The Borribles - Larrabeiti Michael. Страница 25

Both Borribles, their hearts throbbing, hastily fixed a catapult to the sole of a boot. With a minimum of luck, they might be able to get the weapons back into the cage.

"Where can we get some stones," said Knocker as he finished fixing his catapult, "and how would we smuggle them in if we had them?"

Adolf struck his forehead with the flat of his hand. "I saw some large marbles in that cupboard over there. I tell you, the kids in this house have everything in the toy line."

It was true enough. In a large cake tin was a fine collection of coloured marbles, all of them as big as a good-sized stone and all of them heavy.

"We can't take more than five," said Knocker counting them out. "We'll carry them in our mouths."

"Long as Dewdrop doesn't make us speak when we get back to Engadine," said the German.

"Well, let's go," said Knocker, "and hope for the best."

They left the house and ran across the starlit lawns to where Dewdrop sat on the cart, his shoulders hunched and his head swivelling at the slightest sound.

"Where've you been?" he snapped. "The others got here hours ago. You're trying to get me caught, ain't it? Well, you remember, my dearios, if I gets caught I'll make damn sure you lot does. Get in the cart with those sacks and cover yourselves up." And when that was done Dewdrop cracked the whip and old Sam leant into the traces, turned the cart round and took them home again.

At the back of the house in Engadine was a large yard where the rag-and-bone man kept his scrap metal and where he stabled his horse. It was approached from the road that ran behind and parallel to Engadine and it was always this entrance that Dewdrop used after one of his forays.

Once Sam had been shut in the stable for the night Dewdrop pushed the Borribles to the house, staggering as they were under the sacks of booty.

"Come along, my beauties, my little stealing wonders," he muttered impatiently. "I want to see how well you have been working for my early retirement. Ho yes, this is my redundancy pay, ain't it, me dearios? Hurry along, you brats, 'fore I brains yer."

The five Borribles said nothing. Each was holding a precious marble in his mouth and dared not speak.

Inside the house they dumped the sacks in the hallway and then filed down the narrow steps to the cellar. Erbie stood there, drooling and smiling and nodding as they went into the room and lined up as they always had to line up.

"Hurry up, Erbie, my ol' darlin'," said Dewdrop as he came into the room. "There's such a lot of stuff tonight we'll be up till morning just looking at it. Get those little dearios locked up safe and sound and give 'em a little bit more bread, just so they knows how much I appreciates 'em."

Erbie came along the line and under the watchful eye of his father he ran his hot and heavy hands over the frail forms of the Borribles. He felt everywhere, grinning and sniggering, making sure they had stolen nothing from the sacks to keep for themselves. The Borribles stood with their mouths firmly closed, the marbles feeling as big as footballs. When Erbie had finished his searching and prodding and fondling, Dewdrop went over to the cage and stood there with a truncheon in his hand. He opened the gate and quickly pushed the Borribles inside. The door clanged and Erbie threw some stale bread through the bars and then both he and his father sped from the room to spend avaricious hours with their swag.

As soon as Dewdrop and Erbie were upstairs the marbles were brought from their hiding places and aroused great interest; but when the catapults appeared, why then there was rejoicing and hope.

"Oh, my," chortled Vulge, as he fingered a catapult lovingly, "I know who's going to get a clout round the ear with this little beauty. Knock his bloody brains out, if he had some—ain't it?" he added in impersonation of his jailer.

"Man, oh man," cried Orococco, jumping up and down and smashing his right fist into his left hand, "this is it. I'll pulverise them, I'll feed 'em to the sparrows."

"How'd it happen?" asked Napoleon. "How'd you do it?"

"Knocker found them," said Chalotte, her eyes alight. "At the house we were turning over, and Adolf found the marbles; there's only five, but that'll be enough." She blushed and added, "Knocker told us all about it in the cart on the way home." Then she smiled at Knocker, apologising in a way for telling his story but showing that she was proud of him.

"That's it," said Knocker throwing his chest out a bit. "It was easy. Look, tomorrow it's you lot who go out. When you get back, me and Adolf will have our catapults ready. We're out of practice but we should be all right, and we've got five good heavy marbles. This is how we'll do it. When you're lined up and Erbie 's waiting for his old man to come and supervise the searching, that's when we strike. We'll shoot to kill," said Knocker, looking sombrely at Adolf who just grinned and flashed his blue eyes. "After what we've put up with nothing else will do." The Adventurers murmured their assent. "We must get Dewdrop, he's got the keys. You others will unlock the cage. Then we'll all get into the backyard, take the horse and cart, and anything else we want. Agreed?" Everyone nodded. For the first time in weeks they were happy and hopeful.

The next day was a long day and there was a longer evening to follow it as Knocker and Adolf waited for the return of Dewdrop. Two catapults and five marbles were all that they had to help them to reach freedom. Knocker walked up and down the cage, flexing his muscles, watched by his four companions.

"They won't be long now," said Chalotte trying to soothe him. "It will be all right, you'll see."

"Adolf," said Knocker at one point, "you have had more adventures than me. We have five stones only; you take three, I will take two. You aim at Dewdrop, I will take Erbie. We fire, without words, as soon as Dewdrop steps into the room."

Adolf said, "You do me a great honour, Knocker my friend, for you are a good shot with the catapult."

"I saw you fire at the policemen," said Knocker. "You did it well."

"Listen," said Bingo, in a whisper, "here they come."

Sure enough there were footsteps upstairs and Erbie came creeping sideways into the cellar like a white crab. He slithered over to the cage and had a prod or two with a pointed stick. The Borribles got as far away from the idiot as they could.

"Better get an aspirin, sonny," murmured Bingo, "because you're going to have an awful headache. You think you're dopey now, but wait till you've had a little bash round the bonce."

There was a slamming of doors above and some heavy thumps as the Borribles came in and dropped their sacks of loot onto the floor. Then they were pushed downstairs by Dewdrop, who could be heard grumbling because it had been a poor night's stealing.

The door to the cellar stood open and the Borribles stumbled in.

"Go'ron, you lazy little fools," shouted Dewdrop. "Nothing, nothing you brought me. How can I make a living like this? Monsters, ungrateful monsters, I'll be working until I'm a failing old man at this rate, never able to retire."

He rushed through the doorway and stopped to look round the cellar. His face was angry red, purple in the tight skin near his mouth. "None of you shall eat tonight, none of you," he snarled.

Adolf and Knocker had their backs to the door, crouching in the cage, catapults firmly gripped, spare marbles in the ready hand of a colleague. They glanced at each other and on the nod they turned unhurriedly, stretching the catapults as far as they would go, a murderous extent, and let fly, each at his target.

Knocker's marble hit Erbie on the left temple, hard. Erbie swayed, his smile petrified, stiff as blancmange, but he did not fall; unconscious, he was kept upright by some trick of gravity.

Adolf did not have the same luck. As he released the elastic Dewdrop moved forward, intending to thrash the Borribles, for he was in a foul temper, and the marble only clipped him on the back of the head, serving but to increase his anger and his vigilance.

He looked towards the cage and reached for the truncheon that always stood just inside the cellar door; the moisture at the end of his nose glowed blue, green and mauve.

"Throwing stones, ain't it?" he roared, then he saw the catapults and was scared.

"Erbie, we'll have to lock the doors on these guttersnipes until they comes to their senses."

But it was too late. Napoleon kicked the truncheon out of Dewdrop's reach. Adolf reloaded and he didn't miss a second time. The projectile crashed and splintered into the middle of the rag-and-bone man's forehead and he staggered back against the wall, sorely hurt, and his dewdrop, that globe of multi-colored mucus, finally broke off its infatuation with the nose and fell to the floor.

"Oh, Erbie," Dewdrop cried piteously. "Oh, Erbie, help me, my boy, my son, my joy."

But poor Erbie was in no state to help anyone. Chalotte had thrust a second marble into Knocker's hand as soon as he had fired the first. He reloaded and shot at Dewdrop's crazed son, still rocking on his heels. The heavy glass bullet struck Erbie a fatal blow above the heart and he fell backwards, demolished, like an old factory chimney.

Dewdrop could not believe what he saw. He raised a bewildered hand to his bleeding forehead, the blood trickled down into his eyes and confused him. Napoleon picked up the truncheon and stood ready, but he waited for Adolf to fire his last shot.

The German, veteran of many a battle, and survivor from a multitude of tight corners, took his time.

"Oh, my son, my poor little Erbie, what have they done to you, you little darling what wouldn't hurt a fly? Oh, what a cruel world, my boy. Erbie, speak up and chat to your father."

Adolf's third marble flew straight as an arrow, and as fatally, to the temple of the Borrible-Snatcher. He lurched and pressed both hands to his head, then, lifeless himself, he fell forward with a mighty crash across the lifeless body of his son.

"So perish all Borrible-Snatchers," said Knocker grandly, and the others looked at each other with a wild delight. They were free.

It was the work of only a few minutes to find the keys and open the door of the cage. They discovered their haversacks in the next cellar room, where they had come into the house of Dewdrop Bunyan and Son so many weeks before; their catapults and bandoliers were there too.