“I chased them hawgs a couple o’ miles ter ther river bank, whar they hid in ther canebrake.  I couldn’t get ther cayuse ter go in after them, so I gits down an’ breaks my way in tryin’ ter git a shot at one o’ them, my mouth waterin’ fer fresh pork so’s I wuz almost wadin’ in it.

“Purty soon I come in sight o’ them.  A ole boar wuz in charge o’ them, an’ he wuz a hard-lookin’ citizen, I want ter tell yer.  He hed tushes five inches long an’ both o’ ’em ez sharp ez razors.  I took a shot at him, but his hide wuz so tough thet ther ball just glanced off him, an’ he made a break fer me.  I turned an’ fled.  Ther river wuz not fur erway, an’ I knowed thet if I beat them hawgs ter it I wuz safe.

“I jest did it, an’ waded out ez fur ez I could an’ started ter swim.  ‘When I gits ter ther other side I’ll take some long shots at yer,’ thinks I, ‘an’ we’ll hev hawg meat yit.’

“I gits out inter ther middle o’ ther stream when I hears a puffin’ an’ a gruntin’ behind me.  I looks over my shoulder an’ here comes ther whole herd swimmin’ right after me as—­”

“That settles it,” said Ben, as he rose with a snort of disgust.

“What’s ther matter with yer?” asked Bud calmly.

“Yer story is what I thought it would be—­wild and woolly and full of cockleburs.”

“How is thet ag’in?”

“It’s rotten.  Don’t you know, as long as you have been on earth, that swine cannot swim without committing suicide?”

“Go ahead.  Will you kindly tell us fer why, perfessor?”

“Certainly.  The hoofs of pigs are so sharp, and their forelegs are set so far under their bodies, that when they attempt to swim their hoofs strike their fat throats, cutting them, and they die from loss of blood.”

“Thet’s c’rect, my son.  Every schoolboy knows thet thar p’int in nat’ral history.”

“Then why are you insulting our intelligence by stating that a herd of hogs followed you into the water and swam after you?  Now don’t spring any such flower of your fancy on us as to say that the hogs all killed themselves crossing and that you and Peep-o’-day had all the fresh meat you wanted during the rest of your stay on the Pecos, for we won’t stand for it.  I don’t believe there is any such thing as a Pecos, anyway.”

Bud looked so crestfallen that the other boys felt sorry for him.

“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” said Kit, taking Bud’s finish out of his own mouth.  “You big chump, it wasn’t your story, anyhow.”

“Don’t worry, Kit,” said Bud, smiling confidently.  “Ben’s so intellectooal thet it hurts him ter pack his knowledge eround in thet pinhead o’ hisn.  But he didn’t finish ther story none.  I knows ez well ez him thet hawgs can’t swim fer ther reasons he give.  But these yere hawgs I am tellin’ erbout wuz different.”

“How was that?”

“Yer see, thet thar ole boar wuz ez smart ez a copperation lawyer.  He’d fixed them hawgs ter swim.  First they got thar hoofs all balled up with gumbo, er sticky clay, then they worked ther dry grass inter ther clay and mixed ’em good an’ stiff, lettin’ ’em dry in ther sun.  This made a hard ball on their toes thet jest slipped off their throats when they struck.”