s wood sooner or
later. Really, I might as well take some of it into the woodshed now."

To Spot's delight he bent over and began gathering an armful of wood.

"Wow! Wow!" Spot howled. "Thank goodness I'm going to get what's under
this pile, after all."

Johnnie Green carried armful after armful of wood from the yard and
piled it in the shed back of the kitchen. All the time old dog Spot was
urging him with yelps and barks and whines and moans to move faster. And
all the time Johnnie Green was working as spryly as he could.

Whatever it might be that Spot wanted to get under the woodpile in the
yard, Johnnie hoped it wouldn't escape through the crevices between the
sticks.

"I don't want to get myself all tired out for nothing," Johnnie said to
himself. "I was going fishing this afternoon."

While Johnnie hurried back and forth between the woodpile and the shed
Spot clawed away at the edge of the pile. He thrust his nose beneath
loose sticks and pushed them about. He uttered pitiful sounds.

"I never saw that dog take on so," Farmer Green remarked.

"And I never saw Johnnie work so hard," said the hired man. "When
there's wood to be carried in he's usually a mile away."

Farmer Green laughed.

"He'll quit as soon as Spot gets what he wants," he replied. "It's too
bad this sort of thing doesn't happen oftener. Except for driving the
cows home, this is the first time I ever knew a boy and a dog to do much
besides play, when they're together."

Turkey Proudfoot, the huge gobbler, came hurrying around the corner of
the barn to see what was going on. He had an idea that he ruled the
farmyard.

"What's all this row about?" he gobbled at old Spot. "Have you lost
something?"

"Yes!" Spot told him. "Johnnie Green's helping me to find it. We're
moving part of the woodpile."

"What did you lose?" Turkey Proudfoot demanded.

Old Spot pretended not to hear him. He began barking again at Johnnie
Green.

Mr. Catbird, who loved to play jokes on everybody, started mewing from
his hiding place under the lilac bushes. He had noticed Spot's antics.
And he hoped to fool him into thinking there was a strange cat around
the place. For Spot was a famous chaser of all cats--so long as they
kept running away from him and didn't turn around and try to scratch
him.

To Mr. Catbird's astonishment old Spot paid no heed to his catcalls.

"This is queer," Mr. Catbird muttered. "Whenever I've mewed before he
has always come a-ru