“Did you hear anything last night?” asks Mark, sharp-like.
“Yes,” I says. “Did you?”
“I ain’t sure, but I th-thought so.”
“I felt somethin’ watchin’ me,” I told him. “Seemed like its eyes was just borin’ into me when my back was turned.”
“Um!” he grunts. “See anythin’?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“There’s somebody prowlin’ around, that’s sure. That ham didn’t git tired of stayin’ an’ run off alone.”
Mark grinned. Then he looked solemn again and nodded.
“Don’t seem very dangerous, though—stealin’ ham. Maybe somebody’s playin’ a joke on us.”