The Case of the Double Bumblebee Sting Read online

  Your typical cat takes care of himself, fellers, and the rest of the world can go to blazes.

  I could see, even at a great distance, that Pete needed a good thrashing. He was just lying there, see, getting fatter and worthlesser by the minute; purring, twitching the end of his tail, and playing with a cricket that had walked past.

  We can be sure that Pete hadn’t troubled himself to find the cricket. That would have required some effort.

  So, feeling wonderful and wishing to settle an old score, I went creeping down to the yard gate on paws that made not a sound. At a distance of two feet from the end of his tail, I paused and initiated the procedure which we call, if you will for­give the heavy-duty technical terms, which we call “Kitty’s Wakeup Call.”

  ROOF, ROOF!

  Hiss, reeeeer!

  Heh, heh.

  I loved it. It was a wonderful sight, watching Kitty turn wrongside-out and scramble up the nearest tree. It made my whole day. It made my whole week. It made me proud to be a dog.

  But only moments later, my ears picked up the sound of an unidentified vehicle approaching headquarters from the north. I put fun and games behind me, switched into Scramble Mode, and went streaking out to intercept the villains who had . . .

  Okay, relax. It was Slim and Loper, back from their big roundup adventure. They pulled down to the elm grove just west of the gas tanks, and guess who was the first to arrive on the scene and welcome them home.

  Me.

  I jumped up on Slim, licked his hand, sniffed out his boots and pant legs, and gave him a Big Howdy and Welcome Home.

  “Well, pooch, the last time I seen you, your nose was about the right size to fill up a grease bucket. I guess you came through that tribulation okay.”

  Oh sure. It was a piece of cake. No big deal at all. In fact, I had almost forgotten about it.

  I was the first to greet the returning cowboys, but Little Alfred wasn’t far behind. He came flying down the hill and threw himself into Loper’s waiting arms. Sally May came next, carrying Baby Molly on her hip. She gave Loper a big hug and a kiss.

  It was kind of a nice scene. Loper held Alfred and Sally May held Molly, and they all hugged each other at the same time, and Sally May said, “Aren’t we happy to have Daddy back home with us?”

  Then Loper said, “Well, hon, how’d it go?”

  Her expression changed. One eyebrow shot up and an odd smile flickered across her mouth. “How’d it go? Where shall I begin?”

  And she told the whole story of our trip to town in Slim’s pickup. When she came to the part about being stopped by the police officer, Slim and Loper roared with laughter. Sally May didn’t roar or laugh, but watched them with that same odd smile.

  “Let’s just say that leaving me with a snake­bitten dog and a totally illegal pickup was not a noble thing to do.” They got another laugh out of that. She let them laugh. “And let’s just say that you will both pay dearly for your fun, and you can start the yard work as soon as you put up the horses.”

  The laughter died. Slim and Loper were suddenly scuffing up dirt with their boots and jingling coins in their pockets.

  At that point, I left the gathering and went on with my work. See, that pickup and trailer had been off the ranch for three whole days, and somebody had to trademark all eight of those tires. Otherwise . . .

  Well, we didn’t know what might happen, but those tires needed to be processed right away.

  I was in the midst of that job when little Drover came streaking down the hill from the machine shed.

  “Hank, oh my gosh, there you are!”

  “That’s correct, taking care of ranch business and feeling much better, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I mean, good. You do look better and you sound better too. I was sure worried about you for a while.”

  “I’ll bet. If you were so worried, why don’t you pitch in and help me process these tires?”

  “Well, okay, I guess I could.”

  “And then we’ll need to do a thorough patrol of ranch headquarters.”

  “Sure, Hank, but there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

  “Oh? It can’t wait?”

  “No, it’s pretty important. You remember that cottontail rabbit you chased the other day?”

  I ran that one through my data banks. “Rabbit. Oh yes, just west of the machine shed. He took refuge inside a pipe, as I recall.”

  “That’s the one. Well, he’s there again. He’s outside the pipe and he wiggled his nose at me.”

  I froze. I studied the runt with eyes of purest steel. “A cottontail rabbit wiggled his nose at you?”

  “Yes, he sure did, Hank, I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Well.” I stopped processing tires. “This is very serious, Drover, and I have an idea that we’re fixing to get ourselves into some combat.”

  “I knew you’d want to know.”

  “Nice job, son. You were right.” I loosened up the enormous muscles in my soldiers. “Okay, I’ll go in the first wave. You bring up the rear and guard our flanks. Come on, let’s move out.”

  And with that, we went streaking through the elm grove, past the gas tanks, up the caliche hill behind the house, past Kitty in the Tree . . .

  And of course Kitty had some smart-mouth remark. What was it? Something about snakes. Nothing I needed to hear.

  I went zooming up to the machine shed, and sure enough, there was Little Mister Wiggle His Nose, sunning himself on the gravel drive. My plan was to swoop in and cut off his avenue of escape. See, I knew that he’d try to make a dive into one of those pipes in the junk pile and . . .

  And you might say that he did, cottontails are very tricky and it’s almost impossible to get a clean shot at one, and through trickery and pure luck, he managed to dive into one of the pipes.

  That was no big deal to me. I’m the dog who wrote the book on getting sniveling little rabbits out of pipes, and I went right to work.

  “Drover, I’ll bark on this end of the pipe. You bark on the other end.”

  “Well, I guess . . . but you know, Hank . . .”

  “That is a direct order. Do as you’re told.”

  “Yeah, but what about . . .”

  I didn’t have time to hear the rest of what he had to say. By that time, I had already set up a furious barrage of barking and had stuck my nose into the . . .

  Buzz! Hiss! Swish!

  . . . pipe which, hmmm, had obviously been taken over by a, uh, nest of bumblebees. And we needn’t go into any more discussion about bumblebees, other than to say that their sting can be very, uh, painful.

  And to say that the veterinarian had been more or less correct—I had indeed built up an immunity to, uh, bumblebee poison, and this experience proved to be quite a bit wess painfoo and unpwessant than the foost one.

  Case cwosed.

  No, wait. One last detail. That evening when Slim finished up his chores at headquarters, he climbed into his old pickup and turned the switch. It exploded! And we’re talking about smoke and fire and whistles and bangs, and Slim holding his hat and making a dash for the house.

  Pretty derned scary. I saw it all through . . . well, eyes that were somewhat narrowed by swelling.

  Guess who was waiting at the yard gate, laughing and slapping her knees and watching the whole thing. You won’t believe it.

  Sally May.

  Remember the day we came back from town? Stopped at the fireworks stand? And I’d thought that was odd?

  Smoke bombs. She’d bought two smoke bombs and she’d hooked ’em up herself to the spark plugs on Slim’s pickup.

  I told you Sally May was dangerous.

  Case closed.

  And it was a bumblebee.

  No kidding.

  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

  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.