“Why,” answered Tybert. “There is no reason why we should not feast on that ham, you and I. It will be the easiest thing in the world to steal it. The latch of the kitchen window is broken, and it cannot be locked. All you have to do is to go there to-night, creep through the window, pull down the ham, and throw it out to me.”
“Why can’t you get it yourself?” asked Courtoys suspiciously.
“Ah,” said the cat, “I am not strong enough to pull it down.”
“And what about the farmer’s dogs? I seem to remember hearing they are savage brutes!”
“Well, of course, if you’re afraid ...” answered the cat disdainfully.
“Afraid yourself!” cried Courtoys. “You leave this to me.”
So that very night, when the moon had set, the two crept into the farmyard, and the dog managed to get through the window into the kitchen unobserved. The next moment he had pulled down the ham and had thrown it out of the window to Tybert, who was waiting below. Tybert seized it in his mouth and ran off, but as soon as he reached the gate he gave a series of such blood-curdling miaows, that he roused every dog on the farm. Out they came, hair bristling, and teeth flashing, just in time to catch our friend Courtoys as he jumped down from the window.
Then occurred a ferocious fight. With his back to the wall Courtoys put up a sturdy resistance, but he was very badly mangled indeed before he managed to escape. With one ear torn off and one eye closed, bleeding from many wounds and panting with his exertions, he limped painfully up to where the cat awaited him.
“My poor friend,” cried Tybert. “Are you badly hurt? Never mind, the ham was worth it—it simply melted in the mouth. I have already eaten my share, and I willingly give you yours!” So saying, he pointed to the greasy string by which the ham had been suspended, and which was now all that remained. Courtoys gazed at it blankly.
“You see,” explained Tybert calmly, as he prepared to take his departure, “a cord is worth a good many fishbones!”