and keep close company with Max and the twelve-bore gun. He carried in
his hand a ferocious-looking fish spear, which he had mounted on a pole
about ten feet long. Owen had the hatchet; Toby the long-bladed knife
which they used to cut bread and ham with; while Steve patted his pocket
in a significant way, as though he carried something there, up to now he
had overlooked, but which seemed to give considerable confidence.

In this manner, then, the five boys sallied out to investigate their
surroundings, and see what the island with the bad name contained. If
they happened to run against some wild-cat, or other savage animal, they
wanted to be in shape to put up a good stiff fight.

Max had to laugh when he saw his chums lined up, armed in this fashion.

"I just pity the poor thing that tries to give this crowd trouble," he
remarked; "to look at the lot of weapons we carry, you'd think we
expected to have a battle for the possession of Catamount Island instead
of starting out on a peaceful little exploring expedition."

"All the same, the handling of such things makes a fellow feel better,"
declared Bandy-legs.

"It may you," burst out Steve, who had been dodging that fish spear
right and left for some time, "but if you keep on trying to poke that
blooming four-pronged stabber into my eyes, like you've been doing, it
won't be much fun for the rest of us. Show him how to carry the thing,
Max, if he must take it along."

This being amicably arranged, with Bandy-legs holding the spear part in
front of him, so that he might make use of it in an emergency as a