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r companionway leading to the cabins.
"You come along and see," returned Bob Hollinger mysteriously. "Dad's gone uptown, so we got the craft to ourselves right now."
Mart followed his friend down into the cabin, then stopped suddenly and caught his breath. A big mahogany chest stood open at one side, and on the table was laid out an astonishing array of hunting supplies. There were guns of every conceivable size and shape, it seemed to him. He picked up the first to hand and examined it, while Bob excitedly explained.
"That's a Mannlicher-Schoener. It's dad's favorite for big game, Mart."
"Huh!" exclaimed Mart critically. "She ain't much bigger'n the old twenty-two I used to have, Holly. I'll eat all the big game your dad ever shoots with that gun!"
"Don't you believe it! That's the Austrian army gun--she's a two-fifty-six caliber cordite, hasn't any kick to speak of, and they use it on elephants in Africa. Why, she'll kill at a mile, Mart!"
"Mebbe," and Mart doubtfully laid the weapon down. "You'll have to show me first, though. Whew! this looks like a regular hardware shop! That's a beaut of a shotgun."
While it hardly seemed possible that the Austrian gun could be all Bob said, Mart knew that his chum was well posted. However, there were guns of all sizes and kinds, from target rifles to heavy twenty-gauge Parker shotguns, as well as four ugly-looking automatic pistols. Besides these there were half a dozen long hunting-knives, bandoliers, belts, and other articles of equipment.
"Dad sent down his whole outfit," explained Bob gleefully. "We're likely to get a chance for some fine shooting on the voyage. But say! Come in here a minute! This'll make you sit up, sure!"
He hastily led his chum into the smoking-room beyond. A large packing-case stood on the floor, and on the table was a small but complete moving-picture machine, at sight of which Mart gave a yell of delight.
"By golly!" he cried, examining it. "It's one o' those English things, H