Einstein Dog Read Online Free PDF Page B

growled.
    â€œDon’t run!” Charlie bellowed.
    â€œOh nooo!” Bob wailed.
    Then all hell broke loose.
    If Bob Gowler had stood his ground, the outcome might have been entirely different; a lone dog was no match for a full-grown man. But he turned tail and ran, triggering Libra’s herding instincts. She harried and harassed the wailing human, steering him back down the trail toward a fetid mire of green slime and skunk cabbage they’d passed earlier. Driven by her nips and snarls, Bob ran headlong into this stinking cesspool, his legs still churning as he toppled with a mighty splat.
    That’s where Libra left him floundering, like a monster struggling to free itself from the bubbling ooze. Then she ran, her paws drumming the mossy track in an exuberant tattoo, her fur streaming behind her. She held her tail erect, a fluttering pennant. Perhaps she would pay a high price for what she’d done, but this was not the moment for calculating consequences; this was a moment of jubilation.
    Only after her victory did she heed Bertrand’s frantic whistles.
    â€œWhat the heck happened in there?” he demanded when she emerged back at the trailhead.
    Run! she signaled.
    And run they did, out of the forest, across Campus Green, straight back to the Stafford Building.

    Frank Hindquist laughed until his stomach ached and the tears rolled down his cheeks. In other circumstances he might have roared, smashed the desktop and summoned the Gowler brothers into his office. But what he’d witnessed through the Operative Control Unit worn by Bob Gowler had been so hilarious that Hindquist had thought fleetingly he might submit it to one of those inane television shows that featured catastrophic home videos.
    Bob’s squeals of panic; the snarls and snaps of the enraged hound; Charlie’s bellowed commands; the scene tilting as Bob executed a very messy faceplant into the bog . . .
    Hindquist broke down again, convulsed by great sobs of laughter. Still gasping, he wiped a tear from his eye and coughed. He sighed contentedly and glanced about his plush office, as if someone might have been watching his jollity from behind the potted palm or the leather sofa. “Ahem!” he said.
    He had important business to attend to. SMART dog 73 had clearly demonstrated her ability to outwit a human operative in the field, which meant the footage he’d just been laughing at could have some very serious implications. “I must get this to Vlad,” he told his computer. “Make a note of that.” He thought for a second or two, then added, “And be sure to remind him that SMART 73 is obsolete. She’s not the last SMART dog; she’s just a prototype.”

    Professor Smith hadn’t meant to make such a grand entrance into the SMART lab, but he was so distracted, so bursting with conflicting emotions, that he hardly noticed the door as he barged through.
    â€œMy goodness!” Elaine glanced up from her workbench.
    â€œRip the door off its hinges, why don’t you?”
    He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he explained. “I’ve just come back from my meeting with Dean Zolinsky.”
    â€œSay no more,” she consoled. “Was it that bad?”
    â€œGood and bad actually,” he said glumly. “By the end of it I didn’t know whether I should hug her or threaten to hand in my resignation.”
    â€œWell,” Elaine grinned, “I sincerely hope you’d hand in your resignation before you’d hug her. I won’t stand for that.”
    He laughed. Elaine had a way of driving away his worries with a little joke or a brilliant smile. Gently, he touched his research assistant’s cheek.
    Again she smiled. “I thought we weren’t supposed to do that, Professor,” she taunted.
    â€œI love you,” he said.
    Now it was Elaine’s turn to frown.
    He knew what she was thinking. What about Bertrand? When would they be