Steve seemed to give a satisfied grunt presently. Then he turned away,
stepped gingerly over the forms of Bandy-legs and Toby, bent down for a few
seconds, as if fumbling with his clothes, and still muttering to himself,
finally crawled under his own blanket.

Max was chuckling as he dropped back on his rude pillow made of leaves that
had been crammed into a flour sack.

"Guess Steve is deeper in this pearl business than the rest of us," he
muttered, "since he has to climb out of a warm blanket just to make sure
nobody's got away with our first prize. Well, he's welcome to stand guard.
Me to get some more sleep."

So little impression did the circumstance make upon Max's mind that in less
than five minutes he had drifted away once more to the borders of
slumberland.

In the morning it was Owen who awakened the balance of the campers.

"Here, suppose you fellows show a leg, and take a dip in the creek," he
announced, poking his head into the tent.

"I smell bacon!" cried Bandy-legs, as he sat up hurriedly.

"And that must sure be the odor of c-c-coffee that comes s-s-stealing in
here!" declared Toby, bounding erect.

Soon the four were floundering about in the cool waters of the Big
Sunflower.