Patches Catches the Cattle Rustler

"Did I tell you the story about young John Stokerson, the kid who caught Rusty Dunan, the Sargo County cattle rustler?" Old Mr. Smith looked at the boy sitting next to him, and offered a piece of candy. Michael thanked Mr. Smith, and took a piece from the bag. Michael looked forward to Mr. Smith coming into town for supplies, because he always had an exciting story. His father, the store owner, tolerated Michael's idle time, under the condition that Michael would remember the story and use it to entertain his younger sisters after dinner.

"No, I suppose you haven't heard this one," Mr. Smith paused, looking at the dusty main street on the hot July afternoon. "Well. Young John worried his parents. John didn't talk at all until he was four, and even when he did start to talk, it wasn't much. But he could teach animals tricks. Story is that he trained the family chickens to line up outside the chicken coop when they heard a whistle, just like a squad of soldiers. John taught the cows to push straw out of their stalls when they heard "Sailor's Hornpipe". Imagine the cowbarn, John's younger Sister fiddling like she was at a barn dance, and the cows mooing and shuffling, pushing the straw into the center-walk like a bunch of trained circus-horses."

Old Mr. Smith and his stories were a special event, and word traveled fast. A small crowd of regulars appeared on the step, and even a passing cowboy and his dog took time to sit on the boardwalk and enjoy the story.

"But John's biggest accomplishment was Patches, the family Border Collie. Now granted, Border Collies are born with a third-grade education, and could write letters to their mama's if they had opposable thumbs. But John was no average kid, and Patches was no average dog. Between the two of them, they had a secret language. John could tug on his ear, and Patches would roll over and play dead. Anyone else in the family could tug on their ear, and Patches would just sit, tilting his head with that puzzled look dogs have. And that was only the start of it. Patches and John spent a lot of time on chores, and that dog could pretty much do anything John could do, short of chopping wood or milking a cow."

Old Mr. Smith pulled out another piece of hard candy, and passed the bag to Michael. Michael was feeling a bit guilty for consuming Mr. Smith's candy, as well as his story, so passed it on to the other members of the rapt audience.

"It was that special language between John and Patches that wound up saving John's bacon, and led to the capture of the Sargo County cattle rustler. In particular, John had taught that smart dog to do chores by number. All John had to do was raise one, two, three or four fingers, and the dog would run to do a job."

"The adventure happened after dinner one night, when a family friend galloped up to the porch, asking if John's Dad and Mom could help with birthing a calf. Just like now, a distressed cow was a pretty big deal. John's Dad and Mom left John in charge of his sister and headed out to the neighbor's ranch."

"What they didn't know was that Rusty Dunan was hiding behind their barn, trying to evade the local sheriff. His last rustle hadn't gone as planned and the Sheriff had captured the rest of his gang. Rusty had managed to get away, but knew he needed a place to hide out, and possibly some hostages if he was going to avoid dangling from the business end of a rope. Rusty watched the commotion at the house, saw John's Dad and Mom ride off with the neighbor, and hatched his plan. Sneaking up to the porch, he tied his horse, sneaked a look in the window, and burst into the cabin waving his six-shooters."

Old Mr. Smith paused, then loudly hollered "REACH FOR THE SKY!"

Everyone in the audience jumped at Old Mr. Smith's sudden dramatic outburst, then laughed at being taken in by the story. Even the dog had startled, but looked at the Cowboy and settled back down, issuing a big dog yawn. Old Mr. Smith continued with the story.

"John and his Sister knew better than to argue with the crazy-looking man in their kitchen, and did what they were told. Rusty grabbed himself a piece of bread from the stove and looked around the kitchen, chewed and thought '" not an easy combination of tasks for someone of Rusty's lack of smarts. Rusty told John and his sister that they were his hostages, and as soon as his folks returned, his parents were going to negotiate with the Sheriff for Rusty's safe passage. Otherwise, John and his sister were going to get hurt."

When Mr. Smith talked about Rusty, he used a funny, stupid-sounding voice that made everyone laugh. But everyone wondered what they would do if a crazy man with a gun bust into their kitchen.

"There they were. John and his sister sitting at the table. Crazy Rusty waving his gun and stuffing fresh-baked bread in his mouth. John knew that his Dad wasn't going to take this situation calmly, and that when he arrived there would probably be a fight. Quite likely, Rusty would use his gun, and that never ended well. John decided it was up to him to do something."

"Patches didn't normally like visitors, and had hidden under the porch to avoid Rusty. When things quieted down, Patches returned to his position by the door, watching the activity inside the cabin. John saw Patches, thought for a minute, and started to tell Rusty a story, just like I'm telling you a story."

Old Mr. Smith changed his voice so he sounded like a kid. "Mister," Old Mr. Smith pretended he was talking like John. "You should know that my folks went to fight off Indians that are raiding our farms. Could be that there are more Indians around here right now."

Old Mr. Smith winked an eye and switched back to his real voice and looked at the audience. "Now you know there aren't any Indians to speak of around here, or at least none that would be raiding farms. But Rusty didn't know that, and John was betting on Rusty's lack of schooling. As I hear it, Rusty nervously laughed at John and took another bite of bread, looking around for the butter. While Rusty was busy, John looked at Patches, and raised his first finger."

"Patches knew that one finger was a signal to take the horse to the barn. Quietly, that dog grabbed the reins of Rusty's horse and walked it to the barn, wrapping the reins around a tiebar just like he had been taught. When Patches returned to the back door, John lied to Rusty that the first thing raiding Indians do is steal horses, and that he might want to check to see if his mount was still there."

"Rusty looked out the door, and to his vast alarm, his horse had gone missing. Rusty, already scared by his recent encounter with the Sheriff, now figured he had Indians to worry about as well. He stopped eating bread and turned his attention to looking out the windows at the pitch-dark field, trying to find his horse. Then John raised two fingers, and Patches took off running."

"Two fingers meant that Patches was to go ring the old ship's bell at the end of the porch. Patches loved to ring that bell, grabbing the rope and tugging on it like a bulldog. Everyone within five miles figured there was a hot meal ready, but Rusty could only assume that bell signaled his impending doom, and tried to hide behind the door."

Old Mr. Smith changed his voice to sound like he was Young John Stokerson. "Mister, it's only a matter of time before there's people out on the porch. Your best plan might be to run out the back door before those Indians come in here!"

Old Mr. Smith paused, looking at the audience. "That's when John raised three fingers."

"Now, Patches did what he always did when John raised three fingers. He ran like a flash to the woodpile, grabbed a split piece of wood in his mouth, and tore back to the porch, where he dropped it by the door. Since John still had three fingers up, Patches went back for more. For all the world, it must have sounded like loud, steady footsteps outside the cabin - at least that's what Rusty probably assumed, and he headed like a frightened rabbit for the back door, trying to escape the band of bloodthirsty Indians about to burst through and steal his scalp."

"As the sounds of Rusty's footsteps faded in the distance, John got his father's rifle and sent off a warning shot. Between the dinner bell and the rifle shot, every neighbor wondered what the sam-blazes was going on, and was coming to find out. It was only a matter of time before someone tripped over Rusty, hiding in the bushes. They brought him back at gunpoint, made good use of some stout rope, and played cards until the Sheriff showed up and took his man into custody. Patches got himself an extra big dinner that evening, and everyone thought that John was one of the bravest and cleverest young men in the entire county."

The audience cheered and clapped, and Old Mr. Smith stood up. "Now I guess I'd best be heading back to the ranch. Got to lock up the chickens before that coyote shows up." Old Mr. Smith, and his audience, ambled off to their afternoon chores. Only Michael, the cowboy and his dog remained on the porch, thinking about the story.

"I wonder what Patches did when he saw four fingers?" said Michael.

"Do you think that story is true?" asked the cowboy.

"Well '" probably not," agreed Michael. "But it sure would be neat if it was."

"Well. Watch this," said the cowboy, who raised three fingers. Like a bullet, the dog took off around the back of the building, came back with a piece of split wood and dropped it at the cowboy's feet. Michael's mouth opened in amazement.

"Now," said the cowboy, "Watch THIS."

The cowboy raised four fingers, and when Michael told his sisters what happened next, they simply didn't believe him.