Since the paper was a weekly, there was no such thing as a mailroom staff, so every Wednesday for a dozen years, Mike had pitched in with the printing... addressing, and delivery of the Record Herald. When Webb had left himself in the rotation, Mike knew there was no way he was going to get out of it.There was one compensation, though; he thoroughly enjoyed it when his turn came to take the van to Camden, where the paper was printed. It was a long drive each way, with a couple of hours sitting. He wandered back and forth over several acres, listlessly calling the animal's name, but there was no response. Nothing seemed to move up there. There was no sign of life.Finally, just as he was getting ready to call it quits and go back to his room, Ben noticed a sandy trail with a clear set of dog prints running down it."Aha, that's gotta be Prince. No other dog around here has paws that big," Ben crowed triumphantly, and then began to follow the tracks. It was easy going for a while, but. More

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