"Got me one, " Moses announced for all to hear. "Yes sir, this baby ain't long for the water. "

"How do you always do that?" Andy played his role. "Every time I come out here with you, you catch a bucket of fish and I go home with nothing. "

It was then that Trader noticed the familiar white plastic bucket, and his adrenalin kicked in and an internal alarm went off.

"That your bucket?" Trader asked as he tried different lock combinations.

"Sure is, " Moses replied.

"Then how is it the bucket has Parks Seafood on it, which is a Tangier Island fish shop?" Trader was getting suspicious and felt for his flare gun. "That bucket came from the governor's mansion, so don't be telling me it belongs to you. "

"Wouldn't know. Never been to the gov'ner's mansion, but I'm going tomorrow 'cause the gov'ner taking me to the NASCAR race. Someone left that bucket out here, " Moses said, reeling in a fish. "Didn't seem like nobody wanted it. And I don't mind returning it to the mansion when I get there. "

"Well, if it's yours now, " Trader said, walking over to get a closer look, "then why is it you have no water in it? Seems to me, if you intended to use it for the fish you catch, you would have bothered to fill it with water. And I know for a fact you're not going to the race with the governor!"

The fish broke the surface of the river as it fought for its life, and Andy thought it looked familiar.

"A trout?" he asked Moses as Trader frantically tried to lift the suitcase again and groaned in exertion.

"Sure is, " Moses said. "A nice one, too. "

Becoming more desperate and a little wary of the two ragged fishermen, Trader tried to drag the suitcase and began cursing. Moses held up the flapping trout, and Andy noticed an old hook wound in its lower lip. The trout looked at Trader and played dead.

"Let it go, " Andy said to Moses. "We don't need a fish or crabs or anything else to ID this big fat piece of lying shit. "

He pulled off his fake beard and ponytail wig and whipped out his pistol.

"Hands up in the air, Trader, " Andy fiercely ordered as Moses worked the hook out of the trout's mouth and tossed him back into the river.

"Free at last, " Moses said to the trout as it swam away.

"You're under arrest!" Andy shouted.

Regina was giving orders and shouting as well, and not having a good result. Trip the minihorse had been delivered to the mansion an hour earlier, and Regina had paid little attention to the trainer's instructions and had not bothered to watch the training videotape. How hard could it be to tell a tiny horse to turn right, left, sit, come, or lie down? But she had been barking commands at the guide animal nonstop and Trip just stood in the middle of the ballroom and stared at her.

"Move, " Regina said, snapping her fingers and stamping her foot.

Trip blinked and didn't budge.

"Come here right this minute, " Regina tried again in a harsh tone as the First Lady hurried down the winding staircase, clutching a box of trivets that she intended to stash in the butler's pantry.

"You stupid pony!" Regina yelled.

"Regina!" Mrs. Crimm paused, panting hard from exertion. "You know not to talk to the help that way!"

"Oh, she isn't talking to me, ma'am, " Pony said as he appeared in his starchy white coat. "Can I assist you with that box?"

"What's all the commotion about?" the governor inquired as he stepped out of a parlor, peering through his magnifying glass, obviously befuddled. "Where am I? I walked into my office and I couldn't find my desk. Did someone move my desk? What are you carrying, Maude?"

"Just some things that need to be tossed, " she quickly made up a story. "I was cleaning out one of my closets and came across that revolving shoe tree I bought on an information commercial. I don't suppose you know which one I mean, but it's never served a useful purpose, and most of the shoes on it are out of style anyway. "

"Your desk is in the same spot, " Pony told the governor. "May I help you upstairs, sir?"

"What's this?" The governor spied the minihorse and was instantly smitten. "What a pretty little fellow you are! And such a handsome harness with a nice little leather handle, and my goodness, he even has shoes!"

"He has to have shoes or he'll slide all over the hardwood floor, " Regina impatiently explained as the First Lady dashed downstairs to hide the trivets. "But he's worthless. He won't do a thing I say, so I certainly can't see what good he's going to do, Papa. Come here!" Regina clapped her hands at the indifferent tiny horse. "You idiot, get here right this minute or I'm sending you back and you can just go live with some other blind person who probably lives in a dump and has no household staff or limousines or cooks or important people visiting!"

"Perhaps you're not saying the right words to him, " the governor considered as he moved closer to Trip and patted his thick red mane. "Sit, " he said.

Trip did nothing.

"Fetch. " The governor tossed an imaginary stick across the Oriental rug. "Well, leave it then. "

Trip did.

"Sir, " Pony said. "What would you like for your midafternoon snack?"

"I believe two eggs and a piece of toast would be nice, " the governor replied as his magnified cloudy eye scanned his new guide horse.

"Over or under?" Pony politely asked.

"Under, " the governor decided, and Trip suddenly crawled under an inlaid mahogany Federal card table.

"Now isn't that strange, " the governor commented as he got down on his knees and tried to coax Trip back out. "I think there's something wrong with this, horse. Or maybe you've confused the poor thing and intimidated him with your rude voice, " he said to Regina.

"Right, " she said sarcastically, and Trip backed out from under the table, turned right, and started walking across the ballroom in his Velcro-fastened tennis shoes. "Everything's always my fault. I'm so sick and tired of being blamed for whatever goes wrong. I'm an excellent supervisor, and it's the retarded horse who's screwing up, not me…!"

"Wait, " the governor snapped at his daughter, because he had heard quite enough.

Trip stopped.

"Sir?" Pony was back. "Would you like hollandaise sauce, butter, salt, pepper, or anything else on your eggs?"

Crimm paused to check on his submarine, which had been blissfully still in the water since he had stopped eating Major Trader's sweets. Well, maybe he didn't need such a bland diet anymore. Dear Lord, wouldn't that be a blessing?

"I might even try ham again, " he thought out loud.

"I can put ham on the eggs, as well, " Pony suggested as Trip continued to walk across the ballroom, his driverless harness flopping.

"Well, why not?" the governor happily said. "Load up!"

Trip stopped in his tracks and then headed toward the elevator.

"Look at that, " Pony marveled. "That horse is headed right toward the… where's he going? He's going to the… "

"Lift!" the governor interrupted with excitement, finishing Pony's sentence and using the English word for elevator, because he preferred all things English and always had.

Trip stopped and lifted a hoof.

"I believe there's a pattern developing, " the governor announced as he went to Trip and patted his head. "You can put your foot down, little fellow. "

Trip didn't move.

"Seems like to me he only listens to one or two words, " Pony observed. "Load up, " he said to Trip.

The horse lowered his hoof and headed to the elevator again. Intrigued and challenged, Pony followed and pushed the down button. The doors opened and Trip boarded.

"We'll just ride along with him and see what he does, " the governor said, enjoying himself more than he had in quite a long time.

He and Pony rode the elevator with Trip, and when the doors opened on the kitchen level of the mansion, the minihorse stood still, waiting.