“By law I can’t sell you these without a written doctor’s prescription,” went on the clerk.
“Oh, that will be all right,” put in Coulter.
“I won’t dare to put our labels on the bottles,” added the clerk.
“Put on any old thing,” answered Ritter. “We are not buying labels—we are buying chemicals.” And then the clerk pasted plain bits of paper on the bottles and scribbled on them with a lead pencil.
“We’ll take some packages of cigarettes, too,” said Ritter, after the bottles were delivered to him.
“Time for us to get out,” whispered Pepper to his chum. “They’ll be on the way to the Hall in a few minutes more.”
“Oh, they’ll likely stop for a smoke,” answered Andy. “But we might as well get back—we have accomplished what we came for. Won’t they be mad when they learn how they have been fooled!”
CHAPTER VIII
A SCARE ON THE ROAD
Carrying their wheels to the back of the yard behind the drug store, the two cadets lifted them over a board fence and jumped after them. Then they crossed a vacant lot and came out on a back street. Here they lit their bicycle lamps and then leaped into the saddles and were off.
“It’s a fine night for a ride,” observed Andy. “Wish we didn’t have to go right back to the Hall. I’d like to take a spin of ten or twelve miles.”