"How far do you think they'd get then if they went overland," asked Ziggy, "with a solid line of Rumbles from Merton to the River Thames?"
Rasher shoved his face up to Knocker's and tilted it sideways. "If your blokes are so good, why are you making excuses? Can't they do it?"
"It's a question of time, training," spluttered Knocker.
Spiff nodded. "Just so, you'll get an extra day for boat training and rowing."
"But we haven't got a boat," said Knocker, looking at all three of the stewards as if they were mad.
"Oh, you'll need a boat," said Spiff, "to row up the river. You'll need one before then to train in, won't yer?"
"Where can we get one?" asked Dodger, looking distraught.
Spiff turned on him angrily. "You're a Borrible, ain't yer? Steal one—this afternoon—instead of kipping."
"Yes," said Ziggy. "Let's see how good this team is. But I tell you, if you can't get over this little problem I shall use all my influence to see that the adventure is cancelled. I've never liked it you know."
Spiff laughed. "Don't take any notice of him. I know you'll manage, Knocker. You just prove to us that your blokes are as good as you say they are, eh?" And with that the three stewards climbed up the wall on the exercise bars and one by one they disappeared through the narrow windows that led to Rowena Crescent.
Knocker was shaking with temper as he watched them go. He had a tendency to take things seriously at the best of times but this criticism of his team and his training of them was a personal insult.
"Just like that, eh?" he said to Dodger. "Get a boat, steal it, launch it, learn to row it, just like that!"
"And only today and tomorrow to do it in," said Dodger soberly.
Knocker walked over to where the Eight were waiting, propped up on their elbows, their interest aroused by the discussion. "Well," he said, "no rest for the wicked. Get your hats on, I'm taking you to the lake in Battersea Park. We're going to steal a boat."
Only one person amongst the Eight registered enthusiasm. Napoleon's dark face became brilliant. He stood up and said, "A boat, eh? That's good, know about boats we do, up the Wandle."
Knocker was relieved. Of course, the Wandsworth Borribles lived on or near water all the time. Napoleon could be a great help. "We're going to have to steal a boat that can make the river trip along the Thames as far as the mouth of the Wandle. Napoleon, can you teach this team how to row and steer?"
"Why, of course, Knocker," said Napoleon, with a slight sneer colouring his voice. "It'll be a pleasure."
One by one they slipped from the gym and went their separate ways to the Park. They reassembled by the huge iron gates and walked along the roadway till they arrived at the boating lake. Each Borrible had his hat well down over his ears, a catapult under his jumper and a few stones ready in a pocket, just in case.
Knocker felt sad, for soon the Eight would be gone. What an adventure it would be for them. What times they would have; but he, Knocker, would be left behind and forgotten. He had worried about it every day but think as he might he could see no way at all by which he could wangle his inclusion in the team that would set off on the perilous journey to Rumbledom. He shook the desire from his mind, it was no use thinking about it.
It was not long before he and the others came in sight of the small wooden hut where tickets were sold to those who wished to spend an hour boating. The high summer season was nearly over and most of the boats were chained to one of the islands in the middle of the lake out of harm's way. Only about a dozen or so were roped to the little jetty which stood near the ticket-office. Inside the wooden shed was a park-keeper with a brown suit and a dark brown hat. He was licking a pencil and writing with it slowly in a big book. Not one boat moved on the flat surface of the water. Knocker and the others sat down by the edge of a path to watch. After a while Knocker said, "What do you think of the boats, Napoleon?"
"We're a bit far away to judge," said the Wendle, "but you see they've got some metal ones there, by the jetty." His voice changed when he talked about boats. He became excited and his face shone, while his companions looked terrified. Borribles tend to dislike water even more than they dislike woods and fields. "They aren't really any good for a river trip, too short and wide, unstable, and not big enough anyway to take eight of us. Those are the ones we want." He pointed out to the islands and the others could see that amongst the scores of metal boats were a few old long ones, built of wood with seats and cushions and rudders that were worked by two pieces of rope. They were much bigger.
"Lovely, graceful things they are," said Napoleon enthusiastically, "low in the water, they will float over any wave or wash cast up by barges on the river. Four rowlocks, I should think, two teams of rowers . . . if the girls are up to it." He looked behind him at Chalotte and Sydney. Chalotte said, "Get your boat first, Wen-die."
"Take it easy," said Knocker, stopping any quarrel before it started." If we want one of those wooden boats from the island we'll have to get out there. Any ideas?"
"Too far to swim," said Vulgarian, whom they all called Vulge now.
"And he won't hire us one because we're too small," said Sydney, "even if we had the money—which we haven't."
"So we'll have to pinch a metal boat to get out there," added Stonks.
"Yeah—but have you noticed," said Torreycanyon, "that they keep the oars separate, only hand 'em out with the boats, don't they? And worse, the boats tied to the island ain't got no oars at all."
There was silence. Knocker waited; this was all part of their training. He knew what he would have done; the situation obviously called for diversionary tactics of some kind. Someone would have to entice the keeper out of the little shed so that others could dash in and get some oars. Something like that was necessary.
Suddenly Napoleon Boot stood up." Look," he said, "boats is my speciality, why don't you let me do it?"
"All right," said Knocker, "who do you want to take with you?"
"I want to do this one on my own."
"On your own!" cried Vulge. "I'd like to see it."
"You will," answered Napoleon. "You will."
"Well, it better be good," said the chief lookout. "We haven't got time to waste."
"Just after nightfall tonight you will have your pick of the boats," said Napoleon scornfully, "and you'll be able to row this lot of sailors up and down till their arms drop off. How's that?"
"That'll do me fine, Napoleon Boot," said Knocker grimly.
Napoleon left them and went down the path towards the little hut on the jetty. He swaggered as he walked. The others retreated and screened themselves in some bushes. When they were settled Orococco said, "That Napoleon may smell a little but I betcha there's no flies on him."
They watched the Wendle strut towards the wooden shed. At the end of the jetty he halted, pulled his hat down over his ears and then walked straight on past.
"What's the little bleeder up to now?" asked Dodger of no one in particular, and he got no answer.
When Napoleon was small in the distance he suddenly turned and ran as fast as he could back towards the hut. He dashed to the ticket-office, threw open its door, and jumping up and down he yelled at the keeper inside. What he said the watchers could not imagine but they could see that Napoleon was very agitated. The keeper listened attentively, then he got up quickly from his stool and came out onto the jetty, pausing only to lock the door of his hut.
"That's no good," groaned Bingo, "we can't get in there now."
The keeper threw two oars into the nearest boat, picked up the tiny Napoleon and jumped aboard. The boat rocked and swayed dangerously but it did not capsize, and Napoleon seemed quite happy sitting in the stern as the keeper set the oars in the rowlocks and plyed them expertly. The little craft shot out onto the lake heading for the larger of the two islands where the unused boats were tied along the shore in rows.
Knocker looked at Dodger and shook his head. "Blessed if I know what he's at," he said. Dodger shrugged his shoulders. The boat neared the island but before it touched the shore they could see that Napoleon had got to his feet. Then the boat hit the bank, stopping abruptly, and the Wendle was shot off his feet and into the water.
Torreycanyon roared with laughter. "Cocky little stinker's fallen in," he guffawed. The others laughed too.
"Shaddup," snarled Knocker.
The park-keeper stepped into the water, wetting his trousers to the waist, and rescued Napoleon, placing the Borrible in the boat and wrapping him in a rug that he took from the bench. Then he tied the boat to a branch and wagging his finger at Napoleon he disappeared into the island's vegetation. No sooner had he gone than the watchers were amazed to see Napoleon leap up, untie the painter and row for the shore, and could that boy row! He was small but he made that boat into a living thing and it flew across the lake like a kingfisher. Knocker looked at the faces around him, jaws were open and eyes were wide.
Napoleon jumped onto the jetty and without bothering to moor the boat he ran along the wooden planking to the path and darted into a telephone box that stood empty nearby. The Borribles saw him climb up a couple of the broken window panes to reach the receiver more easily and he made a call. That done he raced off at top speed to be lost amongst some trees about half a mile away. For a while nothing happened and the watchers in the bushes stirred uneasily.