Alas, poor Mitkey. Had he remembered that she was still only a mouse, and had he squeaked for her instead of calling, she might have come out from her hiding place.
Sadly, he returned and shut off the X-19 projector.
Later, when she returned, if she returned, he would figure some way. Possibly he could move the projector near her when she was asleep. To play safe, he could tie her feet first, so that if she was awakened by the neuric vibrations…
Night, and no Minnie.
Mitkey sighed, and waited.
Outside the wall, the rumble of the professor’s voice.
“Ach, effen the bread iss all gone. No food, und now I must go out und to der store yet. Food, it iss such a nuisance people must eat vhen on something imbortant they vork. But—ach, vhere iss mine hat?”
And the opening and closing of the door.
Mitkey crept to the mousehole. This was opportunity to look about out in the work-shop, to find a bit of soft string that would serve to tie Minnie’s dainty little feet.
Yes, the light was on out there, and the professor was gone. Mitkey scurried to the middle of the room and looked around.
There was the rocket, and it was finished, as far as Mitkey could see. Probably now the professor was waiting until the proper time to fire it. Against one wall the radio equipment that would pick up the automatic broadcast from the rocket when it had landed.
Lying on the table, the rocket itself. Beautiful shining cylinder which—if the professor’s calculations were correct—would be the first Earth-sent object ever to reach the moon.
It caught at Mitkey’s breath to look at it.
“Iss is nodt beautiful, no?”
Mitkey jumped an inch up in the air. That had not been the professor’s voice! It was a strange, squeaky, grating voice, a full octave too high for a human larynx.
A shrill chuckle, and, “Did I vrighten you?”
And Mitkey whirled around again, and this time located the source of the voice. The wooden cage on the table. Something white inside it.
A white paw reached through the bars of the door, the latch lifted, and a white mouse stepped out. His beady-bright eyes looked down, a bit contemptuously, at the little gray mouse on the floor below.
“You are this Mitkey, no, of whom der brofessor sbeaks?”
“Yess,” said Mitkey, wonderingly. “Und you—ach, yess, I see vhat happened. Der X-19 brojector. It vas in der vail chust oudside your cage. Und, like me, from der brofessor you learned to dalk English. Vhat iss your name?”
“Vhitey, der brofessor calls me. It vill do. Vhat iss der X-19 brojector, Mitkey?”
Mitkey told him.
“Ummm,” said Whitey. “Bossibilities I see, many bossibilities. Much more bedder than a drip to der moon. Vhat are your blans for using der brojector?”
Mitkey told him. The beady-bright eyes of Whitey grew brighter—and beadier. But Mitkey didn’t notice.
“Iff to der moon you are nodt going,” Mitkey said, “come down. I vill show you vhere to hide der vail inside.”
“Nodt yet, Mitkey. Look, at dawn tomorrow takes off der rocket. No hurry iss. Soon der brofessor comes home. He vorks around a vhile und dalks, und I listen. I learn more. Und a vhile he vill sleep before dawn, und then I eggscape. Iss easy.”
Mitkey nodded. “Dot iss smart. Budt do nodt trust der brofessor. If he learns you are now indelligent, he vill either kill you or make sure you do nodt eggscape. He is avraid of indelligent mice. Ach, vootsteps. Get back your cage in. Und be careful.”
And Mitkey scurried toward the mousehole, then remembered the piece of string and scurried back after it. The tip of his tail was just disappearing into the hole as Professor Oberburger walked into the room.
“Cheese, Vhitey. Cheese I brought you, und to put in der combartment of der rocket too so as you eadt on der vay. You haff been a goot liddle mouse. Vhitey?”
“Squeak.”
The professor peered into the cage.
“Almost I thingk you answer me, Vhitey. You did, yess?”
Silence. Deep silence from the wooden cage…
Mitkey waited, and waited longer.
No Minnie.
“Der yard she iss hiding in,” he told himself reassuringly. “She knows it iss dangerous to come in vhen iss light. Vhen dargkness comes—”
And darkness came.
No Minnie.
It was as dark outside now as it was within the wall. Mitkey sneaked to the kitchen door and made sure that it was open and that the hole was still there in the bottom of the screen.
He stuck his head through the hole and called, “Minnie! Mine Minnie!” And then he remembered she did not speak English, and squeaked for her instead. But softly so the professor in the next room would not hear him.
No answer. No Minnie.
Mitkey sighed and scurried back from dark corner to dark corner of the kitchen until he had reached safety in the mouse-hole.
Just inside he waited. And waited.
His eyelids grew heavy and dropped. And he slept, deeply.
A touch awakened him, and Mitkey jumped. Then he saw it was Whitey. “Shh,” said the white mouse, “der brofessor is asleep. It iss almost dawn, und he has his alarm glock set to go off in an hour yet. Then he vill find I am gone. He may try to catch a mouse to use instead, so ve must hide und not go outside.”
Mitkev nodded, “Smart you iss, Vhitey. But mine Minnie! She iss—”
“Iss nothing ve can do, Mitkey. Vait, before ve hide, show me der X-19 und how it vorks.”
“I show you quick, und then I hunt Minnie before der brofessor vakes. It iss here.”
And Mitkey showed him.
“Und how vould you reduce der power, Mitkey, so it vould not make a mouse quite so indelligent as ve are?”
“Like this,” said Mitkey. “But vhy?”
Whitey shrugged. “I chust vondered. Mitkey, der brofessor gafe me a very sbecial kind of cheese. Something new, und I brought you a liddle piece to try. Eadt it, und then I vill help you find Minnie. Ve haff almost an hour yet.” Mitkey tasted the cheese. “Iss nodt new. Iss Limburger. But hass a very vunny taste, effen for Limburger.”
“Vhich do you like bedder?”
“I dont know, Vhitey. I think I do nodt like—”
“Iss an acquired taste, Mitkey. Iss vonderful. Eadt it all, und you vill like it.”
So to be polite and to avoid an argument, Mitkey ate the rest of it.
“Iss nodt bad,” he said. “Und now ve look for Minnie.”
But his eyes were heavy, and he yawned. He got as far as the edge of the mousehole.
“Vhitey, I must rest a minute. Vill you vake me in aboudt fife min—”
But he was asleep, sound asleep, sounder asleep than he had ever been, before he finished the sentence.
Whitey grinned, and became a very busy little mouse.
The ringing of an alarm clock.
Professor Oberburger opened his eyes sleepily and then remembered the occasion, and got hastily out of bed. Within half an hour now, the time.
He went out behind the house and inspected the firing rack. It was in order, and so was the rocket. Except, of course, that the compartment door was open. No use to put the mouse in until the last moment.
He went indoors again, and carried the rocket out to the rack. Fitted it very carefully into place, and inspected the starter pin. All in order.
Ten minutes. Better get the mouse.
The white mouse was sound asleep in the wooden cage.
Professor Oberburger reached into the cage carefully. “Ach, Vhitey. Now for your long, long chourney. Boor liddle mouse, I vill not avaken you if I can help. More bedder you should sleep until der cholt of der stardt avakens you.”
Gently, very gently, he carried his sleeping burden out into the yard and put it in the compartment.
Three doors closed. First the inner one, then the balsa grating, then the outer one. All but the balsa grating would open automatically when the rocket landed. And the radio pick-up would broadcast the sound of the mouse chewing its way through the balsa.