Chapter 12

The chief difficulty that the animals had during the talk in the cow barn was to keep Charles from making a speech. Charles was a good orator, but oratory isn’t much use when you are planning a campaign. What you want then is ideas, and lots of common sense. Fortunately Henrietta was there, and whenever Charles jumped up and began to spout about “defending the honor of the Bean farm,” and “marching out with banners flying to meet the enemy,” she would give him a good sharp peck on the side of the head, and he would subside. So they were able to plan two things that had to be done before any direct attack on the Winches could be attempted.

The first thing was to find out if Mr. Winch had hidden the stolen things in his house, which was off the main road, about ten miles south of the Bean farm. “Of course the Winches won’t be there,” said Freddy, “but the house will probably be locked up tight, so whoever goes will have to get down the chimney. Now I’d like a couple of volunteers. Who’ll volunteer to look over the Winch house?”

Nobody answered. The four mice—Eek, Quik, Eeny and Cousin Augustus—who were sitting on a rafter, put their heads together and whispered.

Charles ruffled up his feathers and strutted forward. “I am amazed!” he said. “I am astounded! Are these the animals that fought and defeated the terrible Ignormus? Are these those mighty warriors who marched steadily up to the very muzzle of the gun trained on them from the Grimby house? Where is the old Bean fighting spirit? Well, here is one within whose proud bosom that spirit still blazes. I will volunteer. I will go to the Winch house. And if I cannot get down the chimney, I will break in the door! I will—”

“You will shut your silly beak,” said Henrietta, pecking him sharply. “You! You couldn’t break into a pasteboard box! What’s the sense of their volunteering if they can’t get through the chimney?”

“That’s right,” said Hank. “Looks like a job for Santa Claus to me.”

The mice had stopped whispering. They stepped forward as one mouse. “We’ll go, Freddy,” they said together.

“Good,” said Freddy. “I was sure you would. Jinx tells me that Breckenridge is expected this afternoon; he said he’d drop in. He’ll fly you down there and bring you back. Two of you, that is. I’d like the other two to go with Jinx and me up to Mr. Camphor’s.” For that was the second thing that had been decided upon.

So late that afternoon, although the eagle had not yet put in an appearance, Jinx and Freddy, with Eeny and Cousin Augustus riding on his back, set out. They went up through the woods and over the hill, and then down past the Schemerhorn farm in the valley. An old black dog walked stiffly out of the gate towards them as they went by.

“Why, that’s Mr. Schemerhorn’s Johnny,” said Freddy. “I haven’t seen him in a pig’s age. Hi, Johnny!”

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” said the dog, peering short-sightedly at them. “Oh, it’s you, Freddy. How’s everyone down at Bean’s?” He sat down and scratched his ear with a hind foot.

“Fine,” said Freddy. “There’s a flea on your ear, Johnny.”

“Oh, yes. There’s several families of them living with me this summer.”

“Why don’t you chase ’em off?” said Jinx.

“Oh, I don’t mind ’em,” said Johnny, scratching his other ear. “Fact is, I’m getting pretty old. Can’t hunt any more. So they kind of help to pass the time. Give me something to do.” He blinked at them. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a small bone with you?” he asked. “You know old Schemerhorn. He don’t hardly even feed himself. When he gets through with a bone it’s as bare as a china egg.”

“We haven’t,” said Freddy. “I’m sorry. If I’d known we’d see you … But about those fleas, Johnny—you mean you’re friendly with them?”

“Sure. Even taught ’em tricks.” He grinned. “Look here.” He gave a low growl. And immediately Freddy felt a sharp bite on his back and another on his foreleg, while Jinx whirled quickly and bit at the end of his tail.

For a minute Johnny grinned at them, as they jumped and scratched. The mice fell off Freddy’s back and scrambled up on the fence rail to be out of the way.

“Hey!” yelled Jinx. “That’s a swell way to treat callers. Call ’em off, will you?”

“Atten-tion!” said Johnny, and Freddy saw the fleas, like tiny black specks, hopping through the air. They lined up on a stone in front of Johnny, with one, who was a little larger than the others, out in front.

“Say, wait a minute,” said Freddy. “Would they do that for me?”

“Sure, sure,” said the dog. “That big one, he’s the head man. When you growl at anybody, he gives the word and they go for him. Of course, they don’t do any fancy drills or anything like that, but—well, look here.” He put his head down close to the stone. “Waltz, boys.” And the fleas paired off and whirled around in a dance. “O.K. Now hop.” And they all began bouncing about the stone like tiny grains of sand.

“Waltz, boys.” And the fleas paired off …

“H’m,” said the pig. “Very interesting.” He looked thoughtful for a minute, then glanced up at the sky, which had become overcast. “Going to rain,” he said. “We’d better be on our way. Come on, mice. So long, Johnny.”

By the time they got to the big iron gates of the Camphor estate, it had grown much darker, and had begun to sprinkle. Freddy sent the mice in to see if the Winches were around, and when they came back and reported nobody in sight he led them in, and they all sneaked down along the creek to the entrance to the secret passage. Freddy snapped on his flashlight and they went along the passage and up the stairs to the first landing.

Light was coming through the peephole above their heads on the right, and Eeny climbed the rough plank wall and looked through. Then he came down and reported that he had seen into a kitchen where an old woman was cooking supper.

“That’s Mrs. Winch,” Freddy whispered. “She’ll be giving Mr. Camphor his supper in the dining room as soon as it’s ready, and then Mr. Winch and Horace will come in from wherever they are for theirs. And when they’re all eating, we’ll see if we can get into Mr. Camphor’s bedroom.”

They had to wait nearly half an hour before heavy footsteps and a rumble of voices in the kitchen told them that the Winches had come in. The wall was so thick that they couldn’t hear anything that was said. Eeny climbed up again, and after a few minutes, came down to report that a tall man had just carried a tray with some covered dishes on it into another room.

“That’s Bannister,” said Freddy. “He’s taking it into the dining room to Mr. Camphor.”

“And that man with the black moustache and his boy are sitting at the kitchen table,” Eeny said. “Don’t they ever wash up before supper? That boy’s hands are so black I shouldn’t think he could see to eat.”

“I don’t suppose he’s washed in years,” said Freddy. “He’s still got that extra black smudge under his left eye that he had five years ago when we went to Florida. Well, let’s go.”

They went on up to the second landing, and Freddy turned the knob of the door which the toads had told him opened into Mr. Camphor’s bedroom. It was a heavy door, but it opened very smoothly and silently, and they crept into a large, pleasant room, paneled in dark wood, whose big windows looked out on the lake, over which rain was now sweeping in gusts. Mr. Camphor’s slippers were beside the bed, and his suitcase was on a chair, and on the dresser was an open leather case containing hairbrushes, razor, toothbrush and other toilet articles.

Freddy posted Cousin Augustus at the crack under the door into the hall, to warn them if anybody came upstairs. Then he said, “Now, this is the idea. We open all the dresser drawers and pull some of the things out on the floor, and we muss up the things in the suitcase, and generally make the room look as if a burglar had got in and had been hunting for valuables. Then we take one thing that Mr. Camphor is sure to miss, and while the Winches are at supper, we find the room Mr. Winch is staying in—I think it’s one of the small ones at the back—and we hide it among his things.” He paused doubtfully. “I don’t know,” he said. “It seemed all right when we talked it over, but maybe … Well, how do you fellows feel about it now? It’s an awfully mean trick to play on anybody. It isn’t very honest—planting stolen property on Mr. Winch.”

Jinx, who had gone over to the suitcase and started to toss things out of it, turned around. “Oh, pooh!” he said. “That’s what he did to you, isn’t it? You’re just giving him a taste of his own medicine. And I hope it chokes him!” he added vindictively.

“Well,” said Freddy, “there’s a proverb that says ‘Turnabout’s fair play.’ But I wish—”

“Hey, look,” said Eeny suddenly. He went up to the pig and stared at him angrily. “This guy is your enemy, isn’t he? Well then, you have to fight him with his own weapons. And if you want to know what I think—well, if you’re going to go all honorable and tender-hearted about him, I quit! I resign! I won’t help anybody who hasn’t the spirit to help himself. Why don’t you go down and kiss the guy?”

“That’s the talk, mouse,” said Jinx. “Come on, get busy, Freddy. Hey, what’ll we take? Do you think he’ll miss these cuff links?”

“He might not,” said the pig. “Razor? No, we want him to miss it tonight, and he probably won’t shave till morning.”

“How about the toothbrush?” said Eeny. “He’ll certainly miss that.”

“Yes, he’ll miss that all right. But nobody could imagine Mr. Winch stealing a toothbrush. It’s about the last thing he’d ever take. Why can’t we roll up the whole case and take it along? He’s sure to miss something in it. Then we’ll hide it in Winch’s room and bring something of his back here so it’ll look as if he’d dropped it when he was hunting around.” As he talked, he pulled out a dresser drawer and tumbled the contents about. “And then we’ll sneak back into the passage and listen to the fun.” He turned to glance at the door by which they had entered, and then suddenly fell back against the dresser. “Oh, golly!” he exclaimed. “We’re sunk!”

At the consternation in his voice, Jinx and Eeny turned quickly towards him, then, following the direction of his horrified stare, towards the door into the secret passage. And they saw at once what had happened. Without their thinking anything about it, the door had swung shut behind them with a faint click, as they entered. And now there was no door. Merely a panel in the wall, like every other panel all around the room. There was no knob or latch or anything.

“I ought to have remembered,” said Freddy. “We should have propped it open. Of course. A secret door wouldn’t have a knob on the inside. And now how do we get out of the house?”