by Alan Snow
There was a flash from above the cage, and the Trouts’ cries grew higher and higher pitched, until there was only an indecipherable squeak. Then there was another larger flash from the large funnel, and Framley gave a great wobble.
“That should do it!” Snatcher said, satisfied. “Can we try the armor for size again?”
This time the members had to push and prod to get the armor back on the rat; then Snatcher inspected it again. “Marvelous!” he chuckled. “I knew he’d grow into it.”
The Great One now looked fearsome. The members took the ladder and put it up to the platform on the back of the rat. Snatcher scrambled up, and a couple of members climbed onto the platforms on either side.
Snatcher scrambled up.
“Right, me lads. Gather round.”
The members assembled, peering up at Snatcher and casting wary glances at the massive rat.
“Members of the new Cheese Guild, the time is here!”
There was a loud cheer.
“The Great One is ready, and Ratbridge is going to pay!”
There was an even louder cheer.
“Yes, my brothers! We shall use our leviathan to overthrow those that have held us down for so long. First we shall remove their government, then destroy their banks, smash their factories, and return Ratbridge to follow an open free trade in cheesy products!”
There was a silence, and then Gristle raised a hand. “Eh . . . what do you mean?”
“We’re going to use the big rat to clobber them what done us down, blow up the council offices, rob the bank, knock down the factories, and then start flogging dodgy cheese again!” Snatcher replied.
There was an enormous cheer.
“Right! Let’s hit the town!” shouted Snatcher, and he took hold of a pair of reins and pulled hard. Slowly his war machine rose and turned toward the broken wall. The members followed, carrying their blunderbusses.
“I’ve been looking forward to this.” Snatcher smiled to himself.
The members followed, carrying their blunderbusses.
“Right, what’s the plan?” asked the captain.
chapter 49
ATTACK ON THE CHEESE HALL
Herbert led the way.
Herbert led the way through the streets of Ratbridge. The sun was rising and was just breaking through under the dark storm clouds, and their footsteps were mixed with the rumble of thunder and rainfall. As Willbury surveyed the little army, he wondered about their selection of weapons. Some of the pirates carried large underpants and were accompanied by rats carrying the notorious gunge balls. This he understood, but the others . . .
The boxtrolls had selected screwdrivers and adjustable wrenches, Titus had found a small trowel and a bucket full of gravel, and the other pirates and rats had grabbed anything that was handy—mops, buckets, old fishing rods, in fact, anything that took their fancy. Willbury carried an umbrella that was keeping him dry and that he thought might be useful in a fight, while Arthur walked by his side carrying the doll.
The thunder drew closer as they stood in front of the Cheese Hall.
“Right, what’s the plan?” asked the captain.
Kipper said eagerly, “Perhaps Herbert could ‘open’ the front door for us, and we could creep in that way and surprise them!”
“I don’t think there will be much surprise after the noise of Herbert walloping down the door,” said Arthur.
“If we wait for a flash of lightning and count a few seconds, then Herbert wallops the door, the thunder will mask the sound of the wallop,” suggested Tom.
“That’s a very intelligent idea!” Willbury sounded impressed.
They waited for a minute or so until the next flash of lightning came. Willbury held up a finger, counted for a few seconds, then gave the signal to Herbert. At the very moment the walloper struck the door, a loud clap of thunder filled the street. The front door was reduced to matchsticks. Everyone froze, waiting to see if the members were going to come rushing out. But there was still no sign of the members.
“I think we got away with it!” said Kipper.
“Right! Get the mobile knickers ready,” ordered the captain.
Pairs of pirates stretched knickers between them, rats loaded them with the gunge balls, and each pair of pirates was joined by a third who stretched the knickers back, ready for firing.
“Everybody keep quiet and follow the knickers,” ordered the captain.
Slowly, the pirates with the loaded knickers made their way up the passageway toward the entrance hall, the others following. As they reached the archway to the hall, one of the leading pirates peeked around the corner and signaled that the coast was clear. The little army made its way into the entrance hall.
Slowly, the pirates with the loaded knickers made their way up the passageway toward the entrance hall.
“Prepare yourselves,” whispered the captain. “Now, Herbert, you wallop the lab door, and we’ll let off a volley of knickers—” But before he could finish, the lab door started to creak open and everybody froze.
Around the bottom of the door a tiny person appeared. It was Marjorie.
Around the bottom of the door a tiny person appeared.
“I wondered when you were going to get here,” she squeaked. “But you’re too late. They’ve gone!”
There was a mixture of surprise, relief, and worry.
“Thank goodness you are all right,” said Willbury, kneeling down and scooping Marjorie up.
“I am not hurt, but ‘all right’ is not exactly how I feel,” Marjorie squeaked, her lower lip quivering. “Six inches tall . . .”
“Well, I’m not sure we can do anything about that right now,” said Willbury sympathetically. “We’ve got to stop Snatcher first.”
“They’ve taken the rat to wreak their revenge on the town. First they’re going to destroy the Town Hall, then rob the bank, and after that they are going to destroy all the factories!” Marjorie said, her voice reaching an even higher pitch.
They all looked to one another in shock.
“C’mon, let’s go!” the captain shouted.
“But how will we stop them?” Arthur had to ask.
“Knickers and a good walloping!” suggested Herbert.
The Laundry crew gave a cheer.
“I don’t think even that could stop them now,” Marjorie told them. “They’ve equipped the rat with some really heavy iron armor and cannons. And from what I can see, that rat is vicious and afraid of nothing now that he’s enormous. It’s going to take something really powerful to stop them now.”
Everybody fell silent; then after a few moments Arthur had an idea. “Did you say ‘iron armor’?”
“Yes,” replied Marjorie.
“The same stuff Herbert’s boots were made of?”
“Yes. Why?” Marjorie asked.
“I am not sure if it would work, but I have an idea,” Arthur quickly explained. “There is a powerful electromagnet somewhere above the roof of Herbert’s cell. When they wanted to stop him from attacking them, the members would turn it on, and Herbert’s boots would stick him to the ceiling. Couldn’t we use that?”
Marjorie’s eyes lit up. “If it was powerful enough, it might work.”
Willbury looked perplexed and turned to Arthur. “I don’t understand.”
“We could use the electromagnet!”
“Don’t you see? We could use the electromagnet!” said Arthur. “If Framley is wearing iron armor, we could turn on the magnet and pull him back here.”
“Yes . . . but is the magnet powerful enough?” asked Willbury.
Marjorie grinned. “It will be by the time I’m finished with it!”
Everybody cheered.
“Herbert, can you pick me up and show me approximately where your cell was?” Marjorie asked him. “If we can find the spot just above it, we should be able to find the magnet.”
Herbert carefully picked up Marjorie and looked toward the stairs to the dungeon. Then he made toward a space
behind the beam engine.
As Herbert rounded a corner, Marjorie let out a squeak.
“Here it is!”
On a cart sat a very large coil of wire.
On a cart sat a very large coil wire.
Willbury frowned. “Are you sure? It’s just a large coil of wire.”
“YUP! That’s what it is until you put electricity through it,” Marjorie squeaked with glee. “Now all we have to do is put enough electricity through it to give that rat a surprise!”
“What do you want us to do?” asked the captain.
“When we turn it on, we have to make sure the rat comes to the magnet, rather than the magnet going to the rat. If we make sure there is something really solid between the coil and the rat, that should stop the magnet from moving.”
“How about a wall of the lab? The one closest to the Town Hall,” suggested Arthur.
“Good idea,” Marjorie said, nodding.
“What about all the machinery in here?” asked Willbury. “Won’t the coil be attracted to that?”
“Mmmmmm. You have got a point. We’ll have to fix the magnet to the wall. Some of the loose parts of machinery might fly toward it, but the heavy stuff should be bolted down firmly, I think.”
Fish made a gurgling sound, and Titus came forward to whisper to Willbury.
“Titus says the boxtrolls are very good at that sort of thing and would like to help,” Willbury said to Marjorie.
“Very good!” Marjorie squeaked, turning to the boxtrolls. “You lot move the coil and fix it to the wall.”
The boxtrolls nodded happily, and Shoe made a burbling noise. Titus whispered to Willbury, and Willbury passed on the question to Marjorie.
“I don’t really understand, but they would like to know if you would like them to rewire the cabling so you can have the switch up here, rather than down in the dungeon.”
“Bless me! That would be grand,” squeaked Marjorie. “Could we have the switch in the control shed, please? And wire the coil directly to the generators?”
Shoe nodded and the boxtrolls set to work. Marjorie then told the captain, “We need as much power as possible if we are going to stop that rat,” she told him. “The beam engine that powers the generators will have to be running flat out. Is your crew any good stoking up boilers?”
“Be our pleasure!” said the captain. “We know all about stoking boilers. It’s one of our specialties.”
So the crew of the Nautical Laundry set to stoking the boiler of the beam engine. It didn’t take long before the great arm of the beam engine was pumping up and down and the flywheel was spinning again.
Marjorie asked Willbury to bring her up to the shed. Arthur and Titus joined them. Willbury looked about the small room. On the bench at the back were Arthur’s wings and the strange device with two small funnels.
The strange device with two small funnels.
Willbury pointed to the design. “Is that yours?”
Marjorie sighed. “Yes . . . . Yes it is.” Arthur was busy checking his wings.
“At least they haven’t had time to take them apart again,” he said in relief.
Willbury put Marjorie down on the control panel. She took a few moments to study the controls, then pointed to one of the dials.
“That shows the pressure in the steam boiler.” Then she pointed to a lever. “And that lever engages the generators. Arthur, could you swing it to the upright position, please?”
Arthur obliged. As soon as he did, a gentle whirring started and built to a loud hum that filled the whole lab. A needle in another large dial in the control panel started to climb.
Arthur thought for a moment, then asked Marjorie, “How did they make the magnet work when the beam engine wasn’t running?”
“Arthur, you really are as sharp as a knife.” Marjorie smiled. “You saw all those glass tanks?”
“Yes,” replied Arthur.
“Those are batteries. They store power, but not nearly enough for what we want. That’s why I asked the boxtrolls to wire the coil directly to the generators,” answered Marjorie. “Now all we have to do is wait until the needle hits the red.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?” asked Willbury.
“Err . . . no,” confessed Marjorie. “But it should be all right for a bit.”
The stokers were doing their work well. The beam engine kept increasing in speed and the generators hummed louder, and soon the needle reached the red.
“Arthur, can you tell the boxtrolls to stand clear of the magnetic coil, please?” asked Marjorie.
Arthur leaned out of the door and shouted, “We’re turning the magnet on. Stand clear!”
The boxtrolls dropped their tools and ran to the other end of the lab as fast as their legs could carry them. Arthur poked his head back in the shed and told Marjorie, “They’re clear!”
“Well then,” Marjorie said, grinning at Arthur, “would you like to throw the switch?”
Arthur looked a little hesitant.
“Don’t worry. What can happen?” She smiled.
Arthur paused, then grinned back and threw the switch.
Every piece of loose metal in the lab flew toward the magnet. Tools, nuts and bolts, pieces of machinery, a door handle, bits of chain, and several enameled mugs and plates whizzed past ducking heads as they made the most direct way to the magnet, where they formed a jumble on the surface of the coil.
“Strong, isn’t it?” Marjorie said, pride in her voice.
“Strong, isn’t it?”
At the head of the procession rode Snatcher high on the back of Framley.
chapter 50
MAGNETISM!
Shutters were thrown open by the townsfolk wondering what all the commotion was about.
Ratbridge was a strange town and had seen some very strange and fearful sights during its history, but none as strange and fearful as that making its way through its streets now.
At the head of the procession rode Snatcher high on the back of Framley. Following were the other members, carrying an assortment of blunderbusses and other weapons, and behind them ran the cheese-hounds. Sparks flew out from below Framley’s belly as his armor grated on the cobbles of the streets. The noise drew people from their beds, and as the procession approached, shutters were thrown open by the townsfolk wondering what all the commotion was. Very quickly the shutters were closed and bolted again.
Very quickly the shutters were closed and bolted again.
Encouraged by the obvious fear they were generating, Snatcher chuckled to himself. He hadn’t felt this good in years . . . or ever! Life felt wonderful.
“Just wait till I get to the Town Hall!” he sniggered. Looking ahead his eyes fixed on a row of shops. About half way down the row was a shuttered shop frontage with the three balls of the pawnbrokers’ sign hanging above it.
“I wonder? . . .” he muttered.
As Framley drew level with the shop, Snatcher pulled hard on the reins. The Great One stopped. Snatcher swiveled around to the members, who had come to a sudden halt behind him. “I am sorry, lads, but I can’t resist it!” He then pulled on Framley’s reins and aimed the rat at the front of the shop. “Go on, my beauty! Let’s see what you can do.”
The shop did not put up much of a fight.
For a moment the rat didn’t move; then, apparently realizing just how big he was and just how small the shop looked, he raised his head and swung it at the front of the shop.
The shop did not put up much of a fight. Within a fraction of a second the shutters and windows gave way and the contents of the windows spilled out. The members let out a mighty cheer and ran forward to gather up the treasures.
“This is going to be so easy!” shouted Snatcher. “Help yourselves, boys; there is going to be plenty more where that came from.”
He pulled on the reins and set the mighty rat off again toward the market square. As they barreled through the streets, he set Framley upon several more unfortunate shops that took his fancy, and each
in turn was reduced to a wreck in seconds.
Finally they crossed the market square and arrived outside the Town Hall. Snatcher brought the procession to a halt and turned to the members.
“This is where the real fun begins, lads! Prepare to charge!” Snatcher shouted.
Gristle shouted back, “Can’t we use the cannons? I like a bang. Please, please let’s use the cannons.”
Snatcher looked down at Gristle benevolently. “Oh, all right, Gristle. As you have been so good, we’ll use the cannons.” Then Snatcher gave the order. “Prepare to fire!”
The members who were standing on the platforms on the sides of the rat took out boxes of matches, and the other members leveled their weapons at the front of the Town Hall.
There was a roar of cannon and blunderbusses.
“Ready . . . fire!” Snatcher cried as he brought down his arm.
There was a roar of cannons and blunderbusses . . . but then something very strange happened, something that seemed to defy the laws of nature. The cannonballs and the nuts and bolts that the members had fired hurtled toward the Town Hall, but then slowed . . . stopped . . . then turned back toward the members.
A member with a box of matches.
“Duck!!!” screamed Snatcher. The members hit the ground as the missiles whizzed over their heads and continued back across the market square in the direction of the Cheese Hall. Everybody looked baffled.
“Prepare to fire!” Snatcher screamed again.
The members tried to follow orders, but now their guns and ammunition seemed to want to go home and were pulling the members back toward the Cheese Hall.
The members hit the ground as the missiles whizzed over their heads.
“Master!” cried Gristle with fright in his voice. “Something weird is ’appenin’ . . .”
“Stand firm!” ordered Snatcher, but the terrified members were now letting go of their blunderbusses and untying their ammunition bags from their belts to avoid being dragged across the square.
