Sly Fox escapes on the car.
“Well, in the first place,” said Sly Fox, “the Running Houses only stop when you wave your paw to the man at the front door. Now, if I were you I would stand right in front of the next one as it comes along and then I would make a low bow and wave my paw. That is the way your master gets them to stop.”
“I’ll do that,” said Ugly Dog, “just as soon as I get rested. But how is it that you are all out of breath, too?”
“Well,” answered the Sly Fox, coughing in a funny sort of a way and shuffling his feet around, “you know that I am a doctor, and I was called in a hurry to see two little chickens which had the croup in their crops.”
“Is that so?” asked Ugly Dog, “and are they better now?”
“Those dear, little chickens,” answered Sly Fox, as he stroked his white mustache, “will never be bothered by having anything in their crops again.”
Just then there was a whirring sound way up the road and Sly Fox jumped up.
“My friend,” he said, “I think that another Running House is coming. If I were you I would hurry up and get right in front of it.”