“How do you stop it?” Jon-Tom demonstrated. Kamaulk nodded, satisfied.

“And this?” He tapped the refrigerator handle with his knife.

“It keeps food from spoiling.” Maybe Kamaulk wouldn’t get bored with his survey of modern inventions. The longer he could stall the captain the more time there was to think of something. Not that there seemed much anyone could do with a bunch of heavily armed pirates milling around in the other room.

“Pull the handle.”

Kamaulk did so and jumped back as a puff of chilled air struck him. He blinked, then waddled forward to study the porcelain-on-steel interior.

“Wonderful.” He looked back at Sasheem. “We’re going to take some of these marvels back with us. Trade will make us the wealthiest company of buccaneers the world has ever seen.” He glanced curiously at the portable TV that sat atop one of the kitchen cabinets. “And what is that thing?”

“Television. Magic picture box.” He tried not to reveal the sudden surge of excitement that raced through him as he winked at Mudge. The otter’s expression did not change, but Jon-Tom saw him stiffen slightly.

Kamaulk squinted at the blank screen. “What does it do?”

“Turn the knob on the bottom right all the way to the left, then pull it out ’til it clicks.” He gathered himself. Maybe they would get lucky. If a sufficiently loud, violent show flared to life it might startle or frighten the pirates enough to enable Mudge and himself to get their hands on some weapons. Starsky and Hutch, a war movie, the evening news, anything really repellent and noisy.

What they got instead was a tape of the Royal Ballet doing the pas de deux from the Nutcracker Suite. He cursed helplessly.

“Lovely.” Kamaulk turned the volume down to an acceptable level and grinned at Jon-Tom. “You see how quickly I adapt to new things. But why are there only humans in the picture?”

“That brings up something about my world you aren’t going to like.” As he began to explain, the lights went out.

“Freeze! Everybody!”

There was barely enough time for Jon-Tom to identify the accent as Spanish before a number of things happened all at once. Kamaulk yelled an oath, Jon-Tom leaped toward his friends and shouted for them to drop to the floor, Sasheem roared and charged and thunder and lightning echoed through the little house.

“Great rubbing post of God, what was that?” Weegee whimpered.

Jon-Tom shushed her. “Quiet. Whatever you do, don’t breathe another word when the lights come back on. Understand? Say nothing unless I give you a sign, no matter what happens. Mudge, Cautious, that goes for you, too.”

Mass confusion reigned in the den as the remaining pirates practically broke down the screen door in their anxiety to flee. Jon-Tom could visualize them scrambling in panic to reach the tunnel that led back to their own world. The air in the kitchen stank of gunpowder and blood. Then the lights came back on.

Standing by the back door was a swarthy man in his late thirties. He had curly black hair, a thin mustache, and one finger on the light switch. Jon-Tom thought he was a dead ringer for one of the extras who composed the background of Miami Vice. The sawed-off twelve gauge he cupped against his forearm was no prop.

Directly across the floor Sasheem lay sprawled on his back with a gaping hole in his chest. Kamaulk had flown up onto a cabinet and perched there, staring wide-eyed at the body of his first mate and wondering whence his brave crew had fled.

“Madre de dios.” The intruder took his hand off the light switch and stared down at the dead leopard. Another Latino paused in the den door, a large pistol dangling from his fist. His eyes flicked over the spotted corpse before coming to rest on Jon-Tom and his friends.

“What thee hell ees going on here?” He looked to his buddy. “I was comeeng een thee front door an’ theese damn zoo nearly run over me.”

“Big cat jumped me.” The other man’s accent was not as thick as that of the pistolero. “What’s with all these animals in clothes?”

Mudge made as if to reply, clammed up as Jon-Tom frantically put finger to his lips. The otter nodded imperceptibly and both movements went unnoticed by the armed intruders. They were too busy examining Sasheem’s body.

The pistolero muttered the name “Cruz” and that worthy turned to point the sawed-off in Jon-Tom’s general direction. “You. You tell me what’s going on here. Where the hell did all these animals come from?” He leaned to his left and saw Cautious squatting under the kitchen table. “That’s the biggest damn raccoon I’ve ever seen.”

“They’re mine.” Mudge nipped him on the leg but he winced and ignored it. “They belong to me. I’m an animal trainer. These are all specially trained performers.” He nodded at Sasheem. “When you turned on the lights you panicked the leopard. He’s really quite harmless. A great loss.”

“Hey mon, he panicked me pretty good. I was just defending myself. You part of a circus or something? We didn’t see no tents outside.”

“More of a private traveling show. I’m kinda down on my luck. Got kicked out of the company. At least they let me take my animals with me. Maybe you could give me a hand? I understand about the leopard. Just tough luck.”

“Give you a hand?” Cruz grinned in a way Jon-Tom didn’t like. “What’s with the getup?” He indicated Sasheem’s vest and short pants, the sword lying next to the leopard’s body, and the bandolier of stilettoes that crossed his broad chest.

“I told you, they’re all trained. It’s all part of the act.”

“I never saw an act like that.”

“Hey, I deed once.” The pistolero’s eyes lit with recognition. “In Vegas. You know, mon, them Siegfreed and Roy guys? They dress some of their animals up.”

“Is this your place?” Jon-Tom asked innocently.

Cruz found this very amusing. “Let’s just say we use it as a stopover on our way north. You might say we’re traveling salesmen, Manco and I. A raccoon that big. What kind of tricks can your animals do?”

Jon-Tom stared hard at Mudge and Weegee. “They can’t do anything unless I tell them to. But I’ve trained them to walk on their hind legs all the time.”

“That’s about enough of this bilge-pus.” Everyone’s eyes went to the top of the high cabinet. Cruz gave Kamaulk the approving eye.

“Biggest parrot I ever saw, too. That’s a sharp outfit you’ve got on him.”

“What the blazes are you two morons blabbering about?”

Jon-Tom tensed, but Cruz and his partner found Kamaulk’s comments entertaining rather than insulting. “Hey, that’s pretty good! You teach him all that?”

“Not exactly.” Jon-Tom’s throat was dry. “He kind of picked up a lot of it himself. He’s very clever. I don’t know myself what he’s going to say next.”

“Bugger the lot o’ you!” The pirate folded his wings over his chest. “Do what you will with me. I’m not frightened of you.”

“Cute.” Cruz forgot about the parrot and turned his attention back to Jon-Tom. “You, I’m not so sure you’re cute. More like a problem.”

“Look, let’s just forget about the trained leopard and I’ll let bygones be bygones, okay? I didn’t know this was your house and I’ll be glad to pay for the food. I had to do something. My animals were starving. And I’ve got to try to catch the others before they’ve gone too far.” He took a hopeful step toward the far door, grunted as Cruz shoved the business end of the sawed-off into his belly.

“Your pets’ll just have to wait, compadre. You don’t need so many animals anyway. Why don’t you hitch a ride with us? We’ll drop you at a phone and you can call the local animal shelter.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I don’t want to cause you guys any trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” Cruz gestured with the shotgun. “We’re ready to leave right now. See, we just stopped for a few minutes to pick up some luggage we have to deliver up north. Chicago. We don’t mind company.” His expression darkened. “Out back now. Bring your animals with you if you want.”

“What about my stuff?” He gestured toward the backpacks and weapons.

Cruz walked over, picked up the ramwood staff, then Mudge’s longbow. “Check ’em out, Manco.” The other man obediently went through both packs.

“Cleen.”

“Okay, you can have these.” He tossed both packs to Jon-Tom, who caught them gratefully. “These other toys,” and he admired Mudge’s short sword as he held it up to the light, “I think maybe we keep with us. I know a good pawn shop in Chicago.” He grinned. “Payment for your ride, no?”

Under watchful eyes Jon-Tom, his friends and Kamaulk were herded out back of the empty garage and into a waiting truck. With all the noise and confusion attendant upon the pirates’ earlier arrival he hadn’t heard it drive up. It was a U-Haul with a fourteen-foot bed. The back end they scrambled into was filled with cheap household furniture. He frowned. Furniture movers didn’t usually travel with heavy artillery. Cruz secured their weapons in a steel footlocker.