Catweazle

Where’s the monkey?’
    ‘Dost
mean the sorcerer?’ said Catweazle.
    ‘Did
you let it out?’
    Catweazle
stared blankly at Carrot and then as he heard voices approaching he ran over to
the garden door, snatched up his robe and ran off through the rhododendron
bushes.
    Colonel
Upshaw came into the conservatory carrying the monkey.
    ‘He was
behind my chair, all the time, Teddy. Must’ve got out again,’ he whispered.
‘Hullo, where’s Wheeler?’
    Mr
Bennet joined them, and although they looked all over the garden they couldn’t
find the explorer. The colonel was about to contact the police when Miss Coote
came up to tell him that Mr Wheeler had just phoned. He was sorry he was unable
to come down and hoped he had not caused too much inconvenience.
    ‘You’re
the mystery man, as far as Colonel Upshaw is concerned,’ said Carrot, sitting
with Catweazle in the candle-lit water tank later that night.
    ‘I will
not seek other magicians,’ said Catweazle guiltily. ‘I will not steal thy
strange birds.’
    ‘Good,’
said Carrot, who had heard the whole story of his transformation and was not
going to spoil things by explaining.
    ‘I will
not enchant thee again, I swear it,’ said Catweazle in an agony of repentance.
    ‘And no
more monkey business?’ said Carrot.

12
     

THE FLYING BROOMSTICKS
     
    It had been another busy day at the farm. Sam and Carrot
had spent the morning transferring the latest batch of young turkeys from the
tier brooders to the large specially heated sheds, and now everyone was hard at
work on the orchard. Carrot and his father were loading the final baskets of
apples on to the trailer when Sam, who had lit a bonfire to burn all the
rubbish, accidentally set fire to his broom.
    ‘Darn
the thing,’ he muttered as he hastily beat it out.
    ‘Better
damp that fire down,’ said Mr Bennet. ‘It’s not safe.’
    Sam did
as he said and then swung himself on to the tractor. Carrot sat on the back of the
trailer, and Mr Bennet watched as Sam drove carefully out of the gate. Then he
picked up an apple, checked that the bonfire was safe, and prepared to follow
them on foot.
    A blue
and white Panda car drew up as Mr Bennet reached the gate with Winston.
    ‘ ’Exwood
Farm?’ called a rather pasty-faced police sergeant, eyeing the dog nervously.
    Mr
Bennet nodded, his mouth full of apple.
    ‘Are
you Mr Bennet?’
    ‘That’s
right,’ said Mr Bennet, swallowing hastily.
    ‘I’ve
taken over from Sergeant Fulton,’ explained the policeman, ‘I’m new to the
district, you see, sir. They sent me down here for a bit of a rest. I’ve bin
over-doin’ it a bit.’
    He got
out of the car and straightened his uniform.
    ‘My
name’s Bottle, sir. Unfortunate name, isn’t it? Wide open to ridicule. However,
there it is,’
    Suddenly,
Sergeant Bottle spotted the burnt broom and he picked it up, carefully wrapping
a handkerchief round it.
    ‘They’ve
struck again,’ he muttered.
    ‘I beg
your pardon?’ said Mr Bennet.
    ‘Look
at that, Mr Bennet, sir. Examine it. Do you notice anything peculiar about it?’
    ‘Well,
it’s been burnt,’ said Mr Bennet.
    ‘Exactly,’
said Sergeant Bottle. ‘Burnt!’ He sniffed at the broom. ‘Recently burnt. This
’ere broom may be the vital link, especially if I can find out who burnt it.’
    ‘Well,
I can tell you that,’ said Mr Bennet. ‘My foreman burnt it.’
    ‘Did he
now, Mr Bennet,’ said Bottle dramatically.
    ‘Look,
what’s all this about?’ asked Mr Bennet, who had never met a policeman quite
like Bottle before.
    ‘Well sir,
it’s a mysterious business. Not the sort of case I’m used to - comin’ from the
metropolis.’
    ‘Perhaps
you’d better come round to the farmhouse,’ said Mr Bennet.
    Bottle
opened the car door. ‘ ’Op in, sir,’ he said, putting the burnt broomstick in
the back.
    Carrot
and Sam were beginning to store the freshly picked apples in the loft, when the
police car drove into the yard.
    ‘Bet
he’s after me,’ muttered Sam.
    ‘What
for?’ asked Carrot.
    ‘Old
Fulton would’ve just reminded me, but I don’t know about this new feller. It’s
the car, you see. It ain’t taxed. They were lookin’ at her outside the market
yesterday.’
    ‘Think
they’ll summons you?’ said Carrot.
    ‘I
dunno,’ said Sam gloomily. ‘I hope mother doesn’t find out.’
    As they
watched, the two men below them passed Apollo Twelve and went into the barn.
    Sergeant
Bottle looked carefully round and