The Great Mouse Detective Page #3

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with its multiplicity

of elements,

its many twists

and turns.

Now... you're certain

you've told me everything?

The slightest detail

may be important.

It's just as I said.

And then my father was gone.

What do you

make of it?

Ratigan's up

to something.

A crime of the most

sinister nature no doubt.

The question is,

what would he want

with a toy maker?

Quickly, Dawson,

we've not a moment to lose!

Uh, I'm right

behind you, Basil.

No sign of

the blackguard anywhere.

Not quite, Dawson. He left

some rather unusual footprints.

They obviously belong

to the same fiend...

who abducted

the girl's father,

Ratigan's

peg-legged lackey.

- Uh... Basil?

- Ah-ha!

Excellent work, old man.

Ha-ha-ha!

Now, there's nothing

to be afraid of, my dear.

The scoundrel's

quite gone.

- Not for long, Miss Flamhammer.

- Flaversham!

Whatever. Now we simply pursue

our peg-legged friend...

until he leads us

to the girl's father.

Then you'll get

my daddy back?

Yes!

And quite soon,

if I'm not mistaken.

Now, hurry along, Dawson.

We must be off to... Toby's.

- Toby's? - Oh, you must meet him.

He's just the chap for this.

- You want me to come?

- Ha!

I should think a stouthearted

army mouse like you...

would leap at the chance

for adventure.

Well, I am

rather curious.

Wait for me!

I'm coming too!

What? Certainly not!

This is no business for children.

Are we going

to take a cab?

Oh... my dear,

I don't think

you understand.

It will be quite dangerous.

Why, you...

Look at...

Young lady, you are most

definitely not accompanying us.

And that is final!

And not a word

out of you.

- Is that clear?

- Shh!

I observe that there's a good deal

of German music on the program.

It is introspective,

and I want to introspect.

But, Holmes, that music

is so frightfully dull.

Come on.

Toby? Toby?

Who is Toby?

Well, my dear,

Toby is... well, he's...

I say, Basil,

who is this Toby chap?

Ahh...

here he is now.

Dawson...

Toby.

Charmed... I'm sure.

Now, Toby! Toby, stop that.

Toby, cease!

Desist! Ha!

Tsk-tsk-tsk. Frightfully sorry, old man.

Toby has the most splendid sense

of smell of any hound I've trained.

But he can be...

deucedly frisky.

Hello, Toby.

Silly doggy!

Would you like

a crumpet?

Now, Toby? Toby!

To the matter at hand. I want you to...

Ahem, ahem, ahem!

Good.

Now, Toby...

Toby, I want you

to find...

...this fiend!

Yes, you know his type.

A villain.

A scoundrel!

Low brow. Close set eyes.

Broken wing.

Oh... he's a peg-legged bat

with a broken wing.

- Grrr!

- Yes! Yes! That's the spirit.

Got his scent?

Good boy, good boy!

- Miss Flamchester!

- Flaversham!

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