Rodney White Small Change

Rodney White Small ChangeRodney White Share a Random MomentUnknown Artist Woodland WalkUnknown Artist football
'Yesterday? Yesterday? What's yesterday got to do with it?'
'Footprints still fresh,' said Detritus.
He pointed.
There were footprints in the mud.
'How long have you lived here?' said Cuddy, suddenly feeling very conspicuous in the middle of the tunnel.
'Nine-er years. That is the number of years I have lived here. Nine-er,' said Detritus, proudly. 'It only one of a large . . . number of numbers I can count to.'
'Have you ever . But the ones coming back aren't so deep as the ones going. You can see they're later ones because they're over the top of the other ones. So he was heavier going than he was coming back, yes?'
'Blight,' said Detritus.
'So that means . . .?'
'He lose weight?'
'He was carrying something, and he left it . . . up ahead somewhere.'heard of tunnels under the city?''No.''Someone knows about them, though.''Yes.''What shall we do?'The answer was inevitable. They'd chased a man into the pork futures warehouse, and nearly died. Then they'd ended up in the middle of a small war, and nearly died. Now they were in a mysterious tunnel where there were fresh footprints. If Corporal Carrot-or Sergeant Colon said, 'And what did you do then?', neither of them could face up to the thought of saying 'We came back.''The footprints go this way,' said Cuddy, 'and then they return