"Well, it's a bad habit, and if you'll quit it, I'll give you one of those canes when I get them ready."
"What 'er you goin' to make 'em into?"
"Guns," said Sam, working away as hard as he could with his jack-knife.
"Guns! what sort o' guns? Powder'd burst 'em in a minute, and besides we aint got no powder."
"No, but I'm going to make guns out of these canes, and I'm going to kill something with them too."
"What sort o' guns?"
"Blow guns."
"What's a blow gun, Mas. Sam?" asked Joe, becoming interested, as all the boy were now.
Sam was too busy to answer at the moment and so Tom, who had seen Sam's blow guns at home, answered for him.
"He's going to burn out the joints and then make arrows with iron points and some rabbit fur around the light ends. The fur fills up the hole in the cane, and when he blows in the end it sends the arrow off like a bullet. But Sam!" he cried, suddenly thinking of something.