“But it isn’t a dream, sir!  It’s real!” exclaimed Harry joyfully.  “We found an abandoned orchard, and it was just filled with ’em.  Help yourselves!”

The colonels put away their chessmen, remembering well where every one had stood, and fell on with the appetites of boys.  Other officers, and then soldiers who were made welcome, joined them.  Harry and Dalton, after having eaten their share, were walking along the slope of the mountain, when they heard the sound of a shot.  It seemed to come from a dense thicket, and, as no Northern skirmishers could be near, their curiosity caused them to rush forward.  When they entered the thicket they heard Langdon’s voice raised in a shout of triumph.

“I got him!  I got him!” he cried.  Then they heard a heavy sliding sound, as of something being dragged, and the young South Carolinian appeared, pulling after him by its hind legs a fine hog which he had shot through the head.

“It was fair game,” he cried, as he saw his friends.  “Piggy here was masterless, roaming around the woods feeding on nuts until he was fat and juicy!  My, how good he will taste!  At first I thought he was a bear, but bear or hog he was bound to fall to my pistol!”

Langdon had indeed found a prize, and he had robbed no farmer to obtain it.  Harry and Dalton stood by for a half minute and gloated with him.  Then they helped him drag the hog into the cove, where the colonels sat.  A half dozen experts quickly dressed the animal, and the Invincibles had a feast such as they had not tasted in a long time.

“Didn’t I tell you,” said Happy as he gazed contentedly into the coals over which the hog had been roasted in sections, “that those who look hard generally discover, that is, ‘seek and ye shall find.’  It’s the optimists who arrive.  Your pessimist quits before he comes to the apple trees, or before he reaches the thicket that conceals the fine fat pig.  As for me, I’m always an optimist, twenty-four carats fine, and therefore I’m the superior of you fellows.”

“You’re happier than we are because you don’t feel any sense of responsibility,” said Dalton.  “I’d rather be unhappy than have an empty head.”

“Oh, it’s just jealous you are, George Dalton.  Born with a sour disposition you can’t bear to see me shedding joy and light about me.”

Dalton laughed.

“It’s true, Happy,” he said.  “You do help, and for that reason we tolerate you, not because of your prowess in battle.”

“Has anybody seen that fellow Slade again?” asked St. Clair.

“I’m thankful to say no,” replied Harry.  “He came out of the Southwest promising big things, and he certainly does have great skill in the forest, but our officers don’t like his looks.  Nor did I. If there was ever a thorough villain I’m sure he’s one.  I’ve heard that he’s drawn off and is operating with a band of guerrillas in the mountains, robbing and murdering, I suppose.”