"I can't understand why Bumbus wanted to take that note away from me," Billy said to himself as he floated along. "First he and Nickel Plate employed me to carry it and now he tries to hinder me. Why of course—I know—he is aware that Princess Honey Girl has told me her story and fears that when once I do find Bogie Man I will vanquish him—so I shall, too. I wonder what the future will bring."

"Won't you have your fortune told sir?" and Billy looked up to see sailing along at his side a very old, very withered woman sitting on a broom.

"Why it's a witch," said Billy.

"I'm not a which, I'm a Was," said the old woman.

"Oh! I beg your pardon, ma'am," said Billy, "I saw that you were riding a broom."

"Well what of it—the broom's willing."

"I didn't mean it that way," began Billy.

"Oh! you mean you meant it any way. But this is not having your fortune told," interrupted the old woman. "Come right into the house."

And sure enough Billy discovered that he was standing in front of a little old house, as wrinkled and ugly and out of repair as the old woman.

"What town is this?" he asked.

"Superstitionburg—don't bump into the ladder."

"What is that for?"

"Oh! we all have ladders over our doors here for bad luck. Sit down and I'll get the cards and tell your fortune."

"Thank you," said Billy, "will it be true?"

"No, of course not. Ah—h! you have lately had serious trouble."

"That's true," said Billy.

"Then I've made a mistake. You will marry a tall, short, blonde dark complected man."

"Hold on," said Billy, "I'm a boy—how can I marry a man?"

"There I knew something was wrong. I have the deck of cards that I tell ladies' fortunes with—shall I try it over again?"

"No, I think not," said Billy, "I must be going."

"Purr-r-r-r-r, Purr-r-r-r," and a great black, hump-backed cat with glaring green eyes and nine long black tails rubbed against his leg.

"Oh!" he cried, "what a large cat."

"Yes," said the old woman, "that's my black cat-o-nine tails. I'm very proud of him, he's the unluckiest cat of the entire thirteen in Superstitionburg."

"Unlucky?"

"Yes, the cats always sit thirteen at table for bad luck. As there never is more than enough for twelve and as he always gets his share he brings bad luck to one of the cats every meal. Isn't that nice?"

"But isn't that hard on the extra cat?"

"Oh! no they don't mind at all—it's so good for the digestion."

"Won't you have a cup of poison before you go?"

"Poison?" said Billy, edging toward the door.

"Yes. I have some lovely poison, I brewed it myself; do have some."

"No thank you, I—I really am not thirsty, and I must go."

"I don't see how you are going to get away now, the town guard knows you are here and is bound to arrest you if your eyes are not crossed."

"What have I done?" asked Billy.

"Nothing, only it's not bad luck to meet a straight-eyed person, and if you can't bring somebody bad luck you're not allowed in the city."

"But how do they know I am here?"

"Their noses are itching because a stranger has come to call. Their noses are very sensitive to strangers. It makes them such careful guards."

"Have they guns?" asked Billy.

"Oh! yes, they all have guns that are not loaded."

"Oh! well, then, they can't shoot me."

"I guess you don't know much about guns—because it is always guns that are not loaded that shoot people."

"That's so, I had forgotten," said Billy. "But as you are a witch, can't you——"

"I am a Was, remember."

"I mean as you are a Was—can't you help me?"

"I can lend you my invisible cloak," said the old woman, going to a closet and taking nothing out of it. "Here it is," handing Billy nothing at all very carefully.

"But where is it?" asked Billy.

"I just gave it to you."

"I don't see it."

"Of course not—it's invisible."

"Then if I put it on will it make me invisible?"

"Certainly not—it's the cloak that's invisible."

"Have you anything else?" asked Billy.

"Yes, I have the wishing bottle."

"Shall I be able to see that?"

"Oh! yes—here it is."

"Why that's hair dye, it says on the label."

"Sh-h—don't speak so loud—that's all it is, but you see it turns the hair so black that it almost makes it invisible. It's the best I can do for you. But don't tell anyone—it would ruin my reputation as a cuperess."

"A cuperess?" asked Billy.

"Yes, I cast charms."

"What kind?"

"All kinds but watch charms."

"I thought that was a sorceress."

"I used to be, but it's rude to drink poison out of a saucer now, and so I am a cuperess."

"Thank you very much for the wishing bottle," said Billy. "I don't know that I shall need it, but I'll take it anyway."

"Bad luck to you," called the old woman. "By the way where are you going now?"

"To Bogie Man's House," answered Billy.

"What have I done—what have I done—I'll have to stop him—if I only hadn't been a Was I might have guessed this was the boy," said the old woman, wringing her hands.

But Billy didn't hear this; he was busy examining the left hind foot of a rabbit displayed in a shop window.

"My cats," cried she, "I'll send them after him," and opening an inner door she called:

As each name was called, out ran a great black hump-backed cat-o'-nine-tails, and by the time she was done the thirteen of them were standing in front of her, their 117 tails swishing back and forth with a noise like a hurricane. "Run and catch that boy for me," said she, pointing to Billy. And off they scampered.

"What a wind is coming up," said Billy to himself when he heard the cats behind him.

"Meow-w-w—"

And turning round he saw the great cats bounding after him.

"They're after me—I'm sure," he said to himself, "but I can jump."

Alas for Billy, he was standing under a ladder when he spoke, and when he jumped "bump" he hit his head on the topmost rung.

Quick as a flash he reached out his hand and caught the ladder—and there he hung, dangling in mid air with thirteen great cats meowing and spitting and yowling on the ground just out of reach of his feet.

"This won't do—they will climb the ladder in a moment. The wishing bottle: maybe I can blind them with the dye." Holding on tight with one hand, he fished the bottle out of his pocket. "If I only had something to turn them into white cats," he said, staring at the bottle, "maybe they would become harmless."

And just at that minute a thought struck him so hard that it almost knocked loose his hold on the ladder.

"This is black dye," said he; "perhaps if I reverse the label, it will become white dye. I'll try it anyway."

And quick as thought he had loosened the label and turned it upside down. Certain it is that the contents of the bottle changed to a snow-white on the instant.

Out came the cork. "Blub—blub—gog—gurgle, splash," and the cats were drenched with the liquid. "Pouf," and where Billy had seen thirteen black cats appeared thirteen snow-white ones.

The cats looked at one another in astonishment for a moment, and then forgetting all about Billy, began to flog one another with their nine tails.

"White ca-a-a-a-at—meow—flog him out of town," and off they went flogging each other mercilessly, each one thinking that he was the only black cat in the whole town and determined to beat the strangers out of Superstitionburg.

"There's some good in hair dye after all," laughed Billy, and dropping to the ground, he stepped from under the ladder, leaped into the air, and bade farewell to Superstitionburg for ever and ever.