Spot soon began to bark.

"He's treed!" said Farmer Green, pretty soon. And they all hurried over
to the edge of the woods, where Spot had chased a coon up into a tall
chestnut tree. In the moonlight they could see the coon quite plainly.
"Another little feller!" cried Farmer Green. "I declare, all the coons
that come to the cornfield seem to be young ones. This one's no bigger
than the one we saw last night."

Now, although Farmer Green never guessed it, it was Fatty Coon who was
up there in the tall chestnut. He had run almost to the woods this time,
before he had to take to a tree. In fact, if Spot hadn't been quite so
close to him Fatty could have reached the woods, and then he would have
just jumped from one tree to another. But there were no trees near
enough the big chestnut for that. Fatty had to stay right there and wait
for those men to pass on. He wasn't afraid. He felt perfectly safe in
his big tree. And he only smiled when Johnnie Green said to his father--

"I wish I had that young coon. He'd make a fine pet."

"A pet!" exclaimed Farmer Green. "You remember that pet fox you had,
that stole my chickens?"

"Oh, I'd be careful," Johnnie promised. "Besides, don't you think we
ought to catch him, so he won't eat any more corn?"

Farmer Green smiled. He had been a boy himself, once upon a time, and he
had not forgotten the pet coon that he had owned when he was just about
Johnnie's age.