Jaggles owned a rifle, with which he shot gleefully at every living thing on the island, but Ward had never seen a gun like this: it was much shorter than the rifle of Jaggles, and had a cylinder beneath the barrel that revolved under Wrinkler's fingers.
"Barking iron," Mildew said. "Kidsman'll love that."
But Wrinkler wasn't listening. He had turned to the mouth of the lane and slipped the gun into his pocket.
A dozen teenagers stood there.
They were dressed in a kind of filthy grandeur: the boys wore trousers, fine but tattered waistcoats, and greasy shirts; the girls carried handbags. The general effect was of a group of adults who had first been shrunk, then forced to crawl through a drainpipe.
The largest boy was different. His clothing was perfectly clean and his shoes polished. The chain of a pocket tempus hung from the breast pocket of his waistcoat; a folded red handkerchief poked out of the other. He looked about sixteen, but was the size of a fully-grown man. A wave of blonde hair lay over his head, concealing one eye, putting one in mind of a St Bernard dog.
"Oh hi," he said, as if he had only just noticed the Okies.
"Whaddaya want Bunker?" Wrinkler said.
The Spectaculum, hidden behind the mass of Okies, was hurriedly sweeping the loot into another suitcase.
Bunker strolled towards them, hands in the pockets. He stopped in front of Wrinkler. "Our cut," he said.
"You're not getting nothing," Mildew said.
Bunker smiled at her. "You're in Hector territory."
"I don't give a (unprintable word) if we're on the moon," Wrinkler said.
"Language Flip," said Bunker.
"We only stopped to divvy up," Mildew said. "Weren't buzzing here at all."
"Well we're here to help you divvy it," said a filthy Hector with long arms and legs and a face like a fish's belly. The Hectors laughed.
"Try that Mung and I'll divvy up your marbles with me boot," Mildew said. Now it was the Okies' turn to burst into laughter.
Meanwhile, the Spectaculum had been edging away, a suitcase in each hand.
"You can bring those here," Bunker said.
The Spectaculum's head snapped up. "I – Mildew, tell him it's just my magic kit."
"It's just his -" Mildew began.
"Tell him yourself you (unprintable word)," Wrinkler said. "Here." He pushed his way through the Okies and snatched one of the suitcases from the Spectaculum, bringing it back and dropping it at Bunker's feet. He stood over it with his arms crossed. Ward couldn't tell which suitcase it was. They were identical.
"Yours if you want it," Wrinkler said. Then he drew the gun and pointed it at Bunker's chest.
Why the (unprintable word) would you put a suit in a suitcase anyway?