Not until Grumpy Weasel returned some time later did any one know whatMr. Crow meant.
Grumpy Weasel was in a terrible temper when he came slowly back.Everybody could tell, without asking, that the race was ended.
"Where did you catch him?" Peter Mink asked his cousin.
Grumpy Weasel said in a few ill-chosen words that he hadn't caught JimmyRabbit at all, and that somebody had played a trick on him. He lookeddirectly at Mr. Crow as he spoke.
"It wasn't Johnny Green, was it?" Mr. Crow inquired solemnly as he movedcarefully to a higher limb.
Grumpy Weasel could tell, then, without a doubt, that it was Mr. Crowthat had made him lose the race. Grumpy had followed hot on JimmyRabbit's tracks. And to his surprise they led straight toward the farmbuildings. But Grumpy kept on and never stopped until he reached thefarmyard fence where he crouched and watched Jimmy disappear--of allplaces!--right in the woodshed, where Johnny Green was picking up anarmful of wood.
Of course Grumpy Weasel wouldn't think of entering such a dangerousplace. And when he heard a shout and saw Johnny Green come out withJimmy Rabbit in his arms he knew that Jimmy Rabbit had won the race,even if he had lost his freedom.
"It was that old black rascal, Mr. Crow, that put that notion into JimmyRabbit's head," Grumpy said savagely to himself as he turned and madefor the woods. "They were talking together a little while ago."
And all the way back to the stone wall he kept thinking what he would doto Mr. Crow if he could ever get hold of him. So you can see that hemust have looked very dangerous when he reached his hunting ground; andyou can understand why Mr. Crow took pains to change his seat.
"I may have lost the race--through a trick," Grumpy hissed as he glaredat Mr. Crow. "But one thing is certain: That young Jimmy Rabbit willtrouble us no more. He's Johnny Green's prisoner."
"Nonsense!" cried Mr. Crow. "He'll escape some fine day."
"Nonsense! He won't!" Grumpy Weasel disputed. And he never begged Mr.Crow's pardon. And neither did Peter Mink apologize to the oldgentleman, as Mr. Crow had said he would. So in one way Mr. Crow waswrong. But in another way he was right. For it wasn't a week beforeJimmy Rabbit appeared in the woods again, as spry as ever.
XIII
SILLY MRS. HEN
Strange to say, Grumpy Weasel was trying to be pleasant. Of course hedidn't really know how, for he always practiced being surly and rude. Itmust be confessed, too, that he had succeeded in making himself heartilydisliked by everybody that knew him.
There were a few, however, who had yet to learn of Grumpy Weasel's badtraits. Among these was a foolish, fat hen who lived in Farmer Green'shenhouse. And now Grumpy Weasel was doing his best to make a goodimpression on her.
It is no wonder, perhaps, that this lady was unaware of her caller'sreal nature. For Grumpy was careful, as a rule, to visit the farmyardonly after dark. And being a person of quiet habits Mrs. Hen was alwaysabed and asleep at that time.
Grumpy found it a bit difficult to chat with Mrs. Hen because old dogSpot was sprawled on the farmhouse steps; and naturally Grumpy felt likekeeping one eye on him. But the other he turned, as well as he could, onMrs. Hen, who was in the henyard looking for worms. Just outside thewire fence Grumpy Weasel crouched and told Mrs. Hen how well she waslooking.
His pretty speeches pleased Mrs. Hen so much that she actually let a fatangleworm get away from her because she hadn't her mind on what she wasdoing. She noticed meanwhile that one of her neighbors was makingfrantic motions, as if she had something important to say. So Mrs. Hensauntered across the henyard to find out what it was.
"Don't you know whom you're talking to?" the neighbor demanded in a loudwhisper. "That's Grumpy Weasel--the worst rascal in all these parts."
Somehow that sent a pleasant flutter of excitement through Mrs. Hen. Atthe same time she couldn't quite believe the news, because her callerhad said such very pleasant things.
"Don't worry!" she told her neighbor. "I'm old enough to look out formyself."
"I should say so!" her neighbor cried. "You're three years old if you'rea day!"
"I'm not!" Mrs. Hen retorted. "I'm only two and a half." Her featherswere all ruffled up and she went straight back and told Grumpy Weaselwhat her neighbor had said about him.
"You don't believe that, I hope," Grumpy ventured.
Mrs. Hen clucked and tried to look wise. And at last she confided toGrumpy that her neighbor was a jealous creature and sure to speak ill ofa stranger who came to call on anybody but herself.
Well, Grumpy Weasel told Mrs. Hen that he knew, when he first set eyeson her, that she was a sensible little body.
"You've a snug home here," he went on. "I can tell you that I'd likesuch a place to crawl into on a chilly, wet night." And though it was awarm, fine summer's day he shivered and shook, so Mrs. Hen could see.
And silly Mrs. Hen couldn't help feeling sorry for him.
XIV
GRUMPY VANISHES
Grumpy Weasel was quick to see that fat Mrs. Hen swallowed every word hesaid as greedily as if it had been an angleworm. "Yes! You have a finehouse here," he said. "But of course you're crowded," he added gloomily,to show Mrs. Hen that he knew she had no place for him.
"Oh! Not at all!" Mrs. Hen assured him.
"And the door's always shut tight at night," he added, "on account ofthat prowling Tommy Fox."
"Yes! We have to be careful," said Mrs. Hen.
"And there's Peter Mink, too," Grumpy went on. "Don't leave an openingbig enough for him! He can get through a small hole, too--any that's bigenough for his head."
At that Mrs. Hen looked startled, as if she had just rememberedsomething that made her feel uneasy.
"He couldn't get through a rat hole, could he?" she inquired nervously.
"Why--there isn't one here, is there?" Grumpy asked.
"There is an old one," she admitted. "It hasn't been used in my time."
"If I could see it I'd know at once whether Pete could crawl throughit," Grumpy Weasel said, talking to himself--or so it seemed to Mrs.Hen.
"I'll show it to you gladly!" she cried. "Do come right in and look atour rat hole, Mr. Weasel!"
As she spoke, Mrs. Hen started for the henhouse. And after her creptGrumpy Weasel, hoping that nobody else would see him. So far as he couldtell, the hens were all out of doors, scratching in the dirt. Butsuddenly Mrs. Hen's jealous neighbor began to set up a great squawking,calling upon Mrs. Hen to be careful, for she was in great danger.
Fat Mrs. Hen turned about with a vexed look upon her handsome butsomewhat stupid face.
"Walk right in!" she said to Grumpy. "I must stop and settle with her.She has gone too far." And leaving Grumpy to find the rat hole withouther help, Mrs. Hen fluttered across the henyard with her head thrustforward, to give her meddlesome neighbor a number of hard pecks and soteach her to mind her own affairs.
With a low chuckle Grumpy Weasel slipped inside the henhouse, where hefound himself quite alone. It took him but a few moments to discover inone corner of the building the old rat hole of which Mrs. Hen hadspoken.
And then he went to the door and looked out, for Mrs. Hen and herneighbor were making a terrific racket. He saw the end of the squabble.And soon Mrs. Hen came running back, with her feathers sadly rumpled,and her comb awry.
"I settled with her," she gasped. "And now tell me about the rat hole.Could Peter Mink get through it?"
"No, he couldn't!" Grumpy Weasel said. Then he dodged strangely backinto the henhouse. And though Mrs. Hen hopped in after him she couldn'tfind him anywhere.
She couldn't understand it.
XV
THE GREAT MYSTERY
The story soon spread all around the farmyard, how fat Mrs. Hen had beenseen talking with no less a rascal than Grumpy Weasel.
Everybody told her that it was a dangerous thing to do and that it was awonder she had escaped, until Mrs. Hen began to feel that she was quitethe most important person in the neighborhood. Even old dog Spot askedher some questions one
day--some of which she could answer, and some ofwhich she could not.
For one thing, she couldn't (or wouldn't) tell what way Grumpy left thefarmyard. "He just jumped back and was gone before I knew it," she said.
"That's what they all say," said Spot. "He's so quick you never can seehim go."
Now, Mrs. Hen ought to have explained that Grumpy Weasel disappearedfrom inside the henhouse. But she was not a person of much sense. Bythat time she began to think that perhaps Grumpy Weasel was as bad asthe neighbors had said. And she was afraid that her relations might findfault with her if they learned that she had invited Grumpy to entertheir house. Silly Mrs. Hen decided that she wouldn't tell what she haddone. But she never tired of talking about what she called "the greatmystery"--meaning "Where did Grumpy Weasel go?"
It was simple enough. To escape meeting old dog Spot, Grumpy Weasel hadcrawled into the old rat hole. It suited him quite well to do that, formore than one reason. Not only did he avoid trouble, but he found theother end of the rat hole. Silly Mrs. Hen had done exactly as he hadhoped. She had shown him a way to get into the henhouse at night inspite of locks and bolts and doors. And Grumpy Weasel went off to thewoods well pleased with himself.
"Perhaps, after all, it pays to be pleasant," he said--just as if thatwas a reason! But he stopped short all at once. "There's that stupidMrs. Hen," he cried aloud. "She was pleasant; but it won't pay her, inthe end!" So he decided on the spot that he would keep on being surly.It would be much easier for him, anyhow.
That very night Grumpy Weasel stole back to the henhouse. And he wasjust about to creep up to the old rat hole, pausing first to take asearching look all around, when he saw a motionless figure sitting on alow-hanging limb of a tree near-by. It was Solomon Owl. And Grumpy couldsee that he was staring at the rat hole as if he were waiting forsomebody.
Grumpy Weasel knew at once that that rat hole was no safe place for him.Very gingerly he drew back into a deep shadow. And as he ponderedsilently he saw a huge rat step out of the hole. Solomon Owl swoopeddown and grabbed the fellow before he knew what was happening.
Well, Grumpy Weasel saw that all his trouble had gone for nothing. SillyMrs. Hen hadn't known what she was talking about. If Solomon Owl was inthe habit of watching that hole Grumpy certainly didn't mean to go nearit.
Of course he was angry. But Mrs. Hen never learned what he said abouther. No matter what remarks her neighbors made, she always insistedafterward that Grumpy Weasel was one of the most pleasant and politegentlemen she had ever met.
XVI
GUARDING THE CORNCRIB
Grumpy Weasel never seemed to have anything but bad luck whenever hewent near the farmyard. Perhaps that was the reason why he kept goingback there, for he was nothing if not determined. Anyhow, he had foundthe hunting poor along his stone wall in the woods. And there was somuch "game," as he called it, about the farm buildings that he thoughtit was silly to leave it for such scamps as Peter Mink and Tommy Fox andFatty Coon.
So he took to loitering near Farmer Green's corncrib. And he was not atall pleased to find Fatty Coon there one evening. He wouldn't havespoken to Fatty at all had not that plump young chap hurled a cuttingremark directly at him: "There are no chickens in this building. This isa corncrib."
"Don't you suppose I know that?" Grumpy retorted. "I've come here toguard the corn from mice and squirrels."
"There's no need of your doing that," Fatty Coon told him. "Have younever noticed those tin pans, upside down, on top of the posts on whichthe corncrib rests? How could a mouse or a squirrel ever climb past oneof those?"
"There are ways," Grumpy Weasel said wisely.
"I doubt it," Fatty replied. "I don't believe the trick can be done."
Then, not to oblige Fatty, but to show him he was mistaken, Grumpyclimbed a tree near-by, dropped from one of its branches to the roof ofthe corncrib, and quickly found a crack in the side of the buildingthrough which he slipped with no trouble at all.
Suddenly there was a great scurrying and scrambling inside. And soonFatty Coon saw Frisky Squirrel and several of his friends--not tomention three frightened mice--come tumbling out and tear off in everydirection.
Presently Grumpy Weasel stuck his head through a crack between twoboards.
"Did you catch the robbers?" he called to Fatty Coon.
"They were too spry for me," Fatty told him. He wouldn't have stoppedone anyhow, for Grumpy Weasel.
"Which way did they go, old Slow Poke?" Grumpy cried as he jumped downin great haste.
"Everywhere!" Fatty told him.
"Can't you be a little more exact? You don't think--do you?--that I canrun more than one way at a time?"
"Why don't you run round and round in a circle?" Fatty suggested. "Inthat way you might catch at least half those youngsters--and perhaps allof them."
"That's the first real idea you ever had in your life!" Grumpyexclaimed--which was as near to thanking a person as he was ever knownto come.
XVII
GRUMPY'S MISTAKE
As soon as Grumpy Weasel left to chase the squirrels and mice that hehad frightened away from the corncrib Fatty Coon hurried into thebuilding through a hole in the floor which nobody knew but himself.
Though he was a great eater Fatty was also a fast one. And now he bolteda huge meal of corn in only a few minutes. Then, smiling broadly, heleft the corncrib by his private doorway and squatted down to awaitGrumpy's return.
In a little while Grumpy appeared.
"I hoped I'd see you again," Fatty Coon told him. "Did you have anyluck?"
"No!" Grumpy Weasel snapped. "I was mistaken about your idea. It was avery poor one. For I've been running in a circle (as you suggested) tillI'm dizzy; and I haven't seen the least sign of a mouse nor a squirrel."
Fatty Coon told him to cheer up.
"I've another idea for you," he said.
"Keep it! Keep it!" Grumpy Weasel hissed. "Your last idea only made metired; and I haven't a capture to my credit to-night."
"That's because you ran too fast," Fatty explained glibly. "Now, ifyou'll be careful to run slowly, and do just as I tell you, I canpromise that there'll be a capture, without fail."
Grumpy Weasel Visits the Corncrib. (_Page 70_)]
Grumpy had had such bad luck in his hunting about the farmyard that hedecided to listen, anyhow. He told himself that he wouldn't takeFatty's advice unless it was much better than he expected.
"Well--go on!" he grunted.
"Do you see that little house near the woodshed?" Fatty Coon asked him."It has a low doorway that's always open, and no windows at all."
"Yes!" said Grumpy Weasel harshly. "Of course I see it. I'm not blind."
"Do you know who lives there?"
"I always supposed that it belonged to Johnnie Green," said Grumpy. "Hisfather is big and lives in the big house, and Johnnie is little andlives in the little house."
Fatty Coon laughed merrily.
"You don't know as much as I thought you did!" he cried. It may be thatFatty had set out to make Grumpy angry. Anyhow, Grumpy's eyes burned inthe darkness like two coals of fire.
"I'm right about that little house," he wrangled.
"Nonsense!" Fatty Coon exclaimed. And that made Grumpy angrier thanever.
"You learned that word of old Mr. Crow!" he grumbled. "It's his favoriteexpression; and I can't endure it."
"You don't need to stay here and listen to it," Fatty Coon said. "If youdared to you could run over to Johnnie Green's house (as you call it);and if you found that you were right about it I promise you I'd neversay 'Nonsense' again."
If Grumpy Weasel hadn't been so angry perhaps he wouldn't have been soeager to prove himself right. While Fatty watched him he bounded acrossthe farmyard and stopped at the doorway of the tiny house. And then hebounded back again, a great deal faster, with old dog Spot yelpingbehind him.
Fatty Coon did not wait for anything more. He made for the woods at topspeed, grinning as he went.
The next day he pretende
d to be surprised to meet Grumpy.
"You must have forgotten my advice," he said. "I promised you that therewould be a capture if you ran slowly. But it's plain that you ran toofast, or you wouldn't be here."
"Nonsense!" Grumpy Weasel shouted, flying into a passion at once. And heoften wondered, afterward, what Fatty Coon found to laugh at.
XVIII
POP! GOES THE WEASEL
There were many things that did not please Grumpy Weasel--things thatalmost any one else would have liked. For instance, there was music. ThePleasant Valley Singing Society, to which most of the bird peoplebelonged, did not number Grumpy Weasel among its admirers. He nevercared to hear a bird sing--not even Jolly Robin's cousin the Hermit, whowas one of the most beautiful singers in the woods. And as for BuddyBrown Thrasher, whom most people thought a brilliant performer, GrumpyWeasel always groaned whenever he heard him singing in the topmostbranches of a tree.
A bird-song--according to Grumpy Weasel--was of use in only one way: ittold you where the bird was. And that was a help, of course, if you weretrying to catch him.
Nor did the musical Frog family's nightly concerts have much charm forGrumpy, though he did admit that some of their songs were not so bad asothers.
"I can stand it now and then," he said, "to hear a good, glum croaking,provided there are plenty of discords."
Naturally, knowing how he felt, Grumpy Weasel's neighbors never invitedhim to listen to their concerts. On the contrary they usually asked himplease to go away, if he happened to come along. Certainly nobody couldsing his best, with such a listener.