just donât want to do anything before we have the facts, thatâs all. The man should still be treated fairly.â
Clay turned back to the window and frowned. âI guess,â he grumbled.
So they waited, and as soon as Georgie Cooper went to town on his lunch break, the Aldens and the Shermans ambled through the flowers to the farm-equipment graveyard.
âHe lifted this with one hand?â Clay said, looking down at the old overturned trough.
Jessie nodded. âUh-huh. Lifted it as if it were made of cardboard.â
âHow can one man do that?â
Henry got a hand under it and said, âOkay, Iâm going to need some help here.â
The Aldens lined up next to one another and wiggled their fingers underneath. When they were ready, Henry said, âOkay, here we go. One ⦠two ⦠three !â
They moaned and groaned and pulled their hardest, and slowly the trough began rising. Once it was high enough, Clay and Dottie wedged wooden poles under it to keep it up.
Wiping his hands off, Henry said, âWhew, that was pretty heav ââ
âOh, my goodness, look!â Violet said, pointing underneath.
There was no bottle of Menadrin anywhere in sight, nor any other kind of chemical that could stop bees from making honey. Instead there was one large gray-and-white cat with a family of tiny kittens attached to her belly, drinking her milk. The mother catâs eyes were wide with fear.
Benny smiled brightly. âLook at the kitties!â he cried delightedly.
âOh, theyâre beautiful!â Violet declared.
âFood,â Jessie said flatly, hands on her hips. âThat had to be what he had in his pocket both times. Heâs been feeding them.â
âAnd giving them milk,â Dottie added. âLook at the bowl.â
There was a small plastic bowl nearby filled with milk.
Clay took off his farmerâs hat and scratched the top of his head. âWell, Iâll be darned. Kittens. He was sneaking down here to feed them!â He looked at his wife. âI wonder why he hid them.â
âHe seems to have thought heâd get in trouble if we knew about them,â Dottie said. âFirst I didnât like him, and then you didnât like him. He probably didnât want to take a chance that weâd be mad about the kittens.â
Clay looked back at the furry family and shook his head. âWeâve had him figured all wrong, Dot. Both of us.â
Dottie nodded reluctantly. âYeah, we sure have.â
CHAPTER 7
More Spying Eyes
W hen Georgie came back from lunch, the Aldens and the Shermans met with him in the farmyard and told him they found the mother cat and her kittens. For a moment he looked worried.
âAw, gee, Iâm sorry, Mr. Sherman.â¦â he said, in a voice that was surprisingly soft for a man of his size. âI was going to try and find a home for them myself, but the mama wouldnât budge, so I had to feed her, and check on her, and get her milk ⦠and then I was worried youâd think I wasnât doing the job you hired me to do.â
âOh, Georgie, weâre not mad at all,â said Dottie, and the children could see that she and Clay felt bad about doubting Georgie. âIn fact,â she said, smiling at the kittens, âweâre happy to have these new residents at Sherman Farm.â
âI know a spot in the barn where we can set up a crate for them,â said Clay. He showed Georgie a warm corner near the horse stalls, and before long they had carefully moved the cat family to their new home.
It would be part of Georgieâs daily chores to make sure they had plenty of milk, food, and clean hay to sleep on. The Aldens thought theyâd never seen anyone as happy as Georgie was when he heard all this.
In the Shermansâ kitchen afterward, however, the good mood quickly drifted away.
âOkay, so if it wasnât Georgie, then it has