The hot weather had been constant throughout the summer, and the day of the Temple Gurney Show was no exception. Apple and Jude had changed into cotton summer dresses to try to stay cool in the heat, and Mick put on his favorite Hawaiian shirt, which was pink and orange and clashed horribly with his skinny red jeans. Woody had been unable to resist rolling in the carcass of a putrid seagull, which meant another dip in Hallo Vera. This time, the smell was so bad that Jude had dabbed sweet-smelling patchouli oil behind his ears.

“He looks really handsome, thanks to your efforts,” said Jude, stepping back to appreciate Woody’s debonair new appearance. “Look at his face. It’s like he knows we’re talking about him.”

If only you knew, thought Nat, smiling.

The show field was packed. There were long white tents full of flowers and vegetables arranged on trestle tables that seemed to stretch on forever. Apple had entered her “mums,” which Nat found out was short for chrysanthemums, and Mick had entered his onions, which were roughly the size of small planets. The show ring, where currently the fire brigade was demonstrating putting out fires, was where Nat and Woody would compete later on. There was a smaller tent, too, outside of which numerous men whom Nat recognized as Mick’s pals from the Slaughtered Sheep stood gossiping and drinking bacony-smelling cider from plastic cups as big as pitchers. Nat was amazed to see the crowds that thronged to the fair: He hadn’t realized there were so many people living in Temple Gurney.

Nat looked to see if Mr. Tate was standing with the other farmers outside the cider tent and was disappointed to see there was no sign of him. He would have liked to ask him some questions about Woody, starting with the mysterious tattoo.

Mick fought his way out of the crowd, clutching melting Popsicles for all of them. Apple and Jude went to browse inside the “Blue Moon New Age” tent, and Mick spotted a few of his cribbage friends outside the cider tent. He was licking his lips expectantly.

“Be all right on your own for a bit?” he asked Nat.

Nat nodded. “Don’t forget to come and watch the dog show, though.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Mick grinned. Then his face turned serious. “But listen, Nat. Don’t speak to any strange people. I mean it, mind.”

Nat gave a wry smile. Most of the people in Temple Gurney were strange because he hadn’t been introduced to them, and, the rest were … well, just strange.