Martha plops down, panting, and her toy rolls out of her mouth and onto the sand. Break time.

"Who, Tony?" I ask, keeping a careful eye on the two of them. I doubt she'd be able to steal a dog the size of Martha out from under my nose in plain daylight, but I can't be too careful. "He lived, believe it or not. After you robbed him. Like a thief. Which you are."