Chapter 3

"Should you?" said the owl. "If it _was_ a joke, it wasn't nearly as big a one as I'll play on anybody that tries to drive _me_ away from here. . . . I drove a snake away yesterday," he added. And he looked very thoughtfully at Benny Badger, as if he were picking out a soft place in which to sink his cruel beak.

"You needn't be so touchy," said Benny. "I'm not going to disturb you. I'm sure I shouldn't care to live in your house."

The owl was a peppery fellow. He grew angry at once.

"Why not?" he demanded. "What's the matter with my house?"

"I'll tell you," Benny replied. "It's a second-hand one. And that's bad enough. But it would be still worse if I took it away from you, because then it would be third-hand."

The owl looked daggers at him.

"You've insulted me!" he cried loudly, swelling himself up--or so it seemed.

"Have I?" Benny Badger inquired. "Don't mention it! I'm sure you're quite welcome." To tell the truth, he had not the least idea what the owl meant.

Naturally, Benny's words only made the owl angrier than ever. And he became actually rude.

"If I were you," he spluttered, "until I learned better manners I would dig a hole somewhere, crawl inside it, and pull it in after me."

Now, that was a new idea--for Benny Badger. And he liked it.

"What fun that would be!" he exclaimed. "Then when I wanted to go out I'd have to dig my way again!"

The owl gave a queer cry. And looking quite discouraged, he flew off and left Benny Badger sitting there in the grass.

XVI

SPOILING A GAME

Though the owl left him in such a rude fashion, Benny Badger wasted no time in thinking about what had just happened. There was something far more worth while that claimed his thoughts. For the prairie dog village still remained where it had been. And as Benny looked at it he found it highly interesting.

Even as he glanced at the doorway of the nearest house he caught sight of a small head with bulging eyes, which stared at him without blinking.

Benny moved nearer. And the head promptly vanished.

Then Benny Badger smiled all over his face.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Here's somebody else at home!" And he looked all around at a number of other doorways. To his great delight he saw other eyes peeping at him.

"There's a lot of 'em at home!" Benny cried with great glee.

He never felt happier in all his life. Everything was exactly as he would have wished it. And he was just taking off his coat, and trying to decide where he would begin to dig, when something happened that made him look very peevish. And he slipped his coat on again, and lay flat in the grass.

A coyote had come bounding up at exactly the wrong time! And every one of the prairie dogs promptly pulled his head out of sight.

If he noticed Benny at all, the coyote must have thought him no more than a heap of dirt. Anyhow, he paid no heed to Benny, but went stalking through the village with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, looking sharply out of the corners of his eyes at the houses he passed.

There is no denying that Benny Badger was displeased. He wanted no sneaking coyote at hand to spoil his plans. And he was all ready to growl, when something made him change his mind and close his mouth.

The coyote walked through the village and disappeared in the distance. And here and there heads soon began to appear in doorways.

But when Benny Badger stood up and drew nearer to them, they dropped down again.

The next moment a very angry lady rushed up and began scolding Benny Badger at the top of her voice. It was Mrs. Coyote. "Go away from this village!" she shrieked. "You're spoiling our hunting!"

"Whose hunting?" Benny Badger asked her.

"Mine and my husband's!" she snapped. "That was my husband that passed by here a few minutes ago. Of course we know the Prairie Dogs will all hide when they see him. But they're so silly that they're sure to bob up and stare at him after he has gone along. And then"--she said--"then's the time I dash up and grab them."

Mrs. Coyote paused and glared at Benny Badger. "You've spoiled my game," she said. "You went and showed yourself. And when they saw you, the Prairie Dogs hid again."

Benny Badger looked at Mrs. Coyote pleasantly enough.

"Why don't you dig for them?" he asked.

But Mrs. Coyote didn't appear to care for that idea in the least. She threatened Benny Badger with dreadful things, if he didn't leave at once. And then she hurried on to find her husband.

Benny Badger was glad to see her go. He was not at all afraid either of Mr. or Mrs. Coyote--nor of both of them together. And though he had spoiled their game, he hardly thought that they would be able to spoil his.

XVII

THE PRAIRIE DOG VILLAGE

Having once found his way to the prairie dog village, Benny Badger often visited it.

And it is said, by those who know, that while he was there he always had a much pleasanter time than the villagers themselves.

So little did the prairie dogs enjoy Benny Badger's society that whenever one of them spied Benny nearing the settlement he never failed to jerk his tail up and down and call out the news.

At the sound of the alarm--a high-pitched chatter--every prairie dog who wasn't at home scurried for his hole as fast as he could scamper.

Benny Badger always had to smile when he saw the villagers tumbling through their doorways. They couldn't have done anything that would have suited him better. Had there been a single one among the prairie dogs that wasn't a dunce he would have run _away_ from his hole, outside the village, to hide somewhere until Benny Badger left the place.

But the prairie dogs were too stupid to think of such a trick. They knew no better than to rush into their houses--which was exactly what Benny Badger wanted them to do.

And if anything happened now and then to make matters specially unpleasant for the prairie dogs, it never troubled Benny Badger. He seemed to grow fatter and happier than ever as time passed.

But at last he heard a bit of news one day that made him feel quite glum.

A young deer mouse claimed to have overheard a rancher talking--the rancher that lived about a mile from Benny Badger's home. And the deer mouse reported that the man was going to get rid of the whole prairie dog family. "He says they eat too much grass, and dig too many holes," the deer mouse declared.

Though the news upset Benny, and quite took away his appetite, for a few moments, he began to cast about for a way to prevent such a sad affair. If you could have seen him with a worried look on his face, anxiously asking everybody he met to give him advice, you would have thought that he felt very, very sorry for the prairie dogs.

But such was not the case at all. Benny Badger was feeling sorry for himself; for he knew that if the rancher drove the villagers away he would miss them terribly. Benny had almost given up hope of finding a way to put an end to the rancher's plan when the deer mouse told him another bit of news.

"He's going to build a new fence out this way--the rancher is!" the deer mouse informed Benny. "It's coming this side of the Prairie Dog village. And that's why the rancher wants to get rid of the Prairie Dogs."

"How do you know this?" Benny Badger asked his small friend. "Have you been eavesdropping again?"

The deer mouse blushed. And since he made no reply, Benny Badger had to believe him.

Still, Benny could see no way out of his difficulty. And he went home at day-break feeling quite out of sorts.

But when he awoke, right in the middle of the day, a happy thought popped into his head.

He was so excited by it that he couldn't go to sleep again, though the sun was shining brightly.

XVIII

SAVING THE DAY

Benny Badger kept his bright idea to himself. But his neighbors knew that he must have thought of something, because he seemed so good-natured all at once.

"He has a secret," they told one another. But they couldn't find out what it was. Though they asked Benny Badger point blank what he intended to do, he refused to tell them. He only smiled, and looked very wise. And indeed he felt just as wise as he looked.

For a time a good many of his friends spied upon him. Hidden behind whatever was handy, they watched Benny Badger.

But they soon grew tired of that. So far as they could see, he did nothing but dig holes. And certainly that was nothing new for him. So his friends went about their own affairs, leaving Benny to dig as many holes as he pleased.

Now, it pleased him to dig more holes, and bigger holes, than he had ever dug before. And he dug them all on the _other_ side of the prairie dog village--on the side toward the rancher's home.

Benny seemed to have no fixed plan as to _how_ he should dig the holes--whether in a straight row, or in a circle, or any other way. His one idea seemed to be to dig a plenty--to dig as many as anybody could possibly want for any purpose whatsoever.

Now and then some passer-by would stop and look at Benny for a few minutes, and snicker.

"Are you looking for buried gold?" Mr. Coyote asked him.

"What's the matter--have you been digging so fast that you can't stop?" Mr. Fox inquired.

Even the prairie dogs--timid as they were--ventured to jeer at Benny Badger and demanded whether he had gone crazy. But Benny Badger never paused to answer anybody. He smiled a good deal, however, as if he knew something that nobody else suspected.

Every morning at dawn he went home to rest. And every evening at sunset he returned to the same place, just beyond the prairie dog village, to take up his work where he had left it.

The only remark Benny would make when anyone insisted on talking with him was that he couldn't waste his time gossiping, because _he had to save the day_.

That seemed a strange statement. No one knew exactly what Benny Badger meant by it. To be sure, he saved each day for sleeping--for he worked only at night. But it was just as true that he saved each night for working. So it was only natural that people should be puzzled.

To everybody's surprise, Benny stopped his work as suddenly as he had begun it. Exactly at midnight he paused, brushed the dirt off himself, and slipped into his coat, remarking that he thought he "had saved the day."

With a hungry look on his face he turned toward the prairie dog village. And there was a great scurrying then.

"You ought to thank me!" Benny Badger called to the prairie dogs as they dived into their holes. "I've saved the day! The rancher certainly won't try to get rid of you now."

XIX

PLEASANT PRAISE

Not one of the prairie dogs knew what Benny Badger meant when he cried that he "had saved the day."

Of course, they had heard that the rancher did not like their village, and that he wanted to get rid of it--and them. But they couldn't imagine how Benny Badger might be able to help them. Indeed, they rather liked the rancher better than Benny, anyhow. And as for thanking Benny, the only time they would ever feel like thanking him would be when he bade them good-by and left the neighborhood, to return no more.

But Benny Badger was quite unaware of all that. He complained that the prairie dogs weren't treating him well.

"They ought to send a committee to my house to thank me for what I've done for them," he grumbled. "No one around here seems to understand me. But the rancher certainly will. You'll see before long that he'll be after me, to tell me what _he_ thinks of me."

For several days afterward Benny lost a good deal of sleep by staying outside his house while watching for the rancher to appear. And little by little, from things he said now and then, his neighbors learned his secret.

They discovered that Benny Badger had been digging holes for the posts of the new fence that the rancher was going to build!

"When he finds those holes already made, he won't be so foolish as to dig others," Benny explained.

"But you've gone and dug them on the wrong side of the Prairie Dog village!" somebody objected.

"Of course I have!" Benny retorted. "I did that on purpose. Don't you understand that when the rancher finds the holes he'll use them where they are? You don't suppose--do you?--that he'll be so silly as to move the holes?"

The objector--a somewhat youthful coyote--slunk away with a foolish simper. He saw that Benny Badger knew what he was talking about.

"Since the Prairie Dogs' village will lie _outside_ the new fence, the rancher won't pay any more attention to it," Benny Badger said stoutly. "From this time on, the Prairie Dogs are quite safe--so far as the rancher is concerned. . . . And that's how I have saved the day."

Benny Badger's secret was out at last. And as fast as people learned it they stopped to tell him that they had known all the time that he had a fine plan of some sort, and that if there was anything they could do to help him they would be greatly obliged if he would "count on them."

Of course the work was all done. But perhaps Benny's neighbors hadn't stopped to think of that. Anyhow he had never known them to be so pleasant before. And he quite enjoyed their praise; for everyone told him that nobody had ever suspected that he was so clever.

It was lucky that Benny took the time when he did to listen to his neighbors' pleasant speeches. Unfortunately they soon came to a sudden end.

XX

THE RANCHER IS ANGRY

Benny Badger lay motionless, with his long hair parted along the middle of his back and flowing off his sides in such a fashion that a careless passer-by would not have noticed that it was anything more than dry grass.

For several days Benny had been watching for the rancher. And now, at last, he saw him coming, riding on a horse over the rolling plain.

There was another man with the rancher. And as soon as Benny caught the murmur of their voices he made ready to hear many pleasant remarks about himself. He was only waiting until the riders should discover the holes he had dug near the prairie dog village.

Nearer and nearer came the men. And Benny Badger crouched lower and lower.

They had passed him, and ridden a bit nearer the village, when the rancher suddenly pulled his horse to a stand.

"Ah!" Benny Badger exclaimed under his breath. "He sees the new post-holes that I've dug for him. And how pleased he'll be!"

It was true that the rancher had just noticed the holes for the first time. The moment he saw them he gave a great roar.

"A badger!" he shouted. "We'll have to trap him. I can't have him tearing my ranch up like this. These holes are the finest things in the world to break a critter's leg in."

Benny Badger could scarcely believe what his own ears told him. He thought there must be a mistake somewhere. And when the rancher declared that the badger that dug those holes was worse than a whole village of prairie dogs, Benny was tempted, for one wild moment, to dash up to the men and tell them exactly what he thought.

But he remembered, in time, what the rancher had just said about trapping him. And he never stirred until the two riders had moved along.

When they had ridden beyond the next rise Benny Badger made a rush for his hole. And there he stayed all the rest of that day.

He didn't quite know what to do. And a little later he felt more uncomfortable than ever when the rancher began to build his new fence around the prairie dog village, without using a single one of the post-holes that Benny had dug for him.

All Benny's neighbors noticed what was happening. And they no longer told Benny what a clever fellow he was. On the contrary, they laughed slyly, and said things to one another whenever Benny Badger came near them.

When he growled at them they always pretended to be surprised to see him, and asked him if he had "dug any post-holes lately."

But Benny Badger never answered that question. Every time he heard it he felt like moving away from the neighborhood. And when he came home early one morning and found a _trap_ right in his doorway he made up his mind then and there that matters had gone far enough.

He turned away. And without stopping to tell anybody what he intended to do, or where he was going--without even saying good-by--he stole away across the plains to hunt for a new home.

XXI

THE NEW HOME

When Benny Badger went wandering off to find a safer and pleasanter neighborhood in which to make a new home for himself, he had no idea at all as to where he should go. He only knew that he wanted to get a good, long distance away from the place where he had been living.

Wherever he decided to settle, it must be some spot where the ungrateful rancher wouldn't be likely to find him, and set a trap in his doorway again.

On and on Benny travelled, until at last he met a spry young chap--one of the deer mouse family--who stopped still and stared at Benny as if he would like to speak to him, but didn't quite dare to.

"Hullo!" said Benny Badger. "Do you live around here?"

The deer mouse answered politely with a nod, as if he would like to talk, if he weren't too shy.

"Do you find this an agreeable neighborhood?" Benny Badger inquired.

"Very!" the deer mouse replied in a thin, piping voice.

"Is there plenty of good water nearby?" Benny asked him.

"Yes, indeed!" the deer mouse exclaimed. "There's a water-hole right over there!" And he pointed over his shoulder, without taking his eyes off Benny Badger. He knew it was safer to keep a close watch of strangers.

Benny sat down. He had journeyed a long way and he was tired.

"I'll go and have a drink as soon as I'm rested," he said. "I'm glad there's good water here. This seems to be a pleasant place. . . . Are there any good Gophers and Prairie Dogs in the neighborhood?"

"Oh, yes!" the deer mouse answered. "But you needn't worry about them. They won't harm you if you mind your own affairs. I've lived here a long time; and they haven't touched me."

"What about Owls?" Benny Badger wanted to know.

The deer mouse looked solemn all at once.

"There are a few," he admitted. "If you're thinking of settling here, you'll have to watch sharp for them. I've had several narrow escapes."

Benny Badger smiled.

"I'd like to see the Owl that could hurt me!" he cried. "And as for Gophers and Prairie Dogs, _I like them_. . . . This is the very place I've been looking for. And as soon as I have rested a little longer and had a drink of that good water I'm going to dig myself a den right where I'm sitting now."

The deer mouse pricked up his long ears at that. To the best of his belief, no badger had ever lived in the neighborhood before. And if the stranger was going to dig a hole, he intended to watch him while he worked.

"If you feel rested enough now, I'll show you the way to the water-hole," the deer mouse said presently. He was impatient for the fun to begin.

Benny Badger stood up.

"Lead on!" he commanded. "I'll follow." And then he yawned--for it was already long past his usual bedtime.

The deer mouse trembled slightly as he looked into Benny's great mouth. And he took care to keep well ahead of the stranger all the way to the water-hole, and back again, too. But he soon forgot his fear when Benny Badger began to dig the new den. The dirt flew in such showers as the deer mouse had never seen in all his life--except during a cyclone.

Benny had begun to dig--as he said he should--in the exact spot where he had sat and rested. But for one reason or another he soon changed his mind, and started to dig a different hole a short distance from the first one.

Soon he moved again. And after he had begun no less than five holes, only to leave each one unfinished, the deer mouse interrupted him with a sharp cry.

"Stop! Stop!" he begged Benny. "Please don't do that!"

Benny Badger paused and stared at him in amazement.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's the matter?"

The deer mouse was all a-flutter.

"Goodness me!" he exclaimed. "You'll have the whole neighborhood dug up if you're not careful!"

XXII

A BREAKFAST INVITATION

For a moment or two Benny Badger looked at the deer mouse without saying a word. He told himself that here was a country person who couldn't ever have travelled much, or he would have known better than to make such a remark. . . . Spoil the whole neighborhood indeed! . . . Benny's lip twisted up in something like a sneer.

"Don't you worry!" he snorted. "I don't believe you ever saw a first-class digger before. I'm not going to spoil the neighborhood. I'm _improving_ it. I'm making a fine house here--probably the finest there is for miles around."

The deer mouse appeared ashamed. Of course he didn't like to seem stupid.

"But why do you dig in so many places?" he faltered.

"That's my way," Benny Badger told him. "As soon as I get one den well started I think I'd rather live somewhere else. But I don't mind beginning again because there's no better exercise than digging."

"No doubt!" the deer mouse agreed. "But I'm sure it would be much too violent for me."

He said no more, but looked on with a puzzled air until at last Benny Badger had actually dug in one place long enough to make a deep den.

When it was quite finished Benny Badger brushed the dirt off himself and turned to Mr. Deer Mouse.

"Come inside and see if my new house isn't the finest one you ever saw!" he said.

For some reason Mr. Deer Mouse did not seem eager to enter. To be sure, he thanked Benny for the invitation, but he backed away a few steps and said that he thought he'd better not look at the new house that morning. "I--I haven't the time to spare," he mumbled.

Benny Badger couldn't understand that remark. The white-footed gentleman had had plenty of time to spend while watching him dig the den. And Benny said as much, too.

"That's exactly the point," said the deer mouse. "I've spent so much time already that I've used it all up."

Well, Benny Badger couldn't understand that either.

"Used up all the time!" he cried scornfully. "Isn't there plenty more where the other time came from?"

"Oh, to be sure--to be sure!" said the deer mouse, who seemed ready to agree to anything--except to Benny's invitation. "But there is another reason why I mustn't visit your new home this morning: I'm hungry. I haven't had my breakfast yet."

Suddenly Benny Badger remembered that he was hungry himself.

And as he stared at plump Mr. Deer Mouse a certain idea came into his head. And he looked Mr. Deer up and down before he spoke.

"I haven't had my breakfast either," he said at last. "I'm ready for a good meal. Come right in and join me!"

But something made Mr. Deer Mouse say, "No, thank you!" _Joining a badger at breakfast!_ Somehow that had a dangerous sound.

XXIII

MR. DEER MOUSE IS TIMID

Benny Badger began to lose patience with the deer mouse. He was one of the most timid persons Benny had ever seen. And Benny was on the point of telling him that he hadn't even the courage of a prairie dog.

But suddenly a new idea flashed into his head. He thought he knew what was troubling Mr. Deer Mouse.

"When I asked you to join me at breakfast I didn't mean what you thought I did," Benny announced. "You thought--didn't you?--that I meant to breakfast on _you_."

Mr. Deer Mouse admitted faintly that he had had some such notion.

"How ridiculous!" Benny Badger cried. "Why, you're so quick that I could chase you all day--and all night, too--without catching you. You're too spry for me. So we might as well put such an idea out of our minds."

Benny Badger sighed as he spoke. And he couldn't help noticing, once more, how very, very plump Mr. Deer Mouse was.

"What I meant by your joining me at a good meal was simply this," he continued: "If you'll only stay with me, and follow me quietly wherever I go, there's a good chance that you'll have a bone to gnaw before a great while."

All that seemed very pleasant to the deer mouse.

"Thank you ever so much!" he murmured. "I'll be glad to accept your invitation, so long as we aren't going to breakfast inside your new home."

So they set out. And for a time Mr. Deer Mouse followed Benny Badger all around the neighborhood.