"Ay, ay, sir," was all he said.
"I have a proposition to make to you," continued the captain. "We need a bos'n, will you sign on? If you do not care to we will put you ashore at the first convenient port or hail a homeward-bound ship and have you transferred."
The old sailor looked positively hurt.
"What; me lose an opportunity to see the South Pole, to shoot Polar bears—"
"There aren't any," put in Billy.
"Wall, whatever kind of critters there are there," went on the old man, "no, sir; Ben Stubbs ain't the man to hold back on a venture like this. Sign me on as bos'n, and if I don't help nail Uncle Sam's colors to the South Pole call me a doodle-bug."
"A doodle-bug," exclaimed Professor Sandburr, "What kind of a bug is that? If you know where to find them I hope you will catch one and forward it to me."
Ben grinned.
"I guess doodle-bugs is like South Polar bears," he said.
"How is that, my dear sea-faring friend?"