Davidson air. The sky was so clear he could gaze across the valley below to the blue and purple mountains in the Stillwater Range. For the first time on his school's eighth-grade overnight field trip to Virginia City, Nevada, he began to relax. Two tiny chipmunks scrambled out of the underbrush and rose on their hind legs to beg. Alan pulled what was left of a bag of potato chips out of his pocket and scattered the crumbs on the ground. “Here you are,” he said. The chipmunks eagerly snatched at the chips, devouring them. Almost hidden by the shadow of an old building, a small dog with mottled black-and-gray hair watched intently. “Hey, boy, are you hungry?” Alan asked. The dog remained still, and his gaze didn't waver. Alan hadn't wanted to come on this weekend field trip. He'd pleaded a sore throat, but his mother hadn't bought it. He'd limped a little—even groaned— before his class boarded the bus, but Mr. Sands, his teacher, had just smiled encouragingly. “There's no need for you to miss the trip.
