TAD MAKES A COMPACT WITH WATCH AND TOMMY PEELE
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Tommy. “You ought to see yourself. You look a
funny picture of a coon with the lines all wiggly.” And Tad Coon
certainly did.
But pretty soon Tommy stopped laughing. “You poor beast,” he said in a
sorry voice; “it must hurt you awfully.” Nibble Rabbit knew that voice.
It was the same one he had used when he took Nibble out of the wire trap
and when he let Doctor Muskrat out of the cold steel jaws that had
bitten his toe off.
“Er-yow!” argued Watch, Tommy’s dog. He meant it was all Tad’s fault.
“Bz-z-z!” went the wasps who were guarding their nest on the ground
until the little white grubs in it should hatch. They meant that they
had something to say about it.
But Tommy didn’t understand and he didn’t care. “Be still, Watch!” he
ordered. Then he took a long branch and speared the nest on the tip of
it. Splash! He sent it into the middle of Doctor Muskrat’s pond. Some of
the wasps were drowned and the rest flew up into the tree, buzzing with
all their wings that the old nest was bewitched and they wouldn’t have
anything more to do with it. So there it floated wherever the wind blew
it, like a deserted ship. And the wind began blowing it right back to
Tad Coon.
“Come on, Tad,” called Doctor Muskrat from the pond. “Tommy isn’t going
to hurt you.” So Tad limped down and took a drink and washed himself.
Then he felt a lot better. After all, there aren’t very many places
where his fur is so short a wasp can sting him.
Nibble looked at Tad, and then he looked at Tommy. “I think Tommy means
to be friends,” he said. “But he hasn’t brought you anything to eat
yet.”
“He’s brought this,” answered Tad, and he waded out and caught the
wasps’ nest. Then he sat himself down on Doctor Muskrat’s nice, warm
stone and picked the fat white grubs out of it with his clever little
fingery toes. “Mm’m!” he grunted contentedly with his mouth full.
He was so busy and sober about it that he set Tommy laughing all over
again. Nibble twiddled his tail thoughtfully. “Doctor Muskrat,” he
remarked, “I’m beginning to wonder if Tommy makes friends with us
because he caught us or because he felt sorry we were hurt?”
Right then Watch spoke up. “I haven’t made friends with Tad, and you
remember I don’t always take Tommy when I go hunting.”
“Be still, Watch!” Tommy ordered. “I want to see what’s going to happen
next.”
“Nothing, now,” Watch answered. “But it will just as soon as you aren’t
here to stop me.” And he laid his nose on his paws and rolled the whites
of his eyes at Tad.
“Why?” demanded Nibble. Just the way he cocked his ears made Tommy
understand that he and Watch were talking, though he couldn’t even hear
the Woodsfolk.
“Because Tad’s just as bad as Silvertip the Fox,” snarled Watch. “He
eats Tommy’s eggs and his chickens--and he eats rabbits, too, when he’s
smart enough to catch them, you silly bunny. And you ought to see what
he does to the green corn that’s sprouting in the Broad Field.”
“He doesn’t!” gasped Nibble. “He could have caught me a dozen times. I
don’t believe it.”
But Tad Coon looked down his nose at his bad little handy-paws, he was
so ashamed, and nodded. “Yes, I do,” he owned honestly. “After I’ve
slept through the winter I come out in the spring so terrible starvation
hungry. But I wouldn’t eat you. I’d rather dig grubs from a rotten log,
even if we haven’t any compact.” And Nibble knew he meant it.
But Watch didn’t. “A lot of good that would do!” he snarled.
“That’s just what the cows said about their compact with you dogs
in the First-Off Beginning,” interrupted Doctor Muskrat in his
sober voice. “But you did keep it. Tad Coon isn’t one of the
Things-from-under-the-Earth that Mother Nature herself can’t
trust. Let’s all make a compact. Why fight unless you have to?”
Now this was very wise, because no dog likes to fight with a coon. “I’ll
make this much of a compact,” said Watch. “I won’t bother Tad Coon as
long as he behaves himself. If he doesn’t--Gr-r-rr!”
“All right,” Tad agreed cheerfully, for he meant to be very, very good.
All the same, he floundered into the pond and brought up a clam to give
Watch, just as though it were a regular compact. Watch didn’t eat it of
course, but he did touch his tongue to it. “I s’pose you’d think it
awfully funny if that shelly thing bit me,” he grinned, and he even
wagged his tail. Then Nibble sniffed of it, and Doctor Muskrat--and of
course Tommy was so puzzled he picked it up and put it in his pocket. He
wanted to ask his father if there was anything the matter with it. But
the beasts thought he was in the compact, too, so they were all happy.
Nobody dreamed that Bad One was hiding in the willows across the pond,
listening to every word Watch had spoken and saying to himself: “It
won’t take me long to start some trouble there.” And it didn’t.