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ath； in other words … the Frenchman called me down to his cell。 I was on my own for the time being； Brutal over at the missary for something； and according to the regs； I was not supposed to approach a prisoner in such circumstances。 But since I probably could have shot…putted Delacroix twenty yards one…handed on a good day； I decided to break the rule and see what he wanted。
〃Watch this； Boss Edgebe；〃 he said。 〃You gonna see what Mr。 Jingles can do！〃 He reached behind the cigar box and brought up a small wooden spool。
〃Where'd you get that？〃 I asked him； although I supposed I knew。 There was really only one person he could have gotten it from。
〃Old Toot…Toot；〃 he said。 'Watch this。〃
I was already watching； and could see Mr。 Jingles in his box； standing up with his small front paws propped on the edge； his black eyes fixed on the spool Delacroix was holding between the thumb and first finger of his right hand。 I felt a funny little chill go up my back。 I had never seen a mere mouse attend to something with such sharpness … with such intelligence。 I don't really believe that Mr。 Jingles was a supernatural visitation； and if I have given you that idea； I'm sorry； but I have never doubted that he was a genius of his kind。
Delacroix bent over and rolled the threadless spool across the floor of his cell。 It went easily； like a pair of wheels connected by an axle。 The mouse was out of his box in a flash and across the floor after it； like a dog ch
