The others knew he was upset about not going on the expedition so they ignored him, but they adopted the name because it was the only one they could think of.
They leaned against the embankment wall and looked across the broad sweep of the river to the gasometers and the Chelsea Flour Mills opposite. The surface of the Thames was an alarming greeny-grey colour and only the floating rainbow whorls of diesel oil and petrol brightened the dull water. The horizon was cut out in dirty brown and black against a sky of diluted yellow ochre, and the sun had not shone all day.
They should have been depressed and frightened but somehow the very extent of the sight inspired them all with pride and determination. The shift of the waves nudging clumps of rubbish downstream; the hooting of tugs and barges as they passed; the unmoving blocks of black smoke from Lot's Road Power Station; the smell, like varnish, of the Thames in London, all these things combined to make their hearts swell and they looked at each other and smiled modestly, knowing that whatever was before them, they would be equal to it.
But Knocker could not partake of this sensation. All he could think of was that he would not be going, so he broke the spell, shouting harshly at them. "Well, stop this daydreaming, let's get this boat in the water."
They got one end of The Silver Belle Flower onto the river wall, then the other. They lowered her gently down into a scum-covered rectangle of water between The Ethel Ada and the embankment. The garbage had become cornered here and looked firm enough to walk over, but the boat pushed its keel through and found enough water to float on.
"She'll be safe there," said Knocker. "We'll tie her up midway between the two boats. The Ethel Ada will think she belongs to The Raven and The Raven will think she belongs to The Ethel Ada. "
The Silver Belle Flower was firmly tied to a ring in the wall and, with one last look at the dark river, the Borribles turned and went back to the gym for a good meal and an early night. Just over twenty-four hours to wait and the expedition would be under way.
The last day was a day of rest for the Eight but not for Dodger and Knocker. They went first to report to Spiff about the boat and he was delighted. He sat at his desk in his orange dressing-gown, flicking through a huge book of Borrible Rules.
"That Ziggy was always a pessimist," he said. "I knew you would do it. A piece of pudding stealing a boat. He can't stop us now."
He gave them a cup of tea and told them to take it off with them and drink it downstairs in the store-room.
There was plenty to do down there. Knocker had to make the final selection of gear from the huge piles that the Borribles had collected from various shops. When the choice had been made he and Dodger would pack the items into the eight rucksacks but first they put the gear into eight separate piles and, so they would make no mistakes, they checked and double checked every heap. Each Borrible had a spare pair of boots and there were waterproof khaki trousers and fur-lined combat jackets to keep them warm at night when they would do most of their travelling. There were special woollen Borrible hats which were reversible, camouflage on one side and luminous reddy-orange on the other, so they could make themselves easy to spot if they wanted to. They would have a life-jacket each for the river trip and sharp long-bladed knives to wear at their belts. There were eight catapults too, with spare rubbers and pouches. Knocker and Dodger fingered the catapults lovingly. They were the best, as used by professional poachers, made out of polished steel and strong and springy. They had a long range and fired stones, marbles or ball-bearings with great power. To carry a supply of ammunition Spiff had acquired some old army money belts which had little pockets stuck on them; each pocket would carry a round and well-balanced stone. These belts could be slung across the shoulders like bandoliers and each of the adventurers was to carry two of them, giving them twenty shots per person. This meant that between them they had a fire power of a hundred and sixty rounds and the bandoliers were to be worn outside the combat jackets so that they would be easy to get at and the rate of fire would be very fast.
Spiff had also seen to it that every Borrible on the expedition had a waterproof watch on one wrist and a compass on the other, and in a pocket of each rucksack would be the A to Z map of the London streets. There were matches for lighting fires and a basic ration of food in case anyone got lost or separated from the others.
Knocker was pleased with the work he and Dodger had done. "Everything," he said, "except money."
At dinner-time Spiff came into the room with some food and he sat with them while they ate. He inspected the haversacks and asked what was in each one, making sure that nothing had been overlooked. He asked about the route, made suggestions, chuckled one moment, was grave the next. He stayed about an hour before he got up to leave.
"Well, life is all a chance anyway, boys," he said. "Our Eight have got a hard time in front of them but they couldn't have been better trained. I'd like to thank you, Dodger, for coming down here from the Northcote. I know you don't like leaving your manor, so thanks again; here's a little memento. "He pulled from his pocket one of the waterproof watches that the expedition had been equipped with. "The lads got a bit enthusiastic and got too many of them," he added by way of explanation. "It's engraved on the back."
Dodger turned the watch over and read out loud: "The Great Rumble Hunt. Dodger Borrible, Trainer. Good luck." He was delighted, Knocker could see that. The watch was one of those big army jobs with lots of different faces and hands and knobs on it.
"It's luminous, too," said Spiff. He looked at Knocker then. "Don't you worry, Knocker, there'll be something for you later on. I haven't got it ready yet."
Knocker nodded. "Thanks, Spiff," he said.
Still Spiff didn't pass through the door, though he'd had his hand on the knob for a long while. "I want you to bring the Eight here on the way to the boat," he said. "I'll want to say a last word to them, goodbye and good luck and all that."
Knocker felt tired and empty. All this talk about the final preparations and the leave-taking made him feel as if his life had finished. Everything was beginning for the others, for him all was ending. "Why, oh why," he thought, "do I have a name already!" Then he thought back to his own name adventure, and he shrugged his shoulders. "You have to take a name whenever you have a chance; if you go through life picking and choosing and waiting for what you think is the best occasion, why you'd never get a name at all."
At last Spiff turned to Dodger who was still looking proudly at his engraved watch.
"Look, Dodger," he said, "I'm not trying to get rid of you, but if you'd like to start off to the Northcote now, you can. It's quite a way but you'd make it before dark. You could pop into the gym and say goodbye to the team on your way and tell them to come here tonight, about elevenish."
Dodger stood up and strapped on his watch, saying, "I wouldn't mind, I've got something I want to do."
"Right," said Spiff. "That's settled, thanks again," and he left the room whistling.
When he'd gone Dodger coughed and looked at Knocker. "Hmm," he said after another cough, "I'd better go then. Cheerio, Knocker. Come down the Northcote in a day or two, stay with me. Good market we've got down there. It'll make a change for you, you know."
When Knocker just sighed Dodger said, "Cheer up, it's only right that every Borrible should get a chance."
"I know," said Knocker, "but adventures like this one don't happen every day of the week. Still, I'll be better once they're gone. I'll come down to you in a few days. I've been through the Northcote, never stayed, we'll have a laugh. We had a laugh here, come to think of it."
"We did that," agreed Dodger. "See you soon, eh—and don't get caught." And with that traditional farewell he went.
Knocker had a miserable afternoon and evening. He checked the haversacks over and over again just to give himself something to do. He meandered and mooched about the store-room until at last he went upstairs and rested on his bed in the room which he shared with Lightfinger. He hadn't seen Lightfinger for ages. How long ago it seemed, that night when they had found the Rumbles in Battersea Park and had captured one. How much had happened since then; now everything was ready. He gazed at the ceiling until he dozed and the noises of the street sounded further and further away.
It was dark when he awoke and he felt very cold, having neglected to creep under his blankets. He sat up and shook himself and rubbed his body vigorously to get the blood running warmly. Getting to his feet he groped for the light switch. What time could it be? Not that the others needed him any more but he would have liked to have seen them off. Hoping they hadn't gone already he made for the stairs and ran down.
On the landing he bumped into Spiff who was coming from his room with some papers in his hand. "Aha, there you are, Knocker," he said and beamed at the chief lookout. He was apt to make obvious remarks, was Spiff, but he only did it when he was feeling very friendly or pleased with himself. "Got your lads downstairs, just going to give them a word or two, can you come down?"