“Why not what, sir?” Sandy asked in polite puzzlement.
“Why not sign on a pair of young huskies from California as a sort of small reward for saving this leathery old skin of mine—that’s what!”
Sandy Steele drew a sharp breath of joy and Jerry James had to keep from jumping on the mess table to dance a jig.
“You don’t mean it, sir!” Sandy gasped.
“Certainly, I mean it. Why, wouldn’t you boys rather see the Great Lakes from the decks of a long boat than from the bottom of some dusty old ore digging?”
“Would we!” Jerry shouted. “Just ask us, that’s all—just ask us!”
“I already have,” Mr. Kennedy said, chuckling. He was obviously enjoying the sensation his offer had created.
“Well, then, we accept,” Sandy Steele said quickly. “When do we start?”
“You can come aboard tonight, if you like. In fact, you probably should. The James Kennedy is shoving off in the morning. You’d better not take any chances on missing her.”
“Right,” Sandy said, grinning in delight at his friend Jerry. Then, his face fell and he exclaimed, “Dad! We promised Dad we’d have dinner with him!”