as they were now, each of them raised about two inches, provided plenty of ventilation.
He parked the station wagon in front of Miss Talley’s little house. She must have seen him stopping there, because she had the door opened before he reached it.
“Come in, Doctor. All ready for you. Sit down, and I’ll bring the manuscripts. And my notebook.”
“Thanks, Miss Talley, but I don’t think I’m going to dictate those two letters today. I’ve decided I want a few days to think things over before I send them. And I may as well wait to write until I’m ready to mail them; something else might happen and I can put any subsequent information in the letter.”
“All right, if you think so.” She picked up a large brown envelope and gave it to him. “Want to read this now anyway?”
He shook his head. “Might as well read it at home. I’d rather talk a few minutes, if you’ve time.”
She had time, she told him. He told her about the cat. “I started out being scared of it, or about its being there.” He laughed. “You and your talk about possession did that to me, I suppose. But now I feel just the opposite. I hope it sticks around; it keeps me from getting lonesome, I think it’s a perfectly normal cat, Miss Talley.”
“And Buck was a perfectly normal dog, until he ran under your car. In spite of what you say, Doctor, I’m a little worried about its living there with you. I suppose it’s silly of me, but—I do worry.”
“I’ll be all right, Miss Talley. I’m afraid I’m beginning to think we both went a bit overboard on this.”
“Possibly, Doctor… Will you promise me you’ll send those letters, and the reports, to the two friends you mentioned?”
Doc sighed. “All right, I’ll send them. Just want a couple of days to think it over first.”
“All right. For the rest of this week I’ll be staying home, that is, early afternoons; so any day you want to come and dictate them… ”
That evening after he had finished washing the dishes he went into the living room and sat on the sofa; the cat was already there and he reached over and stroked its sleek fur. The cat purred.
“Well, Cat, getting to like it here? And to like me? Let’s see; this is Thursday evening. Let’s set a date for giving you your choice, a date and an hour. How does Monday strike you? Let’s see; I’ve been feeding you about the middle of the afternoon. I’ll let you go out—if you still want to go out—about the middle of the morning. That’ll give you time to think it over before you get hungry again.
“If I go into town I won’t stay long, I’ll go when I let you out, and be back by noon. Waiting and ready to feed you if you come back. Fair enough?”
The cat didn’t answer, but it still purred.
Doc said, “If it relieves a worry on your part, the Kramers gave you to me; they don’t want you back. Oh, they’ll take you if you want to go home to them. They’ll feed you, and forgive you.
“Yes, I know who you are, and that your name was Jerry there. Might have kept that name if another male cat had come with you. I’d have called him Tom. Tom and Jerry. Ever tasted one? They’re good. But that’s irrelevant. Which are you going to prefer, the Kramers or me?”
He got up and took a comfortable chair facing the sofa. He stared at the cat from across the room.
“Cat, why
