Of course Dickie Deer Mouse ought not to have been so ready to believe that stray bit of gossip about Mr. Crow. It is true that the old black scamp had talked about moving to a new place nearer Farmer Green's cornfield. But his plan had gone no further than that.

He was sound asleep in his bed when Dickie Deer Mouse jumped down beside him. And when Mr. Crow suddenly waked up it would be very hard to say which of the two was the more startled.

For a few moments Mr. Crow screamed loudly for help. And he flapped and floundered about as if he didn't know which way to turn, nor what to do.

During the uproar Dickie Deer Mouse managed to slip out of Mr. Crow's house without being seen. But he was too polite to run away. Instead of hurrying off to escape a scolding from Mr. Crow he clung to a near-by branch and called as loudly as he could:

"Don't be alarmed, sir! There's no one here but me. And I ask your pardon for disturbing you."

Dickie Deer Mouse had to repeat that speech several times before Mr. Crow noticed him. But at last the old gentleman caught sight of his visitor. And when he heard what Dickie said he looked far from pleasant.

"Asking my pardon is one thing," Mr. Crow spluttered. "And receiving it is another."

"I'm very sorry," Dickie Deer Mouse replied. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Mr. Crow gave a sudden hoarse haw-haw.

"Pooh!" he cried. "You don't think I was scared, do you?"

"You called for help," Dickie reminded him.

"Certainly I did," Mr. Crow agreed. "I wanted somebody to help you out of my house, before I trampled on you and broke one of your legs—or maybe two or three of 'em."

That explanation gave Dickie Deer Mouse another surprise; for he had supposed all the time that Mr. Crow didn't know who—or what—had awakened him.

"Oh!" he cried. "I thought that you thought I was somebody else."

Mr. Crow glared at him.

"I thought that you thought that I thought——" he squalled. He was so angry that his tongue became sadly twisted; and he all but choked.

Meanwhile Dickie Deer Mouse waited respectfully until Mr. Crow had recovered his speech.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" Mr. Crow demanded at last.

"I thought——" Dickie began.

"There you go again!" the old gentleman interrupted him testily. "I didn't ask you what you thought. I asked you what you were doing."

"I'm not doing anything just now," Dickie Deer Mouse faltered.

"Yes, you are!" Mr. Crow corrected him. "You're sitting on a limb of my tree.... Get off it at once!"

So Dickie Deer Mouse moved to a more distant perch.

"Now you're sitting on another!" Mr. Crow exploded. "Get out of my tree this instant!" It always made him ill-tempered to be awakened from a sound sleep in the middle of the night.

Once more Dickie Deer Mouse asked his pardon.

"I was told," he explained, "that you had moved lately. And I did not expect to find you here."

"Ah!" said Mr. Crow. "I know now why you came sneaking into my house. You'd like to live here yourself."

"Pardon me!" Dickie Deer Mouse exclaimed with the lowest of bows. "You are mistaken, Mr. Crow. Though your house is a fine, large one, it's much too small to hold us both."

And whisking about, while Mr. Crow stared at him, he ran down the tall elm as fast as he could go.

It was clear that if Mr. Crow wasn't going to move he would have to look elsewhere for a summer home.