Anton and Cecil Read Online Free Page A

something?” he asked.
    Cecil’s head came up. A small bluish creature struggled between his powerful jaws. “Crab,” he said through the helplessly flailing claws.
    â€œYum,” said Anton, who hadn’t eaten since morning.
    Cecil flung the crab across the rocks, where it landed at his brother’s front paws. “You can have him,” he said. “My sailors gave me so much fish today, I’m stuffed.”
    Anton pawed the crab and sunk his teeth into the still soft shell. My sailors? he thought. “Thanks,” he said.
    â€œDid you see the big ship that came in this morning? It has four masts. Billy called it a barque. You can hardly get across the dock for all the crates they took off it. All my sailors were gathered round it like it was a wonder of the world.”
    Anton pulled off a claw with his teeth and swallowed it whole. “Didn’t see it,” he mumbled. “I was sleeping.”
    â€œIt’s no way to live the way you’re living, brother,” Cecil cautioned. “You’re in the pub all night and you sleep all day. You’re not eating. You’ll lose your edge and won’t be able to catch your dinner.”
    Anton finished off the crab and sat licking his whiskers clean. There was no point in arguing with Cecil when he was in his know-it-all mood, but Anton couldn’t resist. “A cat who is stuffed with fish all day by sailors can’t be called much more than a pet.”
    â€œWhat can I do?” Cecil replied. “I’m not going to turn down a nice piece of mackerel. That would be crazy.”
    Anton gazed out over the dark water. “Are there any more of these crabs?”
    â€œThere’s a bunch of them. They’re having a party in the rocks.”
    Anton smiled at the idea of a crab party. “I think I’ll go spoil the fun,” he said. He stretched his legs and arched his back, limbering up for the sport.
    â€œI’m not a pet,” Cecil said.
    â€œThey call you by a name,” Anton replied. “You’ll end up as fat as old Billy at the harbormaster’s office; they call him Fletcher. His stomach swings like a bag of clamshells.”
    â€œI’m not a pet, I’m a sailor.”
    â€œWhat do they call you?”
    â€œBlackie. Blackjack. Sometimes Lucky Black.”
    â€œWhat does it mean?”
    â€œI have no idea.”
    Anton raised a paw and extended his claws, then picked at a clot of something between his toes.
    â€œDon’t you want to come see the barque?” Cecil asked.
    â€œYou know Mother has warned us about those ships. They don’t come sailing back every day like the schooners. They go out for months on end. Some never come back again. Promise me you won’t go hanging around and get impressed on one of those things.”
    â€œThey won’t be taking cats tonight; they just got here.”
    â€œI’m still hungry,” Anton said.
    â€œI’ll wait for you. It’s bigger than a building. It has at least a thousand sails.”
    Anton chuckled. “A thousand sails,” he said.
    â€œWell, a hundred.”
    â€œIf I go with you to see this ship, will you come listen to the shanties at the saloon? There’s a fine singer coming on later tonight. He’s there every week.”
    â€œIt’s full of smoke in those places,” Cecil complained.
    â€œIt’s cold on the dock,” Anton countered.
    â€œAll right, all right,” Cecil said. “Eat your crabs and we’ll go out for a good time, like two brother sailors.”
    Anton rolled his shoulders back, did one last head-to-tail stretch. “Like two brother cats,” he said as he crept out over the rocks.

    By the time Anton and Cecil got to the dock, the cargo had been largely cleared away. They discovered it was being loaded onto the ship rather than off. “It must have been empty,” Anton observed. “It must be a new