“Take a shovel,” replied Jack gravely, “and walk quietly along the flats until you see one. Then you chase it. If it gets to its nest before you can grab it you have to dig it out.”
Bee eyed him suspiciously. “Nest? What are you talking about? Clams burrow in the sand. Think I’m a fool?”
“Can’t a burrow be a nest?” asked Hal. “They’re always called clam nests. Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘As cozy as a clam in its nest?’”
“No, I haven’t. And I don’t believe you have to chase clams. How the dickens could they run?” He held one up for inspection. “They haven’t any legs!”
“They don’t have to have legs,” replied Jack, “and they don’t run. I didn’t say they ran. What they do is put their heads out and pull themselves along with their teeth. And maybe they can’t go!”
“It’s wonderful,” agreed Hal seriously. “Marvellous!”
Bee observed them and grunted skeptically.
“I remember a fellow who used to live on the Neck,” said Jack, “who had a pair of trained clams. Ever hear of him, Hal?”
“Seems to me I have. Wasn’t his name Simpkins or something like that?”