I caught it directly in the midsection, knocking it back into the wardrobe again. I slashed twice, left and right, as it sought to seize me. I dropped down and bit one of its legs. I roared and threw myself on it again, slashing faceward.

It drew back, retreating to the rear of its prison, leaving a heavy scent of musk in the air. I shouldered the doors shut, reared up, and tried to close the latch with my paw. Jack entered just then and did it for me. He held his knife loosely in his right hand.

«You are an exemplary watchdog, Snuff,» he stated.

A moment later Larry Talbot came in.

«Problems?» he said. «Anything I can help with?»

The blade vanished before Jack turned.

«No, thank you,» he said. «It was less serious than it sounded. Shall we return to our tea?»

They departed.

I followed them down the stairs, Talbot moving as silently as the master. I'd a feeling, somehow, that he was in the Game, and that this incident had persuaded him that we were, too. For as he was leaving he said, «I see some busy days ahead, before this month is out. If you ever need help, of any sort, you can count on me.»

Jack studied him for several long moments, then replied, «Without even knowing my persuasion?»

«I think I know it,» Talbot answered.

«How?»

«Good dog you've got there,» Talbot said. «Knows how to close a door.»

Then he was gone. I followed him home, of course, to see whether he really lived where he said he did. When I saw that he did I had even more lines to draw. Interesting ones now, though.

He never turned and looked back, yet I knew that he could tell I was behind him all the way.

Later, I lay in the yard, drawing my lines. It had become a much more complicated enterprise. Footsteps approached along the road, halted.

«Good dog,» croaked an ancient voice. It was the Druid. There followed a plop on the ground nearby, as something he'd tossed over the garden wall landed. «Good dog.»