The Disappearance of Drover. John R. Erickson

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Heh heh. That woke him up. He whirled around, saw me towering over him (badgers are built low to the ground, don’t you know), and off he went, running as fast as his stubby legs would carry him—not very fast. I could have rolled him easy, but . . . well, we wanted to avoid a confrontation if at all possible. I mean, he wasn’t the biggest badger I’d ever seen, but he was still a badger.

      I reached for the radio. “Hank to Drover, over. The package is moving. Let’s give pursuit and see where he goes.”

      “Got it.”

      This promised to be a routine assignment with no major bloodshed. I hit an easy trot and followed the culprit. I would give him a scare and a warning ticket and that would be the end of it.

      He hadn’t gone more than, oh, thirty yards when he came to his hole and dived inside. I was standing over the hole when Drover came up, huffing and puffing. “Did he go in the hole?”

      “That’s correct. I guess he didn’t want a piece of me.” I glanced at Drover and saw that he was wearing an odd smile. “What are you grinning about?”

      “Oh, I was just thinking . . . maybe we could dig him out.”

      “Dig him out? Why would we want to do that?”

      He let out a giggle. “Hee hee. ’Cause there’s two of us and only one of him. ’Cause he’s a little shrimp. ’Cause it might be fun.”

      I gave that some thought. “You know, you’re right, it might be fun. I mean, if he’s in the hole and we’re outside, what harm can come of it? You want to dig or should I?”

      I was shocked when he said, “Oh, I’ll do it. I’m feeling kind of wild.” He puffed himself up and took a step toward the hole . . . and let out a groan. “Uh-oh, there’s that leg again. Maybe I’d better give it some rest.”

      “Drover, one of these days I’m going to get suspicious about your leg. Get out of the way.” I pushed him aside and stepped up to the hole.

      “No, this time it’s real pain, and it’s really painful.”

      “Please hush, I’m trying to concentrate.”

      I started digging, and we’re talking about dirt flying in all directions. Hey, this was fun! After moving several cubic yards of dirt, I stuck my nose into the hole and delivered a blast of barking. “This is Ranch Security, so listen up! The next time you want to tear up ranch property . . .”

      Huh?