they’d started from.

Mr. Kennedy looked at them soberly. “That is too bad,” he said. “But what your father says about the mines is true, Sandy.” He frowned. “How I wish it were not! Listen, boys, and I’ll let you in on a little business secret.” They leaned toward him, and Mr. Kennedy went on. “This boat, the James Kennedy, is making one of my firm’s last runs down the lakes to Buffalo.” He shook his head. “There’s just nothing to be done about this low-grade-ore situation, and I’ve decided to sell the shipping line.” He grimaced. “In fact, I’m selling out to my worst competitor, not the sort of fellow I’d like to sit down to dinner with, boys. But he’s made me an offer, and I’m taking it.

“That’s business, boys. So, you young fellows have the rather doubtful honor of sitting in the galley of the last of the Kennedy boats to—”

Mr. Kennedy’s mouth came open and he brought his clenched hand down on the table with a crash that startled Sandy and Jerry.

“Why not?” he said, smiling at them.

“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!”

Mr. Kennedy glanced at his watch. “Why, it’s only six o’clock,” he said. “If I know John Steele, he’ll be working well past that.” Looking up, he said, “Don’t tell me two deck hands like yourselves are going to object to eating a second dinner?”

Jerry James grinned sheepishly. “Well, sir, if you put it that way—I guess not. In fact,” he said, rubbing his stomach gently, “I’m not quite as full as I thought I was.”

“I thought so,” Mr. Kennedy said, getting to his feet and leading the way out of the galley. “Now,” he continued, puffing at the exertion of climbing the ladder topside, “you boys had better get your things together and report back here to Captain West. He’ll be notified that you’re shipping aboard. Captain West’s one of the finest skippers on the Kennedy Line.”

They walked together to the lake shore. At the end of the dock, Sandy could see a handsome, well-kept limousine—not flashy and loaded with chrome, like Pepper March’s.

“I’m driving back to Buffalo, boys,” Mr. Kennedy told them. “Getting too old to weather those Great Lakes storms, I guess. I’ve sailed the Kennedy boats since I was fifteen, but now....” His voice trailed off and his kindly face saddened. “Well, now, I guess things are changing. The Kennedy boats will soon be the Chadwick boats. By the time I get home, I suppose Paul Chadwick will have the whole deal drawn up and waiting for my signature.”

He held out his hand. “Goodbye, boys. Have a happy voyage—and remember to give your father my best, Sandy.” He turned and walked slowly to the car and the chauffeur who held a rear door open for him. He was a mournful figure as he got in the back and drove off in silence.

Sandy and Jerry waved as the car departed, and then Sandy said through clenched teeth, “Oh, how I hope Dad can locate some high-grade ore deposits!”

“Me, too!” Jerry James exclaimed. “I’d hate to see a fine old gentleman like Mr. Kennedy forced to sell his shipping line.”

“And to someone he doesn’t trust!” Sandy added, his face serious and his voice grim. “Come on, Jerry, we’d better hurry if we want to get to Dad’s place before dark.”

CHAPTER FOUR
A Plot Discovered

“Now, supposing I tell you my good news?”

The speaker was John Steele. He asked his question as he and Sandy and Jerry carried their loaded trays from the cafeteria-style mess hall to their table on a terrace outdoors overlooking the lake.

Ever since the two youths had rejoined Sandy’s father—almost bumping into Captain West as he came out of the field shack for the second time that day—they had been eagerly recounting their good fortune. Sandy’s father had been delighted to hear that his old friend John Kennedy had signed on his son and Jerry for the Duluth-to-Buffalo run. At one point, when he asked Sandy how they had met Mr. Kennedy, Sandy flushed and looked away.

Jerry James had proudly jumped into the breach. “Sandy saved Mr. Kennedy’s life, Mr. Steele,” Jerry had said.

Then, of course, nothing would do but that Jerry should relate the entire episode while John Steele listened with shining eyes. At last, Mr. Steele had proposed dinner. Now, as he said, “Supposing I tell you my good news?” Sandy was glad to have someone change the subject.

“Sure, Dad,” he said. “Fire away.”

John Steele drew a deep breath. “I’ve discovered some high-grade ore deposits,” he said.

For the second time that day, Sandy and Jerry felt a wild thrill of joy. For a day that had started out so badly, things were indeed looking up!

“Wonderful, Dad, wonderful! Where?”

“Not too far from Lake Superior. Of course, they’ll have to run the railroad spur a bit farther inland, but that’s really no problem.” John Steele’s voice took on a note of pride. “Matter of fact, these deposits are rather rich. Sixty per cent iron content, I’d say—maybe even more.”

“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.”