Package
marked 'Glass--handle with care.'"
"Bully!" exclaimed the conductor. "That's condensed milk in glass jars,
I bet. A number-one product. I've seen it. Anything else eatable on
your list?"
"Not a thing, Carter."
"How far will twenty-four cans of condensed milk go among this gang of
starving people?" growled a man in overalls and a greasy cap, whom the
girls knew must be the engineer.
"You keep the fire up, Horace, so's we can melt snow," said the
conductor, "and we can dilute the milk all right. It's good stuff."
"Fire!" exclaimed the engineer. "How do you expect my fireman to keep up
a blaze under that boiler on the shag-end of nothing? I tell you the
fire's going out in less than an hour. She ain't making a pound of steam
right now."
"Great Peter, Horace!" ejaculated Mr. Carter, "don't say that. We have
_got_ to have fire!"
"Well, you show me how to keep one going," said the engineer. "Unless you
know some way of burning snow, I don't see how you're going to do it."
"Take it from me, we must find a way to keep steam up in these cars,"
said Mr. Carter. "We've shut off the last two cars. The smoker's packed
with passengers as tight as a can of sardines."
"Oh! I wish he wouldn't talk about things eatable," groaned Bess, in
Nan's ear.
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