“What a day, huh, Jerry? Just think, this means that Mr. Kennedy may not have to sell his lake boats, after all.”
“That’s right, son. If this vein is as rich as I think it is, he may even have to build a few more boats—to take care of the load.”
Sandy Steele’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Dad,” he burst out, “I’ve got a great idea!”
“What’s that, Sandy?”
“Where can I get in touch with Mr. Kennedy? He was leaving for Buffalo.”
“Why, I would say he’s heading for Minneapolis first. He won’t be there until quite late. Why, Sandy—what do you have in mind?”
“I’m going to put in a long-distance call and tell him the good news! After all, he’s been pretty good to Jerry and me. This is the least we can do for him.”
“I’d say you’ve been pretty helpful already, Sandy,” Mr. Steele drawled. Then, smiling, he went on, “But you don’t need to worry. That’s all been taken care of. Captain West has been informed, and he will tell Mr. Kennedy.”
“Oh,” Sandy said, a note of doubt mingling with the disappointment in his voice.
“Sandy!” John Steele’s voice was sharp. “What did you mean by that ‘Oh’? You make it sound as though Captain West is not to be trusted.”