Now Reddy knew perfectly well that Blacky wanted something of him, and this was why he was saying such pleasant things.  Blacky the Crow knew that Reddy knew this thing, and that if he would make use of Reddy as he hoped to, he must contrive to keep Reddy wholly in the dark as to what he wanted done.

So as they sat there, Reddy Fox on the snow with his tail curled around his feet to keep them warm, and Blacky the Crow in the top of a little tree above Reddy’s head, they were playing a sort of game.  It was red wits against black wits.  Reddy was trying to outguess Blacky, and Blacky was trying to outguess Reddy, and both were enjoying it.  People with sharp wits always enjoy matching their wits against other sharp wits.

When Reddy Fox said that in spite of his fine appearance he had forgotten when last he had had a good meal, Blacky pretended to think he was joking.  “You surprise me,” said he.  “Whatever is the matter with my good friend Reddy, that he goes hungry when he no longer has anything to fear from Bowser the Hound.  By the way, I saw Bowser the other day.”

At this, just for an instant, Reddy’s eyes flew wide open.  Then they half closed again until they were just two yellow slits.  But quickly as he closed them, Blacky had seen that startled surprise.  “Yes,” said Blacky, “I saw Bowser the other day, or at least some one who looked just like him.  Wouldn’t you like to have him back here, Reddy?”

“Most decidedly no,” replied Reddy with great promptness.  “A dog is a nuisance.  He isn’t of any use in the wide, wide world.”

“Not even to drive off Old Man Coyote?” asked Blacky slyly, for he knew that more than once Bowser the Hound had helped Reddy out of trouble with Old Man Coyote.

Reddy pretended not to hear this.  “I don’t believe you saw Bowser,” said he.  “I don’t believe anybody will ever see Bowser again.  I hope not, anyway.”  And Blacky knew by the way Reddy said this that it would be quite useless to ask Reddy to help get Bowser home.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE ARTFULNESS OF BLACKY

    Who runs in circles never gets far.

    Bowser the Hound.

To be artful is to be very clever.  It is to do things in a way so clever that people will not see what you are really doing.  No one can be more artful than Blacky the Crow when he sets out to be.

Blacky was smart enough not to let Reddy know that he was seeking Reddy’s help for Bowser.  He soon found out that Reddy would not knowingly help the least little bit, so he decided at once that the only thing for him to do was to get Reddy to help unsuspectingly.  He changed the subject very abruptly.

“How are the chickens at Farmer Brown’s?” inquired he.

Reddy looked up and grinned.  “They seem to be in just as good health as ever,” said he, “so far as I can judge.  Farmer Brown’s boy seems to be terribly suspicious.  He locks them up at night so tight that not even Shadow the Weasel could get his nose inside that henhouse.”