"Well, I'll come in and put on my shoes," said Joe, with a smile. "I
didn't need the gloves," he added. "Peter was very gentle."

"Oh, he's a good cat!" said his mistress. "And now," she added, when Joe
had resumed his shoes and coat, "will you please tell me your name and
how you learned to walk wires and rescue cats?"

"I never rescued cats before," Joe returned, smiling. "It's something
new. But walking wires is my trade--or one of 'em. I'm with the circus.
I do some tricks and--"

"Oh, are you the man who gets out of the box?" she cried. "I have read
about that trick."

"It is one of mine," said Joe modestly.

"I'm so glad to know you!" exclaimed the woman. She seemed less of a
recluse than at first. "I haven't been to a circus for years--not since
I was a child," she continued, half sadly, Joe thought. "But I'm coming
to-night!" she exclaimed. "I'll have the janitor look after my cats and
dogs, and I'll go to the circus. I want to see you act. It will bring
back my lost youth--or part of it," she murmured.

"Allow me to make sure that you will be there," said Joe. "Here is a
reserved ticket. I will look for you."

"And now let me give you the reward I promised," begged the woman, as
Joe was about to leave. "I have the money here--in cash," she added
quickly. She went to a bureau, putting Peter down on a cushion. The cat
observed Joe intently. The woman came back with a roll of bills.

"No, really, I couldn't take it!" protested Joe. "I didn't save your cat
for money. I was glad enough to do it for the animal's sake."

"Please take it!" she urged. "I--I am well off, even if I live here,"
she said hesitatingly. "I shall feel better if you take it."

"And I shall feel better if you give it to the Red Cross," said Joe.
"That needs it, to help the stricken, more than I do. I make pretty good
money myself," he added. "And I didn't do this for a reward."

"But I promised it!"

"Well, then consider that I took it, and you, in my name, may pass it on
to the Red Cross," said Joe. "And now, may I ask your name?"

The woman told him. It was Miss Susan Crawford. The name meant nothing
to Joe, though he afterward learned she was a member of an old, wealthy
and aristocratic family. She had had an unfortunate love affair, and,
her family having all died, she made for herself a little apartment in
one of her many buildings and lived there with her pets--a recluse in
the midst of a big city. It was a pathetic story.