"Seltzer?" queried the lad. "Do you mean that there fizzy stuff that squirts all over when you press down on the handle of the bottle?"
"That's her!" laughed Jack. "Pass it out—if it's cold."
"Oh, it's cold all right, but nobody around here likes it," volunteered the lad. "I took some once, and it tasted like salt water with needles in it. I'd rather have strawberry pop."
"Seltzer's good for your system, son. Pass it out," ordered Tom, with a laugh at the description of the mineral water, and the lad went to a big refrigerator where, after moving out some tubs of butter, and some bottles of milk, he came upon the seltzer which he set before our heroes.
"That's good!" exclaimed Tom, as he drained his glass, and then, after a brief rest, they started off on the cross-country run again, waving farewell to the lad who had so aptly characterized the seltzer.
They crossed the river at Weldon, and circled up the hill to Marsden. There the going was stiff, and they realized why Jackson had given them such leeway in time, for the slope was a steep one.
"This is good for our legs," remarked Jack, as he plodded on.
"Yes, and Sam and Nick seem to be still ahead of us," remarked Tom.
"They're keeping up well—better than I thought they would."
"Unless they've taken a short cut," suggested George.
"They have to check in at Marsden," said Bert.