08 The Dud Ranch

The Dud Ranch Yippee-ki-yay! At last, they were out of the hot car. At last, they were at the Majestik— a forreal-and-absolute-positive dude ranch. "Hey, Judy," said Stink. "Let's pretend it's the O.K. Corral." "Okay," said Judy. "I'll be Doc Holliday and you can be Wyatt Twerp." "Hardee-har-har," said Stink. "Never mind. I'll be Wild Bill Hiccup and you can be Calamity Judy." Judy and Stink took one look around. All they saw was dust. Dust, dust, and more dust. And dirt. And mud. The smell of hay tickled Judy's

nose. Stink pointed to an old Conestoga wagon with a ripped-up canvas and busted wheels. Rusted trucks and tractors collected behind a falling- down silo. "Are you sure this is it?" He held up the brochure to compare. It showed a herd of horses running wild against a blue sky. "It sure doesn't look like the picture." "This is it!" said Grandma Lou, pointing to the sign over the entrance. But instead of the Majestik, all it said was MAJEST. "Ick," said Judy. "They forgot the I-K." "Not so majestic, is it?" said Grandma Lou. "I think maybe this place has seen better days." Hundreds of noisy black starlings and grackles lined fences, tree branches, and telephone wires, cawing and cackling up a storm. Stink covered his ears. "What is this, a

bird farm? It's so loud." "Who cares," said Judy, playing keepaway with a bad mood. "All that matters is that I get to ride a horse, right, Grandma Lou? Let's head to the stables." They walked under a giant M at the entrance to the ranch and down a dirt path, past a swimming pool that was green with leaves and gunk. "P.U. Hold your nose," said Stink. It was hot, and there were piles of horse poop everywhere. And where there was poop, there were flies. Tons of flies. Big fat horseflies buzzed Stink's head. Judy swatted one that landed in her hair. "You could make a million dollars as a

Pooper Scooper here," said Stink. "Here's the horse poop, but where are the horses?" Judy asked. "I don't see any horses." "And where are all the dudes?" Stink asked. "This is a dude ranch, right?" "They should call it a dud ranch," said Judy.

Grandma Lou couldn't help chuckling. "Look, kids, we don't have to stay—" "But we came to ride a horse," said Judy. "I can't leave until I ride a horse!" When they got to the stables, two cowhands in jeans, plaid shirts, and cowboy boots told Grandma Lou they'd take care of her young riders. "Okay, kiddos. Sounds like you're in good hands. I have to go pay at the office, but I'll be back to check on you." Grandma Lou headed for the office in the barn. "I'm Whip," said one of the cowhands. "Whip Watson. And my buddy here is Lash LaRue." "Whip and Lash?" said Judy. "Oh, whiplash! Get it, Stink? Together they are/they're WhipLash." "Smart kid," said Whip, pointing to his brain.

"Yeah, we, um, never heard that one before," said Lash. He and Whip exchanged a look. "So you want to ride, eh?" asked Whip. "We'll have you two in apple-pie order in no time." "You buckaroos got here just in time," said Lash. "We have two animals left that aren't out on the trail." He checked his clipboard. "Looks like Tumbleweed and Tamale are still