Read Online Ten Little Bloodhounds by Virginia Lanier - Free Book Online

my feet back and forth, pretending to walk, and called, “pull, pull,” and then bent to the task.
    I strained and felt the line move. Without looking back, I pulled and yelled and pulled. I heard the heavy cover scraping across the edge. The grating sound was beautiful music to my ears. I kept yelling and pulling, so when the cover became lopsided, the heavy side slid over the edge, landed on the sand, and released all pressure from the rope. I hit the dirt lightheaded with success. Ivanhoe ran up and began licking my face.
    I fended him off with my elbows and gave him his well-earned praise. I unwound his lead from my waist, replaced it, and unfastened the rope. When Ivanhoe was again tied to a tree, I coiled the rope and returned it to my backpack.
    I pulled the flashlight out of my pocket and checked the time. Half past six. I had a few minutes of daylight left. I trudged wearily toward the well. This was the moment of truth.
Is she, or isn’t she?

8
“Delivering the Goods”
October 2, Monday, 6:30 P.M.
    I leaned over the edge, making sure my body was not touching any part of the well. I wasn’t sure how strong the sides were and I didn’t want to put any pressure on them until I knew how stable they were. It wouldn’t be any fun if I discovered Amelia was down there, then knocked half the wall in on top of her.
    The inside of the well was dark, and at first, even with the flashlight, I saw only algae-coated walls and dark water several feet down. The sun was behind me, but it was still bright enough to make my light’s beam look puny and ineffective. I leaned over and quartered the area. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the dim interior. I sensed movement and turned my light. Two bright green orbs were caught in its beam, and their color was reflected back to me.
    “Amelia? Is that Amelia down there?”
    I heard a plaintive,
“Meow?”
    “It is Amelia!” I answered, talking cat talk to assure her I wasn’t the enemy and deliverance was near.
    “Amelia, you couldn’t prove your identity to me, you look like a drowned rat! Are you sure you’re Amelia?”
    I wanted to keep her looking up, so I knew where she was. Without the reflection of her eyes, I would have trouble finding her again. She was about eight feet below, and the water seemed to be up to her neck. All I could see was a head. I hated to move the light, as she had been down there a lot of hours already, and I didn’t want her to think I was leaving, but I had to get the rope and decide how I was going to get her out.
    I kicked the side gingerly with my foot and tried pushing the top rim with my hand. It felt solid. I heard a small splash and looked down, and couldn’t see her eyes. I finally found her with the light and sucked in a breath when I saw her struggling in the water. She was trying to get her body back on what she had been clinging to. I couldn’t see what it was because it was underwater.
    She seemed to be moving in slow motion, but she finally dragged herself back up on her precarious perch. She wasn’t standing on the bottom, she was balancing on something to keep her head above water and not drown. I felt a lump in my throat when I wondered how many times she had slipped off and had to pull herself out of the water during yesterday afternoon, a long night, and most of today.
    I still find it hard to think of man’s inhumanity to animals even when I’m staring it in the face. Did heknow that she would find a way to survive, or had he merely tossed her in and covered her up? I say he, although there are females just as capable of cruelty as males.
    I couldn’t come up with a way to lift her out. I got the rope and lowered it near her to measure the distance I would have to lower myself to the water. My estimate was close. It was seven and a half feet to Amelia’s head. I lowered the rope again and tried to hold it close to her face. I was talking nonsense to let her know I was trying to save her.
    “Now, Amelia, grab the