The Case of the Mysterious Voice 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: 2015-05-01T20:01:45+00:00

Chapter Eight: A Victory for Science

Boy, you talk about something that will send a shock all the way out to the end of your tail! That’ll do it, seeing a complete stranger walk out of a house that was supposed to be occupied by Loper and Sally May. In the middle of the night.

Who was that guy and what kind of crinimal mischief was he up to?

For a moment, I was frozen by . . . I might as well go ahead and say it. I was frozen by fear—pure, unambiguous fear, the kind of raw emotion that makes a dog want to drop everything and head for tall timber.

No ordinary dog could have resisted the urge to flee, but somehow I did. How? Training and discipline had a lot to do with it. Also, paralyzing fear tends to make your legs useless for a retreat. Bottom line: my legs were too scared to move, so the rest of me had to remain on the job.

At last I was able to speak in a shaky whisper. “Drover, I don’t want to alarm you, but a stranger just walked out of the house. And there’s more bad news. I don’t think I can run. My legs just quit on me.” I happened to be looking at him and saw a goofy smile form upon his mouth. “Drover, let me repeat: I think I’m disabled, but you’re grinning.”

“Yeah, ’cause he’s not a stranger.”

“I beg your pardon? Come back on that.”

“It’s Loper. Who else would come out of Loper’s house in the middle of the night?”

“Don’t get smart with me, you little squeakbox! I’m telling you, that man is not . . .”

Huh?

Okay, we can relax. Ha ha. It was Loper. I mean, who else would you expect to walk out of Loper’s house in the middle of the night? Ha ha.

But, seriously, sometimes the stress of this job will get you down. After you’ve worked an eighteen-hour shift and they call you back out on another case, your mind starts playing tricks on you. No kidding.

So, yes, it was Loper, the owner of our ranch, coming down the sidewalk toward us, and carrying . . . what was that thing? A plastic pitcher? Yes, he was carrying a plastic pitcher, and anyone could have mistaken him for a total stranger. I mean, he was half-naked in his boxer shorts and his hair looked like a packrat’s nest.

Hey, in the dark of night, we get faulty information and sometimes we make bad calls. It could have happened to any dog.

Well, I felt a huge sense of relief. Since he wasn’t screeching at us, I had every reason to suppose that he had taken notice of our work and had come out to . . . I don’t know, bring us fresh water or maybe some lemonade.

A lot of ranchers will do that for their dogs, bring ’em a pitcher of lemonade when they’ve been putting in a long, hard night. Studies show that

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