“Oh, how I’d like to believe you!” said Archie, as they disappeared down the companionway.
“Get out your watch,” challenged Lucile. “I’ll wager a pound of my home-made fudge against a pound of Huyler’s that we’ll be back before the five minutes are up.”
“If I were you, Arch,” said Phil, loudly, for the benefit of his sister, “I’d rather lose than win,” which was treated with a laugh of merry derision.
CHAPTER XIX
THE BREATH OF THE WAR GOD
The girls proved as good as their word and five minutes later tumbled breathlessly on deck, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with triumph.
“Where’s that pound of Huyler’s?” Lucile demanded, with an “I told you so” look at Archie.
“I’ll pay it as soon as we get to shore,” he promised. “It’s worth ten boxes of candies to see you so soon,” he added, gallantly, and, catching Lucile about the waist, he fox-trotted up the deck to the accompaniment of his own merry whistle.