"Keep it! Keep it!" Grumpy Weasel hissed. "Your last idea only made me tired; and I haven't a capture to my credit to-night."
"That's because you ran too fast," Fatty explained glibly. "Now, if you'll be careful to run slowly, and do just as I tell you, I can promise that there'll be a capture, without fail."
Grumpy had had such bad luck in his hunting about the farmyard that he decided to listen, anyhow. He told himself
that he wouldn't take Fatty'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."