Chapter Six: The Case of the Disheartened Chicken
I dragged myself up to the machine shed. Drover was there, sleeping on the cement pad in front of the big double doors.
I needed a friend to talk to, fellers, I mean I was at the bottom of my luck. On another occasion, I might have chosen a friend with more wealth, influence, and brains than Mister Stub-Tail, but this wasn’t another occasion.
Yes, Drover had his flaws and his short-comings, but after working beside the little mutt for years, I knew in my heart that if he were the only dog available, I would choose him to be my best friend.
This was his lucky day.
“Drover, I don’t want to alarm you, but the very worst thing that could possibly happen has just happened.”
“Skonk snort zzzzzzzzzzzzz.”
“Please don’t panic. Screaming and running in circles won’t help the situation.”
“Snork glorg rumple ricky tattoo.”
“I’ve come to inform you that I have gambled away my future and ruined my life. I’ll be leaving soon to spend the rest of my miserable years living in ditches and gutters. I know this must come as a terrible shock.”
“Skaw shurtling snort zzzzzzz.”
“All I ask is that . . . wake up, you idiot! Can’t you see that I’m pouring out my heart to you?”
He raised up and stared at me. His eyes were crossed, his ears were on crooked, and his tongue was hanging out the left side of his mouth.
“Oh my gosh, who’s going to clean up all the blood?”
“Blood? What blood?”
He staggered to his feet. “I can’t stand the sight of blood, where am I?” His eyes began to focus. “Oh, hi Hank, I must have dozed off. Did you hear about the murder?”
“Murder? No, what happened?”
“Gosh, I’m not sure, I just heard about it, but somebody got murdered, maybe it was a chicken, and they busted into the chicken house and cut her heart out and chopped it up into little pieces!”
“Chopped up her heart!”
“Yeah, it was awful. And then they poured out the pieces of heart all over the ground! And then they chopped up her lizzard and giver and . . .”
“Hold it. Do you mean gizzard and liver?”
“Yeah, did you hear about it too? Oh my gosh, I guess it’s true, Hank, and there was blood everywhere, I saw it with my own eyes!”
“You witnessed this unspeakable murder with your own eyes?”
“I think they were mine. Yeah, they must have been.”
“Holy smokes, Drover, why wasn’t I informed?”
“Well, I never would have thought you’d be interested.”
I glared at him. “You didn’t think I’d be interested in a ghastly murder?”
“No, I meant my eyes.”
“I don’t care about your eyes!”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“I’m talking about the . . .” Then I remembered. “But never mind all that, Drover. I’ve just lost my post, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“Well, there’s a whole bunch of them over in the post pile, and I think there’s a rabbit over there too.”
“Don’t mention that word in my presence, Drover.”
“You mean post?”
“No, I mean rabbit. A rabbit has just ruined my life.”
“I’ll be derned.”
“Because of that lying, cheating rabbit, I have lost my post.”
“Ate the whole thing, huh?”
“Exactly, and I’d appreciate it if you’d never speak of rabbits again.”
“I guess they’ll eat anything.”
“It just breaks my heart to think about this terrible loss.”
“Oh, you can always find another post. Digging the hole’s the big problem.”
“Yes, it’s an enormous hole, Drover, and I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to fill it.”
“Well, you might try dirt. That works sometimes.”
“A whole lifetime down the drain, Drover, and I have no one to blame but myself.”
“I’d blame the cowboys.”
“No, it was my fault. All the cowboys did was laugh at my stupidity.”
“Yeah, but if they’d feed these rabbits once in a while, maybe they wouldn’t have to eat fence posts.”
My eyes swung around and focused on him. “WHAT?”
“I said . . . well, let’s see, what did I say? I think I’ve already forgot.”
“Out with it! Something about fence posts.”
“Oh yeah. I said, if they’d feed these fence posts once in a while, they wouldn’t have to eat so many rabbits.”
“The cowboys are eating rabbits?”
“No, the fence posts.”
“The cowboys are eating fence posts?”
“No, the fence posts are eating . . . you said the rabbits were eating . . . fence posts?”
I looked into the huge emptiness of his eyes. “Drover, has it ever occurred to you that you might be going insane?”
“I’ve wondered about that.”
“It has already happened. The post to which I was referring was not a fence post, but rather my post as Head of Ranch Security.”
“I’ll be derned.”
“I lost it in a bet with the cat. I bet Pete that I could catch the Lumber-Pile Bunny and I failed. Which means that Pete is now Head of Ranch Security and I am Head of the Broken Heart Society.”
“Yeah, but the chicken doesn’t have a heart at all.”
“It was a rabbit, and yes, he was utterly heartless.”
“No, I mean the chicken that was murdered and disheartened.”
“Oh yes, I’d almost forgotten that. You witnessed the crime yourself?”
“I think it was me.”
I looked up at the sky and heaved a sigh. “Drover, there was a time, not so very long ago, when the mention of such a crime would have gotten my full attention. I would have jumped right into the middle of the case and begun a thorough investigation.
“But now, because of my own foolish mistakes, I’ve lost my job and therefore my authority to press an investigation. I suggest you take your repeat to Port . . . your report to Pete, that is, and let him handle it. He’s in charge now.”
“Oh my gosh!”
“Well said, Drover. I think we both know what’ll come of this.”
“Yeah, the chicken’ll never get her heart back and the ranch’ll go to pot.”
“Exactly. But it can’t be helped, Drover. I’m afraid that I’m leaving this old ranch in quite a mess.”
“Leaving!”
“Yes, Drover, I’m leaving. There’s nothing left for me here except the sad memory of how things used to be, and that is nothing but a sad memory. I have failed my ranch, my hundreds of friends, my profession, myself. I’ll spend the rest of my days wandering Life’s ditches and gutters—a dog without a home.”
“Boy, that’s tough,” he said, as he gnawed at a flea on his left flank. “If you put your job up in that bet, what did Pete put up against it?”
“I . . . that’s a foolish question, Drover. Obviously, since I risked something dear and precious to me, the cat put up something of equal worth.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t have anything of equal worth.”
“Of course he does.”
“Such as?”
“Such as . . . well, he . . . that is . . . what are you driving at, Drover? Are you suggesting that I might have been suckered into a stupid bet?”
“I wondered.”
“Because if that’s what you’re suggesting, let me intrude into your little world of fantasy and point out . . .” I began pacing, as I often do to stimulate my thought processes. “Your whole house is an argument of cards, Drover, and all I have to do to send it tumbling down is to remove one single card.”
“Yeah, and I’ve got a feeling that it’s a joker.”
Suddenly I stopped pacing and whirled around. “Because, Drover, there was a joker in the deck.”
“I knew it.”
“Don’t you see what’s happened here? It was a rigged game, Drover, a phony bet, a put-up deal. You thought Pete had won it fair and square, but what you overlooked was the obvious fact that HE CHEATED!”
“I think that’s what I was driving at.”
“Maybe you were droving, Driver, but you ran out of gas before you solved the mystery.”
“My name’s Drover.”
“Exactly. You were close, Drover, and I know perfectly well what your name is and don’t interrupt my presentation again, but not close enough. For you see, Pete risked nothing in our wager and therefore the entire bet is cancelled. And as of this moment, I am reclaiming my title as Head of Ranch Security.”
“Boy, that’s a relief.”
“Exactly. And my first action will be to throw all units into the investigation of this gruesome murder you witnessed with your own eyes.”
“Either that or I dreamed it.”
“And my second action will be to settle all accounts with Pete the Barncat, who has become a minutes to society. Come on, Drover, to the chicken house!”
And with that, we went streaking to the chicken house to investigate one of the most chilling crimes I had encountered in my whole career.