The Curse of the Incredible Priceless Corncob by John R. Erickson

Author:John R. Erickson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: cowdog, Hank the Cowdog, John R. Erickson, John Erickson, ranching, Texas, dog, adventure, mystery, Hank, Drover, Pete, Sally May
Publisher: Maverick Books, Inc.
Published: 2015-05-08T22:30:29+00:00

“All right, Hank, start barking again, see if you can get her to come after you.”

Start barking . . . see if I could . . . HUH?

Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle . . . hey, those guys were planning to use me for BAIT! Which was too bad because I had no intention of, but on the other hand, when they’ve got you on a catch rope, it’s hard to argue . . .

I barked a protest. I mean, this was by George outrageous, but barking might not have been a smart thing to do, don’t you see, because it sort of called attention to my presence there in the trailer.

And here she came. I could see the blood vanes, blood vaynes, blood vaens, spelling has never been one of my better areas, blood veins standing out on her eyeballs. I could hear her snorting like a locomotive. I could see the sharp tips of her horns gleaming in the sunlight.

Fellers, she flew into that trailer like a jungle cat and all at once it seemed awful crowded. There for a minute, I thought the old curtain was about to fall on my life’s performance, so to speak, and that I was fixing to go to my internal reward.

In a flash, Loper slammed the back gate shut, which was not what I considered good news at that point, since it locked me and that wild horned woman in a small space that was getting smaller by the minute.

And at the same moment, just as I was about to be shredded and punctured, Slim jerked the rope and pulled me out of the pit of death.

“Good job, Hankie, nice work.” He patted me on the head.

Many words and thoughts marched across the vast expanse of my mind at that moment, none of which I can repeat. The point is, I had survived the ordeal but it had left a bitter taste in my mouth. A bitter taste is better than no taste at all, but it’s still a long way from sweet.

We loaded up and headed for the house.

Oh, one last thing. That Mysterious Brown Rain? Tobacco juice.

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