Anton and Cecil, Book 2 by Lisa Martin Page A

that he pulled it back a bit on its track, a space just big enough to let a little light and air in, and a cat, if he had a mind to leave, out.
    The dog got up and lapped at his water, without speaking. Cecil sniffed, then tried a mouthful of the food in the bowl, working his jaws over it carefully. “It’s not good,” he pronounced. “But it’s not bad.”
    The dog came to his grate and looked at his travel companions, his tongue out, panting. He had a dark, smushed-looking snout and big, brown, bulging eyes that made him look like he was horrified by what he saw. But evidently he wasn’t.
    â€œI’ve never seen cats on a train before,” he said. “Did somebody put you on here? I think you must be in the wrong car.”
    Anton went over and looked through the bars at the little dog. “We got on by ourselves,” he replied. “We’re going to wherever this thing goes to help a friend in need. My name is Anton, and that’s my brother Cecil.”
    The dog made a snuffling sound, then ran his bright pink tongue across his black lips. “What do you mean, you got on by yourselves? Animals don’t just get on trains like that. And anyway, you got on the wrong car. This car is for dogs. Obviously.”
    â€œThat man seemed to think it was for cats, too,” Cecil observed from his station by the food bowl. “He brought us dinner.”
    The dog snorted. “He’s just uninformed. Cats and dogs don’t travel together. Everybody knows that.”
    â€œHave you been on a train before?” Anton asked.
    â€œI’ve made this trip five times, and I don’t like it one bit.”
    â€œIt doesn’t seem so bad to me,” said Cecil. “There’s lots of room and they serve meals. It takes you where you want to go. I like it fine.”
    â€œThat’s easy for you to say,” the dog replied. “You’re not stuck in a steaming hot box.”
    â€œYeah,” Anton agreed. “That’s not so great.”
    A loud whistle interrupted this conversation, followed by a ringing bell. A powerful vibration ran across the floor, followed by a rough, clanking jolt to the whole car, first one way, then the other. A man shouted something.
    â€œWe’re pulling out of the station,” the dog informed Anton. “There’s no turning back now.”
    Cecil dashed to the door and looked out as the chuffing sound grew louder and a hot blast of air swept in from outside. “Whoa,” he said. “So this is a landship . . . I mean, a train. It’s amazing!”
    Anton was studying the latch on the dog’s crate. “What’s your name?” he said, as he brought his paw to the metal plate.
    â€œI’m Willy,” said the dog.
    â€œWell, Willy,” Anton said. “I think you may be glad you got to travel with a couple of cats.”
    Willy, panting miserably, didn’t seem to notice Anton’s paw working around the latch. “I guess it will kill time to have somebody to talk to,” he admitted.
    â€œYou can give us the benefit of your travel experience,” Anton agreed.
    Cecil, turning away from the view, joined his brother at the crate and peered in. He saw that there was a blanket folded at the back, and something round and red in one corner. He thought it must be some stuff to keep the dog comfortable while he traveled.
    Cecil watched Anton’s paw on the latch and recalled the time he’d opened a pirate’s chest by pressing on the lid. “Try pushing on it,” he suggested.
    Anton slid his paw along the latch, pressing and pressing. “I’m not getting anywhere,” he said.
    Willy finally noticed Anton’s paw. “Hey, what are you doing to my cage?” he snapped. “You don’t know anything about these; they’re for dogs. You’ll break it, and then I’ll never get out!”
    â€œLet me give it a try,”