DANGER AHEAD ON THE TRAIL.
"Look at Steve!"
It was Owen who muttered these three words in the ear of his cousin.
"Yes, I've been keeping an eye on him," replied the other, uneasily.
It was to be expected that those who had gone off on the morning hunt for
shellfish would show more or less eagerness to get at their catch, in order
to learn just what sort of luck had attended their labors.
But long before either Toby or Owen had finished eating, Steve hurried over
to the pile, and squatting down, tailor fashion, began opening mussels.
Just as the rest began to leave the vicinity of the fire they heard him
give a shout.
"Say, looky there at Steve--he's dancing around like a wild Injun!" cried
Bandy-legs.
"B-b-bet you he's f-f-found a jim-dandy p-p-pearl," spluttered Toby.
All of them hastened over to where their comrade was carrying on so
extravagantly.
"What you got, Steve?" demanded Bandy-legs.
"The best one yet, sure as you're born," and with these thrilling words
Steve opened his palm.
It was certainly a larger pearl than any they had yet found, and presented
a more imposing appearance.
All of them crowded around to admire, and many were the pleased expressions
which the young pearl hunters gave vent to.
"Couldn't hardly believe my eyes when I saw that beauty lying in the
shell," remarked the excited Steve; "and the funniest part of it all is I
picked up that shell myself."
"How d'ye know that?" asked Owen. "There were two others along, perhaps
you remember."
"Sure," laughed Steve, as pleased as a child, his eyes beaming, and his
face flushed. "I'll tell you how it is, fellows. Notice this queer mark
like a five-pointed star on the shell? I remember stopping to look at it
after washing the mud off the outside. Gee! little did I suspect what I was
holding in my hand."
"G-g-guess not," wabbled Toby. "If you d-d-did I just reckon you'd
g-g-gone ashore and b-b-b-b--"
Of course, when Toby floundered in the depths one of his chums as usual
pounded him on the back vigorously; but that would not have wrought a cure
only that the unfortunate stutterer managed to give his whistle, and then
cry triumphantly:
"Busted it open--there!"
"You just bet I would," admitted Steve.
"Say, we forgot to notice something," declared Bandy-legs.
"As what?" asked Owen.
"Whether the shells of those other oysters that held prizes were also
marked with a star," Bandy-legs went on; at which the balance of the crowd
laughed uproariously.
"What d'ye think of that?" cried Steve. "He expects that when a mussel
starts in to grow a nice healthy pearl he scratches a star on his shell to
let the hard-working hunter know when he's struck a bonanza!"
"Oh! my, how k-k-kind," chuckled Toby.
"Anyhow," asserted Bandy-legs, stoutly, as he held the shell in question in
his hand, "me to keep tabs when I'm doing the grabbing act this afternoon.
And I give you all fair warning that if I do run across a shell with the
star, I'm going ashore to open the same."
"Good luck to you, then," laughed Steve. "Here, Max, take charge of this,
won't you, and put it with the rest of our prizes? I want to keep on
opening shells, and see if my luck holds out."
Max and Owen exchanged a quick look.
Apparently Steve was perfectly sincere when he gave utterance to this
natural remark. Their bewilderment grew more and more, and both boys, as
well as Bandy-legs found it impossible to understand what it could mean.
Max walked back to the tent as if meaning to deposit the pearl in the
haversack along with the others. Of course he would really slip it into his
little leather coin purse where the three valuable pearls already reposed
in safety.
"What d'ye make of him, Max?"
Owen asked this question as he bent over his chum, while the other was
making a great pretense of handling the haversack.
"Ask me something easy, please," the other replied, shaking his head from
side to side.
"What bothers me is to understand why he called out, and let us all know
he'd struck a find," Owen continued.
"Same here," Max added.
"You'd think that if Steve was the thief he seemed to be, his first act
would have been to quietly pocket this big pearl, and just keep mum. Ain't
it so, Max?"
"Seems that way," came the ready answer. "To do that would save a heap of
trouble in taking it out of the bag while the rest of us slept."
"But perhaps Steve really enjoys that exciting part of the business,"
suggested Owen.
"Do you know, a thought struck me, though I can't take much stock in it,"
Max went on.
"Let's hear it, anyhow," remarked his chum.
"Well, in order to make sure of the valuable pearls here, I'm putting them
away in my private purse. Well, what if some notion like that has struck
our comrade, and he's hiding 'em unbeknown to us, either for a trick, or
to make doubly sure they don't get lost."
Owen sneered plainly, as if to express his disbelief in this far-fetched
theory.
"It's just like you to try and screen a chum, old fellow," he observed;
"but the idea seems too thin for me to take any stock in it. To tell the
truth, I'd call it fishy. It won't wash, and you know it."
Max sighed as he closed the bag that really held only the three next to
worthless pearls.
"Own up," persisted Owen; "say that you just can't believe such a thing
yourself, much as you'd like to."
"Yes, it is so; there must be some other explanation that we haven't
struck yet. But I believe I'm on the right trail. Don't ask me any more,
Owen. To-night will see the answer, I reckon."
"Hope so," grunted the other, and from his manner it was plain to be seen
that Owen did not share the sanguine spirit of his chum.
"Now let's go back and see if there's anything doing with the rest of the
fresh-water clams," suggested Max.
But, although every shell was opened and carefully examined, only a couple
of seed pearls were found, not worth mentioning alongside the four fine
ones.
"Anyhow," said Toby, as the last mussel was passed, "it wasn't a s-s-skunk.
We g-g-got one b-b-bully old p-p-prize, didn't we, Steve?"
"Me to look for the star brand of mussels!" declared Bandy-legs; "they're
the only kind worth toting to camp over that long trail."
It was Max and Bandy-legs who started out shortly after, bent upon new
conquests.
"Look out for him, Max," said Owen; "don't let him throw away all he finds,
just because they don't happen to bear the star brand."
"Oh! I'm not that big a silly," chuckled Bandy-legs, starting off; "come
on, Max."
Max saw a chance to remark in a low voice to his cousin:
"He knows all about it, and has promised to keep a close tongue."
"Then you told him when you were alone here this morning?" remarked Owen,
and his tone announced that he doubted the propriety of confiding in
Bandy-legs.
"That's where you're away off," chuckled Max. "Fact is, he began to tell
_me_ about Steve going to the bag in the middle of the night, and
hiding something in the old coffee pot."
"You don't say?" exclaimed Owen. "How the dickens would Bandy-legs know
about that?"
"Happened to be awake and saw it all. So I thought I'd tell him what we
knew, so as to make him keep a close mouth. I guess he won't leak, Owen."
"Then Toby is really the only one out of the secret?" Owen went on to say.
"Yes. And there's no use telling him--yet. Time enough to-night when we
spring the trap. But I'm off now, after Bandy-legs. So long, Owen."
"Be mighty careful about that coin purse," warned the one who was to stay
in camp during the afternoon. "It would give me a big pain if you let it
drop out of your pocket while you were wading in the river."
"Can't. I've fastened the pocket up snug with a big safety pin," chuckled
Max.
He soon caught up with Bandy-legs, who was following the now plainly marked
trail that stretched through the forest between the river and the camp.
Arriving at the water's edge Max soon decided that it might pay them to
work a little lower downstream.
So both removed most of their clothes and started to tread for the mussels
that lay concealed in the mud or sand of the river's bed.
Max was very careful to make sure that the little coin purse was safely
pinned inside his shirt. He would not have risked leaving that ashore for
a good deal.
An hour passed.
"I see you've picked up quite a little load," remarked Max, as the two
pearl hunters happened to come close together while continuing their work.
"All of two dozen, I reckon," grunted Bandy-legs.
"Many marked with the star brand?" asked Max.
"Shucks! never a single one, the more the pity," replied the other,
grinning. "Still, I live in hopes. Found one that's got a cross on the
shell. Might be that's another mark to tell how the old hermit inside has
taken to hatching out a pearl."
"Well, let's make one more try of, say half an hour," proposed Max.
"All right," agreed the other. "It's getting a little tiresome, I tell you.
And I cut my toe on a sharp shell. Sing out when the time's up, Max. Here
goes to try along that point. Looks promising there."
"Yes, because some sort of a bar sets out from the shore. I'll head that
way, too, only covering different ground."
Max kept up the good work until the time limit had been reached. By then
the two boys had about all the load they cared to carry over the trail to
the camp.
"Hope nobody holds us up on the way, and makes us hand over all we've got,"
suggested Bandy-legs. "Not that he'd get much out of me, because
thirty-seven cents is about the limit of my fortune now; but I'm thinking
of them pearls you carry, Max."
"I've still left the coin purse pinned on the inside of my shirt," remarked
Max; "so the chances are he wouldn't be apt to find it on me."
They finished dressing, and, throwing the partly filled gunny sacks over
their shoulders, started back along the trail for camp, Max in the lead.
"Huh!" remarked Bandy-legs, as he trotted along at the heels of his
companion, "the fun about all this thing is the uncertainty of it. Ain't
that so, Max?"
"It sure is," replied the other, without turning his head. "Here we are,
toting over five dozen mussels on our backs up and down, in and out, and
we're just in a state of blissful eagerness and suspense. Perhaps we carry
a prize worth a whole vacation of sport; and then, again, chances are we
draw a blooming blank."
"All right," remarked the cheerful Max, "no matter how things turn out
from now on, I don't see that any of us ought to kick. We've got four
pearls that are bound to give us many times as much as we really hoped to
earn. And that's enough to make us happy."
"It sure is, because now we'll be able to carry out all of those bully
plans we made. Wow! I c'n hardly believe it ain't all a dream, Max," and
Bandy-legs drew a long sigh, as if trying to assure himself that he was
really awake.
"You'll begin to believe it when we send off for our motorcycles, and map
out the summer campaign," laughed Max.
"Glory be! that makes me thrill all over. If it does come to pass, won't we
be the luckiest crowd that ever came down the pike?" assented Bandy-legs.
"Oh! I'd hardly say that," remarked the other. "We've worked for all we've
got so far. The idea was, after all, the main thing, and we owe most of
that to my cousin Owen reading so much about how these pearls are found in
Indiana and Missouri streams."
"Oh! take care, Max!" suddenly cried Bandy-legs.
"What is it?" demanded the other, instantly.
"Danger ahead; because I saw somebody poking a head out of the bushes
there," Bandy-legs went on, breathlessly.