To find Grumpy Weasel, Tommy Fox went straight back to the place where he had left him. It was easy, then, to follow his queer tracks. Grumpy's legs were so short that they did not lift his lean body clear of the deep snow, except when he jumped very high; so his trail looked somewhat like that of a snake with legs.
As soon as Tommy overtook him he asked Grumpy if he had seen the stranger yet, who was dressed all in white and black, like him.
"No, I haven't. But I'm on the lookout for him all the time," said Grumpy.
"Where are you looking?" Tommy inquired.
"Oh! Everywhere!" Grumpy replied. "Behind the trees and in the bushes and back of the stone wall!"
"Have you seen any new tracks?" Tommy persisted.
"Not one!" Grumpy admitted. And then he thought he caught the flicker of a smile on Tommy Fox's narrow face. "If there is no such person—if you've been deceiving me——" he began angrily.
"I promise you that there is such a stranger in the neighborhood!" Tommy cried. "And if you don't meet him to-day I'll be as disappointed as you."
"It seems to me," Grumpy Weasel snapped, "you're altogether too anxious over this business. Everybody knows you're tricky. And I begin to think you're trying to get me into trouble."
It was wonderful, the way Tommy Fox could keep his temper. No matter what people said to him he could still smile if it would help him to have his way. And now he kept up a never-ending chatter, without saying anything in particular.
The snow was deep enough to have covered such hiding places as Grumpy Weasel liked. The stone wall, indeed, offered about the only crannies; and that was some distance away. Tommy Fox had noticed that. And that was why he was trying to keep Grumpy Weasel where he was. For Tommy expected Mr. Snowy Owl at any moment.
"You are talking foolishness," Grumpy told Tommy Fox at last. "I don't care to waste my time listening to you." And he turned away.
"One moment, please!" Tommy begged, for the sly rascal had just caught a glimpse of Mr. Snowy Owl hovering above the trees.
"What do you want now?" Grumpy Weasel scolded, as he paused close by the old hemlock where Solomon Owl sometimes sat and abused him.
"I want to see the fur fly," Tommy Fox answered wickedly.
For a moment Grumpy Weasel couldn't think what he meant. But suddenly he saw a large whitish shape dropping upon him out of the sky. He knew then, in a flash, that Tommy Fox had deceived him.
A moment more and it was all over. At least, it seemed so to Tommy Fox. Whatever had happened had taken place so quickly that he couldn't see it clearly. But there was Mr. Snowy Owl, sitting on a limb of the hemlock, where he had perched after staying half a second's time on the ground.
And Grumpy Weasel was no longer to be seen, anywhere.
"Did—did you swallow him?" Tommy Fox stammered.
Mr. Snowy Owl looked puzzled.
"I don't know," he replied. "Perhaps I did! If I didn't I don't know where he is."
Tommy Fox couldn't help looking disappointed. "I'm sorry about one thing," he said. "It was all done so quickly I didn't see the fur fly!"
Then there was a faint sound above them. And looking up, Tommy and Mr. Owl saw Grumpy Weasel's head sticking out of a small hole high up in the tree-trunk.
As they watched him Grumpy Weasel seemed to be saying something to them. They couldn't hear what it was. But no doubt it was nothing pleasant.