The Case of the Kidnapped Collie Read online

  “Ha. Coyote got plenty bones.”

  “Yeah, but these have been buried for months, Scraunch, my own personal collection of aged bones. I wouldn’t offer this deal to anyone but you, no kidding.”

  He shook his head.

  I was running out of ideas. I cocked my right ear, hoping to hear the sounds of the men coming in our direction. Where had they gone? If they didn’t show up pretty soon . . .

  I turned back to Scraunch. “Okay, Scraunch, I’ll play my last card. Let Beulah go and take me as your captive. Make me your slave, eat me for supper, do as you wish, but let the girl go.”

  He gave that one some thought. “Pretty good deal . . . but not goodest enough. Hunk-dog too skinny for eat, too lazy for work, too ugly for look-at.”

  “Is that your last word?”

  “Last word. Coyote tired of too much foolish talk.” He beamed an evil eye at me. “Hunk-dog better git-go while gitting-go still good.”

  “All right, Scraunch, okay, you win.”

  “Huh. Coyote always win.”

  “I know, but before you carry this lovely lady off into captivity . . .”

  Beulah let out a gasp. “Oh Hank, no!”

  “. . . before you carry her away, Scraunch, I want to sing her one last love song, just for old time’s sake.”

  His face showed dill pickles and lemons—a sour expression, in other words. “Uh! Scraunch not give a hoot for dummy love song.”

  “That’s fine, Scraunch, it’s not for you anyway. You don’t even have to listen.”

  He reached out a paw and poked me in the chest. “Hunk not tell Scraunch what to doing.”

  “Okay, fine. Listen to the song. It might improve your mind and upgrade your cultural standards.”

  He gave me a big wicked grin. “Scraunch not listen to dummy love song.”

  “That’ll work. All right, Beulah, here we go.”

  “Oh Hank, don’t abandon me to the coyotes!”

  “Just listen to the song, dear. I think you’ll find it pretty interesting.”

  Whilst I tuned up my tonsils, Scraunch turned his back on me and covered his ears with his paws while keeping a foot on Beulah. As you will soon see, he was walking right into my trap.

  My Best for You

  Beulah, collie of my dreams

  With flaxen hair and eyes that beam

  A light that warms me like the morning sun.

  You do not know, I should not say,

  I think of you most every day,

  And dream of you when every day is done.

  But there’s a shadow in my dream,

  A certain bird dog, and it seems

  That you find him hard to ignore.

  He’s not a bad guy, I’ll admit,

  He’s good with quail but I submit

  That life with him could sure be a bore.

  Now, Beulah, listen carefully,

  There’s more here than the eye can see,

  This song is actually a secret code.

  So do the things I say, my dear,

  I’m going to bust you out of here,

  And when I move you’d better hit the road.

  When the music stops, I’ll punch the brute

  And do my best to break his snoot

  While you and Plato run off to the west.

  So don’t look back but now and then

  Remember that you had a friend

  Who cared for you and gave you his best.

  Scraunch missed the hidden message in the song, of course, but Beulah caught it. I could see the change in her eyes on the third verse. I gave her a nod of my head. She nodded back.

  I took a big gulp of air and prepared myself for the next scene in My Life’s Drama. “Hey Scraunch,” I tapped him on the shoulder, “I’m finished.” He turned around. “But I’m taking your nose with me. Here’s a little bouquet from me and Beulah.”

  I drew back my right paw and delivered the hardest, straightest punch I could muster. I leaned into it, fellers, and gave it everything I had.

  Ker-WHOP!

  Holy smokes, that guy had the hardest nose in all of Texas! It was like slugging an anvil, a tree, a tombstone, a huge rock. It sent an earthquake through my paw, up my arm, through my entire body, and out to the tip end of my tail.

  But you know what else? It knocked him back­ward one step, and that’s all Beulah needed. In a flash, she scrambled to her feet and went streaking off to the west. On the other side of the bushes, she met up with Plato, and together they set sail for the house.

  “Good-bye, Beulah,” I heard myself say. “I wish it could have worked out better for us but . . .”

  I turned my gaze back to . . . gulp . . . the horrible expression on his face sent shingles of sheer terror down my backbone, tingles, that is. Blood dripped off the end of his nose and there was a prairie fire raging in his eyes.

  “Scraunch, I think I can explain everything if you’ll just . . .”

  “Ranch dog die!”

  Before I could argue the point, or turn and run for my life, Scraunch leaped right into the middle of me and . . . that’s all I remember.

  He murdered me right there and that’s the end of the story.

  Sorry.

  Okay, maybe he didn’t quite get the job done, but only because the hunters came to my rescue and ran him off. He did pretty well, though, for a guy who’d been interrupted.

  By the time the guys got there, Scraunch had shown me most of what he knew about boxing, pasture fighting, and Coyote Karate. He’d used my carcass for a basketball, a mop, a broom, and a dustpan, and then stuffed me into a hollow log.

  That’s where they found me. They saw my toe­nails sticking out of one end of the log. To get me out, they had to call in three winch trucks, two units from the Wolf Creek Volunteer Fire Depart­ment, seven chain saws, and three welders with cutting torches.

  Pretty serious, huh? You bet it was.

  But then came the good part. They carried my near-lifeless body up to headquarters and laid me out under that big hackberry tree in the front yard—yes, in Sally May’s precious yard.

  Everyone was there. The whole ranch had turned out to see the Return of the Wounded Hero. Get this:

  —The hunters raved about my bravery.

  —Sally May fed me warm milk with a spoon and lavished her praise upon me for saving her, uh, turkeys.

  —Plato said they should start a special fund at the First National Bank and erect a huge stone statue of me at the scene of the battle.

  —Pete watched the whole ceremony from his spot in the iris patch. I had never seen him look so crushed. I loved it!

  —And best of all, the lovely Miss Beulah hovered near my wounded side, called me her “extra-special friend” and even gave me a kiss on the cheek before she left.

  Wow! Does it get any better than that? I don’t think so.

  Case cl . . .

  Well, there was one small detail that bothered me. When Billy left our place around sundown, Plato and Beulah were standing in the back of his pickup.

  Once again, the bird dog was leaving with MY GIRLFRIEND, which sort of made a guy wonder . . .

  Oh well. In the Security Business, we take what’s offered, and hope the rest will come down the road.

  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 The Case of the Perfect Dog

  60 The Big Question

  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.