which was very near the dog house. They opened the door with their teeth and nails and filed in one by one. But they were hardly inside when they heard the door close with a bang.
Who was it that had closed the door? Why, it was Pinocchio, who, not contented with the latch that held the door, placed a big stone there besides. And then he began to bark, and he barked just like a watchdog—bu! bu! bu! bu!
At that sound the farmer jumped out of bed, took his gun, and, coming to the window, said, “What is the matter?”
“The robbers are here,” cried Pinocchio.
“Where are they?”
“In the chicken coop.”
“I will come down right away.”
Before any one could say “Amen” the farmer descended. After he had caught and put into a sack the four Polecats, he looked at the sack with genuine satisfaction and said: “You, then, are the ones who have been stealing my chickens! I ought to punish you, but you are too vile. I will content myself instead with carrying you to the inn near by, where they will skin you and use your fur for warm mittens. It is an honor you do not deserve, but generous men do not mind taking this little trouble.”
