“Y-y-yeah, b-but I c-could t-t-t-try.”
“And anybody that was dumb enough to spend time in a septic tank . . .”
“Sing, buzzard, or go stand in the rain!”
“All right, I’ll sing, but I ain’t gonna like it and it ain’t gonna be pretty! ‘I love . . . I love . . . I love . . .’ What key’s it in, I cain’t find the note!”
“It won’t matter, Wallace, just grab a note and run with it.”
“All right, you asked for it!”
Wallace:
I love being mad,
Yelling, scolding, talking bad,
I love being called a cad,
It makes my life worthwhile.
After we’d each done our verses, we put them all together and sang them in harmony. Boy, did we cut loose and sing! It must have been pretty good, because when we were done the rain had stopped and the sun had broken through the clouds.
I turned to Wallace. “Now, wasn’t that fun? Go ahead and admit it, we won’t tell anybody.”
“No, it wasn’t no fun at all. I hate music, I hate singing, I hate love, and I hate fun.”
“Wallace, you’re nothing but a cad.”
His face burst into a smile. “Now you’re talkin’, dog, I love that!”
The old fool, I pushed him off the ledge and he flew away. Then I turned to Junior. “Well, the rain’s quit and I’ve got to get this boy back to his ma. See you again sometime. It was fun.”
“Y-y-yeah, it s-s-sure w-w-was. I l-love to s-s-sing.”
Little Alfred hadn’t said a word. He was hanging back kind of bashful-like and had a finger in his mouth. “Good-bye, Junyo. I wike buzzoods.”
“B-b-bye, L-little A-alfred.”
And with that, Junior jumped off the ledge and flapped his big wings and flew away.
I took a deep breath and turned to Alfred.
“Well, son, you’ve had a rare opportunity to meet some of my friends. One of these days, when you’re all growed up, you’ll look back at this day and wonder if it really happened. And it did.”
He nodded and smiled, and the sparkle in his eyes was prettier than any star I’d ever seen.
“Now let’s see if we can sneak you back home without getting both of us in a world of trouble.”
And with that, we left our adventures behind us and headed for the house.
Chapter Twelve: A Hero Again, What More Can I Say?
You might be wondering how I found my way out of the Dark Unchanted Forest, after I’d spent so much of the afternoon lost in it.
Simple, and you might want to remember this. I just followed Northup Creek in a northerly direction until it joined Wolf Creek, because I knew that it would, and once we made it to Wolf Creek we were out of the woods, so to speak, and I knew the way home from there.
Pretty slick, huh? You bet it was.
We waded across Wolf Creek, made our way through the willows in the creek bed, climbed up the sandy bank, and started walking the last quarter-mile to the house.
It was a triumphant procession and I could almost hear the marching music in the background. I was out front in the lead, which was only right since I had . . . well, we needn’t dwell on the obvious . . . but I was out there in front of the procession, while Little Alfred brought up the rear.
I told the boy to pick up his feet and stay in step. I knew we’d draw a crowd, see, and that every eye would be on the returning heroes, and I wanted our little outfit to look snappy and make a deep and lasting impression on the multitude.
Very few details escape my attention, and I noticed right away that Drover, my second in command, didn’t sound the alarm or come rushing out to bark at us as we approached the house.
The reason he didn’t was that he was playing Chase and Romp with Pete the Barncat, which sort of burned me up and introduced the only sour note into what was otherwise a near-perfect ending to an exciting day.
It’s terrible to be so involved in your work, so devoted to your job that you can’t even enjoy a parade without finding flaws and noticing that it ain’t perfect. But that’s part of the price we pay for being in the security business.
Drover didn’t pick us up until we were about a hundred feet south of the gas tanks, and then it was the cat who saw us first.
“My goodness, look what’s coming our way! It’s Hankie the Wonder Dog and the missing child.”
“Oh my gosh, Hank’s gonna be . . . I forgot all about . . . I never should have let you . . .”
He came ripping down the hill, giving off his usual “yip-yip-yip,” which wouldn’t scare a flea, but at least he was making a showing.
“Oh gosh, you’re back, Hank, I’m so glad! And I guess you found Little Alfred.”
“Looks that way, don’t it?”
“Did you run into that bobcat?”
“It was a full-grown tiger, must have weighed five to six hundred pounds.”
“A tiger?”
“That’s correct. Yes, I found the full-grown tiger. Yes, he was stalking Little Alfred. Yes, I gave him a thrashing he won’t soon forget. And yes, you missed all the adventure.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t miss it by much. If this old leg . . .”
“Forget the leg, Drover.”
“What leg?”
“Your so-called bad leg.”
“Oh, that one. Heck, I’d just about forgotten about it.”
“Good. Let’s leave it at that. Where is everyone?”
“Well, let’s see.” He sat down and scratched on his ear. “I’m here and Pete’s over there in the yard. J. T. Cluck’s up by the machine shed and . . .”
“Loper and Sally May, you weed!”
“Oh. Gee, maybe they’re out looking for Little Alfred, you reckon?”
“That sounds plausible. They’re out looking for the lost child and you’re here at the house, playing footsie with the cat.”
“It was Chase and Romp, and Pete made me play. He said . . .”
“Never mind what he said. Your conduct was disgraceful and I’ll have to put this in my report.”
“Oh drat.”
“And now, if you’ll stand back I will sound the alarm and alert Little Alfred’s parents that he is safe.”
I switched my Barking Alert Mode over to manual and went through the All’s Clear, All’s Well procedure. Within a matter of minutes, Loper rode his horse out of the creek bottom and Sally May popped out of the willows.
She was carrying Little Molly, the poor child with the lizard face, in a blanket, and she approached us in a rapid walk. Sally May did, not Molly. She was a baby. Sally May wasn’t a baby, Molly was, and she approached us . . . oh forget it.
I had seen that walk before and it made me a little nervous to see it again.
See, when Sally May gets into that foxtrot, she’s usually mad and armed with rocks. I considered racing away from the scene but decided to stand my ground and risk a bombardment.
As she approached, I could see that her hair was wet and stringy, and that anger had left its tracks upon her brow, so to speak. Both were bad signs.
“Alfred, where on earth have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you, we thought you were lost. Oh Alfred, why do you do things like this to your parents?”
Alfred hung his head. I did the same, and also thumped my tail on the ground. Alfred didn’t thump his tail because . . . well, of course he didn’t, because he didn’t have one.
“I’m sowwy, Mom. I wan away fwom home, but I got wost in the woods and I didn’t wike it and I’m never going to wun away again.”
After Sally May’s glare had scorched the boy, she turned it on me. “Did YOU lead my boy into the pasture?”
HUH? Me? Now wait a minute!
“Hank, you scoundrel, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!” Her eyes
went back to Alfred. “Or you.” Back to me. “You’re both incorrigible!” Back to Alfred. “Honey, why did you want to run away from home?”
Alfred was about to cry again. “Well, you bwought home that baby and you didn’t want me anymore!”
“Oh Alfred, how could you even think such a thing?” She knelt down and gathered him up in her arms. “Mommy loves you very, very much, but for a while she’s going to be busy with your new sister. I’ll tell you what. If you’ll help me take care of Molly, we can be together and we’ll both feel better about it. How does that sound?”
She hugged him hard and ran her fingers through his wet hair. Then her glare hit me again. “And don’t you ever, EVER go off in the pasture with that dog again!”
The boy pulled away from her arms. “But Mom, I went awone and Hank saved me!”
“Ummmm.” I could tell she didn’t believe him.
“He bwought two wolfs that came and saved me fwom a big huge tigoo!”
“Two wolves? A tiger!”
I, uh, took this opportunity to, uh, study the clouds. The, uh, animals in question were coyotes rather than wolves, and the, uh, villain in the case had been . . . well, maybe bobcat would have been more accurate, but he was definitely as big as any tiger I’d ever run into. Don’t you see.
Alfred went on with his story. “And the wolfs beat up the tigoo and then Hank came and wicked my face and I met a weal buzzood!”
Sally May flinched on that word. “A buzzard!”
“And I talked to him and he talked to me!”
Loper had ridden up by this time and had stepped out of the saddle. Sally May gave him a long questioning look. “Do you hear what your son is saying?”
“Yup. Two wolves ran off a tiger and he met a buzzard, and Hank did something or other. Sounds like a windy tale to me.”
Alfred’s little mouth drew up into a pout. “It’s not a windy tale, it’s twue! Hank is my fwiend and I want him to sweep in my bed wiff me tonight.”
There was a long silence. Loper shifted his weight from one leg to the other. His horse swished his tail at a fly. Sally May rocked Molly back and forth in her arms and studied Loper’s face. After a bit, he gave his head the slightest of nods.
Sally May turned back to Alfred. “All right, just this once we’ll let Hank sleep in your room, but only if you promise never to run away again.”
Little Alfred gave a cheer and went flying around in circles. I was about to join him when Sally May caught me by a front leg and pulled me back. She spoke to me in a low, severe tone of voice.
“Now listen to me, you oaf, I don’t know what really went on this afternoon, but I know that you were involved in it up to your ears.” I whapped my tail. “Against my better judgment, I’m going to let you sleep with my child because, for reasons that I don’t understand, he seems fond of you.”
I whapped my tail. She leveled a finger at my nose. “But if you throw up on my clean floor or wet on my nice furniture or dig holes in my sheets, Hank, I swear I’ll . . .” She closed her eyes and shook her head and smiled and stood up. “They’re impossible, both of them. One’s just as bad as the other.”
“Shall I do the honors?” Loper asked.
“Please, and thank you.”
“Come on, Hank, let’s put this horse up and then we’ll get to the fun part.”
I turned to Drover. “You see what comes of being a chickenhearted little mutt? I’m going to be decorated for heroism in the line of duty, while you stay outside with your friend the cat. No risk, no reward, Drover, and with that I bid you good night.”
“Good night, Hank, I’ll miss you.”
“You bet you will.”
I marched down to the corral beside my master and stood guard at the saddle shed while he put up his rigging. My head was filled with visions of what was to come: a banquet in my honor; a toast to the Head of Ranch Security; speeches, applause, adoring gazes; a nice juicy steak bone . . .
What a lousy trick!
The so-called “honors” turned out to be a trip to the bathtub. I was throwed into a tub of scalding hot water, scrubbed with stinking soap and a hard-bristle brush, de-ticked, de-flead, de-dirted, de-scented, almost de-skinned, and derned near drownded.
When I crawled out of that dipping vat, fellers, I could hardly stand myself.
But cleanliness hath a few rewards. I was allowed to camp out with Little Alfred, even slept in the bed with him, which was the first time that miracle had ever happened. And I’m proud to report that I maintained control of all my various bodily processes and fluids, so to speak, and didn’t make a single mess. Not one!
I know you think I’m lying, but . . . oh, there was one small mishap in the middle of the night, but it occurred under the bed and Sally May didn’t find it until weeks later. By that time I was well out of her range.
Around here, the endings don’t come any happier than that.
Case closed.
Further Reading
Have you read all of Hank’s adventures?
1 The Original Adventures of Hank the Cowdog
2 The Further Adventures of Hank the Cowdog
3 It’s a Dog’s Life
4 Murder in the Middle Pasture
5 Faded Love
6 Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
7 The Curse of the Incredible Priceless Corncob
8 The Case of the One-Eyed Killer Stud Horse
9 The Case of the Halloween Ghost
10 Every Dog Has His Day
11 Lost in the Dark Unchanted Forest
12 The Case of the Fiddle-Playing Fox
13 The Wounded Buzzard on Christmas Eve
14 Hank the Cowdog and Monkey Business
15 The Case of the Missing Cat
16 Lost in the Blinded Blizzard
17 The Case of the Car-Barkaholic Dog
18 The Case of the Hooking Bull
19 The Case of the Midnight Rustler
20 The Phantom in the Mirror
21 The Case of the Vampire Cat
22 The Case of the Double Bumblebee Sting
23 Moonlight Madness
24 The Case of the Black-Hooded Hangmans
25 The Case of the Swirling Killer Tornado
26 The Case of the Kidnapped Collie
27 The Case of the Night-Stalking Bone Monster
28 The Mopwater Files
29 The Case of the Vampire Vacuum Sweeper
30 The Case of the Haystack Kitties
31 The Case of the Vanishing Fishhook
32 The Garbage Monster from Outer Space
33 The Case of the Measled Cowboy
34 Slim’s Good-bye
35 The Case of the Saddle House Robbery
36 The Case of the Raging Rottweiler
37 The Case of the Deadly Ha-Ha Game
38 The Fling
39 The Secret Laundry Monster Files
40 The Case of the Missing Bird Dog
41 The Case of the Shipwrecked Tree
42 The Case of the Burrowing Robot
43 The Case of the Twisted Kitty
44 The Dungeon of Doom
45 The Case of the Falling Sky
46 The Case of the Tricky Trap
47 The Case of the Tender Cheeping Chickies
48 The Case of the Monkey Burglar
49 The Case of the Booby-Trapped Pickup
50 The Case of the Most Ancient Bone
51 The Case of the Blazing Sky
52 The Quest for the Great White Quail
53 Drover’s Secret Life
54 The Case of the Dinosaur Birds
55 The Case of the Secret Weapon
56 The Case of the Coyote Invasion
57 The Disappearance of Drove
r
58 The Case of the Mysterious Voice
About the Author and Illustrator
John R. Erickson, a former cowboy, has written numerous books for both children and adults and is best known for his acclaimed Hank the Cowdog series. He lives and works on his ranch in Perryton, Texas, with his family.
Gerald L. Holmes has illustrated numerous cartoons and textbooks in addition to the Hank the Cowdog series. He lives in Perryton, Texas.
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