"Why, that's higher than dad would want to pay," Chet said.
Uncle Dock shrugged his shoulders.
"Take it or leave it. We ain't askin' for his trade."
"You won't get it. Not at those prices."
It was quite evident that Uncle Dock and his strange associates were not desirous of encouraging any outside trade for the old mill. However, Frank realized that the men had a right to manufacture patented food in secret if they wished, so he nudged Chet as a signal against any further questions.
They had reached the door of the mill by now, and Markel hustled Lester inside before he had a chance to say anything further to the boys, although the lad cast an appealing glance behind as though he would have liked again to express his thanks to his rescuers.
"Where do you fellows live?" asked Kurt, peering at them from under his shaggy eyebrows.
"Bayport."
"You're a long way from home.
"We're just on a hike," explained Frank. "We just thought we'd come around this way."
"You'll be late for supper if you don't hurry back."
This broad hint was not lost on the boys.
