"Tell me no more; I do not care about the guests. Hurry! Hurry! Where are they?" said Mr. Dog, dancing about so fast that Mr. Crow could not turn quick enough to keep up with him.
"Come along and I will show you," he said, and off he flew, keeping close to the ground so Mr. Dog could follow him.
The supper was still going on when they arrived; Mr. Crow flew to a tree close by, for he knew Mr. Dog could manage alone now that he had shown him the place.
Mr. Dog did not stop to knock; he bounded in through the window, taking off a shutter as he went.
Out of the back door, out of the front door, and out of the windows went the guests and their hosts, and after them, barking, went Mr. Dog.
"They are jolly fellows, all right, now," croaked Mr. Crow, as he watched them out of sight, "and now my party begins."
Mr. Crow went in and took all the spoons from the deserted supper table and carried them off to his house. He hid them under the bed and then he got in and went to sleep.
He did not even bother to go over to see Mr. Dog the next day, so little did he care how the chase came out. He knew Mr. Dog did not catch Mr. Possum or Mr. Coon, because he saw them both the next day; but that was all he knew and all he cared, for those were the two he had in his plan for revenge.
The next day when Mr. Coon was out—and Mr. Crow made sure he was not only away from home but out of the woods—Mr. Crow took all the spoons but one under his wing and went over to Mr. Coon's house and got in the cellar window.
He went upstairs and put those spoons between Mr. Coon's feather beds. Mr. Coon had two fat feather beds, always having plenty of feathers on hand as he did.