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The Case of the Black-Hooded Hangmans

Page 7

by John R. Erickson


  “Good luck, Hank.”

  I marched forward. The snow crunched beneath my feet. I could hear the bull’s breath roaring in his chest, Drover’s teeth chattering, and little Alfred whispering, “Go get ’im, Hankie, beat the snot out of ’im!”

  And I even heard the “Famous Heroes Battle Marching Song.”

  We are Famous Heroes, y’all.

  Sally May and I stand tall.

  TNT and dynamite,

  Look out, bull, here comes a fight!

  I stiffened my tail, raised all hackles, and went into Stealthy Crouch Mode. The bull answered by shaking his horns, and then he bellered again. It was so loud, I could almost feel his voice on my face.

  I kept moving. Closer and closer. Fifteen yards. Ten yards. Five. I stopped, took a deep breath, and threw a glance back over my shoulder. My friends were huddled in the snow, waiting for me to engage the enemy.

  I turned back to the bull, and my goodness, he was so BIG and UGLY! My knees were trembling and I felt my courage slipping away. I switched over to Friendly Wags and tried to smile.

  “Hi there, uh, Mister Bull. Nice weather, huh? I mean, if you like snow. Ha, ha. Some like snow and some don’t, I suppose, and how do you feel about . . . well, peace treaties and so forth? It seems to me that . . .”

  He was on me before I knew it, just as though he had been shot out of a cannon. Zoom, wham! He loaded me up on his horns, gave his head a toss, and threw me high in the air.

  “Well, that answered most of my questions and all at once things became pretty simple. When I hit the ground, he was there waiting for me, and he started working me over with those horns.

  Bam! Bam! Oof! Ahh! Ooooooo!

  Okay, if that’s the way he wanted it, by George I had a couple of tricks saved back. When he made his next pass at me, I put the old Australian Fang Lock on his nose, and he didn’t like that even a little bit.

  He bucked. He snorted. He pawed the ground. He bellered and bawled in rage. He tossed his head, and since I was more or less attached to his nose, I went along for the ride. Boy, what a ride! Up and down, around and around.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little white comet streaking off to the north—Drover, no doubt. Then Sally May leaped to her feet, snatched up Little Alfred in her arms, and made a run for the fence.

  The G-forces were pressing against my body. My jaws were getting tired. I couldn’t hold on much longer. I waited. Watched. Held my breath. Hurry, hurry!

  They made it over the fence! They were safe!

  And at that point I decided it was time to punch in the Eject and Bail Out procedure. It was pretty simple. I slacked off on the jaw pressure and suddenly I was being air-mailed toward the fence. At that point, all I had to do was Drop Landing Gear and . . .

  My landing gear happened to be pointed in the wrong direction, since I was flying upside-down, and the landing turned out to be a little rough.

  SPLAT! But the snow softened the blow and I was able to leap to my feet and scramble under the fence, one step ahead of the Jersey Express.

  We were both panting for air. We glared at each other across the fence.

  “You’re just lucky there’s a fence between us, pal, or I might . . .” He bellered and I . . . well, went to Escape Speed and streaked back to the house.

  It was all over—except for the Post-War Cele­brations. A huge crowd was waiting for me when I glided into Headquarters: Drover, Alfred, Eddy the Rac, Sally May, Pete the Barncat, even J. T. Cluck, the head rooster. Oh yes, and Miss Viola had come out with Baby Molly.

  Huge crowd. Brass band. Adoring masses. Smiles, flowers, cheers, blown kisses from the womenfolk. That’s what greeted me when I marched up to the yard gate.

  Sally May . . . you won’t believe this, I didn’t either . . . Sally May gave me a huge embrace. Heck, she even pressed her cheek against my left ear! With her other arm, she gathered in Little Alfred and hugged him too and . . .

  Crunch!

  She stared at the pocket of his coat from whence the, uh, crunching sound had come. Oops. She plunged her hand into the pocket and . . . uh, came out with a handful of . . . eggshells, you might say.

  Alfred and I exchanged worried looks. Thoughts of the firing squad flashed across my mind. I began rehearsing my story: “Well, you see, Sally May, there was this . . .”

  But you know what? She smiled. Nay, she laughed! And she turned to me and said, “You scamps! I don’t even want to know what happened. Just don’t do it again.”

  Yes ma’am! No ma’am. Not me, never again! I was a new dog, a reformed dog. I had taken the Pledge!

  And would you believe that, to this very day, I have notched up a PERFECT RECORD and haven’t done ONE NAUGHTY THING? Can you believe that?

  Neither can I. But I’m working on it.

  Honest.

  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 Drover

  58 The Case of the Mysterious Voice

  59 T
he Case of the Perfect Dog

  60 The Big Question

  61 The Case of the Prowling Bear

  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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