بخش 12

CHAPTER 22

TUBBY TED’S DISCOVERY

TUBBY TED HAD EATEN three bananas for breakfast, after first eating two coconuts, a mango, and something that looked and tasted a lot like bread, which the Mollusks made out of seeds and pounded grass. They were nice enough to drop a couple loaves by each day, to keep the boys from starving to death.

Tubby Ted was in no danger of that. He was more in danger of bursting. But he decided that what he needed was another three, or perhaps another five, bananas. The boys had eaten all the ripe ones from the trees near their hut, so Ted wandered off into the jungle a ways, until he spotted a tree with a nice-looking bunch. He was searching for a stick to knock them down with when…

WHOOMP!

Suddenly, Ted was not standing: he was sitting on the ground. And one of his legs was missing. The left one, to be precise. This was very upsetting for a moment, until Ted realized that he could still feel the leg, but it had gone into the ground somehow.

Quicksand! he thought. The Mollusks had warned the boys that there was quicksand on the island; that it would trap a person and slowly suck him under. The boys had asked why, if it acted slowly, was it called quicksand. The Mollusks had replied that, as far as they were concerned, most English names for things were silly. The word that they used for quicksand was a deep grunt that translated roughly to “uh-oh.”

But this was not quicksand: when Tubby Ted wiggled his left foot, it moved freely, and it wasn’t wet. He tried to pull it free, to stand up, but could not. So he started to dig. But as he dug, to his surprise, most of the dirt didn’t come up in his hand: instead, it disappeared, falling away down into the hole with his leg.

In a few moments, Ted had the hole large enough to pull his leg free. The hole was big enough for Ted to stick his head down and take a look inside. Thus, when James came along, searching for his missing friend, he saw only the backside of Tubby Ted sticking up, like a plump ostrich in shorts.

“What are you doing?” James called out.

Tubby Ted pulled his head out, clumps of dirt sticking to his hair, his sweaty face smeared with dirt and mud. A bright orange-and-green three-inch centipede dangled from his left ear, like an earring.

“Oh, hullo, James,” said Ted. “I was looking for bananas.”

“Under the ground?” said James, reaching out and batting away the centipede.

“No, I was going to get them from up there”—he pointed up at the bananas—“and I fell into this hole here.” He pointed down. “So then I looked into it and I found a much bigger hole. A very big hole. It has lava walls and a dirt floor.”

“Really?” said James. He stuck his head into the hole, looked around, then pulled his head out, his eyes wide.

“That is a very big hole,” he said.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“More like a small cave than a big hole.”

“Much more like it.” Tubby Ted was proud of his discovery, though he had no idea why James seemed so impressed.

James stuck his head down inside again, then looked back up at Tubby Ted. “Do you know what you just found, Tubby Ted?” he said.

“I do, James. I absolutely do!”

“What?”

Tubby Ted’s face fell. “I’m not exactly sure. I thought you were going to tell me.”

“I will,” James said, turning and trotting back toward the hut. “But we have to tell the others!”

“Tell them what?” said Tubby Ted.

“We have work to do!” said James, now almost out of sight.

Ted took one last longing glance up at his banana bunch. Then he started trotting after James, wondering what, exactly, he had found. CHAPTER 23

A SECOND VISIT

MOLLY DIDN’T KNOW WHY she awoke. It was late at night. Her room was dark and cold, the fire only dead ash now.

She lay in her bed, listening: the house was still.

But something had awakened her.

She rose from her bed and padded in bare, cold feet to her window. Looking out, she first saw only blackness, and then the faint glowing sphere of the gas lamp on the street, fighting its lonely, losing battle to illuminate the all-enshrouding fog. She looked left and, by straining her eyes, could just make out the large, reassuring form of Mr. Cadigan at his usual nighttime post at the end of the front walk.

Then she looked to the right, past the streetlight, and gasped as she saw two shapes emerge from the fog. They were illuminated only for a moment, but that was enough for her to see that it was the same Metropolitan police officer who had walked by earlier that evening. With him was a man Molly didn’t recognize—tall and thin, like the bobby, but apparently a civilian; he wore an overcoat and top hat, not the frock coat and domed helmet of the Metropolitan Police. Molly did not get a good look at his face, but he had the bearing of a gentleman.

Odd, thought Molly. Why is that man with the bobby? And why is the bobby coming by so late?

Straining to see through the swirling fog, she watched the two men approach Mr. Cadigan, who was also keeping an eye on them. They passed directly in front of him, but neither of them looked at him, which also struck Molly as odd. Not even so much as a nod. Not terribly friendly, she thought. She saw Mr. Cadigan’s head turn and follow as he watched them pass; he kept looking in their direction until they vanished into the fog.

Molly watched out the window a bit longer but saw nothing except gloom and dark. Finally, shivering, she slipped back into bed and snuggled under the comforter. She thought about the bobby and the man with him. She pondered whether she had reason to be troubled by this. Was she just being a scared little goose? After all, there were thousands of bobbies in London. Why should she be surprised to see an unfamiliar one walk past her house?

But why had he made a second visit? Why had he looked at her house earlier in the day? And why was he with a gentleman so late at night?

She thought about sharing these concerns with her mother. But then she remembered her mother’s words to her earlier in the day: We must be brave.

Molly decided she was being a little goose, letting her fears run away with her mind. She would force herself to be brave. She wouldn’t say anything about it. No reason to make trouble where there was none.

And so, after some tossing about, Molly went back to sleep.