Basil and the Pygmy Cats
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By Eve Titus
Illustrated by Paul Galdone

(c) 1971 by Eve Titus and Paul Galdone

5
The Mob Marches!
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Gently Basil pushed against the panel. It swung inward, revealing a spacious room, luxuriously furnished. And luck was with us again--there, seated at a desk, head bowed in deep despair, was our good friend the Maharajah.

Noiselessly we slid into the room. Then Basil sauntered over to the desk and said, "The Maharajah of Bengistan, I presume?"

Our friend looked up, and with a glad cry sprang from his chair.

"I had a premonition that you would come, Basil. Many's the scrape you rescued me from in our college days! But how on earth did you get here?"

Our story was soon told, and the Maharajah said, "Bless the mouse who built that secret panel, whoever he was! I never knew the panel existed. Now we must act fast--the Professor is in the music-salon listening to Relda sing, as he does each afternoon at five."

"Mlle. Relda--here?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes, Dawson. She was giving a song recital in the palace when Ratigan took over, and became his prisoner. He is passionately fond of opera, and so she has to sing arias for him every day. At first she refused, but two days without any food made her change her mind."

"That beast!" said Basil grimly. "Now I've another score to settle with the Professor, for he knows how we all adore the lovely singer. If he has harmed one hair of her head, I'll--"

"Less words and more action," said the Maharajah quietly, and Basil agreed.

He fitted a master key to the lock of a great oaken door, and quickly opened it.

Stealthily we entered the music-salon through the back door. The lovely Relda stood on a small stage at the front, singing the Mad Scene from Lucia di Lammermoor. Ratigan sat listening, so entranced by the clear, soaring soprano voice that we took him completely by surprise, and bound and gagged him.

Relda was overcome by joy, and thanked us over and over again.

Then Basil addressed the Professor, saying, "Turn-about is fair play, Ratigan. You rule no more! In fact, my dear ex-king, you shall soon see the inside of a dungeon, just as Dawson and I did. May you enjoy the Maharajah's hospitality! Moreover, the others of my expedition must have carried out my plans, for if I mistake not, at this very moment I hear a welcome sound--the mob marches!"



We stepped out on the balcony. Through the palace gates strode General Garmize, waving his sword. Hundreds of loyal mice marched behind him.

"Down with Ratigan! Long live the Maharajah!" they shouted, and stormed the palace.

It was all over quickly. The gangsters threw down their weapons, begging for mercy, and were hurled into dungeons. Unfortunately, the Professor and Doran were put into the same dungeon Basil and I had occupied. Ratigan found the loose stone and the two scoundrels escaped.

But we did not know of this as we stood on the balcony and heard his Highness say, "My good and loyal subjects, meet the mastermind who saved my kingdom--Basil of Baker Street!"















The cheers for Basil were absolutely deafening.

A banquet was held in the palace in our honor, with rare Oriental cheeses and veiled dancing-mice.

While we all watched the swaying dancers, Basil told the Maharajah about the pygmy cats, and was promised a two-masted schooner, complete with captain and crew.

At last we would start on our quest!

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