The door creaked. He opened one eye and peered out through the legs of a chair. It was Mort, nosing the door open.
"Rollie? You okay?"
"Whuf," Roland offered. "I didn't think anyone was coming."
"We wondered where YOU were. Did you forget about the caper?"
Roland stood straight up, banging his head on the table support. He lurched out into the room. "The caper!" he exclaimed. "I forgot all about it! How did it go? Is... wait a minute." He peered around suspiciously. "Where's the pack?"
"That's the thing, Roll..."
"Mort! What happened?"
Mort sighed and looked mournful as only a bassett hound can. "They're all stuck. You know that weird thing over the fireplace? It has everyone cornered. There's something to do with the mirror, and... and I came to get you," he finished feebly.
"Well, let's go then." The old bulldog fixed his most intimidating scowl on his brow and puffed out his chest.
"Shoes or no shoes?"
He considered. "No shoes. Won't do to wake up the whole household, will it?"
They stole into the hall, Roland wheezing gently.