"Jill? Why, I don't ... she measures up, of course, but ... but at that, there was nothing said against it, either ... I wonder...."
"Why not have the boys in—Jill, too—and thrash it out?"
The young people were called in; the story was told; the problem stated. The boys' reaction was instantaneous and unanimous. Jack Kinnison took the lead.
"Of course Jill's going, if anybody does!" he burst out vehemently. "Count her out, with all the stuff she's got? Hardly!"
"Why, Jack! This, from you?" Jill seemed highly surprised. "I have it on excellent authority that I'm a stinker; a half-witted one, at that. A jelly-brain, with come-hither eyes."
"You are, and a lot of other things besides." Jack Kinnison did not back up a millimeter, even before their fathers. "But even at your sapadilliest your half wits are better than most other people's whole ones; and I never said or thought that your brain couldn't function, whenever it wanted to, back of those sad eyes. Whatever it takes to be a Lensman, sir," he turned to Samms, "she's got just as much of as the rest of us. Maybe more."
"I take it, then, that there is no objection to her going?" Samms asked.
There was no objection.
"What ship shall we take, and when?"
"The Chicago. Now." Kinnison directed. "She's hot and ready. We didn't strike any trouble going or coming, so she didn't need much servicing. Flit!"