Day 314: William Does a Bob-a-Job

 The facts

“What’s a right of way?” asked Ginger.
“It’s weighin’ things right,” said William. “That new man at the sweet shop doesn’t even try to. He stops puttin’ them on soon as the scales begin to wobble ’stead of goin’ on till they go down with a bang same as he’s s’posed to by lor. I once told a p’liceman about it but he didn’t take any notice. He was prob’ly in league with him.”


Bored of all the weeding which seems to come their way during Bob-a-Job Week, William and Ginger take on a different sort of task: a friendly old lady is being terrorised by some yobbish older boys whenever she crosses through their garden (using an ancient right of way) to reach her bus stop.

The Outlaws quickly manage to lock the yobs into a bedroom in their house – but then a rather interesting siege situation develops, because the room in which they are locked has a large number of heavy tiles in it, and plentiful windows through which the yobs can throw them so as to keep the Outlaws in the house as well. They are trapped.

“l’d’ve made my will again if I’d known… I made a new one last week but I forgot to leave my c’lection of insects to the British Museum.”

“We ought to try one of those war escapes,” William said. “They dug tunnels. They dug tunnels from where they were imprisoned to outside of it. If we could dig a tunnel from inside the house to ole Miss Risborough’s garden…”
“How?” challenged Ginger. “Kin’ly tell me how to dig a tunnel through people’s floor-boards comin’ out into other people’s gardens. You tell me.”
“Oh, shut up!” said William testily. “There were other ways… Some of ’em got out in a wooden horse.”
“All right,” said Ginger, “find a wooden horse.”

They succesfully escape, bringing back with them a copper jam saucepan of the old lady’s which had been stolen from her… but then it’s back to weeding. Hey ho.