"Well, I do declare!" laughed the little woman, filling each of three pails from the fresh milk, that stood on a bench, under the kitchen window. "Now, our man goes right by your house to-morrow morning, and if you leave the pails outside he will get them. Maybe your mothers might like some fresh milk, or buttermilk, or fresh eggs, or new butter?" she asked.
"Shouldn't wonder," said Hal. "We have hard work to get fresh stuff; they seem to send it all to the hotels. I'll let the man know when he comes for the pails."
"Thank you, thank you," replied the little woman, "and much obliged for bringing Daisy home. If you ever want a drink of milk, and are out this way, just knock at my door and I'll see you don't go away thirsty."
After more thanks on both sides, the lost boys started homeward, like a milk brigade, each with his bright tin pail of sweet new milk in his hand.
CHAPTER XIII
THE BOAT CARNIVAL
"It didn't seem right to take all this milk," remarked Hal, as the three boys made their way in the dark, along the ocean road.
"But we would have offended the lady had we refused," said Harry. "Besides, we may be able to get her good customers by giving out the samples," he went on. "I'm sure it is good milk, for the place was clean, and that cow we found, or that found us, was a real Jersey."
The other boys did not attempt to question Harry's right to give expert views where cows and milk were concerned; so they made their way along without further comment.
"I suppose our folks will think we are lost," ventured Hal.