The Case of the Midnight Rustler Read Online Free Page A

say without exaggeration that Emerald Pond has saved my life on more than one occasion.
    I went sprinting to the water’s edge and dived into its green embrace. Oh, wonderful coolness! Oh, manly fragrance! I relaxed my legs and surrendered my whole entire being to cool floatinghood.
    It was then that I noticed Sally May coming down the path from the corrals. It was OUR dog path she was using, if you want to get technical about it, but I sure didn’t have any problem with her borrowing it for a while. Sally May is welcome to use our path any time she wants.
    Walking with her that morning was Baby Molly, age one year or thereabouts. It appeared that Molly was learning to walk on two legs, and I’ve often wondered why we dogs never learned that trick.
    How do you explain that? Both Little Alfred and Molly had started out walking on all fours, just the way a normal dog would do it, but then at some point they switched over to the two-legged approach.
    It makes me wonder if I missed a lesson or two in my early training. How come I can’t do that? I’ve tried it many times, but I could never go more than a few steps on two legs.
    Beats me. Maybe that’s just the way it’s supposed to be, but it does make a guy wonder.
    Anyways, there was Sally May, the very lady who, according to our intelligence reports, would be worried sick about me while I was on combat duty up the in the deep dark canyon.
    Yes, I was a very busy dog. Yes, I had many things on my mind as I prepared to go into combat against the Deadly Gang of Rustlers. But one of the marks of a true Head of Ranch Security is that he MAKES time for the important people in his life.
    I mean, in this line of work, a guy can get so wrapped up in his own affairs that he forgets to share himself with the very ones he’s protecting out there on Life’s Front Lines. At some point you just have to by George stop and smell the rose-colored glasses.
    The opportunity had presented itself for me to spend some quality time with Sally May and her little daughter, so I hauled my wet and highly conditioned body out of Emerald Pond and loped over to them.
    When I arrived, Sally May was kneeling beside Baby Molly and appeared to be engrossed in something. Oh yes. Molly held a big black bug in her fist and was trying to eat it.
    (Let me pause here to mention that, in some ways, Molly was a weird little kid. I mean, she ate things like dirt and leaves and twigs. And bugs. Shucks, I once saw her chewing on the trunk of a tree. Can you imagine that? A little girl trying to eat a whole tree? Maybe she was part beaver, I don’t know.)
    Anyways, she had this black beetle clutched in her plump little fist, and she’d already made up her mind to eat that rascal, but Sally May had other ideas and was trying to pry open her fist.
    I figgered this might be a good time for me to shake all the loose water out of my coat. Every once in a while we dogs will drip-dry, but it’s usually better to shake. It’s a little more trouble but better in the long run.
    Cuts down on the chances of getting the sniffles. As much as we use our noses in the Security Business, we sure don’t need the sniffles.
    So I closed my eyes, extended my tail, and went into the shaking maneuver, shook every inch of hair and tissue between the tip of my nose and the end of my tail. It was a heck of a good shake, but suddenly the peace and tranquility of the moment were interrupted by a piercing scream.
    Over the years I have observed that for every scream, there is a screamer. That scream didn’t just happen. It had been caused by something, and I had a pretty good idea what it was.
    Sally May had gotten a good look at that bug and it had scared the daylights out of her.
    Well, you know where I stand on the matter of Ladies in Distress. Nothing in this world calls me into action quicker than the scream of a lady in distress, especially if she happens to be my master’s wife.
    In