the milk.

"What are those men laughing about, I wonder," commented Betty idly,
as a fresh burst of laughter came from the table in the corner of the
room. "What a noise they make! Bob, do I imagine it, or does this
bread taste of oil?"

Bob laughed, and glanced over his shoulder to make sure the
counter-man could not hear.

"Do you know, I thought that very thing," he confessed. "I wasn't
going to mention it, for fear you'd think I was obsessed with the
notion of oil. To tell you the truth, Betsey, I think this bread has
been near the kerosene oil can, not an oil well."

"Well, we can drink the milk," said Betty philosophically. "It's
lucky one sandwich apiece was good. Oh, won't it be fine to get to
Flame City and see Uncle Dick! I want to get where we are going,
Bob!"

"Sure you do," responded Bob sympathetically, frowning with annoyance
as another hoarse burst of laughter came from the corner table. "But
I'm afraid Flame City isn't going to be much of a place after all."

"I don't care what kind of place it is," declared Betty firmly. "All
I want is to see Uncle Dick and be with him. And I want you to find
your aunts. And I'd like to go to school with the Littell girls next
fall. And that's all."

Bob smiled, then grew serious.

"I'd like to go to school myself," he said soberly. "Precious little
schooling I've had, Betty. I've read all I could, but you can't get
anywhere without a good, solid foundation. Well, there'll be time
enough to worry about that when school time comes. Just now it is
vacation."

"Bob!"--Betty spoke swiftly--"look what those men are doing--teasing
that poor Chinaman. How can they be so mean!"

Sure enough, one of the group had slouched forward in his chair, and
over his bent shoulders Bob and Betty could see an unhappy Chinaman,
clutching his knife and fork tightly and looking with a hunted
expression in his slant eyes from one to another of his tormentors.
They were evidently harassing him as he ate, for while they watched
he took a forkful of the macaroni on the plate before him, and
attempted to convey it to his mouth. Instantly one of the men
surrounding him struck his arm sharply, and the food flew into the
air. Then the crowd laughed uproariously.

"Isn't that perfectly disgusting!" scolded Betty. "How any one can
see anything funny in doing that is beyond me. Oh, now look--they've
got his slippers."

The unfortunate Chinaman's loose flat slippers hurtled through the