The Case of the Measled Cowboy. John R. Erickson
to make my coffee.”
“So what would you feed him? Coffee grounds and peanut butter sandwiches?”
“You might be surprised, Loper. There’s several things I know how to cook.”
“Such as?”
“Such as . . . hamburger steak, chicken-fried steak, ham and eggs, and boiled turkey necks.”
Loper gave him a long look. “You can cook all that?”
“Heck yeah, when I have to. Most generally I don’t go to the trouble, but that don’t mean I can’t. You ought to try my boiled turkey necks sometime. You’d be a whole lot more respectful of my cookin’ if you did.”
Loper was deep in thought. He pushed his hat down to his nose and scratched the back of his head. “You know, that just might work.”
“You bet. They’re delicious.”
“I’m talking about you keeping Alfred so we can get on with this trip. I mean, he doesn’t look sick to me, just got some red spots.” He thought about it some more. “Let me go consult with the lady of the house and see what she thinks.”
He started toward the house and met Sally May at the back door. They discussed it in low voices. I didn’t hear all that was said, but I did manage to pick up a line here and there. It appeared to me that Sally May didn’t go for the idea at first, but Loper convinced her that it would be all right to leave for a couple of days.
Anyways, after a short conference, they both came down the sidewalk to talk it over with Slim. When he saw the hawkeyed look on Sally May’s face, he stopped slouching and stood up straight. She got right to the point.
“Slim, I’ll be honest. The thought of leaving Alfred with you makes me uneasy.”
“Yes ma’am, I can understand that.”
“On the other hand, he’s not running a fever and he says he doesn’t feel bad, so maybe . . . I’d hate to miss seeing my folks. This is their fortieth anniversary.”
Slim nodded. “I’ll be derned.”
“All the family is going to be there.”
“Uh-huh.”
Loper stepped in. “Hon, if he has any problems, he can call. We’ll turn around and come right back. But if we’re going, we need to get on the road.”
Sally May crossed her arms in front of her and thought about it. “Oh . . . I guess it might be all right.”
“Great!” Loper headed for the car. “Let’s load ’em up and move ’em out.”
Sally May didn’t move. She spent the next five minutes going over Rules and Regulations with Slim, while Loper jingled the coins in his pockets and grabbed glances at his watch. Most of the rules had to do with Slim’s taking Little Alfred’s temperature, feeding him “nourishing, balanced meals,” and making him brush his teeth, but then she came to what she called the “Tenth Commandment”: No dogs in the yard or in the house.
Slim chuckled at that. “Heck, Sally May, you sure don’t need to tell me that. No sir, as long as old Slim Chance is in charge of things, we’ll keep our furry friends outside where they belong . . . won’t we, Hank?”
Huh? All at once they were looking at . . . well, at ME, you might say, and suddenly I felt . . .
“Don’t you worry, Sally May. We’ll take care of everything. Now you go and have yourself a good time, hear? If I have any problems, I’ll give you a call.”
“Well . . .” Her eyes darted from me to Slim and back to me. “. . . all right.” She went back into the house to say good-bye to Alfred and to get Baby Molly.
Loper drifted over to where we were standing. He was shaking his head. “She’s a wonderful woman, but I swear . . . traveling with her is an ordeal.”
Slim grinned and nodded and said, “Yalp.”
Loper shot him a glare. “That’s right, you go ahead and enjoy this, buddy, but one of these days you’ll find some sweet thing to marry, and I’m going to enjoy watching you.”
At last Sally May came out of the house with Baby Molly. Loper made a dive to open the car door for her, but instead of getting in, she handed him the baby and rearranged all the luggage in the trunk and backseat. Loper’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, but he didn’t say anything.
Slim watched and grinned. He caught Loper’s eye and gave him a little wave with two fingers. Loper ground his teeth and muttered words under his breath, until at last Sally May was ready to leave. Loper stuffed her into the car, handed her the baby, slammed the door, and trotted around to the driver’s side.
His parting words to Slim were, “Try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone. I guess you’ve had the measles, haven’t you?” He didn’t wait for the answer. He leaped into the car and they roared away.
Slim waved good-bye. “Nope. Never had the measles, and don’t plan to either.”
The car turned left at the county road, flew over the cattle guard, and zoomed off to the west, leaving a plume of white caliche dust hanging in the air.
By this time Slim was slouching against the gate post. “Boy, there ain’t a breath of air this morning. The last time it was this still, we had a blizzard the next day. But it’s too early in the season for that.” He yawned. “Well, I’d better go check on the patient, and then I’m going to spend the next two days catching up on some of this work. You dogs can run the ranch. And remember what Loper said: don’t do anything stupid. I know that’ll be hard for y’all, but do your best, hear?”
What was that supposed to mean? Okay, maybe he was trying to be funny, but sometimes . . . oh well. On this outfit, part of a dog’s job is ignoring most of what the people say.
He shuffled through the gate, up the sidewalk, and into the house, humming a tune under his breath. No sooner was he inside the house than I heard something rattling the bushes on the south side of the house. My ears shot up and I turned to my assistant.
“Did you hear that?”
Drover gave me his usual grin. “Oh yeah, I heard the whole thing.”
“What do you make of it?”
“Well, I guess we can’t do anything stupid for two whole days.”
“Not that. I heard a sound coming from those bushes over there.”
“I’ll be derned.”
We turned our respective eyes toward the alleged bushes and suddenly . . . holy smokes, a shock wave moved through my entire body and all the way out to the end of my tail, and I even heard a kind of gurgling bark work its way out of the inner depths of my throat.
You won’t believe this, but right there in those bushes was crouched some kind of . . . some kind of humanoid monster . . . a midget monster with two arms and two legs, and he was wearing striped prison clothes! And he was grinning and waving at us and . . .
Well, you know me, fellers. When I see monsters and things lurking around the house, I don’t just sit there looking simple. I bark. Yes siree, I ran backward three steps, raised the hair on the back of my back, and cut loose with a . . .
Hold it. Cancel the Code Three. Forget what I said about . . .
Okay, our latest intelligence reports had said that Little Alfred was sick, right? Sick with the measles and in bed, and so the last place we would have expected to find a sick child was in the bushes on the south side of the house, right? But guess who was in the bushes.
Alfred. He was wearing his striped pajamas. And he sure didn’t look sick to me. He waved a greeting and put his finger to his lips and said, “Shhhhh!” Okay, fine. We could shhhhh, but what was he doing out of his bed, out of the house, and hiding in the bushes?