"Come on, come on," groaned Toby impatiently. "It's already past noon. Where are they?"

"Calm down," said his mother. "They'll get here."

Toby sighed. "But when?" he asked. "Dad said they'd be out for two weeks and get back by noon today."

"Toby, please relax," said Terry. "They might have been held up for some reason."

Toby stared at her. "Mom, aren't you anxious for him to get here?"

"Of course I am. But you're acting like they might never get here. Trust me, they always do. Especially him."

Toby looked frustrated. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just that they almost never run late."

Watching them, Luna rolled her eyes. She knew why Toby was so anxious for the sled to arrive. This wasn't the mail team, like most sled runs. Toby was waiting for the police team to get back with his father. They'd been away for two weeks looking for an escaped convict, and Rex had asked Toby to look after Nome in his absence. Toby had accepted the responsibility with extreme determination, which Luna thought was pretty ironic, considering that as a puppy Toby had hated his bloodhound half and shown great determination to not be a tracker like his father. Personally, Luna found it a little annoying that Toby was so busy all the time. But then, she knew she would do the same if her parents asked something similar of her, and it was kind of nice to know that Toby was so dedicated…

"There they are!" Toby barked, snapping Luna out of her thoughts. "They're coming!" In an instant, he was transformed from a statue of tension into a whirlwind of energy.

"Hold it," said Terry, planting a paw on his tail to keep him from dashing out to the sled. "You're not officially off duty yet, Officer Toby."

Toby gave his mother a pleading look. "Mom, please don't talk to me like I have no sense," he said. He cast a quick glance at Luna, then added under his breath, "It's embarrassing―especially in front of Luna." But all the same, he forced himself to stay put.

To their surprise, the sled didn't stop by the jail where they were waiting. It blew right past them and kept going down the street. "Come on!" yelled Toby. The three of them bolted after the sled.

"Hey!" Toby yelled to the dogs pulling the sled. "Where are you going?"

"The vet!" replied Exile, the police team's lead dog. "We've got a big problem!"

"Who is it?" asked Terry. "What's happened?" But by then the team was starting to pull ahead of them again, and they couldn't make out the answer.

"Shortcut!" Luna barked, dashing between the Post Office and the General Store. Toby and Terry followed, and the three of them came out right by the animal hospital where the sled team was just pulling to a stop.

"Dad!" Toby called excitedly, running up to the sled. "Dad!" There was no reply. No bloodhound jumped from the sled. "Dad?" The police chief hurriedly removed a bundle of furs from the sled and headed for the hospital.

Terry gasped. "Toby, look!"

Toby turned to follow his mother's gaze and saw what had her so upset. Sticking out of the fur in the chief's arms was a large, baggy snout that could be mistaken for no other dog in Nome, and the breath caught in Toby's lungs as he realized what had happened.

"Dad!"

Toby snuck back to the clinic that night. The long wait for news on his father's condition had left him irritable and impatient―he hadn't been allowed inside the operating room―and he was often found pacing in front of the fireplace in his home. He was so worried that nobody could get him to take a breath and relax; Luna, Terry and Charlie all tried, though Charlie wasn't able to help much, and it wasn't just the fact that humans and animals generally don't understand each other the same way.

When he arrived, Luna was already there waiting for him. "He's been calling for you ever since he heard sounds out here," she said. She pushed the window open. "Better get in there."

Toby nodded, jumping through the open window. The room was dark. "Dad?" he called softly, peering around.

"Over here," said a groggy voice from one of the cages.

Toby trotted over. "Dad, are you okay? You sound different."

"It's the medicine they gave me while they were getting the bullet out. It hasn't quite worn off yet."

Toby put his paws up against the mesh. "Dad, what happened?"

He was answered with a snarl. "Bryan Lawrence happened. I had him cornered when he pulled a gun, fired twice, and took off. Lucky for me only one shot found its mark."

"The chief says he's gonna send someone else out to get him."

"I know," said Rex. "Toby, I want that someone to be you."

Toby's ears perked up in surprise. "Me?" he asked. "But I don't have any training. I don't know anything about tracking criminals."

"You tracked Steele once, didn't you?" asked Rex. "It's the same thing. Toby, listen. I'm out of action until I heal up, and you've got the next best nose in town. If you can't do it, nobody can."

"But I don't…"

"Listen," said Rex, and Toby could tell he was falling asleep. "Need I remind you that this man is a killer? You have to do this. Do it for them. Do it for me. But please do it."

Toby nodded. "I'll do it," he promised. "I'll find him, and I'll bring him back." His brow furrowed ominously. "Dead or alive."

"Alive!" snapped Rex. "I stand for justice, and I won't have my son turning into a vigilante. Bring him back, but please promise me that you won't do it for revenge."

Toby nodded. "I promise." Only now, as his eyes adjusted, did he see how poorly his father looked. Bandages were wrapped around his chest and neck, and there were some stitches under his right shoulder. Traces of blood still matted the spot where the vet had cut open the wound to remove the bullet then stitched back together. It was almost too much. Rex had always been a strong dog, a figure who radiated compassion and deserved respect. But now he looked weak and sick. Toby struggled not to cry. "Goodnight, dad," he said as he left.

He jumped out the window, and Luna pulled it closed. "What's up?" she asked. Toby turned toward her and she saw his tears, and her first thought was that Rex was worse off than they feared. "Is he okay?"

Toby scowled angrily. "I'm going after him," he said.

"Who?"

"The criminal who did this to my father," he answered. "I'm going to find him, then I'm going to make him pay for all of it."

Luna had never seen Toby truly angry; frustrated and annoyed, but not angry. Now that she had, she knew that it would be an image forever lodged in her memory, and she hoped that he never got angry at her. "I'll see what I can find out," she offered. "If Haley and Phoebe don't know, there's not a dog in Nome who does."

"Thanks," said Toby, although the word sounded flat and dead even to him.

Toby went back to visit his father again the next day, his paws dragging. His worry for his father had kept him up most of the night, and when he finally dozed off his sleep was shallow and fitful. Thus, he'd gotten little rest. But his exhaustion was banished when he saw that his father seemed to be better. "How long until they let you out?" he asked.

"At least a month, give or take a few days," answered Rex. He eyed the recovery cage contemptuously. Its mesh of stainless-steel bars was woven into squares too small for a dog smart enough to reach a paw through and unpin the lock. "And if this cage wasn't so small, I'd be a lot happier about it."

Toby nodded, then pressed right to the heart of the matter. "How do I get the chief to pick me for the job?"

"Oh, that's easy enough. Just go to him and he'll recognize you."

"Are you sure? I've grown a lot since the last time he saw me."

"Trust me. He's worried sick about me right now. He drops by every hour on the dot just to see me. Just show up and he'll see the resemblance between us. He didn't get to be chief of police by being ignorant, you know."

"Okay," Toby agreed. "Should I go right now?"

Rex nodded firmly. "Absolutely. The sooner we get you on that search team, the better."

Toby headed for the window. "I'll let you know how it goes," he promised.

"If you get the chance," Rex said with a laugh, "bring me a bone with a file in it so I can get out of this blasted cage!"

Toby returned half an hour later, disgust written all over his face. His brow was arched downward and he muttered angrily to himself. Rex was surprised. "What happened?"

Toby growled. "Nothing!" he snapped. "Absolutely no response! I thought you said he was smart!"

Rex sighed. "Didn't work, huh?"

"No, it didn't!" snarled Toby. "I walked in and looked him right in the face and all he did was chase me out!"

"Hmm," said Rex. "This may be tricky." For a long time, they discussed possible ideas before finally settling on one. Toby would come in while the chief was visiting Rex, and then he would see both of them side by side.

"But what if that doesn't work?" asked Toby.

Rex set his jaw. "I'm out of ideas, so we'll just have to pray that it does."

After what felt like an eternity, the chief showed up to visit Rex. "How's he doing?" he asked the doctor.

"Very well, considering what he's been through," answered the doctor.

"Now, Toby," whispered Rex, although all either of the men heard was a soft woof.

Toby came out of his hiding place behind the cages. "Hey!" said the doctor. "You're not supposed to be in here!"

"I remember you!" said the chief. "You're that dog who came into my house this morning!" He reached down to grab Toby by the collar, then stopped. There was something familiar about him now that he hadn't seen before. He looked back and forth between Toby and Rex several times. Then the lightbulb blinked on. "Of course!" he said, slapping himself on the forehead. "Why didn't I see it before? You're one of the pups from that litter Rex and that husky had!" Toby barked and sat down, offering his paw to shake. The chief laughed. "Here I've been thinking my brains out, and the answer walks right up to me!"

"What answer?" asked the doctor.

"I need a good nose to track down that rat," answered the chief, scratching Toby behind the ears. "And who better for the job than Rex's own son?" He studied the blusky's collar tags. "Come on then, Toby. Let's go see if your owner will allow it."