"The water is all gone, Mumps," answered Tom. "Awfully sorry.
Have a glass of root beer," and he poured out a tumbler full.
Willing to drink anything to take that taste out of his mouth, the sneak took the tumbler and gulped down about half of the root beer.
The remainder was about to follow, when suddenly he stopped short.
"Oh, my!"
"Awfully good, isn't it?" put in Dick.
"Good? It tastes like salt water!" snorted Mumps. And he was not far wrong, for Tom had taken the pains to put a lot of salt in to the glass before filling it up.
"Why, that is the best root beer I ever tasted," put in Larry.
"It's as sweet as sugar. Let me taste your glass, Mumps."
"Do so with pleasure," and the sneak passed it over. Larry pretended to take a gulp. "Fine! Couldn't be better. Isn't that so, Frank?" and he passed the glass to Harrington. "It's certainly as good as mine, and that's O. K.," answered Frank; and then George Granbury took the tumbler and declared the root beer was even better than what he had had previously.
"It's certainly your stomach, Mumps, my boy," said Tom. "You look kind of funny—just like a fellow I knew who got the smallpox."
"He does look like a fellow getting the smallpox," put in Dick.
"Mumps, does your tongue feel dry-like?"
"Dry, of course it is dry—and salty," growled Mumps, but he began to grow uneasy.