“There may be a rebellion,” the girl urged. “Lives may be lost. If only we could somehow break up the meeting; the meeting I must have called without meaning to. If only we could!”
“There’s the dog,” suggested Curlie.
“Yes,” said the girl. “He is my protector. He’s very good. He won’t hurt you. But I wouldn’t think of sicking him on. He’d be killed.”
For a moment, save for the mad tum-tum of the drum, there was silence. Then Curlie, leaning close, asked in a low tone:
“Will he howl?”
“Who?”
“Your dog. Can you make him howl?”
“Why yes, I think so.”
“Make him howl then.”
“Why?”