"So it is! Then, where's mine! I mean ours? How
did I get this one?"
"Search me! If you don't know, I'm blessed if I do," chuckled Caspar
Temple. "You must remember something that's happened since yesterday
morning!"
"Han and I went ashore," said Perry, staring puzzledly at the milk-can
from which a tiny stream was trickling past the loosened stopper. "Then
we went to look for our boat and I found this and I yelled to him and he
didn't come and so I started back to the boat to get some--" Perry
suddenly remembered his affliction. "Say, got any alcohol?" he asked
anxiously.
"Alcohol? I don't know. Why?"
"I want some." Perry started to scramble out of the tender. "I got
poisoned."
"Snake?" asked Cas hopefully and eagerly.
"Poison-ivy."
"Oh!" The other's voice held keen disappointment. "Well, what do you
want alcohol for?"
"It's good for it," explained Perry, reaching the cockpit. "See if
you've got any, will you, Cas?"
"Y-yes but, honestly, Perry, I wouldn't try it if I were you."
"Why not!"
"Why--why, if you go and drink a lot of alcohol--Besides, I'm all alone
here, and if you got--got troublesome--"
"Drink it, you silly goat! Who's going to drink it? I'm going to rub it
on the places!"
"Oh, I see! That's different.
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