Lucky whispered, If we could go out through the larder, we could eat tomorrow’s breakfast on our way. That’s the door by the fireplace. It’s bolted, but I expect you can unbolt it, can’t you, Father?€

Pongo had never even tried to unbolt a door, but he had seen the Sheepdog do it. Yes, Lucky,€ he said firmly. I can unbolt it.

They tiptoed across the kitchen. Then Pongo stood on his hind legs and took the bolt in his teeth. It would not budge. He rested his teeth and took a good look at the bolt in the light from the fire. He saw the knob was turned down and would have to be raised before the bolt would slide.

Now we shan’t be long,€ he said to Lucky, and again took the knob in his teeth. He raised it, tried to slide it. Still it would not slide. He thought, Lucky will lose confidence in me,€ and he dragged and dragged until he thought his teeth would break. Then he began to fear that if the bolt did shoot back it would make a loud noise. Just then there was a burst of applause from the television someone had guessed a contestant. (He had stolen two hundred bath plugs from hotels). Pongo made a desperate effort. The bolt shot back. The larder door swung open.

I knew you’d do it, Father,€ said Lucky proudly.

Just a matter of knowing how,€ said Pongo, running his tongue round his teeth to make sure they were all still there.

A cold draught came from the larder. It had been the dairy when Hell Hall was a farm, and there were wooden slats instead of windows. The moonlight, shining in through the slats, made bright stripes on the stone floor. Meat for the puppies' breakfast was already set out in long troughs because the Badduns hated working in the early morning. There were small troughs for the little pups and big ones for the larger pups.

Pongo said to Lucky, Wait until I get back to your mother. Then, while she and I stand ready to attack the Badduns, march all the pups in here. Tell them no pup is to eat until the last pup has a place at a trough. I will join you then and give the word to start eating.€

It was remarkable how quickly the pups left the kitchen, under Seageant Lucky’s whispered directions. Row after row marched out, like children leaving a school hall after prayers, except that the big pups left first, as they were nearest the door. Pongo and Missis watched the Badduns anxiously, for the hundreds of little toenails made a clitter-clatter on the kitchen floor, and there were a few scuffles, snuffles, and snorts though never even the smallest bark, for the pups guessed that their lives depended on their silence. But the Badduns had eyes and ears for nothing but television.