"I'm going to get that fox if it takes all summer!" exclaimed
Farmer Brown's boy. "I ought to have gotten him the other day
when I had a shot at him. Next time well, we'll see, Mr. Fox,
what will happen next time."

Now someone heard Farmer Brown's boy, heard everything he said,
though Farmer Brown's boy didn't know it. It was Unc' Billy
Possum, who was hiding in the very pile of wood on which Farmer
Brown's boy was sitting. Unc' Billy pricked up his ears.

He didn't like the tone of voice in which Farmer Brown's boy
spoke. He thought of Reddy Fox still so stiff and sore and lame
that he could hardly walk, all from the shot which Farmer Brown's
boy thought had missed.

"There isn't gwine to be any next time. No, Suh, there isn't
gwine to be any next time. Ah sho'ly doan love Reddy Fox, but Ah
can't nohow let him be shot again. Ah cert'nly can't!" muttered
Unc' Billy Possum to himself.

Of course, Farmer Brown's boy didn't hear him. He didn't hear him
and he didn't see him when Unc' Billy Possum crept out of the
back side of the woodpile and scurried under the henhouse. He was
too intent on his plan to catch Reddy Fox.

"I'm just going to hunt over the Green Meadows and through the
Green Forest until I get that fox!" said Farmer Brown's boy, and
as he said it he looked very fierce, as if he really meant it.
"I'm not going to have my chickens stolen any more! No, Sir-e-e!