Read Online The Case of the Hooking Bull by John R. Erickson - Free Book Online

little careless with it.
    But on the other hand, what else could they do? I had tried to walk and couldn’t. Slim was hurt and couldn’t lift me into the pickup. Alfred had tried. And Drover . . .
    â€œOh Hank, we’re going to leave you out here all alone, and boy, you talk about heavy guilt! This just might do me in.”
    â€œDrover, I’ve got a suggestion.”
    â€œAnything, Hank, anything at all. You just tell me what I can do.”
    â€œAll right. Why don’t you stay out here and keep me company?”
    There for a second, I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. “Stay . . . keep you . . .” He started backing away. “You know, Hank, I’d love to do that, I really would, but with this leg the way it is, I sure think I’d better . . . and I wouldn’t feel right about leaving headquarters without a dog to take care of things, and maybe I’d better . . . ”
    He turned and limped back to the pickup. “Thanks a bunch, Drover, and the next time you need my help, I hope you’ll call a bull!”
    â€œThanks, Hank. I know everything’ll be all right. Oh, this guilt is terrible!”
    He hopped into the back of the pickup and that was the last I saw of the little stooge.
    I looked around and there was Little Alfred, standing over me. He bent down and petted me on the head.
    â€œWe have to weeve you, Hankie, but I’ll come back. I pwomise, I’ll come back.”
    He bit his lip and ran to the pickup.
    Slim put the gearshift in neutral and started the motor. Then he told Alfred to step on the clutch pedal and he shifted into first gear—Grandma Low, as he called it. Alfred let out the clutch and the pickup lurched forward.
    With Alfred standing up in the seat and gripping the wheel in both hands, they made a circle in the pasture and began the long, slow trip back to the house, two miles to the south. The boy waved one last good-bye, and I heard Drover say, “Oh, the guilt! Oh, my leg!”
    And then they were gone.
    The silence moved over me like a fog. My friends had left, the horse had left, even the cattle had left. I had never known such a lonesome feeling in all my career. About the only thing I could cling to was Little Alfred’s promise that he would come back to get me.
    But that wasn’t much to cling to. I knew he couldn’t drive in those pastures without Slim to help him.
    I checked the location of the sun. Five o’clock, was my best guess, which meant that I had four hours of daylight left before darkness fell and the local cannibals began stirring around.
    My whole body ached and that hot summer sun was burning me up. I put cannibals out of my mind and fell into a sleep—and dreamed about cannibals, dozens of them, howling and circling in the darkness and closing in on me.
    I awoke and saw that the sun had slipped almost to the horizon. I had slept for several hours. I glanced off to the south, hoping to see a plume of dust in the air that would tell me that help was on the way.
    There was no plume of dust. Help was not on the way.
    My mouth was burning up with thirst, and I began to wonder if I could drag myself over to the stock tank and get a drink. I did a quick scan of my bodily parts and discovered, to my surprise, that all four legs appeared to be attached, and even unbroken.
    I’m sure the Hooking Bull would have been disappointed to find out that after all his attempts to shred me up like so much paper, he hadn’t even busted a leg.
    Well, if I still had four unbroken legs, maybe I could stand on them. I lifted my hind end, lifted my front end, and found myself standing on all four legs. I took a step.
    Now, those legs were a tad wobbly and I fell down a couple of times, and yes, the old body was beat up and sore, but I finally managed to limp and weave my way to the stock tank.
    The next challenge came when I tried to stand on my hind legs, lean over the edge of the tank,