"Think of snapping a porker's hind leg off a pole," groaned Bobolink, "and playing it, inch by inch, up here; while our gay guards walked back and forth on post, as innocent as the babes in the woods. It gets me, all right!"
None of the Banner Boy Scouts looked very happy. Like many other things, a ham is never so much appreciated as when it has disappeared.
"Say, you don't think, now, it could have been one of that Slavin bunch, do you?" demanded Bobolink, presently; "because I happen to know Scissors Dempsey is mighty fond of pork, every way you can fix it."
"I've thought of that," said Paul, without hesitation; "but you can see the foot is an extra long one. No boy's shoe ever made that. And it's had a home-made patch on it, too. No, some man has been here, and made way with our ham."
"Oh! won't it be bad for him if ever we meet the wretch!" threatened Bobolink. "Just you see what the fellows say, when they know. Only enough ham for one more meal! That's what I call tough."
There was a howl indeed, when the other campers learned what had happened. All sorts of
theories were advanced, and Paul laughed at some of these.
"That old humpback rattlesnake oil man must have come to life again, just like Rip Van Winkle," declared Nuthin, who seemed to have heard the story somewhere; "and could you blame him for wanting ham, after sniffing the delicious smells that went up from this camp last night, while William was busy?"
William thereupon made his lowest bow, with his hand on his heart.
"Oh! thank you!" he exclaimed, simpering; "this is too, too sudden; and I've really left the speech I prepared, at home."