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 of compassion the girls fed him; but when a week had passed they decided that something must be done. The cat’s appearance had improved. His eye and cheek had resumed their normal appearance; he was not quite so thin; and he had been seen washing his face.

“But for all that we can’t keep him,” said Stella. “Aunt Jimsie is coming next week and she will bring the Sarah-cat with her. We can’t keep two cats; and if we did this Rusty Coat would fight all the time with the Sarah-cat. He’s a fighter by nature. He had a pitched battle last evening with the tobacco-king’s cat and routed him, horse, foot and artillery.”

“We must get rid of him,” agreed Anne, looking darkly at the subject of their discussion, who was purring on the hearth rug with an air of lamb-like meekness. “But the question is—how? How can four unprotected females get rid of a cat who won’t be got rid of?”

“We must chloroform him,” said Phil briskly. “That is the most humane way.”

“Who of us knows anything about chloroforming a cat?” demanded Anne gloomily.

“I do, honey. It’s one of my few—sadly few—useful accomplishments. I’ve disposed of several at home. You take the cat in the morning and give him a good breakfast. Then you take an old burlap bag—there’s one in the back porch—put the cat on it and turn over him a wooden box. Then take a two-ounce bottle of chloroform, uncork it, and slip it under the