"Where did you catch him?" Peter Mink asked his cousin.
Grumpy Weasel said in a few ill-chosen words that he hadn't caught Jimmy Rabbit at all, and that somebody had played a trick on him. He looked directly at Mr. Crow as he spoke.
"It wasn't Johnny Green, was it?" Mr. Crow inquired solemnly as he moved carefully to a higher limb.
Grumpy Weasel could tell, then, without a doubt, that it was Mr. Crow that had
made him lose the race. Grumpy had followed hot on Jimmy Rabbit's tracks. And to his surprise they led straight toward the farm buildings. But Grumpy kept on and never stopped until he reached the farmyard fence where he crouched and watched Jimmy disappear—of all places!—right in the woodshed, where Johnny Green was picking up an armful of wood.
Of course Grumpy Weasel wouldn't think of entering such a dangerous place. And when he heard a shout and saw Johnny Green come out with Jimmy 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 Jimmy Rabbit's head," Grumpy said savagely to himself as he turned and made for 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 do to Mr. Crow if he could ever get hold of him. So you can see that he must have looked very dangerous when he reached his hunting ground; and you can understand why Mr. Crow took pains to change his seat.
"I may have lost the race—through a trick," Grumpy hissed as he glared at Mr. Crow. "But one thing is certain: That young Jimmy Rabbit will trouble us no more. He's Johnny Green's prisoner."