Chapter 18 Seventeen Taxi

Two minutes later, we sat safely in a taxi and slowly drove from the bumpy path to the main road. Father was full of pride and excitement.He kept leaning forward, patting Charlie on the shoulder and saying: How is it, Charlie?How is the harvest this time?Charlie kept puffing his eyes and looking back at the big bulging bags.sky!He kept saying it.How did you do it? Danny did it!said the father proudly.My son Danny is number one in the world. Then Charlie said: I don't think there will be too many pheasants at Mr. Hassel's shooting meeting tomorrow, will there be, William? I think so, Charlie.said father.I don't think there will be too many pheasants.

All those rich men, said old Charlie.From miles and miles away in their big shiny car, and there wasn't a single pheasant there to kill them!Charlie started giggling, and then he laughed so hard he nearly drove the car off the path. dad.I said.What on earth are you going to do with so many pheasants? Give it to our friends.said father.Just start by giving Charlie a dozen.okay, charlie? All right, said Charlie.Very good. Then give Dr. Spencer a dozen.to Eno.samway a dozen Don't you mean Officer Samwell?I asked in surprise. certainly.said father.Inspector Samway is one of my old friends.

Ino is a good boy.Charlie said.He is a lovely young man. As far as I know, Ino.Samway is the village policeman.He was a big, fat man with a black beard like steel wool, and he walked up and down the street with that air and gait of knowing he was in charge.The silver buttons on his uniform shone like diamonds, and every time I saw him coming I would run away in terror to the other side of the street. Eno loves grilled pheasant as much as anyone else.said father. I suppose he knew something about pheasant hunting.Charlie said. I was so surprised.But I'm also glad because now that I know the great Officer Eno, like all of us, is human, maybe I won't be so afraid of him in the future.

Are you going to split them up tonight?I asked. Not tonight, Danny.After poaching, you must walk home empty-handed.You never know if Mr. Raibert or one of his cronies will be waiting for us at the front door. Ah, but that Mr. Raibert is cunning.Charlie said.The best way to do this is to pour a pound of sugar into his gas tank when he's not looking so he won't be able to look around your house anymore.We always pour some sugar in the caretaker's tank before we go poaching.I'm surprised you didn't do that, William, especially with an operation of this magnitude. What are you putting sugar for?I asked.

Oops, the sugar glued the inside all over.Charlie said.After putting the sugar in, if you want to start it again, you have to take the whole engine apart.Right, William? Not bad, Charlie.said father. We turned off the lane and onto the main road, and Charlie pulled the old taxi into front gear and headed straight for the village. Are you going to put the birds at Mrs. Clip's tonight?he asks. right.his father told him.Go straight to Mrs. Clip's. Why at Mrs. Clip's?I asked.What does she have to do with it? Clip shared the pheasants among the group.said father.Didn't I tell you?

No, Dad, you didn't tell me.I said, petrified, more amazed than ever.Mrs. Clip was the wife of Mr. Clip, the vicar. You should always remember to choose a respectable woman to share the pheasant for you.announced the father.That's the right thing to do, isn't it, Charlie? Mrs. Clip was a clever woman.Charlie said. I couldn't believe what they were saying.It seemed like everyone in the area had something to do with poaching. The vicar is very fond of roast pheasant for dinner.said father. Who doesn't like it?said Charlie, and started giggling to himself again. Now we drive through the village.The street lights were on, and the man drank a beer and walked home.I saw my principal, Mr. Snoddy, staggering a little, trying to enter quietly through the side door of his house.But he did not see Mrs. Snoddy's frosty face, looking out from the upstairs window at him.

do you know one thing dannysaid father.By putting these pheasants to sleep in such a painless way, we are doing them a great favor.They'll have a better day tomorrow if we don't catch them first. Most of those bird shooters suck.Charlie said.At least half of the birds lost their wings or were injured. The taxi turns left and goes through the door of the pastor's house.There were no lights in the house, and no one saw us.My father and I got out of the car and put the pheasants into the woodshed behind.Then we said goodbye to Charlie and started the two miles home.