“Espy Ransom,” said Phonny. “He lives down by the mill. He is always setting traps for squirrels. I suppose that this road goes down to the mill, and that he came up here and set his trap. But it won’t do to leave the squirrel here,” continued Phonny, looking at Wallace in a very earnest manner. “It never will do in the world.”
“What shall we do, then?” asked Wallace.
“Couldn’t we carry him down to Espy?” said Phonny.
“I don’t think that we have any right to carry him away. It is not our squirrel, and it may be that it is not Espy’s.”
Phonny seemed perplexed. After a moment’s pause he added, “Couldn’t we go down and tell Espy that there is a squirrel in his trap?”
“Yes,” said Wallace, “that we can do.”
Phonny stooped down and peeped into the trap again.
“The rogue,” said he. “The moment that I am gone, he will go to gnawing again, I suppose, and so get out and run away. What a little fool he is.”
“Do you think he is a fool for trying to gnaw out of that trap?” asked Wallace.
“Why no,”—said Phonny, “but I wish he wouldn’t do it. We will go down quick and tell Espy.”