“I guess we’ve got to the right place,” whispered Ted, as he heard the “caw! caw!”
“Yes, set the trap now,” agreed Janet.
Accordingly the box was propped up on the stick and Ted, with the end of the string in his hand, hid off behind a distant bush with Janet, where they could watch the scattered corn under the box.
But though the cawing of the crows sounded nearer, none came to the trap, and after a long wait the Curlytops thought they had better try a new place. They did, but all they caught in their trap was a hoptoad, and this they soon let go.
“Well, maybe we’ll catch a crow some other day,” said Ted.
“Maybe,” agreed his sister.
They wandered on through the pleasant woods, and soon Ted cried:
“Look, there goes a fox!”
“Where?” cried Janet.
“In that hollow log,” and Ted pointed to one on the ground—an old giant of a fallen tree which had rotted from the inside until it was quite hollow, like a pipe. “I’m going in and catch that fox,” decided Ted. “I’d rather catch a fox, any day, than a crow.”