'Want to see somethin' amazin'?' As he said this he put his right hand into the deep poacher's pocket of his jacket and brought out a large live rat clasped tight between his fingers.
'Good God!'
'Ah! That's it, y'see!' He was crouching slightly now and craning his neck forward and leering at us and holding this enormous brown rat in his hands, one finger and thumb making a tight circle around the creature's neck, clamping its head rigid so it couldn't turn and bite.
'D'you usually carry rats around in your pockets?'
'Always got a rat or two about me somewhere.' With that he put his free hand into the other pocket and produced a small white ferret.
'Ferret,' he said, holding it up by the neck.
The ferret seemed to know him and stayed still in his grasp.
'There's nothin'll kill a rat quicker'n a ferret. And there's nothin' a rat's more frightened of either.'
He brought his hands close together in front of him so that the ferret's nose was within six inches of the rat's face. The pink beady eyes of the ferret stared at the rat. The rat struggled, trying to edge away from the killer.
'Now,' he said. 'Watch!'
His khaki shirt was open at the neck and he lifted the rat and slipped it down inside his shirt, next to his skin. As soon as his hand was free, he unbuttoned his jacket at the front so that the audience could see the bulge the body of the rat made under his shirt. His belt prevented it from going down lower than his waist.
Then he slipped the ferret in after the rat.
Immediately there was a great commotion inside the shirt. It appeared that the rat was running around the man's body, being chased by the ferret. Six or seven times they went around, the small bulge chasing the larger one, gaining on it slightly each circuit and drawing closer and closer until at last the two bulges seemed to come together and there was a scuffle and a series of shrill shrieks.
Throughout this performance the ratman had stood absolutely still with legs apart, arms hanging loosely, the dark eyes resting on Claud's face. Now he reached one hand down into his shirt and pulled out the ferret; with the other he took out the dead rat. There were traces of blood around the white muzzle of the ferret.
'Not sure I liked that very much.'
'You never seen anythin' like it before, I'll bet you that.'
'Can't really say I have.'
'Like as not you'll get yourself a nasty little nip in the guts one of these days,' Claud told him. But he was clearly impressed, and the ratman was becoming cocky again.
'Want to see somethin' far more amazn'n that?' he asked. 'You want to see somethin' you'd never even believe unless you seen it with your own eyes?'
'Well?'
We were standing in the driveway out in front of the pumps and it was one of those pleasant warm November mornings. Two cars pulled in for petrol, one right after the other, and Claud went over and gave them what they wanted.
'You want to see?' the ratman asked.
I glanced at Claud, slightly apprehensive. 'Yes,' Claud said. 'Come on then, let's see.'
The ratman slipped the dead rat back into one pocket, the ferret into the other. Then he reached down into his knapsack and produced—if you please—a second live rat.
'Good Christ!' Claud said.
'Always got one or two rats about me somewhere,' the man announced calmly. 'You got to know rats on this job, and if you want to know 'em you got to have 'em round you. This is a sewer rat, this is. An old sewer rat, clever as buggery. See him watchin' me all the time, wonderin' what I'm goin' to do? See him?'
'Very unpleasant.'
'What are you going to do?' I asked. I had a feeling I was going to like this one even less than the last.
'Fetch me a piece of string.'
Claud fetched him a piece of string.
With his left hand, the man looped the string around one of the rat's hind legs. The rat struggled, trying to turn its head to see what was going on, but he held it tight around the neck with finger and thumb.
'Now!' he said, looking about him. 'You got a table inside?'
'We don't want the rat inside the house,' I said.
'Well—I need a table. Or somethin' flat like a table.'
'What about the bonnet of that car?' Claud said.
We walked over to the car and the man put the old sewer rat on the bonnet. He attached the string to the windshield wiper so that the rat was now tethered.
At first it crouched, unmoving and suspicious, a big-bodied grey rat with bright black eyes and a scaly tail that lay in a long curl upon the car's bonnet. It was looking away from the ratman, but watching him sideways to see what he was going to do. The man stepped back a few paces and immediately the rat relaxed. It sat up on its haunches and began to lick the grey fur on its chest. Then it scratched its muzzle with both front paws. It seemed quite unconcerned about the three men standing near by.
'Now—how about a little bet?' the ratman asked.
'We don't bet,' I said.
'Just for fun. It's more fun if you bet.'
'What d'you want to bet on?'
'I'll bet you I can kill that rat without usin' my hands. I'll put my hands in my pockets and not use 'em.'
'You'll kick it with your feet,' Claud said.
It was apparent that the ratman was out to earn some money. I looked at the rat that was going to be killed and began to feel slightly sick, not so much because it was going to be killed but because it was going to be killed in a special way, with a considerable degree of relish.
'No,' the ratman said. 'No feet.'
'Nor arms?' Claud asked.
'Nor arms. Nor legs, nor hands neither.'
'You'll sit on it.'
'No. No squashin'.'
'Let's see you do it.'
'You bet me first. Bet me a quid.'
'Don't be so bloody daft,' Claud said. 'Why should we give you a quid?'
'What'll you bet?'
'Nothin'.'
'All right. Then it's no go.'
He made as if to untie the string from the windshield wiper.
'I'll bet you a shilling,' Claud told him. The sick gastric sensation in my stomach was increasing, but there was an awful magnetism about this business and I found myself quite unable to walk away or even move.
'You too?'
'No,' I said.
'What's the matter with you?' the ratman asked.
'I just don't want to bet you, that's all.'
'So you want me to do this for a lousy shillin'?'
'I don't want you to do it.'
'Where's the money?' he said to Claud.
Claud put a shilling piece on the bonnet, near the radiator. The ratman produced two sixpences and laid them beside Claud's money. As he stretched out his hand to do this, the rat cringed, drawing its head back and flattening itself against the bonnet.
'Bet's on,' the ratman said.
Claud and I stepped back a few paces. The ratman stepped forward. He put his hands in his pockets and inclined his body from the waist so that his face was on a level with the rat, about three feet away.
His eyes caught the eyes of the rat and held them. The rat was crouching, very tense, sensing extreme
