Then they all went back to the bakehouse and settled down to sleep. The Collie said he would call them as soon as it was dark. They would have only five miles to go to another bakery but he felt they should get the journey over early as he had heard there might be snow.

But there may be cars on the road until late, as it is Christmas Eve and Sunday,€ he told them. So you must go by the fields. I shall escort you. Rest well now.

Poor Missis! When she awoke in the late afternoon and looked around her, she dissolved into sooty tears.

I can’t tell one pup from the other now they’re black,€ she moaned. But she soon found she could, though she could never have explained how she managed it.

Another meal had been organized, but it was not all that could have been wished, because the butcher had meanly locked up his shop.

This clears the bakery out,€ said the Collie, carrying in the last stale loaf. But there will be a good supper waiting for you. And the journey oughtn’t to take more than three or four hours.€ He then went off to see if there was any news coming in by the Twilight Barking.

After half an hour or so, Pongo began to feel anxious. It was quite dark now; they ought to be off. What was delaying the Collie?

Listen!€ said Missis suddenly.

Very, very faintly, they could hear the Collie barking. He was calling Pongo’s name, again and again.

Pongo and Missis ran out of the bakehouse to the little yard at the back. Now they could hear the Collie more clearly. But he was obviously some way off. Pongo barked in answer to him. Then swiftly the Collie told them what had happened.

He was locked in a house across the green, with no hope of getting out. The postmistress had promised to look after him while the baker was away for Christmas. She had decided it was too cold a night for a dog to be out, hauled him in, and gone out for the evening. He had tried every door and every window but could undo none of them. It was impossible for him to escort the Dalmatians, as he had promised.

But you can’t miss your way, Pongo,€ he barked. Out over the field at the back of the bakehouse and straight on for five miles.€

Pongo told him not to worry. But the poor Collie was most unhappy. Here I am, locked in with a warm fire and a good supper and powerless to help you.€

Both Pongo and Missis told him to eat the supper and enjoy the fire, and thanked him for all he had done.