"Who looks after the grub part of it?" demanded Bluff, who was never
known to be separated from his appetite.
"That's my part, too," said Frank; "only, if any of you have any
particular fancy in the line of stuff to eat now's the time to add it to
the list I've made out."
"Let's take a squint at it, partner," remarked Bluff, anxiously.
He ran through the list.
"Don't think I'm going on short rations," laughed Frank, noting the
expression akin to dismay appearing on the other's face; "but you see
we'll have our motor-cycles along, and when we need a new lot of
groceries it'll just be fun to mount and fly down here to pick up a
bundle. Read out the variety, Bluff, and see if any one thinks we want
anything else."
"H'm, here's matches, sugar, tea, coffee, condemned milk--I mean
condensed milk--butter, four loaves of bread made at home by Frank's
hired girl, who's a dandy cook," read Bluff, in a sing-song tone. "Then
comes bacon, salt pork for cooking fish with, half a ham, potatoes,
pepper and salt, self-raising flour, cornmeal, fine hominy, rice, beans,
canned corn, tomatoes, Boston baked beans, a jar of jam, canned
corned-beef and crackers.
"What else--don't all speak at once?" asked Frank, holding a
pencil ready.
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