CHAPTER XWINKIE IS IN DANGER
Alice followed her brother, also dropping her books on the path that led around the house. What did a few school books matter when Winkie, the wily woodchuck, was in danger?
And that’s just what Winkie was—in great danger. Buster, the big dog belonging to Uncle Elias Tottle, had come over, all by himself, and was trying to tear some boards off the pen so that he might get in at Winkie.
“Here! Get away from there, Buster!” cried Larry.
“Go away! Go away, you bad dog!” shrieked Alice.
Buster had not expected to see the children, and when they came running around the corner of the house the dog was evidently surprised. He stopped barking at once and his tail dropped between his legs, as always happens with dogs when they are caught doing something they ought not to do.
And this is what had happened to Buster.Finding nothing special to do at the farm of Mr. Tottle, Buster had wandered over the fields to the home of Larry and Alice. Buster had not been over to see the children for some time, and he may have forgotten all about the woodchuck in a pen in the back yard.
But Buster had no sooner come close to the yard than the wind blew to him the wild smell of Winkie, for, like most animals, Winkie had a wild smell about her, and a dog’s nose is very keen for smelling.
“Oh, ho!” thought Buster to himself, in a way dogs have of thinking. “That woodchuck! I forgot all about her! Guess I’ll go and tease her, as I haven’t anything else to do!”
With a loud bark Buster made his way into the yard. As it happened, Mrs. Dawson was not home just then, or she would have driven Buster away. But the children’s mother had gone to call on a neighbor, and Buster had everything his own way.
“Now I’ll get you!” cried the dog in animal language, as he made a dash against Winkie’s pen.
“Stop! Stop! Go on away! Let me alone!” begged Winkie, whistling and chattering her teeth, because she was so frightened.
“Oh, I’m not going to hurt you! I’m just going to chase you out of that pen and make yourun!” said Buster. “I like to chase rabbits and other wild animals. I won’t bite you. I just want to chase you! Come on out!”
“No! No! I’m not coming out!” declared Winkie. “You aren’t nice like Don!”
“Pooh! I wouldn’t be a dog like Don—afraid to chase a rabbit or a squirrel!” sneered Buster. “I’m going to chase you, and if you don’t come out I’ll make you!”
“No, I’m not coming out!” chattered Winkie, and she ran into her sleeping box to hide in the hay.
“I’ll break open your pen and chase you out!” barked Buster. And the dog was trying to do this when Larry and Alice came home from school.
“Make Buster go away, Larry!” half sobbed Alice. “He won’t go for me! Oh, Buster, go away!”
“I’ll make him!” cried Larry, and he stooped over as if to pick up a stone or a stick. I don’t believe that Larry would really have stoned Buster, or have struck him with a stick, any more than I believe Buster would have bitten Winkie. But the boy knew he had to do something to make Buster run away, and pretending to pick up a stone was one of the best ways.
She came out of her pen and did her tricks.
She came out of her pen and did her tricks.
Away ran Buster, with his tail between his legs, giving a little howl as he ran, as much as to say:
“Don’t throw anything at me! I was only in fun!”
But this was the kind of fun Larry didn’t want Buster to have with the woodchuck, and it was time the dog learned this.
“Is Winkie all right?” asked Alice, as Larry looked into the pen.
“Yes, I guess Buster didn’t do any more than scare her,” the boy answered. And indeed poor Winkie’s heart was beating very fast, for she was dreadfully frightened.
But when she saw Larry and Alice, and heard the kind voices of the children, and smelled the sweet carrot pieces they brought her, Winkie was no longer frightened.She came out of her penwhen Larry opened the door,and did her tricksfor the boy and his sister.
“It’s a good thing Buster didn’t open the pen door,” said Alice, as she stroked Winkie’s head. “What are we going to do, Larry? If we leave Winkie in her pen, Buster may come over to-morrow when we’re at school and bite her.”
“I’m going to get daddy to speak to Uncle Elias about his dog,” said the boy. “I like Buster, and he’s a good dog; but we can’t have him chasing over here and scaring our woodchuck. I’m going to make him stop.”
That night Mr. Dawson spoke to his brother-in-law about Buster, telling the farmer how the dog had nearly caught the woodchuck.
“I wish Buster really had caught that ground-hog!” exclaimed the uncle. “Woodchucks are a nuisance. They spoil my clover crop. A lot of ’em had burrows in my meadow. But I plowed the place up, and I blasted out a lot of rocks and stumps and now the pesky creatures have cleared out.”
“I should think they would,” said Mr. Dawson. “I hope none of them were killed.”
“I wish they were all killed!” snarled Mr. Tottle. “And if your children will sell their woodchuck for two dollars I’ll buy her and let Buster chase her.”
“I don’t believe Larry and Alice will sell Winkie,” said Mr. Dawson.
Mr. Tottle came to them the next day and offered two dollars for Winkie.
“Let me take her,” said Uncle Elias with a grin, “and you’ll never have to bother to feed her again.”
“Oh, but we like to feed her,” said Alice.
One day Uncle Elias came over to the Dawson home very much excited.
“There! What did I tell you!” he cried. “A lot of my clover’s been spoiled by your woodchuck!”
“It couldn’t be by Winkie,” said Larry, who was just then making his pet do some of her tricks. “She hasn’t been out of her pen for a week, except just in our yard. She couldn’t have taken any of your clover!”
“Well, some pesky ground-hog did!” stormed the farmer. “And I’m going to pay ’em back!”
“Oh, what are you going to do?” asked Alice.
“Never you mind!” snapped her uncle. “But I’ll fix these woodchucks!”
He hurried away, muttering to himself. That night Winkie was in danger again. After ten o’clock, when it was quite dark, Elias Tottle left his home and with a big club in his hand walked across the field toward the home of his sister, where Winkie slept in her pen.
“I’ll fix that woodchuck!” muttered Mr. Tottle to himself. “I’ll fix her!”