Read The Case of the Hooking Bull for Free Online Page A

bulldozer in the dirt with a piece of wood. “Well Button, does that make any sense to you?”
    â€œNope, but it’s a pwetty song.”
    Slim smiled. “Sometimes it don’t make much sense to me either. Well, load up. We’ve got things to do and places to go.”
    â€œCan I wide in the back wiff my doggies?”
    Slim frowned. “Why don’t you ride up front with me? Your ma would feel better if you did. And you never can tell, I might need some help drivin’.”
    â€œCan Hankie and Dwover wide up fwont too?”
    â€œNow Button, we don’t need to be spoilin’ them dogs. Next thing you know, they’ll think they’ve got a constitutional right . . .”
    â€œPweeze, Swim, just this once.”
    Slim shook his head and moved his lips. “Oh, all right, but just this once.”
    â€œYippee! Come on, doggies, we get to wide in the fwont!”
    The three of us made a dash for the pickup, while Slim came along behind, talking to himself.
    â€œI know better than to start this foolishness. Once you spoil a ranch dog, he ain’t worth shootin’ from then on. Course, them two dogs was born worthless, but we ain’t going to make a habit of this ridin’ in front, you hear what I’m sayin’? Just this once.”
    â€œOkay, Swim.”
    Slim opened the door and the three of us climbed up on the seat. At the mailbox, Slim stopped and looked both ways before he pulled onto the caliche road.
    He wrinkled up his nose. “Boy, this pickup sure stinks. If that’s my socks again, I’m going to burn them thangs.”
    We turned onto the road and off we went to the pasture. If I had known what was waiting for us up there, I might had chosen to stay at home.

Chapter Seven: We Meet the Horrible Hairy Hooking Bull

    T here were two roads that led up to the north pasture. One went straight north through the middle pasture, and the other looped around to the west.
    The one that looped around to the west and followed the canyon pasture fence was the longer of the two, which naturally meant that the other was the shorter of the two, right? It was shorter but you had to open two gates to get to the north pasture.
    Slim took the long route so’s he could get by without having to stop, get out, open the gate, get back in, drive through, get out again, shut the gate, get back in, and drive on. You see, Little Alfred wasn’t quite big and stout enough to open and shut pasture gates, and while Slim was old enough and stout enough, he had a small lazy streak and a weakness for using cattle guards instead of gates.
    So we took the long route up to the north pasture. As you will soon see, this will become a crucial piece of information in the unfolding drama of The Hooking Bull. If Little Alfred had been faced with two pasture gates to open . . . well, you’ll find out soon enough.
    As soon as we turned off the main road, Little Alfred started pestering Slim to let him drive the pickup. Slim growled and grumbled about the hazards of doing such things, but since he’d been the one who’d brought the subject up in the first place, he didn’t have much chance of winning that argument.
    So the boy crawled over in his lap and took the steering wheel in both hands. I’ll admit this made me nervous. It reminded me of the time I’d gone on a spaceship ride with the little stinkpot. I won’t say that his driving had caused that crash, but I won’t say that it didn’t either.
    But this time he did all right, kept the pickup mostly in the tracks without too much wandering around in the pasture. After he’d steered a while, with Slim running the gas and the brake, he decided he needed to handle that department too, so Slim gave him a tryout, running the gas and brakes.
    First time he hit the brake pedal, me and Drover got ourselves introduced to the dashboard. After that, he didn’t punch it so hard, but we dogs