“‘Noble’s Chill and Fever Compound,’” he read, “‘safe and certain. Ask your druggist.’”
“‘Ask your druggist,’” sneered Dick. “I’d like to have the chance to ask a druggist! I wouldn’t ask for that, though; I’d ask for a chocolate, or an egg-and-milk.”
“I suppose those things are stuck all along the road,” said Roy, throwing himself down again on the bank. “We know that that one isn’t the one we saw before.”
“Maybe if we sit here much longer,” said Chub, “we’ll be glad to know of a good remedy for chills and fever. I’m going on.”
“Where?” asked Roy.
“Anywhere! What matters it? If we walk long enough we’ll come to a village. And once in a village if I don’t get my hands on a sandwich and a cup of coffee it’s a wonder!”
“Well,” sighed Dick, “which way shall we go?”
“South,” answered Chub. “I saw a sort of a village a mile or so before we stopped this afternoon. Come on, fellows; never say die!”
“Maybe we will come across a house pretty soon,” said Roy. “If we do let’s ask for something to eat and a bed in the barn.”
“I don’t think they have beds in the barns around here,” replied Chub, flippantly. “However, whatever we do let us not—remark the emphasis, please—let us NOT ask for milk!”