It took all of Sandy’s will power to force a feeble grin. “We’ll come out of this, pal. The most important thing to remember when you’re in a tight spot, Uncle Russ says, is to stay calm and cool; if you use your head there’s mostly always a way out.”
“Save your breath, Sandy. I’m so scared I could blubber.”
Sandy folded the paper several times until it was a tight little wad. Then he called the dog over to him. Wedging the paper into the leash ring on Prince’s leather collar, he bound it securely in place with the long thong from his boot. He took the Doberman’s slender muzzle between his two hands and looked straight into the intelligent brown eyes.
“Prince,” he said slowly, emphasizing each word. “Go ... to ... Uncle Russ ... Uncle Russ ... Understand? ... Find Uncle Russ ... That’s the boy.” He turned Prince around in the opposite direction and gave him a pat on the rump. “Go, boy!”
With a parting yelp, Prince streaked out of sight into the forest.
The crackle of the fire was louder now, and they could see it advancing through the treetops on both sides of them. The sky was completely blotted out by smoke, creating an artificial dusk.
“We’d better get back to the hill,” Sandy said.
“What do you say we soak ourselves in the stream?” Jerry suggested. “I heard somewhere that you can protect yourself from the heat and flying embers that way.”
“Good idea,” Sandy agreed. “Maybe the cold water will revive Quiz too.”
The two boys stretched out full length in the sluggish stream, turning over and over until their clothing was soaked back and front. Last of all, they pulled Quiz into the stream, splashing water on his face and head.