“Why, I thought all dogs belonged to hunters or trappers and that they bit us foxes,” said Sharp Eyes.
“Well, I don’t,” was the reply. “My name is Don, and once I was a runaway dog, but I ran back. I am a little like a runaway dog to-day, but I am going to run back home to-night, as soon as I have had some adventures in the woods. This is the start of one, I guess. I’m sorry you are in the trap.”
“Are you, really?” asked Sharp Eyes, who had been taught that all dogs were bad and cruel.
“Of course I am, Sharp Eyes,” answered Don. “I know what it is to be in pain, and I can see that where your paw is caught it must hurt you.”
“Indeed it does,” answered the fox. “I’ve tried to get away but I can’t.”
“How did you get in the trap?” asked Don.
“Oh, I didn’t look closely enough before I made a jump for this chicken. It was right over the trap, to hide it, and now I am fast.”
“Well, maybe you can get loose,” said Don. “I’ll help you. This is what my friend Slicko, the jumping squirrel, would call an adventure.”
“Oh, do you know Slicko?” asked Sharp Eyes, and he was so surprised that he forgot his pain for a moment.
“Of course I know Slicko,” was the answer. “I stayed two or three nights in the same woods with Slicko.”