The quick flash of a pencil-ray flicked in a lance above the dog's nose:
Buregarde snapped back as the lancet of light cut downward, then snapped
forward for a quick look outside as the little pencil of danger
flickered dark.
"Careful, Bo!"
"You call the boys," snapped the dog. "I'll--"
* * * * *
Something came twisting forward to hit the doorframe, it dropped just
inside the doorjamb. Buregarde leaped, snapped at the thing and caught
it in midair, snapped his head in a vicious shake and sent it whirling
back outside again before it could be identified. The dog sunfished and
landed on all four. Then the thing went off with a dull _pouf_! outside.
There was a gentle flash of quick light that was smothered by a billow
of smoke. Buregarde leaped into the cloud and disappeared. There was a
hoarse shriek and the mad scrabble of dog-claws on the hard floor, the
sound of a heavy thud, and the angry snarl of a dog with its teeth
fastened into something soft. Then there was the fast patter of dog-feet
and Buregarde came around the door on a dead run, sliding side-wise to
carom off the opened door into safety just as a pencil-ray flicked to
follow him.
"Got him," said the dog in a satisfied tone. "That's one!"
He took his post by the doorframe again, the tip of his nose just
outside. There was a consultation out there in the hallway, at which
Buregarde called, "Make a wild rush for us!"