Benny Badger stared none too pleasantly at Mr. Coyote. He didn't like his visitor. And he wished Mr. Coyote would go away.

But Mr. Coyote seemed to be in no hurry to leave. On the contrary, he appeared to have plenty of time to spare. And if he noticed the frown on Benny Badger's face, he certainly acted as if it were the most agreeable of smiles.

"We were speaking of Ground Squirrels——" he began with a smirk.

Benny Badger interrupted him quickly.

"We were not!" he snapped. "I haven't mentioned Ground Squirrels," he growled.

Mr. Coyote fell back a few steps.

"Well, I know you're interested in them, anyhow," he continued, trying to act as if he were quite unruffled by Benny's rudeness. "You can't deny that, for unless I'm mistaken, you've just caught one here." And his bright eyes twinkled, for he thought he "had" Benny Badger there, and it would be of no use for Benny to deny it.

"You are mistaken," Benny Badger grunted.

At that Mr. Coyote shot a swift look at him. Was that a shadow of disappointment about Benny's mouth?

"Did he get away from you?" Mr. Coyote inquired.

Benny Badger had to admit that that was exactly the case. He explained how he had found the Ground Squirrel's bed warm, but empty, when he reached the snug bedroom.

"I don't see how it happened," he told Mr. Coyote mournfully.

That crafty fellow gave a short laugh. He rather believed he knew where the trouble lay. And he said to himself—under his breath—that Benny Badger was even more stupid than he had supposed.

"Did you keep an eye on the Ground Squirrel's back door?" he inquired. And he was so amused by something or other that he began to giggle.

Benny Badger was afraid that Mr. Coyote was going to burst into song again. And he couldn't help shuddering.

"Are you going to sing?" he asked hastily.

"I hadn't intended to," Mr. Coyote answered. "But of course if you want me to——"

"No! no!" Benny cried. "Please don't!"

"Very well!" his musical friend replied. And then he returned to his question. "What about the back door? Did you watch it carefully?" he inquired.

"How could I?" Benny demanded, with a snort of anger. "I can't dig away at a Ground Squirrel's hole, with my head buried in it, and watch his back door at the same time. If I stopped digging, and went around to the back door, he'd be almost sure to run out through the front one. So I'd be no better off. In fact, I'd be worse off; for I'd lose not only the Ground Squirrel, but the fun of digging, too."

Mr. Coyote turned his head away and smiled a wide, wide smile. It was some moments before he could trust himself to speak without laughing right in Benny Badger's face.

"It's plain," he said at last, "that you need help. So I'm coming here every night to assist you in the business of catching Ground Squirrels."