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building. Work with Pax and keep your attention on him, and don’t even glance in Scout’s direction. Once you’re within five or ten yards of the trash bins, I’ll come out of hiding, and he’ll be between us.”
    â€œOkay. We’re ready anytime you are,” she said, her hand on Pax’s head.
    â€œWell, good-bye, Sister Agatha. You, too, Pax,” Chuck said loudly, waving his hand, then walking away.
    Sister Agatha pretended to examine Pax’s paw for stickers, then stood. Walking at a leisurely pace with Pax at heel, she made her way slowly to the rear of the building, near the area where two staff cars were parked. Beyond, Scout stood near the cottonwoods, searching the trash.
    She’d come within twenty feet of the trash when Chuck stepped around the corner. He was actually looking the other way, pretending to be talking to someone else, but Scout, seeing him, suddenly panicked. Realizing that she and Chuck were approaching him from separate directions, he yelped and, breaking from his hiding place, took off, racing past Sister Agatha.
    Pax lunged at the running man, yanking hard at his leash. Sister Agatha could have stopped Pax from chasing Scout, but that would have defeated any chance she might have had of catching up to him. Allowing Pax to tug her along, she hiked up her skirt and ran across the grass.
    â€œWait!” she called out to Scout.
    The frightened man jumped a hedge and raced down the wide ditch bank, which also served as a flood levee for the river, a quarter of a mile away.
    Chuck hadn’t exaggerated. Scout could sprint faster thananyone else she’d ever seen on two legs. Despite Pax’s enthusiasm, she could barely keep up. Scout was already fifty yards down the bank. He never looked back, intent on his escape. Then he swerved and headed straight toward the ditch.
    At the opposite bank of the five-foot-deep muddy stream was a dirt road that gave access to the conservancy district vehicles. The gap was at least ten feet wide.
    â€œDon’t! You won’t make it!” she yelled. Wearing a dusty backpack bulging with perhaps all his worldly possessions, he had no chance.
    Scout jumped. His arms and legs flailing wildly, he landed on the steep opposite bank about a yard above water level. He then flopped forward up onto the road, landing on his belly and the palms of his hands. Completing a comical-looking somersault, he rolled up onto his feet, crossed the road in two bounds, then crashed through the stand of willows along the edge of the woods. Within seconds he’d disappeared into the bosque.
    Sister Agatha caught a glimpse of something on the opposite bank where the man had landed and walked toward it for a closer look. Seeing it made her chest tighten.
    â€œWhat did you find?” Chuck asked, panting as he jogged up and looked over Sister Agatha’s shoulder.
    She pointed. “Two hot dogs in a plastic bag. Probably his lunch, and maybe dinner. That poor man!”
    Chuck stood at the edge of the ditch bank, appraising Scout’s amazing leap. “He’s in pretty good shape. I’ll say that much for him.”
    â€œThe man has the wings of an angel,” Sister Agatha agreed. “Even as a kid I couldn’t have made a jump like that.”
    â€œThe nearest bridge across must be half a mile from here,” Chuck said, turning to look both ways down the ditch. “We’ve lost him.”
    â€œI’ve got to figure out a way to get Scout to talk to me,” Sister Agatha said, fingering her rosary thoughtfully.
    â€œThat’s a tall order, Sister, especially after today. From what I’ve heard, he rarely allows anyone to get too close, even those who offer him a meal. That’s probably why he never shows up at any of our homeless shelters, even during the winter.” He paused, then continued. “We may have a lead on a crime that no one, short of an Olympic sprinter, can