The Curse of the Incredible Priceless Corncob #7 Tapa blanda - 1998

Early Retirement From Hank the Cowdog #7: The Curse of the Incredible Priceless Corncob Pete the Barncat convinces Hank that a chewed-up corncob is worth a fortune. With his new status as a millionaire, Hank decides to quit his job as Head of Ranch Security and hit the road. And he does, singing a little song as he goes.

And now I'm rich, you bet I'm rich!
No more sleeping in the ditch, old pal, this dog is RICH!

The song said it all. With my fortune, I didn't need the dumb ranch anymore, or the people or the crushing responsibility or any of the rest of it. I was on my way to Easy Street.

I hadn't gone more than, oh, a quarter mile when I got the feeling that I was being followed. I glanced around and, sure enough, there was Little Drover behind me, huffing and puffing to catch up.

"Hi, Hank, where you going?"

"I'm going to a resort community where I can sit in the sun and enjoy my wealth."

"What a coincidence! That's where I'm going too."

"No! You can't go, period!" His head began to sink and he got that pitiful look in his eyes. "Unless you would consider going along as my valet."

All at once he was jumping up and down.

"Oh sure, Hank, that would be just fine! I don't know much about dancing but I can sure learn."

"All right. The main thing is, you have to follow orders and address me as 'Your Lordship.'"

"Sure. I can do that, Hank."

"Your Lordship."

"Oh, you can just call me Drover."

"That's what I said, you cretin."

"Oh. I thought you called me Your Lordship."

"No, that's what you call ME."

"I thought I called you Hank."

"You did, you nincompoop, but you're supposed to address me as Your Lordship."

"I thought that's what I said. What did I say?"

"When?"

"Right before you said what you said."

"What did I say?"

"You called me a cretin. What's a cretin?"

"Who cares what a cretin is?"

"Not me, I can tell you that."

"Then quit asking stupid questions! You're my valet and...by the way, what was that stuff you said about dancing?"

"Who me? I didn't...oh yeah, maybe I did..."

"Tell me."

"Okay. Well Hank..."

"Your Lordship."

"Just call me Drover."

"GET TO THE POINT ABOUT DANCING!"

"Well...I want to be your valet but I don't know much about dancing."

"All right, Drover, I give up. Tell me what being a valet has to do with dancing."

"I don't know. I've just heard about valet dancing..."

Suddenly I felt exhausted, as though I had been walking for ten days through quicksand.

"Never mind. Pick up my Priceless Corncob and let's get out of here."

It was a beautiful afternoon for a walk across the prairie. But little did we know what dangers lay ahead. If we had, then we would have known.

Will the Priceless Corncob bring Hank fame and fortune? What dangers lie ahead for Our Hero? Find out in Hank the Cowdog #7: The Curse of the Incredible Priceless Corncob (Copyright ?John R. Erickson).