such pleasant sight would have greeted Benny's eyes. And on this evening he wanted to find some such reward when his digging came to an end.

He knew as well as he knew anything in the world that newly scattered earth never lay strewn about the doorway of an old hole.

And that was the reason he passed by so many holes with hardly more than a swift glance.

But when at length he found what he had been looking for—a hole with fresh brown dirt scattered carelessly around it—Benny Badger showed by every one of his actions that he didn't intend to move on until he had burrowed to the very end of it.

A broad smile lighted up his queerly marked face. At least, he opened his mouth and showed a good many of his teeth. And a bright, eager glint came into his eyes; whereas they had had a somewhat wistful look before, as if their owner might have been hungry, and didn't exactly know where he was going to find a meal.

Then Benny Badger looked all around, to see whether anybody might be watching him. But there was no one in sight. And if there had been, Benny Badger would have done no more than tell him that he had better run along about his business, because it would do him no good to wait—none at all.

And if the onlooker had happened to come so near as to bother Benny in what he intended to do, that unfortunate person might have wished that he had taken a bit of friendly advice in time, and made himself scarce.

But, of course, Benny Badger was not so foolish as to give any such warning, for there was no one there to hear it.

III

NO ONE AT HOME

Since there seemed to be nobody lurking in the shadows around him, and watching him, Benny Badger turned to the ground squirrel's hole and began to dig. How he did make the dirt fly! He scooped it up with his big feet and flung it back in a shower, not caring in the least where it fell. For he was interested not in what lay behind, but before him.

In almost less time than it takes to tell about it, Benny Badger had made the entrance of the tunnel so big that it swallowed his head and shoulders.

Now, when some people do anything they are forever stopping to see how much they have finished, as if they hated to work and wished that they didn't have to. But Benny Badger was not like them. He loved to dig. And instead of wishing that it wasn't far to the ground squirrel's chamber he kept hoping that it was a good, long tunnel, so that he might have plenty of fun digging his way to the end of it.

He didn't pause to look back at the pile of dirt he had thrown behind him. In fact, he didn't stop for anything—not even to take a long breath—until he noticed a sound that made him pause and listen for a few moments.

It was a yapping, growling noise that caught Benny Badger's ear—a noise that changed, while he listened, to a howl, and then suddenly ended as it had begun.

That call, coming as it did out of the night, would have frightened many people. Not knowing just what it was, they might have thought it sounded like the cry of a wolf. But Benny Badger showed not the least sign of fear. On the contrary, he seemed almost angry with himself because he had stopped even for a few moments to listen.

"Oh, fudge!" he said—or something a good deal like that. "It's nothing but a Coyote."

And then he went to digging faster than ever, to make up for lost time.

He hadn't been working long after that when Mr. Coyote's call made him back out of the hole and listen once more.

"Shucks!" said Benny Badger—or something like that, anyhow. "He's coming this way."

Anyone could have seen that Benny Badger was not pleased. But he continued his work just the same. And he made the dirt fly even more furiously than before, because he wanted to reach the end of the ground squirrel's tunnel before Mr. Coyote arrived on the scene.

It happened that Mr. Coyote was stalking slowly across the country in the moonlight, headed for no place in particular. So Benny Badger had time to burrow his way to the ground squirrel's bedroom without being interrupted.

And then Benny met with a sad disappointment. The owner of the burrow was not at home! Benny knew that he could not have been gone long, because the bed of dried grasses was still warm.

It was plain that Mr. Ground Squirrel had awakened and heard the sound of Benny Badger's digging. And there was no doubt that he had sprung up in a hurry and rushed out of his back door, while Benny made his way through the front one.

Benny Badger tried to console himself with the thought that anyhow he had had the fun of digging. But he was very hungry. And there was no supper in sight anywhere.

He was just about to renew his search for fresh ground squirrels' holes, when who should appear but Mr. Coyote himself, with a knowing smile upon his narrow face.

IV

MR. COYOTE SINGS

Benny Badger was not at all glad to see Mr. Coyote. And after Benny's ill luck, the smile upon Mr. Coyote's face made the disappointed digger feel almost peevish.

"What a beautiful evening it is!" said Mr. Coyote. "And what a fine night for digging!"

Benny Badger glared at the newcomer, making no attempt to hide his displeasure at seeing him.

"I don't notice you doing any digging," he remarked with a sneer. He had no use for Mr. Coyote, and he did not mind letting that tricky fellow know it, either.

But Mr. Coyote was not one to take a hint. If he knew he wasn't wanted anywhere, it never made the slightest difference to him. And when Benny as much as told him that he was too lazy to dig a hole, Mr. Coyote did not lose his temper even for a moment.

"No—I seldom dig," he replied. "I don't want to spoil your fun. If I went to work and dug and dug anywhere and everywhere there'd soon be nothing but holes, no matter where you went. You'd have no place to dig a hole yourself. And then you'd be pretty unhappy."

Benny Badger hadn't thought of that. And he didn't know just what to say, because if Mr. Coyote meant what he said, Benny wanted to say something pleasant; and if Mr. Coyote was only joking, Benny wanted to say something disagreeable. But before Benny had made up his mind how to reply to Mr. Coyote's remark, his noisy friend began talking again.

"Besides," Mr. Coyote added, "I haven't time for digging, because I have to practice singing.... If you don't mind, I'll practice a song right now."

And without waiting to find out whether Benny Badger did mind or not, Mr. Coyote began singing in the harshest of voices: