“Good for you.... And now, about this patent—I’ll mail you the papers in a day or two, and you have your father sign them and hurry them right back.” “You bet,” says Catty. We went out and took the train for home. On the way we tried to figure out about Kinderhook, but it didn’t come. We said we would just have to watch and grab whatever chance came along. “And say,” says Catty, “don’t talk to anybody about this patent table ... not even your Dad or mine. I don’t want Dad to know yet. This here is my secret.” “What’s the idee?” says I. “You wait and see,” says he. “So long as nobody but me knows, there hain’t any danger of anybody else findin’ out.” CHAPTER XVII It was the day after we got back from the city that Catty and I were walking along the street toward the hotel on a sort of a still hunt for Arthur Peabody Kinderhook, when Banty Gage and Skoodles Gordon came along from the direction of the Methodist church. Catty and I weren’t thinking about kids at all, but about Kinderhook and how we were going to catch him at whatever it was he was doing. We didn’t have any time to monkey with kids just then, but it looked like Banty and Skoodles calculated to do some monkeying with us. As soon as they saw us they set up a holler and began making luny motions with their hands. I expect they had an idea they were cutting up a smart caper, but I didn’t see it that way, and I guess Catty didn’t, either. I know he didn’t as soon as Banty started to yell names at him and call him a tramp and a jail-bird. At that Catty turned kind of white and his lips got thin and straight, and his eyes got so they were kind of unpleasant to look at. He walked a little bit faster, but otherwise he didn’t make any sign. Banty and Skoodles came right on, still bellowing at Catty. I guess they felt safe because they were right on Main Street and a lot of people were around. But they didn’t know Catty. When Catty had a job of work to do he never bothered about how many folks were around to see him do it. All he thought of was that it had to be done, and that the time to do it was _then_. He waited till Banty and Skoodles were right in front of us, and then he stopped. “Wait a minute,” says he. “Tramp,” says Banty. “Ragamuffin,” says Skoodles. Catty turned to me. “You keep out of this,” says he. “It’s my job, private. I got to tend to it alone. No matter what happens, you keep out.” “I won’t,” says I. “You will,” says he, “or I’ll try to lick you when I’m done with these.” That was like him, too. He didn’t say he _would_ lick me, but that he would _try_ to lick me. It was that kind of a polite way he had that was natural. Dad says Catty was a gentleman by instinct. It wouldn’t have been friendly if he had said he would lick me, but there was a kind of a sort of courtesy about his doubting whether he could. Anyhow, he walked straight up to Banty and Skoodles.