No one discovered his absence until bedtime, for he had often been late before. ‘Where is Oxford?’ Miss Harvey asked Elvira. ‘Oxford! I don’t know,’ said Elvira, as she took off her hat and coat. ‘Why should I know where Oxford is? I didn’t take him to Boston with me.’ ‘I thought you might have some idea where he was,’ said Miss Harvey. ‘He never comes in for me.’ They went through the garden and the Wild Wood calling, ‘Oxford, Oxford, Oxford Gray, Junior.’ ‘Sometimes he’ll come in for the Junior,’ said Elvira, but there was no scampering of small feet and no furry face to be seen. ‘Cats certainly are the limit,’ said Elvira. ‘You get fond of one, and the first thing you know he’s off like a shot.’ ‘Sally looks very wise,’ said Miss Harvey, as they went back into the house. ‘I dare say she knows just where Oxford is.’ ‘I wish I did,’ Sally said, but no one heard her. ‘I fear he is in some miserable place, and hungry and cold.’ For it had begun to rain. Sally could hear the raindrops pattering down the window-pane. ‘This is a good little cat,’ and Elvira stroked Sally. ‘She never gives us any trouble.’ ‘She is a perfect lady, the sweetest little thing,’ said Miss Harvey, as Sally climbed into her lap. Sally put her two paws around Miss Harvey’s neck. It was not until after the third night that Sally began to worry, for Oxford had told her not to worry until after that. After the third night, she began to miss him very much, indeed. There had been a certain peace in his absence at first, but it seemed too peaceful now. Moreover, she had had much pleasant conversation with Captain Ebony Black, who had seen the world. He was a good-looking cat with his long-haired, glossy, black coat and white shirt-front. A black cat was an interesting variety in her life, and, although she knew that the tigers were of a nobler race, it made a pleasant change to see some one so different. Moreover, the black cat had said kind things to Sally, as kind things as Miss Harvey had said. But he had gone now, and so she had more time to worry about her brother. ‘I do hope he will realize there is no place like home before it is too late and something awful happens to him,’ said Sally, and she softly repeated the familiar words to herself: ‘“Mid pleasures and palaces, though I may roam; be it ever so humble, there’s no place like Home.”’ She hoped he would think of his basket and his little sister, and of kind Elvira who always warmed his milk, and of the haddock that she served for him. Nothing seemed the same without Oxford. When five days had gone by and still he did not come, gloom descended upon the household. ‘I knew something would happen to him,’ said Miss Winifred. ‘That is why I did not want another cat. Something always happens once I get attached to one.’ ‘He may turn up yet,’ said Miss Harvey. ‘He may turn up yet’--that sounded very hopeless. Had it come to that?