he added, and bang! one of his shoes hit the woodwork of the car.
"A mouse!" shrieked the elderly woman. "Did you say a mouse, young man?"
"I did—and there is more than one, too," answered Dave, for he had felt another movement at his feet. He lost no time in scrambling up, and Phil followed.
By this time the whole sleeping-car was in an uproar. Everybody who heard the word "mouse" felt certain one of the creatures must be in his or her berth.
"Porter! porter! save me!" screamed the elderly lady. "Oh, mice, just think of it!" And wrapping her dressing-gown around her, she leaped from her berth and sped for the ladies' room. Others also got up, including Dunston Porter and Roger.
"What am I going to do with this fellow?" asked Dave, as he held the mouse up in his vest.
"Better throw it out of a window," suggested his uncle. "Mice in a sleeper! This is certainly the limit!" he muttered. "The railroad company better get a new system of cleaning."
"Mice!" screamed a young lady. "Oh, I shall die!" she shrieked, and looked ready to faint.
"Shoot 'em, why don't you?" suggested a fat
