Hare was sitting in Raccoon’s parlor. “Somebody’s trying to ferret out what happened at the party in the barn,” he said.
“Who?” asked Raccoon carelessly.
“Ferret,” said Hare.
“I heard you the first time,” said Raccoon, “I meant who’s doing the ferreting.”
“Ferret,” said Hare again. “You can’t miss him. He looks like a smaller version of Otter, but he’s wearing an old-fashioned hat and a raincoat. And in his pocket — you’re not going to believe this, Raccoon — he’s got a whistle. A dirty one.”
“A dirty whistle?” said Raccoon, astonished. “Who carries a dirty whistle around in the forest?”
“That’s just what I asked myself,” said Hare. “Anyway, he came to see me and made it pretty clear he’s going to get to the bottom of what went on at the party.”
Raccoon looked at Hare sideways. “What DID go on?” she asked. “Why would somebody ask questions about that party?”
“Ferret said it’s because nobody knows what went on,” said Hare, “except for Beaver talking to Masie and Hortense, and that game of tag. I think Squirrel was playing, and maybe Fox. But I don’t know why anybody cares.”
“Maybe something went on that somebody WOULD care about,” said Raccoon. “Did this Ferret say why he was asking?”
“Somebody hired him,” said Hare, “but he wouldn’t say who it was. He kind of made me nervous, Raccoon. And he kept calling me ‘rabbit’ and ‘hopper’ and ‘long ears’. I had to sit down and eat an extra carrot after he left.”
Raccoon frowned at Hare. “You want to take it easy with those, Hare,” she said. “You’re still getting your carrots from the same supplier?”
“Well, from the ground,” said Hare.
“I thought so,” said Raccoon. “You don’t want to overdo it, Hare. Here, have a cucumber.” She handed Hare a medium-sized cucumber.
“Thanks,” said Hare, nibbling the vegetable. “I don’t overdo it, Raccoon. It was just the stress.” Hare remembered something Ferret had said. “Ferret mentioned stress too. He said he’d tried to quit until last week, but then he asked me for a carrot, Raccoon, and he ate the whole thing in about a minute flat!”
Raccoon’s eyes got big. “Was it a normal-sized carrot?” she asked.
“It was a little on the large side, as a matter of fact,” said Hare. “And Ferret is pretty small.”
“Was he…did he act normal?” asked Raccoon.
“You mean normal for a talking animal wearing a hat and a raincoat, and carrying a dirty whistle in his pocket?” asked Hare.
“I see what you mean,” said Raccoon. “Never mind.”
“Anyway,” said Hare, “you might want to watch out for him, Raccoon. I got the feeling he was going to be asking everybody about the party.”
“Oh sure,” said Raccoon. “I’ll keep an eye out. But I don’t think you have to worry, Hare. It was just a party. We were both there, remember?”
Hare was about to answer when there was a knock on Raccoon’s door. Something told him this wasn’t your normal, every-day friendly knock.
“That’s him!” whispered Hare. “He’s going to ask you about the party, Raccoon! Quick, where’s your back door?”
“You know perfectly well I don’t have a back door,” said Raccoon. “Calm down, Hare. IF it’s Ferret — and you don’t know that, by the way — let’s find out what’s going on. It won’t be so bad; there are two of us now.”
Hare edged toward the back of the parlor while Raccoon went to the door. He was standing behind a chair by the time Raccoon opened the door. Hare had been right. Standing on the porch, still wearing his old-fashioned hat and raincoat, stood Ferret.
