Bobby was so amazed that he stopped.
"Go on!" groaned the owl, "or you'll never get out, or I either."
So Bobby kept up his talk until the stake-driver was lying senseless on
the floor.
"Put the key in the lock, quick," cried the owl.
"Where is the key?"
"His fine clothes. Take them off, quick! Cap first!"
Bobby began with the cap, then stripped off the coat and vest and boots.
"Put them in the keyhole, quick!" said the owl, for the stake-driver was
reviving.
"Where is the key-hole?"
"There! there!" cried the owl, pointing to the fire. By this time the
Fly-up-the-creek had already begun to reach out for his clothes, which
Bobby hastily threw into the fire. The fire went out, the great door near
by swung open, and the big-eyed owl, followed by Bobby, walked out,
saying, "I'm free at last."
Somehow, in the daylight, he was not any longer an owl, but an old man in
gray clothes, who hobbled off down the road.
And Bobby looked after him until he saw the stake-driver, shorn of his
fine clothes, sweep over his head and go flying up the creek again. Then
he turned toward his father's cabin, saying:
"Well, I never! Ef that haint the beatinest thing I ever did see in all
my born'd days.
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