Just then the farmer looked over in the pen to see how fat the pigs were
getting. He counted the little pigs. Then a queer look came over his
face.

"Hello!" he exclaimed. "Only six here! One of those pigs has gotten out.
I must look into this!"

Quickly he glanced all about the pen. He saw the hole out of which
Squinty had run away.

"I thought so!" exclaimed the farmer. "One of the pigs has rooted his
way out. I'll have to go after him. Here, Don!" he called to his dog. "A
pig is loose! We must catch him!" and he whistled for the big black and
white dog, who ran up, barking and leaping about.

At first Squinty's brothers and sisters were paying so much attention to
drinking their sour milk, that they did not notice what the farmer said,
even though they missed Squinty at the trough. But when they heard the
dog barking, they wondered what had happened. Then they saw their mamma
and papa looking anxious, and talking together in their grunting
language, and Wuff-Wuff asked:

"Has anything happened?"

"Squinty is lost!" said Mrs. Pig, rubbing her nose up against that of
Curly Tail, the littlest girl pig of them all. "He must have run out of
the pen when we were asleep."

"Oh dear!" cried all the little pigs, and they felt very badly.