“Never heard of that craft,” Darrin returned, his eyes opening wide. “She doesn’t sail from this port, does she?”
“No,” and Danny Grin, his mouth wreathed in smiles, named a near-by port.
“When do you take her over?”
“To-morrow.”
“And sail?”
“Same day.”
Darrin gripped his chum’s hand, murmuring:
“I wish you all the success in the world, Danny-boy,” he called, heartily.
“How would you like to go with me?” Dalzell continued, eagerly.
“What on earth are you talking about?”