The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More

"You know who that is?" Raymond whispered back. "It's that little twerp Watson."

"You're right!" Ernie whispered. "It's Watson, the scum of the earth!"

Peter Watson was always the enemy. Ernie and Raymond detested him because he was nearly everything that they were not. He had a small frail body. His face was freckled and he wore spectacles with thick lenses. He was a brilliant pupil, already in the senior class at school although he was only thirteen. He loved music and played the piano well. He was no good at games. He was quiet and polite. His clothes, although patched and darned, were always clean. And his father did not drive a truck or work in a factory. He worked in the bank.

"Let's give the little perisher a fright," Ernie whispered.

The two bigger boys crept up close to the small boy, who didn't see them because he still had binoculars to his eyes.

" 'Ands up!" shouted Ernie, pointing the gun.

Peter Watson jumped. He lowered the binoculars and stared through his spectacles at the two intruders.

"Go on!" Ernie shouted. "Stick 'em up!"

"I wouldn't point that gun if I were you," Peter Watson said.

"We're givin' the orders round 'ere!" Ernie said.

"So stick 'em up," Raymond said, "unless you want a slug in the guts!"

Peter Watson stood quite still, holding the binoculars in front of him with both hands. He looked at Raymond. Then he looked at Ernie. He was not afraid, but he knew better than to play the fool with these two. He had suffered a good deal from their attentions over the years.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want you to stick 'em up!" Ernie yelled at him. "Can't you understand English?"

Peter Watson didn't move.

"I'll count to five," Ernie said. "And if they're not up by then, you get it in the guts. One. . . Two. . . Three. . ."

Peter Watson raised his arms slowly above his head. It was the only sensible thing to do. Raymond stepped forward and snatched the binoculars from his hands. "What's this?" he snapped. "Who you spyin' on?"

"Nobody."

"Don't lie, Watson. Them things is used for spyin'! I'll bet you was spyin' on us? That's right, ain't it? Confess it!"

"I certainly wasn't spying on you."

"Give 'im a clip over the ear," Ernie said. "Teach 'im not to lie to us."

"I'll do that in a minute," Raymond said. "I'm just workin' meself up."

Peter Watson considered the possibility of trying to escape. All he could do would be to turn and run, and that was pointless. They'd catch him in seconds. And if he shouted for help, there was no one to hear him. All he could do, therefore, was to keep calm and try to talk his way out of the situation.

"Keep them 'ands up!" Ernie barked, waving the barrel of the gun gently from side to side the way he had seen it done by gangsters on the telly. "Go on, laddie, reach!"

Peter did as he was told.

"So 'oo was you spyin' on?" Raymond asked. "Out with it!"

"I was watching a green woodpecker," Peter said.

"A what?"

"A male green woodpecker. He was tapping the trunk of that old dead tree, searching for grubs."

"Where is 'ee?" Ernie snapped, raising his gun. "I'll 'ave 'im!"