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“Good!” thought Old Man Coyote. “I am here first, and now all I need do is to hide and wait for Paddy to come ashore.”

So he stretched himself flat behind some brush close beside the little path Paddy had made up from the edge of the water and waited. It was very still, so still that it seemed almost as if he could hear his heart beat. He could see the little stars twinkling in the sky and their own reflections twinkling back at them from the water of Paddy’s pond. Old Man Coyote waited and waited. He is very patient when there is something to gain by it. For such a splendid dinner as Paddy the Beaver would make, he felt that he could well afford to be patient. So he waited and waited, and everything was as still as if no living thing but the trees where there. Even the trees seemed to be asleep.

At last, after a long, long time, he heard just the faintest splash. He pricked up his ears and peeped out on the pond with the hungriest look in his yellow eyes. There was a little line of silver coming straight toward him. He knew that it was made by Paddy the Beaver swimming. Nearer and nearer it drew. Old Man Coyote chuckled way down deep inside, without making a sound. He could see Paddy’s head now, and Paddy was coming straight in, as if he hadn’t a fear in the world.

Almost to the edge of the pond swam Paddy. Then he stopped. In a few minutes he began to swim again, but this time it was back in the direction of his house, and he seemed to be carrying something. It was one of the little food logs he had cut that day, and he was taking it out to his storehouse. Then back he came for another. And so he kept on, never once coming ashore. Old Man Coyote waited until Paddy had carried the last log to his storehouse and then, with a loud whack on the water with his broad tail, had dived and disappeared in his house.

Then Old Man Coyote arose and started elsewhere to look for his dinner, and in his heart was bitter disappointment.

CHAPTER XVIII. Old Man Coyote Tries Another Plan.

For three nights Old Man Coyote had stolen up through the green Forest with the coming of the Black Shadows and had hidden among the aspen trees where Paddy the Beaver cut his food, and for three nights Paddy had failed to come ashore. Each night he had seemed to have enough food logs in the water to keep him busy without cutting more. Old Man Coyote lay there, and the hungry look in his eyes changed to one of doubt and then to suspicion. Could it be that Paddy the Beaver was smarter than he thought? It began to look very much as if Paddy knew perfectly well that he was hiding there each night. Yes, Sir, that’s the way it looked. For three nights Paddy hadn’t cut a single tree, and yet each night he had plenty of food logs ready to take to his storehouse in the pond.

“That means that he comes ashore in the daytime and cuts his trees,” thought Old Man Coyote as, tired and with black anger in his heart, he trotted home the third night. “He couldn’t have found out about me himself; he isn’t smart enough. It must be that someone has told him. And nobody knows that I have been over there but Sammy Jay. It must be he who has been the tattletale. I think I’ll visit Paddy by daylight tomorrow, and then we’ll see!”

Now the trouble with some smart people is that they are never able to believe that others may be as smart as they. Old Man Coyote didn’t know that the first time he had visited Paddy’s pond he had left behind him a footprint in a little patch of soft mud. If he had known it, he wouldn’t have believed that Paddy would be smart enough to guess what that footprint meant. So Old Man coyote laid all the blame at the door of Sammy Jay, and that very morning, when Sammy came flying over the Green Meadows, Old Man Coyote accused him of being a tattletale and threatened the most dreadful things to Sammy if ever he caught him.