But the more he thought about the matter, the less he was inclined to believe that there was really any danger. And soon he peered at Kiddie Katydid through the darkness and said:
"You almost fooled me. But I know now what you were trying to do. You were trying to scare me away from here!"
"Katy did, Katy did; she did, she did!"
"You needn't say that!" Mr. Nighthawk exclaimed. "Katy has nothing to do with my case. She hasn't even mentioned Solomon Owl's name."
"You don't understand," Kiddie told him. "I'm speaking of an entirely different matter."
And then Mr. Nighthawk had another idea. He chased the frown away from his face and smiled very pleasantly.
"I'm sorry that you don't feel like jumping for me," he observed. "But I'd be just as glad to see you fly! I remember being told that you fly almost as well as you jump."
"Oh, I can't begin to fly as well as you can," Kiddie Katydid told Mr. Nighthawk. "I only wish I knew how to coast down out of the sky the way you do, without being dashed upon the ground. . . . How do you manage to stop so suddenly?"
"Pooh! That's nothing!" Mr. Nighthawk said. "It's easy, once you know how."
In spite of his way of belittling his flying feats, Mr. Nighthawk was secretly very proud of his skill at sky-coasting. And when Kiddie Katydid asked him if he wouldn't kindly give an exhibition of the art of fancy flying, Mr. Nighthawk couldn't help feeling pleased.