Stuart shivered in the early morning chill.   No one was awake in the house.   It must still be too early for even Mr. Johnson to be milking the cows.   It was quiet and this morning seemed to be colder than the other mornings that Stuart could remember.   And, it was starting to sprinkle on him!

The crow flew back to Stuart's shoulder.

"Well, I talked to the other guys," he said.   "They told me that there are no more seeds left in the garden.   Most of the vegetables are grown and there are no more seeds to eat.   That's why they haven't come down into the garden for a long time now."

"You mean they aren't scared of me?   They just haven't come down here because there was nothing to eat?   I thought it was because i was doing my job and scaring them away."

The crow looked at Stuart.   He looked up at the other crows on the utility wire.   He looked at Stuart again.   He knew that Stuart would feel sad if he thought that he wasn't doing his job correctly.

"Oh, no, that not it at all," said the crow.   "They are scared to death of you!   Even if there WERE seeds to eat, they wouldn't come down here.   Now, with most of the seeds gone, it doesn't seem worth being scared by you to fly down here and try to get what's left."

"Oh," said Stuart.   "If there WERE seeds left, they might try, but because there aren't many left, they are too scared to try.   Is that right?"

"Er-rr, yeah, Stuart, that's right."

Stuart thought for a moment.   He had been doing his job right.   The crows were so scared of him that they wouldn't even try to get seeds anymore.   Maybe if the crows were so scared of him, even if he left, they might be too scared to fly into the garden.   Afraid that he might come back at any moment and scare them off again.

"Hey crow," said Stuart, "do you have a name?"

"Charlie."

"Charlie?" asked Stuart.

"Well, my real name is Charles, but my friends call me Charlie."

"Well, Charlie," said Stuart, "it is starting to rain and I want to get out of here.   Where can we go?"

"Just follow me," said Charlie as he flew off toward the barn.

"Hey, Charlie, wait for me," yelled Stuart.

Stuart wiggled and wiggled.   He flapped his legs and wiggled his head, but he couldn't move.   He couldn't fly like Charlie and he realized that he couldn't run like Billy.   He was fastened to a stick that was stuck in the ground.   No matter how much he wiggled or flapped, he just couldn't move off that stick.