Mr. Martin was not in the store when they trudged back, but one of the clerks gave them what they wanted.
“Don’t eat too much cheese,” he warned them. “It isn’t good for Curlytops.”
“Oh we’re not going to eat it,” said Janet.
“It’s for the lame, tame crow,” added Ted.
“What in the world are those kiddies up to now, I wonder,” said one clerk to another. “Talking about a lame, tame crow, and taking him out some cheese!”
“Don’t ask me,” chuckled his companion. “They do more things in a day than I could think of in a week. And that small chap—the one they call Trouble—say, he’s a tyke!”
“He certainly is. Well, I only hope they won’t get sick eating the cheese, and have Mr. Martin blame me for giving it to them.”
However, Ted and Janet had no idea of eating the cheese, though they liked a little nibble now and then. But this cheese was for the lame, tame crow they were sure they had seen in the woods. They were quite certain it was Mr. Jenk’s black pet and they hoped to get the ten dollars reward.
But the woods at Mount Major and around their camp were wide and long, and though the children did not know it, hunting for a certain crow in them was like looking for a needle in the haystack.
On and on through the woods tramped the Curlytops. It was a pleasant day and it was early, for they had set off on their picnic soon after dinner. They had with them some lunch for themselves and the cheese for the crow—if they should happen to find Jim.