Twenty-five more caught hold of her left arm, and pinned that down.
Twenty-five caught hold of her right leg and anchored it to the ground.
Twenty-four caught hold of her left leg.
And the one remaining squirrel (obviously the leader of them all) climbed up on to her shoulder and started tap-tap-tapping the wretched girl's head with its knuckles.
'Save her!' screamed Mrs Salt. 'Veruca! Come back! What are they doing to her?'
'They're testing her to see if she's a bad nut,' said Mr Wonka. 'You watch.'
Veruca struggled furiously, but the squirrels held her tight and she couldn't move. The squirrel on her shoulder went tap-tap-tapping the side of her head with his knuckles.
Then all at once, the squirrels pulled Veruca to the ground and started carrying her across the floor.
'My goodness, she is a bad nut after all,' said Mr Wonka. 'Her head must have sounded quite hollow.'
Veruca kicked and screamed, but it was no use. The tiny strong paws held her tightly and she couldn't escape.
'Where are they taking her?' shrieked Mrs Salt.
'She's going where all the other bad nuts go,' said Mr Willy Wonka. 'Down the rubbish chute.'
'By golly, she is going down the chute!' said Mr Salt, staring through the glass door at his daughter.
'Then save her!' cried Mrs Salt.
'Too late,' said Mr Wonka. 'She's gone!'
And indeed she had.
'But where?' shrieked Mrs Salt, flapping her arms. 'What happens to the bad nuts? Where does the chute go to?'
'That particular chute,' Mr Wonka told her, 'runs directly into the great big main rubbish pipe which carries away all the rubbish from every part of the factory - all the floor sweepings and potato peelings and rotten cabbages and fish heads and stuff like that.'
'Who eats fish and cabbage and potatoes in this factory, I'd like to know?' said Mike Teavee.
'I do, of course,' answered Mr Wonka. 'You don't thin
k I live on cacao beans, do you?'
'But... but... but...' shrieked Mrs Salt, 'where does the great big pipe go to in the end?'
'Why, to the furnace, of course,' Mr Wonka said calmly. 'To the incinerator.'
Mrs Salt opened her huge red mouth and started to scream.
'Don't worry,' said Mr Wonka, 'there's always a chance that they've decided not to light it today.'
'A chance!' yelled Mrs Salt. 'My darling Veruca! She'll... she'll... she'll be sizzled like a sausage!'
'Quite right, my dear,' said Mr Salt. 'Now see here, Wonka,' he added, 'I think you've gone just a shade too far this time, I do indeed. My daughter may be a bit of a frump - I don't mind admitting it - but that doesn't mean you can roast her to a crisp. I'll have you know I'm extremely cross about this, I really am.'
'Oh, don't be cross, my dear sir!' said Mr Wonka. 'I expect she'll turn up again sooner or later. She may not even have gone down at all. She may be stuck in the chute just below the entrance hole, and if that's the case, all you'll have to do is go in and pull her up again.'
Hearing this, both Mr and Mrs Salt dashed into the Nut Room and ran over to the hole in the floor and peered in.
'Veruca!' shouted Mrs Salt. 'Are you down there!'