“Here comes a policeman! He’s after you because you took that Dog!”
“Oh, my!” cried the boy who had Donald’s toy. “I’m going to run!”
And run both boys did. But still the policeman came on. Now, as a matter of fact, the policeman was not after the boys at all. He was hurrying down the street to go home to his dinner, and he did not know the boys had stolen the Dog. But the boys thought he was after them, and so they ran.
Down a lane that led to the country fled the boy with the Woolly Dog, and still the policeman came on, for he lived in that neighborhood.
“He’s going to catch you,” said the boy who had not taken the Dog.
“Well, I’ll get rid of this,” cried the other, and he gave the Woolly Dog a toss over the fence. Then the two boys ran on and hid themselves in a wood, but the policeman turned into his house to get his dinner.
“Oh, dear me! This is terrible!” thought the Woolly Dog, when he felt himself being taken away by the bad boy. “And this is worse,” thought the Dog, as he felt himself flung over the fence. Then, as he landed down inside what seemed to be a box, he barked: “And this is the worst of all!”
Well might he say that, for he had been thrown into a hive of bees!
CHAPTER VIII
RIDING DOWN HILL
There was a little farm in the country not far from Donald’s home, and the farmer kept a few hives of bees for the honey they made. This farmer happened to be out working among his bees when the boy who had stolen the Woolly Dog ran past. And when the boy, to get rid of the Dog, threw the toy over the fence, why, Donald’s plaything fell right into an open hive of the honey-making and stinging insects.