“What about King Benjamin?” Clementine asked.

“I don’t think he should come. The raccoons probably couldn’t handle it.” The rat-terrier turned to the boy. “Stay here. Okay, boy? Stay!” Benjamin only heard “Ruff! Rrrrrruff! Ruff!”

What does he want?

Benjamin started to follow them into the weeds. Paco turned and shook his head. The boy stopped. “You want me to stay here?” Paco barked and ran off.

The trio entered a grassy clearing with a cluster of cottonwood trees. Raccoons hurried around them as if they had a purpose. The friends looked up into the middle tree and saw a raccoon; that is, they saw a belly, bushy striped tail and hind legs. Presumably Marlon’s. The fat raccoon lay on his back on a branch. An ample belly covered his face as his legs and tail dangled over the side. An arm and hand, holding a half-eaten rotten apple, hung down. He looked asleep. They walked up to the tree. The other raccoons ignored them.

“Who’s going to talk to him?” Roscoe asked.

“Paco, I guess,” Clementine said.

The rat-terrier sighed and took a step forward. “Ahem! Good morning!” The raccoon snored in answer. “I say, good morning!” Paco said more loudly.

The fat belly moved slightly and his chubby head appeared. His eyes squinted in the early morning light that filtered through the trees. He stretched and grunted. “Huh…. What? Who’s down there? Is that you, Agnes?” His voice was lazy and soft. “You’re beautiful. I love ya, darling. Fantastic…. Now how’s about getting me something to eat?”

“I’m actually a dog, and with me is a pig and a goat.”

Marlon rolled his fat belly over and looked down at them, “Sorry, boys. We don’t celebrate Halloween around here.”

Roscoe burst out laughing and Paco looked stern. “Don’t encourage him…. We’re not here for Halloween. We need your help with an item that’s been stolen from us.”

“Stolen? I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong party. We do tree-limb removal.”

“What?”

“Yeah, we uhh…we…” The fat raccoon’s eyes wandered through the branches. “You’re not here for Fat Tony, are ya?”

“Who?”

“You’re kidding me, right? Fat Tony, the bullfrog? I did a job for him involving some mussels from the creek. He didn’t send you here?” The raccoons on the ground covered a pile of mussel shells with dead branches.

“No, Fat Tony didn’t send us. Some crows stole a shiny collar from us.”

“The Diego Boys?” The dog’s head tipped to the side. “Crows, right? Yeah…. They’re Don Diego’s boys. They claim this as their territory.”

Benjamin had decided to sit. He was bored. He pulled at the grass. Maybe there’s something I can do to help. He stood and walked in the direction they’d gone.

Paco stretched his neck. “Do you know where these crows are?”