{"id":1806,"date":"2026-01-03T21:50:57","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T21:50:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/the-cat-who-29-the-cat-who-had-60-whiskers-braun-lilian-jackson\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T21:50:57","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T21:50:57","slug":"the-cat-who-29-the-cat-who-had-60-whiskers-braun-lilian-jackson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/the-cat-who-29-the-cat-who-had-60-whiskers-braun-lilian-jackson\/","title":{"rendered":"The Cat… Who 29 – The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers – Braun, Lilian Jackson"},"content":{"rendered":"
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<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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THE CAT WHO HAD 60 WHISKERS<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Lilian Jackson Braun<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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THE CAT WHO HAD 60 WHISKERS<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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G. P. PUTNAM\u2019S SONS<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Publishers Since 1838<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Published by the Penguin Group<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA \u2022 Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) \u2022 Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England \u2022 Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen\u2019s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) \u2022 Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) \u2022 Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India \u2022 Penguin Group (NZ), Cnr Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) \u2022 Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Copyright \u00a9 2007 by Lilian Jackson Braun<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author\u2019s rights.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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ISBN: 1-4295-0320-3<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author\u2019s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Dedicated to Earl Bettinger,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The Husband Who\u2026<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Contents<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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PROLOGUE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER ONE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER TWO<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER THREE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER FOUR<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER FIVE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER SIX<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER SEVEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER EIGHT<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER NINE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER TEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER ELEVEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER TWELVE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER NINETEEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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CHAPTER TWENTY<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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To Earl, my other half\u2014for his husbandly love, encouragement, and help in a hundred ways.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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To my research assistant, Shirley Bradley\u2014for her expertise and enthusiasm.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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To Becky Faircloth, my office assistant\u2014who\u2019s always there when I need her.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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To my editor, Natalee Rosenstein\u2014for her faith inThe Cat Who \u2026from the very beginning.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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To my literary agent, Blanche C. Gregory, Inc.\u2014for a lifetime of agreeable partnership.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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To the real-life Kokos and Yum Yums\u2014for their fifty years of inspiration.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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THE CAT WHO HAD 60 WHISKERS<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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PROLOGUE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Overheard at an alfresco party in Moose County, 400 miles north of everywhere:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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WOMAN IN BLUE SHETLAND SWEATER:\u201cI have never heard of such a thing! And I\u2019ve been a veterinarian for twenty years!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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MAN WITH LARGE MOUSTACHE:\u201cWhat can I say? I counted them myself.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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WOMAN:\u201cYou might have miscounted.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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MAN:\u201cWould you like to count them yourself? If I\u2019m right, you can report the evidence to a scientific journal. If I\u2019m wrong, I\u2019ll take you to dinner at the Mackintosh Inn.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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WOMAN:\u201cFair enough! We\u2019ll do it the next time you bring him in for a dental prophylaxis.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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ONE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The man with the large moustache (a well-groomed pepper and salt) was Jim Qwilleran, columnist for theMoose County Something and transplant from Down Below, as locals called the metropolitan areas to the south. They themselves, for the most part, were descended from the early settlers, and they had inherited the pioneer fortitude, sense of humor, and appreciation of individuality.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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They enjoyed the Qwill Pen column that ran twice weekly\u2026accepted the fact that he lived alone in a converted apple barn, with two cats\u2026and admired his magnificent moustache.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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James Mackintosh Qwilleran had entertained several ambitions in his youth Down Below: first to play second base with the Chicago Cubs, then to act on the Broadway stage, and later to write for theNew York Times. He had certainly never wanted to be the richest individual in the northeast central United States! How it happened was a tale \u201cstranger than fiction.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cAunt Fanny\u201d Klingenschoen probably knew what she was doing when she made him her sole heir.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran established a philanthropic organization: the Klingenschoen Foundation, which went to work improving the quality of life in Moose County. Medical, scholastic, cultural, and infrastructural improvements were made possible by the K Fund, as it was known to one and all.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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To everyone\u2019s surprise, other old-moneyed families were inspired to put their fortunes to work for the public good. A music center, two museums, and a senior recreation facility were in the works.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Everything\u2019s going too smoothly, Qwilleran thought, with the pessimism of a seasoned newsman. \u201cWhat\u2019s your fix on the situation, Arch?\u201d he asked his old friend from Chicago.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Arch Riker was now editor in chief of theSomething. He shook his head morosely. \u201cWhen there\u2019s so much money floating around, somebody\u2019s gonna get greedy.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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(Visitors from far and wide\u2014in formal attire\u2014had paid five hundred dollars a ticket for a preview of the mansion, called the Old Manse.)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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It was a late evening in August. Qwilleran and the cats had been enjoying a cozy evening in the barn. He had read to them from theWall Street Journal, and they all had a little ice cream.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The barn was an octagonal structure of fieldstone and weathered shingles more than a century old. Indoors, all the old wood surfaces and overhead rafters had been bleached to a honey color, and odd-shaped windows had been cut in the walls.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Where once there had been lofts for storing apples, now there was a ramp winding around the interior, with balconies at three levels.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Later in the evening, the Siamese deserted the reading area and chased each other up and down the ramp, then dropped like flying squirrels onto the sofa on the main floor. The living areas were open-plan, surrounding a huge fireplace cube, its stacks rising to the roof forty feet overhead.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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It was almost elevenP .M., and Koko and Yum Yum were being unduly attentive; it was time for their bedtime snack.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Proceeding in slow motion, to tantalize the anxious cats, he rattled the canisters of Kabibbles and dusted off their two plates with exaggerated care. They watched hungrily. Koko appeared to be breathing heavily.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Suddenly Koko switched his attention to the wall phone that hung between the kitchen window and the back door. He stared at it for a minute, twitching his ears nervously.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran got the message. By some catly intuition, Koko knew the phone was going to ring. After a few seconds it rang. How did that smart cat know? Guessing that it would be Polly Duncan, the chief woman in his life, Qwilleran answered in a facetiously syrupy voice: \u201cGood evening!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWell! You sound in a good mood,\u201d she said in the gentle voice he knew so well. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cNothing much. What are you doing?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cShortening my new dress a couple of inches.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWhoo-ee!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Ignoring the comic wolf whistle, she went on, \u201cIt\u2019s much too long, and I thought I\u2019d wear it with some Scottish accessories Sunday afternoon, since the party\u2019s celebrating Dr. Connie\u2019s return from Scotland. Would you consider wearing your Highland attire, Qwill?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Although he had once rebelled at wearing what he called a \u201cskirt,\u201d he now felt proud in a Mackintosh kilt with a dagger in his knee sock. After all, his mother had been a Mackintosh.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWhat was Connie doing in Scotland? Do you know?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cShe earned her degree from the veterinary school in Glasgow twenty years ago, and she goes back to visit friends. Did you know her cat has been boarding with Wetherby?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cNo! How does he get along with Jet Stream?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cConnie introduced them when Bonnie Lassie was a kitten, and now Jet Stream acts like her big brother. And,\u201d she went on, \u201cConnie brought Joe a lovely Shetland sweater as a thank-you for boarding Bonnie Lassie.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cDo you realize, Qwill, that the Shetland archipelago, where the wool comes from, has a hundred islands!\u2026A hundred islands!\u201d she repeated when he failed to respond.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cIt boggles the mind,\u201d he said absently, watching the Siamese trying to get into the Kabibbles canister.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWell, anyway, I thought you\u2019d like to hear the latest.\u00c0 bient\u00f4t, dear.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201c\u00c0 bient\u00f4t.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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After the Siamese had finished their bedtime repast and their washing up, Qwilleran escorted them up the ramp to their quarters on the top balcony. They looked around as if they had never seen it before, then hopped into their respective baskets and turned around three times before settling down.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Cats. Who can understand them? Qwilleran thought, as he quietly closed their door.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Returning to his desk at ground level, he wrote about it in his private journal. He was a compulsive writer! When not turning out a thousand words for the Qwill Pen column, he was writing a biography or history of interest in Moose County. And he always filled a couple of pages in his private journal. On this occasion, he wrote:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I\u2019ve said it before, and I\u2019ll say it again: Koko is a remarkable cat! Is it because his real name is Kao K\u2019o-Kung, so he knows he\u2019s descended from the royal Siamese?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Or is it because\u2014as I insist\u2014he has sixty whiskers?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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He knows several seconds in advance when the phone is going to ring\u2014and also whether the caller is a friend or a telemarketer selling life insurance or dog food.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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When crazies bombed the city hall window boxes, Koko knew ten minutes in advance that something dire was going to happen. Why didn\u2019t someone read his signals? The police chief was sitting here having a nightcap, and neither of us got the message!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Oh, well! We can\u2019t all be as smart as a psychic Siamese!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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TWO<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran was a well-known figure in downtown Pickax: tall, well built, middle-aged, always wearing an orange baseball cap. He responded to casual greetings with a friendly salute and took time to listen if someone had something to say. There was a brooding look of concern in his eyes that made townsfolk wonder. Some wondered if there had been a great tragedy in his life. His best friends wondered, too, but they had the good taste not to pry. Once he had been seen to help an old lady cross Main Street. When observers commended him for his gallantry, he said, \u201cNo big deal! She just wanted to get to the other side.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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At Lois\u2019s Luncheonette, where Qwilleran went for coffee and apple pie and the latest scuttlebutt, customers would say, \u201cHow\u2019s Koko, Mr. Q?\u201d Humorous mentions about Koko and Yum Yum in the Qwill Pen were awaited by eager readers.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Moose County was said to have more cats per capita than any other county in the state. In Lockmaster County, horses and dogs were the pets of choice.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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In cold weather, when the converted barn was hard to heat, Qwilleran moved his household to Indian Village, an upscale residential complex on the north edge of Pickax. There, four-plex apartments and clusters of condos had features that appealed to career-minded singles and a few couples. There was a clubhouse with a swimming pool, meeting rooms, and a bar. There were walking paths for bird-watching along the banks of a creek. And indoor cats were permitted.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The cluster called the Willows had four rather notable occupants: the manager of the Pirate\u2019s Chest bookstore, a doctor of veterinary medicine, the WPKX meteorologist, and\u2014at certain times of the year\u2014a columnist for theMoose County Something.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Also in residence were six indoor felines: Polly Duncan\u2019s Brutus and Catta; Dr. Connie Cosgrove\u2019s kitten, Bonnie Lassie; Wetherby Goode\u2019s Jet Stream; and Jim Qwilleran\u2019s Siamese, Koko and Yum Yum, well known to newspaper readers.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Wetherby Goode (real name Joe Bunker) had a yen for party-giving and a talent for entertaining at the piano. He played \u201cFlight of the Bumblebee\u201d and \u201cThe Golliwog\u2019s Cakewalk\u201d without urging at pizza parties on Sunday afternoons.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Dr. Connie\u2019s return from Scotland was a good excuse for assembling the residents of the Willows.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The guest of honor was wearing a Shetland sweater in a luscious shade of blue. The host was wearing the taupe sweater she had brought him from Scotland, and there were Shetland scarfs for Polly and Qwilleran.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cConnie, may I ask why you chose to get your degree in Scotland?\u201d Qwilleran asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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She said, \u201cThe vet school at University of Glasgow is internationally known\u2014and has been for many years. It\u2019s noted for teaching excellence and research. Early studies of animal diseases later resulted in advances in human medicine.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Wetherby sat down at the piano and played a medley of songs fromBrigadoon with the flourishes that were his trademark.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran recited Robert Burns\u2019s poem \u201cA Man\u2019s a Man for All That.\u201d Toasts were drunk. And then the pizza was delivered.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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During the meal there was plenty of talk: mostly about Hixie Rice, who was promotion director for the newspaper and a resident of Indian Village. She was masterminding the new senior center on a pro bono basis\u2026. She had worked so hard on the Fourth of July parade, and then it was rained out by the hurricane\u2026and then vandals had trashed the front of the city hall after she had done wonders in beautifying it. As for romance, she had been unlucky.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran, who had known Hixie Down Below and had been instrumental in her coming to Moose County, had little to say.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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She was unlucky, that was all. She was talented, spirited, and a tireless worker\u2014but unlucky. There was a Hixie jinx that followed her, and now she was charged with the responsibility for the new senior center.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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TheSomething had announced a contest to name it, with an entry blank printed on the front page.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Joe Bunker said, \u201cThat was very clever of theSomething. To make three entries, you have to buy three papers.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran said, \u201cYou weathermen are too smart, Joe. We thought no one would notice our scheme.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Polly said, \u201cThe official ballot box has been in the bookstore, and it created a lot of traffic. Judd Amhurst kept moving it around so the carpet wouldn\u2019t wear out in one spot. Judd retired early from his job with Moose County Power, and he still had plenty of pep. He\u2019s manager of the Lit Club and he volunteers at the animal shelter, where he washes dogs.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWhat\u2019s next on the program at the Lit Club?\u201d Qwilleran asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cThere\u2019s a retired professor in Lockmaster who\u2019s an authority on Proust, and he\u2019s coming to lecture\u2026. It would be nice, Qwill,\u201d Polly said, \u201cif you\u2019d put him up at the barn for one overnight.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran said, \u201cI\u2019m sure it would make a good perk in addition to the modest stipend you can afford. Koko has been making aerial attacks. On ailurophobes. I hope this speaker likes cats.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The foursome moved to the deck for coffee and Polly\u2019s homemade chocolate brownies. Jet Stream accompanied them on a leash, because of the recent scare about rabid wildlife. There had been a time when cats were free to visit the creek and watch the fish and birds. Now there was evidence of rabid skunks, raccoons, and foxes. What had happened?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Joe explained, \u201cToo many house pets are getting mixed up with rabid wildlife!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Polly said she had never understood the nature of rabies.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cAn infectious disease common to some forms of wildlife,\u201d Dr. Connie said. \u201cIt\u2019s transmitted through the saliva when rabid animals get into fights with household pets and bite them. The best safeguard is the leash or the cage. Otherwise they\u2019ll see something move on the bank of the creek and be off for some fun!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran said, \u201cWe never had rabid animals in downtown Chicago\u2014only kids with slingshots and careless truck drivers.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Then Qwilleran broached the subject of Koko\u2019s sixty whiskers, and Dr. Connie said, \u201cI can\u2019t imagine that Koko was enthusiastic about your counting them.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran said, \u201cI gave him a mild sedative that is used in the theater when cats are to be onstage.\u201d He was the first to say he had to go home and feed the cats. The women said the same thing. As a farewell, Joe sat down at the piano and played \u201cKitten on the Keys\u201d very fast!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Someone said, \u201cWe must do this again soon,\u201d and everyone agreed.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Qwilleran escorted Polly to Unit One and went in to say good night to Brutus and Catta, as he always did.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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After Joe\u2019s fast pace at the piano and after the nonstop friendly chatter, Qwilleran welcomed a quiet evening with the Siamese. Driving home, Qwilleran remembered growing up in Chicago and hearing his mother play \u201cKitten on the Keys\u201d\u2014and marveling at how her fingers flew over the keyboard. Now Joe Bunker played it twice as fast! Where did he get his nervous energy? He grew up in the town of Horseradish, inhaling all those powerful fumes. Joe had a cousin with a Ph.D. in corvidology, and she was as wacky as he was.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Entering the barnyard, he saw Koko cavorting in the kitchen window. He knew what that meant.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Two cats\u2014Where\u2019s our dinner? We\u2019re starving!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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One cat\u2014There\u2019s a message on the phone.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The call was from Judd Amhurst, one of the three judges assigned to select a new name for the facility.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cQwill! We\u2019ve got the name! And it\u2019s perfect! It\u2019ll be in tomorrow\u2019s paper, but if you can\u2019t wait, give me a call.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Judd lived at the Winston Park apartment complex\u2014just across from the bookstore where the judging was scheduled to take place.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Never comfortable with unanswered questions, Qwilleran phoned him immediately. \u201cJudd, don\u2019t keep me in suspense!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWell, Maggie, Thornton, and I met in one of the community rooms at the bookstore big table! Bushels of entries! We started reading them aloud. Most were ordinary. Some were silly. A few had possibilities. Then Thornton read one from Bill Turmeric of Sawdust City\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI know him!\u201d Qwilleran interrupted. \u201cHe writes clever letters to the editor.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll like this one! It\u2019s complete with a motto!\u201d Then he read: \u201cSenior Health Club\u2014Good for the Body, Good for the Mind, Good for the Spirit.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cSign me up!\u201d Qwilleran said. \u201cAm I old enough?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI thought you\u2019d like it, Qwill. We sorted through all of them, but this was the best.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the prize?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThe paper\u2019s giving two hundred dollars, and there are gift certificates from merchants.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWell, thanks for tipping me off. I\u2019ll devote Tuesday\u2019s column to the Old Hulk\u2014Its Past and Future.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran started making notes for his Tuesday column:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Feed-and-seed warehouse. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Served farmers for more than a century. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Called the Old Hulk. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Typical warehouse: flat roof, no windows, loading dock. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Interior: nothing but open space with lofts for sacks of feed and seed, connected by ramps. In-town location no longer serviceable to today\u2019s farmers, who prefer more accessible outlets located at handy locations around the county. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Property vacant for several years. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Will need public entrances, windows, five floors connected by stairs and elevators, plumbing, electricity, and a lot of paint and carpet and ideas! <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Why not a roof garden? <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

In his journal he would write:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The Old Hulk was a piece of abandoned property on the north edge of Pickax, recently purchased by the Scottish community and given to the city as a senior center, along with a grant covering complete remodeling, redecorating, and furnishing.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

In the nineteenth century, Scottish shipbuilders had come to Moose County to build three-masted schooners using the two-hundred-foot pine trees for masts. When steam replaced sail, they turned to house building and did well, as attested by their mansions in Purple Point and their support of community projects. The senior center was to be their thank-you.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As for the property chosen, it had been a feed-and-seed depot and warehouse where farm wagons came to stock up. New modes of transportation had replaced it with several small depots around the county. The Old Hulk, as it was called, became a hangout for kids, feral cats, and who knows what else. Now, architects and builders were donating their expertise and theSomething was offering the coordinating services of Hixie Rice to the project pro bono.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Later that day, Qwilleran had a phone call from Hixie Rice.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cGuess what? The dog table is back!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Early in the year an heirloom auction had been staged to raise money for furnishing the new Senior Health Club. Old families donated prized possessions\u2014everything from porcelain teacups to rare items of furniture.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

One such was a six-foot library table of ponderous oak construction with bulbous legs at one end; the other end was supported by a life-size carving of a basset hound. It was donated by the office manager of theSomething, inherited from her wealthy father.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Everyone said: \u201cIt weighs a ton! Bet she\u2019s glad to get rid of it. Can she take it as a tax deduction? What\u2019s it worth?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

At the auction an unidentified agent made a sealed bid and won the table for\u2026ten thousand dollars! It left town on a truck for parts unknown.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Now the dog table was back!\u2026donated to the Senior Health Club by an unidentified well-wisher.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran asked, \u201cHow will it be used?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIn the foyer, which is quite large. It\u2019ll be a focal point, with magazines on top, and a table lamp\u2026. May be we should have a cat lamp! An artist could do a sculpture of a cat sitting on his haunches and holding the socket in his paws! Do you think Koko would pose? Everybody would come to see our dog table and cat lamp!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHang up!\u201d Qwilleran said. \u201cYou\u2019re hallucinating!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

THREE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran was half an hour late in serving breakfast to the cats on Monday morning. They attacked their plates as if they had been deprived of food for a week. At one point, though, Koko raised his head abruptly and stared at a spot on the kitchen wall. In a few seconds the phone rang, and he returned to the business at hand.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The caller was Lisa Compton, retired academic and wife of the school superintendent. She was also the chief volunteer at Edd Smith\u2019s Place, where preowned books were sold for charitable causes.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cQwill, a chauffeur from Purple Point just brought in a box of books that made me think of you.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThe statement raises questions,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll love them! They\u2019re all pocket-size hardcovers\u2014the kind they had before paperbacks. Convenient for reading to the cats\u2014and really quite attractive. Some have decorative covers and gold-printed titles on the spines.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhat kind of titles?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAll classics.Kidnapped, Lorna Doone, Uncle Tom\u2019s Cabin \u2026and authors like Guy de Maupassant, Henry James, and Mark Twain.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cDon\u2019t let them get away from you! I\u2019ll be right there!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cMay I make a suggestion? Since the box is rather large, you should park in the north lot and come to the back door. It leads right downstairs into Edd Smith\u2019s Place.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran liked Lisa. She always thought everything through\u2014not only selling him the books but figuring the easiest way of getting them to his car.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAnd by the way, Qwill, there\u2019s some Lit Club business to discuss. If you have time.\u201d She used a formal voice that indicated the other volunteers were listening. \u201cDo you have a few minutes?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Always interested in a little intrigue, he said, \u201cSee you in ten minutes.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Later, in the private meeting room, Lisa said in a low voice, \u201cThis is not for publication, but I\u2019m giving up volunteer work and taking a paid job as manager of the Senior Health Club.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWell!\u201d he said in astonishment. \u201cI\u2019m shocked\u2014and pleased! What does Lyle think about it?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHe thinks the club is very lucky to get me.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI agree!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a big job of coordination: scheduling activities, handling memberships, finding instructors, finding new ideas\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cLisa, you\u2019re the only one who can do it. Let me know if there\u2019s anything that I can do to help.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Famous last words, he thought on the way back to the barn. What am I getting into?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran collected Famous Last Words and had his readers contributing them too. Someday, he told them, the K Fund might publish a collection. There were examples like:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t need to take an umbrella\u2026. It\u2019s not going to rain.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThe Road Commission says the old wooden bridge\u2026is perfectly safe!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cLet\u2019s not stop to buy gas\u2026. We\u2019re only driving over the mountain.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

And for every gem that was printed, he gave the proud contributor a fat yellow lead pencil stampedQwill Pen in gold\u2014trophies that were treasured.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

To Arch Riker it was just a lazy columnist\u2019s way of letting his readers do all the work. The editor\u2019s huff was all an act, of course, Qwilleran told himself with a complacent shrug as the sacks of his fan mail filled the mailroom.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Qwilleran brought the boxful of books into the barn, Koko came running; Yum Yum came in a sedate second.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran placed the treasure trove on the bar, and Koko proceeded to go wild with excitement, a performance leading one to wonder where the books had been. When they were unloaded, however, it became evident that it was the box\u2014not the books\u2014that aroused the cat\u2019s interest.Interest was a mild word; Koko went berserk over the empty box, inside and out!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran called the ESP. \u201cLisa! Is it polite to ask who donated these books?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIs it polite to ask why you want to know?\u201d she asked teasingly.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cKoko wants to know. It\u2019s not the books that interest him so much as the box they came in.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt\u2019s large,\u201d Lisa said. \u201cMaybe he wants to set up housekeeping in it.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not only large\u2014but plain. Just a brown carton without any pictures of Ivory Snow or Campbell\u2019s Soup.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThat\u2019s funnier than you think, Qwill. The books came from one of the Campbell families in Purple Point.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI wonder where they acquired them. Do you know that family well enough to ask? Tell them Cool Koko wants to know its provenance.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThey\u2019ll love it! They\u2019re all fans of the Qwill Pen.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

With shelf space found for the books and a session of reading fromThe Portrait of a Lady, Koko calmed down. The box itself was in the shed along with rubbish and a few garden tools. A do-not-discard note was taped to it; its provenance remained a mystery.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As for Koko, he behaved like a normal house cat for the rest of the day until four o\u2019clock.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Late Monday afternoon, Qwilleran was lounging in his big chair when Koko suddenly appeared from nowhere and jumped to the arm of the chair. His lithe body was taut and his ears pointed toward the kitchen window.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Someone\u2019s coming! Qwilleran thought. The cat jumped down and ran to the kitchen, where he could look out the window from the countertop. Qwilleran followed him.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Outside the window was the barnyard\u2014and then a patch of dense woods and a dirt road leading to Main Street and several important buildings. Surrounding a traffic circle were two churches, the public library, a theater arts building, and the grand old courthouse.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran waited to see a vehicle coming through the woods. Nothing arrived, but Koko kept on watching. Qwilleran went back to his lounge chair.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

At that moment the kitchen phone rang. It was the attorney.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cQwill! This is Bart! I know this is short notice. Do you have a few minutes? I\u2019m phoning from the courthouse.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran was stunned into silence. Koko had known a call was coming from a building half a mile away!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cQwill, did you hear me? I said\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI heard you, Bart. Koko was diverting my attention, that\u2019s all. Come on over.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cTell Koko I have a treat for him.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYour Uncle George is coming,\u201d he told the cats.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Shortly, the attorney arrived and was joyously greeted by all.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The four of them proceeded single file to the conference table\u2014Qwilleran carrying the coffee, Bart carrying his briefcase, and the cats carrying their tails straight up.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Opening his briefcase, Bart said, \u201cMy wife sent a treat for the cats\u2014something she makes for our brats. They like the sound effects when they crunch it.\u201d He drew a plastic zipper bag from among the documents.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt\u2019s like Italian biscotti but with seasoning of particular interest to cats\u2014my wife says! She calls it biscatti.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Koko and Yum Yum were allowed to sniff the plastic bag, but it was too early \u201cfor their treat.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cWhile you\u2019re here, Bart, perhaps you could give me some information about the Ledfield house that\u2019s being opened as a museum. Not everyone knows it\u2019s called the Old Manse\u2014and has been for the last hundred years. I\u2019m wondering if Nathan Ledfield\u2019s grandfather had read Hawthorne\u2019sMosses from an Old Manse and incorporated any ideas from his reading. If so, it\u2019s a suggestion for the Qwill Pen.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWould you like a tour of the house?\u201d Bart asked. \u201cIt can be arranged.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Then he launched into an explanation of necessary changes in converting a private mansion to a county-owned museum.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNathan Ledfield had long employed two assistants: Daisy Babcock, who handled financial matters, and Alma Lee James, in charge of his collection of art and antiques\u2026. You may know her parents\u2019 art gallery in Lockmaster, Qwill. Alma Lee is very knowledgeable, and her connection with the gallery resulted in some very favorable purchases for the Ledfield collection\u2026. Is there more coffee?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As Qwilleran poured, he said, \u201cLeaving the mansion to the county must have entailed some drastic changes.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNot too drastic,\u201d the attorney assured him. \u201cAlma Lee has been named director of the museum. That involves training museum guides as well as supervising maintenance of the building. Daisy Babcock will act as her assistant, since the finances will be handled by an investment counselor appointed by the county.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThen I should see Miss James for a tour of the Old Manse,\u201d Qwilleran assumed.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYes, either she or Miss Babcock can show you around\u2026. If you\u2019ll pardon a little in-house gossip: Daisy Babcock resents being demoted to second-in-command. When Nathan Ledfield was boss, Daisy was his fair-haired girl! I wouldn\u2019t be surprised if she quits. She\u2019s married to one of the Linguini sons but uses her maiden name.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWise choice,\u201d Qwilleran murmured, reflecting that \u201cDaisy Linguini\u201d would be a fetching name for a trapeze performer but not so good for a financial secretary to a billionaire.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran asked, \u201cAre those the Linguinis who had the wonderful Italian restaurant?\u201d It was a mom-and-pop operation. If a customer was having a birthday, Papa Linguini would come out of the kitchen in his chef\u2019s hat, get down on one knee, fling his arms wide, and sing Happy B-ir-r-rthday in an operatic voice. \u201cApparently they retired.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYes, and their sons preferred to open a party store and plant a vineyard. They also want to open a winery, but the neighbors along the shore are objecting.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Before he left, Bart said, \u201cAbout visiting the Old Manse: Either of the women could show you around and answer your questions, but it might be politic to work with Alma James. Let me break the ice for you. I know she\u2019s been dying to see your barn\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHalf the Western world has been wanting to see my barn. That\u2019s okay. How do we go about it?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI could drive her over someday, then ease her out if she wants to stay too long.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cDoes she like cats?\u201d Qwilleran asked. \u201cKoko has been known to react to ailurophobes in peculiar ways.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShe\u2019s from Lockmaster and is more accustomed to dogs and horses.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI could put Koko and Yum Yum out in the gazebo.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNo! No!\u201d said Bart, a confirmed ailurophile. \u201cIt\u2019s their barn! Let her adjust. If she begins to itch or sneeze, she won\u2019t want to stay so long.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran, detecting a lack of enthusiasm on the attorney\u2019s part, asked, \u201cHow do you size up the two women in charge of the Manse?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cDaisy is always relaxed and friendly. Alma\u2014I never liked that name\u2014is warm or cold, agreeable or reserved, depending on her mood\u2026. You\u2019ll have to excuse me; I grew up with an aunt called Alma, and she let her sons break my toys and squirt me with water pistols.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

That was what Qwilleran liked about Bart\u2014he was human andhonest.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

On his way out, the attorney said, \u201cI almost forgot. My daughter asks a favor. She\u2019s making a survey and would like you to write two words on an index card.\u201d He drew a card and a pen from his pocket. \u201cYou writecat on one side of the card anddog on the other\u2026. Sign your initials.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran wrotedog on the first side in proper penmanship. On the reverse side he dashed offcat in a flamboyant script, crossing thet with a bar an inch long.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI thank you. My daughter thanks you. She\u2019s quite serious about this study\u2014her own idea\u2014although it will never be published.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow old is she?\u201d Qwilleran asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNine going on fifteen. Next summer she wants to extend the survey to Lockmaster,\u201d he said, raising parental eyebrows.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran found his copy ofMosses from an Old Manse and scanned it for references that might be linked with the mansion in Purple Point.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

That night Qwilleran wrote in his journal:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Monday\u2014I thought I had Koko all figured out. He knows when the phone is going to ring!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

But today he knew Uncle George was coming from the county buildingbefore the guy had announced his intentions. What about the biscatti in the briefcase? Did Koko know about that, too?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

I sound crazy, and and sometimes I feel I\u2019m slipping over the edge.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

What I mean is: It\u2019s pretty well established that Koko (a) knows what\u2019s going to happen. Does he also (b)make things happen ?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

I won\u2019t go that far, but I admit he puts ideas in my head. That\u2019s nothing new; Christopher Smart knew that a few centuries ago.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

But why does Yum Yum\u2019s buddy have more on the ball than most felines? I still say it\u2019s because he has sixty whiskers! Regardless of what Dr. Connie says and what the scientific literature says, I still maintain my opinion.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

How far am I prepared to go?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Perhaps I\u2019d better pipe down? They\u2019ll start counting my own whiskers. That would be a joke! Koko transmits, and I receive!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran mused whimsically. What an investigative team we\u2019d make!\u2026Koko\u2019s whiskers transmitting inside information\u2014and my moustache receiving the data.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

FOUR<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran ended his Tuesday column with a few \u201cFamous Last Words\u201d submitted by readers. These folk gems of humor arrived in the mailroom of theSomething \u2014on government postcards. Reader participation was a healthy sign for a small-town paper, and the \u201cFamous Last Words\u201d obviously came from all walks of life. Almost all were printable, and the best would be published in book form, it was promised, with proceeds going to some worthy cause. The latest were:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cMy new kitten is adorable\u2026and they assure me he\u2019s housebroken.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI haven\u2019t had a drink for five years\u2026so it won\u2019t hurt to have a little nip.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cMy dog likes to play rough\u2026and he never bites!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Officer\u2026I thought I had the green light.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Qwilleran delivered his Tuesday copy to the office of theSomething, he walked down the long hall of the building and could hear the editor in chief shouting behind closed doors. It was the kind of angry shouting that is usually accompanied by waving arms. There was no clue as to which staff member was getting a roasting.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran stopped in the food editor\u2019s office. \u201cWhat did you give your husband for breakfast, Mildred?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cTell you later! I\u2019m on deadline!\u201d She waved him away.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d Qwilleran asked one of the reporters.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cClarissa Moore went home to Indiana to attend a funeral, and this morning she sent a wire: She\u2019s not coming back! Arch is wild, and I don\u2019t blame him,\u201d the reporter said. \u201cFor a J student right out of college, she got a lot of breaks here.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran had done his part to encourage the novice, and although she was agood feature writer, she was hardly good enough to be forgiven for such cavalier behavior.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran asked, \u201cDoes anyone know if she took her cat? If she took Jerome, she knew she was going for good; otherwise, she would have left him in her apartment with her neighbors.\u201d He made a mental note to ask Judd Amhurst at the Winston Park apartments.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He disliked unanswered questions.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Deadline for the Tuesday Qwill Pen was twelve noon, and Qwilleran filed his copy with the managing editor according to custom\u2014not late, but not too early either.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Junior Goodwinter glanced at the transcript and rang for the copy boy, and said, \u201cDo you know a feature writer we could hire? Jill Handley won\u2019t be back from maternity leave for a few months.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow about running a series of guest features? Make it sound like an honor instead of an emergency, and they\u2019ll be vying for the privilege. For their cooperation you can make a contribution to their favorite charity. It would be invitational, of course. I can think of a dozen names without even trying. Bill Turmeric, Dr. Abernathy, Mavis Adams, Dr. Connie Cosgrove, Wetherby Goode, Thornton Haggis, Judd Amhurst, Polly Duncan\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cStop! I think it might work!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhannell MacWhannell,\u201d Qwilleran went on. \u201cHis wife, the astrologer. Silas Dingwall. Maggie Sprenkle can write about the animal welfare program\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow about setting it up for us?\u201d Junior asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cI\u2019m a columnist, I don\u2019t do setup.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran went home to give the cats their noontime treat and consider his own problem: how to write a column on the Old Manse for Friday\u2019s Qwill Pen.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

His pet theory about the Manse and the Hawthorne book remained to be tested, and the sooner the better. The attorney had been frank about the mansion\u2019s personnel, but it wouldn\u2019t hurt to get a second opinion.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Maggie and her late husband had owned the estate adjoining the Ledfields\u2019. They had dined together frequently, and Maggie could probably give him some tips.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran phoned Maggie and was offered: a nice cup of tea! He said he would come up right away. (Someday the Qwill Pen would address the question of tea\u2014and the difference between an ordinary cup of tea and a nice one.)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He biked to the rear of the Sprenkle Building and was admitted to the small elevator lobby, just large enough for his British Silverlight.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The upstairs apartment\u2014over the insurance and real estate offices\u2014was of Victorian splendor. The five front windows were occupied by Maggie\u2019s five \u201cladies\u201d from the animal shelter. Tea was ready to be poured.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

After the niceties, Qwilleran broached his idea for the Old Manse column. She thought it was splendid.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He stated his case, and the practical octogenarian said, \u201cI never heard Nathan claim a connection between his grandfather and the author\u2026but he neverdisclaimed one either!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cMr. Barter advised me to arrange an appointment with Miss James or Miss Babcock.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She paused significantly. \u201cI think\u2026you would find Daisy Babcock\u2026amenable to your idea. She\u2019s a lovely girl. Alma Lee is a little\u2026starchy,although I must admit she\u2019s an encyclopedia of information on Georgian silver and eighteenth-century crystal. She\u2019s not there every day, so you have to make an appointment. She spends three days a week in Lockmaster, where her parents have a gallery of art and antiques.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She said more, but Qwilleran had made up his mind to choose Daisy. He said, \u201cThe Ledfields have been very generous to the community.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNathan was always a good and generous soul. There was a couple that worked for him\u2014Mr. and Mrs. Simms, and they were killed in an auto accident, leaving a seven-year-old daughter. Nathan found a good home for her with a family at the church. But he also kept in touch with her, checking her report card at every marking and giving her gifts for birthdays and Christmas\u2014nothing inappropriately expensive but useful and thoughtful. After high school he put her through business school and then hired her to handle his correspondence and personal expenses.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhere is she now?\u201d Qwilleran asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHis will stipulated that Libby Simms should continue to handle his private matters. He made sure that his lawyers knew her position in the family.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cA touching story,\u201d Qwilleran murmured. \u201cHow old is she now?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cEarly twenties, I think. But this illustrates the Ledfields: fondness for children and their sorrow over not having any of their own.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Qwilleran phoned the Old Manse to request a tour of the building, he had his strategy planned.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He talked to a cheery individual whom he rightly guessed to be Daisy. Informed when Miss James would be in town, he scheduled an appointment for the day of her absence, saying he was on deadline.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Daisy said she could conduct him through the building the next day.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

That evening at elevenP .M. it was Qwilleran\u2019s turn to phone Polly with news.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI\u2019m interviewing Daisy tomorrow. Have you met her?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYes, she\u2019s friendlier than the other one. Married to one of the Linguini sons\u2026Their parents retired from the restaurant business and now live in Florida, although they visit Italy every summer. The sons preferred a party store to a restaurant, and I don\u2019t blame them!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cTheir store is the only place I can buy Squunk water by the case, and they deliver!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAre you looking forward to visiting the Old Manse, Qwill? I wish, now, that I had accepted Doris Ledfield\u2019s invitations\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He said, \u201cDo you think it\u2019s crazy to think that Nathan\u2019s grandfather might have have been inspired by Hawthorne\u2019s book?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNot at all.Mosses from an Old Manse was much revered in the days when the house was being built\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cDo you know what I heard today? Nathan\u2019s will stipulated that some of his small collectibles should be gradually sold off to provide ongoing funds for child welfare.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

And so it went until it was time for\u201c\u00c0 bient\u00f4t.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He combedMosses from an Old Manse for details that might appear in the Ledfields\u2019 Old Manse. He had read the book twice before\u2014once in college and once when he received a copy from the library of the fabulous Agatha Burns.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Agatha was a favorite name in Moose County; after all, the great teacher had lived to be a hundred and had inspired several generations.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Late that evening\u2014after the Siamese were escorted to their quarters on the third balcony, and after Qwilleran had treated himself to a dish of ice cream\u2014he wrote in his journal:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Today I found another clue to the Mystery of the Corrugated Box!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

First, I had brought it home from Edd Smith\u2019s Place, full of fine old books donated by the Campbells in Purple Point, and Koko went crazy, not over the books but over the box! Why?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Investigation indicated that the Campbells had bought something from the Ledfields, and it came packed in the large brown corrugated box. Now we hear that valuable items are being sold at the bequest of the Ledfield will!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

I brought the box from the tool shed, where it sported a do-not-discard sign. I brought it in for Koko\u2019s scrutiny, and he went wild again! Why?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The Ledfields had no indoor pets, I\u2019m told. Was there some other kind of aroma that might tickle Koko\u2019s whiskers? If so, what?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When I return from my assignment at the Old Manse tomorrow,will that cat know where I\u2019ve been ?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Tune in for the next installment.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As he wrote, Qwilleran became aware of thundering paws coming down the ramp from the third balcony. Koko had opened his bedroom door by hanging on the lever-type door handle, a technique he used in emergencies. At the same time Qwilleran heard fire sirens, and from the kitchen window could be seen a pink glow in the dark sky visible above the treetops. Another siren sounded\u2014then another. It sounded like a serious conflagration downtown!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran grabbed the phone and called the night desk at the newspaper. \u201cThis is Qwill! Where\u2019s the fire?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cDowntown! The Old Hulk! Can\u2019t talk now!\u201d He hung up with a bang.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran phoned the McBee farm on the back road, where both the farmer and his brother were volunteer firemen.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Mrs. McBee said, \u201cIt\u2019s awful! Someone torched the Old Hulk!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

After talking to Mrs. McBee, Qwilleran wrote in his journal:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The Old Hulk is a big wooden box on the southwest edge of Pickax with the height of a five-story building and the shape of a coffin. No windows. It was once a depot and warehouse for feed and seed, and farmers came in horse-drawn wagons from three counties to stock up. The interior was a series of lofts connected by ramps. With the advent of paved roads and motor vehicles it was replaced by smaller depots around the county, but the dirty-tan exterior still saidFEED AND SEED across the top in letters four feet high, and the eyesore became lovingly known as the Old Hulk. And the stories they tell about it are nothing you would want to tell to your kids and mother-in-law.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Despite the building\u2019s appearance and reputation, no one wanted the city to tear it down. But now it has burned down!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

FIVE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Moose County was in shock. Police called it arson. Ruffians from Bixby County had torched the Old Hulk.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran went to Lois\u2019s Luncheonette for coffee and the public reaction to the disaster. Although the Old Hulk was empty and only the shell of the senior center and could be rebuilt, it was the idea of the crime that rankled. When the newspaper hit the streets, there were statements from city officials, clergy, the donors of the property, retirees, students. Funds would be available to build the Senior Health Club from scratch, but it was the loss of the Old Hulk that hurt. Qwilleran was asked to write a special Qwill Pen column\u2014consoling, philosophizing, encouraging. At Lois\u2019s Luncheonette, the customers were angry and vengeful.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

While the public grieved or raged about the arson\u2014as well they might\u2014Qwilleran looked for a constructive approach.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

One day while cashing a check at the bank downtown, he stood in line just ahead of Burgess Campbell, lecturer at the local college and revered leader of the Scottish community. Blind from birth, Burgess was always accompanied by his guide dog, Alexander.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cBurgess, do you have a minute to talk? I have a constructive suggestion.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When their transactions were completed, they met in one of the bank\u2019s small conference rooms, and Qwilleran said: \u201cThe K Fund could publish a small book on the Old Hulk, if your students would do some research. They could interview family members, neighbors, public leaders. It would be good experience. They could borrow snapshots and check the photo file at the newspaper. Then a postscript could put a positive slant on the subject by introducing the Senior Health Club.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Alexander whimpered, and the two men considered that approval. He was a very smart dog.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran had a bad habit of writing a news story before the news broke, or describing a building before it was built. Polly said he should be writing fiction. The products of his imagination always surpassed the actual thing.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As for the Old Manse at Purple Point, Qwilleran wanted to design it to match Hawthorne\u2019s book.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

And the approach to the mansion signified he might be right\u2026. There was the iron gate between two rough stone gateposts\u2026. Then a long, straight driveway between two rows of poplar trees, with beds of daffodils here and there\u2026ending at a large building with a prisonlike look: gray brick, plain windows, and a severe entrance door.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The make-believe script ended when he clanged the heavy brass door knocker.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He expected to be admitted by a butler with silver buckles on his shoes, but Daisy Babcock opened the door in a pink pantsuit and a flurry of excitement.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Merrily she said, \u201cYou\u2019re Mr. Q! Welcome to the Old Manse. Did you bring Cool Koko?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Only devoted Qwill Pen readers talked nonsense like that. He liked her instantly.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He remembered meeting her at Linguini\u2019s Party Store when ordering Squunk water, but her informality came as a shock in a two-story foyer with marble floor, tall mirrors, brocaded walls, a mammoth crystal chandelier, and a stairway as big as the Bridge over the River Kwai.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Soberly, Qwilleran replied, \u201cKoko regrets that he had a previous appointment with his publisher. He hopes you\u2019ll call on him at the barn.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI\u2019d love to,\u201d she said. \u201cAlfredo has told me about it. He makes deliveries of Squunk water, he says.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a far cry from this little palace. Do you give guided tours?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhere would you like to begin?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAs the King of Hearts said to the White Rabbit, begin at the beginning and keep going till you come to the end. Then stop.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The loaf-shaped building with modest architecture was one of four wings surrounding a great hall with skylight and a fortune in large oil paintings importantly framed.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

There was a music salon with two grand pianos, a dining room that would seat sixteen, and an extensive library upstairs. Every suite had a four-poster bed and an eight-foot highboy.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

There was Mrs. Ledfield\u2019s pride and joy\u2014a large cutting garden that supplied freshly cut flowers for the silver and crystal vases throughout the house\u2026and there was Nathan Ledfield\u2019s specialty: a formal garden of daylilies comprising five varieties compatible with a northern climate.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

It was almost as if the Ledfields were still living there. In the music salon there was sheet music open on the racks, as if waiting for the pianist and violinist to make an entrance.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAnd this is called the Box Bank,\u201d Daisy said. \u201cIt\u2019s not usually shown to anyone outside the family.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

It was a roomful of empty boxes of every size and shape that Nathan had used in buying and selling collectibles: shoe boxes, hatboxes, jewelery boxes, clothing boxes, and large cardboard cartons.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

At one point, a young woman in denim came to Daisy and whispered something.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI\u2019ll call him back, Libby. Get his number\u2026. Did you go to the doctor? I want to know what he said.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The girl nodded and dashed away.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Daisy said, \u201cThat is our office manager. She went into the garden this morning and was stung by a bee\u2026. She was Nathan\u2019s prot\u00e9g\u00e9e, you know.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Altogether, Qwilleran enjoyed coffee and cookies with Daisy more than the extravagances of the Old Manse.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cYour husband is making a delivery from the party store tomorrow. Why don\u2019t you come along and say hello to Koko and Yum Yum?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran described the visit to Polly during their nightly phone call.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a rascal,\u201d she said. \u201cIf Alma Lee James finds out Daisy has visited the barn first, she\u2019ll be furious!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cOne of the Green Smocks at the bookstore has a cousin who is a housekeeper at the Old Manse, and she says there is jealousy between Daisy and Alma.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cOne of the office personnel came back from the doctor\u2019s office while I was there\u2014allergic to a bee sting, they said.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cDid you know that\u2019s how Maggie Sprenkle\u2019s husband died? He was working in his rose garden when he was stung and had forgotten his emergency kit. By the time he maneuvered his wheelchair into the house, it was too late. That\u2019s why Maggie sold the estate and moved downtown. By the way, what did you think of the Old Manse?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He said, \u201cI\u2019ve decided the Hawthorne connection is too esoteric for Qwill Pen readers. I\u2019m going to leave the Old Manse to the feature writers when the preview takes place. Well\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201c\u00c0 bient\u00f4t.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201c\u00c0 bient\u00f4t,dear.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Late Thursday afternoon, Koko, who had been invisible for hours, suddenly made an appearance in the kitchen\u2014not to order his dinner but to announce that someone was coming. He jumped on and off the kitchen counter overlooking the barnyard. He was right, of course. In fifteen seconds, according to Qwilleran\u2019s stopwatch, the Linguini truck emerged from the wooded trail and drove up to the back door.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Daisy jumped out and looked up at the barn in wonder. Her husband, Fredo, jumped out and started unloading two cases of Squunk water and boxes of cranberry juice, potato chips, pretzels, mixed nuts, and enough wine and spirits to stock the bar for Qwilleran\u2019s guests. Koko supervised.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIs he your new bartender?\u201d Fredo asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNo, he\u2019s from the State Revenue Department. We have a limited license.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Daisy was wandering around, gazing up at the ramps, balconies, soaring chimney stacks, and six-foot tapestries hanging from the highest railings.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The Siamese followed her, and Yum Yum allowed her to pick her up while Koko demonstrated his flying-squirrel act, landing on a sofa cushion below.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Then Qwilleran conducted them to the formal foyer with double doors, overlooking the octagonal gazebo screened on all eight sides. It had a view of the butterfly garden, flowering shrubs, and birdhouses on the trail leading to the Art Center on the Old Back Road.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Daisy was reluctant to leave, but they had two more deliveries to make.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Before they left, Qwilleran said, \u201cIt seems to me the Qwill Pen should do a column on vineyards. I\u2019ve never grown so much as a radish, but grapes appeal to me as\u2014what shall I say?\u2014a satisfying crop.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cMy brother Nick can give you a conducted tour. He\u2019s the vintner. Say when!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

On the phone Friday morning, the attorney and Qwilleran plotted Alma Lee\u2019s visit to the barn. It would be brief: Bart had another appointment, and Qwilleran had to file his copy for the noon deadline.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Bart and Alma arrived, the Siamese flew to the loftiest rafters, from which they could observe the first-time visitor.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran met them in the parking lot and conducted them to the formal entrance on the other side of the barn.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhere does this lead?\u201d Alma asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cTo my mailbox on the back road,\u201d he said, omitting mention of such items as the butterfly pool and the Art Center.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She looked at the screened gazebo. \u201cIs that where one of your guests shot himself last year?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHe wasn\u2019t a guest; he was an intruder, wanted by the police in three counties,\u201d Qwilleran said, embroidering the truth.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Indoors, she looked up at the balconies and ramps, the large white fireplace cube with stacks rising to the roof forty feet overhead, the six-foot tapestries hanging from balcony railings. \u201cYou could use some small art objects,\u201d she said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran replied, \u201cThe architectural complexities and vast spaces and walls of books don\u2019t leave much space for miscellaneous art objects. Apart from that, there\u2019s not much to see. It\u2019s an atmosphere youfeel; you don\u2019t see it.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Dropping her critical frown, she said amiably, \u201cDo you know what I\u2019d like to see in this environment? Large vases filled with fresh flowers! Every area has an ideal spot for it, and you can get fabulous vases from the Ledfield collection in crystal, porcelain, and silver.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran and the attorney exchanged glances.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cWith two airborne cats, a vase of flowers would last about ten minutes.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

And Bart said, \u201cCome, come, Alma. Mr. Qwilleran is on deadline at the newspaper.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Opening her handbag, she found a booklet bound in black and gold. \u201cHere is the catalog of the Ledfield collection. The items with red stickers are already sold.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran thanked her and gave his wristwatch what was supposed to be a surreptitious glance.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Alma said, \u201cThe most important item has already gone to an old family in Purple Point.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Barter said, \u201cWe won\u2019t have time to sit down, because I have another appointment, and I know you\u2019re on deadline, but thanks for showing Alma the interior.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

They were standing\u2014awkwardly, Qwilleran felt\u2014around the area with two large angled sofas.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Suddenly there was a scream as a cat dropped from the rafters onto the cushion of a sofa.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d Qwilleran said to his unnerved guest. \u201cThat\u2019s Koko. He wants to be introduced.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t have time for formalities,\u201d said Barter. \u201cWe\u2019re holding up the presses. Thank you, Qwill. Come on, Alma.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As Barter rushed Alma out of the barn, he looked back and rolled his eyes meaningfully.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As soon as they had driven away, Qwilleran checked the catalog for red-stickered items. He found: a fifteen-inch punch bowl of Chinese export porcelain. It was dated circa 1780. The design was elaborate and historical.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He called Lisa Compton at the ESP place. \u201cAre you still there? Won\u2019t they let you go?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThis sounds like Qwill. Tomorrow\u2019s my last day at the bookstore. What can I do for you?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAbout your rich cousins\u201d\u2026(Campbell was her maiden name, but she claimed to be from the poor side of the clan)\u2026\u201cDo you happen to know what they bought from the Ledfield estate? Koko\u2019s still fascinated by the box the books came in.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt was only a punch bowl, they said.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cGlass or china?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cChina, but quite old. Do you want me to find out the nature of the design? There\u2019s no telling what might light a fire under that smart Koko!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

After a little more nonsense common to the fans of \u201cCool Koko,\u201d the conversation ended.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran grabbed the black-and-gold catalog and found the punch-bowl listing: It had sold for sixty thousand dollars.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

SIX<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As Qwilleran had once written in his private journal:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Anyone who thinks it\u2019s easy to write a twice-weekly column is misinformed. It may be an enjoyable challenge, but it\u2019s never easy. Friday has a relentless way of following Tuesday, and next Tuesday follows this Friday inexorably.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Only the loyalty and enthusiasm of readers kept Qwilleran\u2019s creative juices perking.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The Hawthorne idea had proved to be a \u201cno-story\u201d\u2014an unfortunate situation to a newsman with a deadline to meet. He had to resort to his \u201ctrash barrel,\u201d as he called the deep drawer of his desk. Postcards from readers, clippings, notes could always be made into a chatty Qwill Pen column with, perhaps, a saying from Cool Koko: \u201cFaint heart never won the softest cushion in the house.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Polly said that Qwilleran made the same mistakes over and over again.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

But doggedly\u2026not stubbornly, he proceeded with another Qwill Pen idea, writing a story in his mind before researching it.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Moose County had a vineyard and a vintner! Qwilleran, Chicago-born, saw his first vineyard in Italy while a young foreign correspondent, and he had retained a romantic impression of the vineyard, the vintner\u2014and perhaps the vintner\u2019s daughter.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

First he consulted the encyclopedia, determined to avoid another no-story disappointment. He liked the words:vineyard, viticulture, andvintner. He had never wanted to be a farmer, but he wouldn\u2019t mind being a vintner. And there was more to viticulture than the making of wine; there were grapes for eating, juice for drinking, raisins for baking, and\u2014his favorite spread for toast\u2014grape jelly. It was an ancient culture, mentioned by Virgil, Homer, and the Bible. Thomas Jefferson tried it. Julia Ward Howe referred to grapes in \u201cThe Battle Hymn of the Republic.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran had new respect for the Linguini brothers. Nick was the vintner who helped with the store; Alfredo was the storekeeper who helped with the vineyard. He called and made an appointment.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

So, on Saturday morning, he drove to the western part of the county, near the lakeshore, and visited Linguinis\u2019 Party Store. There were quite a few cars in the parking lot. The party store was in a rustic building with a porch running the full width. Indoors, the goods were arranged casually, and the customers were not in a hurry. Some were wandering in and out of a back hall, smiling. It seemed, on investigation, that another homeless pregnant cat had wandered in from the highway and had been given a box and blanket\u2014and had given birth to four minuscule kittens. The smiling customers were putting dollar bills in a pickle jar on the counter for their food, shots, and future expenses.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHi, Mr. Q,\u201d said Fredo. \u201cWant to cast your vote for the kittens\u2019 names?\u2026Nick is expecting you!\u2026Marge, ring the vineyard and tell him Qwill is here.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

While waiting for the vintner to come up with his Jeep, Qwilleran accepted compliments from readers, answered questions about Cool Koko\u2019s health and happiness, and generally made friends for theSomething.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As for discovering another two thousand words for the Qwill Pen, however\u2026it was another Good Idea That Didn\u2019t Work. But he heard some provocative comments from Nick that his sister-in-law, Daisy, had brought home from the Manse; they raised questions.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cFredo and I think she should quit,\u201d he said. \u201cToo much monkey business! Know what I mean? There\u2019s too much money floating around! Do you realize that a punch bowl sold for sixty thousand? What I\u2019m wondering is, where is the sixty thousand?\u2026That young girl who\u2019s supposed to be handling Nathan\u2019s personal accounts has been whispering suspicions to Daisy. See what I mean?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran agreed it was a sticky situation. \u201cAs I understand it, the entire property has been given to the county. Somebody should blow the whistle! But who? Let me think about it, Nick.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThink fast!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran left the vineyard in the firm belief that Koko\u2019s curiosity about the large cardboard carton in the shed had some connection with Alma Lee; the cat had dropped from the rafters as if trying to frighten her. Then, when Qwilleran arrived at the barn, he found that the black-and-gold catalog had been torn to shreds!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

No sane person would consider this evidence. It was coincidence, and yet\u2026stranger things had happened in connection with Koko! What to do?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

While he was downtown with his car, Qwilleran stopped at Grandma\u2019s Sweet Shop to pick up ice cream\u2014a gallon of particularly good butter pecan for himself and a quart of vanilla for the Siamese. A real grandmother presided over the cash register in the front, and her grandchildren waited on customers in the rear. Before he could place his order, he saw a waving hand from the seating area (old-fashioned ice-cream tables and chairs of twisted wire). It was Hannah Hawley, wife of Uncle Louie McLeod\u2014with their adopted son, now about nine.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She beckoned to Qwilleran, and as he approached, the young man jumped up and politely added another chair to the table. (This was the waif who had never brushed his teeth or said his prayers when adopted!)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow\u2019s Koko?\u201d she asked. \u201cI\u2019ll never forget his performance at the KitKat Revue.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHe really blew his cool, didn\u2019t he? I think he was expressing an opinion of rhinestone collars.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran inquired, \u201cHow\u2019s everything on Pleasant Street?\u201d He signaled for a cup of coffee.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cPleasant,\u201d she said. \u201cWe\u2019re casting forCats. Would you like to try out for Old Deuteronomy?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThat\u2019s about my speed, but if you need a genuine feline, I can supply one.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow well we know!\u201d she said. \u201cBy the way, the rehearsal pianist we\u2019ve had for years has left town, and we were really worried, but we were able to rent Frankie from Lockmaster.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

After two gulps of coffee, Qwilleran asked, \u201cWould it be na\u00efve to ask who Frankie is\u2014and why he has to be rented?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHe\u2019s crazy,\u201d said Danny.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cDear, we don\u2019t use that word,\u201d he was reprimanded. \u201cHe\u2019s an eccentric genius. He can sight-read a musical score he has never seen before! Perfectly! But he\u2019d do it for nothing, and people would take advantage of him, so he\u2019s under the management of his family. He\u2019s remarkable.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhat is the family name?\u201d Qwilleran asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHis last name is James, but there are lots of Jameses in Lockmaster\u2014like Goodwinters here. All kinds!\u201d She stopped suddenly and looked at the boy. \u201cDanny, take this money and pay our check at the front counter. Tell Grandma we enjoyed our lunch. And don\u2019t forget to count your change.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Danny had left on his important mission, Hannah said in a low voice, \u201cLouie says the Jameses include teachers and preachers, horse breeders, and train robbers. There\u2019s an antique shop that we think is way overpriced. Frankie\u2019s managers seem to be a decent sort. They\u2019re looking out for his well-being, since he seems to lack a sense of money. He doesn\u2019t drive\u2014couldn\u2019t get a license, they say\u2026.\u201d Her voice trailed off as Danny returned to the table with the change. \u201cWe like Frankie, don\u2019t we, Danny? He has a friendly, outgoing personality\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHe has a girlfriend,\u201d Danny interrupted.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Hannah stood up. \u201cSo nice to run into you, Qwill. I\u2019ll tell Louie I saw you. Come on, Danny!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Late that evening Qwilleran and Polly had their elevenP .M. phone chat. He asked, \u201cDid you have a good day?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWe had a few interesting customers. Sales were about normal. Dundee ate something he shouldn\u2019t have and threw up.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI visited Linguini\u2019s Party Store. They have a new litter of kittens, and I contributed a name for one of them. I suggested Squunky. Nick showed me around the vineyard. I\u2019ve decided my interest in vineyards, vintners, and viticulture is purely literary. I like the sound of the words and the quotations from the Bible and poets and playwrights\u2026. So I\u2019m afraid it\u2019s a no-story again\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cOh dear! You\u2019ve wasted a lot of time!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cA writer\u2019s time is never wasted. We\u2019ll talk about it at dinner Saturday night. How about the Old Grist Mill? We\u2019ll pay the new management the compliment of dressing up.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Polly hesitated longer than normal. \u201cOh, dear! There\u2019s a complication\u2026. You know my friend Shirley in Lockmaster?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWe haven\u2019t met, but I know she\u2019s the Lockmaster librarian who quit when you did\u2014and went into book merchandising, the way you did.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYes, but her bookstore is a hundred years old and has been in the family all that time. Saturday is her sixtieth birthday. They\u2019re taking a private room at the Palomino Paddock. They want me to be there as a surprise! You\u2019re invited, too, but I think you wouldn\u2019t enjoy it. They play guessing games.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI think you\u2019re right.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cQwill, I hate to miss our Saturday-night date. It\u2019s the first time ever!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThat\u2019s perfectly all right. I\u2019ll take Rhoda Tibbitt to dinner and talk about her late husband. Have a good evening. Better not drive back till Sunday morning. I don\u2019t want you to drive alone at night.\u201d Then, since he had placed the call, it was his place to say\u201c\u00c0 bient\u00f4t.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201c\u00c0 bient\u00f4t,\u201dshe said. Did he detect a slight chill on the line? Surely she realized that Rhoda was the eighty-nine-year-old widow of the century-old historian of Moose County.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Polly\u2019s defection on Saturday night\u2014in favor of dinner and guessing games in Lockmaster\u2014was just what Qwilleran needed to launch the Tibbitt project. Rhoda was only too happy to cooperate. He picked her up at Ittibittiwassee Estates, where the other residents were thrilled to see one of their number go to dinner with Mr. Q.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran had made a reservation at Tipsy\u2019s Tavern, a roadhouse in a log cabin\u2014with its own poultry farm. It was aptly named for the owner\u2019s cat, a portrait of which hung in the main dining room\u2014white with a black patch slipping crazily over one eye. There was a private alcove overlooking the poultry yard that could be closed off for conferences after dinner, and the management was always proud to reserve it for Mr. Q.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

As for the food, there was no doubt that Tipsy\u2019s had the best ham and eggs and chicken \u00e0 la king in the county\u2014but nothing fancy\u2014and the cook made no claim to being a chef.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said to his guest, \u201cWe\u2019ll have dinner first and chat; then we\u2019ll clear the table and turn on the recorder.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He said, \u201cI first met Homer at the Klingenschoen mansion when it was a museum. The cats and I were living there. Iris Cobb was housekeeper. There was a meeting room upstairs, with an elevator, and Homer was scheduled to speak, but he was late\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Rhoda nodded and smiled. \u201cHomer said everyone should have a personal motto, and his was:Always be late. \u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWell, there we were, waiting,\u201d Qwilleran said. \u201cEvery time the elevator bell rang, everyone looked at the approaching car. The door would open, and it would be someone else. About the fourth time the bell rang, we all looked at the elevator door, positive that it was Homer. The doors opened, and out walked Koko, with his tail high.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI remember,\u201d she said, \u201cand he seemed surprised that everyone was laughing and shouting.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWas Homer a good principal?\u201d Qwilleran asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She said, \u201cWe all had a crush on our principal. He was so elegant the way he was dressed and groomed, and he treated his teachers in such courtly fashion. He was the first to retire and went into volunteer work at the Lockmaster Mansion Museum. So when I retired, I went there to apply. Imagine my surprise to findmy principal in old clothes, crawling around on hands and knees, followed by a belligerent-looking cat!\u2026It turned out that the mansion was plagued with mice, and Homer said that it was necessary to find out where they were getting in. He claimed to have foundover a dozen mouse holes and plugged them up, and the cat was furious because his source of supply was being eroded!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt was another twelve or fifteen years before we were married, and Homer turned out to be a lot of fun\u2026. Do you remember the time, Qwill, when adelegation of us in ten limousines rode around the county dedicating bronze plaques?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI do indeed! The worse it got, the funnier it got\u2026. Here comes our dinner. We\u2019ll continue the reminiscences later.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Dinner was served. Chicken, of course, but the conversation never wandered far from the Grand Old Man who had lived to be almost a hundred. There was one question Qwilleran saved until after dessert: \u201cWhat can you tell me about the Midnight Marchers?\u201d He turned on the recorder.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhen Homer was nineteen, he used to call on a young lady in the next town\u2014riding there on his bicycle and spending the evening on the porch swing, drinking lemonade and talking. Every half hour, he recalled, her mother came out to the porch to see if they had enough lemonade. At eleven o\u2019clock she suggested that he leave for home, since it was a long ride.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cOn one dark night, on the way home, he was mystified to see a long line of small lights weaving across the nearby hills!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhat he did not know\u2014and what it turned out to be\u2014was the annualritual of the Midnight Marchers. They were mourning the loss of thirty-eight miners in a mine disaster that orphaned an entire town.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cFurthermore, it was caused by a greedy mine owner who had failed to take the precautions practiced by competitors\u2026.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cEvery year, the descendants of those orphans donned miners\u2019 hats with tiny lights and trudged in silent file across the mine site. They have done it for three generations now, first the sons of orphans, then the grandsons of orphans, and now the great-grandsons. It always made Homer mad as a hatter! He said it was silly schoolboy stuff\u2014putting on miners\u2019 hats with lights and staging a spooky pageant. He said they should do something that would benefit the community\u2014and do it in the name of the long-ago victims.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow did people react?\u201d Qwilleran asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cOh, he made enemies, who said he was disrespectful of the dead. But as the years went on, the Marchers sounded more and more like a secret society who got together and drank beer. And then Homer got a letter from Nathan Ledfield, that dear man! He said Homer was right. He asked for Homer\u2019s help in changing the purpose of the Midnight Marchers without changing the name. Mr. Ledfield wanted the Midnight Marchers to benefit orphans. And it proved to be successful.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThe beauty of it is,\u201d said Rhoda, \u201cthat churches and other organizations got behind it, and the Midnight Marchers changed their purpose.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHmmm\u2026this sounds vaguely familiar\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYes, other philanthropists have copied the Midnight Marchers\u2014not only in Moose County, I believe.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cHomer must have been pleased to have his lifelong campaign succeed.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYes, but he never wanted any credit.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Strangely, Qwilleran\u2019s mind went to Nathan Ledfield\u2019s prot\u00e9g\u00e9e, but it was getting late, and he saw Rhoda glance at her wristwatch. They returned to Ittibittiwassee Estates.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

SEVEN<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Expecting Polly home for Sunday brunch, Qwilleran biked downtown early for the SundayNew York Times, unloading such sections as Fashion & Style, Business, Sports, and Classifieds. Otherwise, it would not fit in the basket of his British Silverlight. There were always fellow citizens who were glad to get his leavings.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

By the time he returned to the barn, Koko was doing his contortions in the kitchen window, meaning there was a message on the machine.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

It would be Polly, he knew, announcing her arrival and making plans for the day\u2026. Instead, when Qwilleran pressed the button, the voice was that of Wetherby Goode: \u201cThis is Joe. Polly called and asked me to give her cats their breakfast. She said to tell you she won\u2019t be home till late afternoon.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran fortified himself with a cup of coffee and dialed the weatherman. He said, \u201cAppreciate the message, Joe. Did she mention what was happening in that jungle down there?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cJust what I was going to ask you, pal.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShe went to a dinner last night, leaving her cats on the automatic feeder and expecting to drive back this morning for the usual Sunday activities. No telling what changed her mind.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAnything can happen south of the border.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYou should know, Joe.\u201d (He was a native of Horseradish down there.) \u201cPolly went to a birthday party for a friend who was library director of Lockmaster but left to manage the family bookstore.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cSure, I know the store. Bestbooks. It\u2019s been there forever. Why weren\u2019t you invited?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI was, but I declined. They play guessing games at their parties.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI know what you mean\u2026.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cStop in for a snort on your way to your broadcast tomorrow and I\u2019ll fill you in\u2014on who won.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

During this conversation, the Siamese had sat side by side, quietly awaiting developments. He gave them a good brushing with the silver-backed hairbrush\u2026then played a few rounds of the necktie game\u2026then announced, \u201cRead!\u201d Koko leaped to the bookshelf and knocked downPortrait of a Lady. It had more gilt on the spine, he observed, than others that had come in the last purchase.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The first chapter was interrupted by the phone\u2014and the comfortable voice of Mildred Riker, inviting him to an afternoon repast with the Rikers. \u201cBut I can\u2019t find Polly,\u201d she said. \u201cShe wasn\u2019t at church.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShe\u2019s out of town,\u201d Qwilleran explained.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThen you come, and I\u2019ll invite someone from the neighborhood.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When he arrived an hour later, he was glad to see Hixie Rice, promotion director for theSomething.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Polly?\u201d she asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIn Lockmaster\u2014probably up to no good. Where\u2019s Dwight?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIn the same place, probably for the same reason.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Drinks were served on the deck. They talked about the Old Hulk. The Scottish community was prepared to underwrite a new building. Volunteer carpenters, electricians, and painters were offering their services, proud to have their names on an honor roll in the lobby of the building.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The meal was served indoors, as usual.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Mildred said, \u201cI envy Qwill\u2019s screened gazebo. He can serve outdoors, and the cats can be out there without leashes.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

After dessert (peach cobbler with cr\u00e8me fra\u00eeche and pecans) the two men entertained with their favorite topic: growing up in Chicago. Hixie had not heard the story before.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Mildred said, \u201cTell about summer camp.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The oft-told tale went like this:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

QWILL: \u201cMy father died before I was born, and so Mr. Riker functioned as dad for both of us\u2014taking us to the zoo and parades, giving advice, discussing our report cards, getting us out of scrapes.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

ARCH: \u201cOne year he decided we should go to summer camp and learn something useful like doing the Australian crawl, rigging a sailboat, climbing a tree, whittling a wood whistle\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

QWILL: \u201cBut there\u2019s only one thing we remember. Every night we\u2019d sit around a campfire, listen to stories, and sing camp songs loudly, but not well.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

ARCH: \u201cBut the only thing that either of us remembers in detail is the campfire chant.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

QWILL: \u201cNot only do we remember every word, but it runs through the mind at the most inopportune times.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

ARCH: \u201c\u2014Like, when facing a traffic judge.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

QWILL: \u201c\u2014or getting married.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

ARCH: \u201c\u2014Would you like a performance?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Hixie squealed, \u201cPlease do!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The two men sat up in their chairs, eyed each other for a cue, then launched into a loud, bouncy beat:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAway down yonder not so very far off<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

A jaybird died of the whooping cough.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Hewhoopedso hard with the whooping cough<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

That hewhoopedhis head and his tail<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Right off!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

There was a moment\u2019s silence, during which Polly always said, \u201cTo quote Richard the Third, I am amazed.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Hixie squealed, \u201cI love it! I wanta learn it!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWant to hear the second verse?\u201d they asked. \u201cIt\u2019s the same as the first.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The party broke up at a sensible hour, and Qwilleran drove home to get up-to-date on Polly\u2019s escapade. He would ask her:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

How was the party?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Were there sixty candles on the cake?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Who was there?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Were they dressed bookish or horsey?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Did they really play guessing games?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Who won?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

What were the prizes?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

What church do they attend?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

How was the preacher?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He was a thorough interviewer, and she liked to be interviewed.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When he arrived at the barn, the cat-in-the-window message assured Qwilleran that someone had checked in. It was the weatherman.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cPolly\u2019s home, but she\u2019s beat! Call me, not her. She looked frazzled, Qwill, high on excitement, short on sleep. I told her to turn in and I\u2019d notify you.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cShe never drinks more than half a glass of sherry. She\u2019s known Shirley for years!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYeah, but\u2026something got her overexcited and maybe it interfered with her sleep. Too bad she had to drive home alone. We\u2019ll keep in touch. Don\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

That evening, around eleven o\u2019clock, Qwilleran was reading in his lounge chair, and the cats were sprawled on his lap. Suddenly Koko was alerted! He looked at the desk phone. And it rang. It was Polly, reporting for their bedtime chat.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cQwill!\u201d she cried. \u201cI suppose you wonder what happened to me. I\u2019ve never been so exhausted in my life! A cup of cocoa, a few hours\u2019 sleep with my cuddly cats, and I revivified\u2026. I hope you didn\u2019t worry about me.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll go to dinner tomorrow night, and you can fill me in.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI\u2019ll have something exciting to tell you,\u201d Polly said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cGive me a hint.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cNo hints. If you guess what it is, it won\u2019t be a surprise\u2026.\u00c0 bient\u00f4t! \u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201c\u00c0 bient\u00f4t.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

EIGHT<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

On his way to the radio station, Wetherby Goode often stopped at Qwilleran\u2019s barn for a pick-me-up, and the newsman enjoyed his impromptu visits\u2014not only to get the inside track on the weather but to share neighborly news, and the neighbors at the Willows were always making news. Joe had been genuinely concerned about Polly.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When he arrived at the kitchen door and dropped on a stool at the bar, he was greeted by Koko and Yum Yum, who would not be surprised to receive a friendly cat snack from Jet Stream.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran poured and said, \u201cWell, she survived!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShe\u2019s a tough one! Never underestimate the power of a cup of cocoa!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The male cat jumped to the bar top, hearing his name.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cI expect to hear the whole story when we have dinner tonight. The problem is: Monday is not a good night for dining out. The Mackintosh Inn is too formal, the Grist Mill too festive, the Boulder House too far.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhy not get a picnic supper catered by Robin O\u2019Dell, Qwill, and serve it in the gazebo? You don\u2019t know how lucky you are to have premises that are screened.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cOnce in a while you come up with a good idea\u2026. Have another splash in your glass.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAnd if there\u2019s anything Polly doesn\u2019t know about those horse people in Lockmaster, call on me. I can give you some ancient history about Bestbooks, Qwill. It\u2019s been in the same family for a hundred years, you know. At one time they kept a bottle in the back room and had a men\u2019s club back there. Lots of loud laughter and bawdy jokes. Parents put the whole store off-limits to kids. Women wouldn\u2019t go in to buy a cookbook. They lost a lot of business to mail order and secondhand and the public library.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cThe librarians of both Lockmaster and Pickax became great friends at that time. That\u2019s why Polly was invited to Shirley\u2019s birthday party yesterday.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Joe drained his glass and headed for the back door.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cBefore you go, Joe, one question. Does Jet Stream accept food from the automatic feeder?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll take anything he can get\u2026. Why?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhen Koko hears the little bell ring and sees the little door open, he looks at the food in disbelief and then looks up at me and shakes his right paw\u2014then sniffs the dish again and shakes his other paw before walking away.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

There was time, before Polly came from the bookstore, to call Celia and order a picnic supper.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Celia said, \u201cDoes she like cold soup? I have some lovely gazpacho. And I have individual quiches in the oven with bacon and tomato. For dessert, chilled Bartlett pears would be nice, with a bit of Stilton\u2026. Pat can deliver it after five o\u2019clock, and I\u2019ll send a little goodie for the cats.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Polly drove to the barn around six o\u2019clock, Qwilleran said, \u201cWe\u2019ll have an aperitif in the gazebo. Will you take the cats?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She knew right where to go for their \u201climousine,\u201d a canvas tote bag in the broom closet, advertising the Pickax Public Library. Qwilleran carried a tray with sherry for her and Squunk water for himself. \u201cI want to hear all about the Birthday Party of the Century.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWell!\u201d she said, promising a momentous report. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t have liked it, Qwill. The main dining room looked like a stable\u2014tack hanging on the walls, waitresses in riding boots\u2014everything but the horses! I thought the food was terrible! I ordered salmon; I don\u2019t know what they did to it.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Parodying an old joke, Qwilleran said, \u201cApart from that, Mrs. Duncan, how did you like the party?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThere were forty guests at long institutional tables\u2026forty frosted cupcakes, each with a tiny candle, and a matchbook\u2026forty gift-wrapped birthday presents, including one that must have been a refrigerator and one that was obviously a bicycle!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow did the guest of honor react?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShirley is always charming. She told her son she would like everything trucked to her home\u2014where she could open the small ones with her shoes off and her cat on her lap. She said she would send everyone a thank-you note suitable for framing. That means an original cartoon.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShirley sounds like a clever woman. I\u2019m sorry I never met her\u2026. What about the guessing games? You haven\u2019t mentioned them.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThey were boring: Why does the firefly flash his light? Who owns the Volvo company in Sweden? Who explored Idaho in the early nineteenth century?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

They were both accustomed to Literary Club questions. Who wrote these lines: \u201cShe walks in beauty like the night\u2026\u201d \u201cTomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day\u2026\u201d \u201cOrder is a lovely thing, on disarray it lays its wing.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThe best part of the evening was the music. A young man played fabulous piano! Pop and classical. A young woman turned pages for him. They say she\u2019s also his chauffeur\u2014or is it chauffeuse? He has some kind of disability and can\u2019t drive. He\u2019s also a piano tuner. He tuned Doris\u2019s piano at the Old Manse four times a year, including regulating and voicing. Mostly he plays piano for hire.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Polly stopped for breath he asked, \u201cIs his name Frankie? I believe he\u2019s rehearsal pianist for the production ofCats. All very interesting.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Later Qwilleran asked about Shirley\u2019s ideas for a bookstore.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cBestbooks and Pirate\u2019s Chest had entirely different problems.They had a hundred-year-old building with a boozy aroma in the rear and a questionable reputation\u2014not to mention bad plumbing. With Shirley\u2019s know-how and ideas and an unlimited budget, Bestbooks was born again. Her first move was to hire a bibliocat, a brother of Dundee, and customers\u2019 frowns changed to smiles. Then, just as we have an actual pirate\u2019s chest hanging on the wall, Shirley introduced a favorite work of art\u2026. Are you familiar with the Rodin sculptureThe Thinker ?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran had never seen it but knew its pose: male model, seated, with fist on chin and elbow on knee.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShirley has never seen the original, either, but she has a photo enlarged and framed as a focal point of the store. Obviously it represents \u2018Thinking, not drinking.\u2019 And then a competition among customers named the official cat Thinker\u2014a wonderful name for a feline.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He said, \u201cI\u2019m sorry I don\u2019t know Shirley. What\u2019s she like?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cShe has a commanding figure and is very pleasant. Just don\u2019t call herShirl, that\u2019s all!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran said, \u201cThere\u2019s something on your mind, Polly. It\u2019s been bothering you ever since Shirley\u2019s party. Would you like to unload?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She looked relieved. \u201cHow to begin\u2026At the end of the dinner, Shirley\u2019s son, Donald, who has been functioning as president of Bestbooks, made a very touching speech about Shirley and how she gave up a library career three years ago to save a century-old bookstore that had been going downhill. In the last three years, Shirley\u2019s personality and brainpower have tripled the annual income. For that reason the Bestbooks board of directors have voted Shirley a bonus: something she has always wanted\u2014a trip to Paris. Shirley screamed\u2014something she never does. Then Donald said that all expenses would be paid\u2014for two!Shirley looked at me, and I screamed! Then we clutched each other and both cried.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran was stunned into silence but recovered to say, \u201cI\u2019m very happy for you, Polly!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She said, \u201cI only wish you were going with me.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cSo do I, dear.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Polly said, \u201cAt least I won\u2019t have to impose on neighbors and worry about Brutus and Catta. They can stay at Pet Plaza, and Judd Amhurst can manage the bookstore.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She added, \u201cA Lockmaster travel agent will handle airline tickets, hotel reservations, and sightseeing.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Later that evening, and in the days that followed, Qwilleran speculated that they could have been traveling about the globe together. Why had they both allowed themselves to be trapped in the workaday world? Now there was no telling whom Polly would meet. There had been that professor in Canada, that antiques dealer in Williamsburg, those attorneys and architects at the K Fund in Chicago.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

And now there were all those Frenchmen! She liked men, and they were attracted to her agreeable manner, resulting from a lifetime career in a public library. Her musical voice might be interpreted as being seductive. She had a beautiful complexion\u2014the result, she said, of eating broccoli and bananas. She dressed attractively\u2014with individual touches of her own design. Altogether, Polly seemed too young for the silver in her hair. And when she entered a room wearing a Duncan plaid over the shoulder, pinned with a silver cairngorm\u2026she stopped conversation.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

And now those two likable and attractive women were going to Paris!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

NINE<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

The next day, a Tuesday, Qwilleran met his Qwill Pen deadline but felt an underlying disappointment, although he kept telling himself to snap out of it. Everywhere he went, the entire population of Pickax seemed to know that Polly was going to Paris without him.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

One conference was with Lisa Compton, who wanted to update him on the proposed program at the Senior Health Club. When given a choice of venue, she gladly chose the barn.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow\u2019s your crotchety and lovable husband?\u201d he asked. Lyle was superintendent of schools.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cCrotchety and lovable, in that order,\u201d she said cheerfully.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

They decided it was too good a day to sit anywhere but the gazebo.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He asked, \u201cIs there anything the Qwill Pen can do for you?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThat\u2019s for you to decide, Qwill. I\u2019ll tell you where we stand. The building itself is progressing incredibly fast. With all-volunteer labor. We\u2019re selling memberships and collecting ideas for activities. I\u2019ve never seen this town so excited. The wonderful thing is that they want to learn how to do things! Does the Qwill Pen have any suggestions?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAs a matter of fact, yes! I\u2019ve been thinking about it\u2014and about the pleasure I get from writing a private journal. It\u2019s not like a diary, where you record daily events\u2014but a place for thoughts and ideas, no matter how personal or crazy. No matter how amateurish, it\u2019s something to leave to future generations\u2014something that will be appreciated. I\u2019d be willing to introduce the idea, give a few tips\u2014even read some of my own entries.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cQwill! This is more than I expected! You could introduce the idea now\u2014in the community hall, and get them started. Is there anything I should be doing?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cJust tell the stationer to lay in a good supply of ordinary school notebooks with lined pages.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

That night as Qwilleran sat down to write in his private journal, he had a flashback to his lean and hungry years as a young man in New York. He wrote:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

My furnished room had an old windup Victrola and a single 78 record: Johnny Mercer singing \u201cI\u2019m gonna sit right down and write myself a letter.\u201d I played it every night because I couldn\u2019t afford to buy another one.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Now, three decades later, it runs through my mind every night when I sit down to write to myself in my journal.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Qwilleran\u2019s phone rang frequently the following day.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIs it true about Polly?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhy aren\u2019t you going?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWhy Paris?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cDoes she speak French?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cAre you giving a big party?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow long will she be gone?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Finally he remembered the advice of his childhood mentor: \u201cWhen fed up, take the bull by the horns.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

He went downtown to Lanspeak\u2019s Department Store and asked Carol about a going-away gift for Polly. \u201cNot another scarf! And certainly not a bottle of French perfume!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

She said, \u201cWe have a wonderful travel coat\u2014gabardine\u2014with snap flaps on the patch pockets\u2014with secret pockets in the lining\u2014and a brimmed rain hat. Polly looked at it but thought the price a little steep.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take it!\u201d he said. \u201cIn fact, I\u2019ll take two. Is there a choice of colors?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Now, it seemed to Qwilleran, would be a good time to work on his senior program for Lisa Compton. It would be easy. He could tell an anecdote or two about Cool Koko\u2026then show a stack of the school notebooks he filled with journal entries. Never a day went by without filling a page.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

On some days there were brief entries:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When Yum Yum, my female Siamese, has access to a long hallway with many doors to bedrooms, bathrooms, etc., her performance is a wonder to watch. The doors are open; the rooms are unoccupied much of the time.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

With stiff legs and resolute steps, she proceeds to walk the length of the hall down the exact center, looking straight ahead. At each open door she stops in her tracks; her body remains motionless except for her head, which swivels to look in the room. Only her eyeballs move as she appraises the interior. Then, finding nothing of interest, she switches her head back to the main course and trudges on to the next open door.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

I have never seen her find anything of interest, but she continues her silent inspections.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

There are times when I would like to redesign this barn and put the front door in the front and the back door in the back. But what is the back? And what is the front?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

I stable my bicycles in the elegant foyer\u2014and greet guests at the kitchen door.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

I guess this is what happens when you convert a drive-through apple barn into a residence. And it reminds me of the pioneers who founded Pickax. Did they have a mischievous sense of humor when they put North Street south of South Street\u2026and when they put storefronts facing the alley and loading docks facing the street?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Pickax is the quintessential absurdist city!<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

That evening, Qwilleran phoned the Comptons and told Lisa he was ready to talk to the seniors about private journals. He had some free time. He would read a couple of his own entries. They could start their own journals without waiting for the Senior Health Club to be finished.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Lisa said they would announce the date at the community hall.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThere\u2019ll be a crowd!\u201d she said. \u201cWe\u2019ll notify the Traffic Department.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

On Thursday, Qwilleran felt the need for lunch and camaraderie with Kip MacDiarmid. The editor in chief of theLockmaster Ledger was one of his best friends, and Kip\u2019s wife, Moira, was the marmalade breeder who had presented the affable Dundee to the Pirate\u2019s Chest. Their favorite restaurant was in the old Inglehart mansion.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Kip\u2019s first words were, \u201cMoira says you and Polly must come to dinner soon.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cPolly\u2019s leaving for Paris for two weeks,\u201d Qwilleran said, \u201cwith Shirley Bestover.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

When told the particulars, Kip asked, \u201cWho\u2019s planning their trip?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cIt appears there\u2019s a semiretired travel agent in Lockmaster, who will go along to see that they get the best of everything.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHim, I know him! He\u2019s an old rou\u00e9, but I suppose Polly and Shirley can handle him. You might tip them off.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

They talked about many things. \u201cIf you would syndicate your column in theLedger, we\u2019d run it on page one and it would double our circulation\u2026.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cWant to know something, Kip? Our office manager at the paper says that most of the mail that comes addressed to Koko has a Lockmaster postmark\u2026. You\u2019ve got a bunch of Koko-nuts around here.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

They mentioned the local election that was coming up. \u201cThe incumbent is sure to win,\u201d Kip said. \u201cThe challenger is confident, but\u2026as the saying goes, he couldn\u2019t get elected dogcatcher!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Then Kip made a suggestion that launched Qwilleran like a rocket. It was just what he needed under the present circumstances. \u201cWere you ever involved in the Theater of the Absurd?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cYes, I was in New York and saw it at its best. I always wanted to write an absurdist play, but never did.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThere\u2019s talk about a revival. Would you be interested?\u201d Kip asked.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\u201cHow about an original absurdist creation? How about:The Cat Who Was Elected Dogcatcher ?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Read the full book by downloading it below.<\/p>\n

DOWNLOAD EPUB<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Book Preview THE CAT WHO HAD 60 WHISKERS Lilian Jackson Braun THE CAT WHO HAD 60 WHISKERS G. P. PUTNAM\u2019S SONS Publishers Since 1838 Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA \u2022 Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1805,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[90],"class_list":["post-1806","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-lilian-jackson-braun"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1806","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1806"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1806\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1805"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1806"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1806"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1806"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}