“Now where is the old robber going?” the Weathercock asked himself, as he swung to and fro on his gilded toe.
He needn’t have asked that question, though, for just then he spied Little Jack Rabbit and a second later, Danny Fox.
“Dear, dear me!” thought the kind Weathercock, “I don’t want that wicked fox to catch that nice little bunny. What shall I do?”
All of a sudden he remembered the radio. On top of the Big Red Barn the Farmer’s Boy had fastened a set of wires which led down to his little room in the loft.
“Hello! hello!” shouted the Weathercock. “Danny Fox is after Little Jack Rabbit!”
The Farmer’s Boy must have heard him, for out of bed he jumped to call through the transmitter:
“Danny Fox is after Little Jack Rabbit! Danny Fox is out hunting!”
“Ha, ha!” exclaimed the Policeman Dog, as the message rang out in the Station House and, picking up his club, off he started for the Shady Forest.
Just then a soft voice whispered from the treetop:
“Danny Fox is close to the heels of Little Jack Rabbit.”