Pongo started to explain, but the Staffordshire said they would talk during the drive to London. My pets will be out of that house there any minute. Fancy us doing a removal on a Sunday and Christmas Eve. But the van broke down yesterday, and we had to finish the job.

How many days will the journey to London take?€ asked Missis.

Days?€ said the Staffordshire. It won't take much more than a couple of hours, if I know my pets. They want to get home to finish decorating their kids’Christmas trees. Sssh, now! Pipe down, both of you.€

A large man in a rough apron was coming out of a nearby house. Missis thought, As soon as one danger is past, another threatens.€ Would they all be turned out of the miracle?

The Staffordshire, wagging his tail enthusiastically, hurled himself at the man’s chest, nearly knocking him down.

Look out, Bill!€ said the man, over his shoulder. The Canine Cannon Ball’s feeling frisky.€

Bill was an even larger man, but even he was shaken by the Staffordshire’s loving welcome.

Get down, you Self-launched Bomb,€ he shouted with great affection.

The two men and the Staffordshire came back to the van, and the Staffordshire jumped inside. The sooty Dalmatians, huddled together, were invisible in the darkness.

Want to ride inside, do you€ said Bill. Well, it is cold.€ He put the tailboard up and shouted, Next stop, St. John’s Wood.€ A moment later the van started.

St. John’s Wood! Surely, that was where the Splendid Vet lived quite close to Regent’s Park! What wonderful, wonderful luck, thought Pongo. Just then he heard a clock strike. It was still only eight o’clock.

Missis!€ he cried. We shall get home tonight! We shall be home for Christmas!

Yes, Pongo,€ said Missis gaily. But she did not feel as gay as she sounded. For Missis, who had been so brave, so confident up to the moment they had found the miracle, had suddenly been smitten by a great fear. Suppose the Dearlys did not recognize them now they were black dogs? Suppose the dear, dear Dearlys turned them away?

She kept her fears to herself. Why should she frighten Pongo with them? How fast the miracle was travelling! She thought of the days it had taken her and Pongo to reach’Suffolk on foot. Why, it seemed like weeks since they had left London! Yet it was only how long? Could it be only four days? They’d slept one day in the stable at the inn, one day at the dear Spaniel’s, one day in the Folly, part of a night in the barn after the escape from Hell Hall, then a day at the bakery. So much had happened in so short a time. And now, would it be all right when they got home? Would it? Would it?