nd their families had long since gone to roost. And except
for a light that shone through a window, the farmhouse showed not a sign
of life.

Everything was as Solomon Owl wished it--or so he thought, at least, as he
alighted in a tree in the yard to look about him. He wanted no one to
interrupt him when he should go nosing around the chicken house, to find
an opening.

To his annoyance, he had not sat long in the tree when the wood-shed door
opened. And Solomon stared in amazement at the strange sight he saw.

A great head appeared, with eyes and mouth--yes! and nose, too--all a
glaring flame color. Solomon had never seen such a horrible face on man or
bird or beast. But he was sure it was a man, for he heard a laugh that was
not to be mistaken for either a beast's or a bird's. And the worst of it
was, those blazing eyes were turned squarely toward Farmer Green's chicken
house!

Solomon Owl was too wary to go for his fat pullet just then. He decided
that he would wait quietly in the tree for a time, hoping that the man
would go away.

While Solomon watched him the stranger neither moved nor spoke. And, of
course, Solomon Owl was growing hungrier every minute. So at last he felt
that he simply _must_ say something.

"Who-who-who-are-you?" he called out from his tree.

But the strange man did not answer. He did not even turn his head.

"He must be some city person," Solomon Owl said to himself. "He thinks
he's too good to speak to a countryman like me."

Then Solomon sat up and listened. He heard a scratching sound. And soon he
saw a plump figure crawl right up into his tree-top.

It was Fatty Coon!

"What are you doing here?" Solomon Owl asked in a low voice, which was not
any too pleasant.

"I'm out for an airing," Fatty answered. "Beautiful night--isn't it?"

But Solomon Owl was not interested in the weather. "I don't suppose you've
come down here to get a chicken, have you?" he inquired.

Fatty Coon seemed greatly surprised at the question.

"Why--no!" he exclaimed. "But now that you speak of it, it reminds me that
Farmer Green's saving a pullet for me. He was heard to say not long ago
that he would like to catch me taking one of his hens. So he must have one
for me. And I don't want to disappoint him."

At first Solomon Owl didn't know what answer to make. But at last he
turned his head toward Fatty.

"Why don't you go and get your pullet now?" he asked.

"There's that man down below, with the