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everything. It’s Slim. What a relief.”
    â€œBoy, what a relief.”
    â€œI just said that.”
    â€œThanks, so did you.”
    â€œWhat?”
    I didn’t have time to make sense of Drover’s nonsense, because at that very moment he spoke. Slim spoke, that is. I don’t know what Drover did, nor did I care. That last five-minute conversation with him had almost destroyed my mind.
    Anyway, Slim was standing beside the bed and had bent himself into a U-shape, so that all we could see of him were his bare feet and his face. The rest of him was invisible. It was an odd sight, to say the least, and a lot of dogs would have been alarmed. Not me. I saw right away . . .
    Okay, I was alarmed for just a second or two, not for long. It’s hard to fool a true Head of Ranch Security.
    â€œHi, puppies. What you doing under my bed?”
    I held my head at a proud angle and gave him Graveyard Glares. We were under the bed to escape an infantile maniac and his runaway vacuum sweeper. Thank you and good-bye.
    â€œDon’t you want to come out?”
    No. He’d had his chance to enjoy our company in a mature adult manner, but he had chosen to goof off and play silly, childish games. My dignity had suffered a terrible blow, and it would take days or weeks for me to get over it.
    And I had no intention of coming out—ever. He would just have to finish his life without a loyal dog.
    Too bad for him.

Chapter Six: Miss Viola Comes to Visit Me

    I had made up my mind to never leave the underside of the bed, and to let Slim suffer the consequences of his foolish behavior. But suddenly he was gone and the siege was over. My guess was that he glanced at a clock, because I heard him say, “For Pete’s sake, she’ll be here in ten minutes!”
    I shot a glance at Drover. He was still shivering.
    â€œI think maybe it’s safe to leave our drunker, Bover.”
    â€œNo thanks, I never touch the stuff.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI said . . . I don’t know what I said. When I get scared, I’ll say almost anything.”
    â€œYes, I noticed. I said—and please listen this time—I said, I think it’s safe to leave our bunker.”
    â€œOh good. What’s a bunker?”
    â€œA bunker is a bunker.”
    â€œOh, then maybe it’s safe to leave.”
    â€œExactly my point. And I’m going to let you leave first. It’s a small promotion, and it shows that I have confidence in your ability to perform a task.”
    â€œThat’s weird.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI said, ‘Oh boy, a promotion.’ I just hope I can do it.”
    â€œYou can do it, son. Just crawl out from under the bed.”
    â€œI thought it was a drunker.”
    â€œHush, Drover. Just do as you’re told for once in your life and let me give the orders. I have my reasons for sending you out first.”
    â€œYeah, that’s what bothers me. What if I run into the Vampire Vacuum?”
    â€œThe rest of us will be right here, backing you up. Now go.”
    â€œOh drat.”
    He stuck his nose out from under the bed. He rolled his eyes to the left and to the right. “It looks clear. Slim’s in the living room, throwing junk into the closet.”
    â€œGreat. Nice work, soldier. Let’s move out.”
    I wiggled myself out from under the bed and shook the lint off my coat. Sure enough, the coats was clear. Coast, that is. I made my way past the Vampire Vacuum, gave it a careful sniffing, and joined Slim in the living room.
    Well, at last he had gotten serious about cleaning up his house. After goofing off and wasting valuable time, he was now grabbing entire armloads of stuff—socks, pants, towels, papers, magazines, books, plates, cups—and throwing it into the hall closet. Then he put his shoulder to the door, rammed it three times, and finally got it shut.
    He paused a moment to catch his breath and brush the hair out of his