Her dog, Whistler, streaked around the back of a bunch of sheep and began herding them down the hill.

"He's fast," James Hunter muttered. He watched with narrow eyes.

"Fast isn't everything," Mandy Hope countered. "Anyway, Tess is fast, too."

They sat on the stone wall at Syke Farm, judging every detail of the grey sheepdog's performance. Dora's brother, Ken Hudson, stood nearby with his own dog, Tess.

Dora whistled. "Away to me!" she shouted again.

Whistler herded a sheep to the right, steering them clear of a steep drop.

"Lie down!" Dora cried.

The dog stopped and crouched. The sheep jostled clumsily.

"He does exactly as he's told," James noted. He knew Whistler was an experienced working dog, well trained and reliable.

"So does Tess." Mandy jumped down from the wall to crouch beside her Favourite.

James frowned. "But Whistler's got more experience," he pointed out. "He's won two championship ribbons already!"

"So?"

Tess wagged her bushy tail as Mandy put an arm around her. She gazed at Mandy with trusting dark-brown eyes, nudging her hand with her soft black nose.

"You're a brilliant sheepdog, every bit as good as Whistler. And I'm sure you can beat him," she whispered.

Tess and Whistler were rivals. Dora had trained Whistler to follow her every command. Her brother, Ken, who lived with Dora at Skye Farm, had adopted Tess after Mandy and James had rescued her as a young dog. She'd grown sleek and fit, with her black ears and white muzzle, her white chest and black back, her lovely white-tipped tail.

"Come by!" Dora cried.

Whistler surged forward once more, circling the sheep to keep them in a tight bunch. He brought them close to where Dora stood.

"That'll do!" She gave one last command.

The dog came and sat at her side, tongue lolling, sides heaving, while the sheep relaxed and began to nibble the short grass.

Dora turned to her audience, her head held high. "What did you think of that?"

"Great!" James smiled and nodded.

"He's very good," Mandy said more guardedly, one arm still around Tess's neck.

"Not bad," Ken sniffed. No way would he let his sister see that he was impressed. Instead, he pulled his flat cap down over his wrinkled forehead and got ready to put Tess through her paces.

Dora tutted. "Admit it, your dog's no match for mine."

"I'll admit to no such thing," Ken grunted back. He whistled Tess to him.

Tess left Mandy and bounded to Ken's side, eager to begin work. She sat obediently to wait for the next command.

"Two red ribbons!" Dora reminded them as she set off with Whistler across the farmyard toward the barn. "And a third to join them on my mantelpiece, come this Sunday!"

Mandy narrowed her eyes and pretended not to hear. She watched Tess begin to herd sheep back up the hillside. Don't count your chickens! she thought silently. Tess was young, strong and clever. Very clever in fact. Ken had only to whistle a command for her to guide the sheep wherever he wanted them: behind a clump of trees, between boulders, or up into the heather.

"That'll do!" he called, and brought Tess sprinting down the hill back toward the farm. The small, bow-legged farmer stooped to pat his dog.

Mandy and James ran to join them. "That was excellent!" Mandy gasped. "She didn't put a foot wrong!"

Ken grunted. "She's just about ready," he agreed.

Ready for the Welford Sheepdog Trials this coming Sunday. Keen and fit, Tess had been beautifully trained by the wizened ex-pigman. But was she good enough to beat Whistler and all the other border collies on show at the weekend?

As Mandy knelt to make a fuss of Tess, stroking her and tickling her behind the ears, she heard the farmer express his one doubt about the dog.

"Don't tell Dora I said this," he murmured, glancing over his shoulder toward the farm. "But the trouble with Tess is, she sometimes gets put off the job at hand."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"It's because she's not a farm dog born and bred," Ken explained. "She might lose concentration if I'm not careful, and I reckon I'll have my work cut out for me on Sunday. There'll be a big crowd at the show Ð lots of distractions."

"No problem!" Mandy insisted. "Tess will behave herself, won't you, girl?"

Tess nudged her hand to be stroked again.

"You won't be put off. You'll be perfect!" Mandy pictured the red rosette pinned to Tess's collar at the end of a hard-fought contest. "Tess, the champion!" she sighed, crossing her fingers and staring up the hillside as if she could see the future there. "Tess, the number one sheepdog in all of Welford!"