“Sure! I can do three miles without knowing it. And you?”
“Hump! Brought up within a mile of the Ohio River and been going over to Indiana and back without landing ever since I was in pants.”
“Well, let’s dive now and get clear of the sinking boat. If anything happens to me and you get clear, you write my sister in Lexington—she’s all I have left.”
“All right, Jim! Let’s shake. If I give out and you get through, please go get Judy and take her back to my mother.”
“That’s a go! But see here, there is nothing going to happen to us if endurance will count for anything. Have you got on your money belt?”
“Yes; and you?” said Kent, feeling for the gold he carried around his waist.
“I’m all ready then.”
The boats, loaded to their guards, were putting off. Our young men felt it was much safer to trust to themselves than to the crazy manning of the already overloaded boats. They were singularly calm in their preparations as they strapped on the life preservers.
“Jim, throw away the papers you have, recommending you to that French general. We may get picked up by the submarine, and as plain, pleasure-seeking Americans we have a much better chance of being treated properly than if one of us was going to join the Allies.” Kent had inherited from his mother the faculty of keeping his head in time of peril.
“Good eye, old man! They are in my grip and can just stay there. I reckon I’m a—a—book agent. That won’t compromise me any.”