ersisted the Deacon, "because
there's nothin' to cook in."

"We'll have something, all the same," said Shorty, with a wink of
enjoyable anticipation at Si.

The two boys carefully stowed away their overcoats, which were rolled up
in bundles in a way that would be suspicious to a soldier. They got the
interior of the cabin in more presentable shape, and then Shorty went
out and produced a camp-kettle from somewhere, in which they made their
coffee.{212}

When this was ready, they shut the door and care fully unrolled their
overcoats. A small sugar-cured ham, a box of sardines, a can of peaches,
and a couple of loaves of fresh, soft bread developed.

"Yum-yum!" murmured Shorty, gloating over the viands.

"Where in the world did you git them, boys?" asked the Deacon in
wonderment.{213}

"Eat what is set before you, and ask no questions, for conscience's
sake, Pap," said Si, slicing off a piece of the ham and starting to broil
it for his father. "That's what you used to tell me."

"Si," said the father sternly, as an awful suspicion moved in his mind,
"I hope you didn't steal 'em."

"Of course, not, Pap. How kin you think so?"

"Josiah Klegg," thundered the father, "tell me how you came by them
things."

"Well, Pap," said Si, considerably abashed, "it was something like
this: Our squad was set to work to unload a car o' Christian Commission
things. Me and Shorty pulled off our overcoats and laid them in a
corner. When we got through our work and picked up our coats we found
these things in them. Some bad men had hid them there, thinkin' they wuz
their overcoats. We thought the best way wuz to punish the thieves by
takin' the things away with us. Now, here's a piece o' ham briled almost
as nice as mother could do. Take it, and cut you off a slice of that
soft bread."

"Si, the receiver's as bad as the thief. I won't touch it."

"Pap, the harm's been done. No matter who done it, the owner'll never
see his victuals agin. Jest as like he cribbed 'em from somebody else.
These Christian Commission things wuz sent down for us soljers, anyhow.
We'd better have 'em than the bummers around the rear. They'll spile and
be wasted if you don't eat 'em, and that'd be a sin."

[Illustration: TRYING TO CONQUER THE DEACON'S SCRUPLES. 212]

The savory ham was very appetizing, the Deacon was very hungry, and the
argument was sophistical.

"I'll take it, Si," said he with a sigh. "I don't{214} wonder that the
people down her