Jim could only clutch the hand of Max when he said this and squeeze it. But the other felt something moist drop on the back of his hand, and was sure it must be a tear.
The boys were once more taken in charge, and their interrupted march along the trail resumed.
When they entered the camp various were the exclamations of surprise from the three who had been left in charge.
Of course a perfect rain of questions followed, and for some time both Max and his fellow laborers in the shellfish industry were kept busily employed answering these interrogations.
Finally, as the sun was sinking low, Jim was allowed to depart, fairly laden with the various good things which the campers insisted on sending to the unfortunate tramp printer.
"We can spare them easy enough," Max had remarked.
"Sure we can, and more, too," echoed Owen.
"B-b-besides, we've b-b-been so lucky, you k-k-know, in our hunt for p-p-pearls, we ought to be g-g-g-g—"
Again came the usual pounding on the back, which produced no results; but as soon as Toby could pucker up his lips, so as to whistle, he immediately calmed down enough to shout at the top of his voice:
"Generous—there!"