Sally was sent up a tree by Spot more than once, and even Oxford had to fly from him several times, for to stay indoors in the lovely summer weather was altogether impossible. There came to be a certain excitement in escaping from their enemy which gave a dash of spice to their life. And there was one day they would never forget when Spot met the two of them in the Wild Wood. Oxford had promised to defend Sally, but all the same, she thought it wiser to scamper up the nearest tree, for it might happen that her brave brother would get the worst of the fight. Oxford looked about him to see where Sally was and, finding she was safe, he thought it better to join her and not to fight Spot, for Sally would be happier if he were in the tree, too. So the pair sat there looking down with scorn on their enemy. ‘Who are you, anyway?’ Oxford asked. ‘You low creature not able to climb like us!’ ‘I come of a very fine stock. My mistress looked up my pedigree before she bought me. It is written on paper.’ ‘I thought you seemed like a thing that had been bought with money,’ said Oxford. ‘My sister and I are free, not slaves. No money could buy us. We could leave our home to-morrow if we liked.’ ‘Perhaps you could to-morrow,’ Spot called back. ‘But you don’t seem to be able to leave now. Not while I am at the foot of this tree.’ Now, only a few days before, Oxford had been scorning musty records, but to Sally’s surprise he said: ‘If my sister and I chose to take the trouble, we could have a family tree with an ancestry that would absolutely astonish you, Spot. We go back to a cat who was named William the Conqueror, because he always knocked his enemy flat. He was the first Furbush--I mean we can trace back no farther; of course, there were others back of him.’ ‘Well,’ said Spot, ‘I am sure my ancestors were all so great that every one was a conqueror, and as for my master, he was one of the first settlers--his ancestors were, I mean.’ ‘That is nothing,’ said Oxford. ‘Miss Winifred is descended from one of the kings of France.’ ‘Indeed!’ said Spot. ‘One wouldn’t think it to look at her.’ ‘Not that I care a great deal about such things myself,’ said Oxford. ‘I shouldn’t suppose you would,’ said Spot, ‘for I have heard that your mother’s mother was just a little waif without home or family.’ This was too much for Oxford. He started to scramble down the tree, and Sally was afraid that Spot would fly at him and perhaps kill him. ‘Oxford,’ she said, ‘is that a bird’s nest on that upper bough?’ Oxford paused in his descent to look up. ‘I don’t see anything. Where is it?’ ‘I saw something very like a bird’s nest,’ she said. Oxford forgot all about his grandmother in his interest in the nest, which might be full of young birds. ‘Dogs are very superior to cats,’ Spot was saying. ‘Every one says so. It is a well-known fact.’ ‘Who says so?’ Oxford asked. ‘My master and my mistress, and all the dogs I know.’