On his way back to the Rambler after his rather remarkable conversation with the old merchant, Alex met Clay and the old man’s son hastening toward the store.
“It’s all right!” Clay announced to the boy. “They’ve just got in a big stock of gasoline, and we’ll fill all the tanks and buy a few red cans on the side.”
“And for the love of Mike,” Alex interposed, “buy about a peck of spark plugs. And say,” he called out as Clay mounted the little platform in front of the place of business, “buy a couple of fish lines that would bring a freight car out of the water, and the right kind of hooks to go with them.”
“What’s the idea?” Clay called back.
“Well, you just bring the hooks and lines and I’ll show you where the idea is,” replied the boy.
When Alex reached the deck of the Rambler he found Case and Jule busy over a great stack of pancakes. One was spreading them thick with honey and the other was making them more eatable by the use of bacon gravy. Eggs were frying in the skillet over the stove and a great pot of coffee was simmering on the electric coils.
“Whew!” shouted the boy, sticking his nose into the cabin, “you fellows smell good in here.”
“Yes,” Case laughed, “and you took good care that you didn’t help produce the fragrance which pervades this apartment.”
“I got supper last night,” pleaded Alex.
“That’s all right,” Jule cut in, “it was your turn to get breakfast this morning, too. You know what we all agreed to when we left Chicago on the first trip. The boy that talked slang had to cook the meals and wash the dishes.”