The Case of the Saddle House Robbery Page 4

  We paused and glared at each other. At last I broke the icing. “Okay, pal, this isn’t working. It seems that our destinies have been yokeled, and it’s clear by now that we can’t go in opposite directions. I guess we’re going to have to discuss this.”

  “I must return to my work. They’re waiting for me in Madagascar.”

  “Who’s waiting for you?”

  He glanced around. “I can’t tell you.”

  “All right, then where’s Magasaki?”

  “Madagascar. I can’t tell you.”

  “Well, that’s just fine, birdbrain, because I really don’t care and didn’t want to know in the first place. You go your way and I’ll head for the corrals, and we’ll just see who gets there first.”

  We parted company and the pulling match began again. Maybe you think I succeeded in dragging Jake all the way down to the pens. No. Dragging around forty pounds of bird dog bones isn’t as easy as you might think. With our heads pointed at each other, we pulled and struggled, grunted and glared. Before I knew it, we had stum­bled just far enough to the southwest to get ourselves wrapped around a chinaberry tree.

  There, we came to a stop. Panting for our respective breaths, with our heads on opposite sides of the tree, we had reached a dead end.

  “Okay, pal, let’s go back to square one. Shall we introduce ourselves?”

  “No. I don’t like you.”

  “Well, you know what? I don’t like you either. I disliked you on sight.”

  “You’re keeping me from my work.”

  “And you’re keeping me from mine. What should we do about that?”

  “Go away. I want to be alone and quiet, with no one to bother me.”

  I managed a bitter laugh. “Hey, nothing would please me more than for you to be alone and quiet and about fifty miles from here. Unfortunately, that’s not where we are. We are high-centered on a tree, and until one of us moves, we’re going to stay here. Do you want to stay here all day and all night?”

  “No. I have work, important work.”

  “Then maybe we should talk, only it’s hard to talk when our heads are on opposite sides of a tree trunk. If you will move three steps to the right, we’ll be able to see each other.”

  “No. I’ll not budge.”

  “Great, fine. You’ll not budge, we’ll not talk, and we’ll just stay here until the buzzards come to clean up the mess.”

  Two hours passed. Two hours! I thought I would die of boredom. In sheer desperation, I came up with a compromise plan.

  “Jake? Are you listening?”

  “No.”

  “Yes you are, so listen some more. I’ve come up with a plan. If you move three steps to the right and if I move three steps to the left, we’ll get unhooked from this tree. Moving to the left or right isn’t the same as backing down. Do you follow me?”

  “No. I want to be alone.”

  “Move three steps!”

  There was a moment of throbbing silence. Then . . . “All right. Three steps, not one step more.”

  After a few failed attempts, we both moved three steps and managed to disengaged ourselves from the stupid tree. We glared at each other. Since we’d already wasted enough time tied to the tree, I broke the silence.

  Chapter Six: The Drama Gathers Momentumum

  “Alright, now we can talk. Point One: this is all your fault. You’re the one who wandered away from your quail hunt and got lost.”

  “They left me no choice. I had to get back to Madagascar.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t know where Madagascar is, but I think you missed it by a couple of miles, and here you are, ruining my life. I hope you’re happy.”

  “I’m not happy. I want to be alone.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You still don’t get it. We’re tied together. You can’t be alone. Even worse, I can’t be alone. Slim did this because . . . I don’t know why, but the point is, Jake, and I want you to listen very closely to this . . . the point is that we have to work together on this deal. Do you understand?”

  I looked into his eyes. They were . . . distant. Empty. How do you communicate with a guy who doesn’t even look at you? I didn’t know, but I had to try.

  “Okay, you leave me no choice. You’ve forced my hand and now I have to . . . well, use manners.” Boy, that hurt. I took a deep breath and plunged into it. “Jake, my name is Hank the Cowdog. I’m Head of Ranch Security, and you might say that I own this outfit. Speaking on behalf of the Security Division and the entire staff, I’d like to welcome you to the ranch. We hope your stay with us will be a pleasant, happy, fulfilling experience.”

  Speaking such lies and rubbish almost killed me. But you know what? It seemed to help. For the first time, he looked me in the eyes. Then he glanced over his shoulders and whispered, “Who sent you?”

  “Well . . . uh . . . I don’t know. Slim, I guess.”

  “Did they send you or did you come on your own? I have to know.”

  “Tell me more about who they are?”

  Again, he looked over his shoulders. “The pirates. They’ve taken Madagascar.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Yes. I’ve heard it. It must be true.”

  “Well, darn. Uh . . . this Madagascar . . . I guess it’s a town in the Texas Panhandle, huh?”

  He beamed me a glare. “No, you fool, it’s an island.”

  “Oh, sure, right. I remember now. It’s an island off the coast of . . . it’s down by Muleshoe, right?”

  “No. Off the coast of Africa.”

  “Okay, now we’re cooking. That’s down by Lubbock, and you say these, uh, pirates have captured it, huh?”

  “Yes. And unless they’re stopped, they will find . . .” He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. “. . . the treasure!”

  “No kidding. The treasure, huh?”

  “Shhhhh! Not a word, not a word to anyone. This must be kept secret.”

  “Oh, sure, but you don’t need to worry about me blabbing things around. I’m in the Security Business, don’t you know, and we keep secrets all the time.”

  “Good. It mustn’t leave this room.”

  Room? I glanced around and saw a tree, several birds, and a lot of buffalo grass. This guy was definitely a little strange. “Okay, so where are we with this deal?”

  Jake cut his eyes from side to side. “I must return to Madagascar at once. Otherwise, the trea­sure will be lost.”

  “Good point. Now Jake, listen to me. I want you to go to Magdalena.”

  “Madagascar.”

  “Whatever. And I might be able to help you, but first we have to get unhitched.”

  “Ah. You mean the rope?”

  “Yes, I mean the rope—only it’s baling twine, not rope.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Good, neither do I, so let’s mush on. Slim won’t untie us until he sees us walking around together and thinks we’ve become pals.”

  “Ah. Do you have a plan for this?”

  “Sure. He’s working down at the corrals. If we can figure out how to walk down there together, maybe he’ll cut us loose.”

  “It might work.”

  “Of course it’ll work. Then you can take off for Magnacarta.”

  “Madagascar.”

  “Look, buddy, I’m having a little trouble with the name. Don’t get your nose out of joint.”

  He stared at me with those veiled eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my nose. I have a brilliant nose. I’ve won many shows. I was offered a position as Professor of Quail.”

  “Yeah, and my name’s Lulu.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Let’s try to walk down to the corrals.”

  It wasn’t as easy as you might suppose, walking together as a team. I did my part, but every once in a while, Doctor Dingbat
would start wandering off and we would get ourselves into another tug of war. The guy had no common sense. None. Zero.

  Professor of Quail. What a joke.

  It took him a while to get the pattern down, but at last he figured out that if we walked side by side, the deal would work, and by the time we reached the corrals, everything was hunky-dory. A careless observer might have thought we’d become the best of pals.

  Ha. I couldn’t wait to get rid of the pest. The sooner he left for Melagasper, the better I’d like it.

  Slim was in the wire lot, ground-training a colt. He was walking behind the colt, driving him with something called “lunch lines” and teaching him to gitty up and whoa. Horses are such dumbbells, they have to be taught the very simplest of commands.

  I mean, think about it. If you’re a horse, a working professional ranch horse, you don’t have to speak Greek and Hebrew. All you have to know is two words: gitty up and whoa. But do you suppose they come into this world prepared for their job? Heck no. They have to be coached and taught and trained, fussed over and mollycoddled, just so they can learn two words.

  A dog would be fired for such incompetence.

  They are pure dummies, but of course they don’t know it. They are vain, cocky, arrogant, and overbearing, and worst of all, they will chase dogs. Yes. They will chase dogs, bite dogs with their big, green-stained teeth, and will even kick dogs for no reason at all.

  Okay, maybe we bark at them sometimes, but that’s no reason . . . never mind. I don’t like ’em, that’s the point.

  So Slim was wasting his time, trying to teach a couple of simple words to a lead-brained colt, and he saw us walking up to the corral. He stopped his work and came over to the corral fence. He looked down at us and nodded his head.

  “This is looking better. I guess you boys figured out how to get along.”

  I gave him Sincere Wags and Earnest Ears, as if to say, “Oh yes, Jake and I have become dear friends, the very best of friends. Ours is a friendship that will last a lifetime . . . or at least a couple of days. Now, could we, uh, do something with the twine?”

  He gave it some thought. “Okay, I’ll cut y’all loose. But Hank, I won’t stand for any fighting, and I want you to stick close to old Jake. I have a feeling that he ain’t playing with a full deck of cards.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. He was telling ME that? Oh brother! As if I didn’t already know.

  He cracked a smile. “See, one of us has to keep an eye on him, me or you, and since I’m a senior executive around here, I decided to let you volunteer. Besides, I’ve gotta go feed the cattle in the middle pasture.”

  Very funny. He was too lazy to take care of his own messes, but that was okay. I’ve always known that, in many ways, this is a lousy job, but I could put up with Jake for a couple of days. I would do the job of a loyal dog, put in my time, and look forward to the moment when we could put wheels under Jake and send him down the road.

  But the impoitant port is that Slim cut the twine, and at least I was no longer tied to the old crowbait. Important point.

  When Jake realized that we’d been separated, he glanced around and whispered, “Ah. The way is clear. I must leave for Madagascar at once.” And he started walking away.

  I ran and caught up with him. “I’m supposed to stick with you, pal, and help keep you from doing something stupid.”

  “I don’t need any help.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion, I guess. How do you plan to get to this place?”

  Once again, he gave me that secret look. “You won’t tell?”

  “Promise.”

  “There’s a secret passage.”

  “A secret passage on my ranch? Ha, ha. Jake, if there were a secret passage on this outfit, I would have found it long ago.”

  “I’ll show you . . . but you must tell no one.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, buddy, show me the secret passage. We’ve got nothing better to do for the next three days.”

  I followed him up to the area just west of the house. Loper was welding inside the machine shed, and the glow from the welder cast eerie shadows across the gravel drive. Jake saw this and stopped.

  He glanced around and whispered, “It’s the Northern Lights. We were blown off course in a storm. This must be Iceland.”

  “It’s a welder, Jake, and we’re in Ochiltree County.”

  “You don’t know them as well as I. They’ll stop at nothing to keep me away from the treasure. You have much to learn.”

  He headed west in a long trot, toward an old shed that sat just west of the chicken house. I was about to follow, when Loper came out of the machine shed. He looked mad.

  “The only thing worse than welding on busted farm equipment is running out of welding rods in the middle of a job. Now I have to make a trip to town.”

  He stormed over to his pickup and drove away.

  Maybe you don’t see the significance of this. At the time, neither did I, but it turned out to be a very important clue in the unfolding drama. Here, check this out.

  Clue #1: Sally May, Baby Molly, and Alfred had left the ranch thirty minutes ago.

  Clue #2: Loper had just left to get welding rod.

  Clue #3: Shortly after Loper went to town, Slim finished working with the colt and went off to feed cattle.

  Do you see the pattern developing? Don’t forget that Slim had said something about a saddle thief. You’d better hang on. The scary part is coming.

  Chapter Seven: The Mysterious Visitor

  Okay, where were we? Oh yes, everyone had left the ranch, and I had to run to catch up with Jake the Uninvited Bird Dog. When I caught up with him, he was standing in front of the old shed, and he appeared to be muttering to himself.

  “This could be it. Yes, I’m sure it is.”

  I glanced around and saw nothing that seemed unusual or important. “What are you looking at?”

  His head whirled around. “Shhh! Do you want to give away my plans?”

  “Plans for what? What are you doing?”

  He lifted his eyes to the sky and heaved a sigh. “How can I do my work . . . this is the entrance to the secret passage, you noodle!”

  I looked it over. “No, Jake, I think you’re the noodle in this haystack. That happens to be the entrance to the underside of the shed. There’s nothing under there but dirt and a cinderblock foundation.”

  He gave me a sneer. “What do you know? Have you ever traveled the world, been to the Seven Seas, stood on the coast of Madagascar?”

  “Well, I . . . no.”

  “Then please be silent.” He glanced around. “I’m going. You may come or not, it’s of no matter to me.”

  “No thanks.”

  “So be it. To Madagascar!”

  He dropped down on his belly and began wiggling into the narrow space between the shed and the ground. Soon only his stick tail was showing, and then even that vanished. I stuck my nose into the dark space and looked into the gloom.

  “Hey, is there really a secret passage in there?”

  “Of course there is. Are you coming?”

  Well . . . hmm. On the one hand, I wasn’t too fond of dark narrow spaces, but on the other hand . . . gee, what if there really was a secret passage? That was the kind of information a dog should know about his own ranch, and what the heck, a short trip to Magabaster might be kind of . . . well, fun.

  Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t the kind of dog who was driven by a foolish desire to have fun all the time, but a little fun every now and then . . . don’t forget the wise old saying: “All work and no play make Jack Sprat eat no fat.” Is that what I wanted out of life? A life without steak fat or fatty ends of bacon? Heck no.

  I mean, these wise old sayings have been passed down through the ages for a reason—to guide us and help us make difficult decisions—and it seemed prett
y clear that I needed to spend a couple of hours sunning on the beaches of . . . whatever the name was.

  So I plopped down on the ground and was about to embark on a new adventure, when all at once, my ears picked up a sound. Several sounds. Squeaking, rattling, and the hum of a motor. It appeared that we had a vehicle approaching head­quarters.

  Slim, no doubt. Perhaps he had forgotten something. Or maybe he was coming back to play another silly, childish prank on me. Yes, of course. That fit Slim’s pattern. If a joke works once, do it again and again, until you run it into the ground.

  Ha. Well, he could play his pranks on someone else. Me? I’d been to school on pranks, and I wasn’t about to . . .

  All at once, Drover came running up. He had a worried look. “Hank, there’s a pickup coming. Should we bark it up the drive?”

  I greeted him with a glare. “Drover, I’m well aware that a pickup is coming. I’m also well aware that it’s probably Slim. I recognize the rattles of his pickup.”

  “I’ll be derned. It didn’t look like Slim’s pickup to me.”

  “Did you trouble yourself to take a closer look? Why don’t you go check the tires for Secret Encod­ing Fluid?”

  “Well . . . that seems like a lot of trouble.”

  “I see. You’re too lazy and shiftless to check it out, and now you expect me to run up to the road and do your work for you. Is that what you’re saying?”

  He looked up at the clouds. “Well . . . I wouldn’t have put it that way. See, I’ve been kind of busy.”

  “Doing what? Oh, and by the way, I noticed that you vanished about three hours ago.”

  “Oh yeah, boy, what a scare. See, this pickup drove up to headquarters and a monster jumped out, terrible monster, and he tried to eat me so I thought I’d better hide in the machine shed.”

  Our eyes met. “Drover, I was there. I saw the so-called monster. It was Slim, wearing a gorilla mask. He was playing childish games.”

  “Aw heck. He sure fooled me.”

  “Exactly my point. He fooled you, Drover, so now you’ve come to bother me with . . .” By then, my ears had shifted into the Higher Alert Posi­tion, and they were picking up some odd sounds. “Hmm. Drover, this new vehicle doesn’t sound exactly like Slim’s pickup.”