Chapter 3
Ollie was bawling softly while still listening to the last comment from the other side of the den. "Why that's the saddest thing I ever heard of." He said between sniffles.
"Oh now calm down dearie," Audrey tried to hush him; but she too was on the verge of crying as well. "There ain't nothing to…..oh who am I kiddin'." She and Ollie hugged and whimpered softly under each other's arms. After several minutes, Audrey finally whispered. "Now, now let's not overreact here, we are a family after all and nothing is ever going to take that away from us."
The next day, Sampson traveled to town hoping to have a word with the sheriff's hunting dog. Unfortunately, it was not going well. Either the dog didn't believe him or he just didn't want to.
"So let me get this here straight," cocked the Sheriff's bloodhound named Dan with his eyes rolling. "You expect me to believe that the owner of that calf is involved with keeping these crooks runnin and rampin'? And doing their work in secret?"
"That's right," replied Sampson, "Last night I overheard him mention somethin' about a long-term agreement made not too long ago as soon as I saw him hand those crooks some money."
"A long term-agreement," said Dan with suspicious thoughts, but soon his look of suspicion turned into a frown. "But then again, you must have only been listenin' to too many rumors and gossip goin' on around here; plus there ain't any law against keepin' a cow locked up in a shack. Hundreds of cattle are stolen every year and disciplined for misbehavior reactions. It's all part of tamin'." Then he turned to go back into the sheriff's office.
"But it isn't gossip I'm tellin'!" cried Sampson darting after him. "There must be some way I can do to prove it to ya."
The bloodhound paused then sighed, "Look mouse, everyone's been huntin' these crooks down for a long time and not even the greatest bounty hunter could catch up with them. They gave up weeks ago recently." Then he looked at Sampson who seemed to have his head hung down in defeat.
"But….," he began giving the mouse a glimpse of hope. "….. If what you are sayin' is true, then bring me back a piece of any more of those stolen goods if he has any; so that I may sniff out the scent of those crooks."
"But they're hideout is only fifteen square blocks away from Lewis's home; couldn't you at least….."
"I can't just leave here and go off on my own. I need to be by my master's side whenever we're huntin' or trackin' down criminals. If he found me missin' from the porch, he might think I ran away."
Sampson saw his point quite clear. It would take an entire squad to go after a gang of outlaws. He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Alright I'll see if he still has anything of stolen value. But after that, you must help my friend seek out a new home. That old varmint is full of rabies." And he raised his furry hands up above his head curling his little fingers.
Dan who was confident in his duty as a hunting dog, agreed. That did nothing to diminish the pride he had for his masters orders. "Well I know of a train that heads south of here."
Sampson waved goodbye and scampered back to the shack as fast as his hind legs could carry him.
On the way back, Sampson thought he heard the sound of hammering behind the shack. What could that old goat be up to now? He thought as he trotted over to find out. It turned out to be Lewis hammering the secret door with long wooden boards.
"Well there goes our secret hideaway," Sampson slapped his hand to his forehead in shame. "Shucks,I forgot to close it when we were on our way; but I guess he would'vestill followed and found her eventually." He sighed as he snuck into Lewis's cabin by sliding under the door. "Hmmm, I wonder where he keeps the keys." He whispered scratching his whiskered face. He searched around for everything in every room in the cabin for a piece of evidence, but without success. He placed his right paw on the wooden wall exhaustedly. "Heh, what do you know, nothin'…whoa!" It felt as if the wall had moved. Sampson looked upward to what appeared to be a door. He poked his head in and discovered yet another room with a small desk, unlit lantern, a broom, and a few photos of the Yeller Gang altogether on WANTED posters. They appeared to be about a few months old all covered in dust.
"So this is where he keeps his little secrets?" said Sampson hesitantly. "Now if only I could get up on that table." Then he looked at the broom. After climbing, he jumped onto the desk and looked for what else might be of interest. Let's see...there were two more WANTED posters, a key to the shack (thank goodness), a pistol, a knife, the whip Lewis used to strike Grace with (he'll pay for that), and a diamond covered bracelet. Sampson brightened up at the sight of the sparks that glittered. "There's a piece of evidence I could use."
Sampson snapped to attention when he heard the sound of the front door opening then closing with a slam. Thinking fast, he picked up the bracelet, and poster, jumped back onto the broom and hid inside the stiff fibers just in time.
"That cow is goin' to make one good heck of a meal for me," he muttered after sipping a jug of red wine. "Such a shame that I had to teach her an important lesson on the meanin' of obedience." Sampson's blood ran cold as he heard Lewis say that. He must have mentioned the beating. "Then again, tryin' to feed her that stuff I give her everyday doesn't seem to be helpin'; cattle are tastier when they're all fattened up." He swallowed one last gulp down his throat and placed it back down on the table. Quickly while Lewis still had his back turned to the table, Sampson anxiously popped out of the broom, ran at full speed to the front door and crept back under with the two items in hand. He did not like the sound of what Lewis was rambling on about in there. Something inside told him his friend would be in further jeopardy if he didn't get her out of this place fast.
"Well, I got what the dog asked for, so all I have to do is bring it to him." He said proudly as he attempted to run back into town. But then he felt something big and strong press down on his tail causing him to trip on his feet and let go of the two items.
"Ooof...what in heck is...?" before he could finish his little outburst, he suddenly felt something breathing viciously behind his ear in a hot stinking foul atmosphere. Sampson turned his head and was met face to face with the large brute Doberman pinscher he remembered seeing back at the outlaw's campfire." ..going...gulp...on?"His voice was now shaking with fright.
"Goin' somewhere rat?" he growled softly with Sampson quivering like a leaf in the wind.
"What are you doin' here?" asked the field mouse with his voice still shaking. The dog glanced suspiciously at the bracelet for a mere second then turned his attention back to Sampson.
"What am I doin' here? The question here is what are you doin' here with the masters items?" He reached for the bracelet with his left paw and held it in front of his face. "A little early for house robberies don't ya think? By the way, my masters call me Tuck."
"Alright enough of this!" yelled Sampson turning over and placing his paws on his hips. "Who do ya think ya are marchin' your way onto other folk's territory? Maybe it is you who should march on out of here soon, or else the animal that lives here might shoot you right between the eyes." He warned the dog, pointing his finger at him.
"Now why would the master shoot his own guard dog?"
"Guard dog?"
"That ain't your concern, but I was told that the old man was havin' quite a bit o' trouble with a disobedient calf and needed someone fierce and loyal to watch over her; so he decided to pay a little visit to my previous owners and requested that he take me along."
"The Yeller Gang?"
"What, you were there too? Well anyway, I was already growing bored of bein' the lookout every night for bounty hunters on our trail and needed to do somethin' more pleasant. Such as teachin' a cow to stay in line. "
"There ain't nothin' loyal about pickin' on a poor frightened calf." Sampson was now becoming slightly annoyed with this Doberman's attitude who was now speaking in an ill-mannered tone. "And that bracelet you hold in your paw is a stolen one."
"From you sincerely," Tuck mocked with a smirk; though he still kept his eyes on the bracelet. "I don't usually feed on rodents, but for thieves like you, I'm willin' to make an exception, especially for your cow friend."
"Oh yeah, we'll just see about that!" Sampson freed his tail from the dog's grip then climbed rapidly up to where he held the bracelet; and bit as hard as he could into his paw.
"YEOW!" screamed Tuck with his eyes widening from the pain. It caused him to let go of the bracelet with Sampson sprinting back down to scoop it up along with the WANTED poster.
"Come back here you little runt?" he growled chasing after the mouse who held on strongly to the two evidence pieces. They ran around knocking down barrels and water pails, needless to say Sampson outran him quite easily only after Tuck took hold of half the poster in his mouth and tore a big piece off while attempting to catch up to him. Still holding the torn piece he stared gleefully at Sampson who was not only fleeing for his life but running straight back into town.
"Humph," he snorted through gritted teeth, "What makes him think the sheriff will listen to a pathetic weak mouse like him?" He spit out the paper which rolled away with the gusty wind.
"Tuck, get on over here!" called Lewis who had finished with nailing the secret door. He heard all the commotion of barking and chasing and became curious as to why he was acting strange.
Tuck turned his attention away from the fleeing mouse behind the fence confident that nobody would ever listen to a pesky animal; and sprinted over to Lewis who still had a hammer in hand. Lewis looked at the barrels knocked down and gave Tuck a somewhat "You are a strange animal" kind of look.
"What in carnation were you up to, chasin' after gophers like you always do?" He wasn't upset by the wreck he made knowing it would be cleaned up eventually. Right now his mind was on a good tasty meal.
"You shouldn't be wastin' your energy goin' after a bunch of worthless critters."
Grace, who had also heard the commotion, stepped halfway out of the shack to view what was going on. Lewis had left the shack open shortly an hour after he force fed her more of that awful filth; but not before he thwacked her across the face after refusing to taste it. She could also still feel the pain around her neck from when Lewis restrained her with his right muscular arm as she struggled in his grasp, while giving her spoonfuls. Even her stomach was a little unbalanced. So far all she could see were over turned barrels, knocked down pails, and a few footprints made from the dog scrambled all over the dirt field.
"What happened here; did a tornado stroll by?" she muttered foolishly to herself before letting out a small groan. But all that frustration and exhaustion had made her too tired to think straight at the moment. The pain she felt in her stomach was almost similar to swallowing a poisonous insect. "Oh dear, I don't feel so good." The next thing she was aware of was that she fell on the floor groaning and the world was spinning. She thought she heard a torrent of taunting verbs from a flock of black birds flying that encircled above her, but was still confused as to what they were laughing about. Then she began to feel something sharp poking at her forehead.
"What's the matter little cow?" A black feathered figure peered straight into her eyes.
"Maggots got your tongue?" At that point the world stopped spinning and Grace had finally been able to get a good glimpse of the black crow. From what she could remember were voices cackling.
"What are maggots?" she asked in a curious tone.
"Oh just a bunch of little parasites that feed endlessly on dyin' cattle such as yourself." the crow pecked his sharp beak into the calf's foreleg.
"Ouch stop that!" She kicked a few bits of dirt into the crow's face.
The crow stepped a few feet back, ignoring the dust cloud he stepped forward. "Once you're dead, those maggots will come risin' from the ground and devour you entirely till you're nothin' but old bones. But since you're far from dead, it's only a matter of time before they smell you within miles away. Enjoy your last days while you're at it; I'll be waitin'." He flew off the ground at a rapid speed laughing maniacally in the cloudy desert horizon joining his other feathered companions.