"Gone too; are you out for a scrap with the Huskies, my bad-tempered Friend?"
"Were you sweet-tempered, gentle Bird, when you burnt your toes, and scorched your gizzard with the Man-Cub's fat pork?"
"Well, sore toes are enough to ruffle one, aren't they, Hunchback,--Crop-eared Stealer of Things?"
"And your Men Friends took the leg off our King," continued Wolverine, ignoring the other's taunt. "The Red Widow is close to an attack of rabies with all this worry."
"You're full of stale news," retorted Jay.
"If they are all away," declared Carcajou, "I'm going to have another peep at that chimney. Also there are three debts to be paid."
The Bird chuckled. "Generous Little Lieutenant! leave my account out. But if you must go to the Shack, I'll keep watch and give you a call if I see them coming back."
"Fat-eating! but I hate climbing," grunted Wolverine, as he struggled up the over-reaching log-ends at one corner of the Shack. "If they had only left the door open--I never close the door of my Burrow."
He went down the chimney as though it were a ladder, his back braced against one side, and his strong curved claws holding in the dry mud of the other. Inside of the Shack he worked with exceeding diligence, deporting himself much after the manner of soldiers looting a King's palace.
Three bags of flour stood in a corner. "That's queer stuff," muttered Carcajou, ripping open the canvas. "Dry Eating!" and he scattered it with malignant fury. He pattered up and down in it, rolled in it, and generally had a pleasing, dusty time. The white stuff got in his throat and made him cough; the tickling developed a proper inebriate's thirst. Two zinc pails, full of water, sat on a wooden bench; the choking Animal perched on the edge of one, and tried to drink; but as he stooped over the spreading top his centre of gravity was disarranged somewhat, and his venture ended disastrously. The floor was clay, smooth-ironed by Francis's feet, so it held the fluid like a pot, and, incidentally, much batter of Wolverine's mixing was originated. He was still thirsty, and tried the other pail. That even did not last so long, for, as he was pulling himself up, somewhat out of temper, it tumbled heedlessly from the bench, and converted the Shack-floor into a white, alkaline-looking lake.