J. P. MARTIN

UNCLE AND THE BATTLE FOR

BADGERTOWN

Illustrated by Quentin Blake

Jonathan Cape Thirty Bedford Square London

For J. P. Martin's second great-granddaughter KATE

CONTENTS

1 The Blowpipe Laundry

2 A Home Day

3 The Jewel Room

4 The Imprisonment

5 A Traction Trip

6 Animal's Novelty Shop

7 Whitebeard's Woe

8 The Closed Gallery

9 Hateman's Show Trip

10 Witch Pit

11 Second Visit to the Closed Gallery

12 The Pleasure Palace

13 Uncle's Christmas Shopping

14 Dr Lyre's Christmas Party

15 Blizzards and Benefits

16 The Big Tree

17 The Battle for Badgertown

18 A Place for the Mace

Some of the Characters

Uncle's Followers

Wizard Blenkinsop

Mrs Witch

The Old Monkey

Lily

The One-Armed Badger

Heffo

Goodman

Mrs Moonray

Lucy

Lucy Moonray

Brass

Mr Oldeboy

Will Shudder

Mr Animal

Sleepy Sam

Brashbag

Cowgill

Septimus Brigg

Eva

Bab

Cloutman

Alonzo S. Whitebeard

Gubbins

Iama Goldsack

Mig

The King of the Badgers

Gleamhound

A. B. Fox

Dr Lyre

Claudius the Camel

Miss Maidy

Miss Wace

Noddy Ninety

Finn

Finn

The Respectable Horses

The Badfort Crowd

Beaver Hateman

Nailrod Hateman (Sen.)

Nailrod Hateman (Jun.)

Filljug Hateman

Sigismund Hateman

Flabskin

Hootman

Hitmouse

Adolphus Hitmouse

Jellytussle

The Wooden-Legged Donkey

ONE

The Blowpipe Laundry

Everybody was deeply shocked by Beaver Hateman's attempt to burn down Uncle's castle. Nothing came of the attempt, but the inhabitants of Badfort felt it safer to stay inside the shabby walls of their own fortress. Beaver Hateman, Hitmouse, Jellytussle, Flabskin and the Wooden-Legged Donkey were nowhere to be seen.

This meant that Uncle and his faithful followers could sit on the terrace in front of the glittering sky-scrapers and mysterious towers of Homeward and eat bananas and drink Koolvat without fear of attack.

They made a handsome group one fine morning. There was Uncle in his purple dressing-gown and gold-and-white elephant's boots and the Old Monkey in a bottle-green suit. Goodman the cat always looks well-dressed in his white coat, and so does Lucy the parrot with her grey and rose-coloured feathers.

"I've often thought," said Uncle to the Old Monkey, "of sitting with my back to the view, so as not to see Badfort. It's awful! You can't call it a house, or even a shed. It's nothing but a collection of broken windows, crooked chimneys and sagging doors!"

"Badfort is a disgrace," said the Old Monkey, sympathetically, "and spoils the rest of the view--the moat, Badgertown up on the hill there, everything. Let's try facing Homeward, sir."

So they all turned their chairs and looked at the skyscrapers of many colours connected so delightfully by switchback railways. Homeward is so big that a lot of it is unexplored yet. Uncle knows that many strange people inhabit the far corners of his great castle. Every now and then he goes on expeditions to find out more about them.

"Most majestic, what a glorious sight!" said Uncle, and yawned. "Just fly over to Badfort, Lucy, and see if you can find any signs of activity. We mustn't leave Homeward unless we feel sure our enemies are not planning a vile attack of any kind, but I feel in need of a change."

"Oh, so do I, sir," said the Old Monkey.

"O.K., boss," said Lucy, and flew off.

Of course, they had to turn their chairs back to watch Lucy's progress through field-glasses.

Goodman, who had been polishing his white coat with his pink tongue, said, "I don't like birds much, not as friends, I mean, but I like Lucy, though her voice is rather loud. But she can't stick stamps straight on letters. Now I never get a stamp crooked, do I, sir?"

"I grant you that," said Uncle.

"The thing is," said Goodman, who is a tremendous talker if he gets the chance, "that I lick the stamps properly, all over, every bit--"

"Enough, Goodman," said Uncle. "Self-praise must be avoided, you know."

"Lucy's coming back already!" said the Old Monkey.

Sure enough, in a moment or two, Lucy was perched on the top of a stem of bananas looking very pleased with herself.

"No trouble today, boss!" she squawked. "The scobs have come up the stream to Badfort!"

"Good," said Uncle; "that always keeps the Badfort Crowd fully occupied."

Scobs are small savagely biting fish which infest the sticky mud of Gaby's Marsh just beyond Badfort. Every now and again the scobs move in a solid block from the marsh to the sea, and then lots of bears and badgers from Badgertown come and try to catch them. Nobody eats scobs except the inhabitants of Badfort, but the oil from the fish is useful for burning, and for oiling locks, pram wheels and so on. Hateman always behaves as if all the scobs belong to him.

"Hateman's just pushed one bear into the river and Hitmouse is aiming skewers at anybody who dares to put a paw into the water!"

"Disgraceful," said Uncle. "However, they won't leave the stream till every scob has gone. That means the way is clear for us to go on a short exploring expedition."

"Cowgill has taken the traction engine in for overhaul," the Old Monkey reminded Uncle.

"We'll walk," said Uncle; "we need to stretch our legs. No need to bother Cowgill."

Cowgill is Uncle's engineer. He has an engineering shop on the ground floor of one of the towers nearest to Uncle's part of Homeward. Uncle prefers a traction engine to a car and Cowgill keeps it in first-class condition. It is painted red and has a brass flywheel and a small brass elephant as a mascot. There is a steam trumpet which sounds exactly like an elephant.

"Where are we going, sir?" asked the Old Monkey, who loves exploring.

"You may remember that when we were trying to fix up Claudius and his friends with a good patch of camel thorn, we were somewhat mystified by a little girl who said she had come down from the top of a tower by blowpipe."

"Yes, she came to fetch a shirt that had blown down from her mother's washing," said Goodman. "You said we would return and investigate."

"Well, today's the day," said Uncle. "Who's going?"

Uncle felt a gentle pressure on his foot. There was the One-Armed Badger, loaded with a neat pack, as usual. He is apt, if not stopped in time, to load himself to the ground with food, clean socks, ice-axes, ropes, compasses and babble-trout oil--useful for protecting glass against stone-throwers.

"Just a light picnic lunch, sir," said the One-Armed Badger.

"For once, One-Armed," said Uncle, smiling, "I will not reduce your load. This time, in addition, we will each take a small pack of choice eatables. That little girl and her mother may be glad of a few treats. Washing is hard work. Let's go to my pantry and load up."

It was very pleasant walking along the edge of the moat. Cloutman and Gubbins, Uncle's strong young helpers, were, as usual, mowing Uncle's vast lawn, and they waved at the party. They passed the mysterious tower with green lights in every window and pink smoke coming out of a central chimney. They haven't had time to explore this tower yet.

"Nearly there, sir," said Lucy, who had been flying ahead. "No windows or doors in laundry tower."

"There must be at least one door," said Uncle. "We saw the little girl open it."

Goodman ran ahead, and soon came scampering back, his tail sticking straight up, as it does when he is investigating. Since his great work at Crack House as assistant to A. B. Fox, Uncle's private investigator, he fancies himself as a detective.

"Door located," he said, "but it's rather small for you, sir."

"Now don't start putting difficulties in the way, Goodman," said Uncle. "Let's see what can be done."

The tower, with a positive forest of clothes blowing about on top of it, was now in view. Goodman was right; the door certainly was rather small for an elephant.

There was a notice on it.

If you wish to go up to Laundry open door.

If you are a party, don't close door till you are all in.

The blower only works when door is shut and latched.

If you have done everything properly

you will get blown to the top of the tower in a moment.

"Now, we must be careful about this," said Uncle. "Just put the bags in the corners and we will squeeze in somehow. Lucy, I suppose you wish to fly up?"

"No, boss," said Lucy; "if you don't mind I want to see how the blowpipe works."

"Well, you'd better perch on my shoulder for once, but only for once," said Uncle sternly. "I do not like birds perching on me. Their claws tickle."

"Oh, thank you, boss," said Lucy gratefully.

"All right," said Uncle. "Now, arc we all in?"

"Yes, sir," came the cheerful reply, though it was rather a squash in the dark roofless space just beyond the door. Somehow, by breathing in, Uncle got the door shut and latched.

Nothing happened for a moment or two, and then they began to feel a little breeze coming through small holes in the floor. It grew stronger and stronger, and Goodman, being light, was blown up past Uncle and disappeared. Lucy had to dig her claws into Uncle's dressing-gown not to get blown off too. The One-Armed Badger and the Old Monkey hung on to Uncle's legs.

There was now a mighty wind blowing from the holes. It roared, and then changed into a scream. All at once even Uncle was lifted, and they were travelling swiftly up a dark shaft. It was alarming, but didn't last long. They felt a grating slide out beneath them, and they were in daylight in another little roofless compartment.

The door in front of them was green and on it was a notice.

Don't latch this door unless you want to go down again.

"Well, a somewhat disconcerting experience," said Uncle, stepping out into the sunshine. They were all a bit ruffled, except Lucy, whose feathers remained quite smooth and smart. They tidied themselves up, and then looked about. Between the lines of washing they could see a thin, worried-looking woman with a damp shirt in her hand and a peg in her mouth. The little girl they had seen before stood by her, staring at Uncle's party. A large thin dog with a shaggy yellow coat started to bark. He had such a fearfully loud bark that it made the eardrums tingle.

"Quiet, Brass!" said the woman, taking the peg out of her mouth.

"Well, I'm only trying to protect you from strangers," said the dog.

"Your dog has a good speaking-voice, madam," called Uncle. "I greatly prefer it to his bark, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind at all," said the woman. "I think that too. I'm Mrs Moonray, the owner of the Blowpipe Laundry, and this is my daughter Lucy."

"Lucy!" screamed the parrot, and flew over to the little girl and perched on her shoulder. "I'm called Lucy too!"

Lucy, the little girl, and Lucy, the parrot, settled down to have a good talk, and Uncle turned to Mrs Moonray.

"Well, Mrs Moonray," he said, "I am Uncle, the owner of the Castle of Homeward, and these are my friends. We've been interested in your laundry for a long time and wanted to visit it. What sort of washing do you do?"

"Oh, any kind, but clothes for animals are hard to come by. They mostly wear their own coats. So I'm left with dwarfs' washing. It's awful, you can tear a dwarf's shirt in a moment if you're not careful, and as for dwarfs' children's socks, they're apt to slip through your fingers. I'd like to wash something big for a change."

"You haven't got a washing-machine, I see," said Uncle. "Perhaps you've heard of Poor Syd at the Dwarfs' Drinking Fountains--he has installed one."

Mrs Moonray sniffed.

"Shakes the clothes to bits," she said. "I take a pride in doing all my washing by hand. Though I do use the blowpipe for drying on wet days. And as for hot water, I'm well off. You see that big tap in the wall there? The notice beside it says, 'Turn tap this way'."

"What happens if you turn it the other way?" asked Uncle.

"Oh sir, you have got brains!" cried Mrs Moonray admiringly. "D'you know, I tried for days and days when I first came here to twist that tap the way it said, and it wouldn't budge. At last I got cross and gave it a strong twist the wrong way, and out came a great gush of hot water!"

"Splendid!" said Uncle. "What about soap?"

"You see that cupboard on the wall with a notice on it?"

"It says, 'Don't pull the rope if you want soap'," said Uncle. "So I guess you pull the rope."

"There you go again!" cried Mrs Moonray. "Right first time! You work it, sir, and see!"

Uncle gave the rope hanging by the closed cupboard a gentle pull. Nothing happened. He gave it a stronger pull. Nothing. He gave it such a fierce pull that the Old Monkey gasped, fearing that the rope would come right out of the wall. Still nothing.

"Oh dear, I can't understand it!" said Mrs Moonray, looking worried. "It works for me every time!"

"Then you do it, madam," said Uncle, breathing heavily.

Mrs Moonray gave the rope a gentle pull, the door of the cupboard slapped open, and out tumbled a large piece of soap weighing at least a pound.

"It is quite clear to me, Mrs Moonray," said Uncle thoughtfully, "that this soap-machine works only for you. I can't explain it, but you must look on it as a piece of good fortune for yourself and be thankful."

"Oh I am, sir!" cried Mrs Moonray. "But I am sorry it didn't work for you!"

"It doesn't matter," said Uncle cheerfully; "I don't need soap. I expect it only works for somebody who needs it. You have all the materials for a very good laundry here. All you need is custom. We'll talk about that over lunch!"

"Lunch!" said Mrs Moonray. "I'm afraid I can't set out more than a snack!"

"Don't trouble yourself, madam," said Uncle. "We have brought enough for you and your daughter, and even for the dog Brass."

At that Brass started up such a din of joyous barking that everybody winced.

"He really has a most objectionable bark," said Uncle, "but in spite of that I rather like him."

"Oh, he's a good dog," said Mrs Moonray, "and a fine guard against enemies--if you have any."

"I have many," said Uncle sadly.

"I don't like you providing all the eatables," said Mrs Moonray, "but at least let me provide you with a dining-table and good chairs."

She led the way into a small house built into one corner of the tower. Mrs Moonray's dining-room was crammed with furniture. A large table was surrounded by chairs made of upturned wash tubs, which made good seats. One was so big that even Uncle was comfortable on it.

While the Old Monkey, the One-Armed Badger and Goodman set out the contents of their bags and baskets, Uncle had a look round the walls at the many framed diplomas given for success in washing. In one frame, surrounded by the usual words of praise, was a gold medal.

"That is my best prize," said Mrs Moonray; "it's made of gold and I've often been tempted to sell it when I've been really hard up, but I've managed to hang on to it so far."

"I admire your pluck," said Uncle, and quietly put a pound note into her hand. "Why not take your little girl for an afternoon at Cheapman's?"

"Oh, sir, I will!" said Mrs Moonray. "The washing will soon dry in the sun and we'll be off. What we can buy for a pound at Cheapman's! I'm quite dizzy at the thought!"

"I've been thinking," said Uncle, "that we really have a lot of washing at Homeward, too much for the Old Monkey, who's apt to get tangled up in it sometimes. I propose sending washing to you every week from now on, but I warn you that elephant's blankets are pretty big. Too big for a washing-machine!"

"Oh, they'll be a treat after dwarfs' washing!" cried Mrs Moonray. "I'm quite overpowered, sir."

"You do the washing well," said Uncle, "and that's all I ask!"

They had a delightful lunch together, and the dog Brass ate up every crumb that was left.

"He seems somewhat short of food, Mrs Moonray," said Uncle.

"Oh, that's the trouble, sir. I've had him since a pup, but I never thought he'd grow so big. I really can't afford to feed him. I suppose you couldn't manage to give him a good home, sir?"

The dog Brass came to stand by Uncle. His yellow coat was rather rough. He was rough in general shape too, but he had beautiful eyes.

"Please, sir, do take me," he said. "I like Mrs Moonray and Lucy, but it's true I do need a lot to eat. Couldn't you, sir?"

"Oh, do take Brass, sir," said Goodman, who had taken a violent fancy to the dog. "People talk about a cat-and-dog life, but it all depends which cat and which dog. Brass and I can get on, and he can keep watch while I'm reading a detective story. You know how lost I get in them towards the end."

"Yes, I do know," said Uncle, and then turned to Brass. "Well, Brass, what d'you say? Are you a good watchdog?"

"You've heard me bark, sir," said Brass, "but you haven't heard me bark really loudly. Shall I just show you?"

"No, no, thanks," said Uncle, hastily.

"And I can smell people a long way off," said Brass.

"You might indeed be useful against Hateman and his gang," said Uncle. "Well, Brass, you're hired. You'll get plenty to eat, but not much in the way of wages at first till I see how you shape. Would fivepence a week suit you?"

"Suit me!" Brass couldn't resist giving one or two joyful and ear-splitting barks. "I shall live like a prince!"

"That bark would waken anybody up, sir," whispered the Old Monkey.

"True, and he's not so bad-looking, either, in a rough way," said Uncle quietly to his faithful friend, "and I feel he would be loyal. That is always a treat in the world of treachery that surrounds us."

The Old Monkey agreed, and so it was settled. Brass had no luggage but he made one request.

"I'd like to see Mrs Moonray and Lucy every now and again," he said.

"Certainly," said Uncle. "They can ride to Homeward with Cloutman and Gubbins in the truck when they bring the washing. Will that suit you?"

Mrs Moonray and Lucy beamed, and Brass did two quick runs round the top of the tower because he just had to do something to let off steam.

When they got back to Homeward, Brass decided at once where he would sleep, and that was under Sleepy Sam's barrow on the terrace. Sam manages to keep a pretty continuous watch against Hateman, but of course he is inclined to drop off now and then, and having a reliable dog on duty with him would add greatly to the security of Homeward.

"Good," said Uncle; "this has been a very satisfactory day. I vote we have a game of spigots after supper."

You play spigots by throwing large wooden balls from one end of the room into wooden boxes at the other end. Usually the Old Monkey fetches all the balls back, but this evening he found he had a good new helper. Brass is simply splendid at fetching balls back.

Goodman gave Brass a dog-collar that had once been given to him by mistake, and Brass was so delighted that he began to bark, and then, seeing Uncle watching him, managed to turn it into a kind of muffled squeak.

"Good," said Uncle, "you remembered, almost in time, that there is no barking in the house. I see you're trying to obey me. Here is an extra dog-biscuit."

Brass wolfed the biscuit in a second and then showed his gratitude by lying till bedtime with his nose on Uncle's shoe.

TWO

A Home Day

Next morning Uncle had just finished his bucket of breakfast cocoa, and was reading his letters, when Sleepy Sam came in with Brass from the terrace.

"Well, you two, I hope you had a peaceful first night together," said Uncle. "I slept like a top myself."

"I just managed to stop Brass barking, sir," said Sleepy Sam, "or you'd have been wide awake. But we dealt with Flabskin quietly."

"Flabskin!" Uncle was startled. It was a long time since they had seen anything of this floppy creature from Badfort, who is well known for his ability to move silently on his large padded feet.

"Yes, he came scouting during the night."

"I smelt him, sir," said Brass eagerly, "and I woke up Sleepy Sam, but I didn't bark."

"I'm glad you didn't," said Uncle approvingly, "but why didn't you? Under the circumstances I would have thought it natural to let out a yelp or two."

"I thought whatever was coming might be a friend," said Brass. "I don't know who's who yet."

"He just licked my hand and woke me up," said Sleepy Sam, "and there was Flabskin almost near enough to touch. He sneaked up so close, he did, on those great flabby feet."

"So what did you do?" asked Uncle.

"I just whispered 'After him' to Brass, and our good new friend was on him in a flash. Flabskin fell into the moat and floundered off."

"I gave him a good nip," said Brass.

"Splendid, both of you," said Uncle, "though I'm afraid this is distressing news. Things are on the move again at Badfort, and just when I need a little peace for my visitors. I've had a letter from my aunt, Miss Maidy. She and her companion Miss Wace are coming to see me today."

"Oh good!" cried the Old Monkey, for he is very fond of these two ladies. "I'll get Mig to cook something special."

The dwarf Mig is Uncle's cook, and a very good cook he is. He does most of his cooking on an oxy-acetylene gas stove. He stands on the stove to work, and wears dark glasses, or the glare would ruin his eyes.

"You've made a splendid start, Brass," said Uncle. "Sit down with us, both of you, and have some extra refreshment. Have you got a ham bone for Brass, Old Monkey?"

"Please, sir, I'm not used to eating at table yet. Could I have the bone on the mat?" asked Brass.

"Well, you'll have to learn how to behave in decent surroundings, Brass, but for once have the bone on the mat. You can't learn everything all at once."

They were having a peaceful meal when the front door was flung open and, outlined against the golden morning light, was a hideous and familiar figure. It was Beaver Hateman himself in his usual torn sack suit and old top hat. He never has his hair cut and it's a horrible dirty yellow colour.

"Hi, you!" he shouted, pointing at Uncle.

Brass leapt up from the mat and barked, one of his really ear-blasting barks. Even Beaver Hateman, who is used to noises of the most ghastly kind, flinched. Then he recovered and shouted:

"Look here, I'm sick of you getting new animals to work against me. That squawking parrot was nosing around our quiet little fishing party yesterday, and last night this cur severely wounded my friend Flabskin!"

"May I inquire," said Uncle, looking at Beaver Hateman through the large glasses he uses for reading his letters, "what your friend Flabskin was doing on my terrace in the middle of the night?"

"It's a free country, isn't it, and Flabskin suffers from sleeplessness! He often takes a quiet stroll in the night."

"Quiet is right!" said Uncle ominously.

"And now he's very ill and may have to go to hospital. This will go into the Badfort News, I warn you!"

"You may put precisely what you like in that scurrilous rag!" said Uncle, picking up a letter and turning away with dignity.

"If you don't get rid of that ugly yellow brute we'll get rid of him for you!" yelled Hateman, and swung his stone club in a menacing manner towards Brass.

This was too much for Brass, who growled, and then leaped at Hateman, barking. Even Hateman could not stand this and he rushed out, Brass after him. The Old Monkey and Goodman ran to the door to sec what was happening.

"Oh, Brass has run right up Hateman's back, sir!" cried the Old Monkey.

"Now after this rowdy beginning I hope things will settle down and we can have a quiet morning," said Uncle. "Brass has already proved himself an excellent watchdog, I think."

Everybody agreed that he had, and they finished breakfast in excellent spirits.

Brass went off exploring on his own during the morning, as there were plenty of people to keep watch on the terrace, and came back carrying a very dirty piece of paper in his mouth.

"What is that?" asked Uncle.

"It's a message for you, sir."

"Undo it for me, Goodman," said Uncle.

"It's dirty and damp, sir," said Goodman, who is very fastidious.

"Open it!" said Uncle.

When Uncle speaks sternly, everybody obeys, and very unwillingly Goodman unscrewed the piece of paper and spread it out.

"Shall I read what it says?" he asked. "It's not very good writing, but I'm very good at reading all sorts of writing, as you know, sir."

"Read it," said Uncle, "without extra comment."

"Sir," read Goodman, "will somebody please come and rescue me. I am shut inside your Jewel Room and can't get out. Provisions are running low. Please help. Miss Iama Goldsack."

"Miss what?" asked Uncle.

"I-A-M-A." Goodman spelt it out slowly.

"Iama Goldsack, curious name," said Uncle. "How did you get this paper, Brass?"

"I was having a run along those shabby shut-up towers along the moat there, and I smelt there was a person about, although I couldn't see anybody. So I went closer to the wall and sniffed along it, and after a while I got to a door, a very heavy door, studded with nails, and with a little barred window near the top."

"I've never seen such a door," said Uncle. "Have you, Old Monkey?"

"No, sir, but then we have never explored that part of Homeward. We always thought it looked dull and empty."

"It appears we were wrong. Tell me, Brass, what happened when you got to this unusual door?"

"One of the small panes behind the bars was broken, sir, and as I was sniffing about, this paper fell from it and I saw a small thin hand waving. There is no handle on the door, I can't imagine how anybody gets in or out."

"Miss Goldsack evidently got in," said Uncle. "What she has done we can do. I'll rescue her tomorrow. My aunt is coming today."

"What about sending her one of those large thin sticks of French bread," said the Old Monkey, "and some sausages. Those would go through the small hole in the window and keep her going."

"Excellent," said Uncle, "and wrap the eatables in Cellophane for hygienic reasons."

Brass went off with the Old Monkey to get the provisions, and Uncle got Lucy to dust the big hall for his aunt's special benefit. Lucy is good at dusting, being able to fly on to the top of large pieces of furniture.

Everything was tidier than usual when Miss Maidy and Miss Wace arrived. They arrived by the spiral lift, which is like an ordinary lift except that it goes round and round instead of up and down. It is the shortest way of getting to Afghan Flats where Miss Maidy lives. Afghan Flats is a part of Homeward inhabited mainly by dwarfs, who are a pretty cantankerous lot. Much of Uncle's wealth comes from them, and they all pay rent to him. Very low rent, but when there are thousands of them it mounts up.

Battles between the dwarfs and the two ladies go on daily. Miss Maidy uses an umbrella as a weapon, and Miss Wace a weighted shopping-bag.

Miss Maidy has a massive figure and Miss Wace is thin, positively wispy, so they look rather strange together, but they get on splendidly.

"Come in, come!" said Uncle. "How are you, Auntie?"

"A little giddy after going round and round all the way down the tower, but it will soon wear off. Don't take any notice of Wacy. She'll go round in circles for a bit!"

Miss Wace was doing a sort of circular dance, but was slowing down, fortunately.

"Come out on to the terrace," said Uncle. "The Old Monkey has got your room ready, but sit down and have some bananas and Koolvat to keep you going till lunch."

"I felt I had to have a look at you after that awful fire, dear," said Miss Maidy. "How wicked those Badfort people are! Nearly as bad as my beastly dwarfs. Do you know that one of them was hiding in my bread tin yesterday and handing out the loaves to his relations!"

"Never mind, Auntie," said Uncle. "You can now have a few days free from dwarfs."

"Always a pleasure to stay at Homeward, dear," said Miss Maidy, taking another banana. "Have another banana, Wacy, they're excellent."

"Thanks," said Miss Wace, who though so thin eats a great deal.

"Nice not to have any meals to cook, eh, Wacy?" said Miss Maidy.

"Yes, indeed," said Miss Wace, "and all the things to eat I like best." "You have such a good staff," said Miss Maidy. "The Old Monkey and the One-Armed Badger are dears, both of them. And I like Goodman and Lucy. What about this new dog Brass?"

"He's most promising," said Uncle, and gave his aunt a full account of Brass's first night and day at Homeward.

"A Jewel Room, eh?" said Miss Maidy. "That I would like to see. Jewellery of any kind appeals to me."

"I thought we'd go and have a look at it tomorrow," said Uncle.

"Tomorrow," said Miss Maidy, "but what about this Miss What's-her-name? We can't just leave her shut up now we know she's there. We must go and rescue her as soon as we've had lunch."

They played a game of spigots to get up a good appetite. Uncle let his aunt win as a treat, and Miss Wace came second. Uncle gave his aunt a seven-pound box of chocolates, and Miss Wace a silver-mounted tin of face cream.

Alonzo S. Whitebeard, the well-known miser, joined them for lunch. He had combed his beard and put on a fairly clean shirt, in honour of Miss Maidy.

Once Whitebeard took a big part in rescuing Uncle from danger, so he is an old friend, and Uncle tries as much as possible to overlook his miserly ways.

"A Jewel Room!" he said, and his small eyes glittered. "Can I join your expedition, sir?"

"I'm not sure it would be good for you, Whitebeard," said Uncle. "You'll get too excited."

"I may well be useful," said Whitebeard. "The dog Brass can smell people, but I believe I can smell gold from a long distance."

"That is not something to boast about, Whitebeard," said Uncle. "As I have said to you on a number of occasions, you should try to conquer avarice."

"But you'll want all the help you can get if this unfortunate lady is to be set free," said Whitebeard. "Think if Miss Maidy was shut up there, provisions running low."

"And I was to be left till tomorrow," said Miss Maidy, looking rather sternly at Uncle. "You'd better come, Whitebeard," said Uncle hastily. "Oh, thank you, sir. She has such an attractive name--Iama Goldsack. I feel quite curious about her!"

THREE

The Jewel Room

The part of Homeward where Uncle lives is in a big airy wing of his vast castle, but there is a part lying back from this which is so unattractive that it is not often visited. The long grey wall has very few windows in it. There are no doors except the strongly studded one with the small barred window; to this Brass led the way that afternoon.

Goodman ran by his side and Lucy flew overhead. The rest came on more slowly.

"Fancy me showing all these important people where to go!" panted Brass. "I wish Mrs Moonray could see me!"

"I hope you've got it right," said Goodman. "You'll look pretty silly if you can't find that door again."

"Of course I've got it right!" said Brass. "I can smell things just as well this afternoon as I could this morning."

"I know from experience," said Goodman, "that sometimes the wind shifts and then you can't smell anything."

"There it is!" said Brass, and gave a small bark. At once a thin grimy hand showed at the barred window.

"There!" cried Brass in triumph.

"Have you come to rescue me, good dog?" cried a voice which sounded quite a long way off because the door was so very thick.

"Yes, Miss Goldsack," said Brass, "I've just led a rescue expedition and it is nearly here."

"I led it too," said Goodman.

"Is that a cat?" cried Miss Goldsack. "Now I do feel cheered up."

"I was in front of everybody too!" cried Lucy.

"That sounds like a parrot!" Miss Goldsack sounded oveijoyed. "A cat, a dog and a parrot! How homely! All I want now is a cup of tea and my feet on a good hearth rug!"

"The Master of Homeward is nearly here," said Brass, "so we'll soon have you out."

"The Master of Homeward? Oh, I don't want to see him!" cried Miss Goldsack.

Goodman, Lucy and Brass looked at each other in surprise.

"Everybody wants to see him!" said Goodman, disapprovingly. "He's a public benefactor."

"But I've got into all this trouble by trying to avoid him! He was trying to double my rent and threatened me with a stone club!"

"Oh, I know who that is!" squawked Lucy. "He's not the Master of Homeward anyway!"

"He said he was!" said Miss Goldsack.

By now Uncle was near, and Goodman ran to explain. Uncle grasped the situation instantly, and hurried to speak to the unhappy prisoner.

"Now, Miss Goldbag," he said in a loud clear voice.

"Goldsack, dear," corrected Miss Maidy.

"Now Miss Goldsack, I am Uncle, the Master of Homeward, and I am here to rescue you."

"You don't sound like him!" said Miss Goldsack in a doubtful voice.

"I am glad to hear it," said Uncle. "You have been the victim of a fraud. Tell me, does the miscreant who has been collecting your rent wear a dirty sack suit and broken boots?"

"Yes, and he said while I paid such a low rent he couldn't afford to dress any better."

"That's Beaver Hateman," said Uncle. "Cheer up, Miss Goldsack, better days lie ahead. Now tell me exactly how you got through this door. There is no handle on this side, and I gather none on yours."

"No, you can't even see where the door is from this side. There's just this little window which I can reach by standing on tiptoe--"

"But you must have got in somehow!"

Uncle was getting impatient, and more and more inclined to give the door a good kick.

"Steady, dear," said Miss Maidy.

"Two days ago, as it was rent day, I decided to be away from home all day," said Miss Goldsack.

"Excellent move!" cried Whitebeard.

"What a nice voice!" said Miss Goldsack. "Who is that?"

"Alonzo S. Whitebeard, madam." Uncle shifted from one foot to another and breathed heavily. "Now let us concentrate on the matter in hand and you will soon meet him."

"She's in for a disappointment," said Miss Maidy, rather too loudly to Miss Wace.

Whitebeard glared at her, and then combed his scanty locks with his fingers and fixed a ghastly smile on his face in preparation for meeting Miss Goldsack.

"As I was going to be out all day I took some provisions. My flat overlooks Gaby's Marsh and I wanted to be as far from it as possible when the rent collector came. I got rather tired of carrying my heavy Thermos flask of dandelion tea."

"Dandelion tea--how thrifty!" cried Whitebeard.

"Go on!" said Uncle. "Get to the point, Miss Goldsack, if you please!"

"I was looking for somewhere to hide it so that wandering dwarfs wouldn't pick it up."

"A necessary move, indeed," said Miss Maidy.

"There was this good big drainpipe--can you see it?"

They all looked, and they could.

"Yes, yes," said Uncle.

"So I wedged my Thermos flask up into that drainpipe. When I came back I had to feel around, as I'd wedged it rather too hard, and while I was doing this I felt a little chain hanging down inside the pipe. So I pulled it."

"Naturally," said Uncle.

"And the big door swung open. And there was a plain wall with just four words on it. jbwbl room, entry here. So I came in. I just couldn't resist it!"

"You were trespassing, of course," said Uncle.

"Yes, I suppose I was, but haven't I been punished enough by having the door shut silently behind me! I thought I would die of starvation."

"Freedom is in sight, Miss Goldsack! Now for this chain," said Uncle, glad at the prospect of action instead of talk.

An elephant's trunk is an excellent thing for feeling up drainpipes, and Uncle soon felt the little chain and gave it a strong pull. Everybody gasped as the great studded door swung silently open, and there was Miss Goldsack before them at last.

She was very plain-looking, and dressed in a sailcloth dress with large pockets. The long thin stick of French bread Uncle had sent by Brass was sticking out of one pocket, and the Thermos out of the other.

"Now don't let the door close again!" roared Uncle.

But it was too late. As Miss Goldsack stepped out into the sunshine the door shut powerfully and swiftly behind her.

"What if we can't get it open again!" shouted Whitebeard in anguish.

"Of course we can get it open," said Uncle. "But when we go on to the Jewel Room somebody must stay outside to pull the chain in the drainpipe when we want to go home."

"Perhaps Miss Goldsack would like to sit quietly in the sunshine and recover a little?" said Miss Maidy.

"No, no!" cried Miss Goldsack. "Please, I must see the Jewel Room! I've been thinking about it all the time!"

"And no doubt the beautiful thought kept you going," said Whitebeard. "I understand that."

"I'll stay outside, sir," said Brass. "I've never seen any jewels, and I'm quite happy enough as I am."

"Good," said Uncle, "so that's settled. Have you some provisions, One-Armed? All this talking has made me hungry."

So they sat down on the grass and had some chocolate buns, buttered biscuits, bananas and macaroons. Uncle is particularly fond of these. Uncle noticed that Miss Goldsack, besides eating a great deal, put portions of food into her big pockets. This was an odious thing to do, but of course she had been very short of food. She might not do it always. Whitebeard sat next to her and kept her well supplied.

Soon they were all ready for the attempt to get into the mysterious Jewel Room. It was difficult to get everybody inside the space beyond the door, for each time someone crossed the threshold the door tried to shut. Only Uncle's mighty bulk was too much for it. Although he could feel it pushing against him he held it back till everybody was inside. Then he stepped in and it slid silently into place.

"Now watch well, Brass!" called Uncle, through the small broken pane. "We rely on you, you know."

"I'll be here, sir!" shouted Brass, and barked once or twice just to show he was on guard.

There were now Uncle, Miss Maidy, Miss Wace, the Old Monkey, the One-Armed Badger, Goodman, Lucy, Miss Gold-sack and Whitebeard in the small passage. It soon got very hot, and they felt very uncomfortable, but nobody wanted to give up and go outside into the fresh air in case the way became clear. They felt over every inch of the walls but there seemed no sticking-out bits, no secret panels. And yet the four words jewel room, entry here were in front of them.

Just when they were beginning to despair, Lucy, who had been flying round near the high ceiling, gave a joyous shriek.

"There's some very small writing up here, and a little hook just where the light flex comes down."

"It looks like a smudge from here," said Uncle.

"If I hold on to the light flex maybe I can read it. If you've got a pencil I can write it down."

Uncle tore a leaf out of his diary and Lucy flew down and collected it and a pencil and then flew up again. For a time there was silence except for the faint sound of Lucy's scribbling.

At last she flew down and handed the page to Uncle.

"You'd better read it, Goodman," said Uncle. "I've left my glasses at home."

This is what Goodman read out:

"An elephant only can open this room

And it must be an elephant in full bloom.

Let him stand straight with his back to the door

With his feet upon four squares of the floor.

Let him give this hook a little pull

And his trunk with treasures shall be full.

If he wants to lock up the place once more

All he need do is to slam the door."

"Hurrah!" squawked Lucy.

"The way is now clear to the Jewel Room!" cried Whitebeard.

"Not just yet. I've got to get the instructions right," said Uncle, and arranged himself, with the help of Miss Maidy and the Old Monkey, so that his feet were exactly on four squares of the tiled floor.

"You can see why it has to be an elephant. Nobody else could reach up to the ceiling and have his feet on the floor at the same time," said Miss Maidy.

That was true, and they all watched with some anxiety as Uncle stood firm and felt with his trunk round the little smudge on the ceiling. He could just reach it.

"Can you pull it, dear?" asked Miss Maidy.

At first Uncle couldn't, but at last, after a great deal of puffing and stretching, he managed to get a firm grip on the small hook and pull it as instructed.

Everybody was staring at the ceiling, and at first did not notice that the whole wall on which the four words jewel room, entry here were printed was silently sliding aside. Lucy was the first to see it, and she fluttered up to the ceiling squawking.

"Look, there it is! There's the Jewel Room."

And there, indeed, it was. They all stood gazing at long tables laden with gold cups and dishes, at silver fire-irons piled in heaps, at a silver sideboard holding a whole forest of candelabra, at chairs studded with diamonds and rubies, at chests too full of antique coins and table silver to close properly. There was even a little gold cottage with a silver chimney. Most beautiful of all were the glittering festoons of necklaces, rings and bracelets hanging on chains from the ceiling. The whole room was lit by one golden lamp.

There was a sudden crash. Alonzo S. Whitebeard had fainted. Miss Goldsack, with great presence of mind, poured what was left of her dandelion tea on to his forehead, and he gradually recovered.

Uncle was the first to speak.

"Friends, I did not expect this immense treasure, but this castle of mine is full of surprises, and all I can do is to assure you that I shall try to use this new wealth for good. For the moment I shall content myself by giving each lady present a necklace--"

"For me too?" asked Miss Goldsack.

"Certainly," said Uncle. "Please all keep your places for a moment while I select four."

The occasion was awe-inspiring.

"First, for my aunt Miss Maidy a pearl-and-sapphire necklace," said Uncle. "She is the only relative of mine present, and it is the most valuable I can see."

"Thanks, dear, pearls and sapphires are my favourites," said Miss Maidy. "The only trouble is that the dwarfs will be after it."

Miss Wace got rubies, Lucy ruby-and-topaz and Miss Goldsack amethyst-and-sapphire.

"For the male members of my staff, and also Whitebeard, I think a gold walking-stick each with a ruby-and-diamond handle.

"Can we take one for Brass?" asked Goodman.

"Certainly. And now let us close this place and get out. Much though I admire good jewellery and silverware, too much of it is overpowering. Just go into the outer passage and tell Brass to open the door," said Uncle to the Old Monkey.

Uncle got the door to the Jewel Room satisfactorily closed, and then turned, fully expecting to find the way clear to march out into the open air. He was already pretty tired of the stuffy atmosphere of the Jewel Room.

But the Old Monkey looked up at him with a worried face.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, "but I can't make Brass hear. There was no answer when I called. I'm afraid we're locked in, sir!"

FOUR

The Imprisonment

Uncle was the only one tall enough to look through the small broken pane.

"Brass!" he called in his tremendous voice.

But the shaggy yellow dog did not appear.

Lucy tried to squeeze through the opening, but it was too small even for her, and the stout iron bars prevented a larger hole being made.

Already it was getting very hot. Uncle was particularly uncomfortable as he is so apt to tread on somebody small when they are too close to him.

"I am somewhat disappointed," he said. "I felt sure Brass was worthy of complete trust."

"Oh, he is, sir!" said Goodman. "I know he is."

"If he's not there it's not his fault, I'm sure, sir," said the Old Monkey.

"Something awful must have happened to him," said Lucy.

It was a grave thought. Uncle remembered uneasily that only that morning Hateman had vowed that he would get rid of Brass somehow.

"I blame myself," said Uncle. "We were all dazzled by the thought of the Jewel Room, and left an inexperienced friend outside alone. Perhaps he asked for help in vain."

"Well, he didn't bark," said Goodman.

"No, we'd have heard that!" said the Old Monkey.

"Let us all sit down," said Uncle, "and see what resources we have. We can't eat diamonds and rubies--"

"And we may be shut up for days!" squawked Lucy.

"Nobody but Brass knows where we are!" said the Old Monkey in a trembling voice.

"If he has been taken prisoner by one of the Badfort Crowd we may never get out!" said Uncle.

"Oh, buck up everybody!" cried Miss Maidy bracingly. "If we don't get home by dark Will Shudder will do something. He'll get Cowgill to form a search party. We'll be rescued all right."

"But many hours may pass and we have few provisions," said Uncle. "We must count up what we have and share them out."

This is where Miss Goldsack's pocketfuls of food, and Whitebeard's detestable habit of storing extra provisions under his long white beard came in useful. To do them justice they both put their somewhat battered store of provisions out for general consumption. The One-Armed Badger was nearly in tears because though he had brought a large picnic tea, it had all been eaten, and now all he had to offer were clean socks, bandages and glucose tablets.

"We will all have a glucose tablet to keep up our energy," said Uncle.

So they sat there, sucking glucose tablets and looking, without much enthusiasm, at their necklaces and golden walking-sticks.

The sun was setting beyond the moat and it would soon be dark.

"Let's sing," said Miss Maidy. "Nephew, you start."

"Sing the one about the daisy on the slag heap, the one you sang at Lost Clinkers soon after I came to live with you," said Goodman.

"Ah, you remember it, do you?" said Uncle, pleased.

"Of course," said Goodman, "though as a matter of fact I've never seen a daisy growing on a slag heap."

"Sing 'Homeward', sir, please sing 'Homeward'," begged the Old Monkey.

"Very well," said Uncle, "though to tell the truth I don't feel much like singing in this prison."

"It will cheer us all up, dear," said Miss Maidy.

Uncle has a very small singing voice, which always surprises people as he is so large. Still, it was just as well it was small as they were all crushed into such a narrow passage.

The song 'Homeward' had been specially written for Uncle by T. E. Gordono, the Music Master, whom everybody calls the Maestro. He lives at Watercress Tower and teaches Uncle to play the bass viol, and flies into a passion every time Uncle gets a note wrong.

It's a good thing he wasn't present at this moment as Uncle started in too high a key and was squeaking before he got to the end of the first line. He had to start again. Still, he got going at last, and soon the Old Monkey and several of the others had tears in their eyes.

This is the song:

"I was walking one day in the streets of the city

When I thought of my home so far, far away.

Oh, why am I here in this place! What a pity!

When I could be at home at the close of the day.

"Now the chorus all together!" said Uncle, waving his trunk to keep time:

"Homeward, Homeward, there in the sunset,

Waiting for me with each window aglow.

Homeward, Homeward, there in the twilight

Waiting for me who has so far to go!"

Several of the party, thinking of their comfortable beds and supper, were sobbing.

"I thought you were going to cheer us up, dear," said Miss Maidy, blowing her nose very loudly. "Don't you think that line 'Waiting for me with each window aglow' is going a bit far-- when you consider how many towers there are in Homeward?"

But her somewhat acid comment was hardly noticed for, from outside, came the sound they had all been waiting for--Brass's bark. Rather a feeble bark, but unmistakable.

"Brass!" shouted Uncle. "Where have you been?"

Peering with difficulty through the small hole, Uncle saw a sad sight. The face poor Brass lifted towards the sound of Uncle's voice was horribly swollen. He was limping badly, too.

"Oh, sir," he said, "I got back as soon as I could!"

"Can you manage to feel for the chain in the drainpipe?" shouted Uncle. "Or is your paw too swollen?"

"No, I think I can manage!" said Brass.

Soon the anxious listeners heard the small rattle of the chain against the metal side of the drainpipe. The door slid powerfully back. They trooped out into the fresh air hastily, and the door slid instantly back into place behind them.

They were all shocked by the sad appearance of their wounded friend.

"One-Armed, have you any magic ointment in your pack?" asked Uncle.

The One-Armed Badger was already searching for the healing ointment.

"Who attacked you?" asked Uncle.

A little creature with a sharp nose, hair all over his eyes, and lots of sharp metal things stuck into his belt."

"Hitmouse!" said several people at once.

"I fear so," said Uncle, "and his skewers are often poisoned!"

"That explains why my nose has swollen up so badly," said Brass. "I've been in lots of fights in my time, but I've never felt like this."

"We will look after you," said Uncle. "Meanwhile you have done finely to get back so soon."

"I was just sitting there by the drainpipe waiting for you to signal," said Brass, "when I felt a sharp stab in my ear, and then something metal fell to the ground. Before I could collect myself I felt another stab in my nose."

"My poor friend, you have been savagely attacked," said Uncle. "Are there any provisions left at all for Brass?"

They could only manage to produce between them the very end of the French loaf, three glucose tablets and a tin of cough sweets which Miss Wace had in her handbag. However, Brass ate the lot gratefully. While the One-Armed Badger was plastering him with soothing layers of magic ointment he managed to tell them the rest of his story.

"This horrible little creature was shouting at me, 'Tell me where the big bully has gone and what he's after, or I'll let you have one in the eye!' I knew I had to get him away from this place, for he must not see how I opened the door--"

"Well thought out!" said Uncle.

"So I chased him into the moat--"

"Where he at once started swimming under water--I know," said Uncle.

"Yes, I was a bit worried by that. I couldn't think where he'd come up, and I knew when he did that he would follow me back here. So I thought the only thing was to hide near the moat and wait for him--"

"Excellent!" said Uncle.

"As soon as he surfaced he started straight back, so I dashed out at him and ran along the edge of the moat barking. I managed to stop him diving in again. When he got to the drawbridge I got close enough to nip him several times, sir. Then I chased him back to Badfort."

"Well done, indeed," said Uncle. "Tonight you shall sleep by the log fire in the hall and the One-Armed Badger will keep an eye on you."

"I wish you would come and help me in my fight against the dwarfs in Afghan Flats," said Miss Maidy.

"Perhaps when things are particularly bad I might lend him to you for a day or so," said Uncle.

"What about me?" Miss Goldsack asked anxiously. "It will soon be dark and I really don't feel like returning to my flat tonight."

"You can stay with us," said Uncle, "until you have recovered a little."

The Old Monkey told Brass that he was now the owner of a jewelled walking-stick, but he would carry it for him as he was limping rather badly.

"Now for home and a flagon or two of Hot Joey!" said Uncle.

Hot Joey is a drink rather like ginger beer. It is very good after a fight of any kind.

They all sang the chorus from the song 'Homeward' as they marched along, and thoroughly enjoyed it, as they felt supper and warm beds coming nearer with every step.

FIVE

A Traction Trip

Next morning they all slept late. Brass's nose was still rather swollen, but he was able to eat a large breakfast.

Everybody was talking about the Jewel Room and what he would do if it belonged to him.

"As I'm the only person who can open and shut it--" said Uncle.

"Are you, sir, how's that?" interrupted Brass, who hadn't, of course, been there when the room was opened.

"The instruction said it could only be opened by an elephant in full bloom," said Uncle, "and I think I can say without boasting that that is what I am. And I feel inclined to keep the room closed. I've got too much on hand to spend valuable time staring at jewellery."

The One-Armed Badger was, of course, all for giving the jewellery away.

Lucy said she could do with a few more bright things to decorate her cubby-hole in the roof.

Miss Maidy said she would be quite satisfied to visit it every now and again with a few choice friends and let them pick out a present.

The Old Monkey and Goodman agreed they couldn't see a lot of difference between real jewels and the sort which Cheapman sold to bears and wolves and badgers.

Whitebeard and Miss Goldsack were deeply shocked by this.

"If the Jewel Room belonged to me, sir," said Whitebeard, his eyes shining at just the thought of such rapture, "I would find time, whatever business I had on hand, to go one day a week, taking lunch, just to gloat over the jewels. I might do a little dusting, but most of the time I would just be saying all this mine, mine!"

"I'd go often, too," said Miss Goldsack. "The sight ofjewels-- real ones, of course--is just like a tonic to me!"

The Old Monkey said quietly to Uncle:

"Whitebeard seems to have found a friend, sir." "Exactly what I was thinking," said Uncle.

They spent a quiet morning by the moat, and Uncle announced that he intended to take the newly overhauled traction engine up to Badfort in the afternoon. He wished to consult Cheapman about the Jewel Room.

Nearly everybody wanted to go with him.

Miss Maidy and Miss Wace wanted new hot-water bottles.

"A dwarf stuck darning-needles into ours," said Miss Maidy.

The Old Monkey always loved going to Cheapman's. The great shop is built in a circle. There are no staircases, but a kind of circular walk rising gently from floor to floor. There is also an air-car which goes slowly and steadily on rails round and round and up and up, and then round and round and down and down. It never stops, but goes so slowly that even elderly badgers can get off easily. The Old Monkey rides on it, but sometimes takes short cuts, sliding down the supporting pillars between floors.

Whitebeard asked to go in order to show Miss Goldsack Cheapman's bargain basement.

Brass had never seen a shop and longed to go.

"Please, sir," said the One-Armed Badger, "I think Brass should spend the afternoon by the moat resting his wounded foot. I will stay with him."

"Well, Brass, I'm sorry," said Uncle, "but I feel this advice is good. A skewer wound from Hitmouse can be dangerous, you know."

When Cowgill brought the traction engine round they were all ready. Cowgill has a hill and stair climbing tank of the most modern kind which he keeps for Uncle's exploring expeditions in very high towers, but he likes the traction engine best. He is a small dark man who wears a well-brushed bowler hat with his neat engineer's overalls. Today he had a large white dahlia in his buttonhole. He grows them himself.

"She's in real bonny fettle," he said, smiling fondly at the great glittering machine. "But there's trouble at Badfort. We may have difficulty getting past. The Badgertown police are there."

"What for this time?" asked Uncle.

"Beaver Hateman won't pay his rates, sir, and the King of the Badgers has got tired of sending him lawyers' letters."

"One thing, if they are busy with the police," said Uncle, "they'll hardly have time to throw bags of ashes on the newly-painted traction engine."

"Let's hope you're right, sir," said Cowgill.

Uncle took his usual seat in a great gilded armchair among the coal, and Cowgill had put a number of chairs in the trailer for the rest.

"Please, sir, what are rates?" asked Brass, just as they were about to start.

"Well, now," said Uncle, "anybody willing to explain what rates are to Brass?"

Nobody was.

"I know I pay immense sums to the King of the Badgers," said Uncle. "They are--how can I put it ... simply--"

Everybody waited politely.

"The dwarfs don't pay any," said Miss Maidy, who had opened her umbrella to act as a sunshade.

"Send for Will Shudder," roared Uncle, "and tell him to bring his Shorter Cowcross Dictionary!"

In a moment or two Will Shudder appeared wheeling his book trolley, on which lay all the volumes of the huge dictionary. "Now Shudder, our new friend Brass wishes to know what rates are. Can you quickly look it up?"

"Certainly, sir," said Shudder. He selected the appropriate volume in a second and flicked over the pages in a positive snowstorm of paper. "Ah, here we are, rascal, raspberry, rat, ratchet, rate. Ah. Yes. 'Amount of assessment on property for local purposes.' That's it, put very simply, sir."

"You see, Brass," said Uncle.

"No," said Brass.

"Use your brains, Brass. You have them, you know," said Uncle hastily. Then, seeing general blank looks around him, he said, "Shudder, make this even clearer for our friend. He's only a beginner in worldly matters, you know."

"It would come better from you, sir," said Shudder modestly, "as the owner of Homeward."

Uncle's mighty brain made a big effort. "You see my splendid shining castle, Brass?"

"Yes," said Brass, rolling his eyes briefly towards the towers.

"Naturally I pay more for rates than the owner of that degraded pile!" Uncle waved towards Badfort.

"Pay more for what?" asked Brass.

Uncle, who hates having to explain things, felt himself being driven into a corner. "Will Shudder, you're the scholar, explain, and make it short, if you don't mind."

"Up in Badgertown," said Will Shudder, perfectly at ease, for he had once been a schoolmaster and is used to explaining things, "there is a big building called a town hall where a lot of people work for the King of the Badgers and for us. They decide how many parks we shall have, how many schools, how many swimming pools, how many roads, how much water, how many police and firemen. They can't do all this for nothing, so we all pay them to do it for us. It's a bit unfair, perhaps, that the better the house you have the more you have to pay. Now, say you had a big shining kennel, Brass--"

"What's a kennel?" asked Brass. But Uncle had had enough.

"Explain to him, Shudder," he said. "Take the afternoon off and get some sunshine. Help yourself to bananas and Koolvat. Cowgill, let's get going."

"Really, dear," said Miss Maidy, as they chugged over the drawbridge, "you ought to have your rates reduced when you have Badfort in front of you all the time." "I agree," said Uncle, "but I haven't the heart to suggest it. The King of the Badgers is always very hard up, you know. He depends on the high rates I pay for Homeward."

"Well, it's disgraceful that Hateman refuses to pay his rates," said Miss Maidy."Why should you pay for the road past Badfort to be kept in good repair, for that's what it amounts to, you know?"

"Yes, I do know," said Uncle.

As they got near Badfort they saw a sign, badgers at work, and indeed a trench was being dug under the foundations of Badfort. A smart young badger police sergeant came over to speak to Uncle when Cowgill slowed the traction engine down. "Sorry, sir, to stop you, but you have ladies with you. I suggest you provide some cover for them before you pass Badfort."

"I have my umbrella up, officer," said Miss Maidy.

"Umbrellas are useless against duck-bombs, madam!"

"Duck bombs! Are they using duck-bombs?" said Uncle gravely.

"They are indeed, sir."

"This is serious!" said Uncle.

He knew from painful experience that the liquid, looking like lemonade, which covered you when a duck-bomb burst, turned, in a minute or two, into a tough jelly which couldn't be removed for many hours.

"I'll get out the tarpaulin we keep for wet weather," said Cowgill. "It's in a locker at the back of the trailer." Whitebeard, Uncle and Miss Wace, who is a very nimble person, stretched the tarpaulin over the trailer.

Mocking yells and whistles sounded from Badfort. A number of degraded people in sack suits were hanging out of the upper windows, where all the glass was, of course, smashed. Some had duck-bombs balanced ready to throw, others had baskets of egg-bombs, which are filled with glue, ink and tin tacks.

"We've had to set up a first-aid post, sir," said the sergeant. "A number of my chaps are so covered with jelly they can't move. It's a rotten business, sir."

"What is your plan, officer?"

"Well, you know how it is, sir, if you won't pay rates you get your property confiscated and sold to pay them. The only thing Beaver Hateman values is his store of Black Tom which he brews himself."

"Atrocious liquid," said Uncle.

"Well, we're planning to get at the underground tank and drain the liquid into barrels. We can find a ready sale for it, sir."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Uncle. "I was once able to destroy their supplies, and I am grieved to learn that the store of liquid has been built up again."

By now they had the tarpaulin over their heads.

"Just keep going nice and steady, Mr Cowgill." The policeman waved them on.

Half-bricks, stones and skewers thudded down on to the tarpaulin as they chugged past. Many odious remarks were clearly heard.

"That's Unc--the biggest lump!"

"Cowards!"

"Daren't show your ugly mugs!"

Cowgill put on steam to get up the last rise before Badgertown, and they all emerged from shelter and looked back at Badfort. As they watched, one of the workmen was hit by a duck-bomb and was seen being led to the first-aid post.

"What a disgraceful scene for a civilized country!" said Uncle.

When they got to Cheapman's the store was even more crowded than usual. It was 'buy two pay for one' day and the place was crammed with joyful goats, rams, giraffes, wolves and pigs, as well as badgers, each clutching two tins of sardines or of pineapple, or two jars of honey, or two pairs of salad servers.

"Wacy, we will get four hot-water bottles," said Miss Maidy, "and keep two in reserve in case of another needle attack!"

Uncle left his party to do their shopping and went to Cheapman's office, a large room furnished with gold-painted chairs and tables and a magnificent gold desk. Today in front of the desk was a chair for visitors Uncle had not seen before. It was a large leather chair made in the shape of a black egg.

"Please try it," said Cheapman. "It is one of my 'swell as you sit' range." Uncle was a bit unwilling to lower himself into it, as it looked rather small, but it was surprisingly comfortable and seemed to get bigger as he sat in it.

"Guaranteed to fit anybody like a glove," said Cheapman, smiling delightedly.

"Excellent. I think I must have a couple at Homeward," said Uncle.

"Allow me to send you two as a mark of my esteem," said Cheapman.

"Thank you," said Uncle, "but you have given me so many costly gifts I hesitate to accept anything more. On the other hand, if two of these chairs are in use at Homeward they will be well advertised for you."

"I had thought of that," said Cheapman, and the two magnates laughed. They understood each other perfectly.

"I really came today to give you a present," said Uncle, and took out of the pocket of his dressing-gown a very beautiful gold watch. "You know that the Castle of Homeward constantly surprises me. My latest discovery is a Jewel Room. I found this watch there, and hope you will accept it."

Even Cheapman, who deals in costly objects every day, was delighted and surprised by the watch. It melodiously chimed the hour as he held it, and started to announce, in a tiny, but perfectly clear voice, a summary of the news and weather.

"It must have a very small radio inside it," said Cheapman. "How delightful! Now tell me more about the Jewel Room."

Uncle gave his friend a full account. He also reminded Cheapman that he had once asked his advice about the gold block which had been found at Crack House.

"What do you feel about this latest discovery?" he asked. "What line should I take?"

"Judging by what you say I would keep it closed, and open it for exhibition occasionally to well-chosen visitors, or to supply rewards for particularly good deeds. The longer you can keep knowledge of it from certain neighbours of yours the better."

"Exactly my view."

"Now may I offer you some refreshment? This is the latest improvement to my office."

Cheapman touched a switch beneath his desk, and a panel in the wall behind him slid aside, revealing an alcove in which steaming pots of cocoa, coffee and tea stood on hot plates, and various cold drinks and ice creams showed through the glass of a cold compartment.

"I haven't had an ice cream for some time," said Uncle. "They seem too fiddling for ordinary eating, but I'd like one now."

"Try a Cheapman's Choice. A mixture of strawberries, bananas and nuts."

They both had one and felt considerably strengthened.

By the time Uncle and his party left Cheapman's the store was closing, and an interested crowd gathered round the traction engine to watch Uncle's party leave for Homeward.

"Miss Goldsack is a very shrewd shopper indeed," said Whitebeard to Uncle. "She even got one or two prices reduced in the bargain basement."

"Was that necessary?" asked Uncle, disapprovingly. "Cheapman's prices are always rockbottom, you know."

"Oh, it never does any harm to haggle a bit," said Whitebeard, gazing with admiration at Miss Goldsack who was showing the contents of her bag to Miss Maidy.

As they got near to Badfort, Cowgill stopped for the tarpaulin to be fixed again, and then increased speed as much as possible. Lucy, who had, as usual, been flying ahead, came back and perched on the tarpaulin near to Uncle. She had a serious piece of news.

"Sir," she squawked, "they've got something like a rickety sort of crane on the top of Badfort. It wasn't there when we went past to Badgertown. The Badgertown police aren't there now. They left when the workmen left."

"I don't like it, sir," said Cowgill. "The Badfort people have had the whole afternoon to get something ready."

"There is no other way home," said Uncle. "We must just make a run for it. Everybody crouch as low as possible."

There were no yells, which was ominous in itself, as they steamed at full speed past Badfort.

And then those in the trailer felt as if a giant crab was crawling over the tarpaulin. Whoosh--the whole cover was whipped off. Everybody gazed up in horror to see the tarpaulin making a jerky progress towards the roof of Badfort, held by a large rusty hook. Sack-suited figures could be seen wildly turning a wheel at the bottom of a primitive crane.

Uncle and his party were now exposed to a crowd of sordid yelling figures who crowded the upper windows of Badfort. There was Beaver Hatemen, with Filljug, Hitmouse, Nailrod, Sigismund, Flabskin, the Wooden-Legged Donkey and all the rest of the sordid crew.

"Keep your heads down!" trumpeted Uncle.

"Take that, Unc!" came in a horrible raucous yell from Beaver Hateman.

Luckily the duck-bomb, aimed at Uncle, fell short, but the dangerous fluid splashed against the flywheel of the traction engine. One or two egg-bombs fell in the trailer, and everybody was dismally shuffling about trying to get rid of ink, glue and tin tacks which spread over them in a loathsome mixture.

By using the utmost skill, Cowgill managed to get the traction engine, which every second was losing speed because of the clogging coat of leathery jelly, near enough to Homeward to be out of range of further missiles from Badfort.

"I'll get 'em for this, sir," he muttered to Uncle. "Just look at my sweetly-running beauty--nothing but a grey mess!"

"I'm very sorry, Cowgill," said Uncle, "but wickedness of this magnitude shall not go unpunished. Meanwhile let us walk up to the terrace and refresh ourselves with Koolvat and bananas. Afterwards everybody will help in a clearing-up operation."

"I was going to see Miss Goldsack back to her flat," said Whitebeard.

"You will help clear the traction engine first," said Uncle sternly. "I said everybody."

"I'm thinking it will be a long, long job," said Cowgill sadly.

SIX

Animal's Novelty Shop

All the next day was spent on wearisome work on the traction engine. Luckily the Badgertown police were still at Badfort, so nobody came to jeer at them, or throw things, as they worked.

Gleamhound, Uncle's chemist, who lives half-way up Lion Tower, provided some Stick-in-a-Flick Mixture guaranteed to set jelly to a rock-like firmness. As all Gleamhound's remedies work backwards this had removed some of the mass of rubbery jelly which was covering the big wheel, but not enough.

Nothing really worked but painstaking scraping by hand. Towards the end of the afternoon Whitebeard took Iama Goldsack home, and the rest of them had finished a game of spigots before he returned. He asked for a word in private with Uncle.

"Well, Whitebeard, what is on your mind?" asked Uncle, as they strolled towards the drawbridge.

"I don't know if you have noticed, sir, but during the last few days Miss Goldsack and I have grown much attached to each other."

"Of course I have noticed it," said Uncle, "and so, I think, have all the others."

"Well, sir, we liked each other from the start. To begin with, her name is so beautiful, Irene Alberta Minnie Amy Goldsack. These initials spell Iama Goldsack. The name is like music to me. And she is so wonderfully careful with money. It's a real treat to go shopping with her. She beats everybody down. And she also has money of her own."

"I'm not surprised," said Uncle.

"I am thinking of marrying her, sir. What do you think?" Uncle looked down at Whitebeard gravely.

"At your time of life I wouldn't expect you to think of marriage, but if you have got a real affection for her, not just for her money, it might be all right."

"They say two can live as cheaply as one. Do you think that's true, sir?" asked Whitebeard, looking anxious.

"I doubt it. Remember a woman has to have dresses. They cost a lot."

"Oh, but Iama only wears tarpaulin dresses," said Whitebeard. "She makes them herself, and they cost nothing."

"Well, is she economical in the house? You don't spend much on your farm, do you, and you have many meals here. You might find a big increase in your running expenses."

"I thought she could keep an eye on the farm for me and I could come over here just about as much as usual--if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," said Uncle, "but she may. However, you seem to get on together, and I'm sure we all wish you well. You mustn't expect any expensive wedding presents from me. You have got enough of everything." "Oh, I quite understand, sir," said Whitebeard, though he did look a little disappointed. "We will be having a very quiet wedding, with no guests, because of the expense. Iama says if I take her out to lunch that will do for a honeymoon, and she's got a ring that she found somewhere, so I won't have to buy one."

"That I do not altogether like, Whitebeard," said Uncle. "You are both pretty old, and it's time to think more of spending than saving."

"Oh, I don't think I could do that!"

"Well, try. I wish you both well, and we must mark the occasion somehow. Please ask Miss Goldsack if she will come to an engagement tea tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you, sir, that is splendid! I'll go at once and tell her!" said Whitebeard.

Uncle went to tell the Old Monkey to start preparing a celebration tea.

"I think a cake weighing about two hundredweight would be suitable," he said. "That ought to give everybody a couple of good slices."

"I hope this marriage will do Whitebeard good," said the Old Monkey, "but I am afraid Miss Goldsack may make him even more miserly."

"That is scarcely possible," said Uncle.

The Old Monkey hurried off to tell Mig. A two hundredweight cake would take some baking.

Brass was waiting to speak to Uncle, and by the look in his eye Uncle was afraid he was going to ask some difficult questions. After his interview with Whitebeard, Uncle felt like a little quiet, with nobody asking for advice.

"Well, what is it, Brass?" he asked, sighing a little.

"Please, sir," said Brass, "Mr Shudder explained to me what a kennel was, and I feel I would like somewhere to put my things. Since I came to you I have become very rich."

"Show me what you have, Brass," said Uncle.

Brass had a little parcel tied up with string and hanging round his neck. In it were nearly three pounds, an old razor blade, a pencil and two cough lozenges.

"You're right, that is a good deal of money," said Uncle, "but where can you buy a kennel? The traction engine won't be fit for use for some time, so we can't go to Cheapman's."

"Please, sir, I'd like to go to Animal's Novelty Shop," said Brass.

"Animal's Novelty Shop?" said Uncle. "I have never heard of it!"

"It's rather a long walk, right round the other side of Homeward. I went exploring while you were at Badgertown."

"You were supposed to be sitting still while your wounds recovered," said Uncle.

"But I just can't sit still for long, sir," said Brass. "Can we go, sir? I'll show you the way."

"We'll go tomorrow," said Uncle, "and spend the following day cleaning the traction engine. We mustn't desert our good friend Cowgill."

Everybody was delighted, for the thought of another day of wearisome scraping had been depressing.

Next morning they set out, with the Old Monkey, Goodman, Lucy and the One-Armed Badger.

It is always delightful to walk along by the edge of the moat, for the fishes which swim among the water-lilies are mostly large and pink, and the water itself is clear and blue, tumbling freshly from the mouths of great stone faces carved in the walls of Homeward. There were delightful views of distant towers, joined together by gleaming switchback railways.

Brass, to whom it was all new, kept running back to Uncle to ask questions. Why were there flags on one tower? Who kept the switchbacks running? Why was one tower covered with roses? Why was there a lighthouse on one?

"I know so little about this great house of mine, but I can answer your last question, my friend," said Uncle. "Captain Walrus, a tough old sea dog, lives in the lighthouse."

"Is he really a dog?" Brass let out an excited bark which made everybody wince. "Can I see him?"

"You will meet him, no doubt," said Uncle, "but he is a man, not a dog."

After about a mile of easy walking they came to a large green door which had a notice on it:

ENTRANCE TO ANIMAL'S NOVELTY SHOP

To get in, place a penny in letter-box.

This will be deducted from the price of your first purchase.

Mr Animal has been compelled to charge for entrance

because so many animals come with no money

and go to sleep in the shop, thus keeping others out.

"A pretty smart dodge," said Uncle. "He makes sure everybody will buy something."

They walked down a long passage until they came to a broad sheet of water and another notice.

Put penny in box to get over.

Don't try jumping stream. You won't do it.

"Won't I?" said Uncle, very much annoyed.

He gave the rest one penny each to put in the box--except Lucy, who just flew over. Then he went back into the passage for a run. With one magnificent leap he was over the stretch of water and perfectly dry.

A thin brown-faced man who looked rather like a wolf clapped loudly as he landed, and bunt into a peal of hoarse laughter.

"Well done!" he cried. "A better jump I never saw! I'll let you off the penny for the raft."

"What raft?" asked Uncle, and then saw that the rest of his party were being paddled across the stream on a small raft. "You certainly do not make it easy to get into your shop."

"That's true, but on the other hand you'll like it when you do get in. You see, I've got a strange name. It's 'Animal'. Well, I thought I'd use it. I'd have a shop full of things for animals. These premises were vacant, so I took them."

"I don't remember seeing your name on my list of tenants," said Uncle sternly.

"I've got the rent saved up, but I've never been able to get round to Homeward. I'll give it you."

"We'll discuss the matter before we leave," said Uncle, "and if I think your shop is good, the rent will be low."

There were a lot of interesting things in the shop, all well set out. Brass found a good kennel made of yellow wood and with a thick red mat inside it. It was only sixty pence too. Uncle helped Brass to count out the money.

"I've still got a lot left," he said, "but a kennel is all I want. I'll just sit in it till you're ready."

Lucy was much taken by a golden-coloured parrot cage with bits of pink and green glass set in the sides. It was very cheap, for birds don't like buying cages, and Mr Animal had had it in stock for some time. But Lucy had a brilliant idea.

It was just the thing she wanted for a storeroom. Her own little cubby hole up in the roof was getting pretty full, and she asked Uncle if he would mind her fastening this cage up to one of the great beams in the hall.

"You see, birds don't mind cages as long as the door is always open," she said. "I would enjoy swinging on that perch and looking down at all that was happening."

"Good idea," said Uncle, "and we will be able to see where you are when we want you."

Goodman was a bit disappointed, at first, because he couldn't find any kind of storehouse for his writing-pads, pens and detective novels, but Mr Animal heard the others calling him Goodman and brought him a wooden box with a carved lid.

"What about this?" he said. "It was given by a lady, long ago, to her husband for his slippers. In those days the husband used to be called the goodman of the house, you know."

Goodman crouched over the box in a state of feverish excitement and read out the carved inscription.

" 'For the Goodman,' it says. sir. The box has my name on it. Nobody else has got a box with his name on it! See, there it is, G-o-o-d-m-a-n."

"Endeavour not to boast about it too much, Goodman," said Uncle, "and then we can all be pleased you have it."

Now that the most important purchases had been made they had time to look round the rest of the shop.

There were a lot of claw brushes for wolves, which Mr Animal said were very popular, and boxes of wool combs for sheep. Uncle greatly liked the honey bowls for bears, rather dear but each had a name on it: Bruin, Brunette, Bearie. One very pretty little yellow bowl had this poem on it:

Little bear

Take care

Eat no more

Than your share.

"Mother bears are very proud of their cubs and don't mind paying a bit," said Mr Animal.

Uncle bought two giraffes' feeding posts in case his friends Glenmore and Gloria Giraffe came to tea again. Last time they came their high shelf had needed quite a bit of fixing. He also bought some Pocket Note Books for Elephants. They were well bound in strong red leather and were about a foot long.

They were pretty dear because hardly any elephants came to the store, but Uncle bought up the whole stock. He was really glad to have them. He also bought two pairs of boxing-gloves for Cloutman and Gubbins.

The Old Monkey could not see anything much that he wanted, for in his bedroom he has many treasures, including a number of cameras and gramophones and even a typewriter. But suddenly his eye was caught by a rather tarnished silver bowl. He picked it up, trembling, for it looked familiar. It badly wanted cleaning, but he could make out the inscription all right:

To my faithful friend

From Uncle.

He ran with it to Uncle.

"Oh, sir, look at this! It's my precious, precious bowl that you gave me years ago! How I've missed it! I never thought I'd see it again! I didn't like to tell you I'd lost it in case you thought I had been careless!"

And he burst into tears.

"Where did you get this?" Uncle asked Mr Animal.

"Well, I do buy good secondhand things," said Mr Animal.

"This was brought in by a rather sharp-nosed little fellow with a lot of untidy hair and skewers in his belt."

"Hitmouse!" hissed Goodman.

At the sound of the name, Brass, who had been dozing a little in his comfortable kennel, leapt up and dashed round the shop barking. When the noise had died down and all the things Brass knocked over had been put back in place, Uncle said to Mr Animal:

"I'm sorry to find you are a receiver of stolen goods."

"I'm sorry, too," said Mr Animal, "but this Hitmouse said the bowl had been give to him by the owner of Homeward for services rendered. He was selling it because he couldn't afford to keep it."

"Strange," said Uncle, "we can't even come into a quiet place like this without finding some obnoxious trace of the Badfort Crowd."

However he bought the bowl back and the Old Monkey cheered up. Then Uncle looked round for the One-Armed Badger, who as usual had not bought anything for himself, but a lot of little half-penny presents for other people. Uncle bought him a blue-and-gold china mug, and insisted he must keep it for himself.

The One-Armed Badger was laying out a good picnic lunch by the side of the stretch of water. Uncle was glad about this as he was feeling hungry, but didn't much like the look of Animal's cafe, where a wolf was actually lying on one of the tables gnawing a bone. Bad manners, Uncle thought.

Uncle invited Mr Animal to join them for lunch, but he said he still had a number of customers in the shop. He brought a bag of rent money to Uncle, and Uncle not only returned it to him but gave him a bunch of bananas and a bag of Seaweed Slashers, a very good nourishing biscuit that tastes slightly of iodine.

"We have had an enjoyable morning in your shop, Mr Animal," said Uncle, "and I am pleased that you were not like so many of my tenants, trying to live here rent-free, but have been saving up to pay what you owed. I suggest that from now on you pay a modest rent of one pound a year, and inform me when you have any new lines."

Mr Animal promised to do this, and they parted the greatest of friends.

It was rather a struggle getting all their purchases back across the water and through the long tunnel, and they were not looking forward to the walk home at all with a dog kennel and the giraffe's feeding posts--to say nothing of the dozens of smaller parcels they had to carry.

"I think we'll have to leave them here and get Cowgill to fetch them," said Uncle.

"But somebody might steal my beautiful kennel," cried Brass. "I'll have to stay to guard it."

"No, I won't allow it. You will be certain to get attacked again, Brass," said Uncle.

Just when they were wondering what to do there was a sound of cheerfully jingling harness in the distance.

"Oh, sir, it's the Respectable Horses!" cried the Old Monkey.

"Ah, those admirable ladies have a way of turning up just when they are wanted," said Uncle.

The three Respectable Horses, Anna, Ann and Annette Crunch, who always look neat in their shining black coats with a patch of white at the neck, came trotting along the wide path by the moat, pulling their beautifully clean and roomy carriage behind them. The Respectable Horses are never driven; of course. They just place themselves between the shafts of their carriage and start off.

"Good afternoon, sir," said Miss Anna, the eldest, "we heard you were about in this area and guessed that with your generous nature you might find it somewhat wearisome to walk home carrying your purchases."

"You are most welcome, ladies," said Uncle. "Our new friend Brass here has bought a kennel and it is surprisingly heavy."

"How do you do, Brass," said Miss Anna, graciously. "My sisters and I have long thought you could do with a good dog, sir."

"Well, now I have one," said Uncle. "His bark is too loud, but otherwise I am very pleased with him."

Brass looked delighted, and made a good impression on the Respectable Horses by asking if he could run home underneath the carriage. He had heard that his great-grandfather was a carriage dog, and was interested to see what it was like.

So they packed everything into the roomy carriage and enjoyed a delightful drive home. Uncle asked the Respectable Horses to stay for the special engagement tea for Alonzo S. Whitebeard and Iama Goldsack. They gladly accepted, although they do not like cake much.

However, the Old Monkey told them that there would also be a large dish of Sandstorm Snaps, a biscuit made of corn mash, of which they are very fond.

Mig's cake was so big that it had to be cut with an axe, and Uncle asked Whitebeard to cut it. In this way he thought it almost impossible for Whitebeard and Iama Goldsack to disgrace themselves on this special occasion by trying to pocket extra slices.

As they were guests of honour they would have to serve everybody else before themselves, and keep enough in case anybody wanted a second slice. Almost everybody did.

"Now we wish you both health and happiness," said Uncle. "I won't say wealth, for that is not important."

Whitebeard took a deep breath and just managed not to contradict Uncle, so all was well.

SEVEN

Whitebeard's Woe

It was only about a week later when Uncle saw, one afternoon, a familiar figure crossing the moat bridge. It was Whitebeard. He looked thoroughly dejected, and came slowly up to Uncle who was sitting on the terrace.

"Welcome, Whitebeard," said Uncle. "We have all been wondering how you and your wife have been getting on. Sit down and have a banana."

Whitebeard tried to smile, and refused the banana, which was surprising.

"I'm in big trouble, sir," he said at last.

"I hope that Hateman hasn't found out about that barrel of money you have in your cellar," said Uncle. "You told me of its existence once yourself, so it's no good pretending you haven't got it."

"Sh-ush! Please, sir, do keep your voice down!" Whitebeard pleaded, gazing fearfully at the moat. Hitmouse was well known to spy by swimming under water and crouching under a patch of water-lilies near the bank.

"Well, has he?" asked Uncle. "I can see you are worried."

"Oh, it's not Hateman this time. He's still got the Badgertown Police at Badfort. No, the trouble is in my own house."

"Say just what is on your mind." Uncle settled down to listen patiently. He has always had a warm feeling for Whitebeard, in spite of his avarice. He never forgot how Whitebeard had rushed up with a barrowload of stone clubs when Hateman was pressing him hard.

"Iama looked very nice at our wedding, I will say that. I congratulated her on her blue dress," said Whitebeard, sighing.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Uncle.

"It was very expensive-looking, but I thought, of course, that she had bought it herself, and it was only for once."

"I understand it matters a great deal to ladies what sort of a dress they have for their wedding," said Uncle.

"But would you believe it, sir, a day or so ago I had a bill from Cheapman's for it!"

"Well, well!" Uncle couldn't help smiling.

" 'One Wedding Dress for Mrs Whitebeard, The shock! Imagine it. Iama came in and found me holding my head and groaning. 'What's the matter, Lonnie?' she said. That's what she calls me, you see. I showed her the bill and said, 'What's this?' And she said, 'I thought you'd like to pay for my dress as you didn't have to buy me a ring.' "

"Well," said Uncle, "you can't honestly say the woman has made many demands on you."

"You wait, sir. There's worse to come. You remember the pigs on my farm?"

Whitebeard's pigs are lean and wild and a danger to visitors because they are hungry.

"I do indeed. If those unfortunate pigs could eat out as often as you do, Whitebeard," said Uncle, looking him straight in the eye, "they would put on weight steadily. As it is, they are much too thin."

"I'm sorry you think that, sir." Whitebeard did look slightly ashamed. "Well, if you saw them today you'd say they were overfed. Positively bloated."

"How is that?" asked Uncle.

"Iama, sir. She gave them a whole sack of grain. Just dragged it out of the shed and gave it to them. When I saw it I nearly fainted! And it isn't just food for the pigs, sir. Yesterday I set out the rations for our midday meal. Two slices of bread, two glasses of good sparkling water, and two lemon biscuits for a treat.

I was working in the farmyard and she looked out and said, 'Thank you for putting out the mid-morning snack, Lonnie. Come and get it.' I shuddered. What sort of a woman had I married? I told her that was our main meal for the day, and quite enough too. And she said she had a large joint of meat roasting and potatoes to go with it, and as I hadn't given her any money yet, I could pay for it when the butcher brought the next joint.

The next joint ! I nearly fainted again, and she said she hoped I'd eat my share, for if I didn't she'd be most likely to eat the lot, and that would be greedy. She is rather a heavy eater, sir. What shall I do? I can't afford joints of meat and sacks of grain!"

"Oh, yes you can, Whitebeard," said Uncle. "You've been a miser from your youth up. You can afford anything."

"She'll ruin me, sir."

Whitebeard wiped his eyes with a handkerchief that was clean for once. His shirt also was much cleaner than usual. This Uncle thought an improvement.

"If you want my advice, Whitebeard, you'll give your wife a housekeeping allowance and let her spend it as she likes."

"As she likes?" Whitebeard's voice was a faint, horrified squeak.

"A generous one--"

"A generous one?"

"Certainly. That's what I do with the Old Monkey, and it works very well. Now get back to your wife and ask her if she'll come up with you for tea and a game of spigots this afternoon. I would like to congratulate her on your improved appearance."

Whitebeard tottered away. He felt reluctant to follow Uncle's advice, and yet that was what he had asked for--advice.

Joints arriving! Blue dresses! And he could have sworn she was as careful as himself.

Iama came out to meet him when he got inside his own gate. The pigs were sleeping heavily under the hedge, stuffed full of expensive grain.

"Hello, Lonnie," she said cheerfully, "I've been up to Badgertown."

"Badgertown! You shouldn't have done that!" said Whitebeard fearfully.

"Oh, I just popped up to Cheapman's. The police got me quite safely past Badfort."

"What did you go for?"

"For one thing, I bought myself a bargain hat--"

"A hat!" Whitebeard gasped.

"And a pair of shoes--"

"Shoes!" moaned Whitebeard.

"You see I've never had anybody to dress for up till now, so I don't mind spending a bit. It's such fun!"

"Fun!" Whitebeard shuddered and stumbled on the path.

"But those are just little things. The big thing was for you."

"For me? But I don't want anything! I've never bought anything--new!" shrieked Whitebeard.

"I'm sure you're right to be careful, Lonnie. I'm most careful myself, as you know. But you've got me to think of now, and I want you to look a credit to me among that smart crowd at Homeward. So I've bought you a new suit as a wedding present. Come and try it on!"

Luckily, Whitebeard had one of Gleamhound's Faintness Producers for Enemies in his pocket, and he hastily swallowed it as he followed her into the house.

EIGHT

The Closed Gallery

The day after they finished cleaning the traction engine, Will Shudder came out of the library wheeling the Complete Guide to Homeward on a trolley. "Have you heard of Montague Tower, sir?" he asked. Uncle said that he hadn't.

"It has a museum in it, and Septimus Brigg, the curator, is on your wage list." "Is he, indeed?"

"And I know you are fond of ancient relics, sir." "I am just fairly fond of ancient relics, Shudder," said Uncle, "but if I have a museum on my property I ought to know about it. What else does the Guide say?" Will Shudder put on his glasses.

"The way there," he read, "is not easy to find whatever route you choose--"

"Sounds ominous," said Uncle, as Will Shudder continued:

"First route. Leave Homeward by back door, turn left, keeping iron pillars on your right. Climb staircase and continue up till window overlooking moat is reached.

Continue left along passage until zinc bath is reached. Lift this, and you will find a handle.

Pull this. When dust has cleared you will find a door opens in wall where further instructions await you.

Second Route. Leave Homeward by back door and Montague Tower is before you."

"We'll take the second route," said Uncle. "I want a day clear of twists and turns, if that is possible."

Uncle took only the One-Armed Badger and the Old Monkey on this trip. Brass, Lucy and Goodman were all busy arranging their possessions in their new storehouses. They had had no time to do this before because they had been helping to clean the traction engine. So they stayed at home and promised to keep a good look-out for unwelcome visitors.

Uncle soon got to the door marked Montague Tower. Leading to the door which stood open was a short flight of steps with a framed notice on the wall beside it:

Enter this abode of joy

And nothing shall your hearts annoy.

It looked pretty promising, but Uncle did not feel too satisfied. The passage beyond the steps was long and completely empty. There was a window at the end, and they made for it. When they got there they found another short flight of steps, and then another passage leading back, it seemed, the way they had come.

"We are higher up," the Old Monkey pointed out.

"That is so, but at this rate progress will be slow," said Uncle. "And here's another verse. Let's hope it's better than the last."

The Old Monkey read out the verses as Uncle had once more left his glasses at home.

Oh, what bliss to walk along

This cheerful passage with a song.

"The place is so unutterably dull," said Uncle, "that I don't feel like singing."

The passage was exactly like the other two. It ended with a window, a short flight of steps and a notice.

So smooth the road, so glad the way, Each step you take makes you more gay.

"It does not," said Uncle. "I'm getting sick of this place. Plod, plod, plod, with nothing to see. Let's help you with some of your parcels, One-Armed."

"Can carry to next stair," said the One-Armed, cheerfully, "and then perhaps get there."

The next flight of stairs showed one slight change. This notice had a design of painted doves round the words:

Our steps are light and feel like wings;

Each passage glorious wonder brings.

"That is not true," said Uncle. "We will stop for lunch here."

The One-Armed Badger soon set out quite a sumptuous little feast. He had brought some coconuts and plenty of Koolvat as well as a lot of sandwiches.

They were all feeling more cheerful when they heard slow steps coming along the corridor just above them.

"So there is actually someone in this dead hole," said Uncle.

Soon they saw an old man with a wooden leg at the top of the flight of steps. His face brightened when he saw the food, and he inched his way down the steps towards them. He lowered himself on to the bottom step with a sigh of relief, and Uncle handed him a sandwich and some Koolvat.

"You are the Master of Homeward," he said, "and I am honoured to meet you. My name's Oldeboy."

"Any relation to the young man who guards my treasury?" asked Uncle.

"He's my son," said Oldeboy. "I'm Oldeboy. He's young Oldeboy. He's got a good job with you, sir. There he is in that warm sentry-box with a flame-thrower on the top. Wants for nothing. There's only one thing wrong with that lad of mine."

"I know what you're going to say," said Uncle.

"Yes, he has this passion for wanting to look old."

"Perhaps he'll grow out of it," said Uncle. "Meanwhile what are you doing in this dreary passage?"

"I'm doing what you're doing, sir," said Oldeboy, "trying to find my way to this museum. I've climbed several more flights, but I've had to give up. Another flight, another notice, I couldn't bear. And yet I'd like to see this museum."

"We understand," said Uncle sympathetically. "Now I tell you what we'll do. You stay here and help the One-Armed to pack up the lunch things, and the Old Monkey and I will press on and come back and tell you about it."

Oldeboy and the One-Armed Badger gladly agreed, and Uncle and the Old Monkey walked along a number more passages and up a number more stairs, hardly bothering to read the fulsome verses. They were quite sick of them.

However, at last they came to one which said:

Now at last we near the top

Take heed or joy may make you drop.

This time there really was a change. Instead of another window, another flight of stairs, and another inscription, there was cool fresh air blowing towards them, and they came to a platform on top of the tower. There was a battlement before them, and a small square open space with three stone steps leading to the top of the battlement.

"Well, we've got here," said Uncle, "and a poorer show I've never seen."

"There's one more notice, sir," said the Old Monkey, "by those three steps."

"Read it out," said Uncle, irritably.

"If you find it hard to reach the ground Go to top step and take a bound."

Uncle looked over the battlements. There was, indeed, nothing between them and the ground, far, far below.

"That is what I call a beastly, bitter verse," said Uncle.

"It's a good view," said the Old Monkey. "Look, sir, there's the Blowpipe Laundry, with all the white washing!"

"Indeed, yes, my friend," said Uncle, "and there is Lion Tower. And how blue the moat is. Mine is indeed a vast domain, and the responsibilities are great." Uncle sighed heavily. "And now let's get back."

The walk down was slightly less wearisome than the walk up, but all the same they were bored and tired by the time they reached the two dozing figures with the picnic pack between them.

"A good view at the top, and nothing else," said Uncle. "So let's start for home."

"But it says 'museum' on the map!" said Oldeboy.

"The mystery will be solved," said Uncle, "but for the moment let's get out of here."

When, at last, they got to the entrance hall, plain, square and absolutely empty, Oldeboy limped to the top of the final steps and waved his walking-stick despairingly.

"All that everlasting walk and nothing to show for it!" he said.

Uncle finally lost his temper.

"There must be something somewhere!" he said, and gave a heavy kick at the wall by which he stood.

At once the side-wall, which must have been hinged in a secret place, quietly opened, and they were looking into a vast chamber.

Right in front of them was a huge circular table, and, sitting at it, a thin dark man, wearing two pairs of horn-rimmed glasses. He was eating watercress sandwiches and reading the Badfort News.

He did not seem particularly surprised to see them, but said:

"Just close the wall after you, please, and join me in a mug of banana fizz."

There were a number of large chairs set round the table, and the banana fizz was refreshing. Oldeboy, particularly, seemed to relish it, and had three mugs full to the brim.

"I suppose you are the curator, Mr Septimus Brigg," said Uncle to their host.

"Yes, indeed, and I have been expecting a visit from you for some time. I feel the museum suffers from lack of publicity."

"Can you wonder!" said Uncle. "It's the most maddening, baffling place I've ever struck."

"Like the Art Gallery at Crack House, which you opened up, we are in need of a benefactor. As you own the place you might as well be it."

Uncle did not altogether like Brigg's crude way of making this suggestion, but on the other hand it was clear that something had to be done.

"Where is the museum and what does it contain?" he asked, for there were no ancient relics in the room where they sat.

"We have a very good collection," said Septimus Brigg. "Each floor on the west side is devoted to different objects, but each floor has only one object, if you see what I mean."

"No, I don't," said Uncle. "My patience is not inexhaustible, you know."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," said Septimus Brigg. "Let me put things simply. On the first floor we have nothing but treacle bowls through the ages; on the second a collection of Flemish cooking stoves, all the same size; on the third, nothing but flamingo bird-baths.

I assure you that the collection is unique. Would you like to start with the treacle bowls? There's a staircase in the corner there."

"No, thank you," said Uncle hastily. "We must get home, and I thank you for your hospitality. One thing I must mention before leaving, I'm sorry to see your reading matter is, for a man of your education, of such low standard."

Uncle pointed sternly at the Badfort News.

"Well, it's given away free so often, and keeps one up-to-date about doings in the outside world."

"I hope," Uncle thundered, "that you do not believe what is printed in that scurrilous rag! Why don't you take a decent paper?"

"I hate to mention it, but my salary is extremely low, and I can't afford extras. For example, that flagon of banana fizz would, normally, have lasted me a week."

Uncle felt slightly ashamed, for they had drunk quite a lot. He handed Brigg five pounds.

Brigg folded the note up small and said:

"Thanks, I will find this very handy. And if you do open up the museum I would hope for an increase in salary. The work will be greatly increased."

"I'll think about it," said Uncle. "What a dull museum this is. There must be more exhibits than those you mention."

"There are, floors and floors of them, but how to get at them I've never been able to find out!"

"I'll put my detective A. B. Fox on it," Uncle promised. "Meanwhile try and keep that panel open. I wonder you can stand it here with nobody able to get in."

"Oh, I don't know!" said Brigg. "I get a lot of fun listening to

people starting up the stairs. Then, after a time, they come down groaning and complaining. Sometimes I laugh my head off."

"I don't think you should rejoice over the weariness and boredom of others!" said Uncle.

"It does keep me from being bored myself," said Brigg.

Uncle collected his party and left. He had had enough of Septimus Brigg and the baffling Closed Gallery for the time being.

NINE

Hateman's Show Trip

Next morning Uncle sent for his detective A. B. Fox, who charges twelve and a halfpence for any interview, however short, and twenty-five pence a day when he is working on a case, whether he finds out anything or not.

Uncle handed over the money for the consultation and explained about the Closed Gallery.

"I'll start at once," said Fox, putting on his dark glasses, "but don't expect any results for a day or two."

And he slid quietly out of the room.

"What's a detective?" asked Brass.

Nobody had time to explain to him, for at this moment the Old Monkey showed in Dr Augustus Lyre, the headmaster of the Select School for Young Gentlemen in Lion Tower. Uncle is chairman of his Board of Governors. Dr Lyre has written the History of Lion Tower, which has 11,567 pages, and Uncle is one of the few people who has actually bought a copy without having to. The boys have to buy a copy or they don't get through their exams.

"Well, Lyre," said Uncle, "you look agitated. Nothing wrong at the school, I hope?"

"No, no! Everybody caned regularly. But I wish I had more time to devote to my literary work."

"You have a very high salary as headmaster," said Uncle, "so you can't expect much free time."

"Oh, I realize that, but I felt I ought to warn you about this fellow Septimus Brigg of the Montague Tower Museum. I hear you have been drinking banana fizz with him."

"Is nothing private in this place!" said Uncle crossly. "Whom I drink banana fizz with is entirely my own business."

"I just hope you were not taken in by him. He calls himself a B.A., but he only got his degree at the Chipmunks Academy. Anybody can get one there by paying PS1. And he has the cool cheek to send me a list of 156 errors in my History of Lion Tower by this morning's post! He's got plenty of time for literary work!"

"Now calm down, Lyre, I shall ignore your somewhat crude allusion to the banana fizz, and offer you a drink of Koolvat."

While it was being poured out the Old Monkey said quietly to Uncle:

"Hateman is taking a party on a trip called 'Round the Castle of Homeward', sir. In a wagonette pulled by the Wooden-Legged Donkey."

Uncle sighed heavily. He felt the day had started badly.

"If it is an orderly trip I can't object to it," he said, "but I don't want any unseemly incidents. Follow the wagonette and report back to me."

So the Old Monkey, Goodman, Lucy and Brass followed the creaking wagonette full of goats, pigs and badgers. They hid behind bushes and trees as much as possible, and kept their ears open.

Hateman had a large badge on his sack suit with the words 'Your own Friendly Courier' printed on it. He was standing up at the front of the wagonette and talking through a megaphone made out of an old soup tin.

They didn't get on very fast. The Wooden-Legged Donkey, who was wearing a very old straw hat with his ears sticking through two holes, slowed down whenever he felt like it to snatch a mouthful of grass.

The first real stop was at the foot of the Blowpipe Laundry Tower. Hateman was yelling through the megaphone:

"Now you've seen something of the home of the Terrible Tyrant, Uncle. His evil deeds make a dark page in the history books-"

Brass started to growl.

"Sh-ush!" hissed Goodman.

"Down with the tyrant!" squeaked somebody in the wagonette.

"That's Hitmouse!" whispered the Old Monkey.

"Lift up your eyes, you poor downtrodden slaves. Look up at that gloomy tower with all the washing on the top!" shouted Hateman through his megaphone. "There's a laundry on the top of that tower run by a poor woman. Have you seen an elephant's sheet? It's like a tent! And there she is, worn and thin and weary, struggling with the tyrant's washing, and only paid a skinflint price for the job!"

The Old Monkey and Goodman had to hold Brass's collar, or he would have leapt at Hateman.

"The only valuable thing that poor woman possessed was a fierce dog who guarded her night and day. The tyrant decided he could do with a good watchdog. So he just took the dog! Took it from her--just like that!"

"Fly back, Lucy," whispered the Old Monkey, "and tell the master what's happening. We'll go on following."

"Next stop, Camels in Captivity!" shouted Hateman. "Get going, Woody!"

Very soon the wagonette was passing between Pink-Smoke Tower and Grey Tower. Here was the patch of camel thorn where Claudius the Camel and his forty-nine friends, who have chosen to live with Uncle and serve him, led a quiet happy life.

The wagonette stopped by the great archway, and all the trippers stared, open-mouthed, at the camels. Water gushed out of a great carved head in the wall, and splashed over the grey-green bushes. Altogether the scene could not have been more peaceful.

Claudius, who wore a small peaked cap woven out of camel's hair, looked up when he heard Hateman's voice. All the other camels looked up from their grazing too.

"Here's a sight to make your blood run cold!" yelled Hateman. "Here are some of the tyrant's most servile slaves. Stolen from an Eastern potentate, imprisoned, kept short of food, they long for their distant home. Weak and ill, how can they ever reach it? Friends, here is slavery being practised in our midst!"

The result of this vile speech was surprising.

"The silken tassel of our peace is broken!" said Claudius loudly. "Let us advance and destroy this caravan!"

"Hi! Get up--get going, Woody!" yelled Hateman.

A flood of camels poured out of the archway, and the Wooden-Legged Donkey ran for his life, the wagonette bumping and clattering behind him.

Claudius called off the pursuit when he saw the Old Monkey. "Shall we follow this insulter of the Great Sultan and trample him into the sand?" he asked.

The Old Monkey thanked Claudius and said that, unfortunately, that couldn't be done without hurting a number of simple pigs, goats and badgers who were in the wagonette.

"I'll be sure to tell the master about your loyal action when we get back to Homeward," he said.

"I see you have a new friend," said Claudius, looking at Brass. "I hope he bows the knee in gratitude to the Sultan." "He is a very good watchdog," said the Old Monkey. As they ran after the wagonette Brass asked the Old Monkey: "What is a sultan?"

"A sort of king," said the Old Monkey. "Claudius always talks like that because he comes from the East." The next stop was outside the Art Gallery near Crack House.

Here Hateman forced everybody in the wagonette to buy a badly printed postcard of the picture called 'Sunset over Badfort'. This was by J. Von Jellytussle, one of Hateman's most obnoxious friends.

When Hateman saw some of the trippers trying to get out of the wagonette, he stopped them:

"No need to go into the gallery. All the other pictures are rotten! This is the only decent one in it. Five pence from everybody--and I mean everybody, or you get out and walk home."

So the disgraceful trip went on. It included a visit to the Treacle Tower where once vast quantities of treacle had flooded into a tunnel. Uncle had had to rescue many people.

"Here's a place so horrible that I expect you all to turn grey as you look at it. Here the tyrant tried to drown innocent people in a sticky, stifling flood of treacle! What could be more cruel! As a final treat I am taking you past the front of Homeward itself --I call it Groanward--and there you will see the Top Tyrant, the Emperor of Coconut Cadgers himself!"

On hearing this, Uncle's friends ran quickly home to warn him.

"Please do stay indoors, sir," begged the Old Monkey.

"I will certainly not stay indoors!" said Uncle. "I am being slandered and I mean to defend myself!"

It wasn't long before they heard the squeaking of wheels, and the shambling trot of the Wooden-Legged Donkey. The wagonette stopped just by the bridge over the moat, and Hateman began his speech.

"Now we come to the highlight of the trip. Before you is the north-west front of the Castle of Groanward. The architecture is showy and cheap. You see that picture painted on the wall there. A false picture showing the tyrant doing noble deeds. And that fat sleeping slug lying in a barrow is supposed to be the tyrant's guardian. And now look at the great carved door. More showing off. The entrance to Groanward! Keep your eyes on it! Any minute now you'll see something! Yes, yes, I do believe it is the Coconut Cadger himself! See, the door's moving! It's opening! As I promised you--there He is--the Tyrant!"

One or two simple badgers, misunderstanding, cheered as Uncle came out in a slow, stately march. He looked magnificent in his purple dressing-gown and jewelled boots, his trunk moving slowly to and fro as it always does when he is angry.

Uncle looked down at the evil visitor and said in a terrible voice:

"What are you doing in front of my castle?"

"Raising an honest penny, as I've had all my goods taken by the Badgertown police!" yelled Hateman. "Any objection?"

"You are uttering vile untruths about me!" thundered Uncle. "Get off my land at once!"

"Oh dear, have I been saying something that is not true!" said Hateman in a mock-humble tone. "Let me try to put things right!"

Hateman picked up a bucket from the back of the wagonette, leaped out and filled it with water from the moat. He then snatched a few water-lilies, and stuck them in the bucket too.

"Three cheers for the opener of the Dwarfs' Drinking Fountains!" shouted a small stout badger.

This is one of Uncle's great deeds which is never forgotten.

A ragged cheer sounded from the group of trippers. It wasn't much of a cheer, but it enraged Hateman. He snarled, showing all his awful teeth, and his small eyes glittered with rage. Then he controlled himself and walked with the bucket to the foot of the steps.

"Just a small floral tribute!" he said, and flung the contents of the bucket with lightning quickness at Uncle.

"Ha, there's some of that good moat water you're always boasting about!" yelled Hateman.

For a moment Uncle was blinded, and in that moment Hateman leaped back towards the wagonette shouting, "Make for home, Woody." Brass, crouching behind Uncle, rushed at Hateman, and landed on his back biting him severely on the shoulder. The impact threw Hateman to the ground.

Hateman's yell was awful to hear, but he was up again in a second tearing after the wagonette.

Brass's action gave Uncle the time he needed.

He thundered down the steps.

Every now and again, and only when it is well-deserved, Uncle kicks his enemies up.

Now, in vain did Beaver Hateman dive towards the cover of a group of bushes. Uncle swung his foot. There was a thud, and the sack-suited body of Uncle's chief enemy rose up, up, up, into the blue sky.

"Oh, well done, sir!" shouted the Old Monkey.

Lucy flew round and round in excited circles, but everybody else, and that included the Wooden-Legged Donkey and all the animals on the wagonette, just stood and looked at the ascending body of Beaver Hateman.

"Gaby's Marsh," said Goodman. "He's coming down in Gaby's Marsh!"

Hateman sailed over the roof of Badfort and then began to descend. Soon the watchers saw a fountain of chocolate mud rise in the distance.

And then Brass, who had been silenced with wonder by the sight of Uncle's kick, started to bark and run after the wagonette again.

The noise was so fearful that a cloud of herons feeding by the stream rose and flew away, and some cows grazing quietly in a field ran for the shelter of the hedge.

Uncle called Brass off, and the wagonette disappeared over a slight rise of ground.

"Well done, my friend," Uncle said to Brass. "You have behaved splendidly. But you'd better not do any more barking now. I know you had to let off steam after witnessing such a disgraceful incident, but enough is enough, my friend."

Uncle and Brass went up to the great door of Homeward together.

TEN

Witch Pit

Wizard Blenkinsop came to see Uncle next day. He is an efficient wizard, but very vain. He doesn't like competition of any kind. His office is in Wizard Glen, which isn't really far from Homeward, but is difficult to get to, all the same.

You have to take a little railway which runs through several towers and get out at a station called Cake Loop.

"Well, Blenkinsop," said Uncle, "I haven't seen you for some time. How are things with you?"

"Very bad indeed," said Blenkinsop. He is a small man with strange cloudy eyes. He always wears old-fashioned breeches and stockings, and a blue coat embroidered with curious symbols.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Uncle. "What's the trouble?"

Goodman once worked for the wizard, and didn't want to meet him. So he had hidden under the table. Uncle could see him looking anxiously out of the shadows.

"My assistant Joey Beadle is an idle, slovenly, dirty rascal," said Wizard Blenkinsop.

"I seem to remember," said Uncle, severely, "that you once spoke about my friend Goodman in just those terms."

"Goodman wasn't really dishonest. Just very, very occasionally he helped himself to fish that wasn't strictly his. I never missed anything from my office. But Beadle--nothing is safe from him! You know I once took him on when he had been exposed as a fraud. You'd think he'd be grateful, but not a bit of it!"

Joey Beadle had once tried to run a false school for wizards, using the letters M.W.W.A., which stood for Member of World Wizard Association, after his name.

"I hope you pay him good wages?" said Uncle.

"Excellent! The highest allowed by the World Wizard Association. No, he's shiftless, silly and dishonest! Why, he even has the cheek to pretend he's me when I'm out!"

"Was it Beadle you came to see me about?"

"No. He's only one of my troubles. A witch has come to live at the top of Wizard Glen, in a little house with a large pit outside it. A place that has been empty for a long time."

"Well, everybody has to face competition in business," said Uncle. "Even wizards."

"Oh, I agree, sir, but I do like to know what I'm up against. She has a great number of visitors, while my trade recently has shrunk to nothing. I don't like to go and see her myself. Could you go and bring me an account of just what branch of wizard-work she specializes in? It would be a great help."

"I'd like to oblige you," said Uncle. "You have often been a help to me in the past."

"Oh, thank you, sir! You wouldn't have far to walk. Witch Pit is quite close to Cake Loop Station."

"Very well," said Uncle, "I'll try and fit in a visit this afternoon."

"I know you will give me a fair account," said Blenkinsop. "Just ring me when you've been. You've got my number, haven't you? Wizard Glen 8888. Where's Goodman, by the way?"

Uncle saw that Goodman was still trying to make himself invisible under the table, so he said cheerfully:

"Oh, he's around somewhere."

"No chance of your letting me have him back, is there?"

"None at all," said Uncle. "He is now a most valuable member of my staff."

"Pity," said Blenkinsop. "He's so much better than Beadle. I see you've got a dog. I don't like dogs myself. They bounce about and upset valuable liquids when they are just coming to the boil. Dogs are quite fatal to wizard work."

"A good thing you haven't got one, then," said Uncle.

After Blenkinsop had gone, Goodman came out from under the table, purring.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "Thanks very much."

Uncle smiled.

"I gather you won't want to go on the trip to Witch Pit?"

"No, I'd really rather not," said Goodman hastily, "that is, if you don't mind, sir."

"I think a very small party would be best," said Uncle, "so as not to make the witch feel uneasy. Just the Old Monkey and the One-Armed."

"And me, please, sir," said Brass. "I've never seen a witch."

"Neither have I," said Uncle. "If you do come, Brass, there must be no barking. A witch might have a way of stopping you which you wouldn't like."

"If you've got any sense you'll stay at home," said Goodman, shivering. "I've worked for a wizard. They can do some pretty powerful spells."

Brass still said he would like to go. He felt sure Uncle would protect him.

"Keep an eye on Badfort while we're away," said Uncle. "I see the Badgertown troops are back from manoeuvres, and are doing some exercises near Badfort. I'd like to know what they're up to."

"Goodman and I will find out," said Lucy.

So Uncle's party set out. The little underground railway through the towers whizzed along, and they were soon at Cake Loop.

Nobody was on the platform except a donkey who was chewing a large carrot. He continued to do this even after Uncle had asked the way to the Witch Pit.

"Just down the road there," he said, making loud crunching noises, "but it's no good going. She only gives medicines to small animals, never to elephants."

Uncle took no notice of this ignorant remark, and they marched straight on down a rather desolate side-road edged with a lot of harsh-looking rocks.

"Just the sort of place where a witch would live!" said the Old Monkey, shivering.

"Courage, my friend," said Uncle. "I will see to it no spells are cast on you."

"Thank you, sir," said the Old Monkey.

They soon came to the house. It had small windows with curved eaves over them that looked like lifted eyebrows. The door was open, and there was a paved space in front of it. The general look of the place was quite pleasant, until they came nearer. Then they saw that the approach to it was rather alarming.

There was a very deep pit between them and the house. It was about twenty feet long and twelve feet across, and as they looked into it they saw that it had highly polished stone sides which went a long way down. They stared down at the polished emptiness. Far, far below there was a glint of water, but there seemed to be no bucket or chain. At first there seemed to be no way of getting to the house, then they saw that along one edge of the pit was a very narrow path with no handrail.

The One-Armed Badger said he would go over first but he had to put his pack down before he could patter over.

The Old Monkey is used to heights and ran across easily enough with Brass, but for Uncle it was a difficult matter. His feet were really too big for the narrow path. At one moment, when he swayed towards the pit, he was glad to coil his trunk round a small tree which grew just beyond the wall to steady himself.

The words MRS WITCH were printed on a neat name-plate by the door, and a kind-looking fat woman came to greet them. She wore a tall black hat, and carried one of those brooms made out of twigs. In some ways she did look like a witch, but the Old Monkey felt nobody with such a nice smile would do cruel spells.

There were one or two cats about who hissed at the sight of Brass, and on a blanket by a wood fire was lying a calf who didn't look very well.

"Good afternoon, sir," said Mrs Witch. "I know you are the owner of the Castle of Homeward, and I have heard much about your good deeds, so I am glad to meet you and your friends. Mostly my visitors, like this calf here, are not well, and need one or another of my herbal medicines, but you look well, sir. I don't suppose you have come for medicine!"

"I am here, madam," said Uncle, "because you are a newcomer, and Wizard Blenkinsop further up Wizard Glen thought you were opening a rival establishment for witchcraft. He feels there is only room for one practising magician here."

Mrs Witch laughed.

"Oh, tell Wizard Blenkinsop to stop worrying!" she said. "I'm not a witch! Witch is just my husband's family name. I see you looking at my hat. It's the most useful hat I ever had. Being so tall it keeps the place free of spider webs. I can't work spells, you know."

"I must say I am relieved to hear what you say, madam," said Uncle, "but don't you find it very solitary in this house beyond the dangerous pit?"

"Oh no! I have Lily, you see. She brings me water, and does my shopping and so on."

There was no sign of anybody else in the room, but Mrs Witch went to the edge of the pit and called:

"Lily. Visitors!"

Uncle and his party were astonished by what they saw next. Up out of the dangerous pit came floating a little girl carrying a can of water. She just floated, lightly, easily, and came to rest by the door. They all stared, amazed. Mrs Witch seemed only to be a kind animal doctor, but she certainly had an unusual helper.

"There's your water, Mrs Witch," the little girl said in a silvery voice.

Lily had a lot of golden hair, very small hands and feet, and a happy smile. Brass just sat looking at her with his tongue hanging out. He was used to little girls, having lived for some time with Lucy Moonray, but there was something magical about this one.

"Well, Mrs Witch, I shall tell Wizard Blenkinsop that he has nothing to fear from you," said Uncle, "and that your main work is caring for sick animals. I'm glad to have the matter cleared up. One question, though. That pit is very dangerous. I nearly slipped into it. What would have happened if I had?"

"Oh, Lily would have looked after you," said Mrs Witch. "Wouldn't you, Lily?"

"Certainly," said Lily. "You wouldn't have been hurt, and I would have guided you out by the passage down by the underground stream. It comes out near Badgertown;"

The Old Monkey was astonished at how quickly the water from the well boiled in a kettle over a small fire, and he wished he knew how it was done. Mrs Witch made them a glass of herbal tea. It was a pleasant golden colour and tasted of hay.

As they were getting ready to go, the little girl Lily said to Uncle:

"Please could I come back with you and see your castle?"

"Certainly," said Uncle, "and stay as long as you like."

"Oh, no. I don't want to stay. I have to look after Mrs Witch," said Lily. "I'll be there as soon as you are."

So they said goodbye to Mrs Witch and her helper.

Uncle didn't feel like inching his way along that narrow path again, even though Lily had said he would come to no harm if he fell in. So he went back as far as he could and took a great leap across the slippery pit. This delighted his friends, and even the sick calf came to the door to look at the magnificent sight of Uncle flying through the air in his purple dressing-gown.

When they got to Homeward, Lily was already there, talking to Sleepy Sam, who for once was polite enough to get out of his barrow and stand up, bowing his head courteously towards the golden-haired little girl.

The Old Monkey and the One-Armed Badger went to get tea, and Lucy and Goodman came in from watching the troops outside Badfort. They were delighted and surprised to see a visitor. As they knew nothing of the way she floated about, Lucy expressed sorrow that Lily couldn't see her little jewel house up on the rafters.

"Oh, but I can," said Lily. "You show me where it is and I'll be there."

"You haven't any wings," said Lucy.

"No, but I can get to places," said Lily. "I don't know how, but I just can. Let's go and have a look at your treasures."

So Uncle and Brass and Goodman watched, astonished, as Lucy flew up to the rafters of the hall, and Lily just floated after her. Soon the happy sounds of Lucy's comments and Lily's answering voice came down to them as they sat by the fire.

"Strange," said Uncle, "very strange. And now I must ring up Wizard Blenkinsop."

"Mrs Witch says she is only an animal doctor," he told Blenkinsop, "but she has rather a strange helper."

He then told Blenkinsop about Lily's remarkable powers.

"Oh, levitation," said Blenkinsop. "People floating about. I don't mind that. It's not in my line of business."

He said he was relieved and delighted, and would send Mrs

Witch two bottles of scented hair-lotion. These had once been left with him by a grateful client who had been unable to pay his bill.

"It will be a little token of respect," he said, "and perhaps Mrs Witch could give one bottle to this little girl-helper you mention. I believe ladies like it."

When the Old Monkey called Lucy to tea, she came fluttering down without Lily.

"Where's the little girl?" asked Uncle, disappointed.

"She's gone," said Lucy. "She said she couldn't be away long in case somebody fell down the Witch Pit. Nobody could be hurt if she was there. That's what she said. So she just vanished. But she gave me a little feather brush. I've always wanted one."

Lucy held out a little key ring with a tiny brush fixed to it.

"The child is a complete mystery," said Uncle. "She is an enchanted person of some kind, but really willing to help people. I'm glad to have somebody about who does a straightforward bit of good for once."

"Please, sir," said Brass, "is she a sort of fairy? I don't know what fairies are like, but I thought she might be one."

"Perhaps you are right, Brass," said Uncle, "and now let's have tea and tell the others about our strange afternoon."

Before they got very far there was a knock at the door and Joey Beadle came staggering in with a heavy parcel. He was a tall, rather silly-looking man with large teeth, and he wore a ring with a flashing red light in it that Uncle thought cheap and showy.

"Oh, I'm exhausted, utterly exhausted!" he gasped. "Wizard Blenkinsop has sent you a dozen boxes of preserved fruits, sir, and says he is most grateful to you for relieving his mind about Mrs Witch. Could I join you at tea, d'you think? It might make me feel stronger for the walk back."

Joey Beadle ate an enormous number of sandwiches and Seaweed Slashers. Even Brass looked at him in astonishment as he emptied plate after plate.

The Old Monkey took the parcel to the kitchen and unpacked it. The biggest box at the bottom of the pile was heavier than the others, and made a rattling sound when it was lifted. When he opened it he found that it was full of pebbles. He quietly asked Uncle to come out of the hall for a moment.

"So," said Uncle, "this is an example of the behaviour Blenkinsop was complaining about. Beadle has eaten the contents of the biggest box on the way here."

"Why not give it back to him, sir," said the Old Monkey, just as it is!

"A good notion, my friend," said Uncle.

So when Beadle was ready to leave, Uncle took the box and handed it to him.

"The parcel must have been heavy to carry all the way from Wizard Glen. Munch these as you walk home."

Joey Beadle smiled nervously and twisted his hands together. The red stone gleamed like a traffic light.

"No, no," he said, "it was a pleasure, a great pleasure."

"I insist," said Uncle.

They all went to see Joey Beadle off, and heard in the darkness a faint splash from the direction of the moat bridge.

"There goes the box of pebbles!" said the Old Monkey, smiling.

And they all returned to the fire and ate some of the preserved fruits, which were simply delicious.

ELEVEN

Second Visit to the Closed Gallery

A day or so later, A. B. Fox came to see Uncle, and said he had made several discoveries on Montague Tower.

"What are they?" asked Uncle.

"I have discovered an easy way to the top of the tower, and an easy way to the bottom."

"I hope a lot easier than those everlasting steps and corridors," said Uncle.

"Come and see," said Fox.

Uncle paid him twelve and a half pence for a consultation. Then they got ready for an afternoon expedition to Montague Tower.

"How are things at Badfort?" Uncle asked A. B. Fox. "Are they likely to make an attack of any kind?"

"They are very busy making a gun emplacement," said Fox. "Hateman has got a small cannon from somewhere."

"A small cannon, eh?" said Uncle. "What sort of range has it got?"

"I shouldn't think they could damage Homeward with it," said Fox, "though no doubt they will try. I think their main idea is to repel the Badgertown Police when they try to get into Badfort. The police have drained all the Black Tom out of the underground tank, but they're still trying to take goods away as the rates remain unpaid."

"A sordid business," said Uncle. "My poor friend the King of the Badgers! He has almost as much trouble with the Badfort Crowd as I do. Meanwhile it looks as if the miscreants are fully occupied, and we can safely set out."

When they got to the entrance hall of Montague Tower Mr Oldeboy was there, leaning on his stick.

"Well, Mr Oldeboy, I am surprised to see you," said Uncle. "I thought you had had enough of this baffling place."

"But I still don't know what's in it," said Oldeboy, tapping his stick impatiently, "and I can't rest till I do. You said you were determined to open up that Closed Gallery and I've been here every day waiting for you to do it."

"At last your patience is rewarded," said Uncle, and introduced A. B. Fox to him. "My detective has been working on the mystery, and has solved it."

"No climbing?" said Oldeboy.

"No," said Fox, "unless you wish to."

"Then I'm with you," said Oldeboy, and limped before them into the hall.

This time the wall slid aside with the gentlest push from Uncle, and they marched into the ground-floor room of the museum.

Septimus Brigg was at the same table, with a jug of banana fizz and a plateful of jellied haddock before him.

Uncle had asked Will Shudder to give him a small rise in salary, and the effects of this were seen in his dress. He wore a new brown plush overcoat and yellow boots. Also he was not reading the Badfort News, but using his copy as a tablecloth.

Uncle noted these signs of progress with satisfaction.

"That detective of yours is a smart walloper, sir," said Brigg to Uncle. "He's found out a number of things which will make the place more interesting. I'm sorry I can't ask you all to lunch with me, but I only have one portion of jellied haddock. Please have a mug of banana fizz if you feel like it."

Mr Oldeboy had two mugfuls, but everybody else said no. Brigg hastily finished off his jellied haddock while they waited.

"Now, you see this door in the corner labelled 'Coal Cellar'," said A. B. Fox. "Mr Brigg said he had never been into the coal cellar."

"Well, I don't need any coal," said Brigg. "The tower seems to be quite warm, and in any case there aren't any fireplaces."

"I must say it is a little unenterprising of you, Brigg," said Uncle.

"I do not pretend to be enterprising," said Septimus Brigg. "I am paid to guard precious relics of the past, and that is what I do."

Uncle did not often agree with Dr Lyre, but he began to feel that there might be something in Dr Lyre's statement that Septimus Brigg was lazy.

They all followed A. B. Fox down a flight of stone steps and into a neat cellar, which was empty except for a number of sacks of coal piled up in one comer.

"I've moved those," said Fox. "Somebody had piled them up in front of the entrance to the lift."

"Lift?" said Uncle.

"Yes," said Fox, "there is a good lift right to the top of the tower."

"Well, how could I be expected to find that!" said Brigg. "Coal in a coal cellar, right, that's natural, but a lift serving twenty-four storeys hidden behind sacks of coal, that's unnatural!"

Uncle ignored Brigg. He was an irritating man.

"Read out what is on that somewhat grimy board, Fox," he said.

" 'Lift to top of tower. Press button for each floor. Only first, second and third floors can be reached by staircase.' "

"Yes, that's the staircase in the corner of my room," said Brigg, "the one you declined to use on your last visit, leading to the treacle bowls and flamingo bird-baths."

"Please do not interrupt, Brigg," said Uncle. "If we are to understand these instructions we must at least listen to them. Continue, Fox."

" 'Press red button in roof of lift when 24th floor is reached for final lift to balcony.' "

"Have you tried this lift, Fox?" asked Uncle.

"I've been up to the top and down again," said Fox, "but I haven't visited any of the museum floors."

"Well, let's try one or two," said Uncle, "and see if the place looks interesting enough to open to the public."

"Excuse my correcting you, sir," said Brigg. "It is already open to the public."

"It is not," said Uncle crossly. "Nothing as difficult to get into is open to anybody. We are endeavouring to correct this."

"I liked the quiet!" said Brigg sadly.

The lift took them smoothly up to the fourth floor and they all got out.

On this floor everything was well set out, and there was only one of each thing. One wizard's dressing-gown, one metal crusher for hard pies, one toffee candlestick, one Chinese rattle, one donkey's tooth mounted in silver, one thumb jug, one tin of burglar's tooth-paste, and so on.

They went to the next floor and here too there was only one of everything, but everything was bigger. On this floor they saw, one elk-skinner, one antique lawnmower, one tooth-drawing machine, one 18lb tin of glue, one giant tin of lion-stew, and so on, and on. "That is enough for today," said Uncle. "I feel somewhat weary at the thought of all those floors above still to be examined."

"But a lot of people will like it, sir," said the Old Monkey. "They can come again and again, and still not see everything."

"True," said Uncle.

"I shall spend a full week," said Mr Oldeboy, "going from floor to floor."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Uncle. "I feel encouraged and will open the place up as soon as possible. Meanwhile let us press that red button and get to the top."

"That is where you will find my most interesting discovery," said Fox. Lucy, who had flown up to the top of the tower, greeted them with a joyous screech. "This is better than a stuffy old museum!" she said. "You all look quite pale!" "You have chosen a bad moment for boasting, Lucy," said Uncle. "We are all suffering from museum feet!"

"And remember the lift has to stop at each floor on the way down," said Fox. "That means twenty-four stops. It is not an express lift!"

"Here's an easy way down, boss," said Lucy, who was in a mischievous mood. "It says so by these three steps."

Lucy read out the notice they had seen on their previous visit:

"If you find it hard to reach the ground,

Go to top step and take a bound."

"That notice must be removed," said Uncle. "It is a vile verse!"

"I thought with you, sir, when I first saw it, what a mocking unkind verse it was," said Fox. "Then I thought, why not try it? Why not try just jumping up and down on the top stone without jumping over. Now just you watch!"

A. B. Fox climbed up the three steps and stood on the top one and jumped into the air. Not very high, but when he landed on the stone again it sank a little into the wall and then there was a rumbling sound below. "Look over the wall, sir!" shouted Fox.

By this time Fox was well below the top of the wall and stepping out upon a strong steel platform which had slid out from the wall. At the end of the platform was an enormous bucket on a steel pulley. "I thought you said you had found an easy way," said Uncle. "I usually find you completely reliable, Fox, but the ground is very far below us."

"Shall I show you?" said Fox. "I'll go first and you can see how easy it is."

"Certainly," said Uncle. Everybody leaned over the parapet and watched as Fox got into the bucket. Down, down, went the huge bucket, past floor after floor after floor of the tower.

At last a faint barking told them that Fox was on the ground.

They could see the steel rope winding steadily over the pulley as the bucket came up again. Soon there it was, empty and waiting at the end of the platform just below them.

Goodman and the One-Armed Badger went down together next, Lucy flying beside the bucket. Mr Oldeboy said he didn't feel able with his bad leg to get into such a dangerous contraption.

Brass said eagerly that he would go down with Mr Oldeboy in the lift. He liked lifts very much and wouldn't in the least mind stopping twenty-four times.

"To tell you the truth," Brass said quietly to the Old Monkey, "I'm frightened of going down in that bucket, and when I'm frightened I've just got to bark. What about you, don't you mind going down in it?"

"I always stay with Uncle," said the Old Monkey. "I've got a good head for heights and I like to be with him."

So it was arranged. Mr Oldeboy and Brass went off in the lift. Now there was nobody but Uncle and the Old Monkey at the top of the tower.

"I'm just a little doubtful about committing my mighty weight to the cable," said Uncle. "The bucket is big enough to take me, but is the cable strong enough?"

"Here's Lucy flying up," said the Old Monkey. "She seems to have something to say."

Lucy perched on the rim of the enormous bucket and looked up at Uncle.

"It's all right, boss," she said. "A. B. Fox says he's sorry he didn't mention before that it is printed on the side of the bucket weight not to exceed ten tons, so you'll be quite all right. There are lots of people waiting to watch you come down, sir."

Far, far below they could see a lot of pale blobs which were faces looking up.

Uncle felt he couldn't refuse to do what so many of his friends had done, though he knew that the risk for him was far greater than it had been for them.

He got into the bucket with the Old Monkey and came down faster than the others because he was so heavy, but all the same the descent was majestic.

Past storey after storey of Montague Tower the bucket floated, till, at last, Uncle's weighty form swung only a matter of feet above the crowd.

"They are cheering," he said to the Old Monkey. "I must say this is a most touching tribute."

"And well deserved, sir," said the Old Monkey.

Everybody was enchanted, and the cheering and clapping went on so long that Uncle felt he must make a short speech.

"My friends," he said, "history has been made today. Montague Tower has long been a toilsome and disappointing place. Now it can be turned into a source of pleasure to you all. It shall be named the Pleasure Palace. Tired mothers will be able to ascend with their infants, and inhale the fresh air at the top, and then descend gracefully and pleasurably with their progeny in this comfortable bucket.

Wearied old men like Mr Oldeboy can go up and down the tower in a convenient lift. There are endless things of interest to see on all the floors, and at the top you will be able to see a splendid view of Homeward and the countryside. I shall establish a new eating-house with very moderate prices--"

Here the applause was deafening and Uncle had to stop for a minute.

"Thanks, my friends," he continued at last, "but before I close, let me say that all the credit for this great discovery goes to my detective A. B. Fox; and as a token of my esteem I would like him to accept this ten pound note."

Everybody was so eager to start at once to explore the tower that Uncle had to take a firm stand and say that only the three floors of the museum which could be reached by the stairs from the ground-floor room of Septimus Brigg could be used at present.

"There will be a grand opening of the Pleasure Palace as soon as the tower is safe," he said.

Septimus Brigg was alarmed by the number of people who at once invaded his quiet room and crowded up the small staircase to see the treacle bowls and bird-baths, but he was anxious to keep his job, and so said nothing, but sat at the big table pretending to make entries in a large notebook.

The jug of banana fizz was hidden under it. Fox stood by the door into the coal cellar. As soon as Mr Oldeboy and Brass emerged he locked the door.

Uncle said to A. B. Fox:

"What are we going to do about the bucket? I know everybody will like coming down in it and now I have tested it I feel satisfied that it is safe enough, but I still feel the jumping stone is too much of a temptation. People will try it and fall over. What do you advise?"

"Get Cowgill to make a big spring net which will stretch between Montague Tower and the next tower. Anyone who falls into it will bounce a bit, but be perfectly safe."

"Excellent," said Uncle. "I will see Cowgill about the matter at once."

They all went home well satisfied with the day's work, but just before Uncle went to bed a copy of the Badfort News was thrust into his letter-box. A headline in black smudgy type read:

BULLY BOUNTY IN A BUCKET

A lot of mutton-headed mugs cheered and shouted when Bully Bounty descended from the top of Montague Tower in a bucket today. Pretty silly he looked, too. Of course, he didn't trust himself to the crazy container until his foolish followers had all risked their lives in it.

He made a rotten boasting speech at the bottom and handed that slimy Fox a small tip. And this, mark you, was meant to be a festive occasion. We, personally, felt there was one thing missing. If the rope had broken that would have been something to be festive about.

Signed B. Hateman, B.A.

"Burn the loathsome rag!" said Uncle to the Old Monkey.

TWELVE

The Pleasure Palace

Cowgill set to work at once to make the spring net. It was an everyday task for him, as there are so many spring platforms, slides and moving staircases in the towers of Homeward that he is always having to repair one or another of them. He has a large shed filled with springs and nets and girders and posts. He told Uncle he could have the net fixed in a week.

"Splendid," said Uncle. "That will give us time to arrange for the King of the Badgers to come. It will also take some days to collect sufficient provisions for a free opening feast."

The King of the Badgers agreed willingly to open the Pleasure Palace when Uncle spoke to him on the telephone.

"I will do my utmost to get there," he said, "but as you know, my good friend, we are in a state of semi-siege at Badgertown. I will have to have an armoured escort to get past Badfort. Beaver Hateman has captured an old cannon from my garrison and a number of cannon-balls. It has a priming-hole for firing and they are not very expert, but they get off wobbly shots every now and again. The Town Hall has already been slightly damaged."

"If they were to hit your procession on the way to my opening of the Pleasure Palace, that would be a victory for thep," said Uncle thoughtfully. "Perhaps I ought not to ask your Majesty to run the risk."

"Oh, I shall come if at all possible!" said the King of the Badgers. "We can't let these villains rule our lives, you know. I shall not wear my crown, and we will keep the time of starting a secret. Oh yes, I shall rely on the police to get me swiftly and safely past."

Uncle felt uneasy after this consultation, particularly as soon after it there was a sound of gunfire and then a heavy thud on the terrace. Sleepy Sam rushed into the house to say a cannon-ball had landed and made a large hole in the paving.

"They are learning to manage this old cannon," said Uncle. "This is becoming serious!"

However, during the afternoon Lucy made a scouting flight over Badfort, and came back with the good news that when Hateman was firing the cannon a cannon-ball had got stuck in the barrel and blown the end off.

"Hateman and Flabskin have got bandages round their heads!" said Lucy.

"This news is a great relief," said Uncle. "The way now seems clear for the opening ceremony."

The King of the Badgers, who is a very impoverished monarch, arrived in his shabby limousine, but with quite an impressive police guard on motor cycles. He came before lunch on the opening day. He ate a very good meal while he had the chance, as he was on a strict economy diet at the Palace.

"I understand your struggle with Hateman is about nonpayment of rates?" said Uncle.

"I sometimes think it will never end," said the King, accepting a second portion of banana jelly and cream. "To tell you the truth, I feel tempted to say, 'All right, don't pay your rates!' But that would be so unfair to the rest of my subjects. They save up to pay their rates so that the money can be used to improve Badgertown. The only thing to do is to remove what saleable property the Badfort Crowd have until justice has been done."

"I am surprised you got past Badfort so easily today," said Uncle. "Not even one bucket of ashes or one duck-bomb!"

"Nothing," said the King. "I think we must regard it as an ominous sign. They are preparing in some way to ruin the opening of the Pleasure Palace."

"We will be ready for them," said Uncle.

He gave his followers orders to keep a sharp look out, and as soon as lunch was over led a procession, with the King, to the base of Montague Tower.

There an immense crowd had gathered, drawn by the prospect of viewing many strange and rare objects in the museum, and even more by the promise of free food and an aerial descent from the tower.

Septimus Brigg, in a new purple suit, was holding a pair of golden scissors. These were to be used by the King of the Badgers to cut the ribbon which was stretched across the entrance to Montague Tower. Uncle and the King of the Badgers stood in front of the ribbon and faced the crowd.

"Friends," said Uncle, "we are greatly honoured by the presence of the King of the Badgers today. He risked his life to get here--"

The cheers here were loud and prolonged.

"It isn't often that we have royalty in our midst," Uncle continued, "but now we have let us make the most of it. Let me just tell you of the treats that have been prepared for you. There are many storeys in this tower crammed with valuable relics, and as looking at relics can be somewhat tiring I have arranged for museum lunch baskets to be provided on each floor for those who wish to make a serious study of the past (Cheers). Those who wish to go straight to the top of the tower will be presented with a bun and a mug of Koolvat (More cheers). The aerial lift is the great attraction there, and the perfect safety of this will be demonstrated to you before any member of the public tries it."

After the applause for this speech had died down the King of the Badgers took the golden scissors from Septimus Brigg.

"This is a happy day," he said in his rather gruff voice, "so let us all behave well and be a credit to our great benefactor. Not only is he most generous, but he is brave as well, as you will see demonstrated before the end of the afternoon. Enjoy yourselves, my subjects, and nobody take more than one luncheon basket, however great the temptation. And now all that remains for me to do is to cut this golden ribbon and declare the Pleasure Palace open."

Then the rush began. There was at once a long queue for the lift, but a good many people climbed the stairs to the first three floors, and the lift soon came down again to fetch others who wished to go up higher.

A. B. Fox came up to Uncle after a time and said quietly:

"I have bad news for you, sir. I am afraid all the members of the Badfort Crowd are here, sir. They are disguised in various ways with false beards and wigs, but I've spotted some of them."

"What are they up to?" asked Uncle. "I hope they are not causing trouble at the top of the tower. Cloutman and Gubbins are there, but even they would not find it easy to deal with all the Badfort Crowd."

"My theory is," said A. B. Fox, "that they are here to steal the museum lunch baskets."

Uncle was speechless with rage.

"You mean," he said at last, "that they are here to defraud the best people, the real museum fans!"

"Yes," said Fox, "the Badfort people must be short of food these days with that siege going on."

"This is despicable!" said Uncle. "It shall be stopped. I shall wait myself by the lift on the ground floor and deal with them as they emerge loaded with museum luncheon baskets."

Uncle stationed himself by the bottom lift entrance, armed with a stone club which he had brought in case of trouble. It was a wearisome task he had set himself. As the lift had so many stops it did not come down for a long time. And meanwhile he was due at the top of the tower himself.

The situation looked ugly and awkward.

Just when Uncle was coming to the conclusion that he could wait no longer Brass appeared at the top of the coal-cellar stairs.

"Sir," he panted, "the Badfort Crowd are all coming down the staircases in the corner of Mr Brigg's room! That's where they were, sir! They haven't been up the lift at all, sir!"

Uncle rushed up the steps. He was just in time to see a well ordered line of people from Badfort crossing the floor from the corner staircase to the main entrance. In spite of false beards and wigs they were all perfectly recognizable: Hitmouse, Flabskin, Jellytussle, Sigismund von Hateman and the Wooden-Legged Donkey.

Each was carrying a positive tower of museum luncheon baskets. Hateman, covering the rear, had his luncheon baskets in a big copper vase labelled 'Blackus Tommus' which he had clearly stolen from among the museum exhibits.

Uncle threw the stone club with lightning speed, and as he did so was sent staggering back against the great table. A heavy black object had struck him on the forehead.

With a yell of diabolical laughter Hateman disappeared after his friends. The stone club had unfortunately missed him and crashed harmlessly against the wall.

Uncle felt dizzy and ill. The Old Monkey and Brass guided him to a chair and the One-Armed Badger came rushing up with the first-aid kit.

Full of baffled rage, Uncle sat there while his head, which by now was swelling badly, was bandaged up. He managed to swallow a Headache Producer For Enemies, a pill made by Gleamhound, and after a skilful rubbing with magic ointment began to feel much bettei.

"Hateman will pay for this!" he said firmly. "For the moment the best thing to do is to go straight ahead with the rest of the opening ceremony."

"Oh, sir, do you think you should?" said the Old Monkey.

"Certainly," said Uncle, "the evil deeds of this monster must not be allowed to spoil our plan."

Brass and Goodman had been examining the heavy object which had dealt Uncle such a fearful blow and now rolled it over to him. It was a round blade iron object and had a brass plate let into the side of it.

" `This cannon-ball was used at the battle of Badgerino by Captain Tolley in 1721, " Goodman read out.

Uncle felt even more outraged.

"The base creature actually threw a valuable museum relic at me!" he said. "This is utterly foul!"

The Old Monkey had tears in his eyes for he knew his master had had a narrow escape.

By now the empty lift was waiting to take Uncle to the top of the tower. He marched steadily towards it, his bandaged head held high.

Loud cheers, mingled with expressions of deep concern, greeted him as he stepped from the lift at the top.

The King of the Badgers was terribly upset.

"The endless infamy of these people," he said. "Are you sure, honoured sir, that you are fit for this top level finish? I have just been informed as to what you plan to do, and I feel that you should not attempt it."

"Thanks for your concern, my friend," said Uncle, "but I am perfectly all right now. I will just say a word to the people."

Uncle stood on the bottom step of the three leading to the battlements.

"My friends, I thank you for your welcome," he said. "There has been an abominable theft of luncheon baskets and relics, but we will not dwell on this. I wish you to know that I propose to give each visitor as he leaves the museum a bag containing a large fruit cake, two pounds of bananas and two pounds of sweets."

The applause was deafening. Uncle signalled for it to stop.

"Now we come to the last planned item on our programme today. Below where I am standing at this moment is a swift and pleasant way to the bottom of the tower. Many of you have seen me descend in the roomy bucket which is worked by a strong steel cable. Now I would not like anybody to be hurt as a result of the opening of the Pleasure Palace. My engineer Cowgill has fixed a spring net covering the whole of the area between this tower and the next so that if anybody should slip he will be quite safe. Now I am going to plunge down into the spring net myself."

A loud murmur of excitement and consternation made it necessary for Uncle to pause for a moment.

"I am pretty heavy, though not fat," he went on. "I feel that if I take this first plunge it will be clear to you all that it is safe."

There was dead silence as Uncle mounted to the top of the parapet.

"Don't jeopardize your precious life, sir!" called Mr Oldeboy who was at the front of the crowd.

"Thanks, Mr Oldeboy," said Uncle, "but I am not in any danger!"

He stood there, a majestic figure in the purple dressing-gown edged with gold which he wore for special occasions. The afternoon sun made the jewels in his white boots glitter. The Old Monkey covered his eyes. Brass hid behind the King of the Badgers, whimpering slightly.

Then Uncle gave a mighty leap, up above the battlements. His gown flew out like a great flag, and then his weighty but comely body was plunging downward. Lucy the parrot swept down, keeping pace with the huge hurtling body.

The top of the tower was fringed with heads. Many of the badgers wept, some even screamed.

But at last, far, far below, the anxious watchers saw Uncle strike the net, sink deep into it, come bouncing to the surface again, sink again, and rise again. At last the net was still, and Uncle was able to tramp to the edge of it and stand firm and square, waving at the watchers. He was the first traveller by the aerial plunge-way.

THIRTEEN

Uncle's Christmas Shopping

The events of the past few days had been very tiring. As it was getting near Christmas, Uncle thought he would go to Brashbags Antique Shop and see if he could get a few presents. Brashbags is in Ironside Tower, near the Treacle Tunnel.

The One-Armed Badger was told it was not necessary to take anything to eat as they would not be away long. However, he knew that if he took nothing at all he would be certain to be sorry. So underneath a number of empty bags, for carrying things back, he hid a small store of what he called 'Mergency Rations'. These were just biscuits and chocolate, but it made him feel more secure to have them.

They were all in high spirits, and sang as they walked through the keen frosty air. Uncle sang a song they had not heard before called, "What I Got in my Stocking." And they all laughed when they thought of how much an elephant's stocking would hold.

The song only had one verse, but it could go on for ever. Each person could sing a verse and add another present for the stocking.

This is the first verse of the song Uncle sang:

"My Christmas stocking doesn't hold a lot,

Just an egg-rest, a casky, a pencil-case,

AND A KANGLE-POT!"

"Now somebody else sing the second verse," said Uncle.

"Please, sir, what is a casky?" asked the Old Monkey.

"Oh, just a pocket container for holding small change," said Uncle.

"And what's an egg-rest?" asked Goodman.

"Holds an egg sideways of course," said Uncle. "Easy to clean, you know."

"And what's a kangle-pot?" asked Brass.

"It's a small clay pot with leather handles. It usually has curious figures painted on it. A magic pot used a lot by wizards. Now don't keep asking what everything is! Just add one new thing to put in the stocking as you sing a verse. Come on, Goodman, and don't make any difficulties!"

Goodman lifted his head up and sang in a high whining voice:

"My Christmas stocking doesn't hold a lot,

Just a herring, an egg-rest, a casky, a pencil-case,

AND A KANGLE-POT!"

"At last we're getting somewhere!" said Uncle. "Now your turn, Old Monkey!"

"My Christmas stocking doesn't hold a lot,

Just a banana, a herring, an egg-rest, a casky, a pencil-case,

AND A KANGLE-POT!"

Lucy sang her verse as she flew over their heads. It was funny to hear her squawking notes coming down from above.

"My Christmas stocking doesn't hold a lot, Just a necklace, a banana,

a herring, an egg-rest, a casky, a pencil-case,

AND A KANGLE-POT!"

The One-Armed Badger has rather a gruff voice, and it was pretty well muffled under his pack. Still he got through it all right.

"My Christmas stocking doesn't hold a lot, Just magic ointment, a necklace, a banana,

a herring, an egg-rest, a casky, a pencil-case,

AND A KANGLE-POT!"

"Now your turn, Brass," said Uncle, and Brass sang in piercing but cheerful voice:

"My Christmas stocking doesn't hold a lot, Just a kennel,

a bag of biscuits, AND A RUBBER BONE!"

"Really, Brass," said Goodman. "Can't you get a simple thing like this right!"

It was clear Brass hadn't got the idea, so they sang a few more verses without him, and he ran ahead to see if he could get to Brashbags shop before anybody else.

Cowgill had built Brashbag a fine new shop after his old one had been ruined by treacle. Now his goods were rather more neatly displayed. Some of the things on the bottom shelves even looked as if they were occasionally dusted.

Brashbag, a thin worried-looking man, brightened up the moment he saw Uncle.

"Oh, sir," he said, "Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without a visit from you. Word gets around when you've been, you know, and others come. 'If the Master of Homeward shops at Brashbags Antique Shop, I must try it too!' That's the way it goes!

"Well, I'm glad I came, Brashbag," said Uncle. "I want a present for my aunt, Miss Maidy."

"Oh, I well remember the excellent lady and her companion Miss Wace!" cried Brashbag. "Now let us see what we can do. What about these? Buttons taken from the waistcoat of the Young Pretender."

Uncle looked rather doubtfully at a large pile of somewhat dingy silver buttons.

"There must be two hundred buttons in that pile," he said. "Do you mean to tell me that this young Prince had two hundred buttons on his waistcoat?"

"That's what I was told," said Brashbag.

"I consider the buttons to be fakes, Brashbag," said Uncle, "and you are a pretender if you try to sell them to me!"

Brashbag looked worried.

"Oh dear, if you feel like that let me show you something else. It has just come in from the Badgertown museum. This is very special."

Uncle looked at the dingy card which was pasted on the lid of an old biscuit tin painted brown:

This log-box is unique. It was

given by Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn

during their courtship.

Uncle opened the box. Inside it were a couple of half-burnt sticks.

"And what," asked Uncle sternly, "are those supposed to be?"

"They come from the very fire before which they sat when his Majesty proposed to the lady. It's a bit touching, really."

"I do not find it touching!" said Uncle. "And I am surprised at you, Brashbag, being taken in by such an obvious fake. I will buy it from you for one pound and dispose of it." Uncle took the log box and put his foot on it, squashing it flat.

"I can only try something else, sir," said Brashbag, and led Uncle to a glass-fronted case in which were an embroidered coat, a bead purse, two fans and a small sampler.

"I like the look of that sampler," said Uncle. It was worked very neatly in red and blue wool and was not much faded.

"I bought this from Wizard Blenkinsop when he was hard up. It was done by his great-great-great-aunt when she was a little girl."

"She had a very long name, sir," said the Old Monkey.

"Read what it says, Goodman," said Uncle.

The words were very nicely embroidered and set out like this:

June July August Spindrake

Elsina Fenella Penelope

Blenkinsop

Age 10

Nov 12 1769

Wisdom Is Work.

"I like that very much, Brashbag," said Uncle, when Goodman had finished reading. "And it is genuine. My aunt Miss Maidy will appreciate that. Now lead me on to your novelties, if you have any."

"I have this teapot," said Brashbag. "It's made of rubber and has aroused a lot of interest."

Uncle immediately liked the rubber teapot. If you pressed a button in the handle the sides fell away to make it easy to clean. You pressed the button again and the sides came up. Also the whole front of the teapot looked like a frowning face except when the tea was being poured out. Then it expanded into an enormous grin. It went back to frowning again when the pouring ceased.

"That is just the thing for Miss Wace," said Uncle.

"A real novel-tea!" said Brashbag, and laughed for a long time at his own joke. The others laughed too, but not so much.

Uncle was also taken with an expanding spoon for greedy people who were apt to put spoons right into their mouths. Once right in, the spoon expanded, so that you couldn't get it out for some time. Uncle bought a number of these.

The Old Monkey bought a patent Beetle-Brusher for Mig, Uncle's cook. It looked rather like a lawn-mower, but had a big revolving brush inside, steeped in some fluid which was fatally attractive to beedes. The Old Monkey asked Brashbag to demonstrate it.

"Certainly," said Brashbag. "Since the treacle-flood we have been somewhat bothered by beetles who search for dried-up treacle in far corners. Let me show you."

Brashbag rolled the Beetle-Brusher to and fro and the floor was soon covered with lines of advancing beetles. They all made for the brushes and were swept up in no time.

"What about the fluid?" asked Uncle. "Is it easy to get? So often one buys a gadget, and it is impossible to obtain the necessary fluid to work it."

"Oh, you can get this at any time from Gleamhound's in Lion Tower. It is called Beetle Menace and is guaranteed to drive beetles back into their holes. As you have seen, it does just the opposite."

The others were eager to look round the shop a little longer, but Uncle felt there was nothing more he wanted to buy. However his eye was caught by a large plain rug hanging up near the door.

"That is not an antique, and yet it has nothing novel about it, Brashbag," he said. "Why is it hanging in such a prominent position?"

"Ah, sir, it has something novel about it," said Brashbag eagerly. "It is a sort of magic rug."

Uncle read aloud the printed notice on the back of the rug:

"When you require a bed suddenly, just lie on rug and pull third tassel from top left. Rug will then immediately curl over, forming ample covering below and above. Top end rolls up making comfortable pillow. Suits any-sized person."

"Have you tried it, Brashbag?" asked Uncle.

"Well, no, I was a little nervous about it. What if I got the instructions wrong and there was a customer waiting. Will you do me the honour of trying it, sir?"

"I could do with a five-minute stretch," said Uncle.

He stretched his great form out on the rug which Brashbag had eagerly spread on the cleanest piece of floor.

Then he pulled the third tassel from the top left and the sides of the rug rose and curled neatly over him. He had to raise his head as he felt the top end of the rug curling round and swelling up to make a pillow.

"I say," said Uncle, "this is a splendid thing. I feel quite warm and comfortable. Don't hurry, my friends, just get on with your shopping."

The One-Armed Badger did not want to do any more shopping, and seemed to feel a little anxious about his master, for he sat beside the rug-bed quietly watching. Soon the shop was filled with the melodious snores of the great benefactor.

He slept for about an hour, and when he woke everybody but the One-Armed Badger had returned to Homeward.

"The Old Monkey thought he ought to tell Mig lunch would be late!" said the One-Armed Badger.

"Excellent," said Uncle. "I will have a couple of these rugs,

Brashbag. One for myself, and one for my brother Rudolph, the well-known traveller. This is just the thing for cold nights in the open. Now I must get out of this comfortable contraption."

The rug was still tight about him, and he couldn't even get his arms out.

"Just pull that tassel, One-Armed," he said. "I can't reach it."

But pulling the tassel only seemed to make the blanket wrap more tightly about him. Uncle began to feel hot and worried.

"Oh, sir," Brashbag moaned, "what a dreadful thing to happen! "We'll get you out, sir, even if we have to cut the rug in two!"

"Don't be silly, Brashbag," said Uncle, wriggling about inside the rug. "There will be an instruction about getting out somewhere. Look for it!"

"Please, sir," said the One-Armed Badger, "I think way out inside blanket."

"That sounds sensible," said Uncle, "but I cannot feel anything."

"Under pillow," said the One-Armed Badger. "Feel under pillow, sir."

Uncle tried to be calm, lie still and get his trunk under the pillow. At first he couldn't feel anything, and then he came across something square and hard. He pressed it.

"Trust you to supply a solution!" sighed Uncle, as the sides of the rug grew slack, and then collapsed loosely round him. "Well done, One-Armed!"

Uncle got up and shook himself, much relieved.

While Brashbag was wrapping up the rugs Uncle found a good work-coat for the One-Armed Badger. It was made of strong canvas and had seventeen pockets in it. The One-Armed Badger was delighted.

The 'Mergency Rations' came in well, too, for all that struggling under the rug had made Uncle hungry. They had what Uncle called a walking lunch, marching along by the side of the moat and munching the chocolate and biscuits.

FOURTEEN

Dr Lyre's Christmas Party

When Uncle got back to Homeward he found an invitation from Dr Lyre. This is what the letter said:

Dear Chairman and Friend,

I have decided this year to give a Christmas party. We all want you to come and grace the occasion. It will just be an afternoon affair, so won't take up too much of your valuable time. I will be providing tea, but of course any little additions you like to bring would be welcome, and if you felt like giving a Silver Scramble I would not object. And if your regal mind felt that the headmaster, who is usually forgotten on these occasions, should have some small token, then I would welcome it. But these are trivial matters. The great thing is to have you, you, you. Do please come.

A. Lyre, M.A., B.SC., M.O.U.S.E.

Uncle did not much like this letter, but decided to go to the party all the same.

"If I know Lyre he won't give them much for Christmas tea. I will see the boys are looked after."

Uncle prepared for the party by packing an immense travelling-bag. Most travelling-bags are pretty big, but an elephant's travelling-bag is tremendous. It can hold several hundredweight of things.

The One-Armed Badger was quite upset because the bag was far too big for him to carry. He made up for it by taking a full load of sweets and crackers.

Brass, the Old Monkey, Goodman and Lucy all took great bunches of balloons. Cloutman and Gubbins carried two huge sacks of eatables.

Snow was beginning to fall as they set out, and the wind was keen as they travelled on the switchback to Lion Tower. Some of the balloons got lost, sailing away up and up among the snow-flakes.

Dr Lyre's school is on the bottom storey of Lion Tower, and has a green for games stretching between two immense towers. Inside it looks very pretty in winter as the lamps are all pink and orange. The desks are made of blocks of polished iron which shine with long quivering reflections when the lights are on.

Dr Lyre always sits in a railed-in platform at one end of the long classroom. There is an underground passage from one end of the room to the other, and if a Boy wants to see the headmaster he dives down a staircase, runs along the passage, and comes up by the platform.

Today there was a big crowd of children and parents. Dr Lyre led Uncle to the platform. Uncle's party had special seats of honour just below the platform.

Dr Lyre rapped on the desk before him with a cane and said:

"Now that the Chairman of our Governors has arrived our festivities can begin. I just want to give a short account of the year's work. It has been splendid. Quite a number of boys have learned to read and write, and everybody has been caned."

"I haven't been caned!" shouted somebody at the back.

"Ah, that's our friend Noddy Ninety," said Dr Lyre. "He is the exception that proves our rule."

"You daren't touch me!" Noddy Ninety continued. "You know you'd get knocked out if you did!"

"That is an abominable remark," said Dr Lyre, "but I will pass lightly over it as this is a festive occasion."

All the same there was a good deal of giggling at this interruption. Noddy Ninety is very old, but disguises himself as a schoolboy of ten, and wears a grey flannel suit and a flaxen wig. In the holidays he drives a little train on the coast near Sunset Beach.

"Now I want all parents to see how well my school is run, and how a high standard of discipline is maintained. Stand up everybody who has been caned!"

The whole company of boys seemed to rise and Dr Lyre turned to Uncle, his spectacles shining.

"There, sir, I hope you are impressed."

"Please, Dr Lyre," said a small boy near the front. "Miggins hasn't been caned. He's sitting down."

"Now how can Miggins have escaped?" said Dr. Lyre. "I am greatly puzzled. Never mind, I'll make up for it now. Miggins, come up here!"

Uncle felt it was time to interfere.

"As this is the season of goodwill, Lyre, I must ask you to let Miggins off. And I feel I should say, now that so many parents and boys are here, that I object to caning at all times."

The cheers that bunt out now were overwhelming.

"Well," said Dr Lyre at last, "I am surprised to hear such a renowned kicker-upper as yourself, sir, say that. But let us turn to brighter things. Let us demonstrate to all the high level of our scholarship. Finn, come up here."

A small boy wearing spectacles came up and stood by Dr Lyre.

"Good old Finn!" shouted a supporter.

"Now the honour of the school is in your hands, Finn," said Dr Lyre. "Please spell, as it is Christmas, Wenceslas."

Finn thought deeply and then began in a squeaky voice. "W-E-N-C--"

"E, not i," prompted Goodman from just below the platform.

"E-S-L-A-S!" finished Finn.

"Splendid, splendid," said Lyre, "and now, to honour our Chairman, spell the word Uncle. And, if you don't mind, no prompting from the front."

"U-N-K-L-E," said Finn.

"Well, nearly right, very nearly," said Dr Lyre. "Step down, Finn."

"I could have done better than that!" shouted Noddy Ninety.

"Now I wish to give each boy a present!" said Dr Lyre, when the various comments and laughter had died down. "You see this box. It contains a valuable present for each boy."

It looked a very small box. Clearly, everybody felt it could only contain very small presents.

"I wanted to give you all a copy of my celebrated book The History of Lion Tower," said Dr Lyre, "but funds would not run to that. Instead here, reduced to postcard size, are reproductions of a famous picture of a great deed for which our Chairman was responsible--The Opening of the Dwarfs' Drinking Fountains."

Dr Lyre expected a wild outburst of applause, but only one or two polite parents clapped. Uncle didn't look very pleased, either. To tell the truth Uncle is thoroughly sick of being praised for opening the drinking fountains.

He stood up and said:

"While the cards are being passed round I would like to ask my helpers Cloutman and Gubbins, who are waiting at the back of the hall, to bring in my travelling-bag."

This time the cheers were really enthusiastic, and grew louder and louder as the immense bag was brought in.

In the bag were mechanical models of all kinds, tool kits, chemistry sets, cowboy outfits, policeman's helmets, bows and arrows, table games, footballs, fountain pens, guitars, flutes, drums, mouth organs, puzzles, Plasticine, books, tops, trumpets. And, of course, a bag of sweets for each boy.

Uncle gave Dr Lyre a specially abridged copy of The History of Homeward, by Will Shudder, which he seemed only moderately pleased to have.

"Tea now, boys!" he shouted when all the toys had been given out.

Uncle gave Cloutman and Gubbins the signal to fetch in the sacks. He said politely to Dr Lyre:

"I have just brought a few additional mince pies, iced cakes, sausage rolls, ginger nuts and chocolate biscuits. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind!" said Dr Lyre. "As a matter of fact the provisions I have provided are rather on the scanty side, just a bun and a cup of tea. All the school funds would allow."

In a very short time every sausage roll, every chocolate biscuit and every ginger nut had been eaten, and Uncle announced that they would now have a silver scramble. All the desks were pushed back, and Uncle stood on the platform with a large sack of silver coins before him.

"Now," said Uncle, "I shall throw these coins as far as I can, and you all catch as many as you can! No pushing. If I see any rough stuff from any boy Cloutman and Gubbins will remove that boy from the scramble."

Dr Lyre looked rather wistful as the bright coins flew through the air. Uncle noticed this and pressed a ten-pound note into his hand.

"Just a trifle to get yourself a few Christmas treats," he said.

"Oh, thank you, sir. I really appreciate your kind thought!" said Lyre and eagerly pocketed the note.

As Uncle and his party were getting ready to go, Dr Lyre offered Uncle half a dozen of the Dwarfs' Drinking Fountain cards that he still had on hand.

"No, thank you, Lyre," said Uncle firmly. "The fact is I am tired of hearing about this particular event. Have you any other photographs that are a bit more novel? I would like one of Noddy Ninety to stick in my photograph album."

"Would you?" said Dr Lyre, amazed. "How curious! A photograph of Noddy Ninety is the last thing I would want for my album. Still, your word is law, and as we have an official school photographs taken every summer no doubt I can oblige you."

While Dr Lyre was looking for the photograph a number of the parents came up to Uncle and asked what prospects there were of their sons finding work at Homeward after they had finished at the Academy.

Uncle told them that boys who were really clever might find work as assistants to his librarian, Will Shudder. Mr Cowgill, in the engineering department of Homeward, sometimes took on apprentices. Those with a leaning towards chemistry might try Mr Gleamhound in Lion Tower, and Captain Walrus was always willing to give advice about going to sea. Musical boys might do well to see Signor Thomaso Elsicar Gordono in Watercress Tower. As for business, Mr Cheapman was always ready to give a promising boy a start.

Uncle and his party went home well pleased with their afternoon. Sleepy Sam told Brass there had been no trouble from Badfort when he went out to the terrace to have a short rest in his kennel.

"It's because of the Christmas Eve party coming up," said Sleepy Sam.

"We've just had a party," said Brass. "Is there another?"

"Is there another?" Sleepy Sam laughed, and pulled a piece of tarpaulin over his barrow because it was beginning to snow again. "That shows how little you know about this place! Uncle gives a real slap-up do on Christmas Eve, for everybody, and the Badfort lot always behave well for a bit before it."

"Do they come?" asked Brass, surprised.

"There is always a truce on Christmas Eve. Everybody comes!"

"A truce?" asked Brass. "What's that?"

"Everybody stops fighting," said Sleepy Sam.

"So I'd better not run up Hateman's back and bite his shoulder at the party?" said Brass.

"No," said Sleepy Sam, "certainly not!"

"Glad you told me," said Brass.

FIFTEEN

Blizzards and Benefits

A series of spasmodic blizzards set in just before Christmas. They always followed the same pattern. Snow nearly all day but a clear late afternoon and evening. It was really quite difficult to get over to Badgertown except on skis. Brass's kennel and Sleepy Sam's barrow had had to be brought indoors as they would have been entirely buried in snow.

"It's such a cold winter that I think we must concentrate on having a large fire outside Homeward," Uncle told the Old Monkey. "We can march round it and give everybody who wants it a sack of coal. Also I've set my heart on having a really big tree. Everybody can climb among the branches for presents."

All Uncle's friends agreed that a big fire and a tree big enough for climbing in would be splendid, but how was he to organize things on such a scale?

"It's an engineering job to begin with," said Uncle. "We must call Cowgill in."

"I've had my eye on a big tree near my works, sir," Cowgill said at the consultation. "If I can get enough labour we will transplant it, and place it at one end of the terrace."

"Good," said Uncle. "And I will need a smaller tree as well as the huge one."

"Do you think you will, sir?" asked Cowgill. "The big one I have in mind is very big, and will take some decorating."

"Not everybody is good at climbing," said Uncle. "Small animals may safely climb a small tree, and people like Oldeboy may just choose a parcel by reaching up."

"I'll get some overtime labour from Badgertown," said Cowgill, "for lots of people are glad of a bit extra at Christmas. But as for the big fire, sir, that's more of a difficulty."

"Why?" asked Uncle. "I thought of ordering seventy tons of ash wood, and a hundred tons of coal to begin with."

"It's these blizzards, sir," said Cowgill. "The roads are pretty well blocked up, you know, and the trucks can't get through."

Uncle was growing more and more annoyed at the thought of not being able to give people sacks of coal. "I suppose I shall have to give blankets instead," he said, rather crossly.

"I'm sorry, sir," said Cowgill. "I've only got enough coal to keep the works and generator going."

It was snowing heavily as usual next morning when the Old Monkey brought Uncle his breakfast bucket of boiling cocoa.

"Heffo's on the way with the post, sir," he said. "He's pulling a sledge today!"

"Good idea," said Uncle, and then sighed. "But it's snowing as hard as ever. Cowgill will never get the coal and logs through if it goes on!"

"I'll just go and get something warm for Heffo," said the Old Monkey.

Heffo is a strong young mustang, and a very good postman. All Uncle's friends were at the windows to watch him struggling over the drawbridge with the post. He was just like a moving oblong of white, pulling a long mound of white.

When he finally reached the front door everybody helped to brush the snow off him, and carry the sacks of letters into the hall.

"Never knew anything like it," said Heffo, who stood steaming in front of the huge fire.

The Old Monkey brought in a bucket of warm boiled oats and a huge can of horse-radish tea, and Heffo began to be quite cheerful.

He likes being Uncle's postman in spite of the difficulties, for he always gets a good meal when he comes to Homeward, and the Old Monkey usually puts a snack or two in his empty sacks for him to take home. Today he had a whole sack of choice bran biscuits, apples and sugar to take away with him.

Uncle came down while Heffo was recovering and began to go through his post. He gets hundreds of Christmas cards and begging letters at Christmas, and he gives away a great deal. It is about the busiest time in the year for Will Shudder, who answers all the letters for Uncle, helped by Goodman, who does all the stamping.

Goodman and Will Shudder came in with huge piles of letters for Heffo to take back.

Uncle had put on his glasses and was looking at the cards.

The King of the Badgers had sent a small refined card with a litde gold crown on it. Cheapman's was a massive piece of cardboard so thick with gold paint that it looked like a gold plate on one side. On the other side was rather a good picture of Homeward with all the windows lit up with gold and silver.

When you moved the card about the lighted windows seemed to twinkle and so did the stars in the dark blue sky above. Inside the card was written: "To my great patron. This is what the Castle of Homeward looks like from the top of Cheapman's Store."

"Very good," said Uncle.

Sebastian Brigg had sent a small brown card with a drawing of a Flemish cooking-pot on it.

The next envelope Uncle opened was slightly shabby and smudged. It had a card with a festive picture of a blazing fire on it. Inside was some small black writing.

"Goodman!" roared Uncle. "Come and read this difficult writing. I have a feeling this card is important. Read who it's from first."

"It says: 'Best wishes for a warm Christmas from Benjamin Coleman'," said Goodman.

"Go on!" said Uncle. "I've never heard of him."

Everybody crowded round as Goodman went on reading:

"A present to Uncle I now bestow Because he is helping the folk in the snow."

"Excellent," said Uncle, "this sounds promising! What comes next?"

" 'I made my money from coal, and have sunk all my savings in building up a vast store of choice household coal in Pink-Smoke Tower in the Castle of Homeward.' "

"Ah, that's the tower on the way to Blowpipe Laundry we've often looked at but never explored," said Uncle. "This is the sort of letter I like."

" 'I have been waiting to give my coal away, but I wanted to be sure that it went to people who really needed it. You, sir, will be generous with it, I know. To you, personally, I wish to give fifty sacks of Smokeless Colour Coal to burn at Christmas. It burns best with logs and will make pretty red, blue and green flames. I hope it will gladden the heart of the master of Homeward and all his friends. I live a long way off, so it is no good trying to find me. The door has a Bewley Lock.' "

There was a short silence after Goodman finished reading and then Uncle got up, smiling.

Well," he said, "I call this inspiring! I was very worried about the coal I had ordered not coming through, and now this happens. Thanks to this mysterious Benjamin Coleman my worries are removed. I shall put this card in the place of honour in the middle of the mantelpiece!"

"What's a Bewley Lock?" asked Brass.

"For once, Brass," said Uncle, "you have asked me a question I cannot answer."

"Anyway, the door into the Pink-Smoke Tower has one," said the Old Monkey.

"The snow will most likely ease off this afternoon," said Uncle. "It usually does, so some of you had better ski over to Pink-Smoke Tower and have a look and report back. I hope there aren't any difficulties. I can't go myself as Cowgill will have a team of badgers putting the big tree into position."

It was growing dark by the time the big tree was fixed and the party returned from Pink-Smoke Tower.

The Old Monkey hates Uncle to be disappointed, so he looked very doleful as he stood in front of him and said:

"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't get into Pink-Smoke Tower. There's a big door with hinges, but no handle. We just can't open it, and there aren't any windows."

"Send for A. B. Fox!" roared Uncle.

A. B. Fox came gliding up to the door of Homeward in bright moonlight later that evening. He is a splendid skier and positively whizzes over the snow. "Now, Fox," said Uncle, hastily giving him the twelve and a halfpence that was due for a consultation, "this is an urgent matter. Christmas is nearly upon us, and I've set my heart on giving everybody who comes to my Christmas Eve party a sack of coal."

"A splendid warm-hearted idea, if I may say so, sir," said Fox, accepting a flagon of Hot Joey.

Uncle then outlined the various difficulties and finally mentioned the Bewley Lock. "Oh, that!" said Fox. "A Bewley. Don't worry about that!"

"But I do worry," said Uncle. "I want a way found to that store of coal and I want it found instantly."

"Then you've come to the right person," said Fox. "We detectives understand the Bewley Lock. It's a matter of hinges, you see. You must forget keys and handles. The hinges act like bolts. You just push the hinges along a hidden groove as if they were bolts and the door opens at once."

"What a relief!" said Uncle. "Fox, I shall reward you for this handsomely."

"No need, sir," said Fox. "I just told you what I knew, no special effort required."

Fox stayed to supper. Everybody had a small Christmas pudding. They had all been boiled up by Mig in a vast cauldron. There was a lot of work to do wrapping up parcels for the Christmas tree. "I will have to get Cowgill to transport enough coal for the big fire from Pink-Smoke Tower," said Uncle. "That's not going to be easy."

Next morning they were up early and the great work of decoration began. Luckily, for once, it was not snowing, and so they were able to shake quite a lot of snow off the branches of the big tree, and hang up the presents. The Old Monkey was very good at this and skimmed up and down the tree carrying parcels. His small thin body could go nearly to the end of the spreading branches without breaking them.

Lucy could take the string of a parcel in her beak and fly to the topmost branches with it. Goodman was an excellent climber too. Uncle was so big that he could hang up a lot of the heavier presents just by curling his trunk round a bundle and lifting it up among the branches. Then the Old Monkey could fasten it safely. Brass could not climb into the tree, of course, but he ran to and fro between the house and the tree carrying packages for the others.

While this was being done Fox had gone with Cowgill and Cloutman and Gubbins along to Pink-Smoke Tower with a team of strong badgers and the special tower-and-hill-climbing tank fitted with snow chains.

By the end of the morning the big fire by the edge of the moat, which was frozen over, of course, had been stacked and was ready for lighting. Shovelling and banking the snow to make room for the firing had been quite a big job. The ash logs had been carted and piled. The bags of colour-coal had been put on the terrace so that some could be used for special colour effects at the end of the evening.

Everything was ready at last, and as dusk began to fall Uncle and his friends went to the big hall and had a high tea. Outside, the lights on the Christmas tree were all glowing in red, yellow, pink, and orange, and there was a brilliant flickering light from the great fire which Cowgill and his helpers were attending.

Brass was so excited he kept dashing into the hall and out again, but he did manage not to bark, except once. Then he could not help it. He saw, to his astonishment that the top of the great tree was bending to and fro. There was no wind. It was going to be a frosty night with a bright moon, and the air was still. And yet the silver star on the topmost branch was moving to and fro, to and fro.

Somebody was up in the tree. Who could it be? All the rest of the party were at the table in the hall.

So Brass barked.

At once Cowgill and his helpers round the great fire stopped shovelling and piling logs. Uncle and the others came to the door.

"What's the matter, Brass?" shouted Uncle. "Stop that noise."

"There's somebody up in the big tree, sir," he said.

"Somebody up in the big tree!" Uncle was outraged.

He came out of the house and stood below and shouted up into the darkness and starriness of the branches:

"Come down, whoever you are!"

But nobody came down, and the star at the top of the big tree was now quite still.

SIXTEEN

The Big Tree

"I'll go up and have a look, sir," said the Old Monkey.

"Be careful, my friend," said Uncle. "It would be most unusual for the Badfort Crowd to try anything on just before the party, but no friend of ours would hide in that tree now."

"I'll climb up too, sir," said Goodman.

"And I'll fly up," said Lucy.

The Old Monkey was up the inside of the tree in a flash, Goodman following. Lucy fluttered up and hovered near the star which had begun to wave wildly to and fro again. The watchers below heard a few squeaks, and then a shower of pointed silver things fell into the snow.

"Skewers! That means Hitmouse!" said Uncle. "This is disgraceful!"

Brass, hearing the ominous name, began to bark, and so ear-shattering was the din that it was impossible to know what was happening.

"Be quiet, Brass!" said Uncle, sternly.

"It's not Hitmouse!" screeched Lucy, swooping down.

"Nobody but Hitmouse carries skewers!" said Uncle, puzzled.

There was a lot more squeaking and moving of the branches, and the Old Monkey crept out from beneath the lowest branch holding by the collar a little bedraggled creature who was smaller than Hitmouse, but very like him.

"Who are you?" thundered Uncle.

The little creature winced. Uncle was so enormous that he had to put his head right back to look up at him.

"Adolphus Hitmouse," the creature muttered. "Brother of Hitmouse over at Badfort. I'm staying with him for Christmas."

"Indeed! And what are you doing in my Christmas Tree?"

"Finding out where the best presents are for my brother. I was going to stay up in the tree till he got here and then point them out so he could get a good haul!"

Uncle frowned down heavily. "I am sorry to see you set on evil ways so young. Don't you know that we try to have one day of the year free from fighting?"

"I wasn't fighting!" said Adolphus. "I was just sitting quietly on a branch no trouble to anybody."

"With a beltful of skewers!" said Uncle.

"Well, that horrible monkey and cat took those!" said Adolphus. "And they took a lot of collecting!"

"I have a good mind to shut you up in my castle so that you can't come to the party!" said Uncle sternly.

"But you won't, will you?" said Adolphus. "You've just said you've got to be nice to everybody today, so that means being nice to me too."

"Be off with you," said Uncle, "and join your friends, and see you aren't brought before me again."

The little creature made a face at Uncle and then ran as hard as he could for the drawbridge.

"He is as detestable as his brother," said Uncle. "Well, after that regrettable little interruption let us press on. It's getting dark and we must have the cauldron of Hot Joey ready. It will be a cold walk from Badgertown."

When darkness fell the scene was delightful. There was no more snow. The moon was like a bright silver plate and the sky was full of glittering stars. The fire made the snow for yards around rose-coloured, and the lights on the big tree made a great pyramid of colour against the wall of Homeward.

Soon many dark figures, some on skis, some with toboggans, were to be seen moving down the white slopes from Badgertown. Many of the guests were carrying lanterns, and these made moving points of light.

Even the Badfort Crowd, for once, added a picturesque touch, for they had made torches out of old rags wrapped round bits of wood and dipped them in scob-oil before lighting them. They smelt rather awful, but made lovely blazing lights across the snow.

And for once Hateman had something quite nice to say. Uncle was standing by the Moat Bridge with his great steaming cauldron of Hot Joey and he heard Hateman say to Sigismund as he shuffled up in the queue:

"The old gaffer has got a good flare-up, anyhow. It's as warm as summer! I wonder where he got all that coal and wood from!"

When Hateman received his mug of Hot Joey he growled: "Ought to have been Black Tom, but Joey is a fair-to-middling drink and I can lace it!"

Hateman was wearing a huge dirty coat made out of an old sheepskin hearthrug, and he produced from an inner pocket a flask, the contents of which he poured into the mug.

Uncle ignored this.

When everybody had arrived Uncle made a short speech.

"Friends," he said, standing on the steps before the great door of Homeward, "I welcome you all to the Big Tree and the Big Fire and wish you all a very happy Christmas. There are one or two new things this year. I want you all to climb and get your presents from the branches of the Big Tree, and for those of you who can't climb there is a Little Tree.

I do ask you to remember what day it is, and only take one parcel each. They're all good ones, and I'm giving everybody who is at this party a sack of good coal. I know you may not be able to take it away tonight, but it's here, waiting for you when you can fetch it, or when the rush has died down we can bring it to you."

The cheers were almost deafening. Uncle could see that his coal idea had been a good one, and he decided that after Christmas was over he would get A. B. Fox to find out where Benjamin Coleman lived, so that he could thank him.

"Good news, Sigismund," muttered Beaver Hateman in the crowd. "We won't have to burn any more doors for a bit, and when we fetch our little lot we'll see we get plenty!"

"I suggest," said Uncle, "that before we start climbing the tree, or have supper, we have a singing march round the fire. Anybody willing to give us a song will stand aside on the steps here, so that all can see and hear."

"Sigismund and I will sing first!" shouted Hateman.

It wasn't quite the beginning for the singing march Uncle wanted, but for once Hateman was behaving well, and Sigismund has a good voice, so Uncle beckoned them to come forward.

"Come on, Sig, strum on the bucket guitar, will you!" shouted Hateman.

Luckily the song had quite a lively tune and the hundreds of guests began the singing march round the fire. Lots of them didn't hear the words--which was just as well, Uncle thought.

"Turn out your pockets and raise a little dough

For your good friend Hateman at The Tom Shop;

He makes you feel so happy he puts you in a glow

When you stand him treat at The Tom Shop.

He will tell you of the battles he has fought for all of you

As you pour down flagons at The Tom Shop;

Don't listen to the idiots who say this isn't true

But join Beaver Hateman at The Tom Shop.

Tell him all your troubles. Get them off your chest

To sympathetic Hateman at The Tom Shop;

You pay the bill and let him do the rest

As you drink to Revolution at The Tom Shop."

Uncle felt sure that each verse would be more obnoxious than the last, so after the third verse he held up his trunk.

"Short songs tonight!" he shouted. "Now we will have a song from somebody else!"

He was very pleased when Cowgill came up to him hand in hand with a little girl.

"This is my niece Eva, sir," said Cowgill. "She's staying with me for Christmas, and she sings very nicely. Her song is called Christmas Eve."

"I think we had better stop the marching for your song, Eva," said Uncle, "so that everybody can hear. I don't want all my guests to get cold so I hope it isn't a long song."

"There are only four verses, sir," said Eva, very politely.

So Uncle led Eva up to the steps and stopped the marching. Everybody liked the look of the little girl. She was wearing a dark green coat and a white cap and carried a sprig of holly.

Cowgill stood near her and she began to sing:

"One of my names is Eva

So you can well believe

That as I was born at Christmas

They called me Christmas Eve.

So Christmas Eve's my birthday

And each year I receive

A double lot of presents

Because it's Christmas Eve.

When I hang up my stocking

I hang up two not one

And both are full of presents

Before the night is done.

It's nice to give at Christmas

As well as to receive

So you must share my double share

Upon this Christmas Eve."

There was tremendous applause for Eva and she made a very nice curtsey before going down the steps to Cowgill. Even Hateman had nothing rude to say.

"Now Noddy Ninety's song!" shouted somebody in the crowd.

"Not that old rattling bag of bones!" yelled Hateman.

"Noddy Ninety! Ninety! Ninety! Yes, yes, yes!" came in a chorus from the crowd.

Noddy Ninety, who had an immense striped muffler wound several times round his neck, and his school cap on the back of his head, scampered willingly up the steps. Usually his song is called "At the Gates of Metz", because he says he was born in Germany, and as he is older than anybody else nobody can contradict him. Sometimes he changes the name of the place and this means changing the rhyme that goes with it. He uses a special kind of rhyme which he says he invented himself.

For an old man Noddy Ninety has a strong piercing voice. Every word could be heard above the crackling of the fire.

"On a bitter winter's night

By the gates of ULM

I waited in the fading light

With my fingers NUMB.

Suddenly I heard a voice--

The night was black as PITCH:

'Come up here, you hungry ones,

And share my fish and CHIPS.'

Good old Burgomaster Griff

Fills me up with OATS,

Puddings, ham and bannocks grilled

Slices of hot ROAST.

Yesterday I came this way

Loaded down with ANGST

Now I celebrate the day

Full of joy and THANKS."

The crowd was pleased because, for once, the song ended happily. They sang the last verse over and over, stamping as they sang.

"That went down pretty well, I must say!" said Noddy Ninety when, at last, the singing stopped.

"What does angst mean?" asked Brass. Uncle had asked him to stand near the singers in case the Badfort Crowd tried to throw anything.

"You're not supposed to know what everything means in modern poetry. Didn't you know that?" With these words Noddy Ninety went eagerly off to meet the Old Monkey who was bringing him a flagon of Hot Joey.

Hie last song came from the Respectable Horses, the Misses Anna, Ann and Annette Crunch and their brother Mayhave Crunch, who had come to see them for Christmas. Horses cannot be said to have good voices. They are either neighing and high-pitched or else heavy and dull. But this song had a thudding note that was quite good for marching to.

"The thing that I most like to do When the skies are heavy as lead Is to take in my nose-bag a loaf or two And give my little ones bread.

"Now the chorus, everybody!" neighed Mayhave Crunch.

"Give my little ones bread

Give my little ones bread

Give my little ones HAY and OATS

Give my little ones bread."

After this song was over Uncle blew a whistle and everybody made for the two trees. There was a lot of scuffling and laughter and throwing down of parcels from the branches to relations who couldn't manage to climb up themselves. Lots of the presents were useful ones. There were blankets and screwdrivers, tins of corned beef, preserved ginger, gift tokens to be spent at Cheapman's and so on.

And lots of toys, of course. And even the Badfort Crowd did not take more than one parcel each. Everybody kept an eye on everybody else and they didn't dare to. It was hard work for them to have to behave well for so long, but they managed it because supper came at the end of the evening and they didn't want to be turned out before that.

While they had supper, of ham, turkey, Christmas pudding and mince pies, Cowgill saw that the fire was well stocked with colour-coal, and the great flames of red and blue and orange and green leaped up towards the sky.

"I must say, this is one of the nicest presents I've ever had," said Uncle. "When everybody's gone we'll put a little on the hall fire and have some Hot Joey before we go to bed."

All his friends were so busy helping with the supper that they had very little to eat themselves, but it didn't matter for they had Christmas Day coming up, and that, at Homeward, is a special day indeed.

Uncle knew the party would end in snowballing. It always did, but every year the snowballing starts in a different way.

This year it started quite unexpectedly by Hateman receiving a snowball in his mouth when he had it wide open to receive a mince pie.

"Who did that?" spluttered Hateman. "Come on, who did it?"

Uncle was very much afraid, as supper was nearly over, that the Badfort Crowd would really start something rough and spoil the party, but a respectable-looking old baboon stepped forward and said: "I did it!"

"Oh, so you did it?" snarled Hateman. "Do you know what I do to people who make me swallow snow?"

"Something horrible, I expect," said the old baboon, quite cheerfully.

"You're right!" said Hateman menacingly and started forward.

Uncle decided to step in.

"Come along, now," he said. "This is the season of goodwill. No more wrangling. Have half a dozen more mince pies, Hateman. You dropped that last one in the snow."

Hateman never refuses anything to eat, and by now snowballs were whizzing to and fro. Everybody was enjoying a snowball fight. So the incident was over. But Uncle drew the old baboon aside.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. "You must know Hateman is a dangerous man to insult."

"Oh, yes, I know, but I just don't like the way he puts a whole mince pie in his mouth at once," said the baboon. "I've often wanted to stop him, and I thought for once I would."

"I must say that I applaud your action," said Uncle. "Now tell me, I've been looking at you and I seem to know you."

"Well, I know you, of course."

"I believe when I was a young and needy elephant you helped me.

"It was only a trifle," said the old baboon.

"You gave me," said Uncle firmly, "six large turnips and a huge cabbage. That is not a trifle. I was nearly starving and you gave me a good meal. I got fresh hope, made a new start and I've never looked back."

"My word, you have got on since then!" said the old baboon admiringly.

"Well enough to see you get on all right for the rest of your life," said Uncle. "What's your name, by the way? I'm sorry I never asked it all that long time ago."

"Well, I haven't got any regular name. Most people call me Bab."

"Forgive me for prying into your private affairs, but how are you placed, Bab? Have you a good home and plenty to eat?"

"Times are rather hard, sir," said Bab, "but I manage. A party like this sets me up for weeks."

"From now on, Bab," said Uncle, "you will board and lodge in the Castle of Homeward. You will have a warm and roomy flat. There will be no more trouble over food."

"Oh, thank you, sir," said Bab. "What a happy night this is!"

"It's no more than you deserve," said Uncle. "The Old Monkey will look after you, and I must go and see the party comes to an end without any rough stuff."

Some people loaded their sacks of coal on their toboggans, but most left it to be collected another time. Gradually the snowballs stopped whizzing to and fro, and once more the points of light were seen dotting the hill as people went home across the snow to Badgertown.

By midnight the weather was changing. Clouds blew across the moon, the wind started to rise, and there was snow in the wind.

Inside Homeward the party round the fire ended, and with cheerful greetings and good wishes the friends parted for the night leaving the wind to howl, the snow to fall, and the great fire to smoulder out in the storm.

SEVENTEEN

The Battle for Badgertown

One morning in the New Year Uncle found a cutting from the Badfort News among his letters. It was an ominous paragraph with a shocking headline:

POLICE TAKE UP STEALING

We thought robbery in our neighbourhood was only carried on in a big way by the Magnate of Homeward. Now the Badgertown Police are doing it.

Nobody objects to paying rates if they get value for their money, but Mr Hateman gets no light, no road-mending, no drains and no education from Badgertown. All he gets is bullying from the police. Mr Hateman's only pleasure in life is brewing and drinking the healthful beverage called Black Tom. And now his little store of this precious liquid has been stolen from him by THE POLICE FOR THEMSELVES. They are drinking it in the police station. A new leader is needed in Badgertown. Somebody who will fight for your rights. Watch for him. He is coming soon.

Uncle had two bunches of celery and a large pie before he spoke.

"I need some strengthening," he said to the Old Monkey. "Some more Koolvat, my friend. After his fairly good behaviour at Christmas, I thought Hateman might improve in the New Year, but it seems I was wrong." The telephone rang and the Old Monkey went to answer it. "It is the King of the Badgers, sir," he said. "He sounds very worried."

"We are in great trouble, sir," said the King. "Those miscreants from Badfort have attacked the police station in force. My soldiers are away on New Year manoeuvres and my brave policemen are locked in their own cells! six of them locked in six cells!"

"Locked in their own cells!" Uncle was greatly shocked. "How did that happen?"

"Well, our cells are rarely occupied because we cannot afford to feed prisoners for long periods. You have to be very wicked indeed to get locked up in Badgertown. The rule is to keep the cells clean and the doors open. This morning mysterious hooting and whistling sounds were heard in one cell. A young promising constable went to investigate. He could see nothing, but the mysterious whistling sound went on. The door of the cell he was examining slammed behind him. Unfortunately the cells all have a self-locking mechanism on them. He was a prisoner!"

"But how could this happen six times?" asked Uncle.

"The miscreants had the help of a cunning unseen friend. He acted as a decoy!"

"Ah," said Uncle, "this sounds like Hootman! He's a sort of ghost who is called in by Beaver Hateman when he needs some really tricky work done."

"That must be it. While another constable went to see what the hammering on the cell door was about, this creature you mention must have created a disturbance in the next cell. Another constable went to investigate and was shut in. This happened until there was only one elderly sergeant left on the desk and he was easily overpowered."

"And where is Hateman now?" asked Uncle.

"He has taken the Town Hall and is in the Treasurer's office!" wailed the King. "I fear they will move into my Palace next!"

"I will muster all my followers and weapons and we will come at once," said Uncle.

"Oh, what a relief! I am doing all I can to stiffen the spirits of my people, but it is uphill work with these villains in possession."

Just as Uncle put the receiver down Whitebeard came in looking very gloomy.

"Oh, sir," he said, "my wife is ruining me! Off to Cheapman's every day--with my money!"

"Whitebeard," said Uncle, "I don't want to hear about your wife. We have sterner things on hand. The police station and Town Hall at Badgertown have been occupied by Hateman and his gang. Get busy and collect as many stone clubs as you can. Old Monkey, ring up Captain Walrus and tell him to take the express lift with his man Joe Weasel and all the belaying pins they can carry. Brass, run with this note to Cowgills works and tell him to have the traction engine and the tower-climbing tank ready to start immediately. Goodman, get Cloutman and Gubbins. Lucy, fly over to Badgertown and bring back a report."

"And I'll get first-aid kit ready," said the One-Armed Badger, pattering off quickly.

In a remarkably short time all the inhabitants of Homeward, bristling with weapons and wearing helmets and goggles to protect their eyes from duck-bombs, were ready to start for Badgertown.

Lucy came back with her first scouting report and gave it as they rumbled towards Badgertown.

"Hateman is on the balcony of the Town Hall making a speech," she said. "He says Hitmouse is opening up the safe in the Treasurer's office and he will give all the rate money back to the people. Hundreds of badgers were there listening to him."

"Poor credulous creatures!" said Uncle.

"The Wooden-Legged Donkey is holding the police station with Jellytussle and Sigismund. They've got a big basket of duck-bombs and egg-bombs."

"I shall go for Hitmouse first!" said Brass.

"Remember what happened last time Hitmouse attacked you!" warned Uncle. "It took you days to recover from the poisoned-skewer wounds."

"And remember, if you get hit by a duck-bomb, Brass," said the Old Monkey, "you're no use to anybody!"

Goodman had thought out a helpful plan.

"If you'll drop me at A. B. Fox's office," he said, "I'll tell him what I know about the back way into the Town Hall. He may have some ideas."

"A back way, eh? How do you know about it?" asked Uncle.

"A clerk in the Treasurer's office was one of Wizard Blenkinsop's clients," said Goodman. "He was trying to improve his singing voice. I used to take magic potions to him from the Wizard."

"Well, collect Fox and report to me," said Uncle. "We might be able to attack from the rear."

"Just what I thought, sir," said Goodman.

There was a scene of great confusion in the market square outside the Town Hall. The whole place was crowded with citizens of Badgertown who were in a very excited state.

Hateman, who was wearing a tin helmet and had a large iron fireguard fastened across his chest, was on the balcony of the Town Hall making a shouting speech.

The King of the Badgers was behind his jeep outside Cheapman's Store, with numerous helpers trying to free the wheels from a grey mass of jelly. Whenever Hateman stopped yelling for a moment to take a drink of Black Tom, the stuttering sound of a drill could be heard from behind him in the Town Hall. The sound of the banging on iron doors came constantly from the police station.

The moment the traction engine and the tower-climbing tank rumbled into the market square, Hateman and his helpers started a frenzied attack. Duck-bombs whizzed in an almost continuous hail from windows in the Town Hall and police station, but Cowgill had expected this, and at once lowered spccial tarpaulin covers over the wheels facing the attackers. The duck-bombs mosdy fell against these.

"Get down behind the vehicle!" yelled Cowgill.

All Uncle's followers crouched behind their vehicles while they planned their counter-attack.

"Fly over to Cheapman's and ask for an immediate supply of dustbin lids!" Uncle told Lucy. "They will do as body and head shields. Tell them just to throw them out of the upper windows. We'll collect them."

Hateman was now at screaming pitch as he pointed at the traction engine.

"That great bloated bladder of lard has just rolled up from his castle! Look at him, citizens, but don't despair! One step at a time! Badgertown today! Homeward tomorrow! Forward! Forward! Join me in manning the Town Hall. Don't be afraid! Just run up the steps, and you're in the money! Hear that drill! Only a matter of minutes before we've got our hands on the town's money!"

By now dustbin lids were crashing down from the windows of Cheapman's, and being bowled along the ground to Uncle's party. The noise was so loud that even the drilling was not easy to hear.

Hateman's speech was having a great influence on the simple badgers, who began mounting the steps of the Town Hall, led by a dozen or so of the students from the Chipmunk Academy.

"Hurrah for our young friends!" yelled Hateman. "Free degrees for all! You can all be B.A. and M.A. without effort! That's your right! Down with the bloated tyrants and the silly old King of the Badgers! Join me and rule the place sanely! Up slaves and crush the monster! Share in the share-out! And, as for you, Benjamin Cheapman, you and your dustbin lids! It's you next. In a matter of hours my feet will be under that big show-off desk of yours!"

"Brass," said Uncle, "I am going into the Town Hall myself, and I want you to help me to get there."

"Oh, sir!" said the Old Monkey fearfully.

"Yes, my friend, I must confront that lying man myself. Nothing less will do," said Uncle, pulling a large helmet well down on his head.

"Can I bark, sir?" asked Brass.

"I want you to bark as loudly as you can."

"That will be a treat, sir," said Brass, eagerly. "Anything else?"

"I want you to divert attention from me, by acting as a sheepdog. D'you know how?"

"Yes, by barking and running round the edge of that crowd on the steps, stopping them from going in," said Brass.

"Excellent!" said Uncle. "Ready?"

The Old Monkey had fixed a large saucepan lid over Brass's head, and a sheet of tin-foil over his back in case he was hit by a duck-bomb. Brass rushed up and down the Town Hall steps barking fiercely. The noise was so frightful that everybody cringed back. Round and round he went on the edge of the crowd, always pushing them further and further back from the steps.

Hateman leant right out over the balcony, infuriated by this new move.

"You silly lot of sheep!" he yelled at the confused crowd. "Are you afraid of one little yellow cur! What are a few dog bites compared with freedom! Fight for it! Fight! Come on, you lily-livered lot! Charge, and the place is yours!"

Brass's bark and corralling tactics were so effective that Uncle was able to move swiftly from the shelter of the traction engine to the King of the Badgers' jeep, where he had a few hurried words with the distracted monarch. The King was almost immobilized by rubbery jelly.

"Courage, my friend," said Uncle. "We are few in number, but we have the organizing brains. I propose to go into the Town Hall and deal with Hateman myself."

"Oh, I fear for you!" moaned the King. "If only my soldiers were here! They are few in number but brave fellows!"

"Have you sent for them?"

"Yes. By now they must be within fifty miles or so, but can we hold out so long! The people are being swayed by Hateman! You can see that."

"I shall immobilize Hateman," said Uncle, "and the rest will be easy."

From the jeep, Uncle did a quick run to the door of Cheapman's Store. There he had a narrow escape from being hit by a duck-bomb. It was hurled by Jellytussle from a window of the police station, but the dangerous liquid merely splattered down one of the plate-glass doors of Cheapman's.

Brass's barking grew louder and louder as he saw his master preparing for the last run to the steps of the Town Hall. But even so he didn't manage to stop Hateman from seeing Uncle. Hateman leaned right out over the edge of the balcony as Uncle rushed through the door beneath it.

"Ah! The moment of victory is now at hand! The enemy has been drawn from cover! Listen, citizens, to his screams for mercy! Listen well, and then storm the place and join me in rejoicing!"

Hateman disappeared from the balcony.

Uncle did a tremendous run up the wide staircase inside the Town Hall. When he was half-way up it he received a nasty glancing blow from an egg-bomb hurled at him by Flabskin, who was in the door of the Treasurer's office. Uncle brushed the mass of glue and ink and needles aside and mounted steadily.

"Look out, boss!" yelled Flabskin.

Uncle had expected Hateman to be at the top of the stairs poised to attack him, but he was not there.

Filljug Hateman and Sigismund rushed out of the Treasurer's office and hurled duck-bombs at Uncle. But he had been expecting a further attack, and dodged them by leaping to the top of the stairs as the bombs were thrown.

Then he saw where Hateman was.

He was crouching behind the railed-in square which protected the town's treasures. There was a brilliant light so arranged as to fall on the great golden mace on its bed of red velvet. Ranged round it were the cups and flagons which had been presented to the town by visiting potentates.

"Come and get me!" snarled Hateman. "Come on, you big bully! I'm smaller than you! Come on, don't be afraid, hit me!"

Uncle moved slowly and carefully towards the railed-in space. Hateman still crouched beyond the brass rail, exposing so little of himself that it was difficult for Uncle to hurl the stone club and be sure of hitting him.

When Uncle saw that Hateman did not intend to come out into the open he began to follow him round the brilliant railed-in space. The great glare of the display lights made everything beyond it dim, and Uncle felt clumsy and apprehensive.

From beyond the balcony window came the sound of Brass barking. Through the open door of the Treasurer's office at the other end of the hall came the harsh whine and stutter of Hitmouse's drill.

As Uncle balanced his stone club, Hateman crouched and ran out of sight round the edge of the floodlit area. Uncle followed him determined not to lose sight of him. Round and round the two went, and then it happened.

Hateman suddenly accelerated, and before Uncle could turn he received a staggering blow from behind. It was such a savage blow that he swayed against the brass rail. At once a new and hideous sound drowned everything else-- the barking of Brass, the roar of the drill and the shouts of the crowd. It was the burglar alarm, set off by Uncle's weight swaying against the rail.

Uncle was still chasing Hateman round the railed-in space. He was beginning to gain on him when an egg-bomb hurled by Flabskin made Uncle duck and touch his trunk against the electric fence which ran inside the brass rail.

At once Uncle was transfixed. Up his trunk ran red-hot tingles of electric shock. His trunk seemed fixed to the rail. Hateman, laughing horribly, dashed out to the balcony. "Victory! Victory is in sight. The tyrant is subdued! He's helpless! Tonight the Castle of Homeward is ours!"

Brass, not knowing what had happened, stopped barking.

Uncle, stunned, alone, helpless, began to feel his senses slipping from him--the glare from the railed-in space hurting his eyes. He closed them, and then opened them swiftly. For suddenly the glare had gone. The lights round the town's treasures had gone out. The drill was whining into silence. His painful trunk fell free from the rail. Somebody had turned the power supply off.

Hateman jerked round from the window, his grin of triumph fading. At this moment Uncle seized the great town mace, and with a trumpet of rage brought it down on Hateman's head.

Howling with baffled rage, Hateman collapsed. There was a rush of feet up the stairs and Cloutman, Gubbins, Captain Walrus, Joe Weasel, Whitebeard and Cowgill were all there.

Filljug and Flabskin were overpowered at once, and Hitmouse, who was flinging skewers in a wild attempt to escape capture, was pinned down behind the Treasurer's desk by Cloutman.

The Wooden-Legged Donkey and Jellytussle fled to Badfort as soon as they realized their leader was captured.

To the jeers of the crowd who five minutes earlier had been cheering them, Hateman, Filljug, Flabskin and Hitmouse were led down the Town Hall steps to the police station.

Uncle still felt dizzy and ill, and was glad to be out in the fresh air.

In a sort of dream he heard the shouts of joy and congratulations. He sank into his seat on the traction engine. The One-Armed Badger applied Magic Ointment to his sore and swollen trunk. The Old Monkey poured out Koolvat.

"Somebody turned the power off! That was what saved me!" said Uncle. "Who did it?"

Nobody seemed to know.

But at that moment A. B. Fox and Goodman came pacing modestly side by side across the square.

"It was useful, sir, my knowing the back way into the Town Hall," said Goodman. "I knew where the main switch was, you see. It's in a cupboard near the caretaker's office!"

"We thought we could at any rate stop Hitmouse's drill," said Fox. "Was the move effective in some other way?"

Half a dozen voices told him excitedly what had happened.

"All I can say is," said Uncle, "that I have never felt nearer defeat, and never more thankful to be saved!"

The King of the Badgers, looking more shabby than ever, with tattered remnants of grey jelly sticking to him, came over to say that a number ofleading citizens would like to thank Uncle personally.

"Not today, please," said Uncle. "I still feel somewhat confused and ill. Some wagons of food shall be dispatched for those of you who feel like celebrating, but all I want is to get home. Cowgill, start the traction engine."

All the same, loud cheers and the singing of "Glorious Uncle" accompanied Uncle's departure from the market square.

"Where's Hateman?" asked Uncle, waving and smiling as graciously as he could.

"In one of those cells in the police station guarded by every policeman they've got," said Cowgill. "But they'll never keep him there!"

EIGHTEEN

A Place for the Mace

Two days after the Battle for Badgertown a small procession, led by the King of the Badgers in his limousine, was seen approaching Homeward.

Uncle had quite recovered, and he felt he would enjoy a talk about the great fight.

"Prepare a small mid-morning feast," he said to the Old Monkey. "Just that two-hundredweight cake we have left over from Christmas, plenty of Koolvat, bananas, and ham, and sausages."

Goodman was looking at the procession through field-glasses.

"The King seems to have most of the police with him," he said.

"Most of the police!" said Uncle. "I wonder if that's wise, with Hateman still in the police station!"

"And they've got a long parcel on a tender behind the car," added Goodman.

"They're going to give you a present!" shrieked Lucy.

"Indeed, I hope not!" said Uncle. "The siege will cost the people of Badgertown a lot of money. Buildings to be repaired, and so on. They cannot afford to give presents."

The King of the Badgers, who was nicely brushed up and free of duck-bomb jelly, came into the hall beaming. Two strong young policemen carried the long narrow parcel between them.

"Sir," said the King of the Badgers, "my people wish to show their gratitude, but were somewhat puzzled as to how this could be done because of your great riches. Finally we decided we must give you our most costly emblem. Nothing less would do. As a matter of fact it is not solid gold, but it is our mace. We propose to have a little plate attached to it--sorry this plate isn't made yet but it soon will be--inscribed with the following words--"

The King has his reading glasses fixed to the end of a long black ribbon. This ribbon, at this solemn moment, got tangled up with all the medals on his chest.

The Old Monkey has very small nimble fingers, and he now stepped forward.

"Can I help you, sire?" he said.

"Thanks, my friend," said the King.

When the glasses were at last free the King got a card out of his pocket and read:

" 'With this, our civic emblem, the Master of Homeward struck down an enemy who was defiling our seat of government, Badgertown Town Hall. We wish Uncle long life and happiness and offer him our mace with most sincere thanks.' "

The mace was now handed to Uncle by the two policemen.

Everybody clapped. The Old Monkey was weeping, and Uncle cleared his throat.

"Your Majesty and friends," he said at last, "I shall always treasure this gift, and your beautiful mace shall have an honoured place in my hall. Please give my thanks to all the people of Badgertown."

There was more clapping and then Lucy squawked:

"I'll keep it well dusted, your Majesty. I promise that."

Lucy is splendid at dusting. Everybody laughed, and Uncle asked the Old Monkey to bring in the provisions.

While they were eating, Uncle said privately to the King:

"I am most touched by this gift and I will have it properly fixed by Cowgill on that space above my fireplace. I intend to give you in return a civic present to take the place of the mace. You won't know this, but I recently discovered a Jewel Room in a remote part of my castle. Among the treasures there is an object that I now feel sure is a mace. It is made of gold and silver and is decorated with jewels."

"But, sir," said the King, "our mace is only gilt and brass, and this mace you mention must be of great value!"

"Never mind," said Uncle. "As soon as I can I will go and look for it. You can always raise funds for your people in time of famine or other trouble if you have something made of solid gold to sell."

"You amaze me, sir," said the King. "You think of everything, and on behalf of the citizens of Badgertown I accept it. I am thankful you can now look forward to a little peace after your great fight. How you deserve it!"

At this moment of congratulation and joy Brass barked.

Uncle was astonished. The dog usually has excellent manners, and the noise was frightful.

"Brass!" he thundered.

And then they all knew why Brass had barked.

Outside there was a hideous laugh and something heavy was thrown against the great door.

"Ha, ha! You thought you could keep me in prison, did you! But I'm here, you fat old humbug! I've come for my revenge!"

It was Beaver Hateman.

"Once more, difficulties start," said Uncle, and walked with dignity to the door to confront his old enemy.