Cuban lad. "I'm going to call you cousin, from now on, if you don't object."
"I am honored," answered Miguel, with a stately bow.
Exploring part of the beach, near the signal mast, Dick and his two companions found a number of soft clams, of which they gathered a quantity, carrying them in a bag which the kidnappers had left with Miguel.
"We'll have them steamed on a fire in a pile of seaweed," suggested the young millionaire. "It'll be a shore dinner, though the usual fixings will be missing."
They found the whole party assembled on the beach, near the campfire, waiting for them, Paul and Beeby having returned empty handed. There was rather a glum look on their faces.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick. "You look as if you'd lost your last friend."
"We didn't find any grub," explained Beeby.
"But we did, and I found something else," went on the lad of millions. "Here are slathers of soft clams. We can't starve while they hold out."
"We saw some like those, but I didn't think they were any good," remarked Beeby. "We were looking for something worth while."
"You'll find these worth while when you're hungry," went on Dick. "Come on, now, fellows, get a good fire going, gather some seaweed and we'll have a feast. But, first, I've got some
