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Автор: John R. Erickson
Издательство: Ingram
Серия: Hank the Cowdog
Жанр произведения: Учебная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781591887300
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      The Case of the Haystack Kitties

      John R. Erickson

      Illustrations by Gerald L. Holmes

      Maverick Books, Inc.

      Publication Information

      MAVERICK BOOKS

      Published by Maverick Books, Inc.

      P.O. Box 549, Perryton, TX 79070

      Phone: 806.435.7611

      www.hankthecowdog.com

      First published in the United States of America by Gulf Publishing Company, 1998.

      Subsequently published simultaneously by Viking Children’s Books and Puffin Books, members of Penguin Putnam Books for Young Readers, 1999.

      Currently published by Maverick Books, Inc., 2013

      1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

      Copyright © John R. Erickson, 1998

      All rights reserved

      Maverick Books, Inc. Paperback ISBN: 978-1-59188-130-8

      Hank the Cowdog® is a registered trademark of John R. Erickson.

      Printed in the United States of America

      Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      Dedication

      For two new Hank fans: Kale Todd Erickson and David Rinker

      Contents

      Chapter One I Catch Drover Doing Ridiculous Things

      Chapter Two Mocked by the Small Minds on the Ranch

      Chapter Three I Discover a Stray Cat in the Haystack

      Chapter Four I Give Momma Cat the Order to Leave

      Chapter Five Feeding Cattle with Slim Can Get Pretty Boring

      Chapter Six Beware: This Chapter Is Very Scary

      Chapter Seven The Runaway Pickup Plunges into the Bottomless Creek

      Chapter Eight Slim’s Mackerel Sandwiches Are Poisonous

      Chapter Nine Bummer: I Get Drafted to Guard the Stack Lot

      Chapter Ten Surrounded by a Bunch of Urchin Cats

      Chapter Eleven The Bull Comes and Attacks the Poor Cats

      Chapter Twelve Motherhood Wins the Day!

      Chapter One: I Catch Drover Doing Ridiculous Things

      It’s me again, Hank the Cowdog. The day began just as many other days had started. I barked up the sun exactly at daylight, barked at a mockingbird that was making a nuisance of himself in one of those elm trees near the gas tanks, and did a routine patrol of the corrals.

      Little did I know or suspect that before the day was done, I would be trapped in a runaway pickup or that I would discover a nest of trespassing stray cats in the haystack. Or that I would do battle with a raging bull.

      Pretty busy day, huh? But I didn’t know any of that, and you’re not supposed to know it either, so just forget that I mentioned it.

      In every way, it appeared to be just another day on the ranch, a normal day in other words, in the late spring or early summer. The first of May, I guess it was. Yes, because Sally May had planted her garden, and the chinaberry trees were beginning to bloom, and the cottonwoods along the creek had begun putting out cotton.

      Have we discussed cottonwoods and cotton? Maybe not. Cottonwood trees are called cottonwood trees for three reasons. Number One, they are trees. Number Two, their trunks contain wood. And Number Three, the leafy portion of the tree produces little seeds that resemble puffs of cotton, and in the springtime the air is filled with them.

      Hencely, if you put those three elements together—tree, wood, and cotton—you come up with the name of the tree. No, wait a minute. If you put them together, you’d come up with . . . hang on just a second whilst I do some figuring . . . you’d come up with “treewood cotton,” which is not the name of the tree. It’s not the name of anything. It’s gibberish.

      So what we have to do is take those same three elements—tree, wood, and cotton—and reverse the order, see, and that gives us the correct answer, which is “cottonwood tree.”

      Pretty slick, huh? You bet it is. How many dogs can tell you everything about trees? Not many. Very few. Most of your ordinary ranch mutts have only one use for a tree and couldn’t care less about where the name comes from.

      You might be wondering what this discussion of cottonwood trees has to do with the mysteries that were about to unfold on that particular day. Well . . . not much, actually, except that when I returned to my office around eight o’clock that morning, I caught Drover in the act of . . . you won’t believe this. Even I found it hard to believe.

      I mean, I’ve served on this ranch with Drover for . . . how many years? A lot. We’ve shared the same bedroom-office under the gas tanks, worked many cases together, solved many mysteries, shared the same bowl of Co-op dog food, and you’d think that after all that, I would have seen every dumb stunt that Drover could come up with.

      Nope. On that particular morning, I caught the little mutt . . . chasing puffs of cottonwood cotton. That was a new one. I’d watched him chase butter­flies, grasshoppers, frogs, and crickets. I’d seen him snap at snowflakes and cinders from burning garbage. But I had never supposed that I would . . . so forth, but I did.

      I sat down on my gunnysack bed and watched. He was so wrapped up in his little adventure, he didn’t even notice me.

      Here came a puff of cotton floating through the air. Drover spotted it and crouched down.

      He watched it coming. His ears were up, and his eyes were locked on the target. When it passed over­head, he sprang into the air and snapped at it. He missed, of course, and hurled himself at it again and snapped again, and landed on his back in the dirt.

      I guess he caught it the second time. Anyway, it disappeared.

      Well, that was enough. I rose from my gunnysack and marched over to him. He was still lying on the ground, huffing and puffing, and looking pretty proud of himself.

      “Oh, hi Hank. Did you see what I just did?”

      “Yes, I saw it, the whole thing.”

      “Pretty good, huh? I snapped it right out of the air, and I got it on the first shot.”

      “You got it on the second shot.”

      “Oh. Maybe that was it. I almost got it on the first shot, and then I sure ’nuff got it on the second.”

      I took a deep breath and looked around to see if we were alone. What I had to say was going to be embarrassing, and I didn’t want anyone outside of the Security Division to hear it.

      “Drover, we need to have a little talk.”

      “We do?”

      “Yes, we do. It has come to my attention that you often engage in behavior that is . .