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half-glasses.
    â€œYes?” he asked in a soft voice. “How do you think I can help you?”
    â€œMr. Allen?” asked Jessie again.
    â€œI am he,” said the man. “You must be the Aldens.”
    â€œYes,” Jessie said. Quickly she and the others introduced themselves.
    â€œI don’t see how I can help you with a missing cat,” said Mr. Allen. “All of my cats are here where they should be. I assure you, I would know if any cats were around that didn’t belong.”
    Jessie stepped forward and held out the photograph of Spotzie. Mr. Allen bent and squinted down at it without taking the picture out of Jessie’s hand.
    â€œThis is the lost cat, I presume,” he said after a lengthy silence.
    â€œIt is!” burst out Benny. “Spotzie. She’s lost and we have to find her so we can take her home.”
    â€œI wish I could be of help, young man. But my cats are registered purebreds, very valuable. Not a cat like this one.”
    â€œNo spotted cats?” asked Benny.
    â€œNo.” Mr. Allen shook his head, then hesitated. Finally he said, “Why don’t you come see for yourself.”
    Once again, the Aldens found themselves following someone through the mansion. This time, Mr. Allen led them to a long, luxurious room.
    Benny’s eyes got very large when he saw the room. Like the back room at Professor Madison’s house, it was filled with cats. But the room and the cats were very different.
    The room seemed as big as Professor Madison’s whole house. It was lined with cages. Most of the cages had the doors open so that the cats could come and go as they pleased. Every cage was elaborately decorated like a little house, with windows that had curtains. There was a nameplate on each door. Dishes with food and water sat in front of each cage. On the dishes were names that matched the nameplates on the cage doors. Toy mice and scratching posts and little balls and all kinds of cat toys were scattered everywhere.
    A dainty silver cat with dark brown markings on her head, paws, and tail jumped down from atop a cat house and ran lightly toward them. She wound herself in and out between Mr. Allen’s legs as he tried to walk.
    Mr. Allen laughed and bent over to pet her. “There you go, Blue. This is Blue. She’s a chocolate-point Siamese.”

    â€œOh! Her eyes are blue,” said Benny. “Is she still a kitten?”
    â€œNo, Siamese have blue eyes their whole lives,” Mr. Allen told Benny.
    â€œWhat kind of cat is that?” asked Soo Lee, pointing to a big white cat with long hair and a mashed-in face that made it look unhappy.
    â€œThat’s Ralph. He’s a champion longhaired Persian,” said Mr. Allen, picking up the cat and stroking his luxurious fur. “In fact, all my cats are champions. However, some, like Blue, are retired. But as you can see, I have no cats like yours.”
    â€œYou have so many different kinds!” exclaimed Jessie.
    â€œMy goal is to have at least one of every breed. And I very nearly do,” said Mr. Allen, looking proud. “Cats are amazing creatures.”
    â€œI like cats, too,” said Benny. “I like your cats. And Spotzie.”
    â€œI’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” said Mr. Allen. He led them back out of the cats’ room and toward the front door. “Your cat is an ordinary cat, though, so it would be unlikely I would have her, don’t you think? All my cats are rare and expensive.”
    â€œEvery cat is special in its own way,” said Violet loyally. “Including Spotzie.”
    Mr. Allen looked at Violet in surprise. A funny look came over his face. Then he said, “I’m sure she is,” and led them all to the front door. He opened it. “If I hear anything at all about your cat, I’ll certainly get in touch.”
    â€œThank you,” said Henry, and the five Aldens left.
    No one said