"Forget that, please," remarked his chum, with a grimace. "And just to
think, I came near throwing that consumptive looking one away as worthless.
It's taught me a lesson, sure, Max."

"Yes, and one you'll never forget, eh, Steve?"

"I never will," declared the other, vehemently. "Whenever I think of this
lucky strike I'm going to understand that you never can judge things,
people also, by outside looks."

"Sometimes the finest gems come in the meanest of coverings, you mean, eh,
Steve?"

"Right-o. And now what'll we do?" asked the other.

"Carry the shells away, because in a few days we'd object to the rank odor
so near our tent. Listen, Steve. Make a heap of the things, under some
tree you can remember well. We can call that our shell pile, you know."

"See here, you've got a meaning back of all that, you know it,"
complained Steve.

Max laughed aloud.

"How smart we're getting, old chap," he remarked. "But between us I don't
mind saying that I'm curious to see what will happen."

"That is, you mean to give _some one_ a good chance to get away with
all these mussel shells, if so be they feel inclined, eh, Max."