when reddy fox had turned his back on the half-eaten chicken that he had found hidden in a bunch of grass and bushes on the green meadows it had been the hardest thing to do that reddy could remember, for his stomach fairly ached, he was so hungry. but there might be danger there, and it was best to be safe. so reddy turned and trotted away where he could neither see nor smell that chicken. he caught some grasshoppers, and he found a family of fat beetles. they were not very filling, but they were better than nothing. after a while he felt better, and he curled up in a warm sunny spot to rest and think. “it may be that farmer brown's boy has set a trap there,” said reddy to himself. then he remembered that the chicken was half-eaten, and he knew that it wasn't likely that farmer brown's boy would have a half-eaten chicken unless he had found one that jimmy skunk had left near the hen-yard, and for some reason he didn't know, he had a feeling that jimmy skunk had not had anything to do with that chicken. the more he thought about it, the more he felt sure that that chicken had something to do with the stranger whose voice had brought so much fear to the green meadows. the very thought made him nervous and spoiled his sun-bath.

“i believe i'll run over and see bobby coon,” said reddy, and off he started for the green forest.

bobby coon bad been out all night, but he had not been very far away from his hollow-tree, because he too had felt little chills of fear when he heard that strange voice, which wasn't the voice of hooty the owl or of dippy the loon or of a little yelping dog and yet sounded something like all three together. so bobby's stomach wasn't as full as usual, and he felt cross and uncomfortable. you know it is hard work to feel hungry and pleasant at the same time. he had just begun to doze when he heard reddy fox calling softly at the foot of the tree.

“bobby! bobby coon!” called reddy.

bobby didn't answer. he kept perfectly still to try to make reddy think that he was asleep. but reddy kept right on calling. finally bobby scrambled up to the doorway of his house in the big hollow-tree and scowled down at reddy fox.

“well, what is it?” he snapped crossly. “you ought to be ashamed of yourself to disturb people who are trying to get a little honest sleep.”

reddy grinned. “i'm very sorry to wake you up, bobby coon,” said reddy, “but you see i want your advice. i know that there is no one smarter than you, and i have just discovered something very important about which i want to know what you think.”

the scowl disappeared from bobby coon's face. he felt very much flattered, just as reddy meant that he should feel, and he tried to look very important and wise as he said:

“i'm listening, reddy fox. what is it that is so important?”

then reddy told him all about the half-eaten chicken over on the green meadows, and how he suspected that the stranger with the terrible voice had had something to do with it. bobby listened gravely.

“pooh!” said he. “probably jimmy skunk knows something about it.”

“no,” replied reddy, “i'm sure that jimmy skunk doesn't know anything about it. come over with me and see it for yourself.”

bobby began to back down into his house. “you'll have to excuse me this morning, reddy fox. you see, i'm very tired and need sleep,” said he.

reddy turned his head aside to hide a smile, for he knew that bobby was afraid.

“i'm sure it must have been jimmy skunk,” continued bobby. “why don't you go ask him? i never like to meddle with other people's business.”

and with that bobby coon backed down out of sight in the hollow-tree.