Scott heaved himself up. “Good! I’ll lend one of my jeeps. Just let’s all remember that gossip travels faster than the wind.”

Elias Johnson informed Hubbard, “Doctor, I’m already keeping folks out of the woods, told them the trees are being sprayed. The sheriff’s deputies and the volunteer firemen are taking care of that. But what about those rats? Will they stay in there?”

The scientist spoke between puffs, lighting his pipe. “On the basis of what we know about rat behavior generally, I’d say your breed prefers to keep hidden.”

“Good, then!” Reed Brockshaw exclaimed. He needed badly to grab onto any promise that there would be no general danger.

The scientist finished lighting up and addressed them soberly. “Unless,” he added, “there’s something in your woods that is driving the rats out.”

“How’s that?” Stephen Scott challenged quickly.

“From what I’ve heard this afternoon, I’d have to suspect that something is attacking the rats seen this morning. A quick theory is that they’ve been hit with some kind of virus. It might affect the inner ear, which would account for the dizziness we’ve been told about. Or it might be some form of rabies that is driving the rats at each other, and at people . . .” He hesitated a moment. “Though frankly I must say I have no idea how the dog’s eyes would be put out the way Miss Taylor described.”

Bonnie shuddered, and moved to a corner of the room. She was afraid tears might come again, and she did not want the men to see her cry.

Johnson took charge. “We’ll get your lab set up at the lighthouse. Pronto.”

“The first thing I’ll need is some specimens,” Peter Hubbard said quietly. “Can you get me at least a couple of the rats?”

Craig Soaras and Russell Homer were on their feet. “I’ll go right back in! I’ll get you the stuff you want from the dump!”

Amos Tarbell rose, with his hands held wide and his fingers wiggling urgently at the men. “Hold it, hold it! This may be dangerous. Well all do what we can, but first we’ll get some guns. If we’re going into the woods, we need to cover each other . . .”

Elizabeth heard the sheriff with growing horror. It was hard to believe it was only hours since she had sent Bonnie off to the picnic grove with Sharky for a pleasant, serene afternoon. Poor dog. Poor Yarkie, it seemed, if Peter Hubbard couldn’t help them!

Peter Hubbard was saying to her grandfather, “From what I’ve gathered so far, captain, I won’t be able to handle this problem alone. I’d like you to call Dr. Carr, please, and ask him to send over my associate, Wanda Lindstrom.”

Elias Johnson gave a quick nod. “I’ll get on the phone right now!”