“Sure I have,” replied the other, “and if you wait a minute I’ll get the same, so we can enjoy the thrilling story right here and now. Those kind of yarns always sound better around the blazing camp fire, you know.”
“Kinder go with ghosts, and all that sort of thing, eh?” came from Buster, who was eyeing the remnant of ham in the fryingpan, and heaving a sigh, as though it really gave him a pain to think that his capacity seemed to have been reached before the last bit had been disposed of; that was next door to a sin with Buster, who would gorge himself rather than see the least thing wasted, or thrown away.
“Ghosts don’t burgle any that I ever heard of,” observed Josh, calmly picking up the said skillet, and with a fling sending a small portion of the fatty end of ham flying into the bushes, at which Buster sank back, disappointed.
“Arrah, sure they do the quarest things ye iver heard till on,” declared Andy; and then gave a quick look at Jack, as though half expecting to be taken to task because of his clinging belief in hobgoblins, and all such things.
But Jack did not see fit to pay the slightest attention to anything so trifling just then. He passed into the tent, to where he had hung his coat; for with his sweater on he had not felt the need of extra covering. And presently he came out again, carrying the paper in his hand.
“Now, isn’t that too mean for anything, boys?” he remarked.
“What’s gone wrong now, Jack; I hope more of our provisions haven’t taken wings, and skipped out?” observed George; while Buster just sat there, hugging his fat knees and holding his breath while he waited to hear the worst.
“Oh! no; nothing like that,” came the answer, “but you see I had this coat on a good part of the morning, and I guess the paper must have got wet somehow, for there’s only part of the first page left; most of the account of the robbery is gone. But I’ll read you what there is, if you want. It’s the tail end, of course. Too bad it had to happen that way.”
“Go on, then, and let’s have what there is, Jack,” urged Josh.
“About where the lines begin to run even it starts in this way,” remarked Jack. “‘The only clues they have of the robbery consist, first of all, in several tools which Mr. Hasty, the blacksmith, identified as part of his machinist’s outfit, showing that they had entered his shop; and the fact that yesterday a dapper little naphtha launch, painted white, with a red band around the upper part, was known to be anchored just above town. Two parties occupied the same, one a well-dressed young fellow, with a sharp look about him; and the other a heavy man, more like a mechanic. The police have no doubt that these parties are the ones who broke into the bank, and cleaned out the vault. The smart looking young fellow must have planned the scheme. He was seen in the bank during the day, getting some information, and a big bill changed, and it is supposed that he took his bearings at that time he was chatting with the cashier. From the description the latter was able to give of his visitor it has been learned from St. Paul that the smooth faced young fellow was positively a well known and skilful crook called by the name of Slim Jim. The authorities hope to be able to get on to their track up or down the river shortly.’”