The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers Read Online Free PDF

you know what I heard today? Nathan’s will stipulated that some of his small collectibles should be gradually sold off to provide ongoing funds for child welfare.”
    And so it went until it was time for “À bientôt.”
    He combed Mosses from an Old Manse for details that might appear in the Ledfields’ Old Manse. He had read the book twice before—once in college and once when he received a copy from the library of the fabulous Agatha Burns.
    Agatha was a favorite name in Moose County; after all, the great teacher had lived to be a hundred and had inspired several generations.
    Late that evening—after the Siamese were escorted to their quarters on the third balcony, and after Qwilleran had treated himself to a dish of ice cream—he wrote in his journal:
    Today I found another clue to the Mystery of the Corrugated Box!
    First, I had brought it home from Edd Smith’s Place, full of fine old books donated by the Campbells in Purple Point, and Koko went crazy, not over the books but over the box! Why?
    Investigation indicated that the Campbells had bought something from the Ledfields, and it came packed in the large brown corrugated box. Now we hear that valuable items are being sold at the bequest of the Ledfield will!
    I brought the box from the tool shed, where it sported a do-not-discard sign. I brought it in for Koko’s scrutiny, and he went wild again! Why?
    The Ledfields had no indoor pets, I’m told. Was there some other kind of aroma that might tickle Koko’s whiskers? If so, what?
    When I return from my assignment at the Old Manse tomorrow, will that cat know where I’ve been ?
    Tune in for the next installment.
    As he wrote, Qwilleran became aware of thundering paws coming down the ramp from the third balcony. Koko had opened his bedroom door by hanging on the lever-type door handle, a technique he used in emergencies. At the same time Qwilleran heard fire sirens, and from the kitchen window could be seen a pink glow in the dark sky visible above the treetops. Another siren sounded—then another. It sounded like a serious conflagration downtown!
    Qwilleran grabbed the phone and called the night desk at the newspaper. “This is Qwill! Where’s the fire?”
    â€œDowntown! The Old Hulk! Can’t talk now!” He hung up with a bang.
    Qwilleran phoned the McBee farm on the back road, where both the farmer and his brother were volunteer firemen.
    Mrs. McBee said, “It’s awful! Someone torched the Old Hulk!”
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    After talking to Mrs. McBee, Qwilleran wrote in his journal:
    The Old Hulk is a big wooden box on the southwest edge of Pickax with the height of a five-story building and the shape of a coffin. No windows. It was once a depot and warehouse for feed and seed, and farmers came in horse-drawn wagons from three counties to stock up. The interior was a series of lofts connected by ramps. With the advent of paved roads and motor vehicles it was replaced by smaller depots around the county, but the dirty-tan exterior still said FEED AND SEED across the top in letters four feet high, and the eyesore became lovingly known as the Old Hulk. And the stories they tell about it are nothing you would want to tell to your kids and mother-in-law.
    Despite the building’s appearance and reputation, no one wanted the city to tear it down. But now it has burned down!

FIVE
    Moose County was in shock. Police called it arson. Ruffians from Bixby County had torched the Old Hulk.
    Qwilleran went to Lois’s Luncheonette for coffee and the public reaction to the disaster. Although the Old Hulk was empty and only the shell of the senior center and could be rebuilt, it was the idea of the crime that rankled. When the newspaper hit the streets, there were statements from city officials, clergy, the donors of the property, retirees, students. Funds would be available to build the Senior Health Club from scratch, but it was the loss of the Old