Gustav agreed readily to this plan. “Say, I want to see those ships,” he said, and to Arne’s pleasure insisted on going out to the workshop then and there. “These are good, Arne,” he said, picking up one and another. “Really good.”
Arne was pleased yet a little shy, too, at the praise. “I did them mostly for you,” he said, “and when you were so late coming it was awfully hard to keep at them.”
Gustav nodded. “I can believe that all right, boy, but I’m glad you stuck,” he said, and his dark eyes were softer than usual. “You practically built Norway a new merchant fleet here.”
“Now how are we going to get them in there, Gustav?” asked Arne.
“We’ll smuggle them in while the womenfolk are busy about supper. You’ll have them all bundled up ready, won’t you? We may have to make a foray in through the parlor window.”
“Commando raid!” said Arne with a grin.
Gustav grinned back and rumpled Arne’s hair so that it stuck up even more than usual. “That’s right. And on defenseless womenfolk at that. Now I’d say late this afternoon would be about right. How does that strike you?”
Arne chuckled. “About the time Father fires off the gun that tells us it’s Christmas Eve. You and I will be putting up the sheaves of grain for the birds, and it will give us a good chance to get away.”
“You’ve got the idea, boy! And there’s lots to do between then and now.”