nd then. Timmy was so sound asleep that he knew nothing
of his visitor. And so Whitefoot felt safe in staying long enough to get
rested. Then he would go out and hunt for another home.

So down in the middle of that soft, warm bed Timmy the Flying Squirrel,
curled up in a little round ball with his flat tail wrapped around him,
slept peacefully, and on top of that soft bed Whitefoot the Wood Mouse
rested and wondered what he should do next. Not in all the Green Forest
could two more timid little people be found than the two in that old
home of Drummer the Woodpecker.

CHAPTER XIX: Whitefoot Finds A Home At Last

True independence he has known
Whose home has been his very own.
--Whitefoot.

Curled up in his splendid warm bed, Timmy the Flying Squirrel slept
peacefully. He didn't know he had a visitor. He didn't know that on top
of that same bed lay Whitefoot the Wood Mouse. Whitefoot wasn't asleep.
No, indeed! Whitefoot was too worried to sleep. He knew he couldn't stay
in that fine house because it belonged to Timmy. He knew that as soon as
Timmy awoke, he, Whitefoot, would have to get out. Where should he go?
He wished he knew. How he did long for the old home he had left. But
when he thought of that, he remembered Shadow the Weasel. It was better
to be homeless than to feel that at any minute Shadow the Weasel might
appear.

It was getting late in the afternoon. Before long, jolly, round, red Mr.
Sun would go to bed behind the Purple Hills, and the Black Shadows would
come creeping through the Green Forest. Then Timmy the Flying Squirrel
would awake. "It won't do for me to be here then," said Whitefoot to
himself. "I must find some other place before he wakes. If only I knew
this part of the Green Forest I might know where to go. As it is, I
shall have to go hunt for a new home and trust to luck. Did ever a poor
little Mouse have so much trouble?"

After awhile Whitefoot felt rested and peeped out of the doorway. No
enemy was to be seen anywhere. Whitefoot crept out and climbed a little
higher up in the tree. Presently he found another hole. He peeped inside
and listened long and carefully. He didn't intend to make the mistake of
going into another house where some one might be living.

At last, sure that there was no one in there, he crept in. Then he made
a discovery. There were beech nuts in there and there were seeds.

It was a storehouse! Whitefoot knew at once that it must be Timmy's
sto