Year after year Red Ben, with his faithful, pretty mate, raised little red foxes in the old mill. Year after year he hunted on the Ridge and on clear nights barked his defiance to any and all the gray foxes of the Barrens. “Yap, yap, yrrrrrr,” over the farmlands it would echo, and all the people who heard it would stop their work, or reading, for an instant to say to each other excitedly, “Listen! The Fox of Oak Ridge!”
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes
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