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"He's that, all right," agreed Abner.

"And besides, those martens really can't do anything to him when they catch him. They're too little."

They sat and watched the chase until the martens were reduced to black specks, and then became invisible. The crow hurried on and on, its distressed caws growing fainter and fainter until at last it, too, became a mere dot and then melted into the wind-swept sky.