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Page 98 n door closes behind you with a soft click. You stand absolutely still to avoid rousing the dogs while you consider your escape route. The fence is made of shafts of wrought iron, except at the front gate, where you came in, the crosspieces aren’t close enough to serve as rungs on a ladder. But earlier you noticed that in the corner of the yard-out of sight of the dog pen-there is a tree with lower limbs close enough for you to reach. A branch of the tree extends a few feet over the fence. If you can reach that tree, you’ll have it made. And your route will be out of sight of the dogs. Step by step you move across the lawn, hardly daring to breathe. You’re a little over halfway to the tree when your right foot brushes against a small rock. Though it makes only the slightest sound, it’s enough to bring the dogs to their feet, barking furiously. You look around. They’re coming at you! You break into a mad dash. The dogs are coming fast-closing in! You leap up, grab a branch just above your head, and swing your feet up onto it. You reach for a higher branch and start to pull yourself up. Turn to page 103