"He's a Red-headed Woodpecker," Mr. Crow announced with a wise tilt of his own head. "There hasn't been one of his kind in Pleasant Valley for years and years.... It's a pity," he added, "that this one has stopped here."
The old gentleman's words threw little Mrs. Chippy into a flutter.
"Is he a dangerous person?" she quavered.
"I believe so," said Mr. Crow darkly.
"Does he eat eggs?" Mrs. Chippy faltered. "And nestlings?"
For a moment or two old Mr. Crow couldn't make up his mind whether he ought to get angry or not. Eating eggs and young birds was a subject he liked to avoid. He was aware that his neighbors knew he was a rascal. But he was a quick-witted old fellow. Suddenly he saw how the presence of this stranger might help him.
"Yes!" he told Mrs. Chippy. "This Woodpecker family all eat eggs and nestlings. And if you people miss any of your treasures, later, you'll know who took them."
At that little Mr. Chippy nodded his chestnut-crowned head.
"If it isn't you," he remarked to Mr. Crow, "then it will be the stranger."
"Not at all! Not at all!" the old gentleman squawked. "You'll be safe in thinking the newcomer guilty." Then he turned his back on Mr. Chippy, as if that small, shrinking chap weren't worth noticing. And favoring Mrs. Chippy with what he thought was a pleasant smile, Mr. Crow said to her, "You mustn't let this Red-head know where your nest is. No doubt you have eggs in it already."