Pete raced through the winter night, his heart beating like a jackhammer. He had found tracks which he assumed were from a dog, most likely Trixie. The tracks didn't matter. He knew deep down that she had gone this way. He could feel it in his gut. Come on, come on, he mentally abused himself, willing his feet to go faster. He was heading for a place he had been only once. If she's going there now, I'm gonna kill her, he thought. And if she's not, I'll kill her for making me go out of my way.

He entered a copse of pine trees and made a beeline for the place. "Trixie!" he called. "Trixie!" Throwing himself through a tangle of bushes, he stopped. There she was, right at the edge, staring back at him.

"Leave me alone," she groaned, her voice choked with tears.

"Listen," he pleaded, "Just let me―"

"Go away!" she yelled. "You just won't change. You or any of the other boys I've tried to change, and you never do."

"Trixie," he pleaded, "I just wanted…never mind what I want. Just don't do it."

She sniffled. "Don't do what?" she asked.

Pete stuttered. "Uh, well, I uh…I kinda figured you came here to kill yourself."

She snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. I just came here to get away from you."

Pete groaned inwardly and took a step toward her. "Look, I know we got off bad, but―"

"Go away!" she yelled. "Just leave me alone! You guys are dirt, all of you! Now get away or I'll―" The rest of her sentence ended in a scream as the bank crumbled beneath her and she fell head over paws into the foaming water.

"Trixie!" screamed Pete, rushing to the water's edge. He didn't even slow down, just ran out into space and hurled himself into the swirling cauldron.

The water was even colder than he'd imagined, drenching his fur instantly and wrapping his body like the very cloak of death. Worse, it was impossible to tell and even harder to control where he was going. A powerful down current dragged him across the stone bottom, then swept upward and flung him against a small boulder. Over and under, back and forth, like a mouse in a washer filled with rocks and lined with sandpaper. There was no escape, no chance of gripping anything. Pete's mind became filled with one absolute certainty.

He was going to die.

Rex was panting hard as he ran behind his son. Despite the biting cold, he felt unnaturally warm as his muscles strained to keep up. "How you ever talked me into this, I'll never know!" he shouted.

"That makes two of us," Toby called back. "But we must be closing in; the tracks are getting clearer by the minute!"

"And you're sure Pete wasn't up to anything untoward?"

Toby would have shaken his head, but he didn't want to break their stride. "At this point, I'm not sure of anything. I just know he seemed desperate, which to me says he was up to something either really good or really bad."

"Any indication which it was?"

"I'd like to say really good, but after what you told me about his dad's grave marker, I couldn't even guess."

"I sincerely hope it was the first," Rex panted. "I'm going to have a hard time keeping Exile away from his neck after this one."

Pete felt himself floating. The water had grown quiet, but the world was pitch black. He choked, gasped and retched up a stomach full of water. At least he could breathe now. But getting sucked underwater, beaten up by rocks and nearly drowning had all taken their toll. As blood leaked through several places where skin had been gashed or rubbed raw, he could feel his life ebbing away.

Suddenly he became aware of another presence in the cave. A huddled figure lay in a corner, shaking.

"Trixie?" groaned Pete.

Trixie lifted her head and whimpered. "What do you want?" she squeaked through chattering teeth.

"Look," Pete groaned. "I―"

A splashing sound came from behind them and another dog came up out of the water. "Thought I'd find you two in here," said a familiar baritone voice.

"Rex?" asked Pete.

"How did you find us?" asked Trixie.

"I have my ways," he replied, shaking the water from his fur. "Is anyone hurt?"

"I'm…very cold," Trixie couldn't help whining. "And I can't move my paw. It hurts every time I try."

Thanks to me, Pete thought, wracked with guilt.

"What about you, Pete?" asked Rex.

Pete was surprised to hear that the older dog sounded genuinely concerned. "Just a few scratches," he boasted, trying to rise to his feet before collapsing from sheer exhaustion.

"Sit tight," Rex ordered. "Miss Trixie, can you walk?"

Trixie reluctantly rose to her feet, her right forepaw held up. "Not too bad," she replied through her teeth.

"All right. Pete, do you think you can swim?"

Pete had to face reality this time and shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Alright," Rex said. "You're in worse condition, so I'll get you out of here and then come back for you, Miss."

"But what about the rapids?" Trixie protested. "You'll never get out alive."

Rex shook a few more stubborn drops from his fur. "As I said, I have my ways. Now, come on, Pete."

Surprised that he had the strength to do it, Pete staggered to his feet. "You think I can make it?" he groaned.

Rex moved to his side and steadied him, unintentionally pressing against one of the raw spots. "All things considered, I don't see how you have a choice. Just hang onto my collar and swim with me as best you can. Clear?" Pete nodded and took Rex's collar in his teeth. Rex led him into the water. "I'll be back, Trix. Until I return, stay as warm as possible."

Trixie stared after them anxiously. "Be careful," she called.

As the water's surface brushed against their chins, Rex stopped. "What's the holdup?" chattered Pete.

Rex seemed hesitant to speak. "I just want to say, Pete, you did the right thing this time. You were very brave, and from what I heard of your father, he'd be proud." Pete was so surprised that he almost lost his grip on Rex's collar, but the old hound seemed to have no interest in further conversation. "Brace yourself!"

And the next thing Pete heard was water in his ears.

Rex maneuvered under the water with surprising skill, paddling through the calm currents at the edge and diving below some of the rougher swells. Pete hung on for dear life, trying not to pass out as blood leaked out to be replaced by icy water seeping in. As some of the frigid liquid flowed through his teeth and into his mouth, he could feel his tongue taking on the nature of a small glacier. Gotta…hang…on, he thought desperately.

At last, they reached a place downstream where the river had frozen over. "Wait!" Pete called past his frozen tongue and through the mouthful of collar. "Not the ice! Over on the snow or our paws will stick!"

It was muffled and slurred but apparently intelligible enough to be understood, because Rex nodded and guided them over to a part of the ice that was covered with soft, dry snow. With a desperate heave, he clambered out and pulled Pete after him. "How did you know our paws would stick to ice?" he asked.

Pete panted. "Something my dad taught me," he lisped past his frozen tongue.

"Dad! Pete!" came a loud bark. Rex turned his head to see Toby running toward them.

"It's all right, Toby. He's a bit beaten, but he's alive," Rex called. "I'm going back for Trixie now. Stay here and keep Pete warm!"

Toby reached them and hunkered down next to Pete. "You just watch yourself in there," he warned. "If I tell Mom you drowned, she'll send me to join you." Rex nodded, ran back up the bank to a spot near where it had crumbled, and dove back in.

"Y-you know," Pete chattered as Toby did his best to shield him from the wind, "your dad is some dog. You're lucky to have him."

Toby nodded. "Don't I know it."