Green Meadow Stories, Thornton W. Burgess [read people like a book .txt] 📗

Brown’s dooryard. Of course Bowser wasn’t to be seen. Sammy hung around and watched. Twice he saw Farmer Brown’s boy come to the door with a worried look on his face and heard him whistle and call for Bowser. Then there wasn’t the slightest doubt in Sammy’s mind that something had happened to Bowser.

“Old Man Coyote knows something about it, too,” muttered Sammy, as he turned his head on one side and scratched his pointed cap thoughtfully. “He can’t fool me. That old rascal knows where Bowser is, or what has happened to him, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he had something to do with it. I almost know he did from the way he grinned.”

The day was not half over before all through the Green Forest and over the Green Meadows had spread the report that Bowser the Hound was no more.

X How Reddy Fox Investigated

Invest-i-gate if you would know
That something is or isn’t so.

Bowser the Hound

To invest-i-gate something means to try to find out about it. Reddy Fox had heard from so many different ones about the disappearance of Bowser that he finally made up his mind that he would invest-i-gate and find out for himself if it were true that Bowser was no longer at home in Farmer Brown’s dooryard. If it were true⁠—well, Reddy had certain plans of his own in regard to Farmer Brown’s henhouse.

Reddy had begun by doubting that story because it seemed to have come first from Old Man Coyote. Reddy would doubt anything with which Old Man Coyote was concerned. But Reddy had finally come to believe that something certainly had happened because half a dozen times during the day he had heard Farmer Brown’s boy whistle and whistle and call and call.

Just as soon as the Black Shadows came creeping out from the Purple Hills, Reddy started up towards Farmer Brown’s. He didn’t go directly there, because he never goes directly anywhere if there is the least chance in the world that anyone may be watching him. But as he slipped along in the blackest of the Black Shadows, he was all the time working nearer and nearer to Farmer Brown’s dooryard. Although he was inclined to think it was true that Bowser was not there, he was far too wise to take any unnecessary risk. He approached Farmer Brown’s dooryard just as carefully as if he knew Bowser to be in his little house as usual. He kept in the Black Shadows. He crouched so low that he seemed hardly more than a Black Shadow himself. Every two or three steps he stopped to look, listen, and test the air with his keen nose.

As he drew near Bowser’s own little house, Reddy circled out around it until he could see the doorway. Then he sat down where he could peek around from behind a tree and watch. He had been there only a few moments when the back door of Farmer Brown’s house opened and Farmer Brown’s boy stepped out. Reddy didn’t run. He knew that Farmer Brown’s boy would never dream that he would dare come so near. Besides, it was very clear that Farmer Brown’s boy was thinking of no one but Bowser. He whistled and called just as he had done several times during the day. But no Bowser came, so after a while Farmer Brown’s boy went back into the house. There was a worried look on his face.

As soon as he heard the door close, Reddy trotted right out in the open and sat down only a few feet from the black doorway of Bowser’s little house. Reddy barked softly. Then he barked a little louder. He knew that if Bowser were at home, that bark would bring him out if nothing else did. Bowser didn’t appear. Reddy grinned. He was sure now that Bowser was nowhere about. Chuckling to himself, he turned and trotted towards Farmer Brown’s henhouse.

XI A Little Unpleasantness

Watch a Coyote most closely when it appears that he least needs watching.

Bowser the Hound

Never in his life had Reddy Fox visited Farmer Brown’s henhouse with quite such a comfortable feeling as he now had. He knew for a certainty that Bowser the Hound was not at home. He knew because he had finally crept up and peeped in the door of Bowser’s little house. What had become of Bowser he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. It was enough to know that he wasn’t about.

“I hope Farmer Brown’s boy has forgotten to close that little doorway where the hens run in and out,” muttered Reddy, as he trotted across Farmer Brown’s dooryard. Once he stopped, and looking up at the lighted windows of the house, grinned. You see, with Bowser gone, Reddy wasn’t the least bit afraid.

“If I can get into that henhouse,” thought Reddy, “I certainly will have one good feast tonight. That is, I will if those stupid hens are not roosting so high that I can’t get them. I’ll eat one right there.” Reddy’s mouth watered at the very thought. “Then I’ll take one home to Mrs. Reddy. If there is time we both will come back for a couple more.”

So Reddy made pleasant plans as he approached Farmer Brown’s henhouse. When he reached it he paused to listen to certain sounds within, certain fretful little cluckings. Reddy sat down for a minute with his tongue hanging out and the water actually dripping from it. He could shut his eyes and see those roosts with the hens crowded together so that every once in a while one would be wakened and fretfully protest against being crowded so.

But Reddy sat there only for a minute. He was too eager to find out if it would prove to be possible to get inside that henhouse. Running swiftly but cautiously past the henhouse and along one side of the henyard, he peeped around the corner to see if by any