“'Nuff said, Alden P. Ricks. I accept the dare. Sonny, if you're a worse sailor-man than you appear to be, you're liable to cost your father a sizable wad. However, I can't resist this opportunity to put a nick in the Ricks bank roll.” Gurney snickered. “Alden,” he declared, “you'll bleed for a month of Sundays. Really, this is too easy! For old sake's sake, I'll give you a chance to withdraw before it is too late.”
“Let the tail go with the hide, Joe. I don't often bet, but when I do I'm no piker. Joey, there's just one little condition I'm going to exact, however. I'm going to send one of my own skippers along with you on the Tyee, because your license as master only permits you to skipper pleasure boats up to a hundred tons net register; so in order to comply with the law I'll have to have a sure-enough skipper aboard the Tyee. But he shall have orders from me to be nothing but a companion to you, Joey. Once the tugboat casts you off, you are to be in supreme command until you voluntarily relinquish your authority, when of course he will take the ship off your hands. Any relinquishment of authority, however, will be tantamount to failure, and you will, of course, lose your twenty-five thousand.”
“That's a reasonable stipulation, godfather. I accept if father does—that is, provided dad lets me in on half the bet.”
“Better let the young feller in, Joe,” Cappy suggested. “If you don't he might throw the race.”
“Well, I don't like to encourage the habit of betting, least of all with my own son, but in view of the fact that this is a friendly little bet and—er—well, you can have half, Joey.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Joey. “Mr. Ricks, when do I start?”
Cappy Ricks glanced at his watch.
“The sooner the better,” he replied. “The Tyee is loading now, but I'll wire them you're coming and to hold her for you. You have time to arrange your affairs, pack a trunk and catch the Lake Shore Limited for Chicago at five o'clock. From Chicago you take the—”
“Never mind. I know the quickest route. Dad, I'll need some money before I go.”
“How much, son?”