"But Mr Dean wouldn't like it if he knew I'd thrown his wheels overboard."
"Dean is a servant. He's paid to do things for you. His feelings don't matter.... But you needn't tell him you threw his wheels away. Say they slipped over the side. Now, get a pencil and paper, and let me see you work out a better contrivance."
Olaf obeyed, though reluctantly, and presently he was deep amongst the problems of the inventor. Lars Larssen watched the boy with a tenderness that few would have given him credit for.
"I've got it! Look, Dad!" cried the boy excitedly, and began to explain his idea and his tangled drawing.
"Good! That's what I want from you. Now, don't you feel better at having worked out the idea all on your own?"
"Yes, Dad. I'll go to Mr Chips at once and get it made. In which part of the ship does he live?"
"You must find that out yourself."
"How much shall I offer him?"
"Don't offer him anything. Make friends with him, and he'll do it for you for nothing."
"But I always give people money to do things for me."