It must not be supposed that all of Kiddie Katydid's family made the same neverending din at night. Actually it was only the gentlemen that so amused themselves. No doubt the ladies, too, knew the secret about the mysterious Katy—and what she did.

But for some reason they never, never mentioned the matter. Even when they gossiped among themselves, as they sometimes did, they never touched upon that subject.

Furthermore, in the daytime Kiddie and his fellows were as quiet as they could be. Having waked the echoes all night long, they were content, when morning came, to rest silently among the trees and shrubs. And a very good reason did they have, too, for such a habit. During the day there were altogether too many birds flying about, to please the Katydids. And Kiddie often remarked in a joking way that the only birds he cared about were those that didn't care about him!

Of course, there were a few birds that prowled about Pleasant Valley after dark. Mr. Nighthawk was one of that crew of nightly wanderers. And whenever the word was passed around that he had been seen in the neighborhood, Kiddie Katydid tried to lower his solemn chant, because he knew that Mr. Nighthawk was usually in search of something to eat.

Now, when Kiddie Katydid felt hungry he drove away his gnawing pangs by browsing upon leaves and tender twigs. But Mr. Nighthawk had no taste for such fodder.

He had an appetite for insects. And between dusk and dawn a good many of Kiddie Katydid's neighbors of one kind or another found their way into Mr. Nighthawk's tummy.

So you see it was no wonder that Kiddie was not eager to attract the attention of that night rover. Some of the more timid of Kiddie's companions even begged him, at times, to hush. They said he was making such a noise that Mr. Nighthawk would be sure to hear it, even if he were a quarter of a mile away.

But Kiddie Katydid usually laughed at those faint-hearted ones; and often he shrilled his Katy did, Katy did, more loudly than before, just to show them that he was not afraid.

"A person has to take a few chances," he remarked one day. "If we were all afraid to make a sound it would be pretty hard on Katy, for then she would have nobody to take her part. And what would people think of her?"

Evidently Kiddie's reason was a good one, because a number of his cousins spoke up at once and said that they agreed with him perfectly.

But their sisters all exclaimed that sooner or later Mr. Nighthawk would hear them; and then there would certainly be trouble.

Strangely enough, the words were scarcely out of their mouths before they heard a loud call that struck them cold with fear.

Peent! Peent! The cry came out of the air above them without the least warning. And everybody—including Kiddie Katydid—knew that Mr. Nighthawk had come.