In Camp on the Big Sunflower | Page 5

had been able to use the oars to advantage, and cover a
mile or two in pretty good fashion.
Then, again, they were compelled to use poles in order to push the
boats; or, else going ashore, drag them by means of long ropes, for the
rapids were swift.
It had taken them from early morning to nearly dusk to cover these

fifteen-odd miles; but now that the camp was established, the tent up,
the fire crackling, and supper being prepared, they forgot their tired
backs and muscles.
"Hey, Max!" called out Bandy-legs, turning around from where he was
attending to the bubbling coffee.
"What is it?" asked the other, who had managed to arrange a temporary
rude table, a slab of wood having been brought along for the purpose.
"You forgot to tell us about it, don't you know?" the other went on.
"Somehow, all the excitement about that silly kid in the bushes
knocked it clean out of my head."
"It did now, f-f-for a fact," spoke up Toby. "So t-t-tell us what the
p-p-p-p"--whistle--"prospects are, won't you?"
Max and his cousin exchanged a quick look, after which the former
placed a finger on his lips.
"Wait a little, Toby," he said, cautiously. "When we gather around the
festive board, and get our heads close together, I've got some bully
good news to tell the bunch of you."
"H-h-hear that, will you, boys?" remarked Toby, in more or less
excitement.
"Say no more now, please. How about that coffee?" Max continued.
"S-s-she's cooked to a turn, and I h-h-hope the rest of the g-g-grub is
ready, too."
"All right here," announced Bandy-legs, seizing the frying pan, which
was filled with potatoes, seasoned with a few onions, and hurrying over
to where the low table had been arranged.
Inside of five minutes they were busily engaged disposing of the savory
mess.
Five hungry lads can make away with considerable food, given the

chance; but all due allowance had been made for even the astonishing
appetites of Toby and Bandy-legs, when making preparations for the
feast.
Once the edge was taken off their appetites, and the boys remembered
the promise made by Max.
"Now tell us what luck you had, Max," Steve asked, as he broke open a
fresh paper package of crackers, and appropriated a generous portion of
cheese.
"Y-y-yes, that's the t-t-ticket!" exclaimed Toby.
"I did promise, didn't I?" Max started out to say; "and it's time I kept
my word. You know the idea wasn't mine at all, but came from Owen
here, who had been reading up on the subject. We wanted to discover
some way of earning a nice little sum of money this summer, in order
to carry out certain plans we've got in our minds; and among all the
schemes hatched up, his one struck us as the smartest."
"Besides, it gave us just the jolliest chance to come up here and pitch
camp," asserted Steve.
"Something we'd been talking of doing for ever so long, fellows,"
Bandy-legs put in.
"All of which is true," Max went on to say. "Well, what was this bright
little idea Owen sprung on us! Nothing more nor less than a treasure-
hunting expedition. Only, instead of trying to unearth the gold and
jewels some Captain Kidd of these Northern woods has hidden away,
we expect to find something in the way of gems that no mortal eye has
ever looked on up to now."
Apparently these words of Max gave the others quite a thrill, for they
exchanged looks, and their faces betrayed evidence of intense interest.
"Owen had taken a great deal of stock in this new industry of finding
pearls in mussels, or fresh-water clams," Max went on. "He managed to

learn that long ago our river had been pretty well stocked with these
shellfish, though the town people had eaten them up clean. But Owen
believed, and I agreed with him, that some miles up-stream the chances
were we might find a good lot of mussels, big fellows that had never
been disturbed except by some hungry 'coon or fox."
"And so we just made up our minds to start out on what seemed to be
an innocent camping trip," broke in Steve, chuckling. "That would give
us all the chance we wanted to see whether there was anything in this
pearl- fishing business along fresh-water streams."
"And we're here, all right, ready for work," remarked Bandy-legs.
"Would you mind passing me that frying pan, Owen? It's a shame to
waste such a lot of tasty grub."
"Huh! n-n-no danger," grunted Toby, enviously.
"We had to hurry for all we were worth to get up here before dark,"
Steve remarked; "for Owen said the best place would be at the junction
of the two little streams