“I’ll bet.”
“What you working on?”
I glanced over both shoulders before I answered. “There’s something funny going on around here, Drover. Look at these tracks.” I pointed to the tracks but he didn’t look.
“Tracks are down here in the dirt, son. That’s where you find most tracks, on the ground.”
“Hank, tell me something. Did you really join up with the coyotes? I mean, did you really think you could live with them?”
I walked a short distance away and for a minute I didn’t answer. “Drover, if I tell you something, will you swear to keep it a secret?” He bobbed his head. “No, I mean you’ve got to swear an oath.”
He raised his right paw. “I swear an oath, Hank. My lips are sealed.”
“Okay, I guess I can trust you. You know what undercover work is?”
“Sort of.”
“Well, that’s what I was doing. See, we weren’t getting anywhere with the chickenhouse murders, and I figgered the only way we could crack the case was for me to infiltrate the coyote tribe. It was risky. I knew there was a good chance I’d never come back alive, but it had to be done.”
“No fooling?”
“That’s right. And it had to be top secret. I mean, I couldn’t even let you in on it. If them coyotes had ever suspected a thing, it would have been curtains for this old dog.”
“Wow. Weren’t you scared?”
“Naw. Well, a little bit. Actually, the toughest problem was keeping the women away.”
“The women?”
“Right. Drover, you won’t believe this, but they was actually fighting over me. I mean, it got embarrassing after a while. Why, one evening these two beautiful women . . . I’ll tell you about it some other time. Right now we’ve got another case to crack. Now look at these tracks. What do you make of them?”
Drover squinted at the tracks. “Well, they were made by an animal, and I’d say the animal walked right past here and left these tracks in the dirt.”
“So far, so good. Keep going.”
He shook his head. “That’s all I see, Hank. I’m stumped.”
“Okay, now listen and learn. Them’s badger tracks. While we was busy fighting off the whole coyote nation, a badger slipped into the ranch, and I’ve got an idea that he’s still around.”
“You mean . . . if we follow the tracks, we’ll find him?”
“That’s correct.
“Uh-oh. Badgers are pretty tough.”
“Yes, that’s true, but duty’s duty. If we start letting badgers in here, before you know it they’ll try to take the place over. Come on, Drover, we’ve got work to do.”
He gulped. “Badgers have big claws, Hank.”
“You leave the claws to me. I’ll go in the first wave, then you jump him from behind. And dang you, if you run off and leave me again, I’ll . . . I don’t know what I’ll do, but you won’t like it.”
“Okay, Hank. I’ll be right behind you.”
I put my nose to the ground and started following the trail. It led around the saddle shed and through the garden. Reading the signs, I saw where Mr. Badger had stopped in the garden and dug up a couple of worms or bugs.
I continued east, following the trail through the gate, past the gas tanks, up the hill, and right to the yard fence.
“Whose death?”
“In this business, you never know. You just have to give your best for the ranch. Come on, let’s move out.”
We hopped over the fence. I got down in my stalking position and picked up the trail again.
The scent was getting stronger now. It was real strong. Badgers have musk glands, you know, and they leave a heavy scent.
Suddenly I saw him, hiding in a bunch of flowers. I froze. Drover ran into me. “This is it,” I whispered. “Good luck.”
I crept forward two more steps, went into my attack position, and sprang.
Suspended in the air over the flowerbed, I got a good look at the enemy. It suddenly occurred to me that badgers aren’t black with two white stripes running down the middle of their backs. They don’t have a small head with beady little eyes, or a long bushy tail.
It was a skunk. I had been duped.
I tried to change course in midair but it was too late. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Drover jump the yard fence and head for the machine shed.
What followed was entirely predictable. I landed right in the middle of the scoundrel. He fired. The air turned yellow and poisonous. My eyes began to water and I gasped for breath.
Sally May’s south window happened to be open. Was that my fault? I mean, had I gone through the house that morning opening all the windows? Of course not, but on this ranch, Rule Number One is that, when in doubt, blame Hank.
I ran for my life and rounded the corner of the house just as Sally May came boiling out the back door. She was armed with a broom and took a swat at me as I flew past. My eyes were stinging so badly that I . . .
You’ve got to understand that I could hardly see and was having trouble catching my breath. The back porch door was open, and you might say that I ran into the utility room . . . where Sally May had just taken a basket of clean clothes out of the washing machine.
Was it my fault that she happened to be washing clothes that day?
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU STINKING DOG!”
Well, as I’ve said before, every dog in this world isn’t cut out for security work. It requires a keen mind, a thick skin, and a peculiar devotion to duty. I mean, you put in sixteen-eighteen hours a day. You’re on call day and night. Your life is on the line every time you go out on patrol. You’re doing jobs that nobody else wants to do because of the danger, etc.
You make the world a little safer, a little better. You take your satisfaction where you can get it, in knowing that you’re doing the job right.
The very people you’re protecting won’t understand. They’ll blame you when things go wrong. But that’s the price of greatness, isn’t it? And if you were born a cowdog, it’s all part of a day’s work.
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
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 V
anishing 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
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.