ad as that wan is before th' funeral comes off? Sure, I do believe th'
ixpriss company has doubts av Mike Flannery's ability t' tell is a cat
dead or no. Mebby 'tis thrue. Mebby so. But wan thing I'm dang sure av,
an' that is that sh'u'd the weather not turrn off t' a cold wave by
to-morry mornin' 't will take no coroner t' know th' cat is dead."

He opened the letter again and reread it. As he did so the scowl on his
face increased. He held up the letter and slapped it with the back of
his hand.

"'Kape it carefully in your office,'" he read with scorn. "Sure! An'
what about Flannery? Does th' man think I'm t' sit side be side with
th' dead pussy cat an' thry t' work up me imagination t' thinkin' I'm
sittin' in a garden av tuberoses? 'Tis well enough t' say kape it, but
cats like thim does not kape very well. Th' less said about th' way they
kapes th' betther."

[Illustration: "_''Tis well enough t' say kape it, but cats like thim
does not kape very well'_"]

Timmy entered the office, and as he passed the box he sniffed the air
in a manner that at once roused Flannery's temper.

"Sthop that!" he shouted. "I'll have none av yer foolin' t'-day. What
fer are ye puckerin' up yer nose at th' cat fer? There's nawthin' th'
matther with th' cat. 'Tis as sound as a shillin', an' there 's no call
fer ye t' be sniffin' 'round, Timmy, me lad! Go about yer worrk, an'
lave th' cat alone. 'Twill kape--'twill kape a long time yet. Don't be
so previous, me lad. If ye want t' sniff, there 'll be plinty av time by
an' by. Plinty av it."

"Ye ain't goin' t' keep th' cat, are ye?" asked Timmy with surprise.

"Let be," said Flannery softly, with a gentle downward motion of his
hands. "Let be. If 'tis me opinion 't w'u'd be best t' kape th' cat fer
some time, I will kape it. Mike Flannery is th' ixpriss agint av this
office, Tim, me bye, an' sh'u'd he be thinkin' 't w'u'd be best fer th'
intherists av th' company t' kape a cat that is no longer livin', he
will. There be manny things fer ye t' learn, Timmy, before ye know th'
whole av th' ixpriss business, an' dead cats is wan av thim."

"G'wan!" said Timmy with a long-drawn vowel. "I know a dead cat when I
see one, now."

"Mebby," said Flannery shortly. "Mebby. An' mebby not. But do ye know
where Doc Pomeroy hangs out? Go an' fetch him."

As Timmy passed the box on the way out he looked at the cat with renewed
interest. He began to have a slight doubt that he might not know a dead