"How's tricks?" the owner asked the small freckled Irishman who saluted him as the boat touched the wharf.
"Niver was better, sir," he grinned.
"These are my two nephews, and they're going with us, and, boys, this is the first mate of the Valkyrie, Patrick Barney," he introduced them.
"Faith an' it's meself as is glad to know yees," the mate assured them holding out a hand to each, and their eager grasp must have made him sure that his pleasure was reciprocated.
"Where's Ole?" Mr. Lakewood asked.
"The Cap'n wint up town aboot an hour ago, but he said as how he'd be back by nine o'clock. Will yees go out?"
"I reckon. Come on, boys, jump in and we'll look her over a bit."
The second mate, a large bony man in the early thirties and evidently a typical Down East Yankee, whom their uncle introduced as Josh Kelley, met them as they mounted the companion way and both boys took an instant liking to him.
The boat had been newly painted, and her brass shown like gold, and everywhere she was spotlessly clean.
"She's guaranteed to do twenty-five knots," their uncle told them as he led the way to the cabin.