The Case of the Kidnapped Collie by John R. Erickson Read Free Book Online Page B

took his sweet time about ambling over to where I was standing—and waiting. First thing, he started rubbing on the fence between us.
    â€œAll right, Hankie. What can I do for you?”
    Again, I glanced around to be sure that nobody was watching this. “Pete, I hate doing business with creeps like you.”
    â€œI know you do, Hankie. It probably just kills your cowdog pride. But living in Plato’s shadow hurts even worse, doesn’t it, Hankie? I mean, he’s doing so well with the quail, and everyone is so impressed.”
    I beamed him a glare of laser beams. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Well, you don’t. There are many things you don’t know, but yes, you seem to have scored a bull’s eye on this deal, so let’s go straight to the point.”
    â€œThe point.” He rolled over on his back and rubbed around in the dirt. “What could the point be, Hankie?”
    â€œYou know what I want. Quit stalling.”
    â€œLet’s see if I can guess, Hankie. Could it be that you want my advice on how to impress Miss Beulah?”
    I glanced around. Nobody was listening. “That’s correct.”
    â€œHmmm. Some heroic act that might pull her attention away from her bird dog friend?”
    â€œYes, and get on with it. This hurts me more than you can imagine.”
    â€œOhhhhhhh, poor doggie.”
    He rolled over on his belly, pushed up on all fours, and shook the dust and grass off his coat. Then he turned to me with those weird cattish eyes.
    â€œHankie, did you happen to notice that Sally May put out a bucket of corn this morning?”
    â€œNo, I missed that, Pete, and to be frank about it, corn doesn’t interest me much.”
    â€œI understand, Hankie. You’re a very busy dog.”
    â€œRight, and corn doesn’t fit into my . . . why did she put out a bucket of corn? I mean, that doesn’t make any sense.”
    â€œI know, Hankie, that’s exactly what I thought. Do you suppose she set it out to dry?”
    â€œMaybe. Could be. Yes, I suppose that’s as good an explanation as any. She was drying her corn, and so what?”
    â€œWell, she set out a bucket of corn in the pasture, maybe fifty yards in front of the yard gate.”
    â€œFifty yards. Got it. Go on.”
    â€œIt was in the sun, so I assumed she was drying the corn.”
    â€œSun. Drying. Got it. Keep truckin’.”
    â€œBut then . . . well, it must have been while you were asleep . . .”
    â€œObjection. I wasn’t totally asleep. Keep your opinions out of this, Kitty, and stick to the facts. Go on.”
    â€œWell, while you were lying down and resting your eyes . . .”
    â€œYes, yes? We’re getting close to something, Pete, I can feel it.”
    â€œWhile you were resting, a bunch of wild turkeys came up from the creek bottom and . . .”
    â€œTurkeys, wild turkeys. Okay.”
    â€œ. . . came out of the creek bottom and, well, I’d hate to jump to hasty conclusions, Hankie, but it certainly appeared to me that they were stealing Sally May’s corn.”
    That word sent a shock throughout my entire body. I stared at the cat for a long time, wondering if he knew what an important piece of information he had just given me.
    No, of course he didn’t. He was just a dumb cat—overweight, overbearing, and over the hill.
    But I knew, and suddenly a clever plan began taking shape in the vast caverns of my mind.
    Oh yes, and at that very moment Drover showed up.

Chapter Nine: A Plan Takes Shape in My Mind

    H e sat down beside us and gave me his usual silly grin. “Hi Hank. I guess I fell asleep. Did I miss anything?”
    â€œYou missed everything, Drover. I’ve just blown this case wide open.”
    â€œI’ll be derned. Which case?”
    â€œThe Case of the Turkey Bandits, and if you want to learn more about it, just sit and watch.”
    â€œYeah, ’cause a