Shep’s bark was more like the shout of an angry old gentlemen telling someone to mind his manners. “About time you got here,” Shep would seem to say. Or, “Stop that nonsense immediately.”

“Rrarhf!” said Shep now. It was exactly as if he had snapped, “Get back here at once!”

“Shep,” said Rolf slowly, “I’m in no mood for that today. Do you hear me?”

“Huroof!” said Shep.

“What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

“Rharf! Rharf rharuff!”

“Listen, I’m going down this trail whether you like it or not.”

“Rruff!”

“Then I’ll go by myself!”

“Rrarhr!”

“Suit yourself,” said Rolf, turning around and getting the bike started again. “Just go on and suit yourself!”

He rode off. After a few minutes, and a couple of bends of the trail, he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced down to see Shep once more pacing beside him.

“Mrrmp,” muttered Shep darkly, deep in his woolly throat. But he kept moving alongside the bike. Rolf felt a small twinge of guilt.

“I do things you want to do sometimes, don’t I?” Rolf demanded.

Shep was silent now. He trotted along with his black nose in the air. Rolf shrugged and gave up. Shep’s reluctance to go down the trail was making Rolf all the more curious to see where it led. He must have been down this trail before, because he had roamed all over the trails in the Playalinda Beach area at one time or another. But just now he couldn’t remember when, or which way this particular trail led.

They were mounting a small rise to a sandy top. Nothing could be seen beyond the top of the rise except the hot blue sky. Under Rolf’s hard-pumping legs, the bicycle mounted to the crest and then pitched steeply down into a long dip.

Never saw this spot before! Rolf thought.