"The queerest thing of all," remarked Steve, after he had mastered his disappointment, "was in our finding the pair of beauties at the same time."
"Yes, and I believe my mussel was as thin and scrawny looking a fellow as the one you complained of," laughed Max.
"Forget that, please," remarked his chum, with a grimace. "And just to think, I came near throwing that consumptive looking one away as worthless. It's taught me a lesson, sure, Max."
"Yes, and one you'll never forget, eh, Steve?"
"I never will," declared the other, vehemently. "Whenever I think of this lucky strike I'm going to understand that you never can judge things, people also, by outside looks."
"Sometimes the finest gems come in the meanest of coverings, you mean, eh,
Steve?"
"Right-o. And now what'll we do?" asked the other.
"Carry the shells away, because in a few days we'd object to the rank odor so near our tent. Listen, Steve. Make a heap of the things, under some tree you can remember well. We can call that our shell pile, you know."
"See here, you've got a meaning back of all that, you know it," complained Steve.
Max laughed aloud.