In Camp on the Big Sunflower | Page 7

Toby, ready to leap to his feet and begin a
jig.
"But without any particular commercial value," Owen said, once again
freezing the enthusiasm of the stammering, excited Toby.
"All the same, it ought to encourage us to begin work dredging the Big
Sunflower," remarked Steve, as he started in to examine the first find of
the expedition.
"It certainly will," Owen declared. "But, see here, Max, what are you
grinning about?"
"He's found something in his old oyster, bet you a cooky!" ejaculated

Bandy-legs, excitedly.
"Is that so, Max? Did you see our friend Toby, here, and go him one
better?" asked Steve.
Max was still smiling broadly.
"You've got me up against the fence, fellows," he admitted. "Caught me
with the goods on, as they say. Yes, it's a fact, I did find something in
that second tough old mussel shell I opened."
"Was it really a decent pearl, Max?" pleaded Steve.
"Look for yourselves, boys, and tell me what you think."
As he spoke, Max opened his left hand.
The action allowed a small, milk-white object, much smaller than a pea,
to escape. It rolled upon the board which composed the table; and as
the fire burned brightly, all of the boys could easily examine it.
One by one they picked the tiny white object up and held it at several
angles, to see how the glow of the fire seemed to reflect in faint
prismatic colors from its surface.
"Say, this is a pearl, all right, and a jim-dandy one, too," declared Steve,
after he had had his turn at handling the discovery, "I ought to know,
because my mother's got a string of the same--left to her by an old aunt
over in England."
"Owen, what d'ye suppose it's worth!" demanded Max, turning on his
cousin.
"Well, now, you've got me there, fellows," declared the bookworm.
"You see everything depends on how pure and perfect it happens to
be."
"That's a fact," said Steve, thoughtfully, as he feasted his eyes on the
little beauty. "D'ye know, fellows, I've always been fond of pearls. Why,

when I was only a little kid my mother says I used to notice a ring my
aunt wore, and would hang around her all the time, wanting to touch
the pretty little gem. I reckon the old admiration still holds good."
Steve even sighed as he reluctantly passed the new-found pearl along.
Max smiled to notice how his eyes seemed to follow it.
"Well, we've proved one thing, sure," remarked Bandy-legs, as he
scraped the skillet carefully for the third time, evidently believing it
was a sin to waste a single scrap of good food.
"Yes," spoke up Toby, who was watching this action with signs of
disapproval, for he believed he would be compelled to complete his
meal with crackers and cheese; "we k-k-know now there are p-pearls in
some of these b-b-blessed old m-m-m"--whistle--"mussels, there!"
"But don't let's get too big notions, fellows," Owen thought fit to put in
just then.
Owen was what his teacher at school always described as
"conservative." He lacked the impulsive sanguine disposition of Steve.
At the same time he was no "croaker," and far from being a "doubting
Thomas."
Owen often acted as a safety brake in connection with his chums. When
some of them showed signs of rushing pellmell along the road,
regardless of difficulties and unseen pitfalls, it was Owen who would
gently draw them in, and counsel caution.
They looked to him as a mentor, nor were any of them in the least
offended when he restrained their headlong rush.
"In what way, Owen?" asked Steve.
"You see, it's like this," the other went on. "From what Max and I
learned, we don't fancy there can be any great quantity of these mussels
up here. Perhaps we won't find a single one along the other little stream,
which they call the Elder River."

"How about that, Max?" asked Bandy-legs.
"It's the simple truth. I was told we might get a few of the shellfish up
along the Big Sunflower, but none in the water of the other creek,"
replied the one addressed.
"H-h-how do they account f-for that?" asked Toby, always eager to
learn.
"Must be something in the water that prevents mussels from breeding
in the Elder," Owen replied; and so great was the confidence those
fellows placed in the knowledge of their bookworm chum that not one
of them dreamed of disputing his theory.
"Go on, please," Steve remarked. "You had it on your tongue to say
something more, didn't you, Owen?"
"Only this. We might scrape in a hundred, five hundred or a thousand
shellfish, and not be able to duplicate this lovely little gem once."
"T-t-that's so," observed Toby. "They s-s-say pearl hunting's the
b-b-biggest lottery in the