Well, Buddy got to the store all right, and bought the things for which his mother had sent him.  Then the storekeeper wanted to know how Dr. Pigg and his family were, and he inquired about Uncle Wiggily’s rheumatism, and Buddy told about the scare the old gentleman rabbit had had when the big, shaggy yellow dog appeared, and how the old gentleman rabbit ran, and how Percival bit the bad dog.

“That’s very interesting,” said the storekeeper, and he gave Buddy a whole carrot for himself.

Placing his basket of groceries carefully on his arm, Buddy Pigg started for home.  He walked along through the woods, and over the fields, thinking how nice everything was, and what fun he would have when he got home, playing ball with Sammie Littletail, and the Bushytail brothers, when, all at once, what should he hear but a noise in the bushes.

Now Buddy Pigg was always a little afraid when he heard noises, especially in the woods, where he couldn’t see what made them, so he crouched down under a burdock leaf in case there might be any danger.  And, sure enough, there was.

It wasn’t more than a second or, possibly a second and a squeak, before a great, big, bad boy stepped out from behind a tree.  And he had a gun with him, and he was looking for birds, or rabbits, or squirrels, or, maybe, guinea pigs to shoot.

That’s why I know he was a bad boy, but of course he may have turned out to be a good boy before he got to be so very old.  Well, this boy looked up, and he looked down, and he looked first to one side, and then to the other, and then—­flopsy-dub, and wiggily-waggily! if he didn’t spy poor Buddy Pigg hiding under the burdock leaf, and trembling as hard as he could tremble.

“Ah, ha!” cried that boy, “I have you now, little guinea pig!  I’ll take you home with me, that’s what I’ll do!  My, to think of catching a live guinea pig!  I certainly am a lucky chap!”

Then, before Buddy could run away, which he couldn’t have done anyhow, on account of the basket of groceries on his arm, if that boy didn’t grab him up in his hands, and hold him tight!

Oh, how frightened poor Buddy was!  He was so scared that he could only squeak very faintly, but he did manage to ask the boy to let him go, only the boy didn’t understand guinea pig language, as I do, and, even if he had, I doubt very much if he would have let Buddy go, for he was a bad boy as I have explained.

Well, the boy didn’t care any more about hunting rabbits or squirrels with his gun that day, as he had caught Buddy, so off he started to take the little guinea pig home with him, and, maybe, he intended to shut him up in a box, or put him in a cage, or do something dreadful like that.

But, listen, pretty soon—­oh, I guess in about four jumps and a hop—­something is going to happen to that boy.  Watch carefully and you’ll see it.