Duke and the Poachers

He stood silent, looking out across the field and into the hills beyond, straining to hear the familiar sound. Nothing.

Where could he be?

Duke had been missing for two days now. They'd been hunting in the hills to the south and Duke had run off, chasing a rabbit. That was last Roy had seen of him.

Roy was a good-looking fourteen-year-old who already stood as tall as most men. He wore his jet-black hair longish, just beyond the collar of his plaid shirt. It blew gently in the slight breeze as his sharp, green eyes scanned the surrounding countryside for his dog. Tears misted his eyes as he recalled the day he had gotten Duke. He'd been ten years old then and he had desperately wanted his own hunting dog. Mr. Reynolds' hound had a new litter, and Roy's father had surprised him by bringing one home. Duke had been so little back then. Roy had taken good care of him, and trained him well. They had been inseparable...until now.

Where are you, Duke?

He didn't think the dog was dead. Roy felt that he would have known if Duke ceased to exist. In his young mind, he believed that he just would have sensed if that had happened. So, he must be lost, Roy reasoned. But that didn't make sense either. Duke knew every inch of these fields and hills. It seemed nearly impossible for him to get lost here.

Roy hefted his hunting rifle to his shoulder and continued his search of the fields. It was possible that Duke was hurt somewhere. Poachers often infiltrated his father's land. One of them could have set traps that Duke might have got caught in. The thought angered him. He didn't like picturing Duke caught in the jaws of one of those traps. In fact, he didn't like the thought of Duke being injured at all.

"Duke!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the hills.

He listened intently, but only heard the sound of birds taking flight. He raised his rifle and shot a pheasant. Taking the sack from his belt, he bagged the bird. He continued on, looking closely for any signs of blood that might indicate Duke was hurt. He was halfway up a hill in the east sector when he thought he heard a whimper. He stopped again, listening. There it was again! His eyes scanned the hillside.

"Duke! Where are you, boy?"

Again the whimper came.

Roy followed the sound until he reached a point in the hillside that appeared to be a cave of some sort. He had never noticed it there before. Pushing brush aside, he peered inside. The whimpering increased. Roy struck a match to see into the dark opening better.

Inside the cave, Duke lay on the floor with dried blood on his upper back leg. Next to him, lay a puppy that looked to be no older than six months to Roy. There was a trap attached to its front paw.

"Hey, Duke. How ya doing?" he said to the dog, as he crawled in beside him. "Looks like ya got yourself hurt, eh?"

He quickly examined the dog and concluded he'd been shot. The leg seemed to be broken too. He turned to the puppy. From the looks of it, the trap had mangled the front paw. The puppy appeared to be in shock. Roy knew that if the puppy didn't get help right away, it'd soon be dead.

"You rescue this little girl?" he asked Duke. The dog's tail thumped on the cave floor.

Roy went back outside and working quickly, made a travois to haul the animals home on. He brought it to the cave entrance and went back inside. Taking his shirt off, he ripped it in strips. Then using the sticks he brought in with him, he made a makeshift splint for Duke's leg, hoping it would keep the leg from jarring too much when he moved the dog to the travois. He took the pheasant from the bag and spread the bag on the cave floor.

"Ok, Duke, let's see if we can get ya on this bag, then outside. If I hurt ya, I'm sorry, but we gotta get ya home."

He lifted the animal carefully, but even so, Duke let out a yelp of pain. Once he was on the bag, Roy lifted it by the edges and carried Duke to the travois, tying him to it.

"Good dog. We'll be home before ya know it," he said, petting the dog.

Taking the bag, he returned to the cave and proceeded to do the same thing with the puppy. With both animals secure on the travois, Roy headed home.

"Pa!" he shouted, approaching the barn with his burden.

His father ran out of the barn, hearing the urgency in his son's voice. He was a man of average height with a weathered face. There was a bald spot on the top of his head and a neatly trimmed beard on his chin.

"What's happened, Roy?" he asked. Then he saw the travois.

"I found them in a cave in the east sector. They need a vet. I think the puppy is in shock," Roy said, untying the dogs.

"Poachers?" his father asked, helping to carry the dogs into the barn.

"Looks like it. Duke's been shot, and ya can see the other one got caught in a poacher's trap."

"Go tell Maw to call the vet to come out here."

Roy bolted to the house, while his father examined both dogs. When Roy returned, the trap had been removed from the puppy's foot.

"He gonna lose that foot?" he asked his father.

"Possibly...but, maybe not. We'll see what the vet has to say. Ya know who this puppy belongs to?"

"Naw, ain't never seen it before."

The Calder farm consisted of three hundred acres, half of which was farmed. The rest of the acreage contained hills, forests, ponds and streams, and an abundance of wildlife. It was this wildlife that attracted a new breed of poachers to Calder land. Previously, men had hunted on the farm for fresh meat to feed themselves or their families. Pa didn't object to that. He figured God had been good to him and he was willing to share his bounty with those less fortunate. But this new breed didn't hunt for food. He even set up a stand near the road full of vegetables from his farm, which were free to anyone that wanted them.

But this new breed of poachers hunted for the pelts, and left the meat rotting in the fields. Pa could not abide with that and had begun fencing in his land. Not soon enough, it seemed, for there were traps on his land now--a danger to both man and beast.

Doc Dawson, the only animal doctor in the area, arrived at the farm an hour later. No one was exactly sure how old Doc was. He could have been fifty...or seventy. It was hard to tell by just looking at him. His face was lined with age, his figure stooped, and his gait slow, but his eyes and mind were crystal clear. Roy brought him out to the barn.

"Duke is gonna be awright," he told Roy. "I got the bullet out and thar don't seem to be much damage done by it. The leg is set now, and he'll have to wear that thar splint for a while, til it's healed proper. Make sure he don't walk on it too much."

Roy nodded in relief.

"Now, this here pup's paw is in bad shape. I kin save it, but it won't be much use to her. She won't be able to feel it. Be like it ain't even thar to her. Still, it'd be better'n no paw, I guess. She might be able to walk on it, with a limp...then agin, maybe not. Have to wait and see..."

Again, Roy nodded. He thought he heard a cuss word coming from his left. He looked in that direction, but all he saw was Duke looking at him.

"Calder," Doc said, "these poachers is gittin' outta hand. Had a call a day or so ago to go out to the Finch farm--the people doc being unavailable--and discovered that their three-year-old boy had been caught in a trap when he fell running across a field. He weren't as lucky as this here pup. The trap caught his hand; he lost it. Somethin' needs a doin' 'bout these poachers."

"I know, Doc. I've begun fencing in my land...."

Doc laughed. "That won't help much, Calder. They'll just go over it, or tear it down."

"Well, I'm using barbed wire. Hopefully, that'll deter them a mite."

"I don't think local men are doing this. T'ain't never happened before. Gotta be outsiders...."

"That's what I was thinking too. See anyone new hanging around town?" Pa asked.

"Cain't say as I have. I'll see the sheriff when I get back and see if'n he'll do somethin' about this. Maybe hire some deputies...start patrolling round here."

Pa nodded. "He don't do somethin' soon, we'll have to form our own posse out here to track these poachers down."

After Dawson left, Roy went out looking for hidden traps. Using a long pole, he probed the grass and brush as he walked the land. He had ridden to the north sector, then left his horse grazing in a grove of trees. It was a lot of land for one person to search, and he knew it'd take him weeks, if not months to search it all. But he figured someone had to start. He began in the areas furthest from the farm house, realizing that the poachers wouldn't risk coming in too close. And it paid off. He found five traps before nightfall.

"What ya got thar?" Pa asked, as Roy dumped the traps in front of the barn.

"Traps."

Pa looked at them and shook his head. "Where'd ya find them?"

"Mostly up in the north sector in the brush along the stream."

"They're gittin' them when they come to drink then."

"Seems so, at least over in that section."

"Tomorrow, your brothers and I will go with you. We'll search all the streams and ponds on the property for more traps."

That night, Roy slept out in the barn with the dogs. Duke rested his head on Roy's leg as he lay there pondering the poacher problem.

"We're gonna git them poachers, boy," he told the dog. "Cain't have ya gittin' hurt agin...or any other animal or human, for that matter." He looked down at the dog. Duke wagged his tail. "Bet ya saw them, didn't ya? Too bad ya cain't talk."

Duke raised his head, looked over at the puppy, then back at Roy. "Who says I can't talk?"

Roy's mouth dropped open in astonishment. He shook his head, as if to clear it. I must be asleep and dreaming, was his first thought. He looked at Duke again, and the dog winked at him.

"Ah...did ya just talk to me, Duke, or am I imagining it?"

"I talked. You're not crazy yet."

"I didn't know ya could talk! When did ya start talking?"

"Oh, I think it was when I was about a year old or so."

"Ya been talking that long and never told me?"

"Well, I didn't think it was something you needed to know."

"Not need to know!? Heck Duke, we coulda been talkin' up a storm all these years."

Duke's only response was another wink.

Just then, the puppy stirred, yawned and opened her eyes.

"So tell me, how'd ya get that pup to the cave?"

"It wasn't easy on three legs, let me tell you! I had to drag her. I think that trap weighed more than she does."

"How far did ya have to drag her?"

"I think it was a few miles. Seemed more like a few hundred, though. I had to keep stopping. Took me almost all day to get there."


“How can a dog measure miles? Dogs don't even know what a mile is.”

“From listening to you humans, of course. After hearing you say a mile here...two miles to go...I got the idea.”

"Did ya see who the poachers were?"

"Oh, yeah. I was watching them when she got caught in the trap. I got shot when I went to her rescue."

"Well, you did good, Duke. You saved her."

"It was the least I could do for my daughter."

"Your daughter!?"

"What, no congratulations? Yes, my daughter. Her mother lives over on the Nelson place. I have no idea what she was doing way over here alone."

"Don't tell me she talks too."

"Naw, not yet. She won't talk for another six months or so, if she talks at all."

Roy ran his hands through his hair, still finding it hard to believe that he was talking to his dog and the dog was talking back.

"Well, let's git down to business here. Who are the poachers? We gotta put a stop to this."

"They're outsiders...except for one."

"Oh? One of the locals is involved in this?"

Duke nodded his head. "Yep. Sleezy Jenks. Ya know who he is, don't ya?"

"Yeah, that old guy that sleeps in the stable in town for two bits a night. Does odd jobs for the townsfolk."

"That's the one."

"So, how many of them are there?"

"Five."

"Ya happen to hear where they're staying?"

"Naw, they didn't mention that. But they did talk about taking the pelts to Highland next Wednesday."

"Good going, Duke! Maybe we can catch them selling over there."

"Roy, I know I'm only a dog and all, but seems to me that ain't gonna work. How ya gonna prove where they got those skins from, eh? Ya gotta catch 'em trapping on your land."

"You're right, Duke. I don't know what the heck I was thinking."

"From what I've seen, Sleazy is always with them when they're trapping. Might be a good idea to go into town and watch him, then follow him when he leaves town. It'd be easier than searching 300 acres for them. He'll lead ya right back here to their trapping area."

"Gee Duke, you're really smart...for a dog." Roy scratched behind Duke's ears.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

***

The next day, Roy took one of his brothers to town with him.

"What we watchin' that old man fer?" his brother asked, getting bored.

"I think he has somethin' to do with the poachers."

"So what's watchin' 'im gonna do?"

"He might just lead us back to the farm and the other poachers."

"You gone loco? That thar old man don't eva leave town, far's I know."

"How would ya know? We ain't hardly eva in town."

After three hours of boredom for the boys, Sleazy crept around the stable leading a sorry excuse for a horse behind him. After looking up and down the street, he mounted and rode slowly out of town in the direction of the Calder farm.

"Told ya!" Roy said.

They had no trouble keeping up with Sleazy. The horse seemed to be on its last legs and was only capable of one speed: slow.

Sleazy turned to the left about a mile from town, cutting across fields of clover until he reached a dilapidated shack surrounded by pine trees at the edge of the woods. There were four horses tied outside.

This must be the rest of the poacher gang, Roy thought.

The boys hunkered down in the tall grass, watching. It wasn't long before the five men emerged from the shack and mounted up. Sleazy was hard put to keep up with their faster mounts. Once on Calder land, Roy sent his brother to get Pa while he kept an eye on the poachers.

"The heck ya say!" Pa said. "Ya followed them from town?"

"Yeah, Pa. Sleazy's one of 'em. C'mon, we gotta git 'em!"

Pa rounded up his other sons and headed out to find Roy and the poachers. By the time they arrived, the gang had already emptied several traps and Sleazy was busy skinning the animals. Everyone froze when Pa entered the clearing with his rifle raised. Then, some of them tried running for their horses. Pa fired a shot over their heads.

"Next shot will hit a target!" he shouted.

Again, they froze.

They had no weapons. Their rifles were on the horses.

"Roy, lead those horses out of range of these men."

Once the horses were far enough away, Pa ordered his sons to keep their rifles trained on the gang while he tied them up. In short order, Pa had them all securely restrained, the pelts bagged as evidence, along with the traps, and was marching them back to the farmhouse where he'd load them in a wagon and take them to town and the sheriff. His sons followed with the horses.

As the men were climbing into the wagon in the barn, Duke sprung up from the floor and viciously attacked Sleazy. Roy had trouble getting the dog off him.

"Duke! Ease up! Enough! Let him go!" He finally succeeded in hauling the dog off Sleazy.

"Teach ya to hurt animals, I guess," Roy muttered, taking Duke outside. Once outside and alone, Roy said to Duke, "What the heck got into you anyway?"

"I ain't sorry," Duke said. "That was payback for hurting my daughter. He's the one that set that trap she got caught in."

Roy nodded his head and hugged the dog. "It's all over now. She'll be safe and...how many kids ya got anyway?"

Duke chuckled. "Oh, I reckon about twenty or thirty by now."

Roy grinned as he watched the poachers being hauled off to jail. Life was certainly going to be different now with a dog that could talk. He couldn't wait to hear all the adventures Duke had experienced in the last four years...from a dog's point of view.

"I'll go over and tell Nelson his pup is here," Roy said, turning away.

***

“You say my pup is at your place?” asked a disbelieving Mr. Nelson.

“That's right. She got caught in a poacher's trap on our place. Doc says he can save the paw, but it won't be much good to her.”

Mr. Nelson shook his head. “Hard to believe she went that far.”

“I thought so too. Anyway, just wanted to let ya know where she is. She can stay with us until the paw is mended, if ya want.”

“Thanks. Much obliged,” he said, shaking Roy's hand.

***

“Duke? Where are you, boy?” Roy called entering the barn.

“Where the heck do ya think I am?” Duke answered from his bed in the corner. “It's not like I can run around in this splint, ya know. Attacking Sleazy nearly did me in.”

Roy laughed. “Teach ya to attack villains.”

“He had it coming.”

“Mr. Nelson said your daughter can stay here until her paw mends. What's her name anyway?”

“I call her Bonnie Lass. I don't know what they call her.”

“Ok, I'll call her Bonnie then.”

“Did you see her mother?”

“I'm not sure. There was a female hound on the ground a few feet away.”

“Was she black and white with a red collar?”

“Yeah.”

“That's her. She knows where her pup is then.”

“She does?”

“Sure! From listening to you two talk. If I know her, she'll be sneaking over here tonight.”

“How cozy, a family reunion. Should I set out extra dog food? Maybe a few bones?”

“Yeah, would you?”

Roy patted his head. “Oh, I guess I could do that for your family.”

Duke winked at him.

“Who's that you're talking to?” Pa asked coming in the barn.

“Just Duke.”

Pa looked around. “I couldn't sworn I heard another voice in here.”

“You must be going senile, Pa. Ain't no one here but me and the dogs.”

“I kin see that,” he muttered, putting the pail down.

Roy thought he heard a snicker from Duke.

“C'mon, we got to work on the fences,” Pa said, heading for the door.

***

“Dag-blast-it!” the poacher gang leader swore. “When they git caught?”

“About noon,” answered Jeb, who hadn't gone with the gang due to a broken toe. “Saw them hauled into town and locked up.”

“What rotten timing! I got an order for 200 skins due in three days. We still need 75 more! Know of any men wanting to work for us?”

Jeb scratched his head, thinking. “Not in this town, now. They all saw the gang brought in.”

“Then go to Creek Springs for 'em! I gotta tell ya everything?”

“Uh...sure, Boss. I'll leave now.”

“Good. Don't come back without at least six men.” He slammed his fist down on the table, causing Jeb to jump.

It took Jeb three hours to get to Creek Springs. He went right to the nearest saloon for a drink. It had been a long, hot, thirsty ride. He swore as he limped into the saloon, cursing his broken toe.

“What'll it be?” asked the saloon keeper.

“Whiskey.”

Jeb looked around the saloon. There were few men in here this time of day, but a group in the corner caught his attention. They were a rough looking lot, and seemed a bit too thin to Jeb. As he watched, he noticed them watering down the whiskey so it'd last longer.

Ok, they look down on their luck, Jeb thought. Maybe they'll be willing to do anything for a buck.

Jeb approached their table. “Howdy. I was wondering if you men would be interested in a job?”

An hour later, Jeb had his six men. After getting their gear, they met him in front of the saloon.

“Let's ride!” Jeb ordered.

***

“Pa, you sure these fences are gonna keep them out?” Roy asked.

“Roy, they're in jail.”

“Then why are we putting this up?”

“In case there's any more gets the idea to poach later. This will stop 'em.”

“I don't see how. They can just cut it.”

Pa pondered this awhile then said, “Good point. Maybe I shoulda thought of somethin' else.”

“Like what?”

Pa shook his head. “I don't know.”

“Maybe we could set some kinda alarm on the fence?” asked Roy.

“How the heck ya gonna do that, boy? There's gonna be 300 acres surrounded by this here fence!”

"Well, we could maybe run a wire through the fence and attach somethin' for an alarm to it at some point. Anyone cuts through the fence and that wire, at any point, and the alarm would sound.”

Pa took off his hat and wiped his brow. “Maybe that'd work, but what we gonna use for an alarm?”

“I don't know. Somethin' loud enough for us to hear from the house.”

“A shotgun blast,” Pa said. “Maybe we could rig it to some gunpowder....”

Roy nodded.

“Ok, I'll think on it. Meanwhile, let's get some more fencing up while there's still daylight. We only got a few more acres to go.”

***

The boss was explaining what he wanted the new men to do. Jeb was a little leery.

“Ya think it's wise to go back to Calder land?” he asked his boss.

“What do ya mean?”

“Well, the gang was caught there. Obviously they're watchin' for poachers.”

“Nah. They think the poachers are all locked up.” He laughed. “Besides, that's the place where the best skins are to be found.”

Jeb merely nodded, although he didn't agree. He figured only a fool would walk into a possible trap. For once, he was glad his toe was broken.

“So let me git this straight,” said a guy named Shuster. “We go onto Calder land and lay traps, then two days later we go back, collect the animals from the traps, kill 'em, skin 'em, bring the pelts back to you and...just leave the meat rotting away?”

“Yup, that's about it,” said the boss.

“How's about you let us take the meat?”

“Sure, do whatever ya want with the meat. I sure as hell don't want it.”

Shuster nodded, thinking of the extra money he could make selling the meat—after eating his fill, of course.

“Now, I want you boys to go out there tonight and lay the traps. I got a quota to meet in three days. We'll just meet the deadline, if all goes well.”

“How many traps we gotta lay?” asked Baldy, another new man.

“A hundred. That should about cover it in case some don't get an animal in them.”

“A HUNDRED!? You expect us to lay a hundred traps in one night?”

The boss gave him a cold look. “If ya expect to get paid when ya get back, yeah, I do.”

Baldy looked indignant.

“The best place,” Jeb told the men, “is to lay them near streams, or ponds. Catch a lot when they come down to drink.”

“Thanks,” Shuster said. “That helps narrow it down some.”

***

“Ok,” Pa was saying, “we're just about finished with the fence. Let Jed and Pesky finish it, and you and Nick get the wire and start running it through the fence, Rob--near the water areas for now. We can't do it all today. I'm going back to the barn to get some gunpowder and rig up a gismo that will set it off when the wire is cut. If ya hear a gunshot, that's just me testing it. We'll need more than one, since the whole fence won't be connected yet.”

“Ok, Pa. C'mon Nick, let's get that wire,” Roy said.

At the barn, Pa constructed a simple, but effective contraption to ignite the gunpowder. When the wire was cut, a small bar would be released sideways, scraping against upright matches embedded in the gunpowder and a small, thick block of wood. The spark from the matches would ignite the gunpowder.

Pa tested it with a small amount of gunpowder. He hoped the boys remembered not to be alarmed if they heard a gunshot from the house area. It worked perfectly. The fire fizzled out after a minute, just scorching the thick block of wood.

Pa made several more. After an hour, he gathered them all up and headed back to the boys. He was happy to see they had only two areas left to run the wire.

“Good,” he said, looking around. “Roy, you help me hook these up, and Nick, you and the others finish the wiring of the last two areas.”

Just as it was getting too dark to see, they finished with the alarms.

“Well, that should do it, for now,” Pa said.

“How we gonna know where the shot is coming from?” Nick asked.

“It's set so that three shots go off. We'll be able to pinpoint the direction of it,” Pa answered.

“I sure hope so,” Jed mumbled, as they headed for the house.

***

“What the hell is this?” Baldy snarled. “He didn't tell us there'd be barbed wired blocking our way.”

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Shuster growled. “Any of you got wire cutters with ya?”

“Nah,” came the replies.

“Maybe we kin dig some of it up,” suggested Baldy.

“Sure, if'n ya want to rip your hands to pieces,” answered Sly, another gang member.

Shuster shook his head in disgust. “One of us got to go back to town and get wire cutters then. This is gonna cost us some time.”

They all looked at one another, then Baldy finally said, “I'll go.”

They all hunkered down to wait for the wire cutters. A couple of them fell asleep in the tall grass. An hour later, Baldy was back.

“Ok, let's git on with this,” Shuster said.

Sly took the cutters and approached the fence. He had cut about halfway up when he snipped the trip wire. A loud gunshot went off to their left. Sly dropped the wire cutter and ran for his horse, the others running right behind him. They bolted onto the horses and rode like hell for town.

Pa jumped from his bed, struggled into his clothes, grabbed his gun and was out the door by the time the second shot rang out. His sons met him on the porch.

“South pasture,” Pa said, running to the barn and his horse. He didn't bother with a saddle, just threw a blanket on it and a halter. Time was important.

By the time they got to the pasture, the gang was long gone. They found the cut fence and wire cutters.

“Well, it scared them off if nothing else,” Pa said, pocketing the wire cutters for the sheriff.

“Guess we didn't get the whole gang last time, eh Pa?” Roy asked.

“Guess not, son.”

***

“Get all those traps laid already?' the boss asked as the men came charging in.

“Hell, no! Someone shot at us,” Sly informed him.

“Shot at you?” the boss asked.

“Yeah, as in with a gun. You didn't tell us the land was surrounded by barbed wire! We had to come back for wire cutters. Then, halfway through cutting the damn fence wire, the shot went off. We weren't about to git ourselves killed for a bunch of traps,” Shuster told him.

The boss looked totally disgusted. “Ok, just calm down a minute here. Let me think. We gotta get those traps laid tonight...one way or another.”

“How we gonna do that?”

“Were you making a lot of noise?”

“Nah.”

The boss stroked his chin, then ran his fingers through his bushy hair. “Well, you're gonna have to go back again. This time, pick another area to enter from. Which one is furthest from the farmhouse, Jeb?”

“The stream in the east sector.”

“Then that's where ya boys go. And ya don't gotta cut the whole fence from bottom to top, ya idiots! Just cut partway and crawl through the damn thing. Cut out a square section near the bottom, and crawl.”

“Ok, Boss.”

“And take yer guns!”

So the not-too-brave gang set out once more, armed with guns and wire cutters.

“I don't like this,” Baldy said. “What if they're patrolling now, since they seen us there already tonight?”

Sly nodded. “Makes me wonder if'n it's worth it.”

“Ok,” Shuster said, “this is the spot. Let's git this over with this time. They cut a square five feet wide and three feet high in the fence. It stopped short of the trip wire.

“Awright! Start crawling through,” Baldy said.

Just before dawn, all the traps were laid. They crawled back through the fence.

“Put the piece of fence back in place,” Shuster ordered. “That way they might not notice where we got in.”

“Good idea, Shuster,” Sly said. He fixed the fence nearly perfect, hooking the cut piece into the barbed wire of the rest of the fence.

“Got the wire cutters?” Baldy asked.

“Yah, got 'em.”

“Then let's git the hell outta here!” Shuster said, riding off.

***

“Ya say more poachers tried gettin' on your land last night?” the sheriff asked Pa.

Pa nodded. “But I rigged up an alarm on the fence. It set off a few gunshots, scared 'em off.”

“Looks like we don't have the whole gang then.”

“Looks like it. Can you git the ones you have to talk?” Pa asked.

“We'll see. Might not be easy.”

The sheriff had his deputy bring the prisoners in. They were tied and made to sit on the floor.

“Now boys, suppose you tell me who your leader is,” the sheriff said.

They laughed at him. One spit on the floor.

“It'll go easier on you if you tell me,” the sheriff insisted.

“How so?” asked one of them.

“Well, could be the judge will give ya less time to serve if ya co-operate with us.”

“How much less?' asked another.

“Well, depends on what ya tell us. Could be a lot less.”

The gang looked at one another, then back at the sheriff.

“Why don't ya think about it for a while. You decide to talk, let me know.” He had them brought back to their cell.

“Guess they're not talking,” Pa said.

“Let 'em think about it. They might decide to talk yet.”

***

Two nights later, the gang was back on Calder land, emptying the traps. Unlike the previous gang, this one took the animals with them before skinning them. They reset the traps, threw the dead animals across their saddles and hightailed it off Calder land. They stopped several miles away, set up a camp and skinned the animals. They cooked some of the meat and feasted on it before heading into town with the pelts. The rest of the meat they bagged and threw in their saddlebags to sell later.

“Ninety-seven...ninety-eight,” the boss finished counting. “You boys did good.” He counted out their pay and handed it to them.

“Thanks, Boss,” Shuster said.

“Now don't forget to empty those traps two nights from now,” the boss reminded them.

They nodded and left, heading for their beds.

***

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Pa said, looking at the trap hidden in the grass at his feet. The poachers had struck again. “Check the fence line,” Pa told Roy.

It wasn't long before he found the cut place. In their haste, the gang had put the cut piece back crooked. They set to work repairing that section of fence, then searched for the traps and removed them.

“Can you believe it?” Pa asked. “A hundred of the damn things!”

They unloaded them into the barn.

That night, Roy moved Duke to the house. He made a bed for him in the kitchen near the stove. Then he moved Bonnie in next to him.

“How's that, Duke?”

The dog looked around to make sure they were alone before answering. “Much better than that stinky barn.”

Roy chuckled. “Horses gettin' to ya?”

“Ya could say that.”

“Looks like we still got a poacher problem, Duke. They cut through the fence, and we found a hundred traps today.”

“A hundred? Are you serious?” the dog asked in amazement.

“Yeah...a hundred. Must be a big operation.”

“That's for sure. Where were they found?”

“In the east sector, all along the stream.”

“Maybe I should patrol the stream.”

“Are ya nuts? Ya can't walk on that leg!”

“So I'll walk on three legs.”

“What good will that do? By the time ya git back here it'll be too late. They'll be gone.”

“I could trip the wire for the gunpowder,” Duke suggested.

“I don't know, Duke. I think it has to be cut to work.”

“Maybe not. Maybe if I pull on it, the slack will set it off.”

“Well, it's worth a try, I reckon. Can't do any harm, that's fer sure. It'll either work or it won't.”

“Right. I'll go out tonight and prowl around.”

“I still don't like the idea of ya goin' out on that leg.”

“Oh, stow it, Roy. I dragged Bonnie Lass with this leg and it wasn't even set yet. It won't damage it any.”

***

The poachers managed to cut through the fence without Duke spotting them.

“What the hell!” Shuster hissed in a whisper. “Where's our traps?”

They checked all along the stream. Nothing.

“Looks like they found them, Shuster,” Baldy said.

“We shoulda known when that fence was fixed,” Sly commented.

“C'mon, might as well git outta here. The boss ain't gonna like this,” Shuster said.

They turned to head back to the fence when suddenly, a shot rang out. They ducked down in the grass. Another shot rang out.

“Run for it!” Sly shouted, already jumping up and bolting for the hole in the fence.

Five of them made it to their horses, galloping toward town. Duke had the sixth one gripped in his sharp teeth on the ground.

“Git off me, ya filthy cur!” the man yelled, hitting at the dog.

Duke hang on tenaciously, occasionally shaking his head, which caused the man to scream in agony.

Pa and the boys arrived on the scene. Duke still had his grip on the man. Roy ran over to him.

“Ease up, Duke,” he told the dog.

After seeing the guns trained on the man, Duke let go, but stood over him, growling.

Pa tied him up, then hauled him to his feet. Duke took a step forward.

“Keep that mutt away from me!” the man yelled.

“What's your name?” Pa asked.

“Billy Bob.”

“Billy Bob what?”

“Carlton.”

“Who's the ringleader of this gang?”

“I don't know.”

“You want me to sic the dog on ya agin?” Pa asked.

“Hal Merk.”

“The town barber?” asked Pa in astonishment.

“Yah, him.”

“Where you from?”

“Creek Springs.”

“Yer new to this gang?”

“Yah. We was hired a few weeks ago.”

“Ya never shoulda taken the job.”

“Yah, but we needed money. Hardly had money to feed ourselves.”

“Well, where yer going now, ya won't have to worry about eating. They'll feed ya,” Pa said, leading him to the horses.

Roy hung back with Duke. “Ya did good, Duke. I'm proud of ya.”

“Shoulda taken his leg off when I had the chance,” Duke grumbled in reply.

“Nah, better this way. If ya had taken it off, he wouldn't be able to do hard labor in prison.”

Duke nodded his head and trailed after Roy to his horse.

“Ya wanna ride up here with me?” Roy asked the dog.

“Ya think I'm a pansy now? I can walk home just fine.”

“Ok, I'll go slow so ya can keep up.”

Pa kept Billy Bob tied up in the barn with Duke guarding him that night. The next morning Roy and Pa took the prisoner to town.

The deputy put him in a cell and the sheriff said, “Did he talk?”

“He sure did. Didn't want Duke to attack him agin.” Pa chuckled, remembering.

“What'd he say?”

“The ringleader is Hal Merk...”

“Are you joshing me? A local man?”

Pa nodded. “Yah, our very own barber of all people. These new poachers were only hired a few weeks ago up in Creek Springs.”

“Is that right? He went three hours away to find a new gang?”

“So it seems.”

All the men are new and outsiders except the leader?”

“He did say on the way back to the farm that Jeb Sims was the one that hired them.”

“Our blacksmith,” the sheriff stated.

Again, Pa nodded.

The sheriff called his deputy over. “Go get Joe to come over here.”

While he was gone, the sheriff got his rifle from the rack, and checked that it was loaded. Then he got a coil of rope.

“Going to go git Hal and Jeb?” Roy asked.

“Yah.”

“By the way, the rest of the gang have a camp about a mile outside of town,” Pa said.

The sheriff nodded. “They kin wait fer now. First, we git these two.”

***

The boss had been ripping mad when he'd heard the news the night before. He had told the men to get back to their camp and lay low for a while. Now he stood in his barber shop wondering if Billy Bob had enough sense to keep his mouth shut.

He finally decided that once he finished this customer, he'd better get out of town himself for a while, just in case.

“There ya go, Sam,” Hal said, brushing the hair off the man's shoulders.

“Thanks, Hal. How mu...” Sam started to say when the door burst open.

“Hands up, Hal,” the sheriff said, leveling his gun at him. “Don't even try fer that gun, unless ya want to lose yer hand.”

Sam slid off the chair and scurried out of the shop.

“What's the meaning of this, Sheriff?” Hal asked, raising his hands.

“You're under arrest for operating a poacher's ring in this area.”

Hal laughed. “I ain't done no such thing.”

The sheriff's deputy tied Hal up.

“Yah, ya have.”

“Ya got the wrong man,” Hal insisted.

“I don't think so. We got witnesses says yer the one.”

“Who?”

“Billy Bob, for one. Let's go.”

"Who the hell is Billy Bob?” Hal asked.

Roy rolled his eyes at Pa as Hal was led out.

In half an hour Hal and Jeb were both locked up and the sheriff, his deputies, and Pa and Roy were headed for the camp.

The men were sleeping when the arrived, making the arrest easier since they were disorientated when awakened.

“Stand up and put your hands behind your backs,” ordered the sheriff.

They quickly complied after noticing five guns pointed at them. There was no way to reach a gun before one of them fired a shot.

“Well, that about wraps it up,” the sheriff said back at the jail. “We got 'em all this time. The circuit judge should be here next week.”

“Good. Now things can get back to normal around here,” Pa said, getting up and heading toward the door.

“Give that dog a nice juicy bone for nabbin' Billy Bob,” the sheriff said.

Roy grinned. “Best dog I ever had.”

The sheriff smiled and waved them through the door.

When they got home, Roy found Duke entertaining his...wife? He wasn't sure if wife was the right word for a dog's mate. She was nestled up against her pup, licking Bonnie's ear.

“Well, hello there,” Roy said to her.

“Hello. It's nice to meet you,” she said. “Thank you for caring for my daughter.”

Roy's mouth dropped open.

“Close your mouth. Ya look like an idiot,” Duke said. “I told ya she could talk too, didn't I?”

“Uh...did ya? I don't remember. Heck Duke, I'm just gittin' used to ya talkin', now there's two dogs talkin'. Takes some gittin' used to.”

Duke chuckled. “Ya'll git used to it in no time.”

“What's yer name?” Roy asked Duke's mate.

“They call me Ruby.”

“Well Ruby, it's a pleasure to meet ya.”

“Thank you. I hope you don't mind me visiting here.”

“Not at all. Come any time ya want. Maybe Mr. Nelson would consent to selling you and Bonnie. Would ya like to live here with Duke?”

Her eyes lit up and she looked at Duke. He nodded. “Yes, I would like that.”

“I'll talk to him. Are there any more pups at home?”

“No, Bonnie is the only one left. The rest were sold.”

As it turned out, Mr. Nelson agreed to sell them both. Roy now had a family of talking dogs. Bonnie, against Duke's prediction of a year, was already trying to say maw and pa. There certainly wouldn't be a dull moment in the future with these dogs around. Roy smiled, thinking how he might just teach them how to read next. He'd not only have talking dogs, but literate ones as well! Ah...the possibilities were endless. Some day he'd reveal their talents to the world....

The End