Mrs. Bob looked at him sharply. “Why don't you own up that you wish it was somewhere else?” she demanded.
Bob looked a little foolish. “I can't quite get over the idea that this is a very dangerous place,” he confessed. “But I've great faith in your judgment, my dear,” he hastened to add.
“Then see to it that you are careful when you come over this way and never under any circumstances fly directly here,” retorted Mrs. Bob. “Keep away unless I call for you, and when you do come fly over in the long grass back there and then keep out of sight and walk over here under cover of the grass and weeds.”
Bob promised he would do just as she had told him to, and to prove it he stole away through the long grass and did not take wing until he was far from the nest. Then he flew over beyond the dear Old Briar-path and whistled with all his might from sheer happiness.
It wasn't long before there were fifteen beautiful white eggs in the nest in the weeds beside the Crooked Little Path, and then Bob's anxiety increased, you may be sure. Time and time again he saw Reddy Fox or Granny Fox or Jimmy Skunk trot down the Crooked Little Path and he knew that they were coming to look for his nest. But never once did they think of looking in that patch of weeds, for it never entered their heads that any one would build so close to a path they used so much. But they hunted and hunted everywhere else.
And all the time little Mrs. Bob sat on those white eggs and the color of her cloak was so nearly the color of the brown grasses and leaves that even if they had looked straight at her it isn't at all likely that they would have seen her. Little by little Bob confessed to himself that Mrs. Bob was right. She had chosen the very safest place on the Green Meadows for their home. It was safest because it was the last place any one would look for it. Then Bob grew less anxious and spent all his spare time in fooling those who were looking for his home.
VIII. BOB FOOLS HIS NEIGHBORS
“All's fair in love and war,” 'tis said.