“Let’s try it,” exclaimed Fred. “As Grant says we can’t be any worse off than we are now. Perhaps we’ll be better.”
“Ah think dat’s a fine idea,” said Sam enthusiastically. “Ah can row, too.”
“No, you steer,” directed Grant. “Give me your compass, Pop, and set a course for him. You follow it exactly, Sam.”
“Ah sho’ will,” agreed Sam, delighted at the idea of having no work to do and the responsibility of steering the boat.
“I guess I’m not a pretty handy sort of a fellow to have around,” George remarked with a grin as he took the compass from around his neck and handed it to Sam. “I haven’t written in my diary lately, though.”
“Have you still got that with you, Pop?” exclaimed John.
“Surely. You don’t think I’d lose that, do you?”
“I thought you might in all this mixup.”
“No, indeed,” said George warmly. “I wouldn’t lose my diary for anything.”
“Give Sam the course to steer,” exclaimed Grant. “You all talk so much.”