With that the policeman reached up, lifted down the China Cat, and thrust her into an inside pocket, where his rubber coat would keep her nice and dry.
"Though if he only knew it," thought the China Cat, "I'd just as soon be rained on a little, to clean me off. Oh, but I am so dirty!"
However, the policeman did not stop to think that perhaps the Cat might like to be cleaned. In fact, he did not think she had any feelings at all, for it was a long while since he had been little enough to play with toys and enjoy make believe games.
Into his pocket went the China Cat. Then the policeman looked at the Cloth Dog on the shelf.
"You never came from the toy shop, that's certain," said the officer. "No use taking you!"
So he left the poor Cloth Dog, without any tail, alone on the kitchen shelf, but he took the China Cat away with him in his pocket, the policeman did.
Out into the rain-soaked street the officer made his way once more.
"Nobody left in here, Jim," he called to the other officer on the police wagon. "Get those people to the station, and then come back. There's a lot more who will have to be rescued this night. It's going to be a bad flood."
And so it was, though the China Cat saw little of it, for she was safe and snug in the officer's pocket. It was black and dark in there, but it was warm, though a bit smothery. And it was clean, which the China Cat liked best of all.
"Though I am very dirty myself," she said. "I hope I get somewhere so I can wash."
All night long the rescue of people from the flood was kept up. Jeff and his family were taken to a place of refuge where they were given something to eat and beds on which to lie down. All night long the policemen worked, and when morning came all those who had been in danger were saved.
The officer who had the China Cat in his pocket walked into his station house just as day was breaking.
"Here is something you'll like to hear about," said the policeman to the sergeant behind the desk, as he set the toy on the top of it.
"A cat! My land! where'd you get her?" asked the sergeant. "She'll be just what we want to catch mice around here! Here, puss, puss!" he called.
"Oh, my! he thinks I'm alive," said the China Cat to herself.
CHAPTER VIII. JENNIE GETS THE CAT
The policeman who had rescued the China Cat from the flood in the basement of the negro tenement stood and looked at the sergeant behind the desk in the station house. Then the policeman looked at the China Cat which he had set on top of the desk.
"What's the matter with you? Why are you acting so funny?" asked the sergeant of the policeman.
"Funny? I'm not acting funny. You are," the policeman laughed.
"How am I funny?" the sergeant wanted to know.
"Why, you're calling that cat, and asking her to catch mice, and-"
"Of course I'm asking her to catch mice," said the sergeant. "There's a lot of mice around here and-"
"Ha! Ha!" laughed the policeman. "That cat will never catch any mice. She's a toy, a China Cat, and she was stolen from that toy shop where there was a fire yesterday. It was Horatio Mugg's place. A lot of the toys were set out on the sidewalk, and some negroes who live near by walked off with quite a lot. Mr. Mugg, after the fire, made out a list of his toys that were missing, and among them was this China Cat. I had one of the lists.
"Then, when I was sent to rescue the people from the flood, I saw this Cat on the mantel. I brought her here, as I do with all stolen things I find, and you can send her back to Mr. Mugg."
The sergeant put on his glasses, for he was rather an elderly man, and looked carefully at the China Cat.
"Bless me!" exclaimed the sergeant, "she is a China Cat after all. I took her for a real black and white pussy."
"Oh, dear me!" thought the China Cat. "He thought I was partly black! I must be very dirty indeed. My toy friends would never know me! Oh, shall I ever be clean again?"
"Yes, it is only a toy China Cat," said the policeman who had rescued the pussy, as well as the negro family. "I guess she was pure white once. But she got blackened in the fire, and it didn't wash off in the flood, though goodness knows it rained enough!"
"I should say so," agreed the sergeant. "Well, leave the China Cat here, and I will send her back to Mr. Mugg. You didn't see any of his other stolen toys, did you?"
"No," the policeman answered, "I did not. There was a little Cloth Dog on the same shelf, but he had no tail and one eye was almost gone, so I knew he didn't belong in the toy store, and I let him stay there."
"Poor little Cloth Dog!" thought the China Cat. "I wonder what will become of him?"
However, she never heard, nor did she ever again see her little friend without any tail. But I might tell you that the little Cloth Dog was still on the mantel when the flood went down and Jeff and the family moved back into their basement. The Cloth Dog was not drowned, and he lived for many years after that, even without his tail, though I cannot say he was very happy.
"Well, you take care of the China Cat. I am going to get my breakfast," said the policeman who had brought the white pussy into the station house.
"I'll take care of her, and send her back to Mr. Mugg as soon as I have a chance," the sergeant promised.
Then he set the China Cat off the top of the big desk, and on a smaller one, so she would not get broken. All the remainder of the morning the China Cat was in the police station, though she was not arrested, you understand. Oh, my, no! She had done nothing wrong, even though she was very dirty. But of course being dirty was not her fault.
The China Cat saw many strange sights as she sat in the police station, and some of the sights were sad ones. She heard much about the flood, too, for it was a very high one, the river having overflowed its banks in many places.
At last all the poor people were rescued, and the police sergeant, who had been very busy, was given a few moments' rest. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the China Cat.
"I think I shall telephone Mr. Mugg and tell him to come here and get his China Cat," the sergeant said. "This may not be his toy. It may have been stolen from some other store. But I'll soon find out."
So the police sergeant telephoned to Mr. Mugg. The toy-store keeper and his daughters, Angelina and Geraldine, were very busy, getting things to rights after the fire. It had not been as bad as was at first supposed, being down in the basement. Some smoke and water got up on the main floor, however, but this was soon cleaned up and the store put to rights again.
"What's that?" cried Mr. Mugg over the telephone, though of course the China Cat could not hear what he said. "You have my white China Cat? Oh, I am so glad! I'll be right down to get her."
"All right," answered the sergeant. "She is here waiting for you. Though I would not call her very white," he added as he hung up the telephone.
"What do you think of that, Geraldine-Angelina!" called Mr. Mugg to his two daughters. "Our China Cat, that was stolen when the toys were carried out on account of the fire, has been found!"