"She did what?" Mr. Nighthawk wanted to know—through his nose.
But Kiddie Katydid declined to answer that question. He merely hugged his wings closer to his green body, and shot a sly glance at Mr. Nighthawk, as if to say, "Ah! That's for you to find out! But I shan't tell you!"
Mr. Nighthawk looked rather foolish. He had always supposed that any one who spent a good part of every night saying the same thing over and over and over again must be quite dull-witted. But now he began to think that perhaps Kiddie Katydid was brighter than the field people generally believed him to be. And when Kiddie suddenly asked him a question, he was sure of his mistake.
"Did you know," said Kiddie, "that Solomon Owl often visits these farm buildings?"
"Why, no! I wasn't aware of that," Mr. Nighthawk replied with a quick, nervous look behind him. "What brings him here?"
"Chickens!" Kiddie Katydid explained. "Solomon Owl is very fond of chickens. But they do say that he's not above eating a nighthawk when he happens to stumble upon one."
V
SOLOMON OWL'S CRY
For a few moments Mr. Nighthawk fidgeted about on his branch of the maple tree. What Kiddie Katydid said to him about Solomon Owl frightened him. And he almost wished he hadn't come to Farmer Green's dooryard that night.