"Of course I'm here." Jeff, who had intended to hold a five-dollar bill against the cell bars and indicate that it would be Pop's in exchange for freedom, abandoned the plan almost as soon as he conceived it because it was hardly consistent with the business policies of Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd., or with its standards. He must pay for nothing if he could trade, and there had to be something he could trade for release. Bucky said fretfully, "Jeff." "What do you want?" "Got anything in that pack of yours that'll help pass time?" "How about some music?" "Anything!" Jeff took from his pocket a small mouth organ with which he often beguiled the hours. He was happy again, and his smile glowed once more. He'd been thinking too hard. If he relaxed with the mouth organ for a little while, and cleared his mind, he would get some new ideas. By way of tuning up, he blew a soft note and the cell erupted. Pal, who had been lying quietly on the mattress, leaped to his feet, pointed his head erect, and voiced a weird howl. It was not the cry of a dog but a banshee shriek, a wailing of lost souls and tortured beings, and it filled the room like a solid substance. Descending on a low moan, it stopped. Pal lifted his lips and snarled fiercely. The two in the next cell gave way to hysterical laughter and Pop bustled from his desk. "You'll have to keep that dog--" He took a backward step as Pal snarled again. The mouth organ hidden in his hand, Jeff stood innocently. Pop stared. "Why does he do that?" "I don't know." "You'll have to keep him quiet." "I'll try," Jeff promised. His blue eyes were dancing and his smile broadened. Some dogs were affected by sounds beyond those which normally came to their ears, and Jeff had never decided whether they reacted because certain noises grated harshly on their ears, because some sounds reminded them of a battle or other experience, or if they were merely inclined to be in tune. Obviously Pal was given to the latter sort of response. Waiting until Pop returned to the desk, Jeff blew the same note as softly. Pal responded with a whole chorus of shrieks that began on a tenor note and ascended to a high soprano. The echoes rolled back from the walls and seemed to bound forward again. It was almost an incredible thing that was promptly repeated when Jeff blew another note. "Shut that dog up!" Pop shrieked. "I'm trying!" Jeff said desperately. The door opened. Joe Parker came in. Jeff blew again, very softly, and Pal's immediate response filled the room. Their faces angry, Pop and the constable appeared in front of the cell and shouted to make themselves heard. "Quiet!" "What'd you say?" Jeff yelled. "Quiet!" Pal stopped howling, but he stopped so abruptly that the constable still shouted. "If you can't make that dog be quiet, I'll take him out of here!" Pal voiced the snarl that followed his howling and both men stepped back. Joe Parker's hand dipped to his gun.