Hall nodded. 'It's the top of a support. I've seen some other ones around here. There's another level under this part of the basement.'
'God,' Wisconsky said with utter revulsion.
Three-thirty A.M., Thursday.
They were in the north-east corner, Ippeston and Brochu behind them with one of the high-pressure hoses, when Hall stopped and pointed at the floor. 'There I thought we'd come across it.'
There was a wooden trapdoor with a crusted iron ring-bolt set near the centre.
He walked back to Ippeston and said, 'Shut it off for a minute.' When the hose was choked to a trickle, he raised his voice to a shout. 'Hey! Hey, Warwick! Better come here a minute!'
Warwick came splashing over, looking at Hall with that same hard smile in his eyes. 'Your shoelace come untied, college boy?'
'Look,' Hall said. He kicked the trapdoor with his foot. 'Sub-cellar.'
'So what?' Warwick asked. 'This isn't break time, col-'
'That's where your rats are,' Hall said. 'They're breeding down there. Wisconsky and I even saw a bat earlier.'
Some of the other men had gathered around and were looking at the trapdoor.
'I don't care,' Warwick said. 'The job was the basement, not -'
'You'll need about twenty exterminators, trained ones,' Hall was saying. 'Going to cost the management a pretty penny. Too bad.'
Someone laughed. 'Fat chance.'
Warwick looked at Hall as if he were a bug under glass. 'You're really a case, you are,' he said, sounding fascinated. 'Do you think I give a good goddamn how many rats there are under there?'
'I was at the library this afternoon and yesterday,' Hall said. 'Good thing you kept reminding me I was a college boy. I read the town zoning ordinances, Warwick they were set up in 1911, before this mill got big enough to co-opt the zoning board. Know what I found?'
Warwick's eyes were cold. 'Take a walk, college boy. You're fired.'
'I found out,' Hall ploughed on as if he hadn't heard, 'I found out that there is a zoning law in Gates Falls about vermin. You spell that v-e-r-m-i-n, in case you wondered. It means disease-carrying animals such as bats, skunks, - unlicensed dogs - and rats. Especially rats. Rats are mentioned fourteen times in two paragraphs, Mr Foreman. So you just keep in mind that the minute I punch out I'm going straight to the town commissioner and tell him what the situation down here is.'
He paused, relishing Warwick's hate-congested face. 'I think that between me, him, and the town committee, we can get an injunction slapped on this place. You're going to be shut down a lot longer than just Saturday, Mr Foreman. And I got a good idea what your boss is going to say when he turns up. Hope your unemployment insurance is paid up, Warwick.'
Warwick's hands formed into claws. 'You damned snot-nose, I ought to -' He looked down at the trapdoor, and suddenly his smile reappeared. 'Consider yourself rehired, college boy.'
'I thought you might see the light.'
Warwick nodded, the same strange grin on his face.
You're just so smart. I think maybe you ought to go down 'There, Hall, so we got somebody with a college education to give us an informed opinion. You and Wisconsky.'
'Not me!' Wisconsky exclaimed. 'Not me, I-'
Warwick looked at him. 'You what?'
Wisconsky shut up.
'Good,' Hall said cheerfully. 'We'll need three flashlights. I think I saw a whole rack of those six-battery jobs in the main office, didn't I?'
'You want to take somebody else?' Warwick asked expansively. 'Sure, pick your man.'
'You,' Hall said gently. The strange expression had come into his face again. 'After all, the management should be represented, don't you think? Just so Wisconsky and I don't see too many rats down there?'
Someone (it sounded like Ippeston) laughed loudly.
Warwick looked at the men carefully. They studied the tips of their shoes. Finally he pointed at Brochu. 'Brochu, go up to the office and get three flashlights. Tell the watchman I said to let you in.'
'Why'd you get me into this?' Wisconsky moaned to Hall. 'You know I hate those -'
'It wasn't me,' Hall said, and looked at Warwick.
Warwick looked back at him, and neither would drop his eyes.
Four A.M., Thursday.
Brochu returned with the flashlights. He gave one to Hall, one to Wisconsky, one to Warwick.
'Ippeston! Give the hose to Wisconsky.' Ippeston did so. The nozzle trembled delicately between the Pole's hands.
'All right,' Warwick said to Wisconsky. 'You're in the middle. If there are rats, you let them have it.'
Sure, Hall thought. And if there are rats, Warwick won't see them. And neither will Wisconsky, after he finds an extra ten in his pay envelope.
Warwick pointed at two of the men. 'Lift it.'