He had scarcely closed his eyes when a faint "Gobble, gobble, gobble" from across the cornfield drove all idea of sleep out of his head. He started up, stretched his long neck as high as he could, and burst forth with a deafening "Gobble, gobble, gobble!" Then he paused and listened.
The answer soon reached him. It was nearer this time. And after Turkey Proudfoot had repeated his interesting remark about a dozen times a huge old turkey cock came running up and alighted, panting, upon the fence-rail where Turkey Proudfoot was roosting.
"You're late," Turkey Proudfoot greeted him. "I'd begun to fear that you had met with an accident. What kept you?"
"They shut me up in a pen," the newcomer told him. He was still somewhat out of breath, partly because of rage at having been imprisoned, partly because he had been hurrying. "They shut me up two days ago," he explained.
"Ah!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "You ought to have left home three days ago. Did you forget our yearly meeting?"
"No!" said the other. "But I must have miscounted the days."
"That's very dangerous at this time of year," Turkey Proudfoot replied. "It's a wonder that you escaped from the pen. How did you manage to slip out!"
"Somebody left the door ajar," said the strange turkey.