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not talk. He had had no idea a girl could be this obnoxious. It hadn't shown in her letters at all.
    They cut through a section of the copse, then across the pasture toward the town limit, seemingly aimlessly. Perhaps it was aimless, he thought miserably. If Betsy was this difficult already, what would she be like when the going got rough? He might be better off to make the break alone. Except that he had promised, and he couldn't risk leaving her behind to give away all their secrets.
    Two things were certain: He was not going to stay in the zoo, and he wasn't going to desert Canute.
    "This is the township line," he said aloud. "Up farther there's a path back toward Newton. We can go back that way." He suspected that the supervisors could see and hear in the vicinity of the fence, by day at least, and this would put them off guard. They would figure they could relax for ten or fifteen minutes. That was part of the plan.
    Halfway to the path he detoured silently into a patch of forest while Betsy walked straight ahead, chatting innocently about the weather. He brought out two poles. He handed one to her. If she were serious, this was the crisis point. If not....
    Without waiting he ran at the fence, jammed his pole into the ground, and vaulted neatly over. He could have hurdled it without a pole, since he had practiced high jumping in the past year, but this was safer. He landed, kept his feet, and ran for the cover of a tree.
    "...but I do admit it's cooler under the trees, here," Betsy was saying, but she was running as he looked back. "Shade and a little breeze, and who needs air conditioning?" She vaulted over as easily as he, her dress spreading out like a parachute as she dropped. Her pole fell next to his on the inside. In a moment she joined him at the tree.
    "Watch," he whispered, not certain whether he was pleased or frustrated at the certainty of her commitment. She was smart and athletic, obviously, but her personality....
    Canute came up and caught the first pole in his teeth, dragging it away from the fence. He tugged it back into the forest, out of sight. Then he returned for the second. John didn't say anything. He was sure this had made his point: Canute's presence was justified. It had never occurred to him before that she might challenge the dog's right to make the escape with them.
    Canute emerged from the trees again, charged the fence, and leaped easily over it. Betsy didn't comment.
    They had perhaps ten minutes before probable discovery. More if they were lucky, less if unlucky. And a few more minutes for the pursuit to develop actively. In that time they had to accomplish the second phase of their escape.
    John led the way to a forest cache. He scraped away leaves and dirt to reveal a package. He hauled it out, shook it off, and opened it. Inside were clothes of modern Standard type, cosmetic paste and spray, and an ID key. He was no longer shy or awkward, now that the escape was in progress. He had worked hard to assemble these supplies and knew exactly what to do with them. So did Betsy. They had discussed this thoroughly by code correspondence.
    "Hurry," he said. "I'll spray you, and you spray me. It has to be all over, because they'll probably check." He began to undress.
    "I'm not stripping in front of any boy!" she said.
    John exploded with exasperation. "Do you want to escape, or don't you?"
    She looked at him coldly. "If you were smart, you'd have come prepared. I have already sprayed myself where it doesn't show." She pushed back one sleeve to show him where her white skin turned brown. "All I need is the paste for my face and hands."
    She was right, but it didn't make her any easier to get along with. She had taken a terrible chance, wearing Standard brown while traveling with her folks! "All right. You go behind a tree and change, Miss Modest. I'll change here."
    She sorted quickly through the clothes and lifted the feminine set. Standards didn't actually differentiate the style for the