The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

ever cost only a penny.
    'Play "Robbery with Violence", kid,' said Maurice, quietly.
    'Couldn't we just give him money?' said the voice of Peaches. It was a little voice.
    'Money is for people to give us ,' said Maurice, sternly.
    Above them, they heard the scrape of the case on the roof of the coach as the highwayman dragged it down.
    The boy obediently picked up the flute and played a few notes. Now there were a number of sounds. There was a creak, a thud, a sort of scuffling noise and then a very short scream.
    When there was silence, Maurice climbed back onto the seat and poked his head out of the coach, into the dark and rainy night. 'Good man,' he said. 'Sensible. The more you struggle, the harder they bite. Prob'ly not broken skin yet? Good. Come forward a bit so I can see you. But carefully, eh? We don't want anyone to panic, do we?'
    The highwayman reappeared in the light of the coach lamps. He was walking very slowly and carefully, his legs spread wide apart. And he was quietly whimpering.
    'Ah, there you are,' said Maurice, cheerfully. 'Went straight up your trouser legs, did they? Typical rat trick. Just nod, 'cos we don't want to set 'em off. No tellin' where it might end.'
    The highwayman nodded very slowly. Then his eyes narrowed. 'You're a cat ?' he mumbled. Then his eyes crossed and he gasped.
    'Did I say talk?' said Maurice. 'I don't think I said talk, did I? Did the coachman run away or did you kill him?' The man's face went blank. 'Ah, quick learner, I like that in a highwayman,' said Maurice. 'You can answer that question.'
    'Ran away,' said the highwayman hoarsely.
    Maurice stuck his head back inside the coach. 'Whadja think?' he said. 'Coach, four horses, probably some valuables in the mail-bags… could be, oh, a thousand dollars or more. The kid could drive it. Worth a try?'
    'That's stealing, Maurice,' said Peaches. She was sitting on the seat beside the kid. She was a rat.
    'Not stealing as such,' said Maurice. 'More… findin' . The driver's run away, so it's like… salvage. Hey, that's right, we could turn it in for the reward. That's much better. Legal, too. Shall we?'
    'People would ask too many questions,' said Peaches.
    'If we just leave it, someone yawlp will steal it,' wailed Maurice. 'Some thief will take it away! Much better if we take it, eh? We're not thieves.'
    'We will leave it, Maurice,' said Peaches.
    'In that case, let's steal the highwayman's horse,' said Maurice, as if the night wouldn't be properly finished unless they stole something . 'Stealing from a thief isn't stealing, 'cos it cancels out.'
    'We can't stay here all night,' said the kid to Peaches. 'He's got a point.'
    'That's right!' said the highwayman urgently. 'You can't stay here all night!'
    'That's right,' said a chorus of voices from his trousers, 'we can't stay here all night!'
    Maurice sighed, and stuck his head out of the window again. 'O-K,' he said. 'This is what we're going to do. You're going to stand very still looking straight in front of you, and you won't try any tricks because if you do I've only got to say the word-'
    'Don't say the word!' said the highwayman even more urgently.
    'Right,' said Maurice, 'and we'll take your horse as a punishment and you can have the coach because that'd be stealing and only thieves are allowed to steal. Fair enough?'
    'Anything you say!' said the highwayman, then he thought about this and added hurriedly, 'But please don't say anything !' He kept staring straight ahead. He saw the boy and the cat get out of the coach. He heard various sounds behind him as they took his horse. And he thought about his sword. All right, he was going to get a whole mail coach out of this deal, but there was such a thing as professional pride.
    'All right,' said the voice of the cat after a while. 'We're all going to leave now, and you've got to promise not to move until we're gone. Promise?'
    'You have my word as a thief,' said the highwayman, slowly lowering a hand to his sword.
    'Right. We certainly trust you,' said the voice of the cat.
    The man felt his trousers lighten as the rats poured out and scampered away, and he heard the jingle of harness. He waited a moment, then spun around, drew his sword and ran forward.
    Slightly forward, in any case. He wouldn't have hit the ground so hard if someone hadn't tied his bootlaces together.
    They said he was amazing. The Amazing Maurice, they said. He'd never meant to be amazing. It had just happened.
    He'd realized something was odd