one could approach within ten feet unseen.

Max smiled.

Truth to tell he was a little eager himself to set to work investigating
the insides of these shells.

The remarkable luck attending their first attempt gave him more or less
hope that other prizes might crop up to reward their continued efforts.

And the Outing Boys had outlined such a glorious programme for the long
vacation, if only they could raise the large amount of money needed to
carry out their ardent plans, that naturally Max was heart and soul
interested in the result.

Besides, Max had a half-formed resolution that if luck favored them, so
that they found another pearl, he would set a trap that very evening. He
was burning with eager curiosity to discover whether Steve might repeat his
strange action of the preceding night. And in case this happened, Max was
grimly resolved to settle the matter once and for all by clutching hold of
the other while in the act.

"Oh! you're wondering whether we're going to find anything in that lot; is
that it!" Max remarked, as he picked up an old oyster knife he had carried
along for the purpose of prying open the mussels, no easy task for
greenhorns at the business, as the boys' cut fingers already testified.

"You just bet I am," returned Steve, possessing himself of the heavy
kitchen knife. "Come along and let's see if we had our wading and toting
the find all the way to camp for nothing."