It was evident that Harmon had no desire to venture forth again into the skunk-infested night, but he finally went, flashing Tim’s pocket torch on all sides and talking loudly to keep his courage up. Ten minutes later quiet again reigned in the tent. Pud, seeking a more comfortable position on the unyielding canvas cot, smiled at a thought. ‘That boy,’ he reflected, ‘might be an awful brave pirate, but he wouldn’t make much of an animal trainer!’ CHAPTER V THE CHICKEN THAT INTRUDED They had made the mistake of pitching the tent where the morning sun had full play, and long before either Pud or Tim wanted to get up, the canvas walls were aglow, and it was only by hiding their faces under the blankets that they could keep the disturbing light from their eyes. Shortly before seven they capitulated. Harmon was already up and about. They could hear him cracking branches and crooning a song behind the tent. Outside, the grass was dew-spangled, and, in spite of the ardent sun, the air held a shivery quality that caused Tim to hesitate before accepting Pud’s challenge to go for a swim. But he did accept, and they found the river far warmer than the air. By the time they were dried and dressed, Harmon was calling them to breakfast. For some moments a particularly delectable aroma had been pervading the tent, an aroma that suggested neither coffee nor bacon, and when they reached the fire the mystery was explained. In the fry-pan lay, crisply browned, what their astounded eyes could not mistake. ‘Chicken!’ they exclaimed in delighted chorus. Harmon showed his teeth in the broadest of grins. ‘But,’ faltered Pud, after a moment of delicious contemplation, ‘where――where’d it come from?’ Harmon chuckled. ‘Who? This here chick’n? Ain’ no tellin’ where he come from, Mister Pud. He done walk right up and wink his eye at me, an’ then he lay hisself right down in this here pan an’ fol’ his wings!’ ‘Yes, he did!’ jeered Tim. ‘I suppose he plucked his own feathers off, too!’ ‘Harmon,’ said Pud sternly, ‘you stole it!’ ‘No, sir, I never,’ denied Harmon solemnly. ‘I jus’ pirated him!’ ‘Pirated him? Gee, that’s a new name for it! Where’d you――where’d you “pirate” him?’ ‘Up yonder, beside the road. He certainly was the runnin’est li’l rooster I ever seed! Yes, sir, I reckon his mother must ’a’ been a ostridge! I chase ’at li’l rascal――’ ‘You had no business to do it,’ charged Pud severely. ‘Want to get us all arrested? My goodness, that’s no way to do, Harmon!’ ‘How-come? Ain’ we pirates, Mister Pud? Didn’ you say we-all was goin’ sack towns? Didn’t you? How-come it’s all right to sack a town an’ ain’ all right to sack a li’l’ skinny rooster?’ Pud looked to Tim for assistance, but Tim was trying to keep his face straight, and he avoided Pud’s eyes carefully. Harmon stared in solemn perplexity from one to the other.