"Oh, Dad, I wish something could be done!" cried Marjorie. "I'll never forgive myself if we go away from here and leave that old man grieving!" She looked at Trask and caught a twinkle in his eye.
"Well, I'll send him back to the States if you feel that way about it," said Locke.
"He won't go," said Jarrow. "We've all tried to send him home. I offered to buy his ticket some time back, but he's got this island on the brain."
"Where is the island?" asked Trask. "I understand it isn't far."
"Oh, up the coast a piece," said Jarrow. "Take a week, say, to go and come back."
"A week!" said Locke. "I had an idea it was a long way off."
"Shucks!" said Jarrow. "No great shakes of a ways. With favourin' winds, a week would do it easy. Of course, if a man wanted to spend a lot of time there, diggin' around, that's a cat of another colour. But with a couple of days to look the place over in good shape, ten days would do it easy."
"Dad, why can't we go?" asked Marjorie. "Just to make Dinshaw happy! You said I might go any place I wanted to on this trip."
"You mean to tell me you want to go schoonering around out in this country, Marge?" Locke was astounded.
"It would be great fun."