"He must of," Mun agreed. "Could it be by any chanst Old Joe, Harky?" Mun pleaded.
Harky said sadly, "I can't tell, Pa."
"Ain't you got a feelin'?" Mun persisted.
"I ain't had any kind of feeling I can count on since the night Melinda horned in on our coon hunt."
Mun sighed unhappily. "Goshamighty. Wish I'd of turn't her back that night."
"Wish you had," Harky agreed. "We wouldn't be in this fix now."
"If it's jest a common coon, Duckfoot'll soon have it up," Mun said. "You can git him an' still have the night to prowl for Old Joe."
Harky said, "I'll go out for a listen."
Harky went out on the porch and strained to hear in the deepening night. His hopes rose. Duckfoot, a silent trailer, would come silently on any ordinary coon that might be raiding the shocked corn and he'd almost surely tree it within hearing of the house. He would not get Old Joe up so easily. Harky rejoined Mun.
"I can't hear anything."