Free The Case of the Kidnapped Collie by John R. Erickson Page A

wasn’t Rip and Snort. It was Scraunch the Terrible, who happened to be the very worst, meanest, cruelest coyote in all of Ochiltree County. Or Roberts County. Or Lipscomb, Hemphill, Hansford, or any other county you could mention.
    He was standing over Miss Beulah, holding her down with one huge paw.
    I almost fainted when I saw his gleaming yellow eyes and scarred-up face. I was sorry that my sudden appearance didn’t seem to have the same effect on him. In fact, it just increased the size of his grin.

    It took me a moment to find my voice. “Well, Scraunch, by George. Isn’t this a coincidence, running into you out here in the, uh, bushes.” He didn’t speak, just glared. “And you seem to be standing on a friend of mine.”
    When she heard my voice, Beulah struggled to get up. “Oh Hank, thank goodness you found me! This horrible brute jumped me while I was getting a drink, and I think he’s planning to take me as a captive. Get off of me, you big oaf, you’re hurting my ribs!”
    Scraunch got a chuckle out of that. “Huh, huh, huh. Horrible brute catch silly girl-dog away from house and boom-boom, now make her into coyote-girl to howl at moon.”
    She struggled again. “Oh no you won’t, mister. I’ll never be your coyote-girl, and furthermore, Hank is Head of Ranch Security and he beats up coyotes all the time, don’t you, Hank?”
    There was a long moment of silence. “Well, I, uh . . .”
    â€œAnd he’s going to beat you up SO BAD, you’ll wish you’d kept your slimy paws to yourself, aren’t you, Hank?”
    â€œWell, I . . .”
    â€œAnd then he’s going to beat up all your cousins and uncles and brothers, aren’t you, Hank?”
    â€œBeulah, just lie still and let me do the talking. Please.” She lay still, thank goodness, I mean, she was fixing to talk me into a shallow grave. She lay still and I turned to Scraunch.
    He was grinning. “Dummy ranch dog beat up coyote all time, huh?”
    â€œWell, she exaggerates, Scraunch, you know how it is.”
    â€œAnd beat up Scraunch and all kinfolks too, huh?”
    â€œWell, maybe not all of them, but . . . listen, Scraunch, I’ll bet we can work out a deal here. Let me have Beulah and I’ll give you . . . let’s see. I’ll give you a free pass on my ranch. You can come and go as you please, do anything you wish. What a deal, huh?”
    â€œAlready got free pass.” He held up a huge fist.
    â€œHm, good point. Okay, try this. Dinner for two at the chicken house. Absolutely free. All you can eat.” He shook his head. “Okay, maybe you’d go for dog food, genuine Co-op dog food kernels. Great stuff, Scraunch, you’d love it.” He shook his head. “Bones? We’ve got some wonderful bones.”
    â€œHa. Coyote got plenty bones.”
    â€œYeah, but these have been buried for months, Scraunch, my own personal collection of aged bones. I wouldn’t offer this deal to anyone but you, no kidding.”
    He shook his head.
    I was running out of ideas. I cocked my right ear, hoping to hear the sounds of the men coming in our direction. Where had they gone? If they didn’t show up pretty soon . . .
    I turned back to Scraunch. “Okay, Scraunch, I’ll play my last card. Let Beulah go and take me as your captive. Make me your slave, eat me for supper, do as you wish, but let the girl go.”
    He gave that one some thought. “Pretty good deal . . . but not goodest enough. Hunk-dog too skinny for eat, too lazy for work, too ugly for look-at.”
    â€œIs that your last word?”
    â€œLast word. Coyote tired of too much foolish talk.” He beamed an evil eye at me. “Hunk-dog better git-go while gitting-go still good.”
    â€œAll right, Scraunch, okay, you win.”
    â€œHuh. Coyote always win.”
    â€œI know, but before you carry this lovely lady off into