o ld man coyote's call was very much like that of reddy fox. he was very, very pleasant and told bob white that he was very glad indeed that bob had come over on the green meadows, and he hoped that he would stay. no one could have been more polite than was old man coyote. bob white was just as polite, but he wasn't fooled. no, indeed. he knew that, just like reddy fox, the reason old man coyote was so glad to see him was because he hoped to catch him some fine day. but bob white didn't let a little thing like that bother him. ever since he could remember he had been hunted. that was why he had taken the precaution to sit on a fence-post when he whistled. up there neither old man coyote nor reddy fox could reach him. just after old man coyote left bob white saw some one else headed his way, and this time he didn't wait. you see it was redtail the hawk, and a fence-post was no place to receive a call from him.

spreading his wings bob white flew across to the dear old briar-patch and dropped in among the brambles close to where peter rabbit was sitting. “you didn't expect me to return your call so soon, did you, peter?” said he.

“no,” replied peter, “but i'm ever so glad to see you just the same. did you have a pleasant call from reddy fox?”

“very,” replied bob white with a chuckle. “he was ever so glad to see me. so was old man coyote. i didn't wait to see what old redtail would say, but i have a feeling that he would have liked better to have seen me a little nearer. you see, peter, you are not the only one who has to keep his eyes open and his wits about him all the time. there are just as many looking for me as for you, but i don't allow that to make me any the less cheerful. every time i whistle 1 know that some one is going to come looking for me, but i whistle just the same. i just have to, because in spite of all its troubles life is worth living and full of happiness. now i've got a secret to tell you.”

“what is it?” asked peter eagerly. “promise not to tell a single soul,” commanded bob white.

“can't i tell mrs. peter? i never keep secrets from her you know,” replied peter.

“well, you may tell her, but she must promise to keep it secret,” said bob.

“i'll promise for her and for myself,” declared peter. “what is it?”

“i've decided to come over here to live,” replied bob white.

“right here in the old briar-patch?” asked peter excitedly.

“no, but not far from here,” replied bob white. “i'm going back to the old pasture after mrs. bob, and we are going to build a home right away.”

“goody!” cried peter, clapping his hands. “where are you going to build?”

“that,” replied bob white, “is for mrs. bob to decide.”

“and when she does you'll tell me where it is so that i can come over and call, won't you?” cried peter.

“that depends,” replied bob white. “you know there are some things it is better not to know.”

“no, i don't know,” retorted peter. “i'm your friend, and i don't see what harm it could do for me to know where your home is.”

“without meaning to friends sometimes do the most harm of any one, especially if they talk too much,” replied bob white. “now the way is clear and i must hurry back to the old pasture to tell mrs. bob how nice it is here.” and with this away he flew.

“now what did he mean by friends who talk too much,” muttered peter. “could he have meant me?”