But Simon Midkiff took best of show. I studied his face, wondering what had been in his mind that day. Had he been sent to pump me for information? Had he come on his own? My scientific coleagues often attend one another's lectures. Was it he who had faxed me the code name list? If so, why would he divulge his complicity?

My musings were interrupted by a sharp yip, folowed by another.

Poor Boyd. He was the only being on the planet whose loyalty never wavered, and I ignored him. I checked my watch. Eight-twenty. Time for a quick run before Crowe arrived at nine.

I locked my computer and briefcase in the wardrobe in case Eli decided on a return engagement. Then I threw on my jacket, grabbed flashlight and leash, and headed downstairs.

Night had taken ful control, ushering in a zilion stars but no moon. The porch lights did little to dispel the darkness. As I crossed the lawn, my limbic system began firing questions.

What if someone is watching?

Like Eli the Avenging Adolescent?

What if the cal was not a prank?

Don't be melodramatic, I reasoned. It's the weekend after Haloween, and kids are kicking up their heels. You left messages with McMahon and Crowe.

What if they don't check?

The sheriff wil be here in forty minutes.

A stalker might be out there right now.

What could happen in the company of a seventy-pound chow?

That seventy-pound chow yipped again, and I sprinted the last few yards to his pen. Hearing footsteps, he placed forepaws on the chain-linking and raised himself to a That seventy-pound chow yipped again, and I sprinted the last few yards to his pen. Hearing footsteps, he placed forepaws on the chain-linking and raised himself to a bipedal stance.

When he recognized me, Boyd went balistic, pushing back, bounding forward, jumping up, and pushing off the fence again. He repeated the cycle several times, like a hamster on a wheel, then stood again on hind feet, threw back his head, and barked steadily.

Saying doggy things, I ruffled his ears and clipped on the leash. He nearly dragged me chowside in his lunge toward the gate.

'We're only going to the end of the property,' I warned, leveling a finger at his nose.

He cocked his head, twirled the brows, and yipped once. When I lifted the latch, he bounded out and raced in circles, nearly toppling me.

'I envy your energy, Boyd.'

He lapped my face as I disentangled the leash from between his legs, then we started up the road. Light from the porch barely reached the edge of the lawn, and within ten yards I clicked on my flash. Boyd stopped and growled.

'It's a flashlight, boy.'

I reached down and patted his shoulder. He rotated his head and licked my hand, then doubled back, did a little dance, and pressed his body against my legs.