“To the Rescue Rangers!”, toasted Sheriff Rodger Sharptooth as he raised his thimble of sparkling cider high. All of the townsfolk of the animal community of the Black Rock area raised their thimbles high and echoed the toast heartily.

The Rangers, assembled around the Sheriff at the head of the table, saluted the toast and drank the remains of yet another beverage. The whole community had thrown yet another party in honor of the Rescue Rangers once the Sheriff had was told that Fat Cat had indeed been sentenced to life without parole in an A.P.F. prison. Apparently, the tabby’s criminal empire even had ties as far out west as New Mexico.

Monty and Tammy banged their thimbles on the extra-long picnic table and called out, “More cider over here! Thank you!” Local girls, recruited as waitresses, raced to and fro, eager to reward the heroes with roasted corn, veggie quesadillas, and sparkling cider.

A chorus of banging thimbles and whistles sounded all around. Obediently, Dale took Foxglove in his furry arms and kissed her passionately. The bat swooned in her chair and reveled in the emotions that plastered the silly grin that adorned her face.

Zipper laughed out loud at this sight. He munched on rotten lettuce and spoiled tomatoes for his meal, all the time secretly planning to encourage another round of banging and whistling.

Gadget laughed at everybody’s antics and finished eating another cheese-cherry tomato-spinach quesadilla. She then put her arm around her favorite ‘munk, only to feel him still motionless. Frowning, she looked over to Chip who was still moping. Oh, he was polite enough to eat and drink. But still, he wasn’t smiling.

The blonde inventor got a mischievous twinkle in her eye. She leaned in close to Chip’s head and blew a puff of air into his ear. Strangely, the chipmunk didn’t react to the intimate gesture. His ears didn’t shake. His tail didn’t quiver. His mouth didn’t smile.

She snorted in frustration, and then demanded, “Chip, what’s wrong with you?”

The detective turned away from her and mumbled, “Nothing.”

The blonde inventor crossed her arms and blurted, “Manure!”

Chip smiled wistfully at Gadget’s feeble attempt at swearing. He showed her his grin and said, “See? Nothing wrong.”

Gadget sighed and rubbed her forehead. She glared at him and complained, “Chip, you’ve been grumpy for the last couple of months. Why won’t you just loosen up and have fun with the rest of us? These people are sharing their food with us! The least you could do is have a good time in return.”

The chipmunk tugged his fedora thoughtfully and said, “I was having fun for the first week or so. After a few weeks, it gets old. I’m just not the party animal that Dale is.”

The inventor gritted her teeth and asked, “You mean you want to go back home? To look for more cases? To stir up trouble?” After a moment, she sarcastically asked, “You miss Fat Cat?”

Chip returned her glare and said, “Yes, I want to go home. Yes, I want to look for cases even if there are none. It keeps me sharp. No, I do not miss Fat Cat ordering executions for demonstrations of his power.” He stood up from the table and spat back venomously, “I’m perfectly aware of what percentage of the city hibernates in the winter and I’m perfectly aware of how little crime there is in the winter. What I don’t like is being useless.”

The leather-clad chipmunk stomped off from the table and back towards his cabin. Gadget just groaned in self-reproach and buried her face in her hands. Monty heard the verbal battle and patted his best mate’s little girl on the shoulder.

She mumbled out loud, “Way to go, Gadget. Make him feel worse, why don’t you?”

The rugged Aussie said gently, “Easy now, luv. Let Chip ‘ave his space tonight. Tomorrow, go apologize. He’ll fergiv’ ya.”

Gadget watched miserably as her ‘munk wandered off alone again. This wouldn’t be the first time they fought at some group event, resulting in him going to bed early and her feeling sorry for herself. She prayed that something would fix that chipmunk so he could enjoy himself like the rest of the animals at the dinner table.

The next day, the Rangers woke up late. They remembered the previous night with smiles on their faces. As they stretched their muscles, they contemplated the chores they would do before lunch.

The rodent community of Black Rock arose in the early nineties, right after some enterprising lizards figured out how to tap a human aquifer. The entire community sprung up around the unlimited fresh water sluiced down into a shaded valley. As a result, there was a bumper crop every growing season. Naturally, generosity and tourism followed. The tourists would either trade outside items for food and shelter or volunteer to help with local chores in exchange for room and board. It was sort of like living in a hotel where you do laundry for access to the pool.

Two mice, a fly, and a chipmunk assembled in the kitchen of the ranch they were residing in for duties. Monty and Zipper took to washing and drying the dishes from last night’s feast. Gadget took rugs outside to beat the dust out of them. Foxglove and Tammy went through the garden, ‘removing’ any insect infestation. This means Tammy picked the insects off the vegetables and Foxglove ate them. Dale baby-sat the owners’ kids to keep them occupied. Gadget looked around, finding the leftovers from the meal still sitting in the refuse bin.

She thought, He’s not here. Taking out the garbage is his chore, and he’s not here. Did he oversleep? Did he walk into the wrong ranch-house? Was he abducted by aliens? After a moment of fretting, she silently asked herself, Is he avoiding me?

Monty cried out, “Gadget! Watch what yer doin’!”

Gadget paused in mid-swing, realizing that her stick was merely a quarter-inch away from the face of a little mouse boy. His eye filled with tears as he cringed.

She looked and saw that the rug had been beaten right off the clothesline and exposed the boy who was using the rug as cover for ‘hide and seek’.

Dale ran over and pulled the boy away. He asked, “Gadget, why did you do that? Didn’t you see the rug fall away?”

The soft-hearted mouse collapsed onto her knees, crying. She muttered, “I-I’m s-s-s-sorry.” Her face was hidden by her paws, but everyone knew how upset she was.

Suddenly, Gadget bolted right for the bunkhouse. Dale ran after her, trying to keep up. Upon arriving at the bunkhouse, Gadget flung open the door to the double room shared by Chip and Dale. Chip wasn’t inside, but his bed looked slept in.

Dale put his paw supportively on her shoulder and said, “I’m sorry you two had a fight.”

Without turning around, Gadget asked, “You know him better than anyone, Dale. Where would he go?”

The red-nosed one shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know. If we were back in the city, he would go to the public library, A.P.F. headquarters, the human police station, city hall, then to the ice cream shop on Third Street, in that order. We’ve got nothing like that here. Don’t worry, he’ll be back. He always comes home for dinner.”

Meanwhile, Chip wasn’t anywhere near the ranch. He got up early to walk around in the pre-dawn. Sneaking past a sleeping Dale was easier than it sounded. Once outside, he had hailed a sparrow to carry him to a human ranch just outside of the valley.

Chip had spent much of the morning just being by himself. It wasn’t exciting, but at least there wasn’t anything to bother him. He kept a close eye on the sparrow in case it looked like he was going back.

Sitting on the side of a wooden corral, he overheard all of the local gossip from the cattle in the human ranch. It was the normal talk that cows share with each other. Which humans had the softest hands, where the tenderest patches of grasses were, and whose tail was slimmer than others. He was about to hail the sparrow for the return trip when he heard a couple of human ranch-hands grumbling to each other.

“Yeah Zeke, I tell ya this ranch is goin’ under.”

“Don’t y'get t'talkin' like that, Mitch. Maybe things'll turn around.”

“Turn around? Long as the cows keep vanishin’, the business'll vanish!”

“Maybe the sheriff'll find them rustlers and git them cows back.”

“The sheriff? Listen, I ain’t got nothin’ 'gainst the sheriff, but if’n he was gonna git anythin' back he'd ’a done it weeks ago.”

“Well, what’re we gonna do? What would you do if’n we lose our jobs?”

“I’ll jus’ have ta hire on at another ranch ‘round here. I can’t afford t'move.”

“Me, think I’ll be a computer programmer.”

Chip took his notebook and pencil stub out of his jacket pocket. He began scribbling notes furiously. I’ll have to stake out the place after dark. Maybe interview the animals around here. First, I need to arrange transportation back to the ranch and to have some on demand. Shoot, I need to take out the garbage or else I’ll get in bad with our hosts.

The detective whistled for the sparrow, and climbed aboard. He planned his activities for the next few days while he flew back. One thing he did not even consider is how to explain himself to the others.

Later, the rest of the Rangers were gathered around a large reinforced corral where Monty was riding a wild jackrabbit bareback. The Rangers, minus Gadget, were cheering him on enthusiastically.

Tammy cupped her paws around her snout and screamed, “You show that critter who’s in charge, Monty! I got a bottle'a cheese sauce ridin’ on your ridin’!”

Gadget was tugging on her headfur fretfully. She yelled, “Monty, be careful!!! If you fall, you could fracture your cranium or twist your neck to the point where you could pinch a motor neuron and then you’d be paralyzed and I’ll have to take care of you and we’ll be two members short all the time and I don’t think we’d as effective fighting crime that way!”

Mrs. Roughtail, a middle-aged mouse female who owned the ranch house, patted Gadget on the head and cooed, “He’ll be fine. Our neighbors don't never take these rodeos too seriously.”

On the other side of the corral, a group of similar jackrabbits cheered on their fellow. “Yeah, go on now Stormnose! Throw ‘em!”

Monty took off his flight cap and twirled it in the air above his head. “Yee-hoo! This is easier’n ridin’ co-pilot in tha Kangaroo Grand Kickboxing Tournaments back ‘ome!”

Dale chuckled and looked around. Not seeing whom he wished to see, he sighed and mused, It’s too bad Chip didn’t stick around to see this. I hope this is enough excitement for him! He snuggled up against Foxglove for some moral support, which she was only too happy to give.

Late the next night, just as the sun had set, Chip quietly opened the door to his shared room. He slipped in and then shut the door. As he turned around, he heard a familiar sound. CLICK!

The room filled with the soft white glow of one of Gadget’s battery-powered torches. The Rangers sat in various places around the room, all drilling him with suspicious glares.

Gadget spoke first, “Where were you the past couple of days? We missed you.”

Chip said, “Just around. I needed to go clear my head. Sorry for blowing up at you during the party.”

Monty asked, “You’ve been fuming all this toime? We’ve had some rip-snorter games an’ contests. You could’a won some of them.”

Chip replied, “I don’t care. I don’t like those kinds of diversions. I just wanted time to myself for a change.”

Tammy wrinkled her nose and said, “What? Do we stink or something? From the smell of you, I’d say you’ve been hanging around dairy farms.”

Dale sniffed, and then said, “Well, at least he didn’t fall in it. You been interviewing cows or something?”

When the black-nosed chipmunk glowered silently, Foxglove piped in, “Well, you’re all right now, right? We can get back to being a group again, right?”

Chip tugged his hat meaningfully in response.

Zipper clucked his tongue disapprovingly, sensing another argument.

Gadget scowled in annoyance and marched up to her ‘munk. She jabbed his chest with her finger and spouted indignantly, “Why are you snubbing us? Everyone from around here thinks you hate us or something. Last night there was barn dance, with square dancing and everything. I kept turning down males who just wanted to dance. I was waiting for you! Why can’t you just go along with us to have fun? Why do you have to ruin our vacation for yourself?”

Chip’s face tensed up with frustration with each passing sentence. Finally, he couldn’t take anymore. He slammed his hat to the ground and yelled back at Gadget, “You want to know why I skipped out on you? Huh? Do you? I HATE those things you’re doing! I don’t like to pig out at banquet after banquet! I don’t like jackrabbit rodeos! I don’t like barn dances!”

He then stepped up close and jabbed his finger right back at Gadget. “I’ve been doing all the things you guys like for almost three solid months now and I’m HOMESICK! This is the worst vacation I’ve ever been on and you’re going to get in my face because I just some time to myself! I regret ever coming along here with you guys! I’m ready to hitchhike back to the city park tomorrow morning myself! If it’s so lousy of me to skip a barn dance then maybe I should go home and find cases to solve by myself!”

The entire room, including Chip and Gadget, registered shock at the dual outburst. Both lovers backed off and sat heavily on the floor. Foxglove padded over and gave Chip a big, demure hug of support. Zipper flew over and mimicked the same thing with Gadget.

At length, Chip sobbed and said, “I’m sorry, Gadget. I know you’re having a ball on this vacation, but I’m stir-crazy. Vacations just aren’t supposed to last this long. I keep worrying about the city and the A.P.F. and the Siamese Cats. I didn’t mean to wreck everyone’s good time.”

Gadget crawled over to Chip, sniffling all the way. Zipper and Foxglove made way for her. Wrapping her arms around Chip, she held him tighter than she ever did before.

She sobbed, “I’m so sorry for ruining your vacation. I should have known better than to spend the entire hibernation season away from home. I just thought that you’d like a break from saving the city every other weekend. I’m sorry for dragging you all around the old west for so long.”

The tension in the room drained as Gadget nuzzled up against Chip for a while. At length, Tammy asked, “Well, what do we do now? I mean maybe we should take it easy for a couple of days.”

Chip chuckled and said, “I know you guys don’t want to hear this, but I think I found us a case.”

The others groaned and Dale whined, “Aw, do we hafta? It’s our vacation!”

Zipper squeaked and pantomimed a long series of statements. Monty nodded, and then twirled his moustache. He ruminated, “Yeah, you may have a point, Zipper me lad.”

Foxglove asked, “You mean some of us help Chip with his mystery and the others can vacation some more?”

Tammy nodded in agreement, “That doesn’t sound too bad. Chip?”

Chip gazed at his love, who was looking expectantly up at him. He said carefully, “I’ll let each make their own choice. I could use the help, but right now it’s just gathering information. Lots of cattle from the human ranch over to the east have been disappearing. If more cattle vanish, then the ranch will go out of business.”

Dale stated, holding Foxglove’s wing, “Well, if it’s all the same to everyone, I’d like to go river gliding with Foxy some more.” The kindly bat kissed his cheek in approval.

Monty cracked his knuckles and said, “Well, I ain’t had me an adventure in ages. I’m in, Chip.”

Zipper flew over to perch on Monty’s shoulder and buzzed his inclusion.

Tammy said, “I’m going to hang around here and see if there’s any more excitement. Besides, I can be a reserve.”

Gadget sighed and cuddled up to Chip. She acquiesced, “Well, I have to go and make sure you’re out of trouble.”

Chip kissed her on the nose, evoking a slight smile from his favorite mouse. He explained, “We’ll leave in the morning. I’ve been asking for more some of my food in seeds to pay the local family of sparrows to fly me back and forth. I’d like to talk to the remaining cows some more. Even if we don’t owe anything to that human ranch, I’d feel terrible if I just let them go bankrupt if I could have helped them.”

The next day, all of the Rangers got up early and performed their chores for the day. Once they were done, Mrs. Roughtail was just getting up. Chip met her with a steaming cup of tea as she entered the kitchen.

When Chip asked if they could do some chores for the next few days so they can go on a trip, Mrs. Roughtail just said, “Well, landsakes! If’n you youngsters want ta go a travelin’ few a few days, go right ahead! I’ll keep your bunks empty for you.”

After doubling up on their chores by scrubbing the floors and washing the windows, the Rangers split up. Chip, Gadget, Monty, and Zipper took the Rangerwing towards the farm. Dale and Foxglove went gliding towards the north end of the valley, hoping to find either a river or the aqueduct. Tammy hung around town, chatting with the various workers for local gossip.

Around midday, Chip and Gadget had interviewed all the cows in the corral. The detective closed his notebook and said, “So what you’re saying is you didn’t actually see the other cows leave, did you?”

The cow, Jenny-Bell by name, complained, “Well, if you put it that way, then no I didn’t, but who cares? They's here one night an' gone the next mornin'. How else could it've happened?”

Gadget, unconsciously solving the logic problems in her head as they appeared, automatically starting explaining. “Well, they could have walked away or ran away or sleepwalked away or sleepran away or wandered off from boredom or wandered off from hunger or wandered off from thirst…”

Chip put his hand firmly on her shoulder, using his new signal to politely inform Gadget that she was rambling again. She quieted down, grateful for the opportunity to stop herself instead of being embarrassed in front of strangers.

Jenny-Bell huffed, “'Course Agnes just ran away. She owed me two wildflowers after losin' the bet about the dog’s fleas. No other reason she’d ever wander off. Couldn’t pay up and admit I's right, the selfish little bossy.”

Chip spied Monty out of the corner of his eye. Monty was waving them over. The chipmunk tipped his hat to the cow and said, “Well, we better get looking for her. We’ll let you know if we find anything.”

The chipmunk and mouse ran over to meet up with the burly Aussie and the speedy fly. Zipper was sniffing at a set of old tracks that have been mostly blown over by the wind and sand.

Monty stated, “Thanks to me keen trackin’ sense and Zipper’s sharp nose for, um…‘animal signs’, we found where the cows went. They just walked out of the corral and wandered into the desert this’a’way.” He pointed along a faint trail that led into the shifting sand, towards a set of canyons.

Gadget blanched, trying not to be disgusted at what Zipper was tracking, and asked, “How long ago did they pass by?”

The noble fly sniffed a few more times and began to buzz and gesture a long set of statements. First he counted off a single number, then five times, and then twelve times.

Chip took it all in while measuring the space between identical sets of tracks. He murmured, “Relaxed pace. Even tread. Last night, then five nights ago, and twelve nights ago. The original tracks were only two cows, the one five nights ago was four cows. Last night was ten more.”

Gadget’s brain did a quick calculation and spat back an answer before she could utter the word ‘golly’. “Golly! Using a simple polynomial equation, I estimate that tomorrow night, another seventeen cows will disappear! Give or take a cow, of course.”

Without looking away from the tracks, Chip asked, “Zipper, does it look like the cows opened the corral gate by themselves?”

Zipper flew up to inspect the simple, but sturdy, latch that kept the animals penned in. It looked clean and strong. A little wear and tear, but nothing that looked like the cows had been kicking at it or getting some other animal with horns to scrape it open. He flew down and communicated this to his leader.

Chip scratched his head and said, “Well, that only leaves humans. I guess that it’s cattle rustlers. They come in from the desert, unlatch the corral, and then lead cows away using bait that the cows like to eat.”

The blonde mouse dropped to all fours and ran off. Over her shoulder, she called to the others, “I’ll be back with the Rangerwing. We should find those cows in plenty of time that way!”

Dale concentrated on feeling the wind currents. His very life depended on him being able to figure out where the uplifting thermal currents were. Of course, it was hard to keep his full attention on such trivial matters as life and death when he was gazing at Foxglove’s beautiful tail in front of him.

His glider suddenly dropped several dozen feet in altitude. Yelping loudly, he pushed forward on the control bar. Since he was tied around the waist by a strong tether to the center of the glider, this means that the tether was the center of mass for the glider. When he pushed the bar forward, the nose tilted up and the tail tilted downward. Combined with his forward motion, the air flow patterns around the glider moved faster over the top than the bottom. This lessened the pressure on the top while increasing it on the bottom. The size of the glider, easily multiple chipmunks in size, caught enough of this upward pressure to more than exceed the downward force exerted on Dale by gravity. Thus, the glider lifted upwards, away from the ground.

Foxglove heard the yelp and looked back to see her cutie temporarily nosedive again. Was he trying to show off? He’ll get killed at this rate. She slowed down to match Dale’s flight pattern. Her echolocation scanned his body. His heart rate was coming down from triple its normal rate and his breathing was fast and shallow.

She asked, “Dale, are you all right? You need a break?” Her voice was laden with concern. Maybe he was having a heart attack! She wished she listened more carefully to Tammy’s training on scanning medical emergencies.

Dale called over, “Yeah! Uh, I’m all right. I better not do that again.” This time, he decided to actually pay attention to flying. He scanned the ground, looking for cliffs that looked like they may face the sun.

He said, “Hey Foxy! Lookie at all them canyons! Would it be fun to play ‘tag’ in them?” He flexed his wrists, eager for some aerobatic games with his love.

Foxglove scanned the canyons and shook her head. “No, Dale! They’re too narrow for your stall speed! You’ll be dashed against the rocks and get hurt. Besides, that one looks like some animals have dug out homes in the sides of one of them. Maybe that area is owned by someone.”

Disappointed, the red-nosed one silently agreed and turned back towards the animal community. He didn’t mind playing risky games, but he drew the line at crashing into someone else’s home. That might break someone’s stuff and a real male never breaks someone else’s stuff, only his own.

Tammy inconspicuously shifted the fit on her jeans a tad, making them more comfortable. She then leaned over the rail to gaze at the muscular rock squirrel who was lifting bales of straw onto a rodent-sized carrier. Not having feed animals of their own, the rodents who owned the ranches nevertheless gathered, cut, and tied up bales of straw like their human inspirations. It taught them respect for the land in how everything had a useful purpose. It also served as padding for when you fell or got thrown onto the floor. Shaped right, it was a passable recliner to invite a gal to smooch on.

The rock squirrel unconsciously flexed his muscles a little more than necessary and threw the next bale onto the flatbed. He wiped the perspiration from his brow and winked at Tammy, hoping to impress her.

Tammy winked back at him and smiled. She asked, “Yup, I’m all alone here today. The others decided to take a ‘personal day’ from the group vacation. I’m looking for something to do ‘round here by myself.”

The rock squirrel, named Daniel, gallantly offered, “Well, I’d be right honored if'n you'd be my date for Picnic Day tomorrow”.

Tammy was confused and her face showed it. “Picnic Day? What’s that?”

Daniel leaned on the rail, placing his face close to hers. He said sweetly, “It’s a heap 'a fun. The entire town packs up fer the day an' moves on over t' that ole aqueduct past the ridge. We jus' go an' spend the whole dang day there! There’s a lotta food and games, an' a few secret places where couples can court an' carry on.” Daniel winked at her again, hoping to make her swoon.

The red-haired squirrel thought for a moment, then asked with concern, “The whole town? I mean that sounds great, but who’s watching the town while you’re gone? Won’t someone break in while the whole town’s away?”

The rock squirrel replied, “Oh, there’s usually somefolks stirrin' up a rukus while we’re away, but nothing t'fret over. We can fix it in a couple of hours. What do you say, wanna go with me? I promise to be a gentleman.”

Tammy smiled and said, “Well, maybe… Let me think about it first, okay?” As she walked away, Daniel looked her up and down. Tammy could feel his gaze upon her. She couldn’t make up her mind if it creeped her out or thrilled her. She decided on both.

Monty bellowed out, “Five degrees ta starboard, luv!” He had his goggles down and was leaning out of the side of the fuselage of the Rangerwing, staring at the tracks.

Gadget obediently, pressed the right rudder pedal slightly. In response, the controls in the Rangerwing pushed the vertical stabilizer to the right. This induced a gentle yaw motion to the right, following the pilot’s command.

Soon, Monty cried out, “Hold it! The tracks end!”

Gadget pulled back on the control stick and reduced throttle. She activated the control to shift the Rangerwing into hover mode and settled down upon the sand next to the tracks. Chip and Monty jumped out to examine the indentations.

The sand was the same color as the canyon rock walls. The bright, reddish-orange stone walls seemed to rise up into the air for hundreds of feet before terminating in a flat top. The walls were jagged, perfect for climbing, but dangerous for falling upon. It was never known why wind and water would ever work together to carve out such structures. Places like this seemed to offer shelter from the sun, but only in the morning or evening, when the sun was not high in the sky. At midday, it was said that the canyon walls trap enough heat to make the canyon hotter than an oven. The random skeletons littered about seemed to silently agree with that observation.

Gadget looked around, pulling her goggles up to uncover her eyes. She couldn’t see any place where cows might move that wouldn’t leave more tracks.

The rugged Aussie reported, “It’s them, all roight. Same tracks, same pattern. They just…stop. Why would they stop roight ‘ere?” He looked around himself and mentioned softly, “I don’ see any bones.”

Chip shook his head, answering, “They didn’t die here, Monty. They just disappeared. They didn’t go forward or backward. They didn’t hop left or right. What I don’t understand is ‘why’. Humans opened the latch, so humans led them here. There would be blood and gore if the cows were butchered, but there’s nothing here. If they were loaded into a truck, there would be tracks and exhaust fumes clinging to the sand.”

After a moment of contemplation, Chip tugged his hat downward and ordered, “Zipper, go scout the canyon walls. Tell me if there’s any hinges or seams.” The brave fly saluted, and then sped off.

Monty asked, “Whatcha thinkin’, mate? You really think there’s some secret passage ‘round here?”

The leather-clad ‘munk replied testily, “No, but stranger things have happened. Besides, I want to nail down anything that can’t happen so I can stop thinking about it.”

Zipper returned after a few minutes, buzzing and squeaking firmly in the negative. Chip hopped in the Rangerwing and said, “Let’s get back to the ranch. I don’t think we can do anything else for now. I need to think about this.”

The others climbed aboard the plane and Gadget took off. She hovered up to about a dozen feet, and then activated the controls to switch to flight mode. Four confused Rangers contemplated the classic problem promoted by stage magicians for decades. How do you make something huge and heavy vanish without a trace?

As Sheriff Sharptooth walked around town on his patrol, he made sure to remind everyone, “Mind now, tomorrow's Picnic Day! Be sure to pack enough food t'last ya til sundown. See y'all there!”

A pair of shadows enveloped him from overhead. He looked up to see a bat and a chipmunk with a glider flying overhead, heading back for the ranch they were staying at. He lifted his hat and scratched himself behind the ears, right where he always seemed to itch abut midday. He couldn’t understand these kids and their attitudes. Why bother tryin’ to fly? Nature gave us legs, so we should walk and run. Isn’t that enough?

He kept walking on, deciding not to dwell too long on the subject. He passed by the red-haired squirrel on her way back to the ranch as well. He smiled to her as he tipped his hat. She didn’t seem to notice. Rodger frowned again. Now they don’t even acknowledge good manners anymore. The world is doomed.

The sound of whirring motors caught his ears as the flying machine that brought the Rangers into town settled over a bare patch of land near the ranch-house. Sheriff Sharptooth mentally traced back the flight path to whence it came. His frowned deepened into a snarl as he realized that they were near the cliff village. Furiously, he tugged on his hat and stomped off towards the Roughtail Ranch.

The Rangers all met near the portside wing of the aircraft as Gadget shut down the engines. They gathered in a circle like they would at headquarters when they were going to get briefed for a case.

Chip asked, “Did everybody have a good time today?”

Dale boasted, “Yup, I even invented a few maneuvers.”

Foxglove countered, “You almost got killed! If I weren’t your girlfriend, I’d bonk you!” The others chuckled at this.

Tammy mentioned, “Chipper, have you ever heard of ‘Picnic Day’?” Upon seeing everyone’s look of confusion, she explained, “Apparently, the whole town up and leaves tomorrow for the aqueduct. They stay there all day for a mass picnic. Maybe I’m just paranoid, but they didn’t seem upset at leaving their homes unguarded for the day.”

Chip scratched his head and asked in confusion, “Even the Sheriff?” Tammy nodded her head. He continued, “That is strange. I wonder what caused this. It sounds like some strange event caused a mass exodus in the past and they’re commemorating it. Weird.”

Zipper squeaked, buzzed, and pantomimed a long series of statements for the benefit of those who did not go out to the cattle ranch.

At the end of the explanation, Dale asked, “Really? They just disappeared? Zowie, that’s just like the movie I saw where the man’s garage had a wrinkle in the space-time continuum so every time he drove home, he got out of his car in a bombed-out ruin from a nuclear war. Every time he left for work, the world was normal again.”

Sheriff Sharptooth stomped up to the assembled Rangers in a fine temper. He barked out, “What do y'all tinhorns think yer doin’?”

Puzzled, Gadget asked, “What’s wrong, Sheriff?”

He kept shouting, “Did y'all come flyin' in from the northeast in that iron contraption?”

Gadget’s fur prickled up and she lowered her voice an octave to show her displeasure. “The ‘Rangerwing’ did just fly in from the northeast. We flew from the canyons straight here. Why, is that a problem?”

The Sheriff glared at everyone, saying, “You’re lucky that them natives didn’t send one 'a their council over here t' complain. You can’t fly over that land. It’s their sover-eign territory. In fact, we give 'em their territory includin' the human cattle ranch over the east a ways. I know y'all’ve been over there, snoopin’ around. Don't. I don’t want no trouble ‘round here. Now stay in town for the rest of yer vacation. In fact, I'm orderin' ever' last one 'a you t' show up to the picnic we’re havin’ tomorrow by the bend in the aqueduct. Now stay outta trouble.”

Chip silently tipped his hat to the Sheriff, who wandered off back into town.

Monty asked rhetorically, “Now who stepped on his tail?”

Foxglove said, “He certainly could have been nicer about it. I mean, it was just a mistake, right?”

Tammy looked to her leader and asked, “Chip, am I right to be suspicious about this whole ‘Picnic Day’ affair?”

Without looking back at her, Chip replied, “Right on the money, Tammy. Something is definitely not right about Picnic Day. We just have to find out what it is.”

Gadget added, “Chip, I went over the flight plan for our entire trip out west. The rodent division of the F.A.A. certified that the reservation has not restricted airspace in any capacity. That’s also the same flight path we took into town here when we arrived. Also, I know the map of the area. The reservation does not extend near the human cattle ranch. The Sheriff is lying.”

The fedora-wearing chipmunk spoke, “Well, we’re just going to have to go to Picnic Day and ask around, unless, of course, we can figure out the cause of this strange day this afternoon. I really need to find out why everyone in town leaves, including the Sheriff.”

As the Sheriff swaggered away, a beaver matron ran out from the trading post, looking for someone. As she spied the Sheriff, she ran over to him crying, “Landsakes, there ye are! Sheriff, ya gotta help me!”

Sharptooth smiled widely and replied, “What c'n I do for ya, Mrs. Bluetail?”

The beaver female wailed, “It’s my little Terrica! She went out to play this morning an’ now I cain’t find hide nor hair of 'er! She always comes when I holler, always!”

The Sheriff patted the sobbing beaver on her elbow and said soothingly, “Now, now, calm down, June. You know well as I do that kids'll be kids. I’ll go t'lookin' for her right away. Now you just go on home and fix yourself up some tea. There’s a good girl.”

The female was inconsolable, but she obeyed. The Rangers all felt a tug at their heartstrings. A missing child was a terrifying thing, indeed. The Rangers all looked to Chip for his decision. The stern chipmunk tugged on his hat and walked off, following the beaver female.

He said, “Everybody split up and search the town. If you find her, return her to the Sheriff. If not, meet us back here at the ‘Wing. Gadget, you’re with me.” The Rangers ran off in all directions as if on a mission.

After a couple of minutes of following their quarry, the pair of Rangers followed the beaver matron to her home, a large, multi-room stick house near the outlet of the aqueduct. Several other houses dotted the length of straight concrete half-pipe that sluiced fresh, clean water to the animal community twenty-four hours a day.

Chip and Gadget caught up to the beaver as she reached her front door. The detective tapped her on her shoulder. As she turned around, Chip tugged his hat and greeted her.

“Afternoon, ma’am. I couldn’t help but overhear your troubles. Can we help in any way?” Mrs. Bluetail sobbed, once…twice…then bawled out loud uncontrollably.

Gadget stepped forward and grabbed her paw tenderly and patted it. She cooed, “There, there, ma’am. We’ll help. Can you tell us about her?”

The beaver female sniffed, and then opened the door. She admitted the pair of Rangers, who marveled at the ingenuity of beavers. From scraps of native trees, sticks, and debris washed in from the aqueduct, the beavers had fashioned a table, four chairs, and a hearth.

As Gadget sat in a chair, approving of the solid construction, Chip glanced around the room. He saw that there were no paintings or artwork of any kind. There were scratches in one wall, next to the door. Those must have measured the height of the children as they grew up, Chip mused.

The beaver came out with a tray scraped from a flat stone, a teapot beaten from a sheet of brass, and three cups made from half-pebbles. Gadget examined the cups, seeing the very fine scratches made by grinding in insides down with harder tools. This was a ton of work for a manual process. The cup’s surface is so smooth. I guess this family really prides itself on its craftsmanship. Gadget smiled as the beaver she sat herself down heavily, too upset to pour the tea.

Chip asked, “Could you describe your daughter, please? It would really help.”

Mrs. Bluetail sobbed, wiping the tears from her face as she cried. “Sh-she was half my size thereabouts, sir. Real slender for a beaver and her father’s dark fur colorin’, Nature rest his soul. She wa'tnt never no trouble a'tall. She loved t'play in the aqueduct and go explorin’ ‘round here.”

The blonde inventor poured a cup of tea, and then passed it to the distraught mother. She asked, “May we look around? Maybe we could get an idea of where she’d go.” Upon seeing the beaver’s nod of approval, Chip walked around the home. Passing through the kitchen, he saw openings toward two bedrooms. Taking in the smaller of the two, Chip examined it with the trained eye of a detective.

Scorpion shells were tied to the walls with strands of twine. Several geodes of various colors of quartz lined the pile of straw and cloth scraps. In the middle of the wall standing opposite to the bed, there was a small shelf with a shiny, yellow nugget of metal. Curious, Chip took down the nugget and looked carefully at it. There was an odd-shaped dent in the nugget.

He brought it into the main room, where his favorite mouse was calming the mother as best as she could. “Golly, I never had that many friends growing up. Maybe we should ask them for help. They must know where she’d go if she were lost.”

The matron wailed, “I already done that, child! Do you think I’d be runnin’ ‘round town if anybody knew where she was?”

The fedora-clad detective help up the shiny metal and asked, “What is this?”

Mrs. Bluetail waved him off, saying, “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. It ain't gold. Just an ol' lump of pyrite my girl found, layin' ‘round someplace yonder.”

However, Gadget was examining the lump of metal very closely. She eyeballed the dent and compared it against the size and shape of one of the front teeth of the beaver. She seemed to judge its weight by lifting it up and lowering it down with her hand and staring at it. Finally, she bit into the metal with her own front teeth.

The mother griped, “What’re you doin’, child? Ye’ll ruin yer teeth that way.”

Gadget pointed at the metal where she bit. A new mouse-tooth-sized dent appeared. Chip looked up with a hopeful glance at Gadget, who nodded in return. Chip returned the nugget to its shelf while Gadget said, “Thanks, Mrs. Bluetail. We’ll get to work right away.”

The two Rangers left the house quickly, heading for the center of town. Chip asked, “Can we even be certain that there’s any places like that left?”

Gadget replied, “The terrain seems to have a positive match for the kind of mineral we’re looking for. There’s always some left over if you’re looking in the right places. Hopefully, the Town Records will be in City Hall.”

A couple of hours later, Chip and Gadget raced back towards the Rangerwing, where the others stood around with faces downcast. Dale reported, “We found nothin’. Not even the other kids know where she is.”

Chip smiled and proclaimed, “We think we found her.”

The others gasped at the proclamation. Tammy asked, “How did you figure it out? Was McDugell right when he said that you have mystical powers?”

Zipper landed on Chip’s hat and put his hands over his face, masking his nose and mouth. He buzzed in low tones, making everyone laugh out loud.

Gadget explained, “We found a lump of pyrite in the beaver’s bedroom. Only, it wasn’t pyrite. It’s actual gold! She’s the adventurous type, so we figure she went into an abandoned mine. She was probably playing where the adults told her not to play and found some gold. When she discovered it, she probably went back, hoping to get a lot of gold for her mother.”

Monty wiped a tear from his moustache and mumbled, “Lookin’ out fer her ma, she was. What a brave, little Sheila. We gotta get ‘er back, roight Chip?”

Chip tugged his hat, agreeing, “Right! We consulted the town records and found an abandoned human gold mine that was last active fifty years ago. It’s condemned and big enough to actually find stray nuggets if you explore deep enough. Now, if you were an adventurous kid, lookin’ for lots of treasure, where would you go?”

The group looked at the spot circled on Gadget’s map, and then gave a high-five, “Rescue Rangers, away!” The Rangers piled into the Rangerwing, Foxglove and Zipper deciding to fly over to the mine. Gadget slid the throttle all the way forward and pressed the right foot pedal. The Rangerwing took off quickly, turning right along the aqueduct.

In the passenger seat up front, Chip read the map carefully. He called out, “Fly a hundred yards upstream and look for a small cave!” The other Rangers watched the ground carefully.

After a few minutes, Gadget called out, “We’re about a hundred yards now!”

Monty pointed down and bellowed, “There it is! That little trickle feeds into the aqueduct during the spring!”

The small cave was really tiny to a human. It was only two feet tall, but to a small animal, it was easily accessible. A feeble stream of water flowed out, soaking the ground in front of the concrete pipe. Little flecks of shiny, yellow metal dotted the wet sand. The Rangerwing set down next to the entrance to the cave and everyone assembled by the trickle.

Gadget pointed inside and said, “The human entrance to this cavern is about three hundred yards to the north from here in the hills. The mine was closed down over fifty years ago because the humans couldn’t find anything more than grains of gold, but I’ll bet my wrench that they didn’t search in here.”

Monty cracked his knuckles and proclaimed, “Well, what’re we waitin’ for? Let’s get that little beaver back ‘ome!” He tried to stomp off powerfully into the open mouth of the cave.

Tammy gripped Monty on the shoulder and pulled him back. She cautioned, “Careful! Even if the tunnels were reinforced by wooden timbers, they must have rotted by now! There could be a collapse any minute! Foxy! Fly in there and tell us if you can hear the child!”

The kind-hearted bat saluted in mid-flap and dove into the dark tunnel. Dale’s ears laid flat on his head as he began to grip his headfur tightly.

He complained, “Are you sure she should be goin’ in there? I mean maybe it’ll collapse on her!”

Gadget patted Dale on his shoulder and calmed him, “It’s still stone walls, Dale. They won’t collapse under her wingbeats.” The red-nosed one sighed and smiled serenely. Unfortunately, Gadget just had to be completely accurate with her explanation.

“Of course, that would depend on the exact thickness of the walls and ceiling as well as the chemical composition of the stone in question which reminds me if there’s been any recent seismic activity to destabilize the entire underground cavern system and whether or not the crystals of the stone underground were formed properly during the Pre-Cambrian period which might not lead to sturdy chemical formations in the first place and…”

Dale’s eyes opened wide as his mind, fueled by comic-book imagery, imagined the most paper-thin shell of stone cracking and dumping millions of tons of sharp rocks upon the body of his beloved.

Zipper glared at Gadget and buzzed his disapproval. She stopped, and smiled sheepishly. She decided to assemble some components from the cargo space of the Rangerwing. Ever since the case involving Rat Capone’s criminal empire in the sewers, Gadget more and more liked the idea of carrying a set of general components to assemble any one of several useful inventions in the field, like the portable winch and line that was slowly coming into being.

Foxglove flew back out of tunnel, breathing heavily. Dale immediately came over to hug her, glad to have her back safe. Foxglove smiled widely while catching her breath.

She reported, “I found…her. The entrance…splits off into…two passages. The left one…comes from an underground…spring. The one to the…right heads towards…a few clawed-out…tunnels by animals…digging for gold. The one farthest back…collapsed when the…floor gave way. She’s down…a few feet in a…hole, partially covered in…debris.”

Tammy queried, “Why are you so out of breath? You didn’t try to dig her out yourself, did you?”

Foxglove shook her head, “No, there’s just…no air in there!” The others gasped.

Gadget tsked while she fiddled with parts, “Oh dear, dear, dear. The air’s thin in the back, like I hoped it wouldn’t be. We have to get her out now if we’ll have any chance of saving her. Everyone fetch me some broad leaves and twigs.”

The Rangers, minus Gadget, began running up and down the aqueduct, collecting bits and pieces from the various plants that grew along the concrete half-pipe. In short order, the blonde inventor created a water-driven windmill that faced inwards towards the cave entrance. The flowing of the aqueduct water turned a paddlewheel which drove a disc which held the leaves in a pinwheel pattern. Plenty of air rushed into the cave now.

Chip ordered, “Monty, get in there and clear any debris out of the way. Dale and Tammy, see if you can get down to Terrica and start the first aid. Zipper and Foxglove, search around and warn us of any weak walls that may collapse. Gadget and I will push the winch down the tunnel.”

The Rangers immediately fell into line like a well-oiled machine. Monty ran up a pile of rocks that fell from the ceiling and began carrying them to a side passage. Zipper flew on ahead, hovering over the pit where the beaver child fell. Inside, the tunnel seemed like a permanent shadow, where it was never truly dark or light. One could see something in front of you, but not much past that.

Foxglove said urgently, “The ceiling above the pit is very unstable. Don’t do anything that will hit it or it will drop the whole hill on your heads.”

Dale reached the pit first, and then climbed a few paw-holds down. He held out one paw into space while clinging onto the wall with the other paw. Tammy raced to the edge, and then slowed to a stop. She vaulted over the edge with one paw, and stuck the other one into space, reaching for Dale. As she fell, their paws connected.

Tammy let go with her first paw, using the one in Dale’s grip solely for leverage. As her body fell past Dale, it traced an arc, leading her back to the wall. Expecting this, she held out her free paw catching the wall and gripping it tightly.

Dale in turn pushed off gently from the wall and repeated Tammy’s action. When he reached the section of wall under Tammy, he swung her under him, who then swung him under her. A couple more iterations of this, and they were both at the bottom of the pit safely.

The Hawaiian-clad chipmunk began pulling rocks off Terrica’s body while Tammy began to measure her heart rate and breathing. She mentioned, “Broken ribs. Concussion. Slow heartbeat. This isn’t good, Dale. If we don’t get her to a doctor in a few minutes, she may go into a coma.”

Dale removed rocks twice as fast now. He mentioned, “Then we better stop foolin’ around and do it then. Where’s the winch?”

Monty helped push the winch the remaining several inches, placing it at the edge of the pit. Gadget set the rope on the mechanism and let the loose end dangle down into the darkness.

Chip and Gadget braced the winch in place, while Monty turned the gears to lower the rope. Zipper grabbed the rope and sped down to the injured beaver. Dale and Tammy worked together to tie the rope around the Terrica’s body carefully.

Tammy called up, “Okay, pull her up gently!”

Monty began cranking the handle, which turned the gears, which wound the rope, which pulled the beaver up into the air. The assembly shifted forward, trying to fall over the side, but Chip and Gadget held it firmly in place.

As the Terrica’s body rose higher and higher into the air, Chip and Gadget felt the strain on their muscles. Their arms began to burn as they grappled with Mistress Gravity once again. The winch assembly creaked, a sign that their opponent had doubled her efforts.

Monty started huffing and said, “It’s getting…a mite hard…ta breath, luv!”

Gadget groaned with effort as she said, “Darn it! Maybe the aqueduct has lowered its level enough to stop turning the pinwheel. We need help if we’re going to get this beaver out of here, not to mention how we’re going to transport her in the ‘Wing!”

Getting an idea, Foxglove swooped down underneath the precious payload, and then placed herself underneath the beaver, back to back. She then flapped as hard as she could over and over.

Terrica’s weight lessened, partially abated by the kind-hearted bat. Monty’s cranking became easier and smoother. Chip and Gadget both felt the assembly decrease its tug as well. Soon, the beaver child’s body crested the edge of the pit.

Chip called out, “Hold her steady, Monty!”

The bold Aussie locked his arms in place, putting his full strength on the handle to keep it in place. Chip and Gadget slowly pulled the young one onto the edge. Chip untied the rope and tossed it over the edge, where it unwound itself to the bottom.

Dale and Tammy climbed up the totally unwound rope to the top. Monty grabbed the shoulders of Terrica, while Chip and Gadget each took an arm. Dale and Tammy each grabbed a leg. Zipper kept the beaver’s tail from dragging on the ground. In this way, the Rangers brought Terrica outside and lifted her carefully into the backseat of the Rangerwing.

Gadget climbed into the pilot’s seat and called back, “I’m going to stress the engines with just me aboard! Everyone else will have to walk back while I get her to the doctor!”

Tammy cupped her paws around her snout and shouted over the sound of the engines starting up, “Go for it, Gadget! Just remember to land extra softly!”

As the Rangerwing lifted off, it stayed in hover mode for a moment as it crossed the aqueduct, then switched into flight mode. Zipper and Foxglove flew after the Rangerwing to lend some help where they could when Gadget touched down in town. The rest of the Rangers drank deeply from the flowing water to refresh themselves.

Chip called out, “Well done, Rangers! We just saved a life today!” Cheers erupted all around as they started the long trek back to town.

The sun began to set in town. Several long picnic tables were set up in the middle of town, surrounded by torches. It seemed that everyone in town was there, save for the beavers and the doctor.

As the Rangers walked into the torchlight, the town cheered. “Hooray!” “Three cheers fer the Rangers!” “Right smart action there, boy!” “My heroes!”

Chip dusted off his hat gallantly, and then fit it back on his head. Gadget rose from the table and rushed over to him. The pair kissed deeply, much to the cheers of the town. Dale looked for his favorite bat, only to not see her. His ears drooped in sorrow, until he suddenly was bowled over from above. Foxglove wrapped her wings around her favorite ‘munk and smooched him until they were both out of breath.

Gadget looked at her ‘munk lovingly and said, “We did it, Chip. She’ll live now, thanks to us.”

Chip stared into those blue pools of devotion and said, “We did it together, my love. Neither of us could have succeeded alone, but together, we’re stronger than anything.”

The entire group was treated to a humble meal by the town. Rumors and gossip flowed back and forth across the tables about how perilous the rescue was. The Rangers chuckled every time someone would imagine some impossible obstacle that was beaten to a pulp by bare paws. The best story involved a long-forgotten giant squid from beyond the stars who slept for a thousand years in preparation for calling other giant squids to come and eat all land animals on the Earth.

Soon after it got dark, the Sheriff stood up and called out, “Well now folks, I hate t'break up a party, but it’s ‘Picnic Day’ tomorrey. So, everybody get t'bed early an' we’ll all leave together in the mornin' for the aqueduct.”

With mumbles of regret, the town started to break up and go home. Dale got a confused look on his face and asked the Sheriff, “What do you mean, ‘Picnic Day’? Is this some holiday or somethin’?”

The Sheriff frowned a bit, but then quickly recovered into a wide grin. He boasted, “Sure is, friend. Everyone in town leaves for the aqueduct an' we have us an all-day hootin'annie with games for the youngins and contests for the folks. We leave in the mornin' and come back at sundown. In fact, I want ye on my Three-Pawed Race Team boy. I’m bettin' we’ll beat them other fellers dang straight an' get some good pies out of it.”

Dale smiled and licked his lips. “Oh boy, oh boy! I love pie! You’re gonna save some for those beavers that can’t come with us, right?”

Sheriff Sharptooth lost his concentration on his fake smile. As he started to frown, he mentioned, “There ain't gonna be a need for that. They’re comin' with us. There's be plenty for ever'body.”

Tammy overheard the local officer’s words. She spun around in shock and shrieked, “What?! You can’t be serious! Terrica isn’t going anywhere! She has a severe concussion, a fractured skull, and even possible cracked neck bones! If you move her, you might paralyze her or even kill her!”

Sheriff Sharptooth tugged on his hat and stared meanly at the taller red-haired squirrel. He said forcefully, “Now I’ve had just about enough of you city folk tinhorns. Our doctor’s pulled off miracles a'fore an' he’ll do it again. He’ll fix 'er up enough to travel. Now it’s tradition ‘round these here parts to go on ‘Picnic Day’, even the sick and infirm. We’re not leavin' anyone behind.”

Tammy’s temper flared hotly as she felt her qualifications were questioned. She drew herself up to her full height and she poked the smaller field mouse in the chest. “Now you listen here! The doctor agrees with me! That child is too injured to move. If you move her for your silly, little, local festival then she’ll get worse. I’m not letting you do it!”

The townsfolk heard the argument from all over. They slowly and quietly shuffled back to the center of town with sad faces.

The Sheriff cracked his knuckles and made ready to lay hands on Tammy. The other Rangers immediately crowded between them. Monty pulled Tammy back while Chip tried to reason with the Sheriff.

Sharptooth threatened, “You’re just Greenies! You don’t know dog squat bout our way'a livin'! Who're you t'come in here and tell us what to do?! If'n Y'all try to stop our celebration tomorrey I’ll throw all of you in jail! I’m the law 'round here, not you and your little Regulator squad!”

Chip asked, “What’s so important about this ‘Picnic Day’ of yours that’s worth risking a child’s life over?”

Another beaver from town spoke up sadly, “'Cause if'n we leave her behind, she may as well be dead.”

The Rangers stared dumbfounded at the beaver. The Sheriff fumed, “It ain't none of their concern, Mack. Now just pack yer things and everythin'll be all right.”

Chip prompted the beaver, “Why would she be as good as dead, Mack? Will someone hurt her? Who’s left if everyone leaves?”

Sheriff Sharptooth glared at Mack, as if daring him to talk.

A young, female porcupine spoke up hesitantly, “It’s cause 'a…on account 'a that’s the deal the Sheriff made.”

Rodger snapped at her, “When we get back, I’m lockin’ you up for disturbin’ the peace, Jennifer! I gambled fer our lives in that deal. You know the terms! If anyone's still in town at high noon, then the deal’s off!”

Monty, finally losing his patience, walked over to the Sheriff and grabbed him by the vest. He lifted the law officer up off his feet and demanded, “Who are these blokes that you’ve made a deal with? Who?!”

Rodger’s nerves were reaching their critical point of overload. He snarled, “I’ll lock alla y'all up! I don’t care if you’re all big celebrities back east, you’re nothin' here! Nothin'! I’m the law!”

The robust Aussie calmly goaded, “Why don’t you call yer cronies back then? Let’s see you arrest us all.”

Finally, the field mouse’s resolve broke. He slumped in Monty’s grip and he admitted, “There is no one else. I’m the only one left.”

Seeing the fight leave the field mouse, Monty set him back on the ground. Chip asked, “What happened to your Deputies?”

Rodger shut up and wouldn’t talk for the shame. An elderly skunk male answered, “Fewer year ago, band 'a outlaws came t'the desert. I think they was runnin’ from the A.P.F. fer somethin’ way back. They holed up in the desert and began raidin’ us. For a few years, there'd be skirmishes between the law and the lawless 'bout every other month. The town got real tore up. On top'a which, one by one, the Deputies would git killed defendin' us. Sure the Sheriff'd take out some of them, but we was hard up t' begin with. 'Ventually, Rodger met with the sumgun leader of the gang an' bartered.”

Gadget asked timidly, “What was the deal?”

Chip grimaced and deduced, “Let me guess. Once or twice a year, after harvesting your crops, you all leave town. The gang comes in and robs the place blind. They take anything they want, including food and personal belongings. They promise not to take everything or rough up the town too much. In return, you don’t hunt them and you get advanced warning. Am I right, Sheriff?”

The Rangers gasped in shock and disappointment. The Sheriff just growled at the leader of the Rangers and spat at him.

Zipper squeaked and buzzed an accusation about the Sheriff’s conduct.

A male jackrabbit, wearing well-worn crutches, defended the officer. “No, no! Don’t judge 'im hard! Remember, he’s the only one left! If'n that gang had any more rotten in 'em, then he’d be dead and we’d all be slaves. What'd any a you do in his place?”

The Rangers stayed silent for a moment, questioning their own actions in such a hopeless scenario. They didn’t like the answers they gave themselves.

Foxglove timidly pointed out, “Couldn’t you call for help? I mean, you may be an isolated town, but the A.P.F. would send help if you asked for it.”

Sheriff Sharptooth replied, “We done tried that. We talk via telegraph to the marshal's office in Albuquerque. Those outlaws cut down the wire poles fer miles along the route. They even patrol the routes randomly. There just ain't no way to get word out.”

Dale snapped his fingers and chirped, “Well, that’s easy! We got an airplane and we can go get some more A.P.F.! We’ll bring as many as you like.”

Gadget countered his logic, “We can’t fly anywhere. Lifting Terrica strained the engines too harshly. I can’t fix it quickly enough with the parts available here in town.”

Everyone in the center of town felt their spirits drop. This was a hopeless situation. Even though the townsfolk outnumbered the bandits, none of them were fighters and many were children.

Chip spoke up, “Well, we’ll just have to stay here and fight them while you get everyone away.” The Rangers all began to mentally prepare themselves for a long battle ahead.

The Sheriff stalked right up to Chip and knocked the hat off his head. He poked the ‘munk in the chest and yelled for all to hear. “You won't do nothin' like it!!! This peace I made is fragile enough without you Greenhorns screwin' it up for us! Maybe you’ll eventually go back t'yer fancy city homes an' advanced gizmos, but this is all we got! There ain't noplace to go from here! Ever' time we leave, they don’t bust up the place, only scratch it up a bit. We’ve always survived an' re-built, an' that’s how it’s gonna be. If y'all interfere, that gang'll get angry enough to torch all 'a our homes, and that'll kill us!”

Chip’s eyes narrowed severely. He didn’t know what he hated more at the moment, the Sheriff knocking off his hat or the sight of animals living in fear by choice.

Sharptooth finished by stating, “You'll do what I say when I say it! I order you an' yer friends to head for the aqueduct bright'n early with the rest of us. If'n you don’t, then I ain't accountable fer what happens t'you or yer friends! There’s a full dozen of them outlaws an' they’re armed with real weapons. They ain't’t pullin' no punches or sparin' yer lives. They’ll probably do horrible things to the girls in yer little group before killin' them, too. You wanna be responsible for that, detective 'Jensen'?”

The fedora-clad chipmunk didn’t even blink, even though he felt like throwing up. He stated calmly, “Well, I don’t like disappointing you.”

Rodger snorted in satisfaction and then left. The others watched Chip carefully, wondering what he will do next. The townspeople filtered back home, wanting to rest up as much as possible for the big move tomorrow. The Rangers all voiced their opinions on the matter.

Monty blurted out, “It stinks! We oughtta stay an’ clobber them yahoos!”

Zipper buzzed his mixed feelings about damage to the town.

Tammy gripped her long, red hair and grumbled, “I don’t know what to do! If we stay, then the town might get destroyed. Would we have even saved anybody then? It’s not like there’s a convenient hotel somewhere for everyone to stay. It gets really cold in the desert at night, you know. We can’t ask them to camp out for months on end. Remember, this is the winter months. It can actually get to freezing temperatures out there.”

Foxglove offered, “I am NOT a coward, but maybe we should go along with the Sheriff’s plan. That way, maybe we can fix the Rangerwing and bring a whole load of A.P.F. to catch them when we’re ready.”

Dale agreed, “Yeah! That way everyone lives and the town isn’t destroyed.”

Gadget reminded Dale, “What about the beavers? Terrica can’t be moved or else she might die. You can bet Mrs. Bluetail won’t be moved by anyone or anything until her daughter gets better. The doctor has also volunteered to stay, but if that gang gets angry over someone left behind, they may attack them. I don’t want to calculate the odds of them surviving.”

The red-nosed one felt subdued by his oversight. He thought long and hard about this problem. At length, he offered, “Well, what if we freeze her in carbonite? She’ll be alive and in perfect hibernation.”

Foxglove chimed in, smiling the whole way, “Yes, she’ll be quite well protected if she survives the freezing process.”

Gadget tried to force her silly grin into a frown as she explained, “Even if I had the facilities to do that, it’s an unproven technology, so no.”

Monty looked over at his leader, who really hadn’t said anything. He asked, “Chip? What do you think, mate?”

The black-nosed chipmunk reached down to collect his hat. He stared at it for a while. All of the scratches, cuts, dents, and stains on it gave it an interesting character. He brushed off the dust and said, “I’ll tell you in the morning. Everybody get to bed.”

The others all stared at each other. It wasn’t like Chip to not have an idea of what to do. Even if he needed help in coming up with a plan, he always had an idea. They decided to follow his orders and trust in his ability to lead them in the morning.

Chip didn’t go to bed for a long while. He sat at a picnic table in the middle of town for over an hour. He stared up at the stars, wishing that they could talk and tell him what to do. Constellations and nebulae looked down upon him with their cryptic, indecipherable messages. The same way they looked down upon him last year and a century before that. It seemed that no one will ever figure out what they mean.

My instincts say I can’t do both at the same time. If I follow the Sheriff, then I abandon the town and those three souls to the mercy of bandits. The bandits have proven capable of killing before and they cause more damage if there’s any resistance.

If I stay, then I fight them possibly to the death. The bandits outnumber us and some of my friends might die. We might still lose and they would burn the town. That would still kill Mrs. Bluetail and Terrica and the doctor. It would also lose the town and the others would be homeless.

I guess what it comes down to is what I’m willing to lose. There’s over a hundred animals who live in town. There’s only three animals left behind. If I stay, I risk hurting over a hundred animals. If I go, I definitely forsake only three.

Chip wiped a stray tear from his face. He didn’t even realize that he was crying until now. He sobbed with confusion and turmoil.

How do I choose? What do I choose? Why do I have to choose who lives and who dies? Why can’t someone else do it? It’s not fair!

He tore at his headfur in frustration. Forsake a hundred or forsake three. He couldn’t see any choice that he liked.

He vented his feelings for several minutes, and then thought to himself miserably. I guess it’s a choice of who I can live without. Can I live knowing that I made an entire community homeless? Especially after accepting their hospitality for weeks? Could I live knowing that I left a little girl to die knowing that others would live?

He tried to consider things logically. If he had his way, then the girl could leave town and he would let the bandits raid the empty town. But the girl couldn’t leave. If she left, she might die. If she stayed, she might die.

If he left town and she died, he couldn’t face himself in the mirror as a Rescue Ranger anymore.

If he stayed and she died, he would blame himself forever. He might even be miserable enough to not lead the others anymore.

He cursed his luck. He cursed his friends for bringing him here. He cursed his Fate for being the one in charge.

No matter what, someone would lose and he might not win.

Damned if you do.

Damned if you don’t.

For a brief moment, Chip could only see the futility of trying to save everyone.

Then, he made his decision.

The next morning, the entire town was packing all of their precious possessions into pushcarts for the trek towards the aqueduct. The Rangers gathered around the Rangerwing, inspecting it for damage and conjecturing possible repairs.

Foxglove asked, “Couldn’t we just glide over to the aqueduct? I glide all the time.”

Gadget retorted, “We still need to put it up into the air to gain altitude to glide. The engines can’t even do that.”

Monty asked gently, “If we do get the ‘Wing repaired, couldn’t we fly the Bluetails over there? I mean either Gadget or I can set her down real soft-loike.”

Tammy yelled, “That doesn’t matter! Simply lifting her out of bed could send her into a coma! I won’t let you touch her!”

Dale held Tammy back as she balled up her fists. He soothed her, “Hey, hey! Easy there! Nobody’s hurting anyone.”

Zipper landed on Tammy’s shoulders and hugged her cheek. The red-haired squirrel calmed down enough to whisper, “Sorry, everyone.”

Gadget looked over her shoulder and saw just what she wanted to see. Chip was approaching the group in a bold stride. He looked rested and ready to tell everyone his plan. She raced over to wrap him up in a powerful hug.

The fedora-wearing chipmunk returned the hug with equal intensity. He kissed her on the forehead, and then they walked back to the group.

Monty begged, “Please, Chippah. Tell us you have a plan.”

Chip tugged on his hat determinedly and said, “I do. I’m staying.”

The rest of the Ranger waited for a second sentence, or at least a few words to explain the plan. When it wasn’t forthcoming, Tammy asked, “What do you mean?”

Chip repeated, “I don’t have a full battle strategy. I’m just staying behind. I’m gonna wait until everyone leaves, then wait for the gang to show up. I’m gonna face them head on and let the cards fall where they may.”

The others looked at Chip, aghast at his words. Several animals from town heard the conversation and wandered over.

A porcupine asked, “Did I hear right? Y’all’re gonna fight the gang? All by yer lonesome?! Y'all’re crazy!”

The Rangers looked at Chip expectantly. A mated pair of jackrabbits hopped over, disappointment etched deep in their faces.

The female growled, “What're you gonna do? Beat up a couple of 'em before the entire posse fills you full'a lead? What’ll that prove?

Chip looked evenly at the female jackrabbit and replied, “I’m not trying to prove anything.”

The male jackrabbit demanded, “Then WHY, for Nature’s sake?!?”

Gadget looked into Chip’s eyes. She silently pleaded with him to change his mind or at least to ask for help.

Chip took a deep breath, and then explained his thinking. “Because…because maybe everyone’s right. My friends brought me here to this pile of sand because they think we belong here. I want…to find out if they’re right.”

He stood up as tall as he could and continued. “Maybe the Sheriff’s right. Maybe I can’t save everyone I meet. Maybe those beavers are destined to die, no matter what I do. Maybe I can’t stop that gang from wrecking your homes.”

He blinked once, then twice. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just turn my back on a hopeless few and make sure that the many survive. If I run away with the rest of you, I’ll live. The town won’t be destroyed, and there will still be some food left that the bandits didn’t take. Nobody will even think badly of me because they’ll have done the same things I have.”

He frowned greatly, showing his distaste. “There’s a whole social ‘machine’ that works because everybody does what they’re supposed to, and I found out that I was supposed to be…something I didn’t like. But, that’s what’s in the ‘program’. That’s my rotten little part in the rotten ‘machine’. I don’t like it, so I’m going to find out if they’re right.”

Chip let go of his favorite mouse to stare up at the jackrabbits. He declared, “I’m not crazy, nor do I hate you. No matter what choice I make, something bad is going to happen. So, I’m just going to choose not to live in fear.”

The jackrabbits scowled at the leather-clad chipmunk. They spat at his feet and hopped away. The porcupine also turned to leave, but he silently wished the Ranger good luck. One by one, the Rangers all voiced their positions on Chip’s simple, but suicidal plan.

Monty balled up his fists and boasted, “No pallie of mine has evah faced down death without ol’ Monterey Jack at ‘is side! I’m with you, Chippah!”

Zipper squeaked, buzzed, and pantomimed himself standing up to someone many times his size. He gestured the acts of fighting to the death.

Tammy rolled her eyes, but then smiled. She said, “I might as well stick around to tend to the wounded. Besides, you guys are now my family and Chestnutts don’t walk out on family.”

Gadget fought back her tears and sniffled. Her mind filled with terrible images of the Rangers lying mangled in the street. She wished that there was another way, but no image came to her mind. She stood up tall and decided, “Don’t you dare think about facing those outlaws without my inventions to back you up!”

Foxglove cheered, “Besides, it’s not impossible! We just might save Terrica after all! The Rescue Rangers do the impossible all the time!”

Chip smiled. The loyalty of his friends warmed his heart. He turned to his best friend and asked, “And you, Dale? What do you say?”

The red-nosed one looked seriously at Chip. Suddenly, the two chipmunks acknowledged a bond between them that words did not need to justify. They clasped wrists proudly. Dale reminded Chip, “Don’t you ever think we wouldn’t stand behind you in a good cause. May the Force be with us.”

As the sun climbed to its peak in the sky, voices echoed in from the edge of town. A dozen shadows stretched along the ground as if creeping towards a helpless lamb. Several Prairie Dogs, dressed in dirty scraps of denim, approached the town, full of glee. They had shaved patterns into their fur, showing symbols of flesh in the shape of skulls, daggers, or anything else disturbing that they could mention. The Prairie Dogs were armed with scavenged bits and pieces that were forged into knives, shortswords, and shortbows with metal-tipped arrows.

Males and females both began yelling and whooping their might to the noonday sun, as if they had won a victory just by walking into town. Immediately, they began throwing rocks at windows and running into stores and residences, looking for rare and prized loot.

The biggest, longest shadow belonged to the leader. His shadow stretched itself wide, as if trying to engulf the whole street in its darkness. As it slid forth, it bumped against the bare footpaws of a chipmunk.

The leader looked up into the eyes of the chipmunk. The leader growled, “This is our town fer the day, outsider. If'n y'all beg fer mercy, maybe I’ll kill y'quick.”

The chipmunk wearing a leather bomber jacket and fedora replied, “Not gonna happen, Twinkletoes.” The chipmunk’s hands strayed to his wait, where he was wearing a leather belt, complete with twin holsters for pistols. Each holster sported a makeshift pistol with a hollow barrel. Along the belt were hanging placements for the suction darts that fitted into the barrel. Chip pulled a pistol and a suction dart.

The leader yelled in gibberish at his followers. As they returned to his side, Chip mused, He invented some sub-language like ‘Pigeon English’. He probably thinks no one but his followers can understand. Chip’s brain deciphered the simple speech in a second. The leader had said, “Circle around the chipmunk and bring me his head.”

Chip placed the suction dart in the barrel and pushed it in forcefully. After some initial resistance, the dart slid inside with a CLICK. Gadget had made high-powered springs and a trigger mechanism for each pistol. When the trigger is pulled, the grips holding the spring in place let go, which allowed the huge amount of potential energy hurl the dart like a crossbow bolt at terrific speed on the rodent scale. Smiling grimly, he drew another suction dart and stood ready for anything.

Six of the Prairie Dogs raced outward from the leader, taking back alleys to slip behind the chipmunk’s back. Chip’s smile widened. The leader stomped towards the chipmunk with murder in his eyes.

He lifted his serrated machete menacingly and taunted, “Maybe the chipmunk's too stupid t’know he's gonna die.”

Chip replied, “Maybe the Prairie Dog is too stupid to count his enemy before splitting up his team.”

In a side alley, two Prairie Dogs raced side-by-side along its length. As they came to a corner, Dale stepped out to face them. He also wore a pair of makeshift pistols on a leather belt, but in his left hand, he gripped a shield. The shield had a white star in a blue circle, surrounded by rings of red and white.

Dale declared, “Halt! Remove yourself from this town forever, or face the wrath of pie!”

The Prairie Dogs stopped in their tracks, their brains locking up. We hear him right? What’s so bad about pie?

The shield-wearing chipmunk pulled his right pistol with his right hand and called out, “Now, Foxy!”

From around the corner, Foxglove came flying in, carrying a rodent-sized pie in each foot. The shocked Prairie Dogs tried fumbling with their shortbows, only to drop them on the ground.

The bat swooped in, releasing her payloads. SPLAT! SPLAT! Both pies landed squarely on the faces of the bandits.

Dale quickly stepped up close, swinging his shield at the head of the left bandit. CLANG! The shield dented upon impact, but the blow knocked the bandit unconscious. The remaining Prairie Dog wiped the pie from her face as Dale carefully drew a suction dart with his shield hand and loaded it.

The Prairie Dog went wide-eyed and sniffled. As she discreetly snuck a hand behind her back to draw a dagger, she whimpered, “You ain’t gonna hurt a girl who’s just tryin' t'survive, would ya, sir?”

Dale’s innate sense of Justice collided with his Nice Guy attitude. He mumbled, “Uhhh…I guess not.”

Suddenly smiling viciously, the Prairie Dog drew her dagger and made ready to charge. A pair of furred feet grabbed her shoulders and lifted her into the air several inches.

Foxglove shouted, “You stay away from my male, you hussy!” She shook the female Prairie Dog’s body and then threw it against the nearby wall. The bandit’s head bounced off the wall, announcing her trip to unconsciousness.

As Foxglove landed, Dale hugged her and cheered, “Thanks, Foxy! Sometimes you don’t know your own strength!”

The kind-hearted bat smooched her chipmunk and said, “Well, that meanie had it coming. I’ve got to keep an eye on you today. Who knows what trouble you’ll get into?”

A pair of Prairie Dogs raced down an alley on the opposite side of the street. They turned the corner to the right and saw the next intersection. In it were a large, wooden trash bin and a fly hovering over it. The fly was looking down the alley towards the street at the leather-clad chipmunk.

The pair of bandits drew their daggers and leaped at the insect. At the last moment, Zipper turned to look at the approaching shadows. Instinctively, he twisted in mid-air and tried to fly away down the alley towards the chipmunk.

The two bandits snarled at their prey, speeding on the ground to catch up to the fly. They soon surrounded him, slashing at him rapidly. The trapped fly ducked, weaved, and dodged for his life in circles, squares, triangles, and even a dodecahedron.

Metal whizzed through the air, coming only a hair’s breadth from the fly’s precious wings or his eyes. Unseen by the warriors, a large, hulking shadow lifted from the trash bin. It hefted a huge rifle, aiming at the group.

The fly zipped around in a wide circle, going around the head of one Prairie Dog. Counting itself clever, the Prairie Dog pivoted on its right foot and slipped out of the circle, lest his partner slice the wrong head.

Suddenly, the fly squeaked and pointed behind the two bandits. The clever bandit did not turn his head. His partner, however, wasn’t so clever. He did turn his head to see what the fuss was.

Monty aimed his rifle at the face of the not-so-clever bandit and pulled the trigger. The oversized suction dart zoomed out of the large barrel, striking the Prairie Dog in the face. The power of the rifle yanked the bandit off his feet by an inch and slammed the back of his head into his partner’s head. CLONK! Both bandits dropped to the ground in a dreamless slumber.

The noble fly hovered over to the Aussie and squeaked a cheer.

Monty laughed as he reloaded, “Gyeah, ha, ha! That’s showing ‘em, Zip! You know, I kinda loike this thing. Maybe we should get Gadget to make some real firepower for us back ‘ome.”

The last two Prairie Dogs raced down their alley and around the corner. One pulled out a shortbow and knocked an arrow. The other drew a dagger, eager to slash someone.

As they rounded a corner, they came face-to-face with a very determined, red-haired squirrel. Tammy was wearing a shady sombrero in addition to her normal attire. She held a loaded suction dart pistol in each hand.

Staring down the bandits, she called out, “All right, hombre. Draw.”

The Prairie Dog with the shortbow quickly took aim and fired. Anticipating this, Tammy ducked to the left into a sideways roll. The arrow missed her head but knocked the hat off her head.

She fired with both pistols at the bandit. One pistol struck the bandit’s hand holding the shortbow, forcing her to drop it. The other struck the bandit in the face, covering her eyes.

The bandit cried out, “Aaahhh! I been got! Give 'er lead!” The remaining bandit in the alley tried to charge at Tammy with his dagger ready to stab. Watching from above, Gadget retracted the toe spikes from her iron foot brace. As she fell to the ground, she pulled a bola from her waist.

Landing roughly on her feet, she swung the bola over her head and threw it at the back of the last Prairie Dog in the alley. Hearing the whirling sound of the weapon, he turned around just in time to watch the spinning tether wrap around his upper body, immobilizing his attack capability.

The female Prairie Dog pulled the suction dart off her face and reached for her shortbow, an arrow already in her other hand. She grabbed it and then straightened up. She was just in time to see Tammy race up and hurl her fist. POW! The female dropped unconscious. Tammy changed targets and threw her other fist at the still-standing male. POW! The male followed the example of the female.

The leader of the Prairie Dogs advanced on the chipmunk like a wildcat stalking its prey. His followers fanned out behind him, forming a semi-circle to trap the arrogant chipmunk.

He slashed the air with his machete menacingly. “What makes you think Y’all leave here breathin', chipmunk? By now, yer surrounded. There’s no escape.”

Chip tilted his hat up just a fraction and remarked, “Who said I wanted to escape? It’s you who are surrounded. Give up and you’ll be spared.”

Furious, the leader began to charge the chipmunk. “Why should I surrender to a corpse?!?!”

Suddenly, a large suction dart flew out at lightning speed from a side alley. It slammed into a Prairie Dog’s skull, driving it backwards and sideways into his partner. CLUNK! Both fell down not moving.

A pair of bolas flew out of an alley, each ensnaring a Prairie Dog before they could draw an arrow. Both bandits were completely wrapped in cords and fell down.

Dale stepped out of an alley and raised his pistol at the remaining Prairie Dog, who raised its shortsword protectively in front of herself.

The red-nosed one plastered a stern look on his face and intoned, “This party’s over.” He then fired, striking the Prairie Dog in the weapon hand. The shortsword fell to the dirt below. A fierce bat soared from the top of a nearby building and picked up the bandit by her shoulders.

Turning in a sharp turn upwards and to the right, Foxglove released her burden, who flew across the street to hit her head against a nearby building on the opposite side of the street.

All of this happened so fast, that the leader’s mind boggled. He skidded to a stop, watching helplessly as his gang dwindled to nothing. He counted and saw how badly he was outnumbered.

He glared at Chip and screamed, “We had a DEAL!!!”

Chip hotly replied, “You had a deal with the Sheriff. We’re not with him.” He then raised his pistol right at the Prairie Dog’s face, sighting carefully.

The bandit leader quivered in place and boasted, “If you git me, m-my…my boys'll will hunt you down!”

The chipmunk in the fedora answered, “We took care of you easily. We’ll be ready for them.”

Sweat began to pour down the bandit leader’s face. He tried to consider all his options.

Escape? Nope, he was cut off on all side, including the air.

Bluff? Nope, the chipmunk in the hat did not believe anything he said.

Bargain? Ugh, he hated to bargain with anyone. It showed that he was not all-powerful. The leader asked, “If we swear ‘amisty’, will you let us go?”

The chipmunk glared at the Prairie Dog. The bandit leader shivered at the sight.

Chip said, “No. Here’s my offer. If you surrender and order all of your henchmen to not resist, then I can promise you a fair trial, clean beds, free food, and a lifetime of safety. However, if you resist, if you don’t drop that sword, if you don’t order every single last minion of yours to surrender, then you also have my promise that I WILL gun you down where you stand.”

Looking all around him, the Prairie Dog saw the Rescue Rangers reloading their weapons and advancing slowly. He looked at their leader. Chip’s steely eyes never left their target. Finally, the bandit leader dropped his knife and fell to his knees. He collapsed in a fit of sobbing.

“Take me! Just jail me! I’m sick 'a living in that ol' desert anyway!”

The Rangers went bandit by bandit, tying them up securely and dragging them off to the holding cell in the Sheriff’s office. Chip gave an order to Foxglove, who eagerly obeyed. While she performed that joyous task, Chip found a chair on the porch of the Sheriff’s office and just sat in it, reveling in his victory for the day.

A couple of hours later, the entire assembly of townsfolk brought their personal valuables back into town for the last time. One by one, pair by pair, the entire population came into the Sheriff’s office, looking to see for themselves that the gang of outlaw Prairie Dogs were indeed captured and not just a cruel trick by the outsider bat.

Sheriff Rodger Sharptooth humbly walked up to Chip, who was still sitting in the Sheriff’s favorite chair. Rodger could only just barely bring himself to look the chipmunk in the eye after the way he had treated the 'Tinhorn'.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Chip mercifully started conversation by stating, “The doc says little Terrica is gettin' better. As long as she stays put, then she’ll mend in a few months. Them head injuries oughta be better in a few weeks.”

Rodger nodded, saying, “Yup, good. I was worried about her.” When Chip didn’t say anything else, he continued, “I’m sorry about treatin' you folks the way I did. What else could I do? I was alone against twelve outlaws. These folks're good people, but not a one of 'em fighters. All our fighters were done killed except me. What would you have done?”

Chip thought for a moment, and then said, “I don’t know. I would have to be in that situation and make the decision before I could tell you.”

Rodger was grateful. Chip could have chewed him out loudly and no one would stop him. At length, he timidly asked, “You want me t'step down as Sheriff? You know everyone'll accept you if you ask for it.”

The chipmunk tugged on his hat, saying, “It’s tempting, but I have a job back home. I should get back to it before long. If you’re the only fighter left, then you should keep the job. However, I suggest you start fixing your communications to Albuquerque. Once it’s done, you better get more officers here to be deputized. I’d hate to have to come back here again.”

Sheriff Sharptooth stood up and dusted himself off. After breathing a sigh of relief, he said, “You know, I never understood why my niece Norma left here to go to the big city. I always told her that the city was full of corrupt yahoos. I guess that bad folks can pop up anywhere, even here. You and your friends're all right, Chip. Y'all’re all welcome here anytime.”

That night, there was no party. Everyone was too tired for festivities, but they were very grateful for the blessing that they had received. Most animals spend a nice, quiet evening with their families. The Rangers spent this time trying to repair the Rangerwing. Well, actually Gadget was trying to repair the Rangerwing as most of the damage was to the engines. The others became very proficient at getting in the way and taking turns telling bad jokes to try to make Gadget laugh while she worked.

Mrs. Roughtail had shooed them away from the ranch house. She has said, “Fer what you youngsters did fer little Terrica, there’ll be no chores fer a week!” So, the Rangers counted themselves fortunate for the next week.

Gadget asked, “Could someone pass me a pair of two-thousand Ohm resistors, please?”

Dale started scoping through the bin of parts that the General Store had donated. He pulled out several components and questioned, “Uh, what do they look like?”

The blonde inventor explained, “They’ll be long, tube-like things with wires through them. They’ll have four colored bands around them. I’m looking for the ones that start off ‘red, black, red’.”

Being a self-proclaimed expert on colors, Dale fished out a pair that fit the bill and gave them to Zipper. Zipper took them and flew over to the Rangerwing. He rotated upside-down, skirted under the starboard wing, and then handed Gadget the components while he was facing in the same orientation as she was.

She took the pieces and put them in her mouth, holding them in place with her teeth. As she began soldering one in place, she mumbled, “Hrnks, Zppr!”

Chip was using this time to scribble incessantly on his notepad. He barely paid any attention to Monty, who was telling a story to Tammy and Foxglove.

“There we were, me an’ me Dad, in tha Florida Everglades! We ‘ad both come ta Florida at tha same toime fer tha same reason, tha Statewide Flamingo Waterskiin’ Championships! You wouldn’t know it by lookin’ at them, but Flamingos can be real competitive about speed.”

Tammy asked, “How fast can they go, Monty?”

The rugged Aussie replied, “Well, lass, when they’re really cutting loose, they can get up ta forty miles per hour. More than enough fer a pair of rugged mice like me an’ me Dad ta go waterskiin’ through the Everglades!”

Foxglove laughed, wrapping her wings around her midsection to prevent herself from falling over. “Ha, ha, ha! Monty, you’re terrible! Waterskiing in a swamp? I suppose you had an obstacle course and everything!”

Monty puffed out his chest and stated, “Why of course we did, luv! There was the pylon slalom, the speed course, and the ramp! Them flamingos practically begged bigger rodents to be pulled along jus’ ta prove how fast they could fly with such weight. Them judges ‘ave a complicated scale to adjust fer weight and species of passenger against final speed or time of course.”

Tammy grinned and asked, “So, the fatter the mouse, the better the score?”

Monty stopped in mid-breath to save his pride, “Well, there was a mite bit of adjustment fer me, but there was more fer me Dad.”

Tammy finally broke out with giggling, rolling off her seat and onto the ground.

The seasoned adventurer finished, “Still, me flamingo got the best score on tha speed trial, an’ I woulda beaten Dad in tha ramp, except me pilot got a wing cramp at jus’ tha roight moment.”

Foxglove gasped in shock. Fretfully, she asked, “Did you fall?”

Monty twirled his moustache bravely and explained, “No, lass. At jus’ tha roight moment, me flamingo fell down into tha water, tugging on me line jus’ as I was liftin’ from tha ramp. It made tha line loike a slingshot and hurled me like a boulder from a catapult. I set tha world record fer flamingo-powered rodent flight that day, an’ there’s a special tree with a Monty-shaped hole in it to commemorate the day.”

After several more stories, Gadget came out from under the Rangerwing and declared, “Well, that’s as good as I can get it here. We’ll have to fly it to the nearest human settlement so I can raid the Transistor Shack for real parts. Still, we should make it in one piece.”

The Rangers collectively shuddered at the Forbidden Word, then shaking their heads to remove it from their memories. Chip said, “Well, I guess the ‘Case of the Absent Cattle’ will have to wait.” He thought absently, then offered, “Well, it’s lunchtime, so maybe we should eat, then a few of us can go to town and help Gadget.”

Agreements were made for Chip, Tammy, and Zipper to accompany Gadget to the Transistor Shack after lunch. They would get the parts, and then bring them back here to be assembled, rather than do it there. The blonde inventor estimated that it would still take several hours to install all the new parts and she didn’t feel comfortable flying in this unfamiliar terrain at night.

Mrs. Bluetail came running at full pace right towards the Rangers. She skidded to a halt, accidentally bumping Dale. The Hawaiian-clad chipmunk fell over onto the bin of parts, scattering them on the ground.

The beaver matron screamed, “It’s terr'ble!!! Y'all gotta help!”

Chip walked over and placed a firm grip on the beaver’s shoulder. He commanded her in a low tone, “Stop. Take a deep breath. THEN tell me what’s wrong.”

Mrs. Bluetail did as she was told. After a moment, she begged, “You have to help! After breakfast, several of us noticed that the water was a bit off. Then, they started gittin' real high fevers. The doctor was checkin' 'em out when they started t' droollin' an' a funny smell come from their mouths.”

The beaver then gripped the chipmunk by the shoulders and shook him forcefully. She cried, “It’s Hoof’n’Mouth! The water’s got infected with Hoof’n’Mouth! The doc cain’t make enough cure for all 'a us! He says to gather everyone and find the plants on this list and bring 'em t'him!”

She gave a piece of paper, covered in the squiggles of an old-fashioned doctor’s handwriting. Gadget took the list and said, “Hmmm… I think I remember seeing some of these plants up by the area near the canyons where we lost the cattle tracks.”

Chip ordered, “Foxglove, you and Zipper fly on ahead and look for these plants. Start picking as many as you can. The rest of us will fly up and help. Ma’am, you gather a few animals who don’t go out picking plants and start boiling water. Boiling it will kill the disease and you’re going to have a lot of thirsty animals during this search.”

Several minutes later, the Rangerwing flew over the area in question. At Chip’s direction, Gadget set down the aircraft at the mouth of a canyon about fifty human feet away from the spot they were at before.

The Rangers climbed out of the Rangerwing to meet up with Foxglove and Zipper. Zipper began buzzing and pointing in several directions.

Foxglove agreed, “Yes, there are several groups of Elderberry Bushes growing around here. There must be some underground spring somewhere. How many berries do we need?”

Gadget rattled off orders, organizing the Rangers into the most efficient groups. “None, we only take the flowers. The berries are useless for our purposes. Take as many blooms as you can, even the unopened ones. Dale and Zipper stay right around here. Tammy and Foxglove head towards the eastern edge of the canyon. Chip and Monty, you two head to the western edge. I’ll stay here for a few more quick fixes on the plane and then help where I can. Remember, don’t crush the flowers when you pick them.”

The Rangers split up, eager to gather and many flowers as possible. Chip and Monty ran on all fours towards the edge of the canyon to their left. When they reached their destination, they found dozens of large boulders on the ground with many tall, green bushes growing around them. There were dark colored berries growing in bunches and several large cones of flowers. Each cone seemed to have almost small thirty flowers growing from a single stalk, making it seem like a solid structure.

Monty began climbing up the stem of the nearest bush and crawling out towards the cones of flowers. Chip stood underneath, ready to catch whatever was dropped.

The rugged Aussie broke off a thick stem and hurled it at Chip, calling out, “Look out below!”

The chipmunk watched the cone approach and fastly realized how big they were. The cone fell on him and suck down to his waist. It seemed the structure of flowers was impaled by a chipmunk. Chip stumbled a bit before tripping on a rock and falling on his back. He wriggled out of the cone and grumbled at chipmunk speed.

“Bwa-ha-ha! You should see it from up ‘ere, Chippah!” Monty nearly bust a gut laughing at the detective’s plight. Chip glared up at Monty, choosing not to say anything.

After several minutes of picking over the bushes for their flowers, Chip and Monty brought all of the blooms to a single pile. Chip wiped the perspiration off his forehead and said, “Well, let’s get this all back to Gadget.”

Monty poked Chip meaningfully in the shoulder and whispered, “Don’t turn around too quickly, mate, but we’re not alone.”

Chip slowly turned his head to his right, expecting to see a horde of Nimnul’s killer robots, ready to wreak havoc upon them. Instead, what he saw baffled him even more.

A tall, muscular, male Panamint Chipmunk stood not ten paces away from him and Monty. The stranger wore no clothing, but there were bits of turquoise woven into his fur at several places along his body. He had an even gaze that betrayed no emotion. He held a long fighting stick in a relaxed pose, but he gripped the snakeskin leather wrap in the middle tightly.

Chip felt a shiver run up his spine as he wondered how such a tall animal could sneak up on both him and Monty without making a sound. He adjusted his hat on his head and drew himself up to his full height to face the stranger. The stranger seemed to stare his hat very closely.

Monty whispered in Chip’s ear, “Easy there, pallie. This here’s a native what lives around ‘ere. You don’t want to provoke ‘im if ya don’t have to. I’ve seen some native in other places take offense at the strangest things, an’ go wild on ya.”

Chip walked up to the Panamint Chipmunk and offered his paw. The stranger seemed to consider the paw for a moment before shaking it with his own. He said, “Nice hat.”

The leather-clad chipmunk was startled by this statement. He stammered, “Y-you speak English?”

The Panamint Chipmunk smirked and said, “Yeah. I even graduated from the local high school, too.”

Feeling foolish, Chip said, “Sorry, I just never met anyone like you before.”

The golden-furred one laughed powerfully and said, “Well, that makes us even. Call me Wyler. I’m a local guide by trade. I also patrol around our territory to help the Tribal Police on the weekends. Mind if I ask what you’re doing to our flowers?”

Chip gulped, then said, “The animal community to the southwest has a case of Hoof’n’Mouth, making everybody sick! The doctor says he needs these flowers to make enough medicine for everybody. He doesn’t have enough without them! We’re leaving the berries alone, but we need the flowers. Can we have them, please? They’re not sacred, are they?”

Wyler looked over at the pile of flowers with curiosity. He mentioned, “That ol' quack’s still lookin' for medicine in these plants? Will he never give up?” The Panamint Chipmunk sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

He offered, “No, they’re not sacred. You can go ahead and take as many as you like. It’s good you’re leaving the berries behind, since they have the seeds.”

Monty shook hands with the native gladly and said, “That’s roight generous of ya, mate! I’ll be sure ta let ‘em all know in town that they’re gifts. C’mon, Chippah, let’s get back to tha plane.” Monty picked up half of the pile of flowers and began walking towards the Rangerwing.

Chip also shook hands with the local and said, “Thanks again.”

Wyler smiled as he returned, “Always proud to help others.”

The leather-clad chipmunk asked, “You said you patrol around here?”

The guide replied proudly, “Yup, ever' last square inch of our territory has been accounted for by me. I know every rock and tree, every stream and crevice. Some say I even count all the air molecules just to be exact.” Then he arched his eyebrows twice, punctuating his joke.

Chip forced a laugh and picked up a stray twig. He drew out a crude overhead of the area, starting from the human cattle ranch and leading to the canyon just over the hill from where they stood.

He asked, “I’ve been looking into a strange occurrence at the human ranch. Seems sometimes cattle wander off without reason into the desert, over to here. The tracks end right there in the middle of the canyon. There’s no escape from there and no reason for the cattle to leave in the first place. Is there any secret way out of the canyon that I missed?”

The guide squatted down to inspect the drawing closely. He seemed to concentrate for a good ten minutes before replying. “Nope, no secret way out. If your eyes weren’t so clear, I’d say that you’re lying. But this is a mystery to me.”

Chip’s mind boggled as he appraised the guide with a keener eye. He thought there wasn’t enough time for the total stranger to judge Chip’s character, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

Wyler stood up and said, “Still, I think there may be someone who can help us.”

Hopeful, Chip asked, “Who’s that? Your Sheriff? Your mayor? Well, maybe you have a Chief instead of a mayor.”

The guide shook his head and said, “Nah, those guys don’t know nothin' 'bout this. We should go see the shaman. Maybe he can ask for help for you.”

Chip looked askance at Wyler, trying not to voice his opinion. The Panamint Chipmunk looked sternly at the outsider and said not unkindly, “This is how we believe the Universe works, friend. It’s just as real or unreal as your beliefs. How do you interpret the Universe? You sit in a hollow tree and ask some invisible spirit tell you a sign of what to do? That’s not too different from us, you know.”

The chipmunk tugged his hat thoughtfully. He thought to himself, I don’t want to upset him, not after he helped us. Still, it might prove useful. Maybe this ‘shaman’ is just some informant who uses this as an information business. Maybe I should go there. But what if it’s real? Gadget says more cattle may disappear tonight if I waste time with this if it turns out to be false. But what if he actually saw something? Hmmm…

After a few moments, Foxglove called out from the sky, “Hey, Chip?! What’s wrong? The rest of us have our flowers already! We have to get going!” The kindly bat landed next to her leader, looking expectantly at the native.

Taking the hint, Chip introduced them. “Wyler, this is Foxglove. She’s my best friend’s girl. Foxy, this is Wyler. He’s a local guide and working with the Tribal Police. He’s the reason we have permission to take THEIR flowers.”

Foxglove smiled widely, giving Wyler a spontaneous hug. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mr. Wyler! You have no idea how many lives you’ve saved by letting us take the flowers. We’ll be very careful to leave the berries behind. Chip, are you ready to go?”

Chip made his decision. “Foxy, take the flowers back to the Rangerwing and tell Gadget to takeoff. Come back for me later around here.”

Foxglove’s face faulted as she panicked, “What’s wrong, Chip? Are you in danger? Are you sacrificing yourself for the good of the mission? Should I write down how Gadget wept uncontrollably at your heroic demise? Should I ask for a higher percentage of the profits from the movie studio when they want our script?”

Wyler tried hard not to laugh at Foxglove’s runaway train of thought. Chip slapped his open paw over his eyes, and then slid it down his face.

Grumpy, he explained, “No, Foxglove. There won’t be a script to write. All those flowers we picked will take up space in the ‘Wing. I’m going to stay behind so you can pile them all in my seat so they don’t blow away when you guys fly them back. Just come back afterwards and wait for me here. I’ll be back after I meet a few people in Wyler’s village.”

Foxglove clearly did not like this plan. Her facial features twitched as her worry shone through clearly. She said, “Gadget won’t like this, Chip. What do I tell her if she doesn’t want to go?”

Chip tilted his fedora and lowered his voice a bit. He explained, “Tell her that ‘the needs of the many outweigh’…”

Foxglove finished the famous quote, “…’the needs of the few, or the one’.” She sniffled, and then bravely wiped the tears from her face. She sobbed, “Darn it, Chip, you know that line gets me every time. I’ll make her understand!”

She flapped her wings and hovered over the pile of flowers. Reaching in with her footpaws, she grabbed the stems of all the flowers and flew off.

She called out, “Live long and prosper, you heroic chipmunk!”

Finally, Wyler could stand it no more. He rolled around on the dusty ground, clutching his sides in powerful laughter. “Ghah-ha-ha!!! Are all of you so silly?”

Chip ruefully said, “All the time. Be glad that this didn’t come from Dale. He’d probably say something so obscure and profound, that you’d still be thinking about it after dinner. Now, let’s go see your shaman. I may not believe it, but let’s hear him out. Maybe he’ll say something that will give me ideas.”

While the Rangers were flying back towards town, Foxglove and Zipper had to fly behind the Rangerwing. Even though Gadget had reduced the throttle to only half speed and also even though most of the flowers were piled into the front seat and held down with a combination of twine and Monty’s overcoat, some flowers still were blown out at random intervals out of the plane.

The noble fly stepped up to dart here and there, snagging the errant blooms in mid-air before they fell to the ground. He then gave them to Foxglove, who collected two footpawfuls and then flew up to deposit the flowers in the backseat. Soon, equilibrium settled out and there were as many flowers filling the backseat as there was in the front seat.

As the bat dropped another few flowers in the backseat, they rained on Dale’s head. Foxglove blew a kiss to her favorite chipmunk as she turned widely to glide back to her position in the formation. Dale smiled and grimaced at the same time at her antics.

Monty just laughed, “Gyeah-ha-haaa! Buck up, pallie! At least we’ll be smellin’ loike flowers by the toime we land. We won’t need any bathin’ tonight.”

Dale mumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t rub it in.”

The tricky Aussie grabbed a flower and rubbed it forcefully into Dale’s headfur. “You mean loike this?”

The red-nosed one waved off his attack and yelled, “Hey! Cut that out! Gadget, Monty’s teasin’ me!”

A loud, genuine huff sounded from the pilot’s seat, heralding a tired, angry response. “Do you two want me to pull this thing over right now?”

The males in the back obeyed, “No, ma’am.”

Foxglove tsked to herself. She asked Zipper, “Do you think it’s because Chip had to stay behind?”

The brave fly squeaked and pantomimed a long answer involving the two rodents in question. Foxglove’s mind locked up as she tried to figure out the detective’s motives.

She queried, “But why wouldn’t he tell us his real reasons? We’re his friends. Gadget’s even more than that. He should at least tell her.”

The wise insect mimed the action of holding playing cards, and then pulled them close to his carapace.

Foxy sighed, “Men, always the hard way. Can’t he see it hurts her to not be his right-hand confidant? I never have that trouble with Dale. If he doesn’t tell me something, at least it means he doesn’t even have a plan.” Foxglove smiled to herself the whole way back to town. She had her ‘munk all figured out.

Up front, Gadget was thinking to herself, trying to sound her own theories off her own inner voice, which she tasked to be ‘Devil’s Advocate’. We know we have proof in town. We didn’t have the luxury of looking for proof earlier in the pipeline. If we could just isolate where the toxin starts, we can trace it back to the source and destroy it. I hope we have enough time to look before the entire water supply becomes too polluted to save. It would take a lot of work and time to create another aqueduct, even if that’s assuming that the main line isn’t the part polluted to begin with. Maybe Chip is staying behind to scientifically survey the cows to see if any of them are sick. Yes, that’s got to be it. He doesn’t have the equipment to test the water itself, so that has to be it. I just wish he would share his plans with me more often. How can I stop worrying about him if I don’t know what danger he could be facing? Ooohhh, that ‘munk!

Meanwhile, Chip and Wyler had walked across the openings of two canyons to the west of where Chip and Monty had picked the flowers. As they turned north to enter the canyon, Chip noticed something.

“You don’t have any buildings! None! Where does everybody live?”

Proud, Wyler pointed out the canyon walls to the outsider. If one looked really carefully, they could see several narrow crevices with various lengths of ladders going up and down the rock formation.

He said, “Those crevices lead into a large, internal cavern system. Partially natural, partially carved out. In this village, we like to live as our honored ancestors lived. There are several other villages in our tribe that are more ‘modern’. They even build their own transistor radios from parts they raid from humans.”

Wyler guided the leather-clad chipmunk over to a particular ladder that looked old with intermittent use and repair. After seeing it support the larger Panamint Chipmunk, Chip decided to ascend. After several levels of climbing, passing other rock squirrels, kangaroo rats, and Panamint Chipmunks, the pair emerged into a large hole dozens of human feet up the canyon wall.

The native guide brushed the dust out of his golden fur, motioning for Chip to do the same. He took off his hat and dusted it off first, then brushed his brown fur as clean as we could.

Chip asked, “Before we go in, is there anything I should know? Customs to do? Words to avoid? Gifts to give?”

The guide replied glibly, “You must construct a lightsaber. I’m kidding! Just pretend that you’re in someone’s home, which is not too far from the truth. This is a sacred space, where we talk to our ancestors and creator spirits. Some of the things in here are over a hundred years old and fragile. Some things can only be touched by Lonan, like the salt we collect from the Great Zuni Salt Lake not too far from here. It’s used to cleanse things and bring the attention of spirits. Just keep your hands to yourself unless you’re given something and you’ll be fine.”

Wyler opened the curtain slowly, calling out in his native language. A slow, raspy voice answered back in the same language. Chip tried to follow as best as he could, but was impossible. Chip’s linguistic skills were nearly first-rate, but this language seemed alien to him. He couldn’t even tell which words were nouns, or even verbs.

The Panamint Chipmunk led Chip inside the room. Inside, the room was large and very expertly carved. The shape of the room was a near-perfect three-dimensional oval, painted like the night sky, complete with star clusters. Chip couldn’t be sure, but he’d bet his bottom peanut that at least some of the constellations were identical to the ones overhead. There were several deep shelves carved into the base of the room, holding many items, such as woven tokens, dolls with strange faces, and a large bowl of salt.

Wyler explained, “Chip, this is Lonan. He’s our eldest citizen as well as our historian and shaman. I’ve explained what you want, but you need to fill him in on the details of the question you have.”

Lonan was also a Panamint Chipmunk, but he was Chip’s height and seemed to weigh a little bit less than Chip. It gave Lonan an appearance of being frail, but his eyes were just as clear as anyone’s.

Chip cleared his throat and spoke carefully, “Hello, my name is Chip and I’m a Rescue Ranger. I’m investigating the source of the Hoof’n’Mouth that sprung up in the tourist town southwest of here. Thank you for the flowers. Our doctor says he can make medicine with them. Also, I’m investigating the disappearance of cattle from the human ranch to the east of here. I know they haven’t been breaking out on their own. Humans come in from the desert and lead them away, but there’s no reason for them to do so. Also, the tracks end in the middle of a box canyon not too far from here.”

Chip paused, trying to find words that didn’t sound accusatory. He finished, saying, “I just want to know where the cattle went.”

Lonan’s smile widened and his raspy voice filled the oval-shaped room. “A Rescue Ranger? Wonderful! I’ve heard all about you from my nephew. He’s a journalism student at New Mexico State University. I like your group very much. You have a question to be answered? Well, let’s see what I can get from asking Spider Grandmother for you.”

The elder motioned everyone to sit in a wide circle. He reached into a crevice and pulled out a special stick, wrapped in twine and dyed a complicated set of colors. He sang serenely in his native language as he traced a large circle in the middle of the room. Then, he replaced the stick, careful not to step in the circle, and pulled out a handful of salt.

He sat at the side of the circle, singing the whole time. Suddenly, he flung the salt into the circle and smiled. Chip looked over to Wyler inquisitively. The guide put a claw to his lips, indicating silence.

Chip watched as Lonan sat and meditated for what seemed like a long time. Then, he softly sang a different song twice. As he opened his eyes, he looked at Chip.

Unnerved, the fedora-clad chipmunk asked, “Um, Lonan? Is everything okay?”

The shaman smiled and laughed serenely. He said, “Lone they are now. Once together, they gaze softly down upon you. They cry for the next, then depart for the before.”

The detective looked pleadingly at Wyler, who shrugged his shoulders, but nodded in encouragement. Chip asked, “What about the cattle? Where are the cattle?”

But the shaman had closed his eyes. He began singing in his indecipherable language again. Wyler moved over to whisper in Lonan’s ear. Lonan woke up with a start, asking questions.

The guide reassured him, and then helped him stand. He said to Chip, “Could you give us a minute alone? I’ll lead you back to your friends.”

Nodding his head, Chip left the room through the curtain. Idly, he wondered what the deal was with the circle and the salt. After a couple of minutes, Wyler came out and said, “Ready?”

Chip’s eyes snapped open as he startled. “R-ready? What about my help?”

Wyler arched his eyebrows and asked, “Did you not hear what he said?”

The detective scratched his headfur and said, “About someone looking down? Yes, I heard him, but I don’t understand.”

The guide shrugged his shoulders and said, “Sometimes it takes time to figure out spiritual signs, Chip. I suggest you write it down and contemplate it tonight while you dream.”

Much later, as the sun was approaching the horizon to the west, the Rangerwing set down next to Chip at the entrance to the canyon where Chip and Monty picked the flowers. The chipmunk tilted his hat upwards in surprise at only Gadget being in the Rangerwing. She also had a certain well-known look on her face.

Wyler winked, and then nudged Chip in the ribs, saying, “Looks like your girlfriend wants a word with you where you can’t back away from her before she’s done. Need backup, detective?” He gave Chip a smarmy grin.

The detective tugged his fedora down smartly, and then shook Wyler’s hand firmly. “I can handle Gadget by myself, thank you.” He tried to grimace his displeasure at the jibe.

However, Wyler only laughed loudly at the face. “Well, safe trip, Chip. You’ll need it! Ha, ha, ha!”

Chip jumped in the Rangerwing, he waved back at the guide. “Tell Lonan thanks for the message!” The Rangerwing lifted off, steering towards the southwest.

As Chip sit down, Gadget asked evenly, “Who was that?”

The chipmunk responded, “That was Wyler. He works with the Tribal Police and is a local guide. He let us take the flowers, which were on their land, by the way.”

She nodded, trying to take in this new development. After a minute, it was clear that Chip wasn’t going to volunteer any more information without prodding.

Tersely, she asked, “Well, did he help you?”

Chip recoiled in surprise since he wasn’t expecting a continuation. “Huh, what?”

The pilot repeated, “Did Wyler help you?”

The detective tried to evade the question, “Why do you think he helped me?”

Gadget narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth for a moment before sharply demanding, “Because when Foxglove told us that you were staying behind, she said you suggested that you and Wyler were going off to investigate something. Did you find out something?”

The chipmunk tugged his hat down and mumbled, “Yeah, something.”

Frustrated, Gadget slammed her fist on the console of the Rangerwing, shocking Chip with the thought of spontaneous crashing or something else really horrific.

She complained, “Chip, I don’t like your evasiveness! You’ve got to open up to me if you want this to work between us! I was worried sick about you wandering off in the uncharted desert at night all alone with a stranger I haven’t met yet. I mean the desert has been charted or mapped per say but my meaning is that I don’t know where you were or what path you took but I don’t know where Timbuktu is and I’m sure it exists and it’s mapped out somewhere but how could I find you if you got lost in a place I’ve never been to?”

Chip took her paw in his and asked, “Have I been that bad to you?”

Gadget blushed and said, “Well, not really. You haven’t been rude or condescending, but I just feel so left out! You keep giving us orders and not explaining why you’re doing the things you’re doing!”

The chipmunk smiled gently and offered, “I play my cards pretty close to my chest, huh?”

A smile crept across the face of the mouse as she nodded. The pair flew in silence, just enjoying each other’s company for a while.

Chip mentioned, “Wyler said he knew someone who could find the cattle. We went into his village to meet him. His name is Lonan.”

Interested, Gadget asked, “Who’s Lonan? Is he some detective or rancher?”

Taking a deep breath, the detective steeled his resolve and admitted, “Lonan’s a shaman. He prayed to his spirits for a clue to help me to find the cattle.”

Gadget snatched back her paw, gripping her headfur in frustration. She bemoaned, “A shaman?! A real mystic shaman? Praying to spirits? Chip, that’s not like you! You’d never wander off alone into a dangerous desert with a total stranger to do mystical things!”

The leather-clad chipmunk replied in a smooth voice, “You mean I’d never believe in a Djinni in a magic lamp?”

The mouse answered in a subdued voice, “Well, um…”

“Or assist the King of the Leprechauns free his brethren?”

“Uh…”

“Or lay a spirit to rest?”

“Oh, that…”

“Or visit a fortune-telling Gypsy Moth?”

“Okay, okay! I give! Did you learn anything from Lonan?”

Chip scratched his headfur under his hat and said, “Not much. He just came up with some poetry about how the cattle were looking down on me. I can’t figure out what it means, if it even means anything.”

Gadget offered, “Well, if they were looking down on you, they would be above you, either in the sky flying or up on top of the canyon.”

The detective wracked his brains over and over. It just didn’t make sense. Cattle can’t fly and they can’t climb the canyon walls. Funny, I never saw where the human tracks went. Maybe I’ll have to go back tomorrow morning and follow the human tracks lead. I don’t remember there being a ladder, so they would have to go up somehow. Like a rope or an elevator…or a helicopter…or a crane.

Suddenly, Chip reached over and stole a deep, full-mouthed kiss from Gadget. The blonde inventor jerked the control stick involuntarily, sending the Rangerwing into a sudden lurch. She corrected as Chip let out a whoop.

The mouse screamed at the chipmunk, “Chip, what’s gotten into you?!?! You could have sent us into a nosedive! Once minute you’re dark and mysterious, the next you walk off with strangers to mystical ceremonies, and now you’re cuh-razy! It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!”

Smiling widely, Chip answered, “Ever since coming on this vacation, I don’t think I knew myself. Not until after that gunfight in town did I discover a piece of myself that I’d been missing. You have to understand that for the longest time, I only had Dale for company. He’d be lost talking about the intricacies of casework or logic. I kept my thoughts to myself and debated with myself to solve puzzles. I’m just not used to openly discussing what I’m thinking or feeling very easily. But if you’re willing to forgive me, I’m willing to work on it. I need to start making time for myself so I don’t steal time away from you anymore.”

He picked up her hand again and kissed it delicately. She blushed a few shades of red under her fur. She decided that he was worth keeping after all.

The airplane landed in the center of town, flinging dust and sand in every direction. The town seemed empty as there was no visible activity. The two Rangers knew better, though. Gadget cut the power and jumped out of the pilot’s seat. Chip leaped out of the co-pilot’s seat and ran next to her.

She asked, “Where to now?”

He replied, “Take me to the Sheriff. We need get into City Hall right now and go through the Records Room again. If I’m right, there will be a human building on top of the canyon that should not be occupied. After that, we need to gather the others and recharge the Rangerwing. Tonight is the night another herd of cattle might be stolen!”

Later, under cover of darkness, the Rangerwing flew back towards the canyon where the cattle tracks disappeared. A pair of penlights, supercharged by Gadget, illuminated the way. The Rangers each carried two of the inventor’s kit-bashed portable lights with them.

The airplane sped right into the canyon, and then switched to hover mode as it reached the end wall and gained altitude. Dale began to stage whisper, “Agent Oakmont, your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to infiltrate a human research lab and discover their operations. If it is determined to be harmful to animal-kind, you will shut down said operation and leave no traces.”

Foxglove piped in, “Agent Foxglove, your mission is to assist your cutie-pie in any way he needs to rescue those missing animals. The Rangerwing will self-destruct in three seconds.”

Everyone except Chip and Gadget laughed at the speeches.

Gadget groaned and asked her favorite chipmunk, “Did Dale act like this when you two were little?”

Chip responded, “Constantly. I had to stuff cotton balls in my ears during sleepovers.”

Tammy interjected, “How did you figure out the cattle were lifted to the top of the canyon and that there was a human building there?”

The detective tugged on his hat and explained. “I was so overwhelmed with everything that happened in our vacation that happened that I overlooked a simple piece of logic. Thanks to Lonan and his um, ‘vision’, I was reminded of that little fact.”

Zipper squeaked and pantomimed for clarification.

Chip replied, “The cattle clearly did not go forward or go back home. They couldn’t go left, right, or downward. Therefore, they went up.”

The rugged Aussie questioned, “Up? ‘ow do ya figure that they went up? Cows can’t fly. Well, I did see an elephant fly once. That was back in ’87 when I took a left turn in Zimbabwe and wound up in tha middle of tha jungle…”

The leather-clad chipmunk interrupted, “The only way they could go up would be if either a helicopter or crane lifted them. A helicopter would be heard by the human ranch or at least detected by Air Traffic Control. So, I had the Sheriff show me copies of the human records for this area. Sure enough, there was a shaded area marked ‘U.S. Government Property’ on top of the canyon. It was marked ‘animal capture area’ by the rodent record-keepers and the oldest papers showed that the canyon served as a natural truck route for loading and unloading of cargo by crane.”

Gadget finished the thought, “So, it’s clear that the place is a research lab that needs to test substances out on animals. It was closed in ’92 and never re-opened. So that means some group of criminals are using it for doing illegal research on cattle that they steal from the local ranches. The government would love to arrest them since they’re trespassing, using government equipment, and developing diseases to be used as weapons.”

The Rangers steadied themselves in humility and quiet strength. It may very well be that they would discover horrible sights inside. The sight of animals who are dying or already dead from tailored diseases was definitely ‘not pretty’.

The Rangerwing crested the edge of the canyon to see a large, open area on top of the raised rock. Easily a hundred square acres, the area was mostly covered in rock and sand, except for a few square acres in the center, surrounded by a tall fence topped with barbed wire. In the center of the barbed wire was a moderately-sized building in faded, cracked white paint. A well-worn trail that led from the building, through a fence gate, to the edge of the canyon that the Rangerwing ascended, was overgrown with wild grass and weeds.

Gadget brought the Rangerwing over the fence and onto the roof of the building. The Rangers left the vehicle and gathered around the air conditioning unit. It was humming along merrily, doing its duty.

Monty rubbed his paws together in anticipation and boasted, “If’n ya got any plans ta make, make ‘em now!” He then grabbed the frame of the locked maintenance panel and began to tug it.

Tammy spoke up first. “Everyone be extra careful inside. If they make diseases here, then you can’t really be sure what’s contaminated or not. Obviously, an office with no lab equipment is okay, but anything that looks like it has chemicals should be treated as dangerous.”

Dale patted Foxglove on the shoulder, trying to calm the nervous bat. He added, “Also, make sure to keep out of sight of humans. This is NOT the place to get captured.”

The maintenance panel began to creak and groan. Monty flexed his powerful muscles and twisted. Zipper flew up to tug and pull with all his miniscule might in sympathy of Monty’s efforts. The panel turned, buckled, and then a popping sound was heard as it tore from its hinges.

The Rangers entered into the air conditioning unit. Monty tore off a vent grate, allowing the group access to the maze of ducting that delivered the cool air throughout the complex. They dropped down a level and looked around themselves, only to see that the floor below was larger and more expansive than the floor above.

Gadget said, “Golly, this place is build subterranean-pyramid style!”

Tammy asked, “What does that mean?”

Dale interjected, “It means this must be some super-secret underground complex. It could be dozens of floors down with only a little shack on top to fool enemy spies.”

Chip said, “Dale, don’t let your imagination run away with you again.”

Gadget objected, “Actually, Dale might be right. This place looks like it may have been used for disease research during the Cold War. What we’re looking for could be anywhere.”

Zipper buzzed and squeaked a thought. Monty rubbed his hands together in anticipation, agreeing, “Bonzah idea, mate. The head honcho’s office should have some kind of map or directory showin’ where everythin’ is. Let’s get lookin’.”

One by one, the group explored every section of air duct and every ventilation grate on the first level. Finally, they spotted a lavish office that seemed to still be in use. In fact, a human was sitting at the desk.

He didn’t seem to be a government worker. The black-and-gray camouflage clothing he wore as well as the walkie-talkie and pistol strapped to his belt seemed to suggest otherwise. He sat at his desk, reading report after report.

Chip ordered, “Zipper, get in there and see what you can find.”

The brave fly saluted and flew down into the room. He flew around aimlessly, constantly trying to find something useful. The human looked over at Zipper, who smiled and waved back. Unable to recognize such actions, the human went back to reading his reports.

Suddenly, his radio crackled to life. “Charlie-6 to Alpha-1, Charlie-6 to Alpha-1. The next batch of test gunk is ready. Meet us in Hot Room Three in five minutes. The next cattle are ready.”

The human spoke back into the radio, “Alpha-1, on my way.” He put down his reports and left the office.

Chip immediately issued orders, “Monty, take Tammy and Zipper and follow that human! When you get to the lab, try to free the cows!”

The robust Aussie ran back the way he came, trying to find the air vent next to the elevator. He called over his shoulder, “You can depend on us!”

Tammy cheekily added, “I’ll bet you a week of kitchen duty we finish before you do!” Zipper cheered and sped off to help his teammates.

The fedora-wearing chipmunk grabbed his best friend by the collar and ran off in the direction the others did, calling back to the others, “Find the radio room! Hotwire it and send a distress signal to alert the authorities!”

Gadget tried to object to the racing chipmunk, “But Chip, I think it’s better if you help me with something like that!” Neither chipmunk seemed to register what she said. The blonde inventor heaved a sigh and mumbled, “Chip, why do I get the feeling that you’re going to be the death of me?”

Foxglove patted her on the shoulder and chuckled, “Look on the bright side. At least he thinks you’re part of the team.”

The blonde mouse smirked and walked off with the light-furred bat back towards the room that had the most electronics.

Dale asked, “Where are we goin’?”

Chip replied, “We’re going to follow Monty’s team downstairs. When we get there, we’re going to split up and find the computer room. Even if we can’t get the authorities tonight, we’re at least going to set back their research to buy time.”

The pair skidded to a stop near a torn vent grate. They climbed out of the grate and into the hallway where the others were waiting.

Monty reported, “We were too late ta stop tha blighter before he got in tha elevator. We’re gonna hafta follow ‘im to tha third floor ourselves.” When the elevator arrived, the doors opened. The Ranger went inside and Zipper pushed the button for the third floor down.

The elevator chimed again, opening the doors. Two chipmunks, a mouse, a squirrel, and a fly exited, running around a corner in the hallway. A human guard, wearing black and gray camouflage, looked at the elevator expectantly. When the doors shut by themselves, he frowned and spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Charlie-2 to Bravo-2, the elevator’s acting up again. Tell the techs to fix it again. I’m going on break.”

Zipper flew around in a few circles, sniffing the air. He pointed down a hallway and squeaked. Tammy said, “The cattle are this way. How are we going to rescue them if they’re underground?”

Chip looked around for signs on the doors, trying to find ones that pointed towards the computer rooms. He absently said, “They got down here somehow. Try sending them back up the same way.”

Monty, Tammy, and Zipper ran off towards the animal smell. Chip and Dale ran off the other way. Chip was banking on the scientists preferring to crunch numbers well away from the smell of animals. After a few doors, Dale tugged on Chip’s jacket. Chip looked over to see pointing at a room marked ‘Mainframe’.

A smile played across the detective’s face as he said, “Perfect.”

The red-haired squirrel ran up to an open doorway, peeking around the corner. Inside, she saw a laboratory set up similar to a stable. A row of ten cows were penned into short, narrow cells side-by-side against the far wall. On the right stood several humans in lab coats, discussing the contents of the syringes they carried. On the nearby wall stood a pair of humans in black and gray camouflage, armed with machine pistols. They seemed really impatient. The left wall had computer equipment hooked up to medical scanners and security cameras.

When Monty and Zipper caught up to her, she panicked, “Monty! They’re about to inject those poor cows with the disease! We have to free them!”

The rugged Aussie looked into the room and decided, “I don’t see how they got them inside, so we need to distract them somehow.”

The noble fly trumpeted a charge and flew right up to the humans in lab coats. He buzzed in front of their eyes, and then landed on a syringe that one carried. He pretended to sniff at the exposed tip for a moment.

The human holding the syringe panicked, “Hey, there’s a fly in here!”

A second human in a lab coat said, “Yeah, so?”

The first human started to get agitated, “Well, these levels are supposed to be sterile! What if he touches the solution and gets the disease? He can spread this strain to us! Remember, we made it resistant to stomach acid so we’re not immune!”

Zipper adopted a wicked grin as he pantomimed that act of scooping the contents of the needle into his mouth. Then he buzzed right at the nearest human.

One of the soldiers complained, “C’mon, doc! Get on with the experiment! We’re bored waiting for you!”

The humans in lab coats dropped their syringes in panic. A couple of them shattered upon hitting the floor. The scientists panicked, running around in a blind rush. One of them cried out in terror, “It’s ‘Resident Evil’ all over again!”

A second scientist said, “Contamination!!! The fly is infected! Seal the level!”

That got the soldiers’ attention. The one in charge called out, “Evacuate! Seal off this level and stop the experiment! Everyone go to the DECON room upstairs!”

Zipper buzzed around several more heads, zooming close to their eyes just to stir up more trouble. Then, he called over to Tammy and Monty. The pair walked in with bemused looks on their faces.

Tammy ran over to the consoles, looking for the buttons to release the cattle.

Monty walked up to the penned cows gallantly, asking, “Good evening, ladies. Show of hooves, who’s from ‘round here? You’re a lovely audience! Now, ‘ow about ‘elping us rescue tha rest of you fine cows an’ get you ‘ome?”

Meanwhile, Foxglove and Gadget were in the radio room. Foxglove used her echolocation to home in on the sounds of electronics and radio waves. Gadget had picked the lock on the door using her tail. Now, Gadget was scrambling around, trying to bypass the security locks on the consoles without setting off any of the alarms. Foxglove felt useless at this point, so she decided to try to keep up conversation with the genius mouse. Unfortunately, this had the side-effect of distracting her, thus causing stress.

“Say Gadget, do you think Dale would like me in Hawaiian clothes?”

“I have no idea, Foxy.”

“I think I’d look slimmer in a nice blue print.”

“Switch off circuit 34-D, check.”

“I’m not a size thirty-four, Gadget.”

“Flowers are nice, Foxy.”

“Maybe we should throw a Hawaiian-themed party after we get back to headquarters. We can have pineapple snacks and dance hula together.”

“Where’s the darned ground wire on the key lock circuit?”

“I think Chip would go crazy about you if you wore a lei and grass skirt.”

“That reminds him of the time he almost died.”

“Why would grass skirts remind him of dying?”

“Then that capacitor levels out the voltage of the backup circuit.”

“Grass skirts shock him? Maybe you should wear something really daring.”

“You’re daring me to yank out this capacitor? I could get hurt!”

“Love is full of risk, Gadget. Sometimes you have to take a chance.”

ZZZAP!!!

“YOW!!!! Foxy, that hurt!”

“Yes, love hurts, Gadget.”

The blonde mouse came out from under the console and tapped a few buttons. She mentioned, “At least that deactivated the last safety. This emergency signal should bring the military running this way.”

The kind-hearted bat glanced at the paw Gadget was favoring. She said, “Did you shock yourself just now?”

Gadget read the displays, verifying that the Emergency Transponder was working full-tilt. Satisfied, she mentioned, “Yes, I didn’t think I could do it so quickly, but yanking that capacitor did the trick and saved me 10.672 minutes of work. Good idea, Foxy!”

Confused, Foxglove asked, “My idea? What idea? The party?”

Even more confused, Gadget asked, “What party?”

Both females returned to the Rangerwing thinking that the other was just as scatterbrained as Sparky sometimes.

Chip called out, “Alley!”

Dale ran towards him, lifting his footpaw in the air. “Oop!”

The black-nosed chipmunk boosted the red-nosed chipmunk up to the doorknob. When the red-nosed one let his body weight pull the handle down while the black-nosed one pushed the door open.

Inside were several workstations, all humming and running critical programs. Against the far room were several standing mainframes, running at full-tilt. On the left wall, there was an opening into a kitchen-like area. The smell of caffeine came from in there. The chipmunks ran around the room to hide behind a large CPU.

One of the three humans working in this room looked over at the door and grumbled, “Nothing works right in this place! Why can’t the repair techs keep the doors closed?”

A second one walked over to the break room. He said, “Be thankful! At least they moved us down this corridor instead of next to the animal pens like they originally had it. Fresh coffee’s done. You want a cup?”

Dale asked fretfully, “How do we get these guys outta here? We can’t run away from them and break the computers at the same time!”

Chip’s brain raced around, trying to come up with a plan. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking! Do you see a fire pull-alarm anywhere?”

Suddenly a warning klaxon sounded from out in the hallway. The chipmunks just stared at each other in confusion over who caused it. The humans had more direct responses.

“Help! Contamination!”

“The animals are loose! The animals are loose!”

“Power surge from the MCP! We have to get off this beam!”

The humans ran out of the room, screaming to be the first ones on the elevator upstairs. The sounds of the CPU fans brought the chipmunks back into focus as they stared at the backs of a dozen computers, full of vents.

Chip smiled devilishly and asked, “Regular or decaf?”

Dale mock scolded Chip, shaking his finger, “Now Chip, you know how cranky you get when you drink coffee. You take the decaf and this side of the room!”

Chuckling all the way, the chipmunks made several trips between the break room coffee pot and computers, using a lot of Styrofoam cups in the process.

Several minutes later, the Rangerwing left the canyon area, with laughter and high-fives all around. Spirits were high as they contemplated the looks on the faces of any military officers who come to answer the distress call to find a dozen cows grazing on top of the canyon, all of the branded with the sign of a local ranch.

Inside, they would find a few dozen wanted men, all international mercenaries that were either soldiers or scientists for hire. These men would be locked up in a vault on the second floor down, trembling in fear about infection from their own creation.

They would also find the enhanced Hoof’n’Mouth virus that was contagious to humans as well. Although the computers were wrecked, their inner workings drenched in hot coffee, they would find more than enough paper documentation to jail these men for life.

As the Rangerwing left the canyon behind, the Rangers looked back to see three CH-47 Chinook helicopters, carrying troops to secure the abandoned research center from the emergency beacon they had received, were now visible on the horizon.

Well wishes were spread all around as Gadget sighted the animal town ahead of her. The Rangers basked quietly in the afterglow of a job well done. They all were tired from the series of disasters they helped to avert. Well, all but one was tired.

“Great job, everyone! I knew that this vacation could turn out exciting! We just saved everyone in the entire area, maybe even thousands of humans, too! I can’t wait to get back home and get back into the normal routine!” Chip tugged his jacket in pride.

Several groans sounded from the backseat. How could anyone gain energy from running around and solving mysteries? Desperately, the others tried to come up with an idea to buy them a little more time to relax after they got home.

Dale shouted, “Gadget?! Can’t you do something about Chip?”

The pilot retorted, “Me? What did I do? All I did was made him happy!”

Monty explained, “Well, yeah. We did ask ya to loighten his mood, but ya went an’ made it too good!”

Zipper buzzed and squeaked to Gadget about her personal responsibilities.

Tammy finished, “Yeah, Zip! If she makes Chip this happy, then he’ll work us to death when we get back home! She’ll have to keep him occupied while we recover!”

Chip took off his hat and glared at the others. He barked at them, “Now you leave Gadget alone! She didn’t do anything wrong!” This silenced the others, who wondered if they went too far.

Gadget closed the argument by stating her point of view. “That’s right! I did what any reliable girlfriend would do in my situation. Now, it’s Chip’s turn.”

Everyone looked over at her, wondering just what EXACTLY she meant.

She concluded, “Don’t worry about Chip. He’s gonna be a very busy boy making ME happy when we get back home.”

THE END