The Fairview boys were, as George expressed it, "knocked all in a heap."
"Well, here's a pretty kettle of fish!" exclaimed Frank.
"Nothing like that," corrected Bob. "There aren't any fish at all."
"Somebody's played us a sneaking trick!" exploded Sammy, angrily.
"I don't knew that you can call it exactly that," remarked George. "Anybody riding by might think that we had left them here because we already had caught more than we could carry. In that case you couldn't blame them for taking what was left. But it sure puts us in a bad hole. We promised Mrs. Claxton a mess for supper and now we'll have to go back with empty hands because it's too late to catch any more."
"It may not have been a man at all who took them," suggested Frank. "Lots of small animals are fond of fish, and one of them or several of them may have come along. Or a fish hawk may have spied them."
"I guess we haven't any one to blame but ourselves," observed Bob. "We ought to have taken them with us when we got into the boat."
"Well, it's of no use to cry over spilled milk," remarked Sammy. "Let's get a move on now and get home. I'm hungry enough to eat nails."
This seemed the only thing to do, and the boys had started in the homeward direction when George reined up his horse.
"Do you think we'd better go back to that cottonwood tree and see if they lynched that fellow after all?" he asked.