He had no sooner run her to earth once more than he found Billy for the second time.
"This is a twin brother of the fellow I chased home once before," Spot panted, little dreaming that Billy Woodchuck had come back into the daylight.
"This twin is just as spry as the other one was," Spot gasped as he reached for Billy right at his door—and missed him.
After that the old dog chased Mr. Woodchuck, then his wife, and next their son Billy Woodchuck. And he didn't succeed in catching any one of the three. Each of them beat him in the race to the Woodchuck family's front door.
Old Spot began to feel quite upset.
"I don't see what the matter with me to-day," he puzzled. "I hope I'm not getting so old that I'm weeble." (By that he meant weak and feeble.)
"This last one makes eight that I've followed all the way to this door," Spot growled. "There can't be many more left in the pasture. I'm going to lie down behind this hummock and wait till they come out."
So he hid a little way off and watched closely.
He had been there a long time when Mr. Crow at last flew low over the pasture and alighted in a tree near-by.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked Spot.