Mr. Trimble dropped his hoe across a row of potatoes, and walked to where Splash was still barking away in front of the smoke-house.

“Will your dog bite?” asked the farmer.

“No, he is very gentle,” answered Mr. Brown.  “But I’ll call him away while you open the door.”

“I’ll hold him,” said Bunny.  “I’ll hold him by his collar.”

By this time Splash seemed to have barked enough, for he grew quiet.  Perhaps he knew the door was going to be opened.  He came away when Bunny called him, and the little boy held tightly to the dog’s collar.

“I’ll help you hold him,” cried Sue, and she, too, took hold.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” said Mr. Trimble, with a sour sort of laugh, “but you won’t see any boy, or anything else, as far as I know, in this smoke-house.  I did pile in some bean poles last fall, and I guess they’re there yet, but that’s all.  Now watch close.”

He put his shoulder against the door, and pushed.  As it swung open, an animal, something like a little red dog, with a sharp, pointed nose and a big, bushy tail, sprang out and ran down the little hill, on which the smoke-house stood.

“Why—­why!” cried Mr. Trimble.  “There was an animal in there after all!  I didn’t know it.”

“A fox!  It’s a fox!” cried Bunny Brown.  He had once seen in a book a picture of a fox, and this animal looked just like the picture.

“Yes, that’s a fox sure enough, and I guess it’s the one that’s been taking my chickens!” cried Mr. Trimble.  “I wish I had my gun!  I’d shoot the critter!”

He picked up a stone, and threw it at the fox, but did not hit the running animal.  Then something queer happened.

Splash, who was being held by Bunny and Sue, gave a sudden bark.  Then he gave a sudden jump.  He went so quickly that he pulled Bunny and Sue after him, and they both fell down in the dirt.  But it was soft, so they were not hurt.

They had to let go of Splash’s collar, though, and the dog now began to run after the fox, barking again and again.

“Splash!  Splash!” cried Bunny.  “Come back.  The fox will bite you!”

“Don’t worry,” said Daddy Brown.  “Splash can never catch that fox.  The fox can run too fast, and he has a good head-start.  Splash will soon get tired of running, and come back.”

“The idea!  The idea,” exclaimed Mr. Trimble, “of a fox being in my smoke-house!  That’s what made your dog all excited.”

“Yes, that was it,” said Daddy Brown.  “But I thought you might have Tom Vine shut up in there.  I’m sorry I made the mistake.”

“Oh, well, that’s all right,” said Mr. Trimble.  He did not seem so cross now.  He even smiled at Bunny and Sue.

“Maybe I was too quick with that boy,” he said.  “But I’m a hard working man, and them as works for me has to work hard, same as I do.  But maybe I was too hard on Tom.  I certainly was mad when he ran away and left me, and I made up my mind I’d punish him, if I could get him back.  But I haven’t seen him since he was at your camp.  And you thought he was in the smoke-house?” he asked.