“The old lady hasn’t sold that much before in a week,” said Chub. “Who wants some crackers and cheese? Or some raisins? The cheese is fine, but the crackers are a little bit stale.” They perched themselves on the counter and partook of Chub’s hospitality, Dick suggested craftily that if they all ate as much as they could now it wouldn’t be necessary to prepare so much supper when they went back to camp. “And there’s something in that, too,” Dick continued, “for our stores are getting pretty low. We’ll have to have some fresh meat about to-morrow, and some eggs, and--let me see; what else was it I thought of? I know; kerosene. And the ice-chest has been empty for nearly a week.” “Oh, we don’t need ice,” said Chub. “We do in this sort of weather if we’re going to keep meat fresh. And I’d like mighty well to see a little fresh milk and not have to use that canned stuff. And we’re about out of that, too.” “We can get condensed milk here,” said Roy. “I saw some over there on the shelf.” “Oh, let’s!” said Harry. “I tell you what,” Chub said. “To-night we’ll look over the boat and make a list of what we need. Then if we can get any of the things here we’ll do it. What do you say?” “Good scheme,” replied Roy. “It’ll put some money in Mrs. Peel’s pocket.” They were still discussing it when there was the sound of a wagon stopping in front of the store. The arrivals proved to be a farmer and his wife, and for the next quarter of an hour all hands were busy. The farmer wanted axle-grease, horse liniment, five-pounds of red ocher, five gallons of kerosene, a bag of flour, and ten pounds of sugar. While the boys were hunting these things up, Harry was following the farmer’s wife all around the store, from one show-case to another, explaining the absence of Mrs. Peel and exhibiting the goods. “Well, now, I call it right down kind of you young folks to keep store for her,” declared the woman. “I hope her sister ain’t very sick, but she didn’t look real strong when she was here awhile back. How much is that wide yellow ribbon?” “Fifteen cents a yard,” replied Harry promptly, having thoroughly investigated the contents of the ribbon-case and the prices earlier in the afternoon. “My, ain’t that a lot? Still, I always was partial to yellow; it seems so sort of cheerful, don’t it? You can cut me a yard and a quarter, I guess. And I want a dozen sheets of writing-paper, the kind that’s ruled, you know, and a package of envelopes to fit.” When the customers departed, Harry reckoned up the sales and announced gleefully that four dollars and twelve cents had been added to the treasury. “I haven’t had so much fun since I had the measles,” said Chub. “Did you observe the artistic way in which I did up that bundle?” “And did you see me handle the sugar-scoop?” asked Dick. “I believe I was cut out for a storekeeper, fellows.”