It was some three hours after sunset when Solomon Owl at last reached Farmer Green's place. All was quiet in the chicken house because the hens and roosters and 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 c.o.o.n!

"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 c.o.o.n 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 glaring eyes-" said Fatty c.o.o.n.

"I've been waiting around here for quite a long time and he hasn't looked away from the chicken house even once.... Do you know him?"

"No! And I don't want to!" said Solomon Owl.

"S-sh!" Fatty c.o.o.n held up a warning hand. "Who's that?" he asked, peering down at a dark object at the foot of their tree.

Then both he and Solomon saw that it was Tommy Fox, sitting on his haunches and staring at the big head, with its blazing eyes and nose and mouth.

"Not looking for chickens, I suppose?" Solomon Owl called in a low tone, which was hardly more than a whisper.

But Tommy Fox's sharp ears heard him easily. And he looked up, licking his chops as if he were very hungry indeed. And all the while the stranger continued to stare straight at the chicken house, as if he did not intend to let anybody go

prowling about that long, low building to steal any of Farmer Green's poultry.

It was no wonder that the three chicken-lovers (two in the tree and one beneath it) hesitated. If the queer man had only spoken they might not have been so timid. But he said never a word.

VIII WATCHING THE CHICKENS

Solomon Owl and Fatty c.o.o.n couldn't help laughing at what Tommy Fox said to them, as they sat in their tree near the farmhouse, looking down at him in the moonlight.

"I'm here to watch Farmer Green's chickens for him-" said he-"to see that no rat-or anybody else-runs away with a pullet."

"Farmer Green has someone else watching for him to-night," said Solomon Owl, when he had stopped laughing. "There's that strange man! You can see how he keeps his glaring eyes fixed on the chicken house. And unless I'm mistaken, he's on the lookout for _you_."

"No such thing!" Tommy Fox snapped. And he looked up at Solomon as if he wished that he could climb the tree.

"Here comes somebody else!" Fatty c.o.o.n exclaimed suddenly. His keen eyes had caught sight of Jimmy Rabbit, hopping along on his way to the vegetable garden, to see if he couldn't find a stray cabbage or a turnip.

Solomon Owl called to him. Whereupon, Jimmy Rabbit promptly sat up and looked at the odd trio. If it hadn't been for Tommy Fox he would have drawn nearer.

"Do you know that stranger?" Solomon Owl asked him, pointing out the horrible head to Jimmy.

"I haven't the pleasure," said Jimmy Rabbit, after he had taken a good look.

"Well," said Solomon, "won't you kindly speak to him; and ask him to go away?"

"Certainly!" answered Jimmy Rabbit, who always tried to be obliging.

"I hope the stranger won't eat him," remarked Tommy Fox, "because I hope to do that some day, myself."

It was queer-but Jimmy Rabbit was the only one of the four that wasn't afraid of those glaring features. He hopped straight up to the big round head, which was just a bit higher than one of the fence posts, against which the stranger seemed to be leaning. And after a moment or two Jimmy Rabbit called to Solomon and Fatty and Tommy Fox:

"He won't go away! He's going to stay right where he is!"

"Come here a minute!" said Tommy.

Jimmy Rabbit shook his head.

"You come over here!" he answered. And he did not stir from the side of the stranger. He knew very well that Tommy Fox was afraid of the man with the head with the glaring eyes.

As for Tommy Fox, he did not even reply-that is, to Jimmy Rabbit. But he spoke his mind freely enough to his two friends in the tree.

"It seems to me one of you ought to do something," said he. "We'll eat no pullets to-night if we can't get rid of this meddlesome stranger."

Fatty c.o.o.n quite agreed with him.

"The one who was here first is the one to act!" Fatty declared. "That's _you_!" he told Solomon Owl.