Bolts Read Free

man who was seldom stopped by anything.
    Just to put a proper finish to it, Bolts snapped his teeth on Comrade Pang’s trousers, ripped off a sizable bit of cloth, then sprang to the door. This time he thrust it open and dashed out into the night.
    Behind him he heard the major shouting in a fury. “After him! Everybody after him! Tell Lopez to call his guards! We’ve got to catch that little monster if it’s the last thing we do!”

2
    He Turns Up Missing
    Several hours after the box containing Bolts was carried away in one direction, the other box that should have had Bolts inside was brought to Battleship Lane.
    It was nearly dark by the time the truck rolled into the lane. Big Butch, the huge clumpy robot who took care of Commander Brown, had been watching for it all afternoon. Butch, wearing a kitchen apron and a chef’s cap, should have been doing a hundred other things—but how can you keep your mind on your cooking when a new member as special as Bolts is due to arrive at any moment? A real robot dog! Nothing had delighted Big Butch more in all the time he had lived on Battleship Lane.
    As the truck rolled up to the door, Big Butch took one look at it and went thumping through the house, crying out, “Hey Bingo! Come quick! Bolts is here!”
    It was electrifying news. It woke up Pirate, the commander’s old green parrot, who immediately started squawking, “All hands on deck! Look alive! Butch says Bolts is here!” It made Claws, the commander’s black cat, forget about mouse-hunting, and it brought red-headed Bingo and the bald-headed commander on the run—Commander Brown puffing and wheezing, and Bingo crying excitedly, “Hot diggity!” while he dashed for the door as fast as his skinny legs could carry him.

    They all poured eagerly outside, Bingo in the lead, with Pirate squawking on his shoulder, followed by big clumpy Butch, curious Claws, the cat, and the puffing commander, who was waddling proof that Butch was entirely too clever in the kitchen.
    In the lane they stopped, surprised to see the truck driver unloading a box. Somehow no one had realized that Bolts would come crated. Even Bingo had had the idea that Bolts would arrive with his switch turned on, and would hop yapping off the truck, with his tail wagging.
    â€œBad business!” squawked Pirate as the truck driver put the box on the ground and Bingo signed for it. “Very bad business! Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong!”
    â€œPipe down!” ordered the commander. “There’s nothing wrong about Bolts’s being crated. Butch, take him into the shop. We can’t unpack him out here.”
    â€œAye, aye, sir,” the big robot said uneasily, for Pirate had a perfectly awful instinct that was nearly always right. As he picked up the box and carried it into the workshop, he hoped that Bolts would be everything that Bingo wanted him to be. No one needed a dog more than Bingo Brown—but it had to be a very special robot dog, and not a real one. A real one simply wouldn’t do, especially for space traveling.
    â€œI hope his growl is just right,” Bingo said anxiously, hurrying to bring tools. His mass of red hair seemed to be aflame with excitement, but his eyes behind his huge horn-rimmed glasses were suddenly worried.
    â€œAw, he’ll have a howling horror of a growl—and teeth to go with it,” Big Butch assured him. “Don’t pay any attention to that crazy bird.”
    â€œI’m not a crazy bird!” Pirate cried angrily. “I’m older than Bilgewater, and twice as wise. And I know what’s what.”
    Commander Brown glared at his parrot. “Do you want to be court-martialed?” he said severely. “My name is Bridgewater—not Bilgewater. Only my worst friends call me that. Hurry up, Butch—open that box!”
    â€œAye, aye, sir. One moment, sir. You forget, sir, that I’m