Chapter 13
After school on Monday, Jeffrey called at the farmhouse and asked Mr. Selkirk if it would be all right to pick up the kitten in a few days time. Mr. Selkirk agreed and the following day, after school, he and Arthur went to the old mill and climbed up the tree again and clambered in through the window. Arthur had been hard at work the day before and much of the rubbish had now been cleared away. Also, from somewhere, he'd scrounged a couple of candles. He now lit one and held it out in front as they both went close to the centre of the room being careful not to fall into the centre hole.
"What did you do with the rubbish?" Jeffrey asked.
"Tossed it down the hole," Arthur answered.
Jeffrey grunted as if in approval of a smart move.
They moved carefully across the room and upstairs to the room selected for the cat.
"We'll need a box of some sort for a bed," Jeffrey said, "and one for litter. We can use dirt for her to scratch in."
"Ginger says she can get a box and an old blanket for a bed," Arthur said.
"How about food for it? You know the way it is at my place. Not enough for me, let alone finding food for a cat."
"I can always get around Mrs. O'Brien for a few table scraps, and Ginger says there's stuff gets thrown away at the pub. She'll grab that."
Jeffrey lit the other candle and began to inspect the room. "There's holes in the walls. A lot of them. We'd better block them off. It'll prowl around. We don't want it to get stuck in one of them." He picked up a piece of wood scrap and placed it in front of a hole. It didn't do much good. "That's no good," he said. "I'll see if I can find something better."
He went back down the stairs followed by Arthur. "I'm going down these other stairs," he said. "I'm going to put my candle out. I don't want to burn myself." He grinned. "I don't want to drop it, either. Get a bad reputation for myself if I set a fire in the mill."
"Ha, ha," Arthur said. "Give it to me. I'll hold it over the edge. It'll give you a bit of light."
Jeffrey gave him the candle and started down the ladder. The wooden steps creaked and he worried, fearful in case one should break. The light from the candle wasn't much help once he reached the bottom. Luckily faint light came through two small, dirty windows and a few cracks in the wall. His eyes soon adjusted to the dimness and he moved around carefully. More rubbish and junk lay scattered around. He looked up and behind the candle saw Arthur's head silhouetted against the light from their entrance window.
"Found anything?" Arthur called in a soft shout.
"Not yet. A lot of junk on the floor. I'm going over to the wall and circle around."
He stepped cautiously through the debris, picking his way over to the wall. He felt his way, using his feet as much as his eyes. Whenever his foot struck a solid object, which was often, he bent over to gingerly touch the obstruction. Mostly he found things like a large cog wheel or huge squared timbers, and once an obstacle turned out to be a coil of rope. He began to despair of finding anything that would secure the small room chosen for the cat. Soon he approached a part of the room that was darker with little of the faint light that came through the dirty windows and cracked walls reaching the area. Not being able to see what might be lying there, he edged out from the wall.
It was then that all the stories he'd ever read or heard about nasty creatures hiding in dark places in abandoned buildings crowded his mind. He tried to push the ugly visions away, but they wouldn't go. Biting his lip he moved forward two small steps. It was no use, his feet refused to move further. He began to retreat, shuffling backwards. His left foot caught against an object and he fell sideways toward the middle of the room. His elbow struck something hard as he went down. He cried out.
"What's wrong?" Arthur called.
"Nothing much. I fell. But I think I've found what we need. Bricks."
"Bricks?"
"Yes. They likely came from the fallen wall at the manor. We can use them to wedge pieces of wood against the holes. Come down. But be careful of that candle."
Arthur said not to worry about the candle, there wouldn't be a fire today and he trod carefully downstairs holding the flickering candle at a tilt away from his body. He needn't have worried about fire. A draft blew the candle out when he was halfway down. But by then his eyes had grown used to the dim light and he could see vague shapes on the floor.
"Over here," Jeffrey called.
Arthur made his way to Jeffrey's side and relit the candle. All the bricks had mortar on the sides. Jeffrey explained what he thought would work.
"That might do it," Arthur said. "Now all we have to do is find some way of getting them up the ladder."
"There's rope over by the wall. It's a bit old, but I think it's OK. There's a few small planks, too. We can make a bundle of bricks and haul them up."
And that's what they did. They searched until they found four smallish planks of roughly the same size. They uncoiled the rope and Arthur carried one end up the stairs along with a couple of bricks that he placed on the rope's end to stop it from falling down again. Then he rejoined Jeffrey who'd laid a plank on the other end of the rope. After which they neatly piled bricks onto the plank, put a plank on each side and one on top and, using knots Jeffrey had learned at scouts, tied the rope around it. Then they climbed stairs and pulled on the rope. The bundle was too heavy even with both of them pulling. They made a smaller bundle but it fell apart as did a second bundle. At last, with perseverance, they succeeded in getting a bundle to hold together. It was hard work, though. By the time they'd pulled up three loads they were tired, and decided to quit for the day.
Bomber Overhead Page 16
