quote some prices on having some milling done."
"I can do that!" exclaimed Chet. "Dad's a farmer, and he's often said he wished the old Turner mill was running again so he wouldn't have to haul his grain so far."
The boys emerged from the bushes and crossed the weed-grown open space near the front of the mill. The other lad had not yet seen them. He was standing by the mill race, some distance below, gazing into the water, now and then raising his head to look at the clacking wheel that turned monotonously in showers of dripping water.
"I'm curious about this patent food story," Frank said. "It's queer there wasn't anything in the papers about it. Nobody except the farmers, like Stummer, seems to have heard about the mill being taken over."
"Oh, probably they want to keep it to themselves until everything is ready," Jerry pointed out. "I'll bet you're beginning to see some kind of mystery in this already, Frank. Chances are we'll just get kicked off the premises for our pains."
"Oh, I don't think there's any mystery about it," said Frank, with a smile. "But I'm just curious to know what it's all about."
"No law against that," Phil agreed. "If this breakfast food invention of theirs turns
