next moment he was gone.

Benny Badger stood and watched him as he loped off across the moonlit plain. And not long afterward a terrific racket—twice as loud as the one before—made Benny bury his head in the place where he had been digging.

"Mr. Coyote has joined his six brothers," he said to himself.

VII

MR. COYOTE REMEMBERS

The next evening, just at dusk, Benny Badger left his den and set forth on his usual nightly ramble.

By way of exercise, and for the sake of the fun it gave him, and to improve his appetite, he dug a few holes. And by the time it was dark he was hungry as a bear and ready to look once more for fresh holes made by Ground Squirrels.

He had decided not to wait for Mr. Coyote to join him, before beginning his search. And he even hoped that Mr. Coyote had forgotten all about his promise to meet him and help him hunt.

But Benny Badger was to have no such good fortune as that. It was not long before he heard Mr. Coyote calling to him. And though he made no answer, thinking that Mr. Coyote might not be able to find him, in a few minutes that sharp-faced gentleman came bounding up at top speed.

"Here I am!" he cried, as soon as he spied Benny Badger. "I see you started out without waiting for me. You didn't think I'd disappoint you, did you?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't," Benny answered—a remark that Mr. Coyote seemed not to understand. For a moment or two he looked somewhat puzzled. But he decided, evidently, that Benny meant to be pleasant, but didn't know how to be.

"Now, then," Mr. Coyote said, while Benny Badger shuddered at his harsh voice, "now then, where do you think we'd better look for a hole?"

"For pity's sake, don't howl so loud!" Benny Badger besought him. "You'll waken all the Ground Squirrels in the neighborhood if you're so noisy."

"Pardon me!" said Mr. Coyote very meekly, lowering his voice, but promptly raising it again. "Do you know of any fresh holes around here?"

Benny Badger said that he didn't.

"Then you'd better hunt for one at once," Mr. Coyote declared, sitting down on his haunches as if he hadn't the slightest notion of doing any of the searching himself. "While you're looking, I'll sing a little song," he announced.

"You needn't trouble yourself to do that," Benny Badger told him hastily.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, I assure you," Mr. Coyote replied.

"Well—don't you do it, anyhow," Benny warned him. "If you sing, you'll spoil everything, because I shall not be able to look for any hole."

"I see," said Mr. Coyote, looking more than pleased. "You'd want to stop and listen to me, of course."

"It's not that," Benny Badger corrected him. "I may as well tell you that I don't like your songs at all."

"I have some that you've never heard," Mr. Coyote explained.

"I don't want to hear them," Benny Badger informed him. "I may as well tell you that your songs drive me almost crazy."

It would not have been surprising if Mr. Coyote had flown into a great rage. But he did not. Instead, he pretended to wipe a tear away from each of his eyes. "It's a pity"—he sighed—"it's a pity that you don't understand music. Some time I will teach you to sing—with the help of my six brothers."

Benny Badger showed no joy over that promise. But he felt relieved when Mr. Coyote agreed not to sing that night. And then Benny set out alone to look for a fresh Ground Squirrel's hole, leaving Mr. Coyote with his face hidden in his pocket-handkerchief.

VIII

A WATCHER AND A WORKER

Benny Badger searched for some time before he found a Ground Squirrel's hole that looked as if its owner had finished it only a day or two before.

The place was so far from the spot where Benny had left Mr. Coyote that he did not believe he could call loudly enough for his helper to hear him.

For a few moments Benny thought that perhaps he ought to go back and tell Mr. Coyote that he had found a good place to dig. But he soon changed his mind.

"I'll just begin digging and say nothing," he remarked to himself. "And perhaps I can catch this Ground Squirrel without Mr. Coyote's help."

So he set to work. But he hadn't dug very far into the hole before he heard Mr. Coyote's voice close behind him. That sly fellow had been following him all the time.

"I hope the owner of this hole is at home," Mr. Coyote ventured.

At those words Benny Badger backed out of the hole and turned around.

"I'll let you dig a while," he said generously.

Mr. Coyote thanked him. But he answered that he couldn't think of accepting Benny Badger's offer.

"I know you would be disappointed not to do the digging yourself," he explained. "And besides, you're a better digger than I am. So I'll let you tear this tunnel open, while I go around to the back door and watch.... You know, I have a very sharp eye."

Benny Badger looked at Mr. Coyote narrowly. It occurred to him that both Mr. Coyote's eyes were very sharp. Furthermore, his nose was sharp, too. And so were his teeth. Yes! on the whole, Benny thought, Mr. Coyote appeared to be an exceedingly sharp person.

"Very well!" Benny told him at last. "I'll do the digging, gladly—for I need the practice that it will give me. You see, I haven't dug more than a half-dozen holes to-night."

Then he thrust his head into the opening he had already made. But before he had begun to throw more dirt behind him he pulled his head out again and called to his helper, who had moved a few steps away.

"If the Ground Squirrel comes out through his back door, please call me at once!" he cried.

Mr. Coyote nodded his head over his shoulder and smiled.

"I will," he agreed. "And I'll ask you not to forget to dig hard, because you know I'll be watching hard. And it wouldn't be fair for one of us to do less work than the other."

Benny Badger replied that in his opinion Mr. Coyote's statement was in every way reasonable.

And then he began to dig.

Benny would have made better time had he not stopped every few minutes to listen; for he did not want to miss hearing Mr. Coyote's call.

But his ears caught nothing more than a chuckle from the spot where Mr. Coyote sat on his haunches in the grass, watching.

"I can stand his chuckling—if only he won't sing!" Benny said to himself.

IX

A CARELESS HELPER

Stopping often to listen, Benny Badger did not reach the Ground Squirrel's chamber half as quickly as he could have had he done nothing but dig.

And when he thrust his nose into the underground bedroom he found nobody at home. The Ground Squirrel had fled, leaving his nest so warm that Benny Badger knew he could not have been gone long.

Benny turned away. But he was not so disappointed as he might have been, for he remembered that Mr. Coyote was watching the back door. And certainly no Ground Squirrel could escape his sharp eyes.

Hurrying as fast as his short legs would carry him, Benny joined Mr. Coyote, who still sat comfortably on his haunches.

To Benny's