The Case of the Midnight Rustler Read Online Free

than one occasion I had been the victim of a misunderstanding.
    But hey, let me tell you. Loper’s words almost brought tears to my eyes. Suddenly I forgot all the rocks she’d thrown at me, all her cutting remarks about my “odor,” as she called it, all the tacky and hateful words she’d said in anger.
    Right then and there, I forgave her everything—because I knew that she really CARED. That means a lot to a dog, and I made a note to myself to give her an extra big juicy lick on the ankle the next time we met. Or maybe even on the face.
    Well, it was a very emotional moment for Slim and Loper, I could see that. Their loyal dog and Head of Ranch Security was going off on a dangerous assignment, and . . . well, that’s pretty heavy stuff.
    Slim nodded his head and, that was odd, seemed to be biting one side of his lip. “Tell Sally May that I’ll guard him with my life. Come on, pooch, we’ve got things to do and places to go.”

Chapter Four: Sally May Punches My Face

    W ith my head held high, I fell in step beside Slim and we marched out of the machine shed.
    It was a moving experience, a cowboy and his trusted dog going out into the Great Unknown to fight for the ranch and protect it from evil forces. I could almost hear the band playing our battle song—drums, trumpets, cymbals . . . laughter?
    Hmm, that was odd. I was almost sure that my ears picked up the sounds of laughter coming from the machine shed. I couldn’t imagine why Loper and Uncle Johnny would be laughing in the midst of such a solemn ceremony. I mean, it seemed a little out of place to me.
    But as long as they were laughing and happy, who was I to complain? I had received the highest honor a dog can ever hope for—heartfelt expressions of appreciation and adoration—and that was good enough for me. Shucks, I was ready to go out and eat a couple of cattle rustlers for dinner.
    Just then, Drover came padding up, “Hi, Hank. Are you going somewhere?”
    â€œThat’s correct.”
    â€œCan I go too?”
    â€œSure, Drover, we’d be glad to have you along.”
    He began hopping around in circles. “Oh boy, I’m all excited about this.”
    â€œI noticed.”
    â€œIt gets kind of boring around here sometimes.”
    â€œWherever you are, Drover, it gets kind of boring.”
    â€œYeah, I hope it’s not just me.”
    â€œOh no, surely not.”
    â€œThanks, Hank. Where we going?”
    â€œUp into a deep dark canyon to catch a gang of bloodthirsty cattle rustlers.”
    Now get this. All of a sudden, and I mean instantly, it appeared that Mister Stub-Tail suffered a blowout on his left front leg. We’re talking about pain and agony and crippled for life.
    â€œOh, drat the luck! This old leg picks the very worst times to go out on me. Maybe I’d better stick around here. I just don’t think I could stand the pain.”
    I kept walking. “I know you’ll hate to miss another big adventure.”
    â€œYeah, it’s terrible, being an invalid all the time.” He began backing toward the machine shed. “It’ll be boring around here, but I’ll do my best to take care of things. Bye, Hank, and be careful.”
    I didn’t bother to say good-bye. Drover is so predictable. Sometimes I think . . . oh well. We’d be better off without him anyway.
    Slim had parked his pickup down by the gas tanks, and it appeared that we were headed in that direction. We marched down the hill, past the yard gate, and on to the gas tanks. Slim removed the lid from the pickup’s tank and began filling it with gas, and I saw my opportunity to take a quick dip in Emerald Pond—my own private name, by the way, for the overflow of the septic tank.
    On a hot summer day, there’s nothing quite as refreshing as a plunge into those healing waters. My coat of hair gets very hot in the summertime, don’t you see, and I can