“For snake bite?” he inquired. “Who’s been bitten?”
“Nobody’s been bitten,” I said with dignity. “I just want a little to
have on hand in case of trouble.”
He looked around and lowered his voice. “I get you,” he said. “Well,
I haven’t any now, but I will have next week. Eight dollars a quart.
Prewar stuff.”
When I told him I couldn’t wait he stared at me strangely, and when
I turned at the door he had called another man, and they were both
looking after me and shaking their heads.