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 mewed twice softly, but there was no response.

"Let me call the dogs," said Frisky; and he growled deep, but there was still no answer.

"I am afraid we are too late," said Frisky mournfully; "I guess they are all dead."

They went all about the growl-box and examined it on every side, and finally Dandy found a small door at the back. "Here is the back door of the growl-box," he said; "you stay and watch, and I will go in to the poor cats."

So Master Frisky watched, and Dandy poked his way in. It was very dark and dusty, and he sighed as he thought of his friends in that musty place all their lives.

"It's an awful queer place," he called to Master Frisky; "I guess they"—but the rest of the sentence was drowned by a loud bang. The door by which Dandy had found his way into the growl-box had blown together, and had shut with a spring lock, not to open until the key had been applied.

"What makes it so dark?" asked Dandy.

"The door has blown together and I cannot get it open," said Frisky, with a scared little bark.

"Push hard," said Dandy.

Frisky pushed with all his might, but it would not give an inch. "I never can get it open," he whined.

"Then I shall always have to stay in here,"