For a moment the Cadpig stopped yapping, and there was a sudden silence. Then, from the village behind them, came the strident blare of the loudest motor-horn in England.

The pups sprang up, their exhaustion driven away by terror.

To the woods!€ cried Pongo. Then he saw that the woods were now protected by wire netting, through which not even the smallest pup could squeeze. And there was no ditch to hide in. But he could see that the woods ended, not very far ahead. We must go on,€ he cried. There may be fields, there may be a ditch.€

The horn sounded again, repeatedly. Pongo guessed that the fire engine had put out the fire, and now Cruella was scattering the villagers as she drove on her way. Already she would be less than two miles behind them and the great striped car could travel two miles in less than two minutes. But the woods were ending, there were fields ahead!

To the fields!€ cried Pongo. Faster, faster!

The pups made a great spurt forward, then fell back in dismay. For though the woods ended, the wire netting still continued, on both sides of them. There was still no way off the road. And the horn sounded again louder and nearer.

Nothing but a miracle can save us now,€ said Pongo.

Then we must find a miracle,€ said Missis firmly. Pongo, what is a miracle?€

It was at that moment that they suddenly saw, through the swirling snow, a very large van drawn up on the road ahead of them. The tailboard was down, and the inside of the van was lit by electric light. And sitting there, on a newspaper, was a Staffordshire Terrier with a short clay pipe in his mouth. That is, it looked like a clay pipe. It was really made of sugar and had once had a fine long stem. Now the Staffordshire drew the bowl of the pipe into his mouth and ate it. Then he looked up from the newspaper which he was reading as well as sitting on and stared in astonishment at the army of pups rushing helter-skelter towards him.

Help, help, help!€ barked Pongo. We are being pursued. How soon can we get off this road?

I don’t know, mate,€ barked back the Staffordshire. You’d better hide in my van.

The miracle, the miracle!€ gasped Pongo to Missis.

Quickly, pups! Jump into the nice miracle,€ said Missis, who now thought miracle€ was another name for a removal van.

A swarm of pups surged up the tailboard. Up went the Cadpig’s cart, pulled from the front and pushed from behind. Then more and more pups jumped or scrambled up until the entire army was in

Golly, there are a lot of you,€ said the Staffordshire, who had flattened himself against the side of the van. Lucky the van was empty. Who’s after you, mates? Old Nick?€