“There isn’t any but, Reddy,” interrupted Granny. “You know the law of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest. It is everybody for himself, and anything belongs to one who has the wit or the strength to take it. We had the wit to take that dinner from Bowser the Hound, and Old Man Coyote had the wit to take it from us and the strength to keep it. It was all fair enough, and you know there isn’t the least use in crying over spilled milk, as the saying is. We simply have got to be smart enough not to let him fool us again. I guess we won’t get any more of Bowser’s dinners for a while. We’ve got to think of some other way of filling our stomachs when the hunting is poor. I think if I could have just one of those fat hens of Farmer Brown’s, it would put new strength into my old bones. All summer I warned you to keep away from that henyard, but the time has come now when I think we might try for a couple of those hens.” Reddy pricked up his ears at the mention of fat hens. “I think so too,” said he. “When shall we try for one?” “To-morrow morning,” replied Granny. “Now don’t bother me while I think out a plan.” CHAPTER XXII Granny Fox Plans To Get A Fat Hen Full half success for Fox or Man Is won by working out a plan. —_Old Granny Fox_. Granny Fox knows this. No one knows it better. Whatever she does is first carefully planned in her wise old head. So now after she had decided that she and Reddy would try for one of Farmer Brown’s fat hens, she lay down to think out a plan to get that fat hen. No one knew better than she how foolish it would be to go over to that henyard and just trust to luck for a chance to catch one of those biddies. Of course, they _might_ be lucky and get a hen that way, but then again they might be unlucky and get in a peck of trouble. “You see,” said she to Reddy, “we must not only plan how to get that fat hen, but we must also plan how to get away with it safely. If only there was some way of getting in that henhouse at night, there would be no trouble at all. I don’t suppose there is the least chance of that.” “Not the least chance in the world,” replied Reddy. “There isn’t a hole anywhere big enough for even Shadow the Weasel to get through, and Farmer Brown’s boy is very careful to lock the door every night.” “There’s a little hole that the hens go in and out of during the day, which is big enough for one of us to slip through, I believe,” said Granny thoughtfully. “Sure! But it’s always closed at night,” snapped Reddy. “Besides, to get to that or the door either, you have got to get inside the henyard, and there’s a gate to that which we can’t open.” “People are sometimes careless,—even you, Reddy,” said Granny. Reddy squirmed uneasily, for he had been in trouble many times through carelessness. “Well, what of it?” he demanded a wee bit crossly.