“Wait a minute!” Sandy said. “Where’s that darn dog?”
“He’s probably back at headquarters hiding under a tent flap,” Jerry replied cynically. “The big coward. Come on, let’s go!” He reached out and grabbed Sandy’s arm.
The blond boy shook him off. “No, Jerry! He was here a minute ago.”
Cupping his hands to his mouth, he began to shout: “Prince! Prin-n-ce! Here, boy!” He put two fingers between his teeth and whistled shrilly.
There was a long silence. Then, from a distance, they heard the sharp, urgent barking of a dog.
Jerry groaned. “Good night! What’s he up to now?”
Sandy was perplexed. “Sounds like he’s over by the hill. But why?” Once more, he formed a megaphone with his hands and called to the dog. “Prince! Come on, boy!”
This time he was answered by a mournful howl.
Jerry’s voice was trembling. “Sandy, we’ve got to get out of here. You heard what Lukas said.”
The heat and smoke were stifling now, and the roar of the fire seemed to surround them.