Chapter 2: Spectre Of The Lamb
The old clock had struck had eight by the time Mouse finished his recounting. Slamming the accounting book tight, he then hopped down and proceeded to getting his own coat and silk hat. He hastily tightened his scarf, going over all the precautions for tomorrow: the safes, completely checked and tightened; Keys, always in the fourth draw from the top, all counting books, stacked alphabetically at the back; money, safe in the safe. Christmas day or not, nothing kept him from a day's work and that was final!
With a firm shut, the front door was locked. The miser sniffed as he tugged the scarf up over his face, bracing the icy wind as he plodded home. Thankfully, his accommodation was only 30 minutes away. Well, 30 minutes for him anyway; for other animals, it would only be 15 or 10 if they kept a brisk pace. For Mouse, he constantly kept a brisk pace whenever he was in town. Always having this head down or staring straight ahead, not allowing anythin