Farmer Green always had a woodpile in the back yard. Sometimes it was big. Sometimes it was little. Sometimes it was mostly made up of four-foot logs. Sometimes the logs were all split and sawed, ready to burn.

When Farmer Green and the hired man had nothing more pressing to do they set to work on the woodpile. It was surprising how fast the big sticks grew into firewood under their axes and saws.

One day they started sawing and splitting when Johnnie Green and old dog Spot were roaming through the woods. And when Johnnie and Spot came back home, just in time for dinner, they found a great heap of firewood lying on the ground where there had been nothing but dirt when they started for the woods some hours before.

Old dog Spot ran straight to the woodpile and began sniffing and scratching and whining.

If Johnnie Green hadn't been hungry he would have paid more heed to Spot's behavior. But the men had already gone into the house. And Johnnie hurried after them, leaving Spot to nose about the woodpile as he pleased.

"Humph!" Spot growled. "Seems to me Johnnie Green might stay here a while and help me. I've been chasing woodchucks and squirrels for him all the morning. And I showed him a few birds, too."

Spot never once left the woodpile while Johnnie was eating his dinner. When Johnnie and his father and the hired man came out of the house later old Spot began to yelp. He made frantic efforts to burrow down beneath the pile of firewood, stopping now and then to run up to his young master and bark.

Now that he had had his dinner, Johnnie Green was all ready for any sort of fun.

"Spot smells some kind of game in the woodpile!" Johnnie exclaimed.

"Perhaps he does," said his father. "But I don't see how he's going to get hold of it unless we move the woodpile. And I don't believe we'll quit work to help the old dog catch a chipmunk—or maybe a rat."

"Come on!" Spot begged Johnnie, as plainly as he could bark. "Move some of this wood for me! There's something under it that I want to get my teeth on."

"All right! All right!" Johnnie told him. And to his father Johnnie said, "Do you care if I throw some of the stove wood over on the other side of the pile?"

"If you're going to move any wood—" Farmer Green replied with a wink at the hired man—"if you're going to move any wood you might as well move it into the woodshed and pile it up neatly."

When he heard that suggestion Johnnie Green looked very glum. For a minute or two he thought he wouldn't bother to help old Spot find what he was looking for. But Spot teased and teased. And Johnnie couldn't help being curious to know what it was that Spot was after.

"Maybe there's a muskrat here," he said to himself. "If there is, I'll have his skin to pay me for my trouble."