I was outraged. “Okay, Drover, we’ve managed to gain valuable information from this experience, information that we can use against him in the future.”
“Oh good. What is it?”
I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “He doesn’t want dogs in his pen.”
And so it was that our long and difficult search for Truth had ended in triumph.
I was about to enlighten Drover on the importance of Truth, but just then, Slim emerged from the chicken house. He came over to the porch and sat down. He reached out his hand and began scratching me behind the ears.
“Well, I’m done. Now it’s time to move along, and I . . .” He left his thought hanging in the air. He hitched up his jeans and went inside the trailer. If he’d known I was listening, he probably wouldn’t have sung his “Song of the Road,” but he didn’t notice me and I heard the whole thing. Here’s how it went.
Song of the Road
Three pairs of socks in a grocery sack,
A couple of shirts and a well-used kack,
It doesn’t take me long to gather up and pack,
And it’s time to load ’em up and move along.
Ben Greene’s books go along with me.
They tell of things I’d like to see.
A cowboy’s life is wild and free,
And it’s time to load ’em up and move along.
So good-bye, four walls,
I can hear the highway call,
It reminds me of the coyote’s distant song.
It’s been mostly lots of fun,
And now this deal nearly is done,
And it’s time to load the truck and move along.
Sagebrush smells like a sweet perfume,
Snowflakes whisper a lonesome tune,
Memories here in this empty room,
And it’s time to load ’em up and move along.
Two old shirts in a grocery sack
Remind me of all the things I lack.
I’m leaving soon and I’ll not be back,
For it’s time to load ’em up and move along.
So good-bye, four walls,
I can hear the highway call,
It reminds me of the coyote’s distant song.
It’s been mostly lots of fun,
And now this deal nearly is done,
And it’s time to load the truck and move along.
When he finished the song, he looked up and saw me. Our eyes met for a moment, and in that moment a wave of great sadness washed over me. Even though he had tried to throw me off course by using words like “kack”—the old cowboy term for a saddle—Slim’s song made it pretty clear that he wouldn’t be going back to the ranch. I had tried not to think about it, but there it was. Slim was leaving us, and most likely, we would never see him again. All of our good times together had come to an end.
I saw the sadness in his eyes, but then he turned away and said in a gruff voice, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Things change, pooch, and I’ve got to move on. I’ll call Loper and tell him to come get y’all dogs.”
Drover was there, and naturally he had to start moaning and groaning. “Gosh, Slim’s not going back to the ranch?”
“That’s what he said, Drover.”
“And we’ll go back without him?”
“That seems to be the plan, yes.”
“Gosh, what’ll we do on cold winter nights? Where will we sleep?”
“We’ll sleep . . . I don’t know where we’ll sleep, but it’ll probably be out in the cold somewhere.”
His lip began to quiver. “I’m not sure I want to go back to the ranch if Slim’s not going to be there.”
I got up and marched a few steps away. “Drover, he’s a cowboy. Cowboy’s drift in and they drift out. A dog can’t allow himself to get attached to them.”
“Yeah, but I already have.”
“Will you knock it off? This is going to be hard enough without you squalling and bawling about it.”
“You’re going to miss him too, aren’t you?”
“No. Things change, Drover. People come and go. The only thing that stays the same is the ranch.”
“Yeah, but the ranch won’t be the same without Slim. Go ahead and admit it.”
“No, I won’t admit it.”
Slim came, carrying two grocery sacks in his arms. They were stuffed with his worldly goods: shirts, socks, underpants, a pair of boots. He placed them on the seat on the passenger’s side of his pickup, then went back inside for one last look around. He heaved a sigh, closed the door, and walked to the pickup, with his head down and a grim expression on his face.
He pointed to the back of the pickup and said, “Load up, dogs, one last time.” He fired up the pickup and we resumed our journey, all of us covered with a heavy blanket of sadness.
Since Slim’s pickup was illegal to drive, and since he didn’t want to move into the “Crossbar Hotel” (his term for jail), he took the back roads and side streets into town.
He was pretty sly about it. Before he pulled out into a street, he stopped and looked in all directions for the police car. Only then did he creep out into the street and resume the journey to Leonard’s Saddle Shop.
We had gotten to within a block of Leonard’s place when . . . imagine Slim’s surprise when we drove past an alley, and there sat the holstein-colored car that belonged to the city police. Slim saw the car but pretended he didn’t. He drove on, holding his breath.
The police car didn’t move. We crept on down the street. It appeared that we had dodged a bullet when . . . thirty-seven flashing lights came on and the police car shot out of the alley. Slim let out a groan and pulled over.
The policeman got out and walked up to the window. “Morning. You’re Slim Chance, aren’t you?”
“Yes sir, and I know . . .”
“Follow me to the courthouse, please.”
“Yes sir.”
We followed the patrol car through town. Drover had held up pretty well, but now he fell apart.
“Oh my gosh, they’re going to throw Slim in jail, and what’ll become of us?”
“I don’t know, Drover. If we’re lucky, maybe they’ll let us go with him.”
“Yeah, but what if we’re not so lucky? Do you reckon they’ll send us to the dog pound?”
I swallowed a big lump in my throat. “I guess we’ll find out.”
At last our sad little column reached the county courthouse. Slim eased the pickup into a parking space, shut off the motor, heaved a deep sigh, and started to get out. He glanced to his left and saw . . . a cowboy leaning against the side of a pickup. His face was hidden beneath the brim of his hat. Slim narrowed his eyes.
I studied him too—the stranger, that is. Wasn’t there something familiar about him? His scuffed boots, the tongue of his belt sticking out, the crease of his . . . HUH? Surely that wasn’t . . .
Slim’s brows shot up and his mouth dropped open. “Loper? Is that you?”
The stranger raised his head. It was Loper. “Just where the heck have you been?”
“Well, I’ve . . . I’ve been shoveling chicken manure, if you must know.”
Loper nodded. “That was probably a smart career move. You never had much talent for cowboying.”
“By grabs, it’s honest work, and I ain’t a burden to the man who hired me.”
Loper shook his head and walked over to Slim’s window. “Look, I’m sorry I loaded you down with my problems. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“No, you should have done what you did. You told me the truth.”
“I told you what was worrying me. The truth is that I met with the banker yesterday afternoon and everything went fine.”
“You mean . . .”
“I mean we’re in business for a
nother year, and the cattle market’s headed up.”
“I’ll be derned. You mean . . .”
“Your job’s waiting for you—if you can tear yourself away from the chicken house business.”
“Huh. That’ll be easy. But Loper, I think they’re fixing to throw me in jail.” He jerked his head toward the officer, who was standing nearby with his arms crossed.
“Well, a couple of months in jail might do you some good. But lucky for you,” Loper smiled, “I’ve already worked this out with the authorities.” He pointed toward the policeman and handed Slim a new license plate. “Put this on, get this rattletrap inspected, and head for the ranch. We’ve got two weeks’ work to do before sundown.”
Slim stared at him. “Well, it sounds just like the good old days. Thanks, Loper. Much as I want to see Alpine, I sure wasn’t ready to leave the ranch.”
So there you are. Slim didn’t have to leave us after all and everything turned out for the best. You’ll be glad to know that by four o’clock that afternoon, I was back in my position as Head of Ranch Security, making my rounds, barking at monsters, and preparing to take the ranch through another dangerous night.
That’s a pretty good place to shut down this story, don’t you think?
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
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.