Chapter Three: Another Humiliating Defeat for the Cat

We stormed up the hill and caught Pete, just as he was about to help himself to our corncobs.

“That’s far enough, cat, stop where you are, freeze, don’t move a muscle, halt!”

Pete crouched down and began backing away from the cobs. “Uh oh, looks like the cops are here.”

“You got that right, cat. I’d inform you of your constitutional rights if you had any, but you don’t. All you have at this point in history is a bunch of trouble.”

“Yeah,” said Drover, “and you’re in trouble too.”

“Mmmm,” said the cat, “I believe you’re right.”

“You almost pulled off your devious little scheme,” I said, “but like all crinimals, you made a fatal mistake. Did you actually think you could work your medicine show and shell game on the Head of Ranch Security?”

“Well, I thought it was worth a try.”

“Sometimes the crinimal mind amazes me. You had it all worked out, didn’t you? You had everyone on the ranch playing his part and saying his lines. Oh, you’re clever, Pete, but then you made your fatal mistake. Instead of waiting for a sucker to come along, you tried your scam on me!”

“Yeah,” said Drover, “and on me too.”

Pete shrugged and smiled. “We all have to work with what we’ve got.”

“Exactly,” I said, “and what you got was caught. Would you care to hear how I broke the case?”

“Might as well, if it’s all the same price.”

“Number one: I had a suspicion all along that something wasn’t quite right. You were a little too eager and a little too greedy in eating your steak scraps. In other words, you overplayed your part.”

“Oh shuckins.”

“And number two: as we were walking away, we overheard your smart aleck remark. In other words, you just couldn’t resist mouthing off. That was your fatal flaw, Pete. You blew the case wide open with your own big mouth.”

“Yeah,” Drover chimed in, “and now we want our corncobs back.”

Pete grinned. “Oh no, I’m afraid we can’t do that. You boys walked away from them and now they’re mine. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

I gave him a growl. “You’re going to be the losers’ sweeper, cat, ’cause I’m fixing to sweep the ranch with your carcass. Get away from our cobs.”

His eyelids hung low over his eyes and he started twitching the end of his tail. “Now hold on, Hankie, I’m sure we can work something out. I’ll trade you the last piece of steak fat for your interest in the cobs.”

I was about to reject the deal out of hand, but then I caught myself. Hmmm. I sure did like steak fat. “There’s very little chance we can work out a trade, cat, but let’s see what you’ve got.”

I followed him over to the spot near the gate where he had made a pig of himself. Sure enough, there was a four-inch strip of steak fat lying on the ground, and it appeared to be cooked just the way I like it. Furthermore, a short distance away was a T-bone that still had plenty of meat on it.

I must admit that the fumes coming off the steak fat had a powerful effect on my smellometric apparatus, so much so that I was almost by George overwhelmed by it. I had to take a step backward and turn my nose away from the fumes, else I would have lost my head.

“Well,” said the cat, “what do you think, Hankie? Isn’t that a pretty piece of steak fat?”

“I’ve seen better,” I lied. “Stay here, cat, don’t move. I want to have a conference with my assistant.”

Pete shrugged and began licking his paw. Drover and I went off to ourselves and held a short meeting.

“What do you think, Drover?”

“Oh, I want to trade! If he’s dumb enough to give us steak fat for a couple of corncobs, I think we ought to go for it.”

“Yes, I know what you mean, but there’s something about this whole thing that still bothers me. Look at him, Drover.” We watched Pete licking down some rough hair on the back of his right rear leg. He appeared very cool and confident. “That cat’s too sure of himself. He thinks he’s got the upper hand.”

“Well, he’s wrong about that, Hank. Anybody can see that he’s got the lower leg.”

“Exactly my point, Drover. I think he’s running a bluff. I think he’s still got some flex in his deal, and it’s our job to smoke him out.”

“Well, maybe so, but I sure like steak fat better than corncobs.”

“Of course you do, but you can’t let the cat know it. You don’t understand trading, Drover. It’s a science all to itself. It takes tremendous discipline and self-control. Watch me and study your lessons.”

I swaggered over to Pete. “We’ve discussed your deal, and there’s no way we can let those corncobs go for one measly strip of steak fat. It’s a bad trade and you know it.”

Pete stood up and yawned and started rubbing against the fence. “Well, it was worth a try.”

“Yes, it was worth a try, Pete, and if you had proposed that deal to a couple of ordinary mutts, you probably could have pulled it off. But you’re not dealing with ordinary mutts.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“So, to bring you up to date, we’re rejecting your offer and breaking off the negotiations. Unless . . .”

His eyes widened and his ears twitched—just the sort of clues a sharp negotiator looks for. I had pitched out some bait, and he had made the mistake of going for it.

“Yes, go on. Unless what, Hankie?”

“Unless,” I walked around, looked up at the sky, took my good sweet time, see, which always impresses them, “unless you threw that steak bone into the deal, and that just might send us back to the bargaining table. I’m not making any promises, but the bone would definitely sweeten the pot.”

Pete studied me for a long time, and all at once I could see respect and admiration in those cat eyes which usually expressed only cunning, sneakiness, arrogance, and the kind of smug self-satisfaction that makes cats so hard to bear.

This cat had met his match in all categories. It was written all over his face.

“Mmmm, you drive a hard bargain, Hankie.”

I chuckled. “When you’re holding aces, Pete, you bet the limit. You know that. I know that. Everyone in this crazy business knows that. Now, what’ll it be: stay or fold?”

“I’ll take it.” I could hardly believe my ears. He had just agreed to trade me a piece of steak fat and a T-bone for two corncobs?

I studied his face again, especially the eyes. The eyes tell it all, don’t you know. His had that shifty look again, and my cowdog instincts told me to go slow. “Not so fast, cat. We’ll need to take this up in executive session.”

Drover and I went off to the side again. Drover was jumping up and down as if he had little springs on all four feet. “Boy, you sure put it to him, Hank, I didn’t think he’d ever go for it but you sure put one over on him this time!”

“Be quiet a minute, let me think.”

Drover quit hopping around and stared at me. “What’s there to think about?”

We observed a moment of silence. “Can you see what he’s doing, Drover?”

“Yeah, he’s getting skinned!”

“I thought so too—at first. But there’s a pattern to all this, and at last I’ve figured out what he’s up to. Why would he trade good steak scraps for two worthless corncobs?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Let’s eat, I’m starved.”

“Not so fast. You’re walking right into his trap. The truth is that those corncobs are priceless and Pete will stop at nothing to get his hands on them. I would guess that they’re worth their weight in diamonds and rubies.”

“But who wants to eat diamonds and rubies!”

“Exactly. We’d be fools to try, and we’d be bigger fools to trade Priceless Corncobs for a miserable pile of steak scraps. Drover, if you agree, I’m going to pull out of the negotiations.”

“Oh good, ’cause I don’t agree.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Absolutely sure.”

“In that case, I have no choice but to pull rank and disqualify your vote. If you insist on stinking with your thomach . . . thinking with your stomach, that is, then you must expect to lose some of your privileges. But remember, Drover: I’m doing this for your own good.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a different matter. I thought maybe you’d just made a dumb mistake.”

“Almost, Drover. I almost traded away our fortune, which would have ranked as the dumbest mistake of the year, but our fortune is safe. We have managed to snatch defeat out of the jaws of tragedy, so to speak.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Indeed it is. Now, all we have to do is break the bad news to Pete. I’ll do the talking. If he puts up a struggle, we’ll go into a Code Three. You got that?”

“I think so. Let’s see, a Code Three’s between Code Two and Code Four.”

“We don’t have a Code Four.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Just stay behind me if something breaks loose, and don’t get hurt. Let’s move out.”

We crept back to the fence, but instead of going directly to Pete, I took up a defensive position between him and the Priceless Corncobs. I didn’t think he was foolish enough to start something, but with cats you never know.

“All right, cat, listen carefully and do exactly as I say and no one will get hurt. The deal’s off. We’re taking the treasure down to the gas tanks. Keep your paws where I can see them and don’t make any sudden moves. Drover, get one of the Priceless Corncobs and go on down to the tanks. I’ll keep the cat covered.”

“Okay Hank.” He picked up half the treasure and vanished in the darkness.

Smiling at the cat, I backed away. “You almost pulled it off, Pete. I’ve got to hand it to you. When it comes to being sneaky and devious, you’re the champ. You were one step ahead of me right up to the end, but then you were undone by your own greed.”

He looked at his claws. “I might sweeten the deal a little more.”

“No way, Pete. As you know very well, these corncobs are worth a fortune. Now, just stay where you are while I . . .”

I snatched up the remaining Priceless Corncob and made a dash down the hill to the gas tanks.

And suddenly, for the first time in my career, I was a wealthy dog.