"Too many ifs to get a dinner with," interrupted Reddy.

"Perhaps," replied Granny mildly, "but I've noticed that it is the one
who has an eye open for all the little ifs in life that fares the best.
Now I've kept an eye on that henyard, and I've noticed that very
often Farmer Brown's boy doesn't close the henyard gate at night.
I suppose he thinks that if the henhouse door is locked, the gate
doesn't matter. Any one who is careless about one thing, is likely
to be careless about another. Sometime he may forget to close that
hole. I told you that we would try for one of those hens to-morrow
morning, but the more I think about it, the more I think it will be
wiser to visit that henhouse a few nights before we run the risk of
trying to catch a hen in broad daylight. In fact, I am pretty sure
I can make Farmer Brown's boy forget to close that gate."

"How?" demanded Reddy eagerly.

Granny grinned. "I'll try it first and tell you afterwards," said
she. "I believe Farmer Brown's boy closes the henhouse up just
before jolly, round, red Mr. Sun goes to bed behind the Purple
Hills, doesn't he?"

Reddy nodded. Many times from a safe hiding-place he had hungrily
watched Farmer Brown's boy shut the biddies up. It was always just
before the Black Shadows began to creep out from their hiding-places.

"I thought so," said Granny. The truth is, she KNEW so. There was
nothing about that henhouse and what went on there that Granny didn't
know quite as well as Reddy. "You stay right here this afternoon until