"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.
