But now that Sam had spoken of ore, they remembered it, and Sandy asked the seaman, “Where are we headed now, Sam?”
“Well, now we’re on Lake Huron. We’ll head downlake for Detroit.”
“I didn’t know Detroit was on the Lakes.”
“It isn’t. Not properly, anyway. It’s on the Detroit River, but that’s just the waterway where Huron narrows and empties into Lake Erie.”
“Oh. Will we lay over there?”
“Well—” Sam grinned—“if we don’t—then I’m going to have a mighty disappointed wife and kids.”
“Oh, you live there. Well, thanks, Sam. Come on, Jerry—we’d better be getting back to work.”
The two friends went below. As they entered the galley and began setting up dinner, Sandy said to Jerry, “Maybe Captain West will let us go ashore in Detroit, tomorrow. If he does, we can telephone Mr. Kennedy.”
Jerry pursed his lips. “You know, Sandy, I’ve been thinking. We don’t really know that the skipper is working for that rival firm. I mean, all we have to go on is the fact that you saw him writing a letter addressed to a Mr. Paul Chadwick. That could just be coincidence.”
“Pretty tall coincidence.”