The thief fell right onto him. The steel bat clanked across the floor.

Jake tried to scramble away, but clawlike hands snatched his uniform’s collar. Before he could break free, a bony arm hooked across his throat, strangling him.

Heavy boots pounded down the passageway. Drummond appeared, now holding two pistols: one pointed down the side hall, one toward the foyer.

The thief swung Jake around, using him like a human shield. “Back off!” the skinny man squeaked at Drummond.

Morgan took in the scenario with a glance and obeyed. He took three large steps toward the rear of the house. The thief returned to the main hall, keeping Jake as a shield.

Once out in the hall, Jake caught sight of a second man in the foyer by the front door, a short bulldog with jowls to match. To the side, Aunt Matilda huddled at the entrance to the library. Her baker’s cap was askew, her white curls tangled. She fixed Jake with a look of raw terror.

“Back to the car!” the skeleton shouted to the bulldog. “As long as we have the boy, they’ll do what we want! Pay any price!”

The thief dragged Jake back with him.

They were going to kidnap him.

Jake met Drummond’s glare down the hall. Both pistols pointed forward now, but the Brit plainly feared shooting and hitting Jake.

Reaching the foyer, Jake struggled to free himself, but his throat was clamped by a hard forearm.

The thief took a last step toward the door when a new noise intruded.

From the sweep of the main staircase, a baying howl flowed. A low brown shape hurtled down the steps, a furry torpedo.

“No, Watson!” Jake gasped out.

The old basset hound was past his fighting prime. At fourteen years, he was almost deaf and half blind. He must have slept through all of the commotion until the booming gunshot woke him up and sent him charging.

Leaping off the last step, Watson flew to Jake’s defense.

But he was no match for the strong thief. Jake’s captor swung out his arm like a club and struck Watson in the shoulder, knocking the dog to the side.

Jake went blind with anger. Free of the choking arm, he ripped open the red belt that tied his uniform and shimmied out of his jacket, leaving the giant holding nothing but cloth.

Once free, Jake twisted and dropped to his back on the floor. He kept hold of his jacket’s sleeve and yanked with all his strength.

The skeleton, caught by surprise, got pulled forward. Jake kicked up with both feet, hitting the man square in the face. Under one heel, bone crunched.

With a cry of surprise and pain, the thief let go of the jacket and stumbled over the door’s threshold and down the front steps outside.

Morgan came running up. “Stay down!” he yelled to Jake, and dashed for the door.

But the thief’s partner already had the car running. Jake heard the engine roar. Morgan’s pistol cracked, but tires spun through gravel.