Whitefoot was hurt. Yes, sir, Whitefoot was hurt. He was very much hurt. It wasn't a bodily hurt; it was an inside hurt. It was a hurt that made his heart ache. And to make it worse, he couldn't understand it at all. One evening he had been met at the little round doorway by little Mrs. Whitefoot.
"You can't come in," said she.
"Why can't I?" demanded Whitefoot, in the greatest surprise.
"Never mind why. You can't, and that is all there is to it," replied Mrs. Whitefoot.
"You mean I can't ever come in any more?" asked Whitefoot.
"I don't know about that," replied Mrs. Whitefoot, "but you can't come in now, nor for some time. I think the best thing you can do is to go back to your old home in the hollow stub."
Whitefoot stared at little Mrs. Whitefoot quite as if he thought she had go
