It proved to be just as Solomon Owl had told his cousin, Simon Screecher.
Solomon had so much on his mind that he had no sooner fallen asleep than
he awoke again, to study over the question that perplexed him. He
certainly did not want Simon to have twice as many mice as he. But Simon’s
argument was a good one. He had said that since Solomon was more than
twice his size, it was proper that he should have a chance to grow. And
everybody knew—Solomon reflected—everybody knew that _eating_ made one
larger.

The longer Solomon pondered, the farther he seemed from any answer that he
liked. And he had begun to fear that he would not succeed in getting more
than thirty-nine winks all day—instead of forty—when all at once an idea
came into his mind.

Solomon knew right away that he had nothing more to worry about. He
dropped into a sound sleep with a pleasant smile upon his usually solemn
face. And when he opened his eyes again it was time for Simon Screecher to
arrive.

Yes! Solomon could hear his cousin’s whistle even then. So he hurried to
his door; and there was Simon, sitting on a limb of the big hemlock
waiting for him!

“It’s all right!” said Solomon to his cousin. “I agree to your suggestion.
We’ll hunt together again to-night; and if you will give me one-third of
all the mice you catch, I promise to give you two-thirds of all the mice
that I capture.”

“Good!” said Simon Screecher. And he looked vastly relieved. “Just hoot
when you have any mice for me!”