"I guess we'd better stock up on a few supplies, eh, fellows?" Frank suggested.
This had been their plan. Instead of burdening their machines with provisions all the way from Bayport, they had decided to get supplies at the village nearest to the caves.
"Perhaps we won't have to stock up very heavily," said Joe. "If the caves aren't far away we may be able to drive up here when we run short of grub."
"That," said the hungry Chet, "would be terrible."
Frank turned to the old gentleman, who had put aside his paper and was regarding them through his thick-lensed spectacles with grave curiosity, as though they were some new specimen of humanity entirely.
"How far is it to the place they call Honeycomb Cliffs?" he asked.
The old gentleman's eyes widened.
"Honeycomb Cliffs!" he said, in a high, cracked voice. "Be ye goin' to pass by there?"
"We want to camp around there for a few days and we were figuring on buying some supplies. If it's far away we'll buy all we need right now and carry the stuff with us."
The old man leaned farther over the counter.