end of the island," Max suggested, leading off, gun in hand.

"Oh, wait, I've forgotten something!" cried Bandy-legs, running back.

Steve groaned aloud.

"I just knew he'd remember that blooming old fish spear again!" he
declared. "I saw he'd forgotten it, but I didn't say a word; because he
keeps turning the thing around so that a fellow don't dare call his life
his own. See here, Bandy-legs, let me knock off a few feet from that
long pole. Then mebbe you c'n handle the spear better."

"Oh, that's awful kind of you, Steve; I was just thinking of trying to
do that myself, when you saved me the trouble," remarked Bandy-legs,
sweetly, as he suffered Steve to take the long pole out of his hands,
place it on two stones, and by jumping smartly on it at the weakest
part, manage to sever some four feet of the spear shaft.

"Now you can handle it better; and for goodness' sake keep it away from
my back," Steve went on to say; "there's no telling what you might do,
if you got excited all of a sudden; and I wouldn't like to be taken for
a big carp, or a sucker either."

So they turned their backs on the queer cabin, and once more plunged
into the tangle of vines and vegetation, making their way slowly onward.
At times they could not even see the sun that they knew: was shining
above the leafy canopy over their heads. But Max seemed to have no
difficulty whatever in keeping along a straight course.

"Don't see how he does it," muttered Bandy-legs, as he fumbled with a