“That’s better,” said Granny. “We will feel better, both of us. Now that I’ve something in my stomach, I feel two years younger. Before you came, I didn’t feel as if I should ever be able to go on another hunt. If you hadn’t brought something, I—I’m afraid I couldn’t have lasted much longer. By another day you probably wouldn’t have had old Granny to think of. You may not know it, but I know that you saved my life, Reddy. I had reached a point where I just had to have a little food. You know there are times when a very little food is of more good than a lot of food could be later. This was one of those times.” Never in all his life had Reddy Fox felt so truly happy. He was still hungry,—very, very hungry. But he gave it no thought. He had saved Granny Fox, good old Granny who had taught him all he knew. And he knew that Granny knew how he had had to fight with himself to do it. Reddy was happy through and through with the great happiness that comes from having done something for some one else. “It was nothing,” he muttered. “It was a very great deal,” replied Granny. And then she changed the subject. “How would you like to eat a dinner of Bowser the Hound’s?” she asked. CHAPTER XVII Granny Fox Promises Reddy Bowser’s Dinner To give her children what each needs To get the most from life he can, To work and play and live his best, Is wise Old Mother Nature’s plan. —_Old Granny Fox_. When old Granny Fox asked Reddy how he would like to eat a dinner of Bowser the Hound’s, Reddy looked at her sharply to see if she were joking or really meant what she said. Granny looked so sober and so much in earnest that Reddy decided she couldn’t be joking, even though it did sound that way. “I certainly would like it, Granny. Yes, indeed, I certainly would like it,” said he. “You—you don’t suppose he will give us one, do you?” Granny chuckled. “No, Reddy,” said she. “Bowser isn’t so generous as all that, especially to Foxes. He isn’t going to give us that dinner; we are going to take it away from him. Yes, Sir, we just naturally are going to take it away from him.” Reddy didn’t for the life of him see how it could be possible to take a dinner away from Bowser the Hound. That seemed to him almost as impossible as it was for him to climb or fly or dive. But he had great faith in Granny’s cleverness. He remembered how she had so nearly caught Quacker the Duck. He knew that all the time he had been away trying to find something for them to eat, old Granny Fox had been doing more than just rest her tired old bones. He knew that not for one single minute had her sharp wits been idle. He knew that all that time she had been studying and studying to find some way by which they could get something to eat. So great was his faith in Granny just then that if she had told him she would get him a slice of the moon he would have believed her.