"I guess he'll find some, at last," laughed Frank, after calling Jerry's
attention to the fact that the other had gone.

"Bluff is daft on the subject of oysters, all right. He never seems to
tire of eating them in season, and yet he says he never picked one up
on the spot where it grew. He seems to be coming back, Frank!" exclaimed
Jerry, who was working with some fishing tackle that he had found aboard,
and which Cousin Archie had used before in Southern waters.

"Hey! They're right here, and in tremendous quantities! Where's that
oyster knife, Frank? Give it to me, please. I want to try a few right on
the bed where they grew. Give me a tin kettle, too, and I'll open a mess
for supper!" cried the boy ashore, as he reached the boat.

"Take care you don't cut your fingers. If these oysters are small, and
stand up on edge, in clusters, they're called coon oysters, and have a
sharp shell that is like a razor," said Frank as he handed the articles
over.

"Why coon oysters?" demanded Bluff, who always wanted to know.

"Perhaps because they lie on shore, exposed at low water, and the 'coons
manage to get a mess occasionally," put in the wise Jerry.

So Bluff hurried away around the bend, to amuse himself to his heart's
content opening native oysters right where they grew, something he had
looked forward to doing with almost childish delight.

Jerry, having arranged his tackle, got ready to do a little fishing, for
it was still half an hour to sunset. He had discovered that there were