"Who is troubling you, sir?"

"Why, what nonsense that is, to ask that!" ejaculated the
gentleman. "If I knew who they were I wouldn't ask odds of
anybody. I'd go after them. As it is, I've left my servant with a
gun loaded with rock-salt watching for them now."

"Burglars?" exclaimed Tom, with real interest.

"Chicken-house burglars! That's the kind of burglars they are,"
growled Mr. Damon. "Two or three times they have tried to get my
prize buff Orpingtons. Last night they got me out of bed twice
fooling around the chicken house and yard. Other neighbors have
lost their hens already. I don't mean to lose mine. Want you to
help me, Tom."

"Is that all that is worrying you, Mr. Damon?" laughed the
young fellow.

"Bless my radiator! isn't that enough?"

"I know you set your clock by those buff Orpingtons," agreed
Tom.

"That's right. That ten-months cockerel, Blue Ribbon Junior,
never fails to crow at three-thirty-three to the minute. Bless my
combs and spurs; a wonderful bird!"

"But let's see how I can help you regarding the chicken