“I had some breakfast,” replied Jack. He hardly felt like calling it his regular morning meal.
“I jest happened t’ think they don’t serve meals in freight cars,” went on the country lad, with a shrewd smile. “Say, how’d ye like a nice drink of rich milk? Our cows give fine milk.”
“I’d like it very much,” answered Jack. “But can you spare it?”
“Shucks, yes! I’ve got a hundred an’ sixty quarts here in these cans. Wait; I’ll git ye a good drink.”
“I haven’t a cup or a glass,” objected Jack, “and I’m afraid I can’t drink out of one of those cans.”
“I’ll fix it,” replied Ferd. He stopped the horse and then, removing the top of one of the cans, tilted the receptacle over until a stream of thick, creamy milk flowed into the cover.
“There ye are,” he announced. “Drink that, an’ it’ll make ye feel better.”
It certainly did. Jack thought it was the best beverage he had ever had, not even excepting an ice cream soda.
The ride was resumed, and soon they came in sight of a series of low buildings.
“That’s the dairy,” announced Ferd. “Now we’ll see if ye kin git a job there.”