the bottom of their boats? Oh, it's a wise guy you show yourself, old
boy. They don't ketch you asleep, do they? Weasels ain't in it with
Bandy-legs, boys. You see from the way he looks at that oak yonder,
that's his choice, when she comes bowling along here."

Max had some little scheme of his own on his mind. He did not even take
his cousin into his confidence; but along after lunch he picked up the
gun, and, remarking that he might go for a little walk along the shore,
left them wondering.

They knew Max well enough to feel pretty certain he must have something
"hatching," as Steve put it; and all sorts of guesses were indulged in
during his absence.

Although the four boys left in camp amused themselves in a variety of
ways, even fishing with fair success, as Steve had done on the preceding
day, time hung heavy on their hands that afternoon. It seemed as though
the sun would never draw near the line of far-away hills that marked the
western horizon.

More than a few times Owen would look up, as some slight sound caught
his ear. He was listening for the report of the gun Max carried; but as
the minutes turned into hours, and nothing was heard, Owen began to grow
anxious.

He had almost reached the point of proposing that they give a halloo,
and if no reply came, start out to look for the absent chum, when a
moving figure up the shore caught his attention, and presently it
developed into Max.