Fiddler groaned and rubbed the back of his aching head. He sat up and looked around at his surroundings. It took him a while to realise he was still inside the Village Hall, though it was empty now. Getting groggily to his feet, he tried to remember what had happened.

Slowly, images from the day before filtered into his mind. He could picture Delta, lying winded after he had been kicked. Then he saw himself hanging on to the man's shoulder for dear life. Suddenly the events that had taken place after his camera-rat had escaped sprang into his mind.

Fiddler clamped his teeth together now as he recalled what had happened, just as he had done around the human’s finger who had him hold by the tail. Then he fell back against the wall with a gasp of surprise, as he had when the human threw him. He opened his eyes, but in his flashback it was not the empty Village Hall that was before him now that he saw but an image of the humans hurriedly making their way to the door, shouting and pushing.

Fiddler closed his eyes tight and held his paws over his head until the images disappeared. When they were completely gone he opened his eyes. “They must’ve thought they’d killed me!” He stood up and shouted aloud, “I was only stunned, ha, ha, stupid humans! Can’t kill Fiddler!”

He danced about, happy to be alive until he remembered that he was now stuck and all alone. He gazed about the huge hall, his normally cheery features somber. “Is there anyone else here? Any mice?”

Fiddler slumped down against the wall dejectedly and watched a spider crawl across the floor in front of him. “Just you an’ me then, mate. Don’t spose you know a way out of here do y’?”

The spider scuttled away. Fiddler sighed. “Suit yourself. I’ll just have to find my own way out then.” He got to his feet once more and made his way over to one of the abandoned stalls. Once he had climbed the table leg he sat perched on top and looked about. Right across the hall, above a dusty old piano, one of the windows was open. He grinned. “Ha, ha! Fiddler, you genius you, that’s our way out!”

The dauntless mouse hurried back down the table leg and skipped over to the piano. He clambered up onto the stool and leapt onto the keys, making no sound as he was too light. Once he was up on the piano he made a jump for the window. He fell short. “Too high!” Determined that this was going to be his way out, Fiddler jumped again. And again . . . and again.

Below him, beneath the stool, two rats were watching his antics. “He’s never goin’ to make it,” one said.

“Why doesn’t he just use the bolt hole?” the other asked.

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The first rat shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t know about it. Do you think we should tell him?”

“Nah!” said the second rat, giggling, “I like watching him jump about like a grasshopper.”

The two rats started giggling to themselves. They didn’t notice Fiddler had now spotted them. “Ahem, would you two ladies mind not laughing over a chap's crisis and help him out?”

The rats stopped laughing and looked up to Fiddler. The mouse leant over the edge of the piano with his head in his paws grinning at them.

The first rat curtsied. “Oh sir, why should we help you? You seem to know what you’re doing!”

Fiddler waved his paws airily. “Fine don’t help me then. I was just thinking that two big strong girls like yourselves would be able to give me a lift up to the window easily but if you don’t think you can manage it…” Fiddler shrugged and looked bored. He stole a crafty glance at the two rats who were in a whispered conversation.

Finally the first rat looked up at him. “We could get you to the window.”

Her companion nodded. “No problem. Wait there, we’ll be right up.”

Fiddler grinned to himself and waited for the rats to join him. They were soon by his side. He nodded towards the window. “It’s quite high. One of you’ll have to stand on the other’s shoulders and let me climb up.” He looked at the two females. “Which one of you is the strongest?”

Both rats pointed to themselves, then glared at the other. “I’m stronger!”

“Are not. I’m far stronger than you!”

Fiddler held up his paws to stop any further argument. He indicated the first rat. “You both look as strong as each other. You lift your friend up, then she can lift me, okay?”

The rats agreed and got into position under the window. The first rat knelt down and allowed her friend to climb up on her shoulders. Fiddler was then hauled up of his feet and hoisted onto the second rat. With a struggle, the first rat stood upright. “There!” she said triumphantly. “Can you reach the window?”

Fiddler reached up and pulled himself onto the window ledge. He looked down at the rats who were still balancing shakily. “Thank you, ladies,” he called. “Your help was much obliged!”

He then turned and squeezed himself through the gap in the window. Once outside he jumped to the ground, landing safely on the soft grass. Fiddler looked up at the window then brushed himself down. It felt good to be out.

“Right then. Home we go.” Fiddler turned to march off when he noticed the two female rats out of the corner of his eye. He turned back and looked at them in surprise. “How did you two get out?”

The two rats giggled and one pointed to a scraped out hole near to some crumbled old bricks. “We just used the bolt hole!”

The rats fell about laughing as Fiddler continued to look at them in amazement. Drawing himself up indignantly, the mouse looked down his nose at them. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a bolt hole?”

The first rat stopped laughing and smiled apologetically. “You never asked. And besides we had to show you we could lift you!”

Fiddler grinned ruefully and rubbed the back of his head reflectively. “Well, you did that, ladies!” He made to go, then looked back. “Um, you don’t know the way back to the wood do you? I’m not very good with directions.”

The rats laughed again and pointed Fiddler the right way. In high spirits and with a cheery wave, the young mouse reporter set off for home.