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much pie on our shirts as he did, he’d get us new shirts, too.”
    “Joshua McCain!” Mrs. O’Sullivan and Hilda both said in unison.
    Laney loved the impish sparkle in her brother’s eyes. He shrugged and said in a blithe voice, “Hey, we men have to stick together.”
    “As much pie as you’re all wearing,” Laney said as she started to giggle, “you’ll definitely stick to something!”
    “Release the pig!” someone shouted.
    Laney turned her attention back to Dale. All of the other children raced after the squealing pig. Many of them fell into a tangled knot of arms and legs, but the pig popped out and ran willynilly around the enclosure.
    “What is Dale doing?” Laney watched as he sat cross-legged on the ground.
    Above all of the pandemonium, she heard him. “Soooo-eeee! Sooo-eee! Pig. Pig. Pig.”
    The little pig dodged several children and headed for Dale. One little boy dove and grabbed hold of a hind leg, but the pig slid out of his grasp. He shot off into the direction he’d come, squealing loudly.
    “Dale’s one smart little guy,” Josh said.
    “Aye, that he is,” his mother agreed.
    A couple more children managed to grab hold, but the pig slithered away. Dale remained in the same spot. “Sooo-eee!”
    Laney stood on tiptoe and held her breath as the pig veered toward Dale. Two boys descended on it and each grabbed a leg.
    “Turn loose!” the director shouted.
    “Why?” Sean craned his neck to see the boys grudgingly release their holds.
    “Only one person can touch the animal at a time,” Mrs. O’Sullivan explained. “If two grab him, they both have to let go.”
    Laney tossed caution and propriety to the wind. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “You’re doing fine, Dale!”
    He cast a happy smile in their direction, then beamed as the pig came toward him. “Sooo-eee!” The pig trampled across one of Dale’s legs, and Dale collapsed around him.
    “Five, four, three,” the director counted.
    “Two, one !” everyone joined in.
    “He won!” Colin wheeled around and threw his arms around his mother. “Ma, he won!”
    Someone fashioned an odd-looking halter that went around the pig, wiped much of the grease off, then handed the end of the rope to Dale. Dale trotted out of the enclosure. “Lookee, Ma!”
    “Now aren’t you a sight! Why don’t we go put him in the pen with Hortense?”
    Colin jogged ahead. “Hey! There’s something on Hortense’s pen!”
    Sean joined him, then hollered back, “Hortense got an honorable mention!”
    Dale led his pig into the pen. “Hortense, I caught you a friend!”
    A man sauntered over. He looked at the pigs, then nodded. “Good-looking shoat you have there.”
    “Thank you.” Dale beamed.
    “Couple of good hams and a bunch of pork chops from her.” The man didn’t notice how Dale’s smile twisted into horror. “The going rate is—” “I’m sorry.” Laney stepped forward. “I’ve already decided to buy this shoat. As you said, she’s very good-looking. The judges obviously agree, as well. That being the case, I thought she’d be an excellent investment.”
    Mrs. O’Sullivan looked completely flummoxed.
    “Dale’s latest acquisition is a male.” Laney tried to make her plan sound reasonable. “This could be the start of a business venture for him.”
    Hilda rubbed her jaw. “Of course, you’d have to board Hortense over at the O’Sullivan farm, Laney.”
    “Yes. Yes, I would. But I can go visit her.”
    “Now, wait a minute,” the butcher growled. “The man in charge of this place told me this shoat was for sale. There weren’t all that many hogs here this year.”
    “Which is why this would be a sound business venture.”
    Laney smiled at him. “Why, next year, we’ll probably have several pigs for you!”
    The man walked off, muttering under his breath.
    “I getta keep Hortense?”
    “You’re going to board her—much like Galen boards the horses for the Pony Express.” Laney did