Part III Chapter 7 Doctor Dolittle and the Green Canary by Hugh Lofting
The Secret Hiding Place
The attic of the old mill was filled with every conceivable kind of rubbish. Bundles of old newspapers were piled on top of broken furniture; cobwebs had gathered on dilapidated trunks and boxes and discarded clothing lay in heaps of dust and dirt, their threads chewed and crumbled by a hundred generations of moths and beetles.
'It's obvious no one has been up here for a long time.' said the Doctor, lighting another match. 'This dust hasn't been disturbed since these things were put here.'
However, the Doctor crawled around on his hands and knees and peered into every corner. When they came down and after the Doctor had taken a candle out of his little black bag (for now they could barely see a foot ahead of them, the night was so black) they went round to the back of the mill to examine the outhouses.
Here they had no better success. The ruined buildings contained nothing more than junk, lumber and odd parts of mill machinery.
'Humph!' muttered the Doctor as they started back for the kitchen. 'I think you must be mistaken, Jip—although, goodness knows, you very seldom are in these funny notions of yours. If we could find some life in the place, rats, mice, squirrels—any kind of animals—I could question them and get some information. Listen, Steve, you are sure there is no cellar to the place?
'There was none when I was here,' said Steve. 'Of that I'm sure.'
On reaching the kitchen they found it quite dark inside. For more light the Doctor was about to open his bag and get a second candle when he discovered to his astonishment that it was no longer on the table.
'That's curious!' he muttered. 'I could have sworn I left the bag on the table.'
'So could I,' said Jip. 'But look, there it is on the chair.'
'And it has been opened,' said the Doctor, going towards it. 'I'm certain that I latched it when I left the kitchen.'
The Doctor opened the bag and looked inside.
'Why, somebody's been through it!' he whispered in astonishment. 'Everything's here, all right. But it's all topsy–turvy inside. It has been searched while we were out!'
For a moment the Doctor and the dog gazed at one another in silence. Finally John Dolittle whispered:
'You're right, Jip. There's someone in the house. But where?'
Slowly the Doctor looked around the walls.
'If only I could find some animal life,' he murmured.
'Sh!' said Jip. 'Listen!'
All four of them kept still. And presently, faintly but quite plainly, they heard a curious little fluttering, rustling sound.
'Look!' said Jip, pointing his sharp nose up at the ceiling. 'The bats! They're just waking up with the coming of dark.'
The Doctor looked up. And there, from a beam across the ceiling, hung two little bats. Fitfully and sleepily they stirred their wings, making ready to start out on their night rounds. They were the only living things that John Dolittle had seen since he had entered the mill.
'Dear me!' he said. 'Why didn't I think of that before? Bats—of course! Nobody could poison them off without first poisoning the flies. Well, I must see what they can tell us.'
The odd furry creatures were now circling around the room, their queer shapes throwing strange shadows on the wall in the dim light of the candle.
'Listen,' said the Doctor in bat language (it was a very strange language and consisted mostly of high needle–like squeaks, so faint that they could scarcely be heard by the ordinary ear). 'I have several things I would like to ask you. First of all, is this house occupied?'
'Oh, yes,' said the bats, still flying around in endless circles. 'Someone has been living here off and on for ever so long.'
'Is there anyone here now?' asked the Doctor.
'Most likely,' said they. 'He was here last night. But, of course, during the daytime we sleep. He may have gone away.'
'What can you tell me about this hole?' asked the Doctor, pointing to the floor.
'That was where the man beside you kept his papers,' said the bats.
'Yes, I know that,' said John Dolittle. 'But the papers were stolen or something during his absence. Did you see anything of that?'
'It was a very complicated, mixed–up business,' squeaked the bats. 'But, as it happened, we saw it all, because, although the papers changed hands three times, it all took place in the evening or night, and we were awake and watching.'
'The papers changed hands three times!' cried the Doctor. 'Good heaven! Go on, go on! Who took them first?'
'The badger,' said the bats. 'He used to live outside, but he thought he'd like to come inside for the winter. So he started making a tunnel from the outside. We watched him. He bored right down and came up in the middle of the floor. But the flagging stones were too heavy for him to lift and he could get no further. However, one evening a man came and made his home here. Then about a week afterwards two more men came. The man who was living here hid himself. The two newcomers hunted and hunted as though they were looking for something. At last they started taking up the stones of the floor and they found that hole and got the cover of it pried half–way up. But just at that moment the farmer who owns this place came to the mill with one of his helpers. The men in the kitchen only just had time to scuttle away, leaving the hole as it was. It was the funniest thing. You'd think it was some new kind of hide–and–seek game. The farmer did some bolting and hammering up—he didn't come inside the kitchen—and then he left. Very soon we saw the badger's nose appear at the half–opened stone, trying to get up into the kitchen and scratching away like everything. But soon he was disturbed, because the first man—the one who had been living here all the time—appeared again and pulled the stone right up and laid it down as you see it now. But the badger, who had been working underneath, had thrown earth all over the papers and you couldn't see anything inside but dirt. So the man just left the hole the way it was and set about preparing his supper. And all the time the papers were still lying underneath.
'There the paper would have stayed awhile,' the bats went on, 'if the badger hadn't late that night, when the man was sleeping, again started poking about in the hole. He had made up his mind, it seemed, to have that hole for a home, and the first thing he did was to throw the papers out on to the floor of the kitchen. And there the papers lay for anyone to pick up. We supposed,' said the bat, 'the man who was staying here would find them in the morning and keep them. But the other two fellows came back about an hour after he had gone to sleep. However, he heard them coming and woke up. Then he hid himself and watched. The other two did not, of course, know there was anyone staying at the mill.
'And as soon as they felt sure the farmer had gone for the night they entered the kitchen, lit candles and made themselves at home. And there, the first thing they saw, was the papers they had been looking for, lying on the floor, as large as life. They put them on the table and started going through them. After a while one of them went out to investigate a noise they heard and while he was gone he must have fallen and hurt himself, for he suddenly called to his partner, who left the papers and hurriedly ran out to join him. Then, while they were both gone, the man who was living here sneaked out, took the papers and hid himself again.
'When the two came back they didn't know what to make of it. Finally they decided the mill must be occupied. And, drawing pistols out of their pockets, they went hunting around the place, looking for the man who had taken the papers. But they never found him, and finally, about dawn, when we were thinking of going to bed, they departed in disgust and never showed up again.'
'And they left the papers then in the hands of the man who still occupies the mill?' the Doctor asked.
'Yes,' said the bats, 'so far as we know, he has them still.''
'Good heavens!' muttered the Doctor. 'What an extraordinary story.'
And, turning, he translated what the bats had told him to Steve. Meanwhile the odd creatures went on wheeling in silent circles about the dim–lit room, as though playing a game of touch with their shadows on the walls.
'Splendid!' whispered Steve, when the Doctor finished. 'Then we may rescue them yet.'
John Dolittle turned back to the bats.
'And you never found out where the man hides himself?' he asked.
'Why, certainly,' said the bats. 'He hides himself in the cellar. He's probably there now.'
'But I understood there was no cellar,' said the Doctor, gazing down into the hole in the floor. 'This gentleman with me lived here for years, and he says he never found one.'
'No,' said the bats, 'no one would find it except by chance. There's a secret passage to it. The man who lives there blundered on it by accident. It isn't under the part of the floor where the hole is at all. It's under the other half of the kitchen. Listen; you see that big white stone in the wall over there at about the height of a man's head? well, you push it at the lower left–hand corner and it will swing inward, showing a passage. Then if you stand on a chair and crawl into a hole you'll find a stairway leading downwards on your left, built inside the wall.'
Again the Doctor translated to Steve. And the window–cleaner got so excited he was all for getting a chair and staring right away. But the Doctor held up his hand.
'We've got to go slowly,' he whispered. 'We don't know yet whether this man has the paper on him. Wait, now. This needs thinking out.'
In whispers, then, the Doctor and Steve worked out a plan of action while the bats went on circling around the guttering candles. Under the table Jip, with ears cocked, sat tense and still, listening for sounds from beneath the floor.
'It is most important,' said the Doctor, 'not to alarm the man before we are certain where he has those papers. Because, once he knows what we're after, you may be sure he'll never let us get a glimpse of them.'
'Quite right,' whispered Steve. 'Certainly he realizes their value. I imagine his idea is to blackmail the agents of the government who came her for them and sell them to them, if he gets a chance. I have no notion who he can be; just some chances shady character, I fancy, who has blundered into this by accident and hopes to make some money out of it. What plan would you suggest?'
'Let us pretend that we are leaving the mill altogether.' said the Doctor. 'I don't think he can have any idea yet what we're after. Then we'll come back and watch. If we have luck he may go to the place where he has hidden the papers and give the show away. Then we'll have to rush him and hope to overpower him before he destroys them.'
'Your idea is good,' said Steve gravely, 'Could we overlook the kitchen from the window, do you think?'
'Quite easily,' said the Doctor. 'But we must be terribly careful that he does not see us or get suspicious. We will begin by noisily making preparation for our departure. When we are outside we can settle other details.'