"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."