"Act friendly, and pay attention to your own business, that's all. Nobody
will hurt you," Max called out, as he turned into the camp.



CHAPTER VIII.

A GREAT FIND.

"When do we begin, Max?"

Steve asked this question a short time after the three left in the camp had
cleaned up the tin pans used in preparing and eating the warm meal, and
Owen had gone off to try and secure a mess of bass for supper.

Steve had been usually fast in his share of the work, even for him. Max had
noticed this fact, and could give a good guess as to what was spurring the
other on to such exertions.

"Begin what?" he asked, as if in dense ignorance.

"Why, in opening our catch, you know," Steve replied, jerking his thumb to
where the little pile of mussels lay, close by the camp fire.

Steve had himself emptied the two bags, upon their arrival in camp.
Evidently he did not mean to take any chances of having the precious
bivalves stolen by the prowling half-grown wild boy. And in order to
provide against such a catastrophe he had been very careful to deposit
their morning's "catch" in an open spot so destitute of shrubbery that no