My uncle told us of an occupant of a prison somewhere, not convicted, but consigned there anyway.
It was a rat, with a peg leg. It had gotten caught, and lost its leg. Enterprising convicts, with little better to do, had manufactured a substitute out of coat-hanger wire.
In the middle of the night, all of the prisoners were locked in place, save one.
“Rustle, rustle, rustle, ... clunk!”
“Scurry, scurry, scurry, ... clunk!”
“Here comes ol’ Peg!” the inmates would say, and smile to realize that one of their number was enjoying freedom, after a certain fashion.
Ah, sweet. :)
Did he have a tin cup to rattle on the bars as well?