That is Chatterer all over. In all the Green Forest there is no one who appears to enjoy mischief so thoroughly as does Chatterer the Red Squirrel. And there is no one more ready to take a chance when it offers.

It happened that Chatterer discovered Boxer, the runaway little Bear, as he rested and planned what he would do out in the Great World. Chatterer kept quiet until he was sure that Boxer was alone; that Mother Bear and Woof-Woof were nowhere near. When he was sure of this, Chatterer guessed just what had happened. He guessed that Boxer had run away. You know Chatterer is one of the sharpest and shrewdest of all the little people in the Green Forest.

Chatterer grinned. “I believe,” said he to himself, “that that silly little Bear has run away and is lost. If he isn’t lost, he ought to be, and I’ll see to it that he is. Yes, Sir, I’ll see to it that he is properly lost. This is my chance to get even for the fright he and his sister gave me when they chased me up a tree.”

Chatterer once more looked everywhere to make sure no one else was about. Then he lightly jumped over into the tree under which Boxer was sitting. He took care to make no sound. He crept out on a limb directly over Boxer and then he dropped a pine cone.

The pine cone hit Boxer right on the end of his nose, and because his nose is rather tender, it hurt. It made the tears come. Then, too, it was so unexpected it startled Boxer. “Ouch!” he cried, as he sprang to one side and looked up to see where that cone had come from.

When he saw Chatterer grinning down at him, Boxer grew very angry. That was the same fellow he once had so nearly caught in a tree top. This time he would catch him. Down came another cone on Boxer’s head.

“Can’t catch me! Can’t catch me!” taunted Chatterer, in the most provoking way.

Boxer growled and started up that tree. “Can’t catch a flea! Can’t catch me!” cried Chatterer gleefully, as he looked down at Boxer and made faces at him.

He waited until Boxer was halfway up that tree then lightly ran out to the end of a branch and leaped across to a branch of the next tree. From there he called Boxer all sorts of names and made fun of him until the little Bear was so angry he hardly knew what he was doing. Of course he couldn’t jump across as Chatterer had. He was too big to run out on a branch that way, even had he dared try it. So there was nothing to do but to scramble down that tree and climb the next one.

Boxer started down. When he reached the ground, he found Chatterer also on the ground. “Can’t catch a flea! Can’t catch me!” shouted Chatterer more provokingly than ever.

“I can catch any Red Squirrel that lives,” growled Boxer and jumped at Chatterer. Chatterer dodged and ran, Boxer after him. Around trees and stumps, this way, that way and the other way, over logs, behind piles of brush Chatterer led Boxer, until the latter was so out of breath he had to stop.

Chatterer chuckled. “I guess that now he is quite properly lost,” said he to himself, as he ran up a tree and dropped another cone on Boxer. “I guess I’ve turned him around so many times he hasn’t any idea where home is or anything else, for that matter. I haven’t had so much fun for a long time.”

He dropped another cone on Boxer and then started off through the tree tops, leaving Boxer all alone.