"Well, it's a bad habit, and if you'll quit it, I'll give you one of
those canes when I get them ready."

"What 'er you goin' to make 'em into?"

"Guns," said Sam, working away as hard as he could with his
jack-knife.

"Guns! what sort o' guns? Powder'd burst 'em in a minute, and besides
we aint got no powder."

"No, but I'm going to make guns out of these canes, and I'm going to
kill something with them too."

"What sort o' guns?"

"Blow guns."

"What's a blow gun, Mas. Sam?" asked Joe, becoming interested, as all
the boy were now.

Sam was too busy to answer at the moment and so Tom, who had seen
Sam's blow guns at home, answered for him.

"He's going to burn out the joints and then make arrows with iron
points and some rabbit fur around the light ends. The fur fills up the
hole in the cane, and when he blows in the end it sends the arrow off
like a bullet. But Sam!" he cried, suddenly thinking of something.

"What is it?" asked the elder brother without looking up.