The Case of the Tender Cheeping Chickies - John R. Erickson Hank the Cowdog

Скачать книгу

hold everything. I just figured it out.” I began pacing back and forth in front of the runt, as I often do when my mind is on the trail of an important concept. “The wise old saying to which you referred goes like this: ‘Hope springs eternal.’”

      “That’s what I said.”

      “That’s not what you said. You garbled it so that it came out saying something about bedsprings.”

      “Maybe it was a mattress.”

      “It wasn’t a mattress, and it has nothing to do with a bed.”

      “Yeah, but if a bed didn’t have any springs, wouldn’t it be hard?”

      “Of course. Yes. It would be very hard.”

      He grinned. “Well, that’s why they’re called ‘eternal springs.’ They’re so hard, they last forever.”

      I stopped pacing and beamed him a glare. “Drover, please. You’re embarrassing me. The wise old saying to which you referred has nothing to do with beds, mattresses, or eternal bedsprings. Let me repeat the wise old saying: ‘Hope springs eternal.’”

      A light seemed to come on in his eyes. “Oh, I get it now! The water in Emerald Pond comes from underground springs, and if you take the ‘e’ out of ‘hope,’ it’s ‘hop.’”

      “I’m not following this, Drover.”

      “Water comes from springs and frogs hop, so the wise old saying was really talking about that frog I saw.”

      This was beginning to sound interesting. “What about ‘eternal’?”

      His smile faded. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t fit.”

      “No, it doesn’t. Maybe you should just drop it.”

      “Yeah, maybe somebody made a mistake.”

      “Right. It happens all the time. Okay, now we’re cooking. We’ll cross out the ‘e’ in ‘hope’ and drop ‘eternal.’ That gives us ‘hop springs.’” I pondered those two words for a moment. “Wait a minute, Drover! I think I’ve just figured this out.”

      “I thought I figured it out.”

      “You were close, son, but in this business, close doesn’t count.” I resumed my pacing. “Okay, here we go, and listen carefully. Many years ago, when the Pilgrims first came to the Texas Panhandle, they discovered Emerald Pond, only back then it didn’t have a name.”

      “I wonder why.”

      “Because it didn’t, that’s why. And they saw a frog sitting beside the pond, and when they walked up, the hog fropped away.”

      “So they called it Hog Heaven?”

      I stopped in my tracks. “What? Hog Heaven? What are you talking about?”

      “Well, you said they found a hog.”

      “I did NOT say hog. I said frog. Isn’t that what we’ve been talking about for the past ten minutes? Why do you bring up hogs when we’re talking about frogs?”

      “Well, I thought . . . boy, I sure get confused.”

      “Hear me out, Drover, I’m very close to wrapping this thing up. Okay, when the frog hopped away, they decided to name the place Hop Springs.”

      “Gosh. You mean . . .”

      “Exactly. The old saying ‘Hope springs eternal’ is really a code name for Emerald Pond, dating back thousands of years. And through clever interrogation, I have pulled this secret message out of your unconscious mind. Is that awesome or what?”

      “Boy, that’s an old frog.”

      I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he knew what he’d just said. In the course of his jabbering, he had somehow managed to unearth the last piece of the puzzle.

      “And now, Drover, I can reveal the rest of the mystery, for you see, I have just figured out why the word ‘eternal’ appeared in the wise old saying. ‘Eternal’ means old, right? The frog has been here for thousands of years, right?”

      “Oh my gosh! You mean . . .”

      “Yes, Drover. We thought ‘eternal’ was just a mistake, but it wasn’t. It was embedded into the wise old saying for a reason.”

      “Embedded. You mean . . . bedsprings?”

      The air hissed out of my lungs. “No, Drover, and please don’t mention bedsprings again.”

      “Sorry.”

      “I know you’re trying to help, but just let me finish. The Pilgrims knew the frog would grow older with time and would become a very old frog, so they named our pond Eternal Hop Springs.” I beamed him a triumphant smile. “So there you are. Now we know the true meaning of the wise old saying, and also how our pond got its original name.”

      Drover blinked his eyes several times. “I’ll be derned. That’s pretty amazing.”

      “Of course it is, but let me remind you that doing amazing things is just part of our job with the Security Division. Nice work, son. With no help at all from outside sources, we dogs have pieced together the history of Emerald Pond. What do you say we celebrate by taking a little dip in that very same pond? I’d say we’ve earned—” My keen eyes had just picked up an important detail: Drover wasn’t smiling anymore. “What’s wrong with you?”

      “Oh my gosh! I just had a terrible thought!”

      Chapter Two: We Defeat a Smart-Aleck Frog

      Are you ready to hear Drover’s terrible thought? Here’s what he said, word for word. “If that frog’s been there for ten thousand years, wouldn’t it mean that . . . it’s his pond, and not ours?”

      I stared into the vacuum of his eyes. “Drover, how many times have I warned you about asking questions I can’t answer?”

      “I don’t know. Three?”

      “No. Three hundred. I’ve warned you over and over: Never ask questions unless they’ve been approved by the Head of Ranch Security. Do you see what you’ve done?”

      “Not really.”

      “You’ve ruined everything! How can we enjoy a romp in our pond if it’s not our pond?”

      “Well, I guess we could . . . ask the frog’s permission.”

      “What? Ask the frog’s . . . Drover, I will never ask a frog’s permission for anything, never!” I marched a few steps away. My mind was racing over the many details of property law. “Okay, I think I’ve got the answer to this.”

      “Oh, good.”

      “It’s very simple. We’ll approach the frog in a kind and reasonable manner, and we’ll tell him to . . . well . . . move out, leave our pond, and never come back.”

      “Yeah, but what if he doesn’t?”

      “In that case, Drover, we’ll resort to the bottom line of property law. We’ll beat him up. We’re bigger than he is, and we’ve got him outnumbered.”

      “Yeah, and it might be fun, ’cause frogs don’t bite.”

      “Exactly my point. Come on, son, let’s get this thing settled once and for all. The nerve of that frog, trying to steal our pond!”

      We marched down to the banks of Emerald Pond, and sure enough, there he was—a big fat green bullfrog, sitting on the edge of the

Скачать книгу