The Young Engineers in Nevada

Say got the makings? Eh? inquired Tom Reade glancing up in mild astonishment. Got the makings? persisted the thin dough-faced lad of fourteen who had come into the tent. I believe we have the makings for supper if you mean that you're hungry Tom rejoined. But you've just had your dinner. I know I have replied the youngster. That's why I want my smoke. Your wha-a-at? insisted Tom. By this time light had begun to dawn upon the bronzed athletic young engineer but he preferred to pretend ignorance a little while longer. Say don't you carry the makings? demanded the boy.