Chapter VII
The Red Rogue
The Red Rogue was a rogue, not because he was red, but because he comes from a roguish and a rascally family, so perhaps it was not so much his fault. If one's forebears have been bad for untold generations it is hard to break away from the habit, so I do not condemn him altogether.
Besides, his badness was only of the mischievous order, with one exception which I will mention later.
I had owned many red squirrels when I was a boy. All of these I caught in a box trap. They were always kept in a cage. Sometimes they died after a long season of captivity, but more frequently I let them go when I had become tired of watching their antics.
But the Red Rogue came to me in quite a different manner. I simply stooped down
