om a shopping trip to Tampa, which surprised me more. It
was when he ripped the paper off his package, though, that I thought
he'd lost his mind.

"Books for Joey," Doc said. "Ethel and I agreed this morning that the
boy needs another interest to occupy his time now, and since he can't
go to school I'm going to teach him here."

He went on to explain that Ethel hadn't had the heart the night
before, desperate as she was, to tell the kid the whole truth. She'd
told him instead, quoting an imaginary customer at the Sea Shell
Diner, that a tourist car with Michigan license plates had picked
Charlie up on the highway and taken him away. It was a good enough
story. Joey still didn't know that Charlie was dead, but his waiting
was over because no dog could be expected to find his way home from
Michigan.

"We've got to give the boy another interest," Doc said, putting away
the books and puncturing another beer can. "Joey has a remarkable
talent for concentration--most handicapped children have--that could
be the end of him if it isn't diverted into safe channels."

I thought the kid had cracked up already and said so.

"Moving _stars_?" Doc said when I told him. "Good Lord, Roy--"

* * * * *

Ethel Pond knocked just then, interrupting him. She came in and had a
beer with us and talked to Doc about his plan for educating Joey at
home. But she couldn't tell us anything more about the kid's new
fixation than we already knew. When she asked him why he stared up at
the sky like that he'd say only that he wants something to remember
Charlie by.

It was about nine o'clock, when Ethel went home to cook supper. Doc
and I knocked off our cribbage game and went outside with our folding
chairs to get some air. It was then that the first star moved.

It moved all of a sudden, the way any shooting star does, and shot
across the sky in a curving, blue-white streak of fire. I didn't pay
much attention, but Doc nearly choked on his beer.

"Roy," he said, "that was Sirius! _It moved!_"

I didn't see anything serious about it and said so. You can see a
dozen or so stars zip across the sky on any clear night if you're in
the mood to look up.

"Not serious, you fool," Doc said. "The _star_ Sirius--the Dog Star,
it's called--it moved a good sixty degrees, _then stopped dead_!"

I sat up and took notice then, partly because the star really had
stopped instead of burning out the way a falling star seems