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enough to take the weight of that wagon.”
    “Run along and play with your sister, shrimp.” Jerry had dropped to his knees and was adjusting the poles that were attached to the sides of the wagon. “Nobody asked for your advice. We’re getting along just fine without it.”
    “You are, huh?” Bruce tried to control the anger that was building inside him. “You’ve got a beautiful dog there. What do you want to do, cripple him?”
    Jerry finished knotting the poles to the rope harness. Then he got slowly to his feet. His face was dark with fury.
    “Let’s get something straight. This is my dog —
mine!
He belongs to me, and I’ll do what I want with him.” He turned to the dog and snapped his fingers. “Up, Red! Let’s see you go!”
    The dog took a tentative step forward. The rope pulled tight against his chest, and he paused, bewildered. He was being ordered ahead and held back at the same time. He wasn’t certain what was expected of him.
    “Bruce is right, Jerry,” Tim said, as he saw the animal’s confusion. “This is a game to you, but it isn’t one to Red. Let’s get him out of this tangle and play something else.”
    The other two boys, whom Bruce knew only from having seen them at school, had drawn off a few paces, reluctant to become involved in the argument. They were looking at each other uncomfortably as though wishing they were somewhere else.
    Jerry snapped his fingers again. “Giddyup, Red! Do you hear me?”
    At the sound of his master’s voice, the dog cringed and sank down to a crouch between the traces.
    “You see?” Bruce said. “He won’t even try. He’s got enough sense to know he’ll hurt himself.”
    “He’ll try, all right, if he knows what’s good for him. Come on, guys, help me get him going!” Jerry motioned to the watching boys. “You give him a shove while I get out in front and call him.”
    Bruce could stand it no longer.
    “Leave him alone!” he shouted. “The poor thing’s already scared to death! If anybody shoves him anyplace, I’m going to go get my dad!”
    “Oh, you are, huh?” Jerry’s reaction was quick and violent. Catching Bruce by the shoulder, he gave him a hard shove backward.
    Bruce’s legs buckled as the edge of the wagon caught him at the back of the knees. An instant later, all breath went out of him as his shoulders struck the floor of the wagon and his head hit the sharp wooden corner.
    “Now, that’s what our horse has been waiting for — a load to pull!” Jerry gave an excited laugh. “You stay right there, shrimp! You’re going to get a ride you’ll never forget!”
    Raising the end of the leash high above his head, he brought it down with all his strength across the dog’s lean haunches. Then, for good measure, he kicked as hard as he could at Red’s left flank.
    “Cool it, Jerry!” Tim’s face was a mask of horror. “What are you trying to do, kill him?”
    Leaping forward, he grabbed for the leash, but the interference came too late. Red Rover let out a high-pitched, almost human, scream of fear and pain and threw himself against the harness.
    Bruce felt the wagon lurch beneath him and dazedly tried to pull himself to a sitting position.He was rolling along the sidewalk. The curb loomed ahead. Bruce threw himself over the edge of the wagon and onto the ground, just as the wagon crashed over the curb and into the street.
    Free of Bruce’s weight, the wagon flew forward, striking the dog’s hind legs. This new assault was the final spur to the terrified animal. He plunged frantically out into the middle of the street, dragging the wagon behind him.
    It was Tim who saw the car as it rounded the corner.
    “Get him back!” he shouted, but by the time the words left his lips it was already too late. With a crash of splintering wood, the front wheel of the car struck the wagon and crushed it into the street.
    Red Rover, the rope harness streaming behind him, tore free of the wreckage and kept running. A moment