Dave Porter on Cave Island: or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission

“Say, wot yo’-all talkin’ about?” demanded the porter. “Dem mice yours?”

“Yes! yes! Oh, please do not kill them!” pleaded the tall, thin man. “They won’t hurt anybody, really they won’t.”

“Say, are them white mice educated?” demanded the fat man.

“Indeed they are – I educated them myself,” answered the other man. “I spent months in doing it, too. They are the best-educated white mice in the United States,” he added, proudly.

CHAPTER XVI – PICKING UP THE TRAIL

The announcement that the mice that had been caught in the car were educated filled the boys with interest, but it did not lessen their indignation nor that of the other passengers.

“The idea of mice on the train, even if they are educated!” shrilled the elderly lady.

“It’s outrageous!” stormed another lady. “I never heard of such a thing in all my life!”

“Say, you must take this for a cattle train!” remarked the fat man, bluntly. “If you do, you’ve got another guess coming.”

“Oh, my dear, sweet mice,” said the tall, slim man, as he took the animal from Dave and also the one that Phil was holding. “That is King Hal and this one is President Tom! They are both highly educated. They can – ”

“Say, howsoeber did yo’-all git dem trash in dis cah!” demanded the porter.

“I – er – I had them in a cage in my – er – in my suit-case,” the owner of the mice answered, and now his voice faltered. “I really didn’t think they would get out.”

“We don’t allow no mice in de sleepin’-cahs!” stormed the porter. “Dogs, an’ cats, an’ parrots, an’ mice goes in de baggage-cah.”

“Are there any more of them loose?” asked one of the ladies.

“I will see!” cried the tall, slim man. “I forgot about that! Oh, I hope they are safe! If they are not, what shall I do? I have an engagement in Jacksonville, and another in St. Augustine, to fill.”

“Do you show ’em on the stage?” snorted the fat man.

“To be sure. Haven’t you heard of me, Professor Richard De Haven, the world-famous trainer of mice, rats, and cats? I have exhibited my mice in all the countries of the world, and – ”

“Never mind that just now,” interrupted Dunston Porter. “Go and see if the others are safe, otherwise we’ll have to round up your live-stock before we go to sleep again.”

“Oh, I shall never sleep another wink in this car!” sighed a lady.

“I shall!” snorted the fat man, “or else get the price of my berth out of that chap, or the railroad company!”

Professor De Haven ran to his berth and dragged forth a dress-suit-case. A moment later he uttered a genuine howl of dismay.

“They are all gone!”

“How many?” queried Dave, who had followed him.

“Sixteen of them, not counting the two I have here now! O dear, what shall I do?” And the professor wrung his hands in despair.

“Sixteen mice at large!” shrieked one of the ladies. “Oh, stop the train! I want to get off!”

“Can’t stop no train now,” answered the porter. “We’se got to jest catch dem mice somehow, but I dunno how it’s gwine to be done,” he went on, scratching his woolly head in perplexity.

“I’ve got a shotgun along,” suggested the fat man. “Might go gunning with that.”

“I’ll get my cane,” said another man.

“I guess the ladies better retire to the next car,” suggested a third passenger.

“Yes, yes, let us go, at once!” cried the elderly lady. “Porter, can I get a berth there?”

“Sorry, missus, but I dun reckon all de berths on dis yeah train am tooken.”

“See here!” cried Dave, to Professor De Haven. “If the mice are educated, can’t you call them to you in some way?”

“To be sure!” cried the professor, struck by the idea. “Why did I not think of that myself? I was too upset to think of anything. Yes, I can whistle for them.”

“Whistle for ’em?” snorted the fat man.

“Yes, yes! I always whistle when I feed them. Please be quiet. I shall have to whistle loudly, for the train makes such a noise and it may be some of my dear pets may not hear me!”

“Humph! Then you better whistle for all you’re worth!” returned the man of weight.

Walking slowly up and down the sleeping-car Professor De Haven commenced to whistle in a clear, steady trill. He kept this up for fully a minute and by that time several white mice had shown themselves. They were somewhat scared, but gradually they came to him and ran up on his shoulders.

“Well, doesn’t that beat the Dutch!” whispered Roger, half in admiration.

“I shouldn’t have been so scared if I had known they were educated,” returned Phil.

“Hush!” said Dave. “Give him a chance to gather them all in.”

Placing the captured mice in their cage, the professor moved up and down the car once more, opening the berth curtains as he did so. He continued to emit that same clear trill, and soon his shoulders were full of the white mice.

“Only one is missing, little General Pinky,” he announced.

“Spit, spat, spow! Where did Pinky go?” murmured Phil.

“Ha! I have him! Dear little Pinky!” cried the professor, as the mouse dropped onto his shoulder from an upper berth. “Now I have them all, ladies and gentlemen,” he announced. “You can go to sleep without alarm. I shall take good care that they do not get away again.”

“I dun reckon I’se gwine to take care of dat!” put in the porter. “Dem mice am gwine into de baggage-cah dis minit!”

“But, my dear fellow – ” broke in the professor.

“I ain’t a-gwine to argy de question, mistah. Da is gwine in de baggage-cah!” And the porter reached out and caught hold of the cage containing the mice.

“Then I shall go with them,” answered the professor, resignedly.

“Suit yo’ self, sah.”

“But they wouldn’t hurt a flea!”