Bolts Read Online Free Page A

ugly—and they’re the only things I know that wouldn’t be afraid of your growl. Lumpy uses them to hunt mountain lions when he isn’t out cutting throats. Brother, we’d better really move!”
    Bolts and the burro began to race down the trail.

3
    He Tangles with Trouble
    While Bolts and the burro were running for their lives Bingo and Commander Brown were pacing worriedly around the workshop, trying to plan what to do. Because of the trouble over Bolts, Big Butch was unusually late with dinner tonight, and the commander was fit to be tied. He couldn’t think without food, yet some very quick and right-on-the-ball thinking had to be done.
    A great deal depended on finding Bolts, and finding him soon.
    â€œI can’t understand it,” said Bingo. “I’ve been signaling him for a half hour, but he doesn’t answer. He’s supposed to have a built-in radio like the one Butch has. If he’s turned on, he must be able to hear me.”
    â€œMaybe he’s not turned on yet,” muttered the hungry commander.
    â€œBut, Pops, he has to be turned on. It’s plain logic. Whoever stole the other box would certainly open it as soon as he could.”
    â€œH’mp, yes, I suppose so,” came the grumpy reply.
    â€œAnd naturally,” Bingo went on, “anybody finding Bolts inside would be curious enough to turn him on.”
    â€œNaturally, naturally.”
    â€œAnd once he’s turned on,” argued Bingo, “he’s bound to escape. How could you hold a dog like Bolts?”
    â€œWouldn’t want to try it,” growled the commander. “Not with those teeth.”
    â€œThen why doesn’t he answer when I signal him?” Bingo cried. “What’s wrong?”
    The commander threw up his hands. “Don’t ask me!” he fumed. “How can I think when I’m starving to death?” He glared in the direction of the kitchen, then bellowed in sudden wrath, “What’s holding you, Butch? You know I need food!”
    Pirate flapped his wings and cackled to Big Butch, “Shake the lead out of your feet, you tin dummy, and look alive! Bilge-water needs his chow!”
    At that moment Big Butch struck the dinner gong and called, “Chow’s on! Come an’ get it!”
    â€œHeaven be praised,” breathed the commander, too relieved to give Pirate a dressing down. He waddled hurriedly into the dining alcove and settled himself gratefully before a table heaped with enough food to stuff a whale.
    Bingo had no appetite at all. “Pops,” he said presently, “if you don’t go easy on those biscuits, you’ll never be able to squeeze yourself into the Space Jumper. Then where will we be?”
    â€œWithout Bolts,” replied the commander, “we’ll be nowhere. Without food I can’t think, and without thought we’ll never find him. However”—he paused to deal with another biscuit—“I’m feeling better already. Now, it occurs to me that one of two things is wrong. Either Pirate doesn’t know what he’s talking about or—”
    â€œI do too! I do too!” the parrot squawked. “I’m never wrong!”
    â€œIf you’re so smart,” Bingo said, “why don’t you tell us where he is?”
    â€œAw, you want too much out of a bird,” grumbled Pirate. “I can’t force my second sight. It has to come when it comes.”
    â€œVery well,” said the commander. “If Pirate’s right, we’ll have to assume that something is wrong with Bolts. Call him again, Bingo. Only give it more power this time. Maybe he needs a little jolt to tingle his circuits.”
    Bingo went to the very super radio in the corner of the shop, which he had tuned to the special robot wave that only Big Butch and Bolts could hear. He turned it up to full power, so that it positively whined and shot bands of blue light