"Ya--as?" drawled the baggage-man. He had come into the car with the
girls and now looked down at the fretting puppy. "Ya--as," he repeated;
"but where are you going to get milk?"

"From the so-called cow-tree," said Bess soberly, "which is found quite
commonly in the jungles of Brazil. You score the bark and the wood
immediately beneath it with an axe, or machette, insert a sliver of clean
wood, and the milky sap trickles forth into your cup--"

"How ridiculous!" interposed Nan, while the baggage-man burst into
appreciative laughter.

"Well," said Bess, "when folks are cast away like us, don't they
always find the most wonderful things all about them--right to their
hands, as it were?"

"Like a cow-tree in a baggage car?" said Nan, with disgust.

"Well! how do _you_ propose to find milk here?" demanded her chum.

"Why," said Nan, with assurance, "I'd look through the express matter and
see if there wasn't a case of canned milk going somewhere--"

"Great! Hurrah for our Nan!" broke in Bess Harley, in admiration. "Who'd
ever have thought of that?"

"But we couldn't do that, Miss," said the baggage-man, scratching his
head. "We'd get into trouble with the company."

"So the poor dog must starve," said Bess, saucily.