Holmes on the Range Read Online Free PDF

in. “In fact, if anybody gets it in their head to track Hungry Bob thisaway, you warn ‘em to steer clear. With Bob prowlin’ about, we’ll be pretty quick on the trigger. Who’s to say who might end up with a bullet in ‘em?”
    Martin frowned and leaned back in his saddle.
    â€œWe know you have important work to do. We won’t keep you from it,” Perkins said, turning and heading toward the castle before he was even done talking. “Good day.”
    Martin’s frown turned into an outright scowl. Dusk wasn’t far off, and he’d probably been hoping for a hot meal and a bed for the night.
    â€œIt’s gonna take you at least four hours to make the next ranch,” Uly said. “You best set out
now
.” He pointed at the trail Martin had rode in on. “That way.”
    The lawman stared hard at McPherson a moment. Then he wheeled his horse and galloped off, taking with him any chance that we’d hear more news of the outside world that day.
    â€œAlright, no more gawkin’!” Uly barked. “Back to work!”
    Us Hornet’s Nesters turned away slowly, unable to tear our eyesfrom Martin as he rode off. The only exception was Old Red. He was staring in the opposite direction—toward the hills to the south.
    I knew exactly what he was thinking. It was the same thought that would weigh heavy on me during the long nights ahead.
    Somewhere out there was a monster straight out of my childhood nightmares. It was real. It was loose.
    And it was probably hungry.

Five
THE STAMPEDE
    Or, A Storm Blows In, and a Life Snuffs Out
    F or the next few weeks, every owl hooting and bunk board creaking was Hungry Bob on the hunt for a juicy cut of man steak. Tall John almost got himself shot on three different occasions creeping out to drown spiders in the middle of the night. We went to bed jumpy and woke up exhausted, and none of us had much energy for chores.
    But then Uly gave us something new to think about—the very orders we’d been hoping for. We were to start breaking horses for the roundup.
    We spent the next week getting thrown ass-over-hat busting broncs—and loving every minute of it. At night we dropped into our bunks scraped and sore, and the snores of soundly sleeping men once again rattled the walls.
    When we finally rode out looking for cattle, we saw that McPherson’s men had been up to something useful after all. They’d stocked a feeding camp with hay and cottonseed and moved a thousand head infrom the furthest pastures. We weren’t to see those far grasslands ourselves—Uly ordered us to stay within five miles of the castle. Just in case we might drift over the limit, either Spider or Boudreaux was on our heels at all times.
    But Old Red managed to unstick our escorts one day. Uly needed a windmill water pump fixed, and my brother stepped up to say he and I knew windmills like the back of our hands—which would have been true had our hands been something we saw only on occasion, and then from a distance.
    We wrestled with that wooden monstrosity for hours, slicking ourselves black with grease in the process. Fortunately, there was no audience on hand but thirsty cows, as Spider and the albino were off keeping watch on the other Hornet’s Nesters. Somehow we got that windmill pumping water, and after washing ourselves off and taking a good, long drink, we let the cows have a taste.
    I was feeling pretty pleased with our ingenuity as we headed back to HQ, but Old Red seemed absolutely downcast. He rode slow, leaning out away from his saddle, his head hanging low.
    â€œYou feelin’ faint?”
    â€œNo, I ain’t feelin’ faint,” Gustav growled. “I’m lookin’ for some-thin’.”
    â€œWhat kinda somethin’?”
    My brother stopped his horse and slid from the saddle.
    â€œThat kind,” he said, pointing at nothing in particular, far as I could see. He went