But Red couldn’t put his hands on the ham when he was sent after it.
“You fellows must have ate it,” he yipped to us across the water.
“If any one ate it you did,” Scoop yipped back. “It was there last night.”
The searcher disappeared for another moment or two.
“You’re crazy,” he yipped. “There isn’t any sign of a ham here. I’ve looked everywhere.”
“He’s the limit,” Scoop grumbled to us, showing his disgust of the other. “Honest to Peter, he wouldn’t be able to find his nose if it wasn’t hinged to the front of his freckled face. I could find the ham,” he boasted, “if I was there.”
“Here’s a glass of dried beef,” Red yipped from the scow. “I’ll bring that.”
Well, we left the girl a bottle of olives and some crackers in addition to the dried-beef sandwiches that she made for herself. Then we went on board the scow in her rowboat. [[131]]
In saying good-by to us she told us that her name was Elizabeth Garber, and taking down our names on the back of her buried-treasure map she promised that her grandfather would write to us, thanking us for the help we had given her.
“And when you get home,” she concluded, pink spots showing in her cheeks at the suggestion, “you might write me a nice long letter telling me about your adventures and your wealth.”