were awake last night, and saw what Steve did? Is that it, Bandy-legs?"

"Yes. And, Max, he put the pearls in our old coffee pot, would you believe
it?" the other went on, excitedly.

Max took out the stout little pocketbook which was intended for silver. As
he opened this he remarked:

"Hold your hand, Bandy-legs."

"Good gracious! two, three beautiful pearls! Say, are they ours, the first
one as well as the other two? And how did you get hold of them, Max?" cried
the other when he could catch his breath.

So, of course, Max had to tell him the whole story.

"And we must keep mum about it till you play your hand; is that it?" asked
the wondering and awestruck Bandy-legs, at the conclusion of the recital.

"Try and forget all about it, and act just the same as usual toward Steve,"
said Max.

The other agreed to do his best.

"But, Max," he added, "I'm awful sore over it. Steve Dowdy was never known
as having light fingers all the time I went to school with him. Fact is,
only that I saw him do it with my own eyes, nothing could make me believe
Steve a thief. Oh! it's just rank!"

Max sauntered off, gun in hand, while the cook busied himself about the