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diff --git a/5738-h/5738-h.htm b/5738-h/5738-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e90d43b --- /dev/null +++ b/5738-h/5738-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13251 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Cappy Ricks, by Peter B. Kyne + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks, by Peter B. Kyne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cappy Ricks + +Author: Peter B. Kyne + +Release Date: March 26, 2009 [EBook #5738] +Last Updated: March 12, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPPY RICKS *** + + + + +Produced by Paul J. Hollander, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + CAPPY RICKS + </h1> + <h1> + or, The Subjugation of Matt Peasley + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Peter B. Kyne + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TO THE IDEAL AMERICAN SAILOR + </h2> + <h3> + As exemplified in the persons of my good friends, + </h3> + <p> + Captain Ralph E. Peasley, of Jonesport, Maine, + </p> + <p> + Who skippered the first five-masted schooner ever built, brought her, on + that first voyage, through the worst typhoon that ever blew, and upon + arriving at the Yang Tse Kiang River for the first time in his adventurous + career, decided he could not trust a Chinese pilot and established a + record by sailing her up himself! + </p> + <p> + Captain I. N. Hibberd, of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, + </p> + <p> + Sometime master of the American clipper ship, Cyrus Wakefield, who, at the + age of twenty-five, broke three world's records in one voyage: San + Francisco to Liverpool and back, eight months and two days; Liverpool to + San Francisco, one hundred days; from the equator to San Francisco, eleven + days. The clipper ship is gone but the skipper remains, an undefeated + champion. + </p> + <p> + Captain William P. Cantey, of San Francisco, California, + </p> + <p> + Sometime mate of the brig Galilee, who, with his naked hands, convinced in + thirty-five minutes nine larger men than himself of the incontrovertible + fact that you cannot keep a good man down. + </p> + <p> + TO THE AMERICAN SHIPOWNER + </p> + <p> + As exemplified in the persons of my good friends, + </p> + <p> + John H. Rossiter, Manager of W. R. Grace & Co., of San Francisco. + </p> + <p> + Edwin A. Christenson, President of the Sudden & Christenson S.S. Line, + of San Francisco. + </p> + <p> + John R. Hanify, President of the John R. Hanify Company, of San Francisco. + </p> + <p> + TO THE PACIFIC COAST LUMBERMAN + </p> + <p> + As exemplified in the person of my good friend, + </p> + <p> + Augustus J. (“Gus”) Russell, California Manager for the Portland Lumber + Company, and my personal representative, without salary, in the wholesale + lumber trade, ever since I abandoned lumber for literature. + </p> + <p> + TO FREIGHT, SHIP, AND MARINE INSURANCE BROKERS + </p> + <p> + As exemplified in the persons of my good friends, + </p> + <p> + Messrs. E. B. Smith, Oscar J. Beyfuss, and Allan Hayes. + </p> + <p> + This volume is dedicated, without charge for the advertising but with + profound appreciation of the part they have made in making this book + possible. With the author they must bear an equal burden of whatever of + praise or censure shall entail. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>TO THE IDEAL AMERICAN SAILOR</b> </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> MASTER OF MANY SHIPS + AND SKIPPER OF NONE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE + MAN FROM BLUE WATER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. + </a> UNDER THE BLUE STAR FLAG <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> BAD NEWS FROM CAPE + TOWN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> MATT + PEASLEY ASSUMES OFFICE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. + </a> WORDY WAR AT A DOLLAR A WORD <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> CAPPY RICKS MAKES BAD + MEDICINE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> ALL + HANDS AND FEET TO THE RESCUE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER + IX. </a> MR. MURPHY ADVISES PREPAREDNESS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> THE BATTLE OF TABLE BAY + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> MR. + SKINNER RECEIVES A TELEGRAM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER + XII. </a> THE CAMPAIGN OPENS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> AN OLD FRIEND + RETURNS AND CAPPY LEADS ANOTHER ACE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV. </a> INSULT ADDED TO INJURY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> RUMORS OF WAR <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> WAR! <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> CAPPY FORCES AN + ARMISTICE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> THE + WAR IS RENEWED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> CAPPY + SEEKS PEACE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> PEACE + AT LAST! <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> MATT + PEASLEY MEETS A TALKATIVE STRANGER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> + CHAPTER XXII. </a> FACE TO FACE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> BUSINESS AND— + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> THE + CLEAN UP <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> CAPPY + PROVES HIMSELF A DESPOT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER + XXVI. </a> MATT PEASLEY IN EXILE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> PROMOTION <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> CAPPY HAS A + HEART <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a> NATURE + TAKES HER COURSE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a> MR. + SKINNER HEARS A LECTURE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER + XXXI. </a> INTERNAL COMBUSTION <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a> SKINNER PROPOSES—AND + CAPPY RICKS DISPOSES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. + </a> CAPPY'S PLANS DEMOLISHED <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a> A GIFT FROM THE + GODS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a> A + DIRTY YANKEE TRICK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. + </a> CAPPY FORBIDS THE BANS—YET <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. </a> MATT PEASLEY + BECOMES A SHIPOWNER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. + </a> WORKING CAPITAL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX. </a> EASY MONEY <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL. </a> THE CATACLYSM <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI. </a> WHEN PAIN AND + ANGUISH WRING THE BROW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII. + </a> UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII. </a> CAPPY PLANS A + KNOCK-OUT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV. </a> SKINNER + DEVELOPS INTO A HUMAN BEING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER + XLV. </a> CAPPY PULLS OFF A WEDDING <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0046"> CHAPTER XLVI. </a> A SHIP FORGOTTEN + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0047"> CHAPTER XLVII. </a> THE + TAIL GOES WITH THE HIDE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0048"> CHAPTER + XLVIII. </a> VICTORY <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. MASTER OF MANY SHIPS AND SKIPPER OF NONE + </h2> + <p> + A psychologist would have termed Alden P. Ricks an individualist, but his + associates in the wholesale lumber and shipping trade of the Pacific Coast + proclaimed him a character. + </p> + <p> + In his youth he had made one voyage round Cape Horn as a cabin boy, his + subsequent nautical experience having been confined to the presidency of + the Blue Star Navigation Company and occasional voyages as a first-cabin + passenger. Notwithstanding this apparent lack of salt-water wisdom, + however, his intimate knowledge of ships and the men who go down to the + sea in them, together with his very distinct personality, had conduced to + provide him with a courtesy title in his old age. + </p> + <p> + It is more than probable that, had Alden P. Ricks been a large, commanding + person possessed of the dignity the average citizen associates with men of + equal financial rating, the Street would have called him Captain Ricks. + Had he lacked these characteristics, but borne nevertheless even a remote + resemblance to a retired mariner, his world would have hailed him as Old + Cap Ricks; but since he was what he was—a dapper, precise, shrewd, + lovable little old man with mild, paternal blue eyes, a keen sense of + humor and a Henry Clay collar, which latter, together with a silk top hat, + had distinguished him on 'Change for forty years—it was inevitable + that along the Embarcadero and up California Street he should bear the + distinguishing appellation of Cappy. In any other line of human endeavor + he would have been called Pappy—he was that type of man. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks had so much money, amassed in the wholesale lumber and + shipping business, that he had to engage some very expensive men to take + care of it for him. He owned the majority of the stock of the Ricks Lumber + and Logging Company, with sawmills and timberlands in California, Oregon + and Washington; his young men had to sell a million feet of lumber daily + in order to keep pace with the output, while the vessels of the Blue Star + Navigation Company, also controlled by Cappy, freighted it. There were + thirty-odd vessels in the Blue Star fleet—windjammers and steam + schooners; and Cappy was registered as managing owner of every one. + </p> + <p> + Following that point in his career when the young fellows on the Street, + discovering that he was a true-blue sport, had commenced to fraternize + with him and call him Cappy, the old gentleman ceased to devote his + attention to the details of his business. He was just beginning to enjoy + life; so he shifted the real work of his multifarious interests to the + capable shoulders of a Mr. John P. Skinner, who fitted into his niche in + the business as naturally as the kernel of a healthy walnut fits its + shell. Mr. Skinner was a man still on the sunny side of middle life, + smart, capable, cold-blooded, a little bumptious, and, like the late + Julius Caesar, ambitious. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had Cappy commenced to take life easy than Skinner commenced to + dominate the business. He attended an efficiency congress and came home + with a collection of newfangled ideas that eliminated from the office all + the joy and contentment old Cappy Ricks had been a life-time installing. + He inaugurated card systems and short cuts in bookkeeping that drove Cappy + to the verge of insanity, because he could never go to the books himself + and find out anything about his own business. He had to ask Mr. Skinner—which + made Skinner an important individual. + </p> + <p> + With the passage of five years the general manager was high and low + justice in Cappy's offices, and had mastered the not-too-difficult art of + dominating his employer, for Cappy seldom seriously disagreed with those + he trusted. He saved all his fighting force for his competitors. + </p> + <p> + However, Cappy's interest in the Blue Star Navigation Company did not wane + with the cessation of his activities as chief kicker. Ordinarily, Mr. + Skinner bossed the navigation company as he bossed the lumber business, + for Cappy's private office was merely headquarters for receiving mail, + reading the newspapers, receiving visitors, smoking an after-luncheon + cigar, and having a little nap from three o'clock until four, at which + hour Cappy laid aside the cares of business and put in two hours at bridge + in his club. + </p> + <p> + Despite this apparent indifference to business, however, Mr. Skinner + handled the navigation company with gloves; for, if Cappy dozed in his + office, he had a habit of keeping one eye open, so to speak, and every + little while he would wake up and veto an order of Skinner's, of which the + latter would have been willing to take an oath Cappy had never heard. In + the matter of engaging new skippers or discharging old ones Mr. Skinner + had to be very careful. Cappy always declared that any clerk can negotiate + successfully a charter at the going rates in a stiff market, but skippers + are, in the final analysis, the Genii of the Dividends. And Cappy knew + skippers. He could get more loyalty out of them with a mere pat on the + back and a kindly word than could Mr. Skinner, with all his threats, + nagging and driving, yet he was an employer who demanded a full measure of + service, and never permitted sentiment to plead for an incompetent. And + his ships were his pets; in his affections they occupied a position but + one degree removed from that occupied by his only child, in consequence of + which he was mighty particular who hung up his master's ticket in the + cabin of a Blue Star ship. Some idea of the scrupulous care with which he + examined all applicants for a skipper's berth may be gleaned from the fact + that any man discharged from a Blue Star ship stood as much chance of + obtaining a berth with one of Cappy Ricks' competitors as a celluloid dog + chasing an asbestos cat through Hades. + </p> + <p> + The reader will readily appreciate, therefore, the apprehensions which + assailed Cappy Ricks when the Blue Star Navigation Company discovered it + had on its payroll one Matthew Peasley, a Nobody from Nowhere, who not + only had the insufferable impudence to apply for a job skippering the + finest windjammer in the fleet, but when rebuffed in no uncertain terms, + refused to withdraw his application, and defied his owners to fire him. + Such a preposterous state of affairs borders so closely on the realm of + fancy as to require explanation; hence, for the nonce let us leave Cappy + Ricks and Mr. Skinner to their sordid task of squeezing dividends out of + the Blue Star Navigation Company and turn the searchlight of inquiry upon + the amazing Matthew. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE MAN FROM BLUE WATER + </h2> + <p> + If, instead of advancing the theory that man sprang from a monkey, Darwin + had elected to nominate the duck for that dubious honor, there is no doubt + but that he would have pointed to the Peasley family, of Thomaston, Maine, + as evidence of the correctness of his theory of evolution. The most casual + student of natural history knows that the instant a duckling chips its + shell it toddles straightway to the nearest water. The instant a male + Peasley could cut his mother's apron strings, he, also, made for the + nearest water, for the Peasleys had always been sailors, a statement which + a perusal of the tombstones in Thomaston cemetery will amply justify. + Indeed, a Peasley who had not acquired his master's ticket prior to his + twenty-fifth birthday was one of two things—a disgrace to the family + or a corpse. Consequently, since the traditions of his tribe were very + strong in Matthew Peasley VI, it occasioned no comment in Thomaston when, + having acquired a grammar school education, he answered the call of his + destiny and fared forth to blue water and his first taste of dog's body + and salt horse. + </p> + <p> + When he was fourteen years old and very large for his age, Matt commenced + his apprenticeship in a codfisher on the Grand Banks, which, when all is + said and done, constitutes the finest training school in the world for + sailors. By the time he was seventeen he had made one voyage to Rio de + Janeiro in a big square-rigger out of Portland; and so smart and capable + an A.B. was he for his years that the Old Man took a shine to him. + Confidentially he informed young Matt that if the latter would stay by the + ship, in due course a billet as third mate should be the reward of his + fealty. The Old Man didn't need a third mate any more than he needed a + tail, but Matt Peasley looked like a comer to him and he wanted an excuse + to encourage the boy by berthing him aft; also it sounds far better to be + known as a third mate instead of a mate's bosun, which was, in reality, + the position the Old Man had promised Matt. The latter promptly agreed to + this program and the skipper loaned him his copy of Bowditch. + </p> + <p> + Upon his return from his first voyage as third mate Matt went up for his + second mate's certificate and passed very handily. Naturally he expected + prompt promotion, but the Old Man knew the value of experience in a second + mate—also the value of years and physical weight; so he informed + young Matt he was entirely too precocious and that to sail as second mate + before he was nineteen might tend to swell his ego. Consequently Matt made + a voyage to Liverpool and back as third mate before the Old Man promoted + him. + </p> + <p> + For a year, Matt Peasley did nicely; then, in a gale off the Orinoco + River, with the captain too ill to appear on deck, the first mate went by + the board, leaving the command of the ship to young Matt. She was + dismasted at the time, but the lad brought her into Rio on the stumps, + thus attracting some little attention to himself from his owners, who paid + his passage back to Portland by steamer and found a second mate's berth + for him in one of their clipper ships bound round the Horn. + </p> + <p> + Of course Matt was too young to know they had their eyes on him for future + skipper material and were sending him around Cape Horn for the invaluable + experience he would encounter on such a voyage. All he realized was that + he was going round the Horn, as became one of the House of Peasley, no + member of which would ever regard him as a real sailor until he could + point to a Cape Horn diploma as evidence that he had graduated from the + school for amateurs. + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley lacked two months of his twentieth birthday when he stepped + onto a San Francisco dock, in his pocket a highly complimentary discharge + as second mate from the master of the clipper ship—for Matt had + elected to quit. In fact, he had to, for on the way round the mate had + picked on him and called him Sonny and Mother's Darling Boy; and Matt, + having, in the terminology of the forecastle, come aboard through the + hawse pipes, knew himself for a man and a sailor, despite the paucity of + whiskers on his big, square boyish chin. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly he had advised the mate to address him only in the line of + duty, on which occasions he desired to be referred to as Mr. Peasley, and, + the mate demurring from this program, the customary maritime fracas had + ensued. Consequently, somebody had to quit on arrival at San Francisco; + and since, Matt was the last to come, he was the first to go. On the + strength of his two previous discharges he shipped as second mate on the + bark Andrew Welch, for a voyage to Honolulu and back; then, his services + as second mate being all in, he went before the inspectors for his first + mate's ticket and was awarded an unlimited license. + </p> + <p> + Matt was now past twenty; and, though not fully filled out, he was big + enough to be a chief kicker anywhere. Six feet three in his bare feet; two + hundred pounds in the buff; lean, lithe and supple as a panther, the mere + sight of his big lumpy shoulders would have been sufficient to have + quelled an incipient mutiny. Nevertheless, graduate that he was of a hard, + hard school, his face was that of an innocent, trusting, good-natured, + immature boy, proclaiming him exactly what he knew his men called him—a + big, over-grown kid. He hated himself for his glorious youth. + </p> + <p> + “You're pretty much of a child to have an unlimited ticket, my son,” the + supervising inspector informed him. “However, you've had the experience + and your record is far above the average, so we're going to issue the + license; but if you'll take a bit of advice from an old sailor you'll be + content to go as second mate for a year or two more, until your jowls + blacken up a bit and you get a trifle thicker in the middle.” + </p> + <p> + With the impudence and irreverence of his tender years, however, Matt + Peasley scorned this well-meant advice, notwithstanding the fact that he + knew it to be sound, for by shipping as second mate and remaining in the + same ship, sooner or later his chance would come. The first mate would + quit, or be promoted or drowned, or get drunk; and then his shoes would be + waiting for Matt tried and true, and the holder of a first mate's ticket. + </p> + <p> + However, there is an old saw to the effect that youth must be served, and + young Matt desired a helping totally disproportionate to his years, if not + to his experience; hence he elected to ignore the fact that shipmasters + are wary of chief mates until they have first tried them out as second + mates and learned their strength and their weaknesses. Being very human, + Matt thought he should prove the exception to a fairly hard-and-fast rule. + </p> + <p> + He had slept one night on a covered dock and skipped three meals before it + occurred to him that he had pursued the wrong tactics. He was too far from + Thomaston, Maine, where the majority of sailors have gone to school with + their captains. Back home there were a dozen masters who knew his people, + who knew him and his proved ability; but out here on the Pacific Coast the + skippers were nearly all Scandinavians, and Matt had to show them + something besides his documents. + </p> + <p> + He had failed signally to procure a single opportunity to demonstrate his + fitness for an executive position. After abandoning his plan to ship as + chief mate he had sought a second mate's berth, but failing to find one, + and with each idle day making deeper inroads into his scant savings, he + had at length descended to the ignominy of considering a job as bosun. + Even that was not forthcoming, and now his money was entirely dissipated. + </p> + <p> + Now, when a big overgrown kid finds himself penniless three thousand miles + from a friend and minus three meals in succession, the fourth omission of + the daily bread is not likely to pass without violent protest. Matt was + still a growing boy, with a growing boy's appetite; consequently on the + morning of his second day of fasting he came to the conclusion that, with + so much of his life before him, a few months wasted would, after all, have + no material bearing on his future; so he accepted a two months advance + from a crimp and shipped aboard the American barkentine Retriever as a + common A.B.—a most disgraceful action on the part of a boy, who, + since eighteenth birthday, had been used to having old sailors touch their + foretop to him and address him as “Mr. Peasley, sir.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. UNDER THE BLUE STAR FLAG + </h2> + <p> + Matt had been attracted to the barkentine Retriever for two very potent + reasons—the first was a delicious odor of stew emanating from her + galley; the second was her house flag, a single large, five-pointed blue + star on a field of white with scarlet trimming. Garnished left and right + with a golden wreath and below with the word Captain, Matt Peasley knew + that house flag, in miniature, would look exceedingly well on the front of + a uniform cap; for he now made up his mind to enter one service and stick + to it until his abilities should receive their inevitable reward. To ship + as a foremast hand and rise to captain would be a proud record; so Matt + throttled his pride and faced the future with confidence, and a stomach + quite filled with very good beef stew. + </p> + <p> + From the cook he learned that the Retriever carried a million feet of + lumber; that she was owned by Cappy Ricks; that Cappy Ricks was the + president of the Blue Star Navigation Company, and the most contemptible + old scoundrel in all the world; that the skipper was a blue-nose and a + devil and a fine man rolled into one; that the barkentine could sail like + a yacht; and that presently they would up-hook and off to Grays Harbor, + Washington, there to load a cargo of fir lumber for Cape Town. And would + Matt mind slipping ashore and buying the cook a bottle of whiskey, for + which the latter would settle very minute he could get an advance out of + the Old Man. No? Disgusted, the cook rattled his pans and dismissed Matt + as one unworthy of further confidence. + </p> + <p> + Just before the tug came alongside to snake her outside the Heads, the + mate came aboard with his lee rail pretty well under and was indiscreet + enough to toss a piece of his lip at the Old Man. Five minutes later he + was paid and off and kicked out on the dock, while the cook packed his sea + bag and tossed it overside after him. The captain, thereupon, bawled for + the second mate, who came running. Matt noticed this and decided that + should the Old Man ever bawl for him he would come running too. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Swenson, you have a chief mate's license, have you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. You're the first mate. Mr. Lindstrom”—turning to the + bosun—“you've waited a year for your chance, and here it is. You're + the second mate. Bosun!” He was looking straight at Matt Peasley as he + spoke. Matt did not stir. “Hey, there,” the skipper roared, “you big + mountain of meat, step lively!” + </p> + <p> + Matt stepped lively. + </p> + <p> + “I am not the bosun, sir,” he explained. “I'm just A.B.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you contradict me?” the Old Man growled. “I tell you, you don't + know what you are yet, barring the fact that you're an American, and the + only one, with the exception of myself, in the whole damned Scowegian + crew. Do you think you could get away with a bosun's job?” + </p> + <p> + “I could get away with your job if I had the chance, sir,” Matt declared, + almost impudently. + </p> + <p> + “There she blows!” the Old Man declared. “Bless me, if you're not a Native + Son! Nobody but a Native Son would be that fresh. I suppose this is your + second voyage, you puling baby?” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley's dander was up instantly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sailor enough to know my way alow or aloft in any weather, sir,” he + retorted. + </p> + <p> + The captain saw his opening and struck. + </p> + <p> + “What's the ring-tail?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “It's a studdin'-s'l on the gaff of a fore-an'-aft, sail, sir. You haven't + got one on the Retriever, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! You've been reading W. Clark Russell's sea yarns,” the skipper + charged. “He was quite a pen-an'-paper sailor when it came to + square-rigged ships, but he didn't have much to say about six-masted + schooners. You see, they didn't build them in his day. Now then, son, name + the sticks on a six-legged schooner, and be sure and name 'em right.” + </p> + <p> + “Fore, main, mizzen, spanker, jigger and driver, sir,” Matt fired back at + him. + </p> + <p> + “Bully for you, my son. You're the third mate. Cappy Ricks allows me the + luxury of a third mate whenever I run across a young fellow that appears + to be worth a whoop in hell, so grab your duds, and go aft, and don't + bring any cockroaches with you. I'll dig up a bosun among the + squareheads.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Name?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Peasley, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Since he was no longer an A B., young Matt concluded he might as well + accord himself the respect due him as a ship's officer; so he tacked on + the Mister, just to show the Old Man he knew his place. The master noted + that; also, the slurring of the sir as only a sailor can slur it. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder if you'd do,” he remarked as Matt passed him on his + way to the forecastle for his dunnage. + </p> + <p> + On his way back he carried his bag over his shoulder and his framed + license in his left hand. Two savages were following with his sea chest. + </p> + <p> + “I do declare!” the skipper cried. “If that lubberly boy hasn't got some + sort of a ticket! Let me see it, Mr. Peasley.” And he snatched it out of + his grasp. + </p> + <p> + “So, you're a first mate of sail, for any ocean and any tonnage, eh?” he + said presently. “Are you sure this ticket doesn't belong to your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” declared the exasperated Matt, “I never asked you for this job of + third mate; and if I've got to stomach your insults to hold it down I + don't want it. That's my ticket and I'm fully capable of living up to it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to hear that, Mr. Peasley, because if you're not I'll be the + first one to find it out—and don't you forget it! I'll have no + marine impostors aboard my ship. Where do they ship little boys before the + mast, Mr. Peasley?” + </p> + <p> + “On the Grand Banks, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said the skipper; “but really I thought you were a + Native Son. My father was drowned there thirty years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “The Peasleys have all died on the Banks sir,” Matt replied, much + mollified. + </p> + <p> + “We'll go down into my cabin and drink a toast to their memory, Mr. + Peasley. It isn't often we skippers out here meet one of our own.” + </p> + <p> + It is hard for a Down-Easter, even though he may have lost the speech of + his people, not to be, partial to his own; and Captain Noah Kendall, of + the barkentine Retriever, was all the cook had declared him to be. He + scolded his Norsk mates so bitterly while the vessel was taking on cargo + at Grays Harbor that both came and asked for their time an hour before the + vessel sailed. However, the old man was aware they would do this, for he + had handled that breed too long not to know that the Scandinavian sailor + on the Pacific Coast quits his job on the slightest pretext, but never + dreams of leaving until he knows that by so doing he can embarrass the + master or owners. Even if the mates had not quit, Kendall would have + discharged them, for it had been in his mind to try Matt Peasley out as + chief mate, and acquire a second mate with a sweeter disposition than that + possessed by the late incumbent. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had the Norsk mates departed than Captain Noah Kendall paid a + visit to Captain McBride in command of the schooner Nokomis (also a Blue + Star vessel), which had arrived that day and was waiting for the + Retriever's berth at the mill dock, in order to commence loading. + </p> + <p> + “Mac,” quoth Captain Noah, “what kind of a second mate have you got?” + </p> + <p> + “A no-good Irish hound named Murphy,” McBride replied promptly, for he had + heard rumors of war aboard the Retriever and something told him Kendall + had come to borrow his second mate, in order that the Retriever might tow + out immediately. A canny, cunning lad was McBride, but for all his Scotch + blood he was no match for Captain Noah Kendall. + </p> + <p> + “I heard he wasn't worth two squirts of bilge water,” Captain Noah lied + glibly. “However, I'll take him off your hands and reimburse you for the + expense of bringing his successor down from Seattle or up from San + Francisco. My two mates have just asked to be paid off, and despite the + fact that they have signed articles, I've let them go. No use going to sea + with a pair of sulky mates, you know. Fortunately, I had a young + Down-Easter aboard and I've put him in as first mate—” + </p> + <p> + “Noah,” urged McBride. “I wouldn't advise you to take this man Murphy.” + </p> + <p> + “Beggars can't be choosers,” Captain Noah replied mournfully. “The tide + serves in half an hour and the tug is alongside the Retriever now. If I + have to wire to Seattle for a second mate I may not be able to get one—and + if I am forced to wire to San Francisco I may be stuck here a week. I've + shipped my crew and paid them all in advance, and if I don't get to sea in + an hour I'll lose every man Jack of them, and have it all to do over + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll speak to the fellow for you, Noah,” McBride suggested, and + darted out of the cabin to interview the said Murphy. Two minutes later he + was back. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, Noah, but Murphy says he wouldn't sign up for a trip to Cape Town + at chief mate's wages.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, too, Mac,” Captain Noah answered resignedly. “I'm sorry you're + such a liar. My grief is only compensated by the knowledge that Murphy is + not aboard the Nokomis at this minute, and, if you did any talking while + you were out on deck a minute ago you must have talked to yourself. Do I + get this man, Murphy and thus save the Blue Star Navigation Company five + hundred dollars or must I wire Cappy Ricks to wire you to do your duty by + the company?” + </p> + <p> + “You infernal thief,” shouted McBride, “you're taking the best second mate + I've had in years.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that. Do I get Mike Murphy peaceably or—” + </p> + <p> + “You've got him already” McBride charged. + </p> + <p> + “You're better at telling the truth than you are at lying, Angus McBride. + You'll have plenty of time to get a second mate while the Nokomis is + loading, and you can send the bill for his railroad fare to Cappy Ricks + and tell him to charge it to the Retriever.” + </p> + <p> + McBride tried to appear aggrieved, but failed. He burst out laughing, and + reached for the locker in which he kept the schooner's supply of grog. + </p> + <p> + “Would it was prussic acid,” he growled. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say I went behind your back and stole your mate,” Kendall retorted. + “And if your second mate is as poor as your whiskey,” he added, piling + insult on to injury, “you can have him back when I return from Cape Town.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley felt that he was going to like Michael J. Murphy. The latter + was Irish, but he had left Ireland at a very tender age and was, to all + intents and purposes, a breezy American citizen, and while he wore a + slight cauliflower in one ear, his broad, kindly humorous face and alert, + bustling manner was assurance that he would be an easy man to get along + with. When the Old Man introduced him to Matt, he extended a horny right + hand that closed on Matt's like the jaws of a dredger, the while he ran an + equally horny left hand up and down the chief mate's arm. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure we'll get along famously together, Mr. Murphy,” Matt suggested. + </p> + <p> + Again Mr. Murphy ran his hand over that great arm. + </p> + <p> + “You know it!” he declared with conviction. + </p> + <p> + Captain Noah laughed aloud, and as Matt scampered forward over the + deckload, herding his savages before him, to receive the tug's breast line + and make it fast on the bitts the skipper turned to Mr. Murphy. + </p> + <p> + “There's a lad for you,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “He has manners and muscle, and those are two things that seldom go + together,” Mr. Murphy rejoined. “He's Down-Easter, I see. Did Cappy Ricks + send him to you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No—not that he wouldn't, however, if he'd ever met the boy. The + crimp brought him aboard with the sweepings and scrapings of San + Francisco.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope he wasn't drunk—like the rest,” Mr. Murphy answered + anxiously. “'Twould be a sin to desecrate that lovely body with whiskey.” + </p> + <p> + “He was bung up and bilge free—and that's why he's chief kicker now. + The hawser's fast for'd, Mr. Murphy. Cast off your stern line.” + </p> + <p> + “All clear for'd, sir,” Matt Peasley's shout came ranging down the wind, + and the tug snatched the big barkentine out from the mill dock into the + stream where she cast her off, put her big towing hawser aboard, paid it + out and started for Grays Harbor bar. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. BAD NEWS FROM CAPE TOWN + </h2> + <p> + On a certain day in February Mr. Skinner, coming into Cappy Ricks' office + with a cablegram in his hand, found his employer doubled up at his desk + and laughing in senile glee. + </p> + <p> + “I have a cablegram—” Mr. Skinner began. + </p> + <p> + “I have a good story,” Cappy interrupted. “Let me tell it to you, Skinner. + Oh, dear! I believe this is about going to kill the boys up on 'Change + when I tell them.” He wiped his eyes, controlled his mirth and turned to + the general manager. “Skinner,” he said, “did you know I had gotten back + into the harness while you were up at the Astoria mill? Well I did, + Skinner. I had to, you know. If it was the last act of my life I had to + square accounts with that man Hudner, of the Black Butte Lumber Company.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner nodded. He was aware of the feud that existed between Cappy + and Hudner, and the reasons therefor. The latter had stolen from Cappy a + stenographer, who had grown to spinsterhood in his employ—one of + those rare stenographers who do half a man's thinking for him. Cappy + always paid a little more than the top of the market for clever service; + and whenever, a competitor stole one of his favorite employees, sooner or + later that competitor paid for his sins, “through the nose.” + </p> + <p> + “While you were away,” Cappy went on, “I met Hudner a luncheon. 'Hudner,' + I said, 'It's been my experience that nobody gets anything good in this + world without paying for it—and you stole the finest stenographer I + ever had. So I'm going to make you pay for her. See if I don't.' Well, + sir, Skinner, he laughed at me and told me to go as far as I liked; and, a + number of my youthful friends being present, they each bet Hudner a + five-dollar hat I'd hang his hide on my fence within sixty days. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Skinner, you know me. Any time it's raining duck soup you'll never + catch me out with a fork; and, of course, when the boys showed such faith + in my ability to trim Hudner I had to make good. I have a letter from + Hudner to prove it; and to-day at luncheon, when we're all gathered at the + Round Table, I'm going to read that letter and my reply to the same; and + Hudner will have fifty dollars' worth of hat bills to pay!” + </p> + <p> + “How did you tan his pelt?” Skinner queried. + </p> + <p> + “Easy! While you were away I chartered his steamer Chehalis for a load of + redwood lumber from Humboldt Bay to San Francisco at three dollars and a + half a thousand feet. Of course, you know a boat like the Chehalis, with a + big pay-roll, will break just even on such a low freight rate; but + inasmuch as he was going to lay the Chehalis up in Oakland Creek, owing to + lack of business, when I offered him a load of redwood he concluded to + take it, just to keep the vessel moving and pay expenses. I stipulated + discharge in San Francisco Bay. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, when the Chehalis got to our mill, Skinner, I ordered them to + load her with sinkers—oh! oh, this will be the death of me yet, + Skinner. And we gave her poor dispatch in loading. Then she had to lay + behind the bar two days longer before she could cross out; and when she + got here I ordered her to discharge into the British bark Glengarry—and + discharging from one vessel in to another is the slowest work in the + world. And Hudner—he's—written—me, Skinner, declaring + he'll never charter a boat to me again; says the Chehalis lost two + thousand dollars on the voyage.” And Cappy went off into a gale of + laughter, and handed Skinner the letter to read. + </p> + <p> + For the benefit of the reader, who may desire a closer insight into + Cappy's Machiavellian nature, be it known that a sinker is a heavy, + close-grained clear redwood butt-log, which, if cut in the spring, when + the tree is alive with sap, is so heavy it will not float in the millpond; + hence the term sinker. A vessel laden with lumber sawed from sinkers, + therefore, will carry just fifty per cent. of her customary cargo; and + unless the freight rate be extremely high, she cannot make money. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Skinner,” Cappy announced presently, “I think you'd better + hunt up a steady job for me! Dadding it, boy, I never knew there was so + much fun in business until I had practically retired! Really, Skinner, I + must take more interest in my affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Here's something to sharpen your teeth on, Mr. Ricks,” the general + manager replied, and presented the cablegram he had been holding for five + minutes. + </p> + <p> + Cappy took it and read, thereby becoming aware for the first time, that he + had in his employ an individual by the name of Matthew Peasley. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Cape Town, February 15, —. + + Bluestar, San Francisco: + + Captain knifed Kru boy argument boat fare. Instruct consignees + honor my drafts as captain. + + Matthew Peasley, Mate. +</pre> + <p> + “The murdering black hound!” Cappy murmured in an awed voice. “If he + hasn't gone and killed the best skipper I ever had! Poor Kendall! Why, + Noah and I were good friends, Skinner. Every time the Retriever touched in + at her home port I always had Noah Kendall up to the house for dinner, and + we went to the theatre together afterward. Thank God! It isn't a week + since his life insurance premium fell due and I had the cashier pay it.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy sat gazing dejectedly at the carpet. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Cap'n Noah!” he soliloquized aloud. “Twenty-five years you + sailed under the Blue Star, and in all that time there was never once when + I had to jack up and tell you to 'tend to business. And, Noah, you could + make a suit of sails last longer than any man I ever knew; but you did + have a hell of a temper.” And having delivered this touching eulogy on the + late Captain Kendall, Cappy roused himself and faced Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “I should say I have a job on my hands,” he announced, “with the finest + sailing ship in the fleet down in South Africa without a skipper! Skinner, + I'll tell you what you do, my boy: You dictate the nicest letter you know + how to dictate to Noah's widow, up in Port Townsend. Tell her how much we + thought of Noah and extend our sympathy, and a check for his next three + months' salary. Put her on my private pension list, Skinner, and send her + Cap'n Noah's salary every quarter-day as long as she lives. Tell her we'll + attend to the collection of the life insurance and will bring Noah's body + home to Port Townsend at our own expense. It's the least we can do, + Skinner. He was the only skipper I ever had who did not, at one time or + another, manage to embroil me in a lawsuit. Who are our consignees at Cape + Town?” + </p> + <p> + “The Harlow & Benton Company, Limited.” + </p> + <p> + “Cable them for confirmation of the mate's message, and request them to + have Cap'n Noah's body embalmed and shipped to Port Townsend, Washington, + prepaid, deducting charges from our invoice.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. MATT PEASLEY ASSUMES OFFICE + </h2> + <p> + The death of Captain Noah Kendall, while profoundly deplored by his next + in command, first mate Matthew Peasley, had not been permitted by that + brisk young man to interfere in the least with the task of getting the + cargo out of the Retriever, for sailoring, like soldiering, is a + profession in which sentiment is a secondary consideration. Each day of + demurrage to a ship like the Retriever, even at the prevailing low freight + rate, meant a loss of at least a hundred dollars to the owners, and since + navigating a ship safely and expeditiously is the least of a good + skipper's duties, and since, further, Matt Peasley was determined to be a + skipper in the not very distant future, he concluded to give his owners + evidence of the fact that he was, in addition to being a navigator, also a + first-class “hustler.” If the Retriever made a loss on that voyage he was + resolved that no blame should attach to him. + </p> + <p> + “Skipper's dead, Mike,” he announced to Mr. Murphy, the second mate. + “Policeman in a small boat alongside says the old man got into a row with + the Kru boy that rowed him ashore and the black scoundrel skewered him. + I'm going ashore to look after his body and order a tug to kick us into + our berth. I guess the old man didn't get time to attend to the business + that brought him ashore, poor fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Sir,” Mr. Murphy replied, and murmured some commonplace + expression of regret. He was not particularly shocked for he had lost + shipmates in a hurry before now. + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley proceeded to the beach, attended to the necessary details + incident to the skipper's untimely removal, was informed by the Harlow + & Benton Company, Limited, of the location of the berth he was to + discharge, ordered a tug for that afternoon, went to the cable office, + registered his cable address, sent a cablegram to the owners and returned + to the ship. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mike,” he announced to the second mate, “I guess I'm the skipper; + following the same line of deduction, I guess you're the chief mate, so + I'll move my dunnage into the old man's cabin and you move into mine. I'll + pick up a second mate in Cape Town before we leave.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy eyed his youthful superior with mild curiosity, not untempered + with amusement. “Thank you for the promotion, Captain Matt,” he replied. + “However, if you'll excuse my apparent impudence on the grounds that I'm + about fifteen years older than you and have been longer in the Blue Star + employ, I'd like to make a suggestion.” + </p> + <p> + “Fire away, Mike.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy hitched his belt, walked to the rail, spat tobacco juice from + between his fingers and came back. “You're the youngest chief mate I've + ever seen, and this is your first berth in that capacity,” he began. + “Suppose you hang on to it and don't be so infernally generous.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have a first mate's license, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. But—” + </p> + <p> + “No ifs or buts, Mike. The skipper's dead; I was first mate; consequently + I take command of the ship, and by virtue of my authority I appoint you + first mate. That goes. You'll do one of two things, Mike. You'll be first + mate or get out of the ship.” + </p> + <p> + Michael J. Murphy grinned. “You mean that?” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally.” + </p> + <p> + “If you stick by that determination you'll find yourself on the beach in + Cape Town, unless you conclude to take my recently vacated berth as second + mate. And I'd hate like the devil to have you do that. There's neither + sense nor profit for you in swapping jobs with me.” + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you I'm going to be skipper.” + </p> + <p> + “I know—until old Cappy Ricks sends down a relief captain. If you + promote me now, the relief captain may conclude to retain me as first mate + and then you'd have to take my job or quit the ship; and of course I + wouldn't care to have that happen. I'd have to quit the ship, too. I + wouldn't care to do that. I've made up my mind to sail under the Blue Star + flag for the rest of my natural life and I'd hate to have to change my + mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I've made up my mind to the same thing, Mike, and I know I'm not going to + change my mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Matt, you stick in your first mate's berth and I'll be + satisfied with my second mate's berth.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you'll say next that the relief skipper will be happy in poor + old Captain Noah's berth, eh?” Matt interrupted. He grinned at Mr. Murphy. + </p> + <p> + “Mike, listen to me. There isn't going to be any relief skipper. You're + going back to Hoquiam, Grays Harbor, Washington, U. S. A., as chief kicker + of the barkentine Retriever, and you're going to take orders from me all + the way. In fact, you might as well begin right now. Take your duds and + move into my cabin.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” Mr. Murphy pleaded earnestly, “you don't know Cappy Ricks, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I'll get acquainted with him in due course. Don't let that worry + you Mike.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I won't. But what does worry me is the fact that Cappy Ricks + doesn't know you. + </p> + <p> + “Does he know you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by proxy. I've heard a lot about him, and that's why I'm in his + employ and resolved to stay there. If a man sails under the Blue Star flag + long enough and behaves himself and displays a little human intelligence + from time to time sooner or later he gets his chance. Cappy Ricks does all + the hiring and firing for the fleet, and whenever he has a good job to + fill, he never goes outside his own employ to fill it. He always promotes + the deserving. You cabled him, of course, that Captain Kendall has been + killed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did. And I cabled him also to cable me authority to draw drafts, + as skipper, in order to disburse the vessel.” + </p> + <p> + “Just like a kid! Just like a kid!” Mr. Murphy groaned. “That finishes + you, Matt. Cappy'll think you're fresh and you'll be ten years proving to + him you are not.” + </p> + <p> + “It proves I'm on the job,” Matt protested doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “No matter, Matt. Cappy Ricks will go over the list of his skippers due + for promotion into a larger ship and more pay, and right away he'll start + Captain Noah's successor for Cape Town to bring the ship home.” + </p> + <p> + “If he does, Mike, he's crazy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's crazy enough, Matt, like a fox—so blamed crazy he will not + consider handing over this Retriever to an untried and unknown man who has + been in his employ for less than a voyage. Why, I wouldn't myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you think he'll hand her over to you?” Matt asked, with the + suspicion and impetuosity of youth. + </p> + <p> + “Boy,” said Mr. Murphy patiently, “you're getting into deep water close to + the shore. Starboard your helm and put her on the other tack. If he gives + her to me—which he will not—I'll take her. I've been three + years in his employ. I'm capable—” + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” Matt interrupted. “I like you fine, but I want to tell you that if + Cappy Ricks cabled you to take charge, I wouldn't let you. I'm next in + command, and it's only etiquette that I should have my chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” Mr. Murphy murmured sententiously, “there'd be a fight with skin + gloves and I'm afraid you'd get licked, son. I wasted a good many years in + the navy, Matt, and there I learned two things—how to obey and how + to fight with my fists. I was the champion amateur light-heavy-weight of + the Atlantic fleet, and every once in a while something happens to prove + to me that I'm far from being a slouch even at this late date.” + </p> + <p> + “No offense, Mike. We're crossing our bridges before we come to them, and + besides, I didn't intend to be offensive.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand. Our conversation was entirely academic,” Murphy admitted + graciously. + </p> + <p> + “You said you learned to obey in the navy,” Matt suggested. “What's the + matter with obeying my last order?” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Matt. I'll obey. But remember, I have given you fair warning. + If I move into your cabin to-day, I'll not move out when the relief + skipper comes.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take a chance,” said Matt Peasley. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. WORDY WAR AT A DOLLAR A WORD + </h2> + <p> + While the capable Mr. Skinner was preparing the reply to Matt Peasley's + cablegram, and dictating for Cappy Ricks' signature a letter to Noah + Kendall's widow, Cappy was busy at the telephone. First he retailed the + news to the Merchants' Exchange, to be bulletined on the blackboard and + read by Captain Noah's friends; next he called up the secretary of the + American Shipmasters' Association, of which the deceased had been a + member, and lastly he communicated the sad tidings to the water-front + reporters of all the daily papers. This detail attended to, Cappy's active + mind returned to more practical and profitable affairs, and he took up + Matt Peasley's cablegram. He was deep in a study of it when Mr. Skinner + entered with the letter to Mrs. Kendall. + </p> + <p> + “'Captain knifed, killed, Kru boy argument boat fare,'” Cappy read aloud. + “Skinner, my dear boy, what is the cable rate per word to Cape Town?” + </p> + <p> + “Ninety-eight cents per word,” replied Mr. Skinner, who had just looked it + up. + </p> + <p> + “We will if you please, Skinner, confine ourselves to round numbers. There + is such a thing as being too exact. Call it a dollar. Figuring on that + basis, I see this garrulous mate has squandered five dollars of our money + to no purpose—yes, by jingo, more than that. He might have used the + code book! Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harump-h-h-h! Skinner, this fellow will not do. + He is too windy. Skinner, he tells the story in eight words, and forgets + to use his code book. Give me a skipper, Skinner, my boy, who always has + his owner's interest at heart and displays a commendable discretion in + limiting the depredations practiced by the cable company. For instance, + the man Peasley might have omitted the word knifed; also the explanatory + words, argument boat fare, and the word mate. Though regretting Noah's + demise most keenly, as business men we are not cable-gramically interested + in the means employed to accomplish his removal. Neither do the causes + leading up to the tragedy interest us. The man Peasley should merely have + said “Captain murdered.” Also, he might have trusted to us to realize that + when the captain dies the first mate takes charge. He need not have + identified himself—the infernal chatter-box!” + </p> + <p> + Cappy read the next sentence. “Instruct consignees honor my drafts as + captain.” + </p> + <p> + “H'm! Harum-ph! He might have said 'please,' Skinner! Sounds devilishly + like an order, the way he puts it. Though he is temporarily in command I + challenge his right to handle our money until I know more about him. + Harum-ph! Reading between the lines, Skinner, I see he says: 'If you send + a skipper to Cape Town to bring the Retriever home while I'm on the job, + you're crazy.' Look over the vouchers in Cap'n Noah's last report and let + us ascertain how long this forceful mate has been in our employ.” + </p> + <p> + Now, the ordinary form of receipt to which a seaman puts his signature + when signing clear bears upon its reverse side a series of blank spaces, + which the captain must fill in. These blanks provide for mention of the + date of signing on, date of discharge, station held on vessel and remarks. + On none of the vouchers of the Retriever's last voyage, however, did the + name of Matthew Peasley appear. + </p> + <p> + “Must have shipped in San Francisco just before the vessel sailed for her + loading port,” Cappy announced. “Send in a boy.” + </p> + <p> + One of Cappy's young men was summoned. + </p> + <p> + “Son,” said Cappy, “you run down, like a good boy, to the office of the + Deputy United States Shipping Commissioner and tell him Mr. Ricks would + like to see the duplicate copy of the crew list of the barkentine + Retriever.” + </p> + <p> + When an American vessel clears for a foreign port the law required that + her crew shall be signed on before a Deputy United States Shipping + Commissioner, who furnishes a certified copy of the crew list to the + captain and retains a duplicate for his own files. + </p> + <p> + The Blue Star youth returned presently with his duplicate list, on + consulting which, to his unspeakable amazement, Cappy Ricks discovered + that Matthew Peasley had shipped aboard the Retriever as an able seaman, + and that the first mate was one William Olson—which goes to prove + that in the heat of passion a skipper will often discharge a mate on the + eve of sailing for a foreign port and forget to tell the Deputy Shipping + Commissioner anything about it. + </p> + <p> + “Remarkable,” Cappy declared. “Ree-markable!” + </p> + <p> + “Dirty work here,” Mr. Skinner announced. “Captain dead and a common A.B. + cabling us for authority to draw drafts as captain, while posing as first + mate. Nigger in the woodpile somewhere, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll smoke him out in five minutes, Skinner. Ring up the local inspectors + and inquire if, by any chance, they have ever issued a captain's license + to one Matthew Peasley.” + </p> + <p> + Skinner obeyed. After a brief wait he was informed that the said Peasley + had an unlimited license as first mate of sail, and was entitled to act as + second mate of steam vessels up to five hundred tons net register. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing doing!” Cappy piped. “Skinner, when a mate with an unlimited + license ships before the mast, THERE'S A REASON!” + </p> + <p> + “Drunkard!” Mr. Skinner suggested without an instant's hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Eggs-actly, Skinner. Good seaman, I daresay, but worthless and unreliable + in an executive capacity, and I can't trust a ripping fine barkentine like + the Retriever with that kind of man. I suppose he feels the hankering for + a spree coming on right now. Skinner, if we gave the man Peasley + permission to draw drafts he'd paint Cape Town red. I feel it in my + bones.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What vessels have we in port at this moment, Skinner?” + </p> + <p> + “McBride is discharging the Nokomis at Oakland Long Wharf.” + </p> + <p> + “The ideal man.” Cappy smote his desk. “I've been wanting to promote Mac + into a larger vessel and pay him twenty-five dollars a month more for the + past two years. He's too good for a little hooker like the Nokomis, and + he's got a steady-going Norwegian mate that's been with him in the Nokomis + for three years. Time to take care of that mate. Skinner, I have an idea. + See that it is carried through. McBride's mate shall buy out Mac's + interest in the Nokomis. If he hasn't the money, tell him I'll lend it to + him, secured by the insurance, provided he and McBride can come to terms. + See that they do. Tell Mac he's to have the Retriever, and I'll arrange to + get Cap'n Noah's interest for him from the estate at a fair figure. Give + him expense money and his credentials and tell him to start for Cape Town + tomorrow night; and cable the man Peasley to retain charge of the vessel + at captain's pay until McBride arrives to relieve him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner retired to his office and got down his code book. The general + manager knew what he desired to say and hoped he might find something in + the code book to help him say it at cut rates, but despairing after a + diligent search he finally evolved and dispatched this cablegram to Matt + Peasley, addressing it to the cable address of the Retriever. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, Feb. 16th, 19—. + + Rickstar, + Cape Town. + + Peasley, your meager maritime experience renders prohibitive + compliance request. Retain charge master's pay pending arrival + successor. + + Bluestar. +</pre> + <p> + Having dispatched his message to Matt Peasley, Mr. Skinner, as he thought, + had dismissed Peasley from his thoughts forever. It would appear, however, + that in this particular the general manager was counting Mother Carey s + chickens before they were hatched. He little suspected, in his desire to + be fair, even at considerable expense, to inform Matt Peasley just why the + Blue Star Navigation Company couldn't possibly hand over its fine + barkentine to a stranger, that he had only reopened the controversy; that + his unfortunate reference to “meager maritime experience” had flicked Matt + Peasley on a raw spot and been provocative of this reply, received the + same day: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Cape Town, Feb. 16, 19—. + + Bluestar, + San Francisco. + + Skipper dying sea foreign port unwritten maritime law + stipulates mate succeeds. Yankee can sail anything afloat. + This my chance. Grant it or insure successor's life. Will + throw him overboard on arrival. + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Skinner promptly carried this defi to Cappy Ricks. + </p> + <p> + “He's a sea-lawyer,” Cappy piped angrily. “The scoundrel! The + un-mi-ti-ga-ted—scoundrel! Cable him instantly, Skinner, that if he + spends another cent of our money in unnecessary cablegrams I'll fire him.” + He snapped his fingers. “Attend to it, Skinner, attend to it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner attended to it, and the following morning he found this reply + on his desk when he came down to work: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Cape Town, Feb. 17, 19—. + + Bluestar, + San Francisco. + + Holler when you're hit. Paid for it myself. Am I to bring + Retriever home? + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + “I dare say the fellow did,” Mr. Skinner informed Cappy. “He has four + months' wages coming to him at sixty dollars a month—and if he + didn't, why, I'll instruct McBride to deduct the cable charges from his + wages when he pays him off.” + </p> + <p> + “I think your reference to his meager maritime experience annoyed him, + Skinner,” Cappy suggested thoughtfully. “It may be that he is a most + excellent sailor. At least, he spends his money like one.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy had no further comment to make, and the reply to this impudent + communication was accordingly left to Mr. Skinner, who cabled: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, Feb. 17th, 19—. + + Rickstar, + Cape Town. + + No! + + Bluestar. +</pre> + <p> + “I think that will settle the upstart,” Mr. Skinner declared confidently + as he rang for a messenger boy. + </p> + <p> + It did not. Four hours later he received this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Cape Town, Feb. 17, 19—. + + Bluestar, + San Francisco. + + Why? + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + Now it was a custom of Mr. Skinner's, when a subordinate laid claim to an + inalienable right which the general manager was not willing to concede, to + regard with very grave suspicion that subordinate's loyalty to the + company. If the subordinate protested Mr. Skinner would warn him, kindly, + quietly, but none the less forcefully; and if he persisted Mr. Skinner + would dispense with the services of that subordinate so fast the offender, + nine times out of ten, would be left standing in a sort of fog and + blinking at the suddenness with which the metaphorical can had, + metaphorically speaking, been tied to his caudal appendage. Every large + business office has its Skinner—a queer combination of decency, + honesty, brains and brutality, a worshiper at the shrine of Mammon in the + temple of the great god Business, a reactionary Republican, treasurer of + his church and eventually a total loss from diabetes, brought on by lack + of exercise and worry over trifles. + </p> + <p> + However, to return to our particular Mr. Skinner and Matt Peasley, the + rebellious. In all justice to Skinner it must be admitted that his first + impulse with reference to Matt Peasley was eminently fair. He really + desired to convey to this persistent person an intimation to the effect + that the latter was, colloquially speaking, monkeying with the buzz-saw + and in imminent danger of having his head lopped off; and he would have + given it, too, provided the delivery of the ultimatum should not have cost + the Blue Star Navigation Company ninety-eight cents a word, including the + address. Consequently, Skinner, always efficient and realizing that + McBride would doubtless be enabled to pick up another mate in Cape Town, + or in a pinch, could dispense with a first mate altogether, made answer to + Matt Peasley as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, Feb. 17th, 19—. + + Rickstar, + Cape Town. + + Peasley, you are hereby discharged. Turn over command second + mate, call consignees your wages immediately. + + Bluestar. +</pre> + <p> + Having dispatched this cablegram and ended it all, as it were, Mr. Skinner + next cast his cold gray glance adown the duplicate crew list borrowed from + the deputy shipping commissioner, and discovered that the second mate + shipped at San Francisco was one Christian Swenson. + </p> + <p> + “I do hope he's not a drinking man,” Skinner sighed. “The Retriever is + quite a responsibility to entrust to a man we have never seen or heard of + before, but the man Swenson can scarcely be as vicious and insubordinate + as this fellow Peasley, and under the circumstances we'll have to run the + risk.” + </p> + <p> + And having wotted the which, Mr. Skinner cabled Christian Swenson to take + charge of the Retriever, at master's wages, until the arrival of his + successor. Next he cabled The Harlow and Benton Company, Limited, + requesting them to pay off Matt Peasley and, if necessary, invoke the + authorities to remove him from the vessel. + </p> + <p> + “That fellow is a tough one to handle,” he remarked to Cappy Ricks, to + whom he showed all the cablegrams, “but I guess this will about cut off + his wind.” + </p> + <p> + “A sea lawyer is the curse of the Seven Seas!” Cappy declared waspishly. + He was very bitter against Matt Peasley, whom he now regarded as an ally + of the piratical cable company. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. CAPPY RICKS MAKES BAD MEDICINE + </h2> + <p> + That afternoon Mr. Skinner herded Captain McBride of the Nokomis and his + Norwegian mate into Cappy Ricks' office. Cappy brought them to terms very + promptly, and the captain started for New York on the Overland the same + night. From New York he was to take passage to Liverpool, thence via the + A. D. line to Cape Town. Cappy almost had a bloody sweat when he reflected + on the expense for provisions and wages for the crew during the weeks of + idleness while McBride was on the way to join the Retriever. Both he and + Mr. Skinner had decided that nothing could be gained by informing McBride, + who was a little, mild-mannered gentleman with gold eyeglasses, of the + potential ducking that awaited him at the hands of Matt Peasley; for just + before McBride said good-bye and started for the train Cappy and Mr. + Skinner discovered that their apple cart again had been upset. The + following cablegram received from Matt Peasley knocked into a cocked hat + all their high hopes of ridding themselves of the incubus. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Cape Town, Feb. 17, 19—. + + Bluestar, + San Francisco. + + Swenson fired before leaving San Francisco. Second mate Murphy + declines take your orders, claiming me superior officer; I + decline also, claiming captain en route my superior officer. + Owner can fire captain but only captain can fire or disrate + ship's officers. Besides I shipped for the round trip. + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + “Well,” said Cappy, “what do you know about that? He clings to us like a + barnacle or a poor relation—and the worst of it is the damned sea + lawyer is absolutely right. We have no authority to fire him, Skinner. + Just think of a government that will permit such a ridiculous state of + affairs as that to exist! Think of it, Skinner! We hire the man Peasley + but we can't fire him—and in the meantime he'll roost in Cap'n + Noah's cabin and run up bills on us and consume our groceries and draw + master's pay until McBride arrives and discharges him.” + </p> + <p> + For geographical and financial reasons Cappy Ricks was barred from + quarreling with Matt Peasley. However, he was as cross as a setting hen + and just naturally had to vent his displeasure on somebody, and as he paid + Mr. Skinner a very large salary to be his general manager, he figured he + could afford to quarrel with Skinner. So he said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Skinner, if you hadn't butted in on the shipping end of the + business the man Peasley would not have been given this opening to swat + us. It's nuts for a sailor any time he can trip up a landsman, and + particularly his owners—” + </p> + <p> + “You O.K.'d the cablegrams, Mr. Ricks,” Skinner reminded him coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk back to me!” Cappy piped. “Not another peep out of you, sir! + Not another word of discussion about this matter under any circumstances! + I don't want to talk about it further—understand? It's driving me + insane. Now, then, Skinner, tell me: If the man Peasley should decline to + recognize McBride's authority, what course would you advise pursuing?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think he will be that arbitrary, Mr. Ricks. In the first place—” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, please do not argue with me. The man Peasley would do anything—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, in that event, McBride can call in the civil authorities of Cape + Town, to remove Peasley by force from the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, you'll drive me to drink! I ask you, has a British official any + authority over an American vessel lying in the roadstead? Will a foreign + official dare to set foot on an American deck when an American skipper + orders him not to do so?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not a sea lawyer,” Mr. Skinner retorted, “I do not know.” + </p> + <p> + “The Retriever will have discharged her cargo weeks before McBride + arrives. Then suppose Peasley takes a notion to warp his vessel outside + the three-mile limit. What authority has McBride got then?” + </p> + <p> + “I repeat, I am not a sea lawyer, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't equivocate with me, Skinner! Let's argue this question calmly, + coolly and deliberately. Don't lose your temper. Now then. Peasley said + he'd throw his successor overboard, didn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, merely a threat, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, you're a fine, wise manager! A threat, eh?” Cappy laughed—a + short, scornful laugh. “Huh! Threat! Joke!” + </p> + <p> + “You do not think it is a threat?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. It's a promise. McBride is a splendid little man and game to the + core; but no good, game little man will ever stay on a deck if a good, + game big man takes a notion to throw him overboard, and the man Peasley is + both big and game, otherwise he would not defy us. Why, Skinner, that + fellow wouldn't pause at anything. Hasn't he spent over a hundred dollars + arguing with us by cable? Why, he's a desperate character! Also, he would + not threaten to throw his successor overboard if he didn't know that he + was fully capable of so doing. Paste that in your hat, Skinner. It isn't + done.” Skinner inclined his head respectfully. Cappy continued: “What I + should have done was to have sent a good, game, big man—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and his glance met Skinner's wonderingly as a bright idea + leaped into his cunning brain and crystallized into definite purpose. He + sprang up, waved his skinny old arms, and kicked the waste-basket into a + corner of the room. + </p> + <p> + “I have it, Skinner! I've solved the problem. Go back and 'tend to your + lumber business and leave the man Peasley to me. I'll tan that fellow's + hide and hang it on my fence, just as sure as George Washington crossed + the Delaware River.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner, glad to be excused, promptly made his escape. When Cappy + Ricks stripped for action, Mr. Skinner knew from long experience that + there was going to be a fight or a foot race; that whenever the old + gentleman set out to confound an enemy, the inevitable result was wailing + and weeping and gnashing of teeth, in which doleful form of exercise Cappy + Ricks had never been known to participate. + </p> + <p> + “Send in a boy!” Cappy ordered as the general manager withdrew. + </p> + <p> + The boy appeared. “Sonny,” said Cappy Ricks, “do you know All Hands And + Feet?” The boy nodded and Cappy continued: “Well, you go down on the + Embarcadero, like a good boy, and cruise from Folsom Street to Broadway + Wharf Number Two until you find All Hands and Feet. Look in front of cigar + stands and in the shipchandlery stores; and if you don't find him in those + places run over to the assembly rooms of Harbor Fifteen, Masters' and + Pilots' Association, and see if he's there, playing checkers. When you + find him tell him Mr. Ricks wants to see him at once.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. ALL HANDS AND FEET TO THE RESCUE + </h2> + <p> + Captain Ole Peterson was known to the coastwise trade as All Hands And + Feet. He was a giant Swede whose feet resembled twin scow models and whose + clenched fists, properly smoked and cured, might have passed anywhere for + picnic hams. He was intelligent, competent and belligerent, with a broad + face, slightly dished and plentifully scarred, while his wide flat nose + had been stove in and shifted hard a-starboard. Cappy Ricks liked him, + respected his ability and found him amusing as one finds an educated bear + amusing. He had a reputation for being the undefeated rough and tumble + champion of Sweden and the United States. + </p> + <p> + “You ban vant to see me, sir?” he rumbled as, hat in hand, he stood beside + Cappy Ricks' desk half an hour later. Compared with the huge Swede, Cappy + looked like a watch charm. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, captain,” Cappy replied amiably. “I hear you're out of a job. + Why?” + </p> + <p> + Briefly All Hands And Feet explained what Cappy already knew; that his + last command, being old and rotten and over-loaded, had worked apart in a + seaway and fallen to pieces under him. The inspectors had held him + blameless. + </p> + <p> + “I have a job for you, Ole,” Cappy announced. “But there's a string + attached to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye ban able to pull strings, sir,” Ole reminded him. + </p> + <p> + Cappy smiled, and outlined to the Swede the conditions surrounding the + barkentine Retriever. “I'm going to give you command of the Retriever,” he + continued confidentially. “You are to bring her home from Cape Town, and + when you get back I'll have a staunch four-masted schooner waiting for + you. I was going to send McBride of the Nokomis on this job, but thought + better of it, for the reason that Mac may not be physically equipped to + perform the additional task I have in mind and I believe you are. + Peterson, if you want a steady job skippering for the Blue Star Navigation + Company you've got to earn it, and to earn it you've got to give this + fellow Peasley a good sound thrashing for the good of his immortal soul. + The very moment you step aboard the Retriever let him know you're the + master.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you tank he ban villin' to fight?” Ole demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Something tells me he will. However, in case he doesn't, don't let that + embarrass you. Man-handle him until he does. Let me impress upon you, + captain, the fact that I want the man Peasley summarily chastised for + impudence and insubordination.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir,” said Ole. “Aye ban work him over.” To be asked to fight + for a job was to this descendant of the Vikings the ne plus ultra of + sportsmanship. “Aye never ban licked yet,” he added reminiscently. + </p> + <p> + “When we cabled we were sending a man to relieve him,” Cappy complained, + “he replied, telling us to insure his successor's life, because he was + going to throw him overboard the minute he arrived.” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet swept away any lingering fears Cappy might chance to be + entertaining. “Aye ban weigh two hundret an' saxty pounds,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + “Which being the case,” Cappy warned him, “should he succeed in throwing + YOU overboard I should consider you unfit for a job in my employ.” (The + old fox had not the slightest idea such a contretemps was possible, but in + order to play safe he considered it good policy to hearten Ole for the + fray.) “Should he defeat you, captain, I have no hesitancy in saying to + you now that such a misfortune would have a most disastrous effect on your + future in my employ. You know me. When I order a job done, I want it done, + and I want it done well. Understand! I don't want you to maim or kill the + man, but just give him a good sound—er—commercial thrashing; + and after you've tamed him I want you to—” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet nodded his comprehension. + </p> + <p> + “An',” he interrupted, “after aye ban slap him once or twice aye ban give + good kick under de coattail an' fire dis fresh guy—eh?” he + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Fire nothing!” shrilled Cappy. “You follow instructions, Ole, or I'll + fire you! No, sir. After you've thrashed him I want you to bend a rope + round him amidships and souse him overside to bring him to! Remember, we + fired him once and he would not be fired. The damned sea lawyer quoted the + salt-water code to us and said he'd shipped for the round trip; so we'll + take him at his word. He's your first mate, captain. Bring him back to + Grays Harbor with you; and then, if you feel so inclined, you may apply + the tip of your number twenty-four sea boot where it will do the most + good; in fact, I should prefer it. But by all means see to it that he + completes his contract with the barkentine Retriever.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye skoll see to it,” Ole promised fervently. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, captain. Come out in the general office now and I'll + introduce you to the cashier, who will furnish you with expense money. + Meantime, I'll have Skinner fill out a certificate of change of masters + and have it registered at the custom-house. Can't send you down there + without your credentials, you know.” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet mumbled his thanks; for, indeed, he was grateful for + this chance to prove his metal. Calm in the knowledge of his past + performances, he took no thought of the personal issue with Matt Peasley, + for never had he met a mate he could not thrash. He followed Cappy out to + the cashier's desk; and while the latter equipped All Hands And Feet for + his journey to South Africa, and Mr. Skinner departed for the custom-house + to have the certificate registered, Cappy wired McBride, aboard the + Overland speeding east, instructing him to come back to San Francisco. + </p> + <p> + When Skinner returned to the office he found Cappy clawing nervously at + his whiskers. + </p> + <p> + “The man Peasley has completely disrupted our organization,” he complained + bitterly. “Here I go to work and promote McBride to the Retriever to make + room for his mate in the Nokomis, and now I have to recall Mac and give + the Retriever to All Hands And Feet until she gets back to Grays Harbor; + in consequence of which Mac hasn't a thing to do for four months and draws + full pay for doing it, and later I've got to provide a permanent place for + All Hands And Feet! Skinner, if this continues, I shall yet fill a + pauper's grave.” He was silent for several seconds; then: “By the way, + Skinner, have you replied to that last cablegram from the man Peasley?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I didn't think it required an answer.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you didn't know what answer to give him,” Cappy snarled. “Well, + neither do I; but since the cuss has got us into the spending habit, I'm + going to be reckless for once and send him a cable myself, just to let him + know I'm calling his bluff.” + </p> + <p> + And, with that remark, Cappy squared round to his desk and wrote, in a + trembling hand: “Special messenger big as horse carries reply your last + cablegram.” + </p> + <p> + “There,” he said, turning to his general manager; “send that to the man + Peasley, and sign my name to it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. MR. MURPHY ADVISES PREPAREDNESS + </h2> + <p> + Matt Peasley said nothing to Mr. Murphy when Cappy Ricks' cryptic + cablegram was received. Insofar as Matt was concerned, that cablegram + closed the argument, for even had it seemed to demand a reply the master + of the Retriever would not—nay could not, have answered, for the + controversy had already ruined him financially. So he went on briskly with + his task of discharging the Retriever and when the A. D. liner pulled out + for Liverpool with Captain Noah's body on board, he laid off work merely + long enough to dip the ensign and run it to half mast again until the + steamer was out of sight; then he furled the flag, stored it in the locker + in Captain Noah's stateroom, into which he had now moved, and went on + superintending the discharging. When the vessel was empty he had a tug tow + him out into the roadstead, where he cast anchor and set himself patiently + to await the arrival of the special messenger “as big as a horse.” + </p> + <p> + Somehow Matt didn't relish that little dash of descriptive writing. In + conjunction with the noun horse Cappy Ricks had employed the indefinite + article a, and while a horse was a horse and Cappy might have had a + Shetland pony in mind when he coined the simile, nevertheless, a still + small voice whispered to Matt Peasley that at the time Cappy was really + thinking of a Percheron. The longer Matt chewed the cud of anticipation + the more acute grew his regret that he had threatened to throw his + successor overboard. He traced a certain analogy between that threat and + Cappy Ricks' simple declarative sentence, and finally he decided to take + Mr. Murphy into his confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” he said, “did you ever hear any gossip to the effect that Cappy + Ricks will swallow a bluff?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I never have,” Mr. Murphy replied. “Why do you ask? You been trying + to bluff him, Matt?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I really meant it when I said it, and if I'm crowded I'll make good, + but somehow I wish I hadn't said it. It wasn't dignified.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say, Matt?” + </p> + <p> + “I cabled the owners that if they sent a skipper down here to relieve me + they had better insure his life, because I'd throw him overboard upon + arrival.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's war talk,” Mr. Murphy declared, highly scandalized. “I don't + think Cappy Ricks will stand for that. I know blame well I wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “What would you do, Mike, if you stood in Cappy's shoes and I sent you + that cablegram?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Mr. Murphy mused, “of course I'd be a little old man weighing + about a hundred and thirty pounds ring-side, and I wouldn't be able to + thrash you myself, but if it took my last dollar I'd send somebody down + here to do the job for me. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess that's just about what Cappy has done,” Matt admitted, and + handed his mate Cappy's cablegram. + </p> + <p> + “Hah-hah!” Mr. Murphy commented. “That threat got past the general + manager, right up to headquarters. Why, the old man signed this cablegram + and they do say that when Cappy takes personal charge the fur begins to + fly. Matt, if I was a drinking man I'd offer to bet you a scuttle of grog + it's a case of die dog, or eat the meat-axe. Your bluff has been called, + my son.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” Matt averred impudently, “the only thing for me to do is to call + Cappy's.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, give his messenger a good trouncing, of course. You don't suppose + I'm going to stand by and take a thrashing or let the other fellow heave + me overboard, do you? I should say not!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy puffed at his pipe, in silence for several minutes, the while + he pondered the situation. Presently he arrived at a solution. + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn't send a prize-fighter down here, just to lick you,” he + announced. “The old man is the wildest spendthrift on earth when you get + him started, but as a general rule his middle name is Tight Wad. He would + select a combination of scrapper and skipper, and there are any number of + such combinations on the beach of 'Frisco town. I could name you a dozen + off-hand, and any one of the dozen would make you mind your P's and Q's, + big as you are. Still, they all fight alike—rough and tumble, + catch-as-catch-can. They come wading in, swinging both arms and you could + sail the Retriever through the openings they leave. Know anything about + boxing, Matt?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a thing, Mike. I've always had to climb the big fellows.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll teach you,” Mr. Murphy announced with conviction. “You're in + fine shape now—as right as a fox and fit to tackle the finest, but + there isn't any sense in getting mauled up when you don't have to. I'll go + ashore and buy a set of six-ounce gloves, a set of two-ounce gloves and a + punching bag. For the next three weeks you won't have anything to do + except prepare for the battle, and I can teach you a lot of good stuff in + three weeks. To be fore-warned is to be fore-armed, Matt, and if Cappy has + sent a Holy Terror to clean you, give him a regular fight, even if he + licks you.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley nodded. He entertained a profound respect for Mr. Murphy's + judgment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE BATTLE OF TABLE BAY + </h2> + <p> + In due course Captain Ole Peterson arrived at Cape Town. As the steamer + which bore him slipped up Table Bay to her pier All Hands And Feet saw a + big barkentine, flying the American flag, at anchor just inside the + breakwater and rightly conjectured she was his future command. Three hours + ashore proved ample time to consummate all of the Retriever's neglected + business. He discovered that the man to whom he was to administer a good, + sound, commercial thrashing, as per Cappy Ricks' instructions, had already + purchased and gotten aboard stores and water for the voyage back to Grays + Harbor, so All Hands And Feet drew some money from the consignees, to be + deducted from the freight money, paid off all the vessel's bills, O.K.'d + the consignees' statement of account to be forwarded to the owners, + received a ninety-day draft on London, in payment of the freight, mailed + it to his owners, cleared his vessel, procured a reliable man to witness + the formal transfer of authority from Matt Peasley to himself, engaged a + launch and set out for the Retriever. All Hands And Feet had had ample + time to plan his campaign, and he had planned it well. Immediately upon + setting foot on the deck of the Retriever he planned to attack; then, this + duty accomplished, he would send his witness ashore, up hook and away. The + attack having taken place in British waters All Hands And Feet hoped Matt + Peasley would have no redress in American waters; and if he took the + complainant to sea with him the man Peasley would, of a certainty, have no + legal redress in British waters! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy was the first to sight All Hands And Feet. The worthy fellow + had observed the arrival of the steamer and it had occurred to him that + possibly Cappy Ricks' messenger might be aboard her. He had been on the + lookout for two hours, accordingly, and the instant he saw a launch coming + toward the Retriever his suspicions were fully aroused. He ran below and + returned with the two ounce gloves and Captain Kendall's powerful marine + glasses, which latter he leveled at the approaching launch, and while the + new skipper was still a couple of cable lengths distant, Mr. Murphy + recognized him. Instantly he secured the two ounce gloves and ran aft to + where Matt Peasley, dressed in slippers, duck trousers and undershirt, sat + under an awning reading Sinful Peck. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he declared, “the special messenger will be aboard in about three + shakes of a lamb's tail. I recognize him.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” Matt demanded coolly. + </p> + <p> + “All Hands And Feet—and believe me, he's there! He isn't a man, + Matt, he's a bear—he's a devil, and if he ever gets his hands on you + it's Kitty bar the door! Get into the gloves, boy, get into the gloves. + You could smash that big Swede to your heart's content, but you wouldn't + even stagger him with the first few punches. You'd just break your hands + on him before you could knock him out and then he'd walk over you. Into + the gloves, Matt, and save your knuckles.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mike. Don't be in such a hurry. Call a couple of hands and let + down the companion ladder so the special messenger can bring his dunnage + aboard. I'll fight him after I've finished this chapter—that is, if + he insists on being accommodated.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll insist,” Mr. Murphy declared. “He likes it, and the reason he likes + it is because he does it well, and that's the reason he's here. He won't + waste any ceremony on you, Matt. He's always up and doing.” + </p> + <p> + Matt finished his chapter of Sinful Peck just as All Hands And Feet, + followed by a Cape Town gentleman and two Kru boys, bearing respectively a + brown canvas telescope basket and a sea chest, bore down upon him, + convoyed by Mr. Murphy. + </p> + <p> + “A big Swede skipper,” Matt Peasley soliloquized, as he eyed the stranger + with alert interest. “Thunder, but he's big. He's the biggest thing I ever + saw walking on two legs, with the exception of a trick elephant.” He rose, + put down his book and advanced to greet his visitors. While All Hands And + Feet was still fully thirty feet from him he bawled aloud: + </p> + <p> + “You ban Mr. Peasley?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Peasley,” young Matt corrected him. “Since the death of Captain + Kendall I have been in charge of the vessel; hence, for the present, I am + known as Captain Peasley. What can I do for you, gentlemen?” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet glanced appraisingly at Matt Peasley and did him the + honor to remove his coat and vest. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it's pretty hot down in these latitudes,” Matt remarked, by way of + being pleasant and making conversation. + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet removed an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it + to Matt; and while the latter perused it the big Swede strode to the + scuttle butt and helped himself to a drink of water. Matt opened the + envelope and read this communication from Cappy Ricks: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, California. + February 20, 19—. + + Mr. Matthew Peasley, + Chief Mate Barkentine Retriever, + Cape Town, South Africa. + + My Dear Mr. Peasley: + + Cast your eye along the lines of the bearer of this note, Captain + Ole Peterson, who comes to Cape Town to take command of the + Retriever. Within five minutes he will, acting under + instructions from me and without the slightest personal animus + toward yourself, proceed to administer to you the beating of a + lifetime. By the time he gets through wiping the deck with you + perhaps you will realize the necessity, in the future, of obeying + orders from your owners. + + In your cablegram received to-day, you take occasion to remind us + that no manager or owner has authority to disrate a ship's + officer. This is quite true. Such authority is vested only in + the master of the ship. You need have no fear for your job, + however. We believe you to be a clever first mate, otherwise + Captain Kendall would not have dug you up out of the forecastle; + and believing this, naturally we dislike the thought of disrating + you. We have, therefore, instructed Captain Peterson to retain + you in your berth as first mate. + + However, in view of the fact that we have informed him of your + amiable intentions of throwing him overboard, he will first + inculcate in you that spirit of respect to your superiors which + you so manifestly lack. He will then dip you into the drink, to + bring you to, and after that you will kindly go forward and break + out the anchor. You signed for the round trip and you're going + to complete your contract. Remember that. + + Cordially and sincerely yours, + Blue Star Navigation Company, + By Alden P. Ricks, + President. +</pre> + <p> + Matt Peasley read this extraordinary communication twice, then folded it + and calmly placed it in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “May I inquire, sir,” he said, facing the gentleman who had accompanied + All Hands And Feet aboard the Retriever, “who you are and the nature of + your business?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the American consul, Mr. Peasley, and I am here at the invitation of + Captain Peterson, the master of this ship, to witness the formal transfer + of authority from you to him. I was given to understand by Captain + Peterson that you might offer some slight objection to this arrangement.” + </p> + <p> + “Slight objection!” Matt Peasley replied with a rising inflection, and + grinned maliciously. + </p> + <p> + The consul had his Yankee sense of humor with him and chuckled as Matt + lifted his big body on his toes and stretched both arms lazily. Then + Matthew Peasley turned toward All Hands And Feet. + </p> + <p> + “I have a letter from the owners of the Retriever,” he said respectfully, + “which leads me to presume that you are to supersede me in command of the + vessel.” All Hands And Feet nodded. “Which being the case,” Matt Peasley + continued, “as a mere matter of formality, you will of course present your + credentials as master.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” Ole replied pleasantly, and sidled toward Matt Peasley with + outstretched arms. Could Cappy Ricks have seen his skipper then, he would + have reminded the Old Man more than ever of a bear. + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley needed no blueprint of the big Swede's plans. All Hands And + Feet, depending on his sheer horse power and superior weight, always + fought in mass formation, as it were. His modus operandi was to embrace + his enemy in those terrible arms, squeeze the breath out of him with one + bearlike hug, then lay him on the deck, straddle him, and pummel him into + insensibility at his leisure. Matt gave ground rapidly and held up a + warning hand. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, my friend,” he requested. “Before you get familiar on brief + acquaintance, don't you think you had better present your credentials?” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet shook his two great fists and grinned good-naturedly. + </p> + <p> + “How dese ban suit you for credentials?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “Fine,” Matt Peasley answered; “only, before you present them, our first + duty is to the ship. I take it that you have cleared the vessel and that + after trimming me you intend to put to sea.” + </p> + <p> + “You ban guess it,” the Swede rumbled. “Put up de dooks. Anyhow, I ban't + have to fight little feller. Dat ban one comfort.” + </p> + <p> + “You cleared the ship, eh? Well, Swede, I'm glad to hear that. I should + have cleared her myself and sailed long ago if I had only had a skipper's + ticket; but these British custom-house officials are great sticklers for + red tape and they wouldn't clear me. And, of course, a man can't sail + without his papers. When he does they send a gunboat after him. However,” + he added brightly “the ship is cleared and the skipper—so I am + unofficially informed—is aboard. By the way, Swede, I left a lot of + O.K.'d bills for stores and provision up at the office of the Harlow & + Benton Company, Limited. Did you square up for them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yah; everything ban shipshape,” All Hands And Feet assured him. + </p> + <p> + “And you insist on presenting your credentials in bunches of fives, eh?” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet nodded and once more commenced sidling toward Matt + Peasley, who backed away again, meantime addressing himself to the United + States consul: + </p> + <p> + “You heard what he said, Mr. Consul. He may be my superior officer, but I + have not been informed of that fact officially; and meantime, so far as I + am concerned, he is merely a fine, big squarehead who has climbed aboard + my ship uninvited and attacked me. Did you ever see a sea bully licked, + Mr. Consul?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never had that pleasure, Mr. Peasley.” + </p> + <p> + All the time Matt Peasley was circling around the deck, with All Hands And + Feet sidling after him. + </p> + <p> + “Then you've got something coming, sir,” Matt replied. “Help yourself to a + reserved seat on the rail and watch the joyous procedure. Mr. Murphy?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, sir,” Mr. Murphy replied promptly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to thrash the big fellow, Mr. Murphy. Stand by to see fair play + and keep the crew off him. I observe you have equipped yourself with a + belaying-pin. Thank you, Mr. Murphy. You anticipate the situation.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to All Hands And Feet, who was still crowding him as they + circled the deck. “Stop where you are, my friend; otherwise, Mr. Murphy + will crack you on the head with the belaying-pin.” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet grinned patronizingly and paused. + </p> + <p> + “Vell?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “On my ship,” Matt continued, “all fights are pulled off under my rules. + Kicking, choking, biting, gouging and deadly weapons are prohibited. If + you get me down you can use your fists on me, but anything else will + necessitate the interference of the referee with his trusty belaying-pin.” + </p> + <p> + “Vell?” All Hands And Feet queried again. He was very eager for the fray. + </p> + <p> + “We have procured a set of two-ounce gloves in anticipation of this + physical culture exhibition,” Matt replied. “Unfortunately, however, I + fear your hands will not fit them. Would you care to try them on?” + </p> + <p> + “Cut it oud! Cut it oud!” the enemy rumbled contemptuously, and again + commenced his advance. + </p> + <p> + “One minute, then, my friend, until I put on—” + </p> + <p> + “Fight mit your bare hands like a man!” the big Swede bellowed scathingly. + </p> + <p> + “You forget. I told you all fights on my ship are pulled off under my + rules. I always fight with two-ounce gloves.” + </p> + <p> + “All righd. Suit yourself.” All Hands And Feet felt he could afford to + give the enemy a trifle the better of the argument without the slightest + prejudice to his own chances for success. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, Mr. Murphy skillfully bandaged Matt Peasley's hands, drew on + the gloves and gently shoved his young champion toward the center of the + deck. “Let 'er go!” he announced. + </p> + <p> + “Come Swede! Present your credentials!” Matt taunted. His long left + flashed out and cuffed All Hands And Feet on the nose. + </p> + <p> + It was a mere love-tap! All Hands And Feet grinned pityingly, and with his + left arm guarding his face, rushed. + </p> + <p> + “Lower deck!” Mr. Murphy warned, and laughed as Matt planted left and + right in the midriff and danced away from the Swede's swinging right. All + Hands And Feet grunted—a most unwarriorlike grunt—and dropped + both hands—whereupon a fog suddenly descended upon his vision. + Faintly he made out a blur that was Matt Peasley; bellowing wrathfully he + rushed. Matt gave ground and the Swede's vision cleared and he paused to + consider the situation. + </p> + <p> + “No rest for the wicked,” Mr. Murphy declared. “At him, boy, at him!” + </p> + <p> + All Hands And Feet realized he faced a desperate situation, and as Matt + stepped in he ducked and leaped upon his antagonist. + </p> + <p> + “By yiminy,” he yelled. “I got you now!” and his great hands closed around + Matt Peasley's neck. + </p> + <p> + “Lower deck!” Mr. Murphy yelled shrilly, and a volley of short arm blows + commenced to rattle on the big Swede's stomach. For at least seven seconds + Matt worked like a pneumatic riveter; then— + </p> + <p> + “Swing your partner for the grand right and left,” Mr. Murphy counseled, + and Matt closed with All Hands And Feet, and managed to shake the badly + winded champion off. + </p> + <p> + “All off,” Mr. Murphy declared to the American consul and dropped his + marline-spike, as Matt Peasley ripped left and right, right and left into + Ole Peterson's dish face. “Watch the skipper—our skipper, I mean. + Regular young human pile-driver.” He raised his voice and called to Matt + Peasley. “He's rocking on his legs now, sir; but keep away from those + arms. He's dangerous and you're givin' him fifty pounds the best of it in + the weights. Try the short ribs with your left and feel for his chin with + the right, sir. Very nicely done, sir! Now—once more!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy nodded politely to the American consul. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” he said. “The bigger they are the harder they fall, and the + Retriever's deck ain't no nice place to bump a man's head. I'll just skip + round in back and catch him in my arms.” + </p> + <p> + Which being done, Mr. Murphy laid All Hands And Feet gently on deck, + walked to the scuttle butt, procured a dipperful of water and threw it + into the gory, battered face. Matt Peasley had simply walked round him + and, with the advantage of a superior reach, had systematically cut + Captain Ole Peterson to strings and ribbons. + </p> + <p> + He held up the blood-soaked gloves for Mr. Murphy to untie the strings, + the while he sniffed a little afternoon breeze that had just sprung up, + blowing straight for the open sea. + </p> + <p> + “When he comes to, Mr. Murphy,” he ordered calmly, “escort him to your old + room. Have one of the men stow his dunnage there also; and tell him if he + shows his nose on deck until I give him permission, he shall have another + taste of the same. Mr. Consul, I should be highly honored if you would + step into my cabin and hoist one to our own dear native land.” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure,” the consul replied. “Though I cannot, in my capacity as a + citizen of the United States, endorse your—er—mutiny, + nevertheless, as a United States consul at Cape Town I shall take pleasure + in certifying to the fact that the fallen gladiator was the aggressor, + that he did not present his credentials, and that you had no official + knowledge of his identity.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would make an affidavit to that effect, under the seal of the + Consulate, and mail it to me at Hoquiam, Washington, U. S. A.,” Matt + pleaded, as they reached his cabin. He reached into poor old Cap'n Noah's + little private locker. “I've a suspicion, sir, I'm going to need your + affidavit very badly.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do so, Mr. Peasley. May I inquire what you purpose doing with + Captain Peterson?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Peasley—if you please, Mr. Consul.” Matt looked up and + grinned. “I think,” he continued, as he inserted the corkscrew, “I shall + ship that boy as second mate if he's willing to work. If he's sullen, of + course he'll have to remain in his room—and I shall not permit him + to present his credentials now.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Peasley,” the consul warned seriously. “I'm afraid you're in + very, very Dutch.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't be surprised. However, it will be about three months before I + commence to suffer, and in the meantime I'm going to be supremely happy + skippering the barkentine Retriever back to Grays Harbor, if they hang me + for it when I get there. Say when!” + </p> + <p> + “When!” + </p> + <p> + “Here's success to crime, Mr. Consul.” + </p> + <p> + “Good luck to you, you youthful prodigy; good luck and bon voyage, Mr.—I + mean Captain Peasley.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Consul. I hate to hurry you away; fact is, I'd like to + have you stay aboard and have dinner with us, but if this breeze holds + good I can save my owners an outward towage bill, and I'll have to hustle. + So I'll bid you good-bye, Mr. Consul. Glad to have had you for the little + exhibition. Here is my name and address—and please don't forget that + affidavit.” + </p> + <p> + When the American consul left the ship Matt Peasley was on the poop + bawling orders; up on the topgallant forecastle the capable Mr. Murphy and + his bully boys were walking around the windlass to the bellowing chorus of + Roll A Man Down! while the boatswain, promoted by Matt Peasley to second + mate, was laying aloft forward shaking out the topsails and hoisting her + head-sails. When the consul looked again, the American barkentine + Retriever had turned her tail on Cape Town and was scampering down Table + Bay with a bone in her teeth; heeling gently to the freshening breeze, she + was rolling home in command of the boy who had joined her five months + before as an able seaman. + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley rounded the Cape of Good Hope nicely, but he had added + materially to his stock of seamanship before he won through the tide-rips + off Point Aghulas and squared away across the Indian Ocean. Coming up + along the coast of Australia he had the sou'east trades and he crowded her + until Mr. Murphy forgot the traditions of the sea, forgot that Matt + Peasley was the skipper and hence not to be questioned, and remembered + that the madman was only a boy. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Matt,” he pleaded, “take some clothes off the old girl, for the + love of life! She's making steamer time now, and if the breeze freshens + you'll lift the sticks out of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Lift nothing, Mike. I know her. Cap'n Noah told me all about her. You can + drive the Retriever until she develops a certain little squeak up forward—and + then it's time to shorten sail. She isn't squeaking yet, Mike. Don't + worry. She'll let us know,” and his beaming glance wandered aloft to the + straining cordage and bellying canvas. “Into it, sweetheart,” he crooned, + “into it, girl, and we'll show this Cappy Ricks what we know about sailing + a ship that can sail! Meager maritime experience, eh? I'll show him!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Oh, Sally Brown, I love your daughter, + I love your daughter, indeed I do, +</pre> + <p> + he caroled, and buck-and-winged his way back to the poop, for he was only + a boy, life was good, he was fighting a fight and as Mr. Murphy remarked a + minute later when Matt ordered him to bend the fore-staysail on her; “What + the hell!” + </p> + <p> + Day and night Matt Peasley drove her into it. He stood far off shore until + he ran out of the sou'east trades, fiddled around two days in light airs + and then picked up the nor'east trades; drove her well into the north, + hauled round and came romping up to Grays Harbor bar seventy-nine days + from Cape Town. A bar tug, ranging down the coast, hooked on to him and + snaked him in. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. MR. SKINNER RECEIVES A TELEGRAM + </h2> + <p> + Cappy Ricks was having his customary mid-afternoon nap in his big swivel + chair and his feet on his desk, when Mr. Skinner came in and woke him up. + </p> + <p> + “I just couldn't help it, sir,” he announced apologetically, as Cappy + opened one eye and glared at him, “I had to wake you up and tell you the + news.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell it!” Cappy snapped. + </p> + <p> + “The Retriever arrived at Grays Harbor this morning, Mr. Ricks. She's + broken the record for a fast passage,” and he handed Cappy Ricks a + telegram. + </p> + <p> + “Bless my withered heart!” Cappy declared, and opened his other eye. “You + don't tell me? Well, well, well! All Hands And Feet is making good right + off the bat, isn't he?” Cappy chuckled. “Skinner, my dear boy,” he + bragged, “did you ever see me start out to pick a skipper and hand myself + the worst of it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” Mr. Skinner maintained dutifully, and turned away to hide a + wicked little smile, which under the circumstances Skinner was entitled + to. + </p> + <p> + “And you never will, Skinner. Paste that in your hat, boy. That big Swede, + Peterson, can handle a ship as well as he can handle a refractory mate—and + that's going some, Skinner—going some! I'm not surprised at his fast + passage. Not at all, Skinner. Come to think of it, I'm going to fire that + Scotchman in the Fortuna and give All Hands And Feet his berth. He has + earned it.” + </p> + <p> + He adjusted his spectacles and read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Hoquiam, Washington, + June 27, 19—. + + Blue Star Navigation Company, + 258 California St., + San Francisco. + + Arrived this morning, seventy-nine days from bar to bar, all + hands well, including your special messenger. Offered him job + as second mate, just to show I had no hard feelings, but he + would not work, so I brought him home under hatches. Permitted + him present his formal credentials this morning and turned over + command of ship to him. Declined responsibility and left, + saying you had promised him command four-masted schooner. + Seemed trifle hurt, although it is seventy-nine days since I + thrashed him. Consequently I am still in command and awaiting + your instructions. + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + For a long time Cappy Ricks kept looking sternly at Mr. Skinner over the + tops of his spectacles. There was blood on the moon again, and the silence + was terrible. He kept rocking gently backward and forward in his swivel + chair, for all the world as though preparing for a panther-like spring at + Mr. Skinner's throat. Suddenly he exploded. + </p> + <p> + “I won't have another thing to do with the man Peasley!” he shrilled. “The + fellow is a thorn in my side and I want peace! Understand, Skinner? I—want—peace! + What in blue blazes do I pay you ten thousand a year for if it isn't to + give me peace? Answer me that, Skinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Well you said you wanted to attend to the shipping—” + </p> + <p> + “That'll do, Skinner—that'll do! You're an honorary member of the + I-told-you-so Club and I'm thoroughly disgusted with you. Rid me of this + man—immediately. If I ever get another telegram from the scoundrel I + shall hold you personally responsible.” + </p> + <p> + Forthwith Mr. Skinner acted. He went up to the office of the United States + District Attorney and swore out a Federal warrant for the arrest of + Matthew Peasley on a charge of mutiny and insubordination, assault and + battery on the high seas, and everything else he could think of. The + authorities promptly wired north to send a United States marshal down to + Grays Harbor to arrest the culprit; and the following afternoon, when + Cappy Ricks got back to his office after luncheon and picked up the paper, + the very first thing his glance rested on was the headline: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + MATE CHARGED WITH MUTINY! +</pre> + <p> + Mutiny and sundry other crimes on the high seas are out of the ordinary; + hence the United Press correspondent at Hoquiam had considered the story + of Matt Peasley's arrest worthy of dissemination over the Pacific Coast. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks read it, the principal item of interest in it being a + purported interview with Matt Peasley, who, in choice newspaperese, had + entered a vigorous denial of the charge. The story concluded with the + statement that Peasley was a native of Thomaston, Maine, where he had + always borne a most excellent reputation for steadiness and sobriety. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks laid the paper aside. + </p> + <p> + Thomaston, Maine! So the man Peasley was a Down-Easter! That explained it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope my teeth may fall into the ocean!” Cappy murmured. + “Thomaston, Maine! Why, he's one of our own town boys—one of my own + people! Dear, dear, dear! Well now, it's strange I didn't know that name. + I must be getting old to forget it.” + </p> + <p> + He sat in his swivel chair, rocking gently backward and forward for + several minutes, after a fashion he had when perturbed. Suddenly his old + hand shot out and pressed the push button on his desk, and his + stenographer answered. + </p> + <p> + “Send Mr. Skinner in!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + Presently Mr. Skinner came, and again Cappy eyed him over the tops of his + spectacles; again the terrible silence. Skinner commenced to fidget. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” began Cappy impressively, “how often have I got to tell you not + to interfere with the shipping? Tut, tut! Not a peep out of you, sir—not + a peep! You had the audacity, sir, to swear to a Federal warrant against + the man Peasley. How dare you, sir? Do you know who the man Peasley is? + You don't. Well, sir, I'll tell you. He's a Down-East boy and I went to + school with his people. I'll bet Ethan Peasley was a relative of this boy + Matt, because Ethan had a cousin by the name of Matthew; and Ethan and + Matt and I used to hell around together until they went to sea. + </p> + <p> + “Lord bless you, Skinner, I can remember yet the day the Martha Peasley + came up the harbor, with her flag at half-mast—and poor old Ethan + was gone—whipped off the end of her main yard when she rolled! + </p> + <p> + “We were great chums, Ethan and I, Skinner; and I cried. Why—why, + damn it, sir, this boy Matt's people and mine are all buried in the same + cemetery back home. Yes, sir! And nearly all of 'em have the same epitaph—'Lost + at Sea'—and—you idiot, Skinner! What do you mean, sir, by + standing there with your infernal little smile on your smug face? Out of + my office, you jackanapes, and call the dogs off this boy Matt. Why, there + was never one of his breed that wasn't a man and a seaman, every inch of + him. + </p> + <p> + “All Hands And Feet thrash a Peasley! Huh! A joke! Why, Ethan was six foot + six at twenty, with an arm like a fathom of towing cable. Catch me turning + down one of our own boys! No, sir! Not by a damned sight!” + </p> + <p> + In all his life Mr. Skinner had never seen Cappy Ricks so wrought up. He + fled at once to call off the dogs, while Cappy turned to his desk and + wrote this telegram: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, California. + June 28, 19—. + + Matt Peasley, + Care United States Marshal, + Hoquiam, Washington. + + Congratulations on splendid voyage. You busted record. + Lindquist, in the John A. Logan, did it in eighty-four days in + the spring of ninety-four. Draw draft and pay off crew, render + report of voyage, place second mate in charge, and proceed + immediately to Seattle to get your master's ticket. Will + telegraph Seattle inspectors requesting waive further probation + as first mate and issue license if you pass examination in + order that you may accept captaincy of Retriever. Skinner, my + manager, had you arrested. Would never have done it myself. I + come from Thomaston, Maine, and I knew your people. Would + never have sent the Swede had I known which tribe of Peasley + you belonged to—though, if he had licked you, no more than you + deserved. I want no more of your impudence, Matt. + + Alden P. Ricks. + + * * * * * * +</pre> + <p> + For a week business droned along in Cappy Ricks' office as usual, + interrupted at last by the receipt of a telegram from Matt Peasley to + Cappy. It was sent from Seattle and read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Have now legal right to be called captain. Rejoin ship + tomorrow. Wire orders. Thank you.” + </pre> + <p> + “God bless the lad!” Cappy murmured happily. “I'll bet he's going to make + me a skookum skipper. Still, I think he's pretty young and sadly in need + of training; so I'll have to take some of the conceit out of him. I'm + going to proceed to break his young heart; and if he yells murder I'll + fire him! On the contrary, if he's one of Ethan's tribe—well, the + Peasleys always did their duty; I'll say that for them. I hope he stands + the acid.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon Cappy Ricks squared round to his desk and wrote: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, July 5, 19—. + + Captain Matthew Peasley, + Master Barkentine Retriever, + Hoquiam, Washington. + + Glad you have legal right to be called captain. Sorry I have + not. Proceed to Weatherby's mill, at Cosmopolis, and load for + Antofagasta, Chile. Remember speed synonymous with dividends + in shipping business. + + Blue Star Navigation Company. +</pre> + <p> + When Cappy signed his telegrams with the company name it was always a sure + indication he had discharged his cargo of sentiment and gotten down to + business once more. + </p> + <p> + “A little creosoted piling now and then is bully for the best of men,” he + cackled. “For a month of Sundays that man Peasley will curse me as far as + he can smell the Retriever. Oh, well! Every dog must have his day—and + I'm a wise old dog. I'll teach that Matt boy some respect for his owners + before I'm through with him!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE CAMPAIGN OPENS + </h2> + <p> + When Matt Peasley's Yankee combativeness, coupled with the accident of + birth in the old home town of Cappy Ricks, gained for him command of the + Blue Star Navigation Company's big barkentine, Retriever, he lacked eight + days of his twenty-first birthday. He had slightly less beard than the + average youth of his years; and, despite the fact that he had been exposed + almost constantly to salty gales since his fourteenth birthday, he did not + look his age. And of all the ridiculous sights ashore or afloat the most + ridiculous is a sea captain with the body of a Hercules and the immature + features of an eighteen-year-old boy. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, such a great, soft, innocent baby type was Matt Peasley that even + the limited sense of humor possessed by his motley crew forbade their + reference to him, after custom immemorial, as the Old Man. The formal + title of captain seemed equally absurd; so they compromised by dubbing him + Mother's Darling. + </p> + <p> + “If,” quoth Mr. Michael Murphy, chief kicker of the Retriever, over a + quiet pipe with Mr. Angus MacLean, the second mate, as the vessel lay at + anchor in Grays Harbor, “Cappy Ricks had laid eyes on Mother's Darling + before ordering him to Seattle to go up for his master's ticket, the old + fox would have scuttled the ship sooner than trust that baby with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye'll nae be denying the lad kens his business,” Mr. MacLean declared. + </p> + <p> + “Aye! True enough, Mac; but 'twould be hard to convince Cappy Ricks o' + that. Every skipper in his employ is a graybeard.” + </p> + <p> + “Mayhap,” the canny MacLean retorted. “That's because t'owd boy's skippers + have held their berths ower long.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Murphy shook his head. He had come up from before the mast in the + ships of the Blue Star Navigation Company, and since he had ambitions he + had been at some pains to acquaint himself with the peculiarities of the + president of that corporation. + </p> + <p> + “Give Cappy Ricks one look into Matt Peasley's face and I'll be skippering + the Retriever,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + And in this he was more than half right, for Cappy Ricks had never met + Matt Peasley, and when the Old Man made up his mind that he wanted the boy + to skipper his barkentine, the Retriever, he was acting entirely on + instinct. He only knew that in Matt Peasley he had a man who had shipped + out before the mast and returned from the voyage in command of the ship, + and naturally such an exploit challenged recognition of the most signal + nature—particularly when, in its performance, the object of Cappy's + admiration had demonstrated that he was possessed of certain sterling + attributes which are commonly supposed to make for success in any walk of + life. + </p> + <p> + Since Matt Peasley had accomplished a man's work it never occurred to + Cappy Ricks to consider that the object of his interest might be a boy. + Young he knew him to be—that is to say, Cappy figured the rascal to + be somewhere between thirty and thirty-five. + </p> + <p> + Had he known, however, that his prospective captain had but recently + attained his majority the Old Man would have ascribed Matt Peasley's + record-breaking voyage from Cape Town to Grays Harbor as sheer luck, and + forthwith would have set Master Matthew down for a five-year + apprenticeship as first mate; for Cappy was the product of an older day, + and held that gray hairs and experience are the prime requisites for a + berth as master. + </p> + <p> + Any young upstart can run coastwise, put in his service sailing a ship + from headland to headland, and then take a course in a navigation school, + where in six weeks he can cram sufficient navigation into his thick head + to pass the inspectors and get a master's ticket; but for offshore + cruising Cappy Ricks demanded a real sailor and a thorough business man + rolled into one. + </p> + <p> + Mother's Darling had returned to Grays Harbor from a flying visit to + Seattle, where two grizzled old ex-salts, the local inspectors, had put + him through a severe examination to ascertain what he knew of Bowditch on + Navigation and Nichols on Seamanship. Naturally he did not know as much as + they thought he should; but, out of sheer salt-water pride in the exploit + of a stripling and in deference to a letter from Cappy Ricks requesting + them to waive further probation as chief mate and issue Mr. Peasley his + master's license if they found him at all competent—this in order + that the said Peasley might take command of his barkentine, the Retriever, + forthwith—the inspectors concluded to override the rules of the + Department of Commerce, and gave Matt Peasley his master's license. + </p> + <p> + Upon his return from Seattle, Matt called at the telegraph office in + Hoquiam and received his loading instructions from the owners. His heart + beat high with youthful importance and the joy of victory as he almost ran + to the water front and engaged a big gasoline launch to take him aboard + the Retriever and then kick her into the mill dock at Cosmopolis. His ship + was not where he had left her, however, and after an hour's search he + discovered her several miles up the Chehalis river. Murphy was on deck, + gazing wistfully at the house and wishing he had some white paint, when + Matt Peasley came aboard. Even before the latter leaped to the deck Mr. + Murphy knew the glad tidings—knew them, in fact, the very instant + the boy's shining countenance appeared above the rail. The skipper was + grinning fatuously and Mr. Murphy grinned back at him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” he greeted young Matt, “I see you're the permanent skipper. I + congratulate you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mike. And I hope you will have no objection to continuing in + your berth as first mate. I realize I'm pretty young for an old sailor + like you to be taking orders from—” + </p> + <p> + “Bless your soul, sir,” Mr. Murphy protested; “of course I'll stick with + you! Didn't you whale the big Swede Cappy Ricks sent to Cape Town to kick + you out of your just due?” He reaffirmed his loyalty with a contemptuous + grunt. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing way up the river?” the captain demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's a little liberty I took,” the mate declared. “You're new to + this coast; and, of course, when they ordered us to Grays Harbor I knew we + weren't going to be able to go on dry dock, because there isn't any dry + dock here. So, while you were in Seattle, I had a gasoline tug tow us + up-river. We've been lying in fresh water four days, sir, and that'll kill + most of the worms on her bottom.” + </p> + <p> + “Hereafter,” said Matt Peasley, “you get ten dollars a month above the + scale. Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy acknowledged his appreciation. + </p> + <p> + “Any orders, sir?” he continued. + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley showed him Cappy Ricks' telegram and Mr. Murphy nodded his + approval. He had been in port nearly a week and the whine of the sawmills + and the reek of river water had begun to get on his nerves. He was ready + for the dark blue again. + </p> + <p> + “There's something wrong about our cargo, I think,” Matt remarked + presently. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, down at the telegraph office this morning I met the master of the + schooner, Carrier Dove, and when I told him my orders he snickered.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Well, he ought to know what he snickered about, sir. The Carrier + Dove just finished loading at Weatherby's mill,” Mr. Murphy replied. + “She's a Blue Star craft and bound for Antofagasta also. Her skipper's + Salvation Pete Hansen, and it would be just like that squarehead to dodge + a deckload of piling and leave it for us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, whatever it was it amused him greatly. It must be worse than a + deckload of piling.” + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing worse in the timber line, unless it's a load underdeck, + sir. You take a sixty-foot pile with a fourteen-inch butt and try to shove + it down through the hatch, and you've got a job on your hands. And after + the hold is half filled you've got to quit loading through the hatch, cut + ports in your bows, and shove the sticks in that way. It's the slowest + loading and discharging in the world; and unless you drive her between + ports and make up for the lost time you don't make a good showing with + your owners—and then your job's in danger. Ship owners never + consider anything except results.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” the captain answered, “in order not to waste any more time than is + absolutely necessary, call Mr. MacLean and the cook, and we'll go for'd + and break out the anchor.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately on his arrival from Cape Town, Matt Peasley had paid off all + his foremast hands, leaving the two mates and the cook the only men aboard + the vessel. He joined them now in a walk around the capstan; the launch + hooked on and the Retriever was snaked across the harbor to Weatherby's + mill. And, while they were still three cables' length from the mill dock, + Mr. Murphy, who had taken up his position on the topgallant forecastle, to + be ready with a heaving line, suddenly raised his head and sniffed upwind. + </p> + <p> + The captain had the wheel and Mr. MacLean was standing aft waiting to do + his duty by the stern line. Presently he, too, raised his head and + sniffed. + </p> + <p> + “I see you got it too, Mac,” Mr. Murphy bawled. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, weel,” Mr. MacLean replied; “Why worrit aboot a bridge till ye hae to + cross it? D'ye ken 'tis oors?” + </p> + <p> + “What are you two fellows talking about and why are you sniffing?” Matt + Peasley demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sniffing at the same thing Salvation Pete Hansen laughed about,” the + mate answered. “I'll bet you a uniform cap we're stuck with a cargo of + creosoted piling—and hell hath no fury like a creosoted pile.” + </p> + <p> + When the vessel had been made fast to the mill dock Matt Peasley walked + forward to meet his mate. + </p> + <p> + “What about this cargo of ours?” he demanded. “Remember, I'm new to the + lumber trade on this coast. I have never handled any kind of piling.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, you're going to get your education like the boa constrictor + that swallowed the nigger—all in one long, slimy bite.” + </p> + <p> + He gazed at his boyish skipper appraisingly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he murmured to himself; “I can't do it. I like you for the way you + whaled that big Swede in Cape Town, but this is too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't find the odor so very unpleasant,” the master declared; “in + fact, I rather like it, and I know it's healthy, because I remember, when + my brother Ezra had pneumonia, they burned creosote in the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nobody objects to the smell particularly, sir, though it's been my + experience that anybody can cheapen a good thing by overuse—and we + have three months of that smell ahead of us. It's the taste that busts my + bobstay.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, sir, the odor of creosote is so heavy it won't float in + the air, but just settles down over everything, like mildew on a pair of + boots. So it gets in the stores and you taste it. You can store flour + below deck aft and creosoted piling on deck for'd—and you won't be + out two weeks before that flour is spoiled. Same way with the tea, coffee, + sugar, mush, salt-horse—everything. It all tastes of creosote; and + then the damned stuff rubs off on the ship and ruins the paintwork. And if + the crew happen to have any cuts or abrasions on their hands they're + almost certain to get infected with the awful stuff, and you'll be kept + busy doctoring them. Then, the first thing, along comes a gale and you're + shorthanded, and there's the devil to pay.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye!” Mr. MacLean interrupted solemnly. “I dinna care for creosote + mysel', sir; so, wi' your kind permission, I'll hae ma time—an' I'll + hae it noo.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley bent upon the recalcitrant Scotchman a withering glare. “Very + well, Mr. MacLean,” he said presently, “I never could sail in the same + ship with a quitter; so you might as well go now, when we can part good + friends.” He turned to Mr. Murphy. “How about you, Mike? Are you going to + run out on me, too?” + </p> + <p> + Now, as between the Irish and the Scotch, history records no preponderance + of courage in either, for both are Gaels and a comparison is difficult. + </p> + <p> + However, Scotchmen are a conservative race and will walk round a fight + rather than be forced into it, while all that is necessary to make an + Irishman fight is to impugn his courage. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy had seen the fight ahead of the Retriever and he did not blame + Mr. MacLean for side-stepping it. Indeed, he had intended pursuing the + same course; but Matt Peasley, by his latest remark, had rendered that + impossible. To desert now would savor of dishonor; and, moreover, Matt + Peasley, though master, had called him by his Christian name. Mr. Murphy + touched his forelock respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “I am not Scotch,” he announced, with a slight emphasis on the pronoun. + “Shame on you, Angus MacLean—ditching the skipper like that!” + </p> + <p> + “Sticks an' stones may break ma bones, but names'll never hur-rt me,” Mr. + MacLean retorted. “I tell ye I dinna care for creosote in ma porridge.” + And he followed Matt Peasley aft, where the latter paid him off and gave + him five minutes to pack and get off the ship. Immediately after supper + the cook followed the second mate; but, since the former was a Jap and + probably the worst marine cook in the world, his departure occasioned no + heartache. + </p> + <p> + “We'll board at the mill cook-house until we're loaded, Mike,” Matt + Peasley informed the mate. “They have a good Chink up there.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy sighed as he loaded his pipe and struck a match for it. + </p> + <p> + “It does look to me, sir,” he replied, with that touch of conscious + superiority so noticeable in the Celt, “as though Cappy Ricks might have + slipped this cargo to a Dutchman.” + </p> + <p> + The Retriever commenced taking on cargo at seven o'clock the following + morning, with Mr. Murphy on shipboard and Matt Peasley on the dock + superintending the gang of stevedores. Ordinarily the masters of lumber + freighters ship their crews before commencing to load, in order that + sailors at forty dollars a month may obviate the employment of an equal + number of stevedores at forty cents an hour; but Mr. Murphy, out of his + profound experience, advised against this course, as tending to spread the + news of the Retriever's misfortune and militate against securing a crew + when the vessel should be loaded and lying in the stream ready for sea. + Men employed now, he explained, would only desert. The thing to do was to + let a Seattle crimp furnish the crew, sign them on before the shipping + commissioner in Seattle, bring them aboard drunk, tow to sea, and let the + rascals make the best of a bad bargain. + </p> + <p> + The hold was about half filled, and the ship carpenters were at work + cutting ports in the Retriever's bows, when Matt Peasley discovered that + the mill did not have in hand any order for lumber to be used as stowage + to snug up the cumbersome cargo below decks and keep it from rolling and + working in a seaway. Accordingly he wired his owners as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Cosmopolis, Washington, July 7, 19—. + + Blue Star Navigation Company, + 258 California St., + San Francisco, California. + + No stowage. + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + Cappy Ricks having deliberately conspired to hang a series of dirty + cargoes on his newest skipper, for the dual purpose of teaching Matt + Peasley his place and discovering whether he was worthy of it, grinned + evilly when he received that two-word message; and, not to be out-done in + brevity, he dictated this answer: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, California, July 7, 19—. + + Captain Matthew Peasley, + Master Barkentine Retriever, + Care Weatherby's mill, Cosmopolis, Wash. + + Know it. + + Blue Star Navigation Company. +</pre> + <p> + Matt Peasley's cheeks burned when he read that message. Indeed, could + Cappy Ricks have been privileged to hear the terse remarks his telegram + elicited, there is no doubt he would have sent Mr. Skinner up to the + custom-house immediately to file a certificate of change of master. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” Mr. Murphy snorted when Matt showed him the message. “I get the old + sinner now. This is to be a grudge fight, Captain Matt. You wished + yourself onto him in Cape Town against his will, and now he's made up his + mind that so long as you wanted the job it's yours—only he'll make + you curse the day you ever moved your sea chest into the skipper's cabin. + He's going to send us into dogholes to load and open roadsteads to + discharge; and if he can find a dirty cargo anywhere we'll get it. But + it's carrying a grudge too far not to give us stowage.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's his ship,” Matt Peabody declared passionately. “If the old + thief can gamble on good weather I guess I can gamble on my seamanship—and + yours.” + </p> + <p> + The mate inclined his head at the delicate compliment; and Matt, observing + this, decided that a few more of the same from time to time would do much + to alleviate a diet of creosote. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. AN OLD FRIEND RETURNS AND CAPPY LEADS ANOTHER ACE + </h2> + <p> + Three days before the Retriever finished loading, the captain wired a + trustworthy Seattle crimp recommended by Mr. Murphy, instructing him to + send down a second mate, eight seamen and a good cook—and to bring + them drunk, because the vessel was laden with creosoted piling. Captain + Noah Kendall, Matt's predecessor on the Retriever, had been raised on + clipper ships and as he grew old had allowed himself the luxury of a third + mate, to which arrangement Cappy Ricks, having a certain affection for + Captain Noah, had never made any objection; but something whispered to + Matt Peasley that the quickest route to Cappy's heart would be via a short + payroll, so he concluded to dispense with a third mate and tack ten + dollars a month extra on the pay-check of the excellent Murphy. + </p> + <p> + The Retriever was lying in the stream fully loaded when the crew arrived, + convoyed by the crimp's runner. In accordance with instructions they were + drunk, the crimp having furnished his runner with a two-gallon jug of + home-made firewater upon leaving Seattle. One man—the second mate—was + fairly sober, however, and while the launch that bore him to the Retriever + was still half a mile from the vessel the breezes brought him an aroma + which could not, by any possibility, be confused with the concentrated + fragrance of the eight alcoholic breaths being exhaled around him. + Muttering deep curses at his betrayal, he promptly leaped overboard and + essayed to swim ashore. The runner pursued him in the launch, however, and + gaffed him by the collar with a boat-hook; the launch-man, for a + consideration, aided the runner, and the unwilling wretch was carried + struggling to purgatory. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, look who's here!” Mr. Murphy yelled to the skipper, as the bedraggled + second mate was propelled forcibly up the ship's companion-ladder to the + waiting arms of the first mate. “Welcome home, Angus, my lad.” + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. MacLean, their quondam second mate, cast back on the deckload + of the Retriever by the resurgent tide of maritime misfortune. Mr. Murphy + sat down and held himself by the middle and laughed until the tears ran + down his ruddy cheeks, while Matt Peasley joined heartily in the mirth. + The unfortunate Mr. MacLean also wept—but from other causes, to wit—grief + and rage. + </p> + <p> + “I'm happy to have you with us again, Mr. MacLean,” Matt saluted the + second mate. “While your courage and loyalty might be questioned, your + ability may not. So the crimp swindled you, eh? Told you he wanted you for + another ship and then switched the papers on you, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “You should never trust a crimp, Angus,” Mr. Murphy warned him. “And you + should never do business with them unless you're cold sober. Let this be a + lesson to you, my lad. Never be a drinking man and you'll never have to go + to a crimp for a snug berth. Run along to your old room, now, Angus, and + shift into some dry clothes, if you expect to finish the voyage.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll gie ye ma worrd I'll desert in th' discharrgin' port!” Mr. MacLean + burred furiously. “Ye hae me noo, body an' bones—” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, and we'll keep you, Angus. Have no fear of that. And you'll not + desert in the discharging port. I'll see to that,” Matt Peasley assured + him. + </p> + <p> + When the last man had been assisted aboard Matt signaled for the tug he + had engaged. By the time she had hooked on and towed them over the bar + three of the seamen were sober enough to assist the skipper and the mates + in getting all plain sail, with the exception of the square sails, on her, + and, with a spanking nor'west breeze on her quarter she rolled away into + the horizon. + </p> + <p> + Despite the fact that the Retriever's bottom was rather foul with marine + growth, and the further fact that her master had to lay her head under her + wing in a blow which, with an ordinary cargo, he would have bucked right + into, the run to Antofagasta was made in average time. And when Matt + Peasley went ashore to report by cable to his owners he discovered that + Cappy Ricks had provided him with a cargo of nitrate for Makaweli. + </p> + <p> + “What did I tell you, sir?” Mr. Murphy growled when the captain informed + him of the owners' orders. “I tell you, sir, the dirtiest cargo Cappy + Ricks can find is too good for us. Praise be, the worst we can get at + Makaweli is a sugar cargo.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy's grudge against nitrate lay in the annoyance incident to + taking on the cargo properly. Nitrate is very heavy and cannot, like + sugar, be loaded flush with the hatches, thus rendering shifting of the + cargo impossible. In loading nitrate a stout platform must be erected + athwart ship, above the keelsons, in order that the foundation of the + cargo may be laid level; for, as the sacked nitrate is piled, the pile + must be drawn in gradually until the sides meet in a peak like a roof. It + must then be braced and battened securely with heavy timbers from each + side of the ship, in order that the dead weight may be held in the center + of the ship and keep her in trim. Woe to the ship that shifts a cargo of + nitrate in a heavy gale; for it is a tradition of the sea that, once a + vessel rolls her main yard under, she will not roll it back, and + ultimately is posted at Lloyd's as missing. + </p> + <p> + When the cargo was out Mr. Murphy went ashore and purchased a lot of + Chinese punk, which he burned in the hold, with the hatches battened down, + while Mr. MacLean, who had once been a druggist's clerk, and who, by the + way, had concluded to stay by the ship, sloshed down the decks with an + aromatic concoction mixed by a local apothecary. The remnant of their + spoiled stores Matt Peasley, like a true Yankee, sawed off to good + advantage on a trustful citizen of Antofagasta, and credited the ship with + the proceeds; after which he got his nitrate aboard and squared away for + the Hawaiian Islands. + </p> + <p> + The run to Makaweli was very slow, for the ship was logy with the grass + and barnacles on her bottom. At Makaweli he found a sugar cargo awaiting + him for discharge at Seattle; and, thanks to the northwest trades at her + quarter, the Retriever wallowed home reasonably fast. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. INSULT ADDED TO INJURY + </h2> + <p> + When Matt Peasley's report of that long voyage reached the Blue Star + Navigation Company it was opened by Mr. Skinner, who, finding no letter + enclosed, had a clerk check and verify it, and then pass it on to old + Cappy Ricks. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the letter that came with this report, Skinner?” Cappy piped. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't enclose one, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “Im-possible!” + </p> + <p> + “All of Captain Peasley's communications with this office since he entered + our employ have been by wire.” + </p> + <p> + “But—dad-burn the fellow, Skinner—why doesn't he write and + tell us something?” + </p> + <p> + “About what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, about his ship, his voyage—any old thing. An owner likes to + have a report on his property once in a while, doesn't he? Unless we + happen to charter the Retriever for a cargo to her home port, you know + very well, Skinner, we may not see her for years. Besides, I've never seen + the man Peasley, and if he'd only write now and then I could get a line on + him from his letters. I can always tell a fool by the letter he writes, + Skinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” Skinner replied. “Peasley must be a wise man, because he + never writes at all. The only specimen of that fellow's handwriting I've + ever seen is his signature on the drafts he draws against us. You will + notice that he has even engaged a stenographer—at his own expense, + so the clerk informs me—to typewrite his statement of account.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that explains it, Skinner. The big-fisted brute can't write a hand + that anybody could read. But, still, he should have dictated a letter, + Skinner. The least he might have done was to say: 'Enclosed herewith find + my report of disbursements for last voyage.' And then he could have + slipped in some mild complaint about the creosote, the trouble he had in + getting a crew, and so on. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see why you complain about a lack of correspondence, sir,” Mr. + Skinner protested. “For my part, I think it a profound relief to have a + captain that isn't writing or wiring in complaints about slow dispatch in + loading or discharging, his private feuds with marine cooks and walking + delegates from the Sailors' Union. Confound these fellows that are always + unloading a cargo of woe on their owners! It strikes me that they're + trying to square themselves for incompetence.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you, Skinner. But then, all the Thomaston Peasleys were + quick-tempered and wouldn't be imposed on; and I hate to think I've picked + the only one of the tribe who will dog it and never let a peep out of + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Mr. Skinner. “I see! You want him to start something with you, + eh?” + </p> + <p> + Cappy evaded this blunt query, however, and turned his attention to the + report. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he said. “I'm blessed if he hasn't anticipated the very question + I should have asked. Here's a footnote in red ink: 'Decided not to carry + third mate. Two mates ample.' And so two mates are ample, Skinner, though + I used to humor Cap'n Noah with three. This confirms me in the belief that + Peasley must be a young man, Skinner, and not afraid to stand a watch + himself if necessary. And here's another footnote: 'Chief Mate Michael J. + Murphy very gallantly declined to leave when he smelled the creosote, and + was a tower of strength when it came to stowing the nitrate. He holds an + unlimited mate's license, is sober, intelligent, courageous, honest and a + hard worker. He goes up for his master's license this week!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah-h-h!” Cappy Ricks looked up, smiling. “Skinner,” he declared, “it is + as hard to keep a good man down as it is for a camel to enter the Kingdom + of Heaven—I mean for a rich man to enter a camel—bother! I + mean you can't keep a good man down, Skinner. And this is the reason: The + first mate, Murphy, wanted to leave, but his loyalty would not permit it. + Hence the man Peasley must be a good, fair, decent man, to inspire such + loyalty. He is, and this report proves it. His action in bringing Murphy + to our attention indicates appreciation and a sense of justice. Good! + Skinner, make a note of the qualifications of Michael J. Murphy for a + master's berth and give him the first opening.” + </p> + <p> + He returned to a perusal of the report. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Harump-h-h-h! 'Credit by skipper's rake-off on stores, and so on, + $57.03.' Skinner, that proves the man Peasley is too decent and honest to + accept a commission from the thieves who supply his vessel, because he + knows that if they give him a commission they'll only tack it on to the + bill, where he can't see it. Well! All the Thomaston Peasleys were honest, + Skinner. No thanks to him. Still, it's a shame to give him another rough + deal, for apparently he has—er—many—er—commendable + qualities. Still—er—Skinner, I've just got to have a letter + from the man Peasley, if it is only a letter of resignation. Get him + another dirty cargo, Skinner, the dirtier the better.” + </p> + <p> + The dirtiest cargo Mr. Skinner could think of, with the exception of a + load of creosoted piling, was another cargo of the same. So he scoured the + market and finally he found one on Puget Sound, whereupon he sent Matt + Peasley a telegram ordering him to tow to the Ranier Mill and Lumber + Company's dock at Tacoma, and load for Callao. At the same time he wired + the Ranier people requesting them to be ready to furnish cargo to the + Retriever the following day—this on the strength of a telegram from + Matt Peasley received the previous day informing his owners that he was + discharged and awaiting orders. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. RUMORS OF WAR + </h2> + <p> + When four days had elapsed the manager of the Ranier mill wired the Blue + Star Navigation Company that the Retriever had not yet appeared at their + dock. + </p> + <p> + Now four days wasted means something to a big barkentine like the + Retriever; and in the absence of any excuse for the delay Cappy Ricks + promptly came to the conclusion that Matt Peasley was ashore in Seattle, + disporting himself after the time-honored custom of deep-sea sailors home + from a long cruise. There could be no other reason for such flagrant + inattention to orders; for, had the man Peasley been ill, the mate, + Murphy, whom the captain vouched for as sober and intelligent, would have + had his superior sent to a hospital and wired the office for orders. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” said Cappy, “send in a stenographer.” + </p> + <p> + When the girl appeared Cappy Ricks dictated this wire: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Captain Matthew Peasley, + Master Barkentine Retriever, + Colman Dock, Seattle, Washington. + + Are you drunk, dead or asleep? You have your orders. Obey + them P.D.Q. or turn over command to Chief Mate Murphy. + + Alden P. Ricks. +</pre> + <p> + “There!” he shrilled. “I've signed my name to it. Sign a telegram Blue + Star Navigation Company and these infernal skippers think a clerk sent it; + but when they know the boss is on to them they'll jump lively. Bring me + the answer to that as soon as it comes, Skinner.” + </p> + <p> + However, the answer did not come that day. Indeed, the next day had almost + dragged to a close before Mr. Skinner appeared with this telegraphic bomb: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Alden P. Ricks, + 258 California St., + San Francisco. + + Neither! Been waiting my turn to go on dry dock. On now. + Didn't reply yesterday because too busy driving toothpicks in + vessel's bottom to plug up wormholes. If Murphy hadn't hauled + into fresh water last time on Grays Harbor while I was in + Seattle getting my ticket, her bottom would look like a + colander now. Sixteen months in the water. You ought to be + ashamed to treat a good staunch ship like that. Off dock day + after to-morrow; will tow to Tacoma immediately thereafter. + Meantime expect apology for insulting telegram. + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + Sixteen months without dry-docking! Why, her bottom must look like the + devil! Cappy Ricks gazed long and earnestly at his general manager. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” he said, “you're an ass! Why was not this vessel dry-docked + before you sent her to Antofagasta?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner lost his temper. + </p> + <p> + “Because I didn't send her to Antofagasta,” he replied sharply. “You did! + And the reason she wasn't docked is because there isn't a dock on Grays + Harbor. If you wouldn't interfere in the shipping, Mr. Ricks, and spoil my + plans to satisfy your personal whims, the vessel would never have gone on + that long voyage without being cleaned and painted.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” Cappy half screamed. “It's a disgrace! Not another word, sir! + Not another peep out of you. Why didn't you order the man Peasley to dock + her? Why did you leave the decision to him? He knew his vessel was foul—he + thought we ought to know it, also; and naturally he expected that when we + ordered him to Seattle we would have made arrangements to put him on dry + dock. Instead of which he had to make them himself; and I'm shown up as a + regular, infernal—er—er—baboon! Yes, sir! Regular + baboon! Nice spectacle you've made of me, getting me into a scrape where I + have to apologize to my own captain! Baboon! Huh! Baboon! Yes; you're the + baboon!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can't think of everything, Mr. Ricks—” + </p> + <p> + “Everything! Good Lord, man, if you'd only think of something! Send in a + stenographer.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner rang for the girl and retired in high dudgeon, while Cappy + Ricks smote his corrugated brow and brought forth the following: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Captain Matthew Peasley, + Master Barkentine Retriever, + Hall's Dry Dock, Eagle Harbor, Wash. + + “Yes; that was a grave oversight sending you to Antofagasta + without docking you first. Express my appreciation of Murphy's + forethought in killing some of the worms. Am not kind of owner + that lets a ship go to glory to make dividends. Keep your + vessel in top-notch shape at all times, though I realize this + instruction unnecessary to you. Give the old girl all that is + coming to her, including two coats X. & Y. copper paint. + Replace all planking that looks suspicious. + + Alden P. Ricks. +</pre> + <p> + “I guess that's friendly enough,” he soliloquized. “I think he'll + understand. I don't have to crawl in the dirt to let him know I'm sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy had recovered his composure by the following morning and was + addressing Mr. Skinner as “Skinner, my dear boy,” when another telegram + from Matt Peasley created a very distinct variation in his mental compass. + It ran as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Alden P. Ricks, + 258 California St. + San Francisco. + + X. & Y. copper paint no good. That brand used last time; hence + worms got to her quickly. Giving her two coats O. & Z. Costs + more, but does the business. Renewed about a dozen planks. + Repair bill about offsets profit on that infernal nitrate. + Your apology accepted, but do not say that again! + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + “'Your apology is accepted!'” Cappy's voice rose, shrill with anger. “Why, + the infernal—er—er—porpoise! Me apologize to a man I + employ! By jingo, I'd fire him first! Yes, sir—fire him like that!” + The old man snapped his fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Really, Skinner, I don't know what I'm going to do about the man Peasley. + I want to befriend him, because he's one of my own people, so to speak; + but I greatly fear, Skinner, I shall have to rough him. Here he is, + disputing with me—with me, Skinner—the relative merits of + copper paint. And not only disputing, sir, but disobeying my specific + instructions. Also, he permits himself the luxury of criticism. Well! I'll + not fire him this time; but, by the gods, I'll give him a blowing-up he'll + remember. Skinner, send in a stenographer.” + </p> + <p> + “Take letter,” the old man ordered presently, and proceeded to dictate: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Captain Matthew Peasley, + Master Barkentine Retriever, + Care Rainier M. & L. Co., + Tacoma, Washington. + + Sir:—Your night letter of the fifth is before me and treasured + for its unparalleled effrontery. + + Please be advised that in future, when an extraordinary outlay + of cash for your vessel's accounts is contemplated, this office + should first be consulted. When, in your judgment, your vessel + requires docking, repairs, new spars, canvas, and so on, you + will apprise us before proceeding to run up a bill of expense + on your owners. Your business is to navigate your vessel. + Spending money judiciously is a fine art which no sailor, to my + knowledge, has ever acquired. + + Though admitting that the vessel needed docking, I maintain you + should have wired us of that fact, whereupon we would have + ordered you to the dry dock patronized by this company. It is + customary for owners to express a preference for dry docks and + copper paint; and in presuming to go counter to my specific + instructions in the matter of paint you are prejudicing your + future prospects with this company. + + Another exhibition of your arrogance, impudence, general bad + manners and lack of knowledge of the ethics of your profession + will result in prompt dismissal from the service of the Blue + Star Navigation Company. + + Yours, and so on, + Alden P. Ricks, President +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. WAR! + </h2> + <p> + The receipt of Cappy Ricks' letter actually frightened Matt Peasley for + about thirty seconds. Then he reread the last paragraph. Like a dutiful + servant he forgave Cappy the letter's reference to arrogance, impudence + and general bad manners; but the reference to his lack of knowledge of the + ethics of his profession made him fighting mad. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks might just as well have passed him the supreme insult of the + seas: “Aw, go buy a farm!” He showed the letter to Mr. Murphy. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's adding insult to injury!” the mate declared sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + The youthful master threw up both hamlike hands in token of complete + surrender and profound disgust. + </p> + <p> + “There's the gratitude of an owner!” he raved. “He wires me my loading + orders and never says a word about docking—though as managing owner + it's up to him to know when the vessel needs docking. I can't plan her + comings and goings so that at the proper time she'll find herself at a + port with a dry dock. Of course when he wired me my loading orders I + realized he wasn't going to dock me; so I took matters into my own hands. + Why, Mike, I wouldn't skipper a ship so foul she can hardly answer her + helm. How could I know he'd forgotten she needed docking? I'm not a mind + reader.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he's been so busy hunting another dirty cargo for us he hadn't + time to think of the vessel,” Mr. Murphy sneered, and added: “The dirty + old skin-flint!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll just tell Cappy Ricks where to head in!” Matt stormed. “Let + him fire me if he wants to. I don't care to sail a ship—particularly + a dirty ship—for any man who thinks I don't know my business. Mike, + I'm going to send him a telegram that'll burn his meddling old fingers.” + </p> + <p> + “Give him hell for me!” pleaded Mr. Murphy. “If he fires you I'll quit, + too.” + </p> + <p> + The result of this colloquy was that Cappy Ricks received this night + letter the following morning: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Alden P. Ricks, + 258 California St., + San Francisco. + + Referring your letter. Men that taught me nautical ethics + expected things done without orders, minus thanks for doing + them well, plus abuse for doing them poorly. Regard your + criticism as out of place. Am not the seventh son of a seventh + son. How could I know you had overlooked fact that vessel + needed docking? Your business to plan my voyages to get me to + dry-dock port at least once a year. When you wired loading + orders, concluded you were cheap owner; hence decided dock her + without orders. Expect to be fired sooner or later, but will + leave good ship behind me so my successor cannot say, “Peasley + let her run down.” Had I waited orders, vessel would have been + ruined. Yet you have not sufficient grace to express your + thanks. Had I not acted in this emergency, you would have + fired me later for incompetence, and blacklisted me for not + telling you what you know you ought to know without being told. + + Referring copper paint, I know from practical experience which + brand is best; you know only what paint dealer tells you. Will + not stand abuse for knowing my business and attending to it + without instructions from landlubber! When you appointed me + you said remember speed synonymous with dividends in shipping + business. How can I make fast passages with whiskers two feet + long on my keel? Send new flying jib and spanker next loading + port. Send new skipper, too, if you feel that way about it. + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + “Well, Skinner,” Cappy Ricks declared, “this is the first time a skipper + in my employ ever talked back—and it'll be the last. I've had enough + of this fellow's impudence, Skinner. He's right at that—blast him—but + he's too much of a sea lawyer; and I won't have any employee of mine + telling me how to run my business. Send in a stenographer.” + </p> + <p> + When the stenographer entered Cappy Ricks said: + </p> + <p> + “Ahem-m! Harump-h-h-h! Take telegram: 'Captain Matthew Peasley, care + Rainier Mill and Lumber Company, Tacoma, Washington. You're fired! Ricks.' + Ahem! Huh! Har-ump! Take 'nother telegram: 'Mr. Michael J. Murphy, First + Mate Barkentine Retriever'—same address as Peasley—'Accept + this telegram as your formal appointment to command of our barkentine, + Retriever, vice Matthew Peasley, discharged this day; forwarding to-morrow + certificate of change of master.' Sign that: 'Blue Star Navigation + Company, per Alden P. Ricks,' and get both telegrams on the wire right + away.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy turned to Mr. Skinner and chuckled sardonically. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet that will gravel the man Peasley,” he declared. “There's nothing + harder on a captain than being fired, and succeeded by his own mate—particularly + after he has so recently recommended that mate! Peasley will be wild—the + pup!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Mr. Skinner replied, “appointing Mr. Murphy certainly has this + advantage,—he's there on the ground and we are thus spared the + expense of sending a man from here.” + </p> + <p> + “That's one of the reasons why I appointed him—one of three very + excellent reasons, in fact. Now we'll wait and see what the man Peasley + has to say to that telegram.” + </p> + <p> + They had to wait about two hours, and this was what Matt Peasley had to + say: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Many thanks. The second mate and the cook quit the minute + they discovered it was to be another cargo of creosoted piling; + and now that I am fired Mr. Murphy has concluded that he might + as well quit also. Will stick by ship, however, until you send + my successor; meantime loading continues as usual.” + </pre> + <p> + “Well, that's what the man Peasley says!” Cappy snapped. “Murphy's quit, + eh? Well, I guess Mr. Murphy hadn't received my telegram when Peasley sent + this message. It'll take more than a cargo of creosoted piling to keep + Murphy out of the master's cabin when he hears from me.” + </p> + <p> + The stenographer entered with another telegram. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” Cappy remarked, and rubbed his hands together in pleased + anticipation. “I dare say this is from Mr. Murphy.” + </p> + <p> + It was; and this is what the loyal Murphy had to say: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I thank you for the consideration. Very sweet of you; but I + wouldn't work for you again on a bet. You couldn't hand me a + ripe peach! Master or mate, creosote tastes the same to me. + At Captain Peasley's request am staying by vessel until new + master arrives and hires new mate. Would have stuck by vessel + for Old Man's sake if you'd slipped us cargo of uncrated + rattlesnakes; but since I encouraged him to tell you things for + good of your soul and you fired him for it I must decline to + profit by his misfortune.” + </pre> + <p> + Silently Cappy Ricks folded that telegram and laid it on his desk; his + head sagged forward on his breast and he fell to meditating deeply. + Finally he looked up and eyed Mr. Skinner over the rims of his spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” he said solemnly, “do you realize, my boy, that we have two + extremely remarkable men on the barkentine Retriever?” + </p> + <p> + “They are certainly most remarkably deficient in respect to their + superiors, though in all probability exceedingly capable seamen,” Mr. + Skinner answered sympathetically, for he had great veneration for the + creator of the pay roll. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” Cappy replied sadly; “but then, you know, Skinner, the good Lord + must certainly hate a bootlicker! Skinner, I simply cannot afford to lose + those two damned scoundrels in the Retriever. They're good men! And a good + man who knows he's good will not take any slack from man or devil; so I + cannot afford to lose those two. Skinner, I've got myself into an awful + mess. Here I've been running by dead reckoning and now I'm on the rocks! + What'll I do, Skinner? I'm licked; but, dang it all, sir, I can't admit + it, can I? Isn't there some way to referee this scrap and call it a draw?” + </p> + <p> + “I see no way out of it now except to send another captain to Tacoma.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” he declared, “you're absolutely no use to me in an emergency. + When I made you my general manager, on a bank president's salary, I + thought I'd be able to take it easy for the rest of my life.” He wagged + his head sadly. “And what's the result? I work harder than ever. Skinner, + if I hadn't any more imagination than you possess I'd be out there on the + corner of California and Market Streets peddling lead pencils this minute. + Leave this problem to me, Skinner. I suppose I'll find a way out of it, + with entire honor to all concerned. Holy sailor!” he added. “But that man + Murphy is loyal—and loyalty is a pretty scarce commodity these days, + let me tell you!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. CAPPY FORCES AN ARMISTICE + </h2> + <p> + During the week that succeeded, Cappy Ricks did not once mention the + subject of the Retriever and her recalcitrant skipper and mate; and Mr. + Skinner argued from this that all was well. Finally one day Cappy came + into the office and paused beside the general manager's desk. He was + grinning like a boy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Skinner,” he piped. “I've just come from the Merchants' Exchange + and I see by the blackboard that our Retriever cleared for Antofagasta + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” Mr. Skinner replied politely. “So you found a captain for her. + Whom did you send?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody,” the old man cackled. “Matt Peasley took her out, and the manager + of the Rainier mill wires me that Murphy went with him as chief kicker. + What do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'm—er—satisfied if you are, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can bet I'm satisfied. If I wasn't I'd have a revenue cutter + out after the man Peasley and his mate right now. By golly, Skinner,” he + piped, and slapped his wizened flank, “I tell you I've worked this deal + pretty slick, if I do say it myself. And all on dead reckoning—dead + reckoning, and not a single day of demurrage!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! So you wired Peasley and the mate and asked them to go back to work + and forget they were discharged?” Mr. Skinner suggested witheringly. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, on my word, you grow worse every day. You've been with me, man + and boy, twenty-odd years, and in all that time you never saw anybody + cover me with blood, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And you never will. Why, I managed this affair by simply forgetting all + about it! When you're in a jam, Skinner, always let the other fellow do + the talking. I just sat tight until I had a telegram from the man Peasley, + informing me that the vessel would be loaded in two days and that his + successor had not appeared as yet. I threw that telegram in my + wastebasket; and when the vessel was loaded I had another telegram from + Peasley, saying that the vessel was loaded, that his successor was still + missing, and the mill manager was kicking and insisting that the ship be + hauled away from the dock to make room for a steam schooner which wanted + to load. So I filed that telegram in the wastebasket also. It was a night + letter, delivered in the morning. + </p> + <p> + “When Peasley didn't get an answer by noon he wired again, saying that, as + a favor to me, he would haul the Retriever into the stream, but would + accept no responsibility for delay thereafter. He said further that, as a + courtesy to me and his successor, he was shipping a crew that day in order + that there might be no delay in sailing when the new captain arrived; so I + thought I had better reply to that telegram, Skinner—and I did!” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say, Mr. Ricks?” + </p> + <p> + “I said: 'Please do not annoy me with your telegrams. You were fired a + week ago, but it seems difficult for you to realize that fact. If + demurrage results through my failure to get new skipper there in time, + that is no skin off your nose. Your pay goes on until you are relieved, + and you will be relieved when I get good and ready.' That telegram did the + business, Skinner. He received it the day before yesterday and yesterday + he towed out!” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks burst into a shrill senile cackle that was really good to + hear. As they grow old most men lose that capacity for a hearty laugh, but + Cappy's perversity had kept him young at heart. The tears of mirth + cascaded down his seamed old countenance now, and he had to sit down and + have his laugh out. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thunder!” he panted. “Really, Skinner—there's so much fun in + business I wonder why a man can retire—just because he's made his + pile! Skinner, I had it on the man Peasley a thousand miles—and he + never guessed it! Dear, dear me! You see, Skinner, when he wired me he + would not accept responsibility for demurrage to the vessel after she was + loaded and hauled into the stream, he forgot that he had to accept + responsibility for the vessel himself until his successor should arrive! + </p> + <p> + “Of course, the man Murphy could quit any time he desired; but if the + skipper deserted the ship before being properly relieved, and then + something happened to the vessel and I preferred charges against him, the + inspectors might be induced to revoke his license—and he realized + that. The knowledge made him hopping mad, Skinner; and when he got my + telegram I knew he would begin to figure out some plan to make me mad! + And, of course, I knew Murphy would help him out—the Irish are + imaginative and vindictive; and—oh, dear me, Skinner—read + that!” And Cappy handed his general manager the following telegram: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + You are right. I will be relieved when I get good and ready, + and I will not be ready until I get back from Antofagasta. + Shipped crew yesterday afternoon. All arrived drunk. Next + morning all hands sober. Realizing predicament, riot resulted. + Fearing lose crew, Murphy and I manhandled and locked in + fo'castle. When your telegram arrived it found Murphy minus + front tooth, myself black eye. Can stand injury, but not + insult. Hence you are stuck with us for another voyage, + whether you want us or not. Will have towed out by time you + receive this. Go to Halifax! + + Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Skinner's face was cold and austere as he handed this telegram back to + Cappy. + </p> + <p> + “So you made peace with honor, eh?” he sneered. + </p> + <p> + “Peace your grandmother!” Cappy chirped. “This war goes on until I get a + letter from the man Peasley. Skinner, he and Murphy think they've done + something wonderfully brilliant. When I wired him he would be relieved + when I got good and ready it did him an awful lot of good to throw the + words back in my face. Sure, Skinner! They think they're giving Cappy + Ricks the merry ha-ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, of course, sir,”' said Mr. Skinner, “if this sort of horseplay is + your fun—if it's your notion of business—I have no comment. + You own fifteen-sixteenths of the Retriever, and you can afford to pay for + your fancies; but if it was the last act of my life I'd fire that man + Peasley in Callao and let him get home as best he could.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I know,” Cappy replied bitterly. “You fired him in Cape Town once—and + how did he come home? He came home in the cabin of the Retriever—that's + how he came home; and the Terrible Swede I sent to thrash him and fire him + came home under hatches. Yes; you'd do a lot of things, Skinner—in + your mind.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner pounded his desk savagely. Cappy's retort made him boiling + mad. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll bet I'd do something,” he rasped. “I'd make that bucko suffer + or I'd know the reason why.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, that's just what we're going to do—just what we're doing, + in fact. One of my ancestors sailed with the late John Paul Jones and ever + since the Ricks' family motto has been: 'I have not yet begun to fight.' + Now listen to reason, Skinner. The Retriever just came off dry-dock, + didn't she? Well, it stands to reason she was dirty after that last cargo + of creosoted piling; and it stands to reason, also, that the man Peasley + slicked her up with white paint until she looked like an Easter bride. A + Scandinavian doesn't give a hoot if his vessel is tight, well found and + ready for sea; but a Yankee takes a tremendous pride in his ship and likes + to keep her looking like a yacht. And just think, Skinner, how the man + Peasley must have felt when he came off dry dock, all clean and nice, and + then had to slop her up with another cargo of creosoted piling? Just think + of that, Skinner!” and again he commenced his insane cackle. + </p> + <p> + “I have other, and more important things to think about,” Mr. Skinner + retorted icily. As a business man he was opposed to levity in the office. + “What are your plans with reference to the Retriever? Do you wish to bring + her back from Antofagasta in ballast?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly not. Hunt a cargo for her, Skinner. We might just as well + let the man Peasley know that though he's gone he's not forgotten. Use the + cable freely and see if you can't pick up something for the return trip + that will make those two firebrands sick at the stomach.” + </p> + <p> + A month later Mr. Skinner stepped into Cappy's sanctum. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he announced. “I've got a return cargo for the Retriever.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you got?” Cappy demanded anxiously; and Mr. Skinner told him. + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Cappy incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” Mr. Skinner assured him. + </p> + <p> + Cappy's laughter testified to his hearty approval. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, my dear boy,” he cried. “I don't know what I'd do without you.” + </p> + <p> + And then he laid his wicked old head on his desk and laughed until he + wept. Indeed, Mr. Skinner so far forgot his code as to laugh with him. + </p> + <p> + “We'll stink those two vagabonds—those maritime outlaws—out of + the ship,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. THE WAR IS RENEWED + </h2> + <p> + The belief that they had come off victorious in their skirmish with Cappy + Ricks cheered Matt Peasley and his mate for the first two weeks out from + Puget Sound; after which the creosote commenced to season their food, and + then the victory began to take on the general appearance of a vacuum. + However, thanks to a clean keel and fair winds, they made a smashing + passage and their sufferings were not unduly prolonged. + </p> + <p> + Immediately on his arrival at Antofagasta the young skipper reported by + cable to his owners, thereby eliciting the following reply from Cappy + Ricks: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “You stole ship. If you value your ticket bring her back with + cargo agent provides.” + </pre> + <p> + Naturally this somewhat cryptic cablegram roused Matt Peasley's curiosity. + He could not rest until he had interviewed the agent—and after that + sop to his inquisitiveness he returned to the Retriever a broken man. The + loyal and disgusted Murphy read the trouble in the master's face. + </p> + <p> + “What new deviltry's afoot now, Matt?” he demanded, in his eagerness and + sympathy forgetting the respect due his superior. + </p> + <p> + “Green hides, Mike!” the skipper answered, in his distress failing to + notice the mate's faux pas and making one himself. “Green hides, old pal; + and they stink something horrible. Back to Seattle with the dirty mess, + and then another cargo of creosoted—” + </p> + <p> + “King's X!” yelled Mr. Murphy. “I crossed my fingers the minute your face + appeared over the rail. I quit—and I quit as soon as this piling is + out. I tell you I won't keep company with green hides. No, sir; I won't. I + tell you I will—not—do it! Why, we might as well have a dead + hog in the hold! Captain Matt, I hate to throw you down in a foreign port; + but this—is absolutely—the finish!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you value your ticket, Mike?” the captain queried ominously. + </p> + <p> + “What's a ticket when a man's lost his self-respect?” Mr. Murphy raved. + </p> + <p> + Matt handed him Cappy's cablegram and the mate read it. + </p> + <p> + “I think that bet goes double, Mike,” the skipper warned him. “You signed + for the round trip. I've got to go through—and there's strength in + numbers.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Murphy reluctantly, “I suppose I do attach a certain—er—sentimental + value to my ticket.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would. Cappy's got us by the short hair, Mike; and the only + thing to do is to fly to it, with all sails set. We must never let on he's + given us anything out of the ordinary.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy shivered; for, as Cappy had remarked to Mr. Skinner, the mate + was Irish, hence imaginative. He imagined he smelled the green hides + already, and quite suddenly he gagged and sprang for the rail. Poor + fellow! He had stood much of late and his stomach was a trifle sensitive + from a diet of creosote straight. + </p> + <p> + Somehow they got the awful cargo aboard, though, at that, there were not + sufficient hides to half load her; in consequence of which all hands + realized that Cappy had merely given them this dab of freight to sicken + them. They cursed him all the way back to Seattle, where the crew quit the + minute the vessel was made fast to the dock. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. CAPPY SEEKS PEACE + </h2> + <p> + “Here's a telegram for you, sir,” Mr. Murphy remarked when Matt Peasley + came aboard after cashing a draft on the Blue Star Navigation Company to + pay off his crew. It proved to be from Cappy Ricks and said merely: + </p> + <p> + “Discharge that cargo of hides or take the consequences!” + </p> + <p> + “The old sinner thought I'd dog it, I suppose,” Matt sneered, as he passed + the message to Mr. Murphy, who shivered as he read it. “I guess you're + elected, Mike,” the skipper continued. “The second mate has quit. However, + it isn't going to be very hard on you this time. I was speaking to the + skipper of that schooner in the berth ahead of us, and he gave me a recipe + for killing the perfume of a cargo of green hides.” + </p> + <p> + “If he'd given it to us in Antofagasta, I'd name a ship after him some + day,” Mr. Murphy mourned. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we've gotten it in time to be of some use,” Matt declared. “You + don't suppose I'm going to let this old snoozer Ricks get away with the + notion that he put one over on us, do you? Shall we haul Old Glory down? + No! Never! I'll just switch off the laughing gas on Cappy Ricks,” and the + young skipper went ashore and wired his managing owner as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Green hides are the essence of horror if you do not know how + to handle them. Fortunately I do. Pour water on a green hide + and you muzzle the stink. I judge from your last telegram you + thought you handed me something.” + </pre> + <p> + When Cappy Ricks got that telegram he flew into a rage and refused to + believe Matt Peasley's statement until he had first called up a dealer in + hides and confirmed it. The entire office staff wondered all that day what + made Cappy so savage. + </p> + <p> + By the following day, however, Cappy's naturally optimistic nature had + reasserted itself. He admitted to himself that he had fanned out, but + still the knowledge brought him some comfort. + </p> + <p> + “He's walloped me so,” Cappy soliloquized, “he just can't help writing and + crowing about it. If I didn't do anything else I bet I've pried a letter + out of him. It certainly will be a comfort to see something except a + telegram and a statement of account from that fellow.” + </p> + <p> + However, when the report of the voyage arrived, Mr. Skinner reported that + it contained no letter. Cappy's face reflected his disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you'll have to go stronger than green hides to get a yelp out of + that fellow,” Mr. Skinner predicted. + </p> + <p> + “Why, there isn't anything stronger than a cargo of green hides, Skinner,” + Cappy declared thoughtfully. He clawed his whiskers a moment. Then: “What + have you got for her on the Sound, Skinner?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing nasty, sir. We'll have to give him a regular cargo this time—that + is, unless he quits. I've got a cargo for Sydney, ready at our own mill at + Port Hadlock.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he hasn't resigned yet,” Cappy declared; “so we might as well beat + him to it. Wire him, Skinner, to tow to our mill at Port Hadlock and load + for Sydney. If he believes we're willing to call this thing a dead heat he + may conclude to stick. Tell him this is a nice cargo.” Again Cappy clawed + his whiskers. “Sydney, eh?” he said musingly. “That's nice! We can send + him over to Newcastle from there to pick up a cargo of coal, and maybe + he'll come home afire! If we can't hand him a stink, Skinner, we'll put a + few gray hairs in his head.” + </p> + <p> + These instructions Mr. Skinner grudgingly complied with; and Matt Peasley, + with his hatches wide open and buckets of punk burning in the hold to + dispel the lingering fragrance of his recent cargo—concluding that, + on the whole, he and Mr. Murphy had come through the entire affair very + handsomely indeed—towed down to Hadlock and commenced to take on + cargo. If Cappy Ricks was willing to declare a truce then Matt Peasley + would declare one too. + </p> + <p> + Matt's peaceful acquiescence in his owner's program merely served to + arouse Cappy Ricks' abnormal curiosity. The more he thought of Matt + Peasley the greater grew his desire for a closer scrutiny. The most + amazing man in the world had been in his employ a year and a half, and as + yet they had never met; unless the Retriever should happen to be loaded + for San Francisco years might elapse before they should see each other; + and now that he had attained to his allotted three score years and ten + Cappy decided that he could no longer gamble on the future. + </p> + <p> + He summoned Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, my dear boy,” he announced with the naive simplicity that made + him so lovable. “I suppose it's very childish of me, but I have a + tremendous desire to see this extraordinary fellow Peasley.” + </p> + <p> + “You can afford to satisfy your slightest whim, Mr. Ricks,” he replied. + “I'll load her for San Francisco after she returns from Australia. I + daresay if he ever gets through the Golden Gate he'll call up at the + office.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, I can't wait that long. Many things may happen. Ahem! + Harump-h-h-h! Wire the man Peasley, Skinner, to have his photograph taken + and forwarded to me immediately charging expense.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir,” Mr. Skinner responded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be keel-hauled and skull-dragged,” Matt Peasley declared to + Mr. Murphy. “Here's a telegram from the owners demanding my photograph.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy read the amazing message, scratched his raven poll, and + declared his entire willingness to be damned. + </p> + <p> + “It's a trap,” he announced presently. “Don't send it. Matt, you look + about twenty years old and for the next few years, if you expect to work + under the Blue Star flag, you must remember your face isn't your fortune. + You've got to be pickled in salt for twenty years to please Cappy Ricks. + If he sees your photograph he'll fire you, Matt. I know that old + crocodile. All he wants is an excuse to give you the foot, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “But he's ordered me to send it, Mike. How am I going to get out of it?” + </p> + <p> + As has been stated earlier in this tale, Mr. Murphy had an imagination. + </p> + <p> + “Go over into the town, sir,” he said, “and in any photograph gallery you + can pick up a picture of some old man. Write your name across it and send + it to Cappy. He'll be just as happy, then, as though he had good sense.” + </p> + <p> + “By George, I'll just do that!” Matt declared, and forthwith went ashore. + </p> + <p> + He sought the only photographer in Port Hadlock. At the entrance to the + shop he found a glass case containing samples of the man's art, and was + singularly attracted to the photograph of a spruce little old gentleman in + a Henry Clay collar, long mutton-chop whiskers, and spectacles. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, to Matt's practiced eye, this individual seemed to savor of a + Down-Easter. He was just the sort of man one might expect to bear the name + of Matthew Peasley; so the captain mounted the stairs and sought the + proprietor, from whom he purchased the picture in question for the + trifling sum of fifty cents. Then he bore it away to the Retriever, + scrawled his autograph across the old gentleman's hip and mailed the + picture to Cappy Ricks. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. PEACE AT LAST! + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Skinner entered Cappy Ricks' office bearing an envelope marked “Photo. + Do not crush or bend!” From the announcement in the upper right-hand + corner the general manager deduced that the photograph was from Matt + Peasley. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here's Captain Peasley's picture, Mr. Ricks,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Splendid. Prompt, isn't he?” Cappy tore open the envelope, drew forth + the photograph, scrutinized it carefully and then laid it face down on his + desk, while he got out his spectacles, cleaned them carefully, adjusted + them and gazed at the photograph once more. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! Hu-m-m-m! Harump-h-h-h! Well, Skinner, life is certainly full of + glad surprises,” he announced presently, and added—“particularly + where that man Peasley is concerned. I never did see the beat of that + fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “May I see his photograph, sir?” Mr. Skinner pleaded. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” and Cappy passed it to the general manager, who glanced once + at it and smiled down whimsically at Cappy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I agree with you, Mr. Ricks,” he said. “Of all the surprises that + man Peasley has handed us, this is the greatest.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy nodded and smiled a little prescient smile. “Skinner,” he said, + “send in a stenographer. I'm going to send him a telegram.” + </p> + <p> + He did. Matt Peasley blinked when he got it, and for the first time since + he had commenced exchanging telegrams and cablegrams with the peculiar Mr. + Ricks he was thoroughly non-plussed—so much so, in fact, that he + called his right bower, Michael J. Murphy, into consultation. + </p> + <p> + “Mike,” he said, and handed the mate the telegram, “what in the world do + you suppose the old duffer means by that?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Matt, I always knew you were young, but I had no suspicion you + were a child in arms until I received your photograph.” + </pre> + <p> + “Serves you right,” the mate declared. “I told you to send the photo of an + OLD man.” + </p> + <p> + “But I did, Mike. I sent him a picture of an old pappy-guy sort of man, + with long, mutton-chop whiskers, glasses and an old-fashioned collar as + tall as the taffrail.” + </p> + <p> + “It beats my time then what he's driving at, Captain Matt. But then one + can never tell what Cappy Ricks is up to. I've heard he's a great hand to + have his little joke, so I daresay that telegram is meant for sarcasm.” + </p> + <p> + Matt had a horrifying inspiration. “I know what's wrong,” he cried + bitterly. “He thinks I'm so old I ought to be retired, and that telegram + is in the nature of a hint that a letter, asking for my resignation, is on + the way now.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—why?” Mr. Murphy stuttered, “did you send him the + picture of Methuselah himself? Heaven's sake, skipper, there's a happy + medium, you know. I meant for you to pick yourself out a man of about + fifty-five, and here you've slipped him a patriarch of ninety. Sarcasm! I + should say so.” + </p> + <p> + They stared at each other a few seconds; then Mr. Murphy had an equally + disturbing inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “By Neptune!” he suggested, “maybe you sent him the picture of somebody he + knows!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, in that case, Mike, I'm not going to hang on the hook of suspicion. + Maybe I can find out whose picture I sent,” and away Matt went up town to + the photograph gallery. When he returned ten minutes later Mr. Murphy, + sighting him a block in the offing, knew the skipper of the barkentine + Retriever for a broken man! Beyond doubt he had shipped a full cargo of + grief. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” he queried as Matt hove alongside. “Did you find out?” + </p> + <p> + Matt nodded gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” Mr. Murphy demanded peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + “Cappy Ricks!” Matt almost wailed. + </p> + <p> + “NO!” Mr. Murphy roared. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! The old scoundrel was up here three years ago, visiting this mill—you + know, Mike, he owns it—and the Retriever was here loading at the + time. He and Captain Kendall were close friends, and they went over to + that photograph shop, had their pictures taken and swapped—and like + a poor, helpless, luckless boob I had to come along and buy the sample + picture the photographer hung in his case. It never occurred to me to ask + questions—and I might have known nobody but a prominent citizen ever + gets into a show-case—” + </p> + <p> + “Glory, glory, hallelujah,” Mr. Murphy crooned in a deep, chain-locker + voice, and fled from the skipper's wrath. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, in the privacy of his cabin, Matt Peasley took his pen in + hand and wrote to Cappy Ricks: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Alden P. Ricks, + Dear Sir:— + + I herewith tender my resignation as master of the barkentine + Retriever, same to take effect on my return from Sydney—or + before I sail, if you desire. If I do not hear from you before + I sail I shall assume that it will be all right to quit when I + get back from Australia. + + I will not be twenty-three years old until the Fourth of July. + I was afraid you wouldn't trust me with a big ship like the + Retriever if you knew; so I sent you a photograph I purchased + for fifty cents from the local photographer. I guess that's + all—except that you couldn't find a better man to take my + place than Mr. Murphy. He has had the experience. + + Yours truly, + Matt Peasley. +</pre> + <p> + There were tears in his eyes as he dropped that letter into the mail box. + The Blue Star Navigation Company owned the Retriever, but—but—well + she was Matt Peasley's ship and he loved her as men learn to love their + homes. It broke his heart to think of giving her up. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” said Cappy Ricks, “I've got a letter from the man Peasley at + last; and now, by golly, I can quit and take a vacation. Send in a + stenographer.” The stenographer entered. “Take telegram—direct + message,” he ordered, and commenced to dictate: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Captain Matthew Peasley, + + Your resignation accepted. You are too almighty good for a + windjammer, Matthew. You need more room for the development of + your talent. Give Murphy the ship, with my compliments, and + tell him I've enjoyed the fight because it went to a knock-out. + Report to me at this office as soon as possible. You belong + in steam. A second mate's berth waiting for you. In a year + you will be first mate of steam; a year later you will be + master of steam, at two-fifty a month, and I will have a + four-million-foot freighter waiting for you if you make good. + The picture was a bully joke; but I could not laugh, Matt. It + is so long since I was a boy. + + Cappy. +</pre> + <p> + “Send that right away, like a good girl,” he ordered. “He's about loaded + and he may have towed out before the telegram reaches him. Or, better + still, send the message in duplicate—one copy to the mill and the + other in care of the custom-house at Port Townsend. He'll have to touch in + there to clear the ship.” + </p> + <p> + He walked into Mr. Skinner's office. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” he said, “Murphy has the Retriever, and you're in charge of the + shipping. Attend to the transfer of authority before she gets out of the + Sound.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. MATT PEASLEY MEETS A TALKATIVE STRANGER + </h2> + <p> + Cappy Ricks' telegram to Matt, in care of the mill at Port Hadlock, + arrived several hours after the Retriever, fully loaded with fir lumber, + had been snatched away from the mill dock by a tug and started on her long + tow to Dungeness, where the hawser would be cast off. It was not until the + vessel came to a brief anchorage in the strait off Port Townsend, the port + of entry to Puget Sound, and Matt went ashore to clear his ship, that the + duplicate telegram sent in care of the Collector of the Port, was handed + to him. + </p> + <p> + He read and reread it. The news it contained seemed too good to be true. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I won't clear her after all,” he announced to the deputy + collector. + </p> + <p> + The official nodded. “I didn't think you would,” he replied. “I have a + telegram from the custom-house at San Francisco, apprising me that Michael + J. Murphy has been appointed master of the Retriever, so if she's to be + cleared Captain Murphy will have to do the job.” + </p> + <p> + “He's my mate, and if you'll wait about half an hour I'll go get the old + Siwash,” Matt replied happily, and started back to the Retriever in a + hurry. He had been gone less than twenty minutes, a fact noted by the + astute Murphy, who met his superior at the rail as the latter climbed up + the Jacob's ladder. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you haven't cleared the old girl so soon, have you, sir?” he + queried. + </p> + <p> + “Read that,” Matt announced dramatically. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy read the telegram. “Bust my bob-stay!” he murmured. “The dirty + old assassin! The slimy old pile-worm! The blessed old duffer! After + treating us like dogs for a year and a half he gives me the ship, sets you + down for a two year apprenticeship in steam and says he's going to build + you a four-million-foot freighter! The scoundrelly old renegade! Why, say, + Matt, Cappy's been spilling the acid all over us and we never knew it. + Somehow, I have a notion that if we had yelled murder when he was beating + us he'd have had us both out of his employ while you'd be saying Jack + Robinson.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, Mike. But he needn't think he's going to grab two years of + my precious young life before he'll trust me with a steamer. I have an + unlimited license for sail, and if I can pass the examination for steam + before the inspectors—and I can—I'll get my license + immediately. Just consider the old boy's inconsistency, Mike. If a man can + handle a square-rigged ship he ought to be trusted with anything; yet, + when he gives me a steamer you'd think he was giving me a man's job! Fair + weather or foul, you stand on the bridge and control your vessel with the + engine room telegraph. Shucks! I wonder if that crotchety old joker thinks + it will take me two years to learn how to dock a steam schooner?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Murphy hitched his trousers, stuck his thumbs in his belt and glared + at Matt Peasley. “See here, you,” he declared, “you're a child wonder, all + right, but the trouble with you is, you hate yourself too much. Listen to + me, kid. I'm the skipper of the Retriever now and you're my friend, young + Matt Peasley, so I can talk to you as a friend. You're a pretty skookum + youth and I'd hate like everything to mix it with you, but if you start to + veto the old man's orders you may look for a fine thrashing from me when I + get back from Australia! I won't have you making a damned fool of + yourself, Matt. If you are in command of a four-million-foot freighter by + the time you're twenty-seven, you'll be the youngest skipper of steam + afloat, and you ought to be down on your marrow bones giving thanks to the + good Lord who has done so much for you, instead of planning insurrection + against Cappy Ricks. The idea!” + </p> + <p> + “But what sense is there in waiting—” + </p> + <p> + “When I refereed the scrap between you and All Hands And Feet you took my + advice, didn't you? You didn't say to me then: 'What sense is there in + waiting? Let me go in and finish the job and have done with it,' did you?” + </p> + <p> + “But this is business, Mike. For a year and a half Cappy has been having a + whole lot of fun out of me—” + </p> + <p> + “It might have been fun for him, but it came pretty near being the death + of me,” Mr. Murphy contradicted. “If that jag of green hides from + Antofagasta was a joke, beware of Cappy Ricks when he's serious. He's + serious about you, Matt. He's picked on you sight unseen, and he's going + to do something for you. He's an old man, Matt. Let him have his way and + you'll profit by it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll see what he has to say, at any rate,” Matt compromised, and + they went below, Matt to pack his sea chest and Mr. Murphy to shave and + array himself in a manner befitting the master of a big barkentine about + to present himself at the custom-house for the first time to clear his + ship. + </p> + <p> + An hour later Matt Peasley found himself sitting on his sea chest on the + cap of the wharf, watching the Retriever slipping down the strait under + command of Captain Michael J. Murphy, while a new chief mate, shipped in + Port Townsend, counted off the watches. Presently she turned a bend and + was gone; and immediately he felt like a homeless wanderer. The thought of + the doughty Murphy in that snug little cabin so long sacred to Matt + Peasley brought a pang of near jealousy to the late commander of the + Retriever; as he reflected on the two years of toil ahead of him before + men would again address him as Captain Peasley, he wondered whether the + game really would be worth the candle; for he had all of a Down-Easter's + love for a sailing ship. + </p> + <p> + He recalled to mind Mr. Murphy's favorite story of the old sailing skipper + who went into steam and who, during his very first watch on the + steamship's bridge, ordered the man at the wheel to starboard his helm, + and then forgot to tell him to steady it—the consequence being that + the helmsman held hard-a-starboard and the ship commenced to describe a + circle; whereupon the old sailing skipper got excited and screamed: “Back + that main yard!” Matt felt that should anything like that happen to him in + steam and the news should ever leak out, he would have to go back to the + Atlantic Coast rather than face the gibes of his shipmates on the Pacific. + </p> + <p> + The passenger boat from Victoria picked him up and set him down in Seattle + that night, and the following morning he boarded a train for San Francisco + to report to Cappy Ricks. + </p> + <p> + At luncheon in the dining car that day Matt Peasley found himself seated + opposite a man who had boarded the train with him at Seattle. As the young + captain plied his knife and fork he was aware that this person's gaze + rested with something more than casual interest on his—Matt's—left + forearm; whereupon the latter realized that his vis-a-vis yearned to see + more of a little decoration which, in the pride of his first voyage, Matt + had seen fit to have tattooed on the aforesaid forearm by the negro cook. + So, since he was the best-natured young man imaginable, Matt decided + presently to satiate his neighbor's curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “It's a lady climbing a ladder,” he announced composedly and drew back his + sleeve to reveal this sample of black art. “I have a shield and an eagle + on my breast and a bleeding heart, with a dagger stuck through it, on my + right forearm.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to be rude,” the other answered, flushing a little. “I + couldn't help noticing the chorus lady's shapely calves when you speared + that last pickle; so I knew you were a sailor. I concluded you were an + American sailor before I learned that you advertise the fact on your + breast, and I was wondering whether you belong in the navy or the merchant + marine.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm from blue water,” Matt replied pleasantly. “You're in the shipping + business, I take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Almost—I'm a ship, freight and marine insurance broker.” And the + stranger handed over a calling card bearing the name of Mr. Allan Hayes. + “I'm from Seattle.” + </p> + <p> + “Peasley is my name, Mr. Hayes,” Matt answered heartily, glad of this + chance acquaintance with a man with whom he could converse on a subject of + mutual interest. “I haven't any post-office address,” he added + whimsically. + </p> + <p> + “Going over to Columbia River to join your ship, I daresay,” Mr. Hayes + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I'm bound for San Francisco, to get a job in steam and work up + to a captaincy.” + </p> + <p> + “Wherein you show commendable wisdom, Mr. Peasley,” the broker answered. + “A man can get so far in a windjammer—a hundred a month in the + little coasting schooners and a hundred and twenty-five in the big vessels + running foreign—and there he sticks. In steam schooners a good man + can command two hundred dollars a month, with a chance for promotion into + a big freighter, for the reason that in steam one has more opportunity to + show the stuff that's in one.” + </p> + <p> + “How far are you going?” Matt demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I'm bound for San Francisco too.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” Matt replied, for, like most boys, he was a gregarious animal, and + Mr. Hayes seemed to be a pleasant, affable gentleman. “I suppose you know + most of the steam vessels on this coast?” he continued, anxious to turn + the conversation into channels that might be productive of information + valuable to him in his new line of endeavor. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hayes nodded. “I have to,” he said, “if I'm to do any business + negotiating charters; in fact, I'm bound to San Francisco now to charter + two steamers.” + </p> + <p> + “Freight or passenger?” + </p> + <p> + “Freight. There's nothing for a broker in a passenger vessel. I'm scouting + for two boats for the Mannheim people. You've heard of them, of course. + They own tremendous copper mines in Alaska, but they can't seem to get the + right kind of flux to smelt their ore up there; so they're going to + freight it down to their smelter in Tacoma.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. But how do you work the game to pay your office rent?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's very simple, Mr. Peasley. Their traffic manager merely calls + me up and tells me to find two ore freighters for him. He doesn't know + where to look for them, but he knows I do, and that it will not cost him + anything to engage me to find them for him. Well, I locate the vessels and + when I come to terms with the owners, and those terms are satisfactory to + my clients, I close the charter and the vessel owners pay me a commission + of two and a half per cent. on all the freight money earned under the + charter. A shipowner generally is glad to pay a broker a commission for + digging him up business for his ships—particularly when freights are + dull.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley nodded his comprehension and did some quick mental + arithmetic. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you'll make a nice little fee on those ore boats,” he said. “I + suppose it's a time charter.” + </p> + <p> + “Four years,” Mr. Hayes replied, and smiled fatly at the thought of his + income. “Of course I'd make a larger commission if the freight rate was + figured on a tonnage basis; but on long charters, like these I mention, + the ships are rented at a flat rate a day or month. Say, for instance, I + negotiate these charters at the rate of four hundred dollars a day, or + eight hundred dollars a day for the two boats. Two and a half per cent. of + eight hundred dollars is twenty dollars a day, which I will earn as + commission every day for the next four years that the vessels are not in + dry dock or laid up for repairs.” + </p> + <p> + “And you probably will earn that by one day of labor,” Matt Peasley + murmured admiringly—“perhaps one hour of actual labor!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hayes smiled again his fat smile. He shrugged. + </p> + <p> + “That's business,” he said carelessly. “An ounce of promotion is worth a + ton of horse power.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should say so, Mr. Hayes! But you'll have quite a search to find + an ore boat on the Pacific Coast. There are some coal boats running to + Coos Bay, but they're hardly big enough; and then I suppose they're kept + pretty busy in the coal trade, aren't they? It seems to me that what you + need for your business would be two of those big steel ore vessels, with + their engines astern—the kind they use on the Great Lakes.” + </p> + <p> + “That is exactly why I am going to San Francisco, Mr. Peasley. There are + on this Coast two ships such as you describe—sister ships and just + what the doctor ordered.” + </p> + <p> + “What are their names?” + </p> + <p> + “The Lion and the Unicorn.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley paused, with a forkful of provender halfway to his mouth. The + S.S. Lion, eh? Why, that was one of Cappy Ricks' vessels! He remembered + passing her off Cape Flattery once and seeing the Blue Star house flag + fluttering at the fore. + </p> + <p> + “Were they Lake boats originally?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hayes nodded. + </p> + <p> + “What are they doing out here?” + </p> + <p> + “Right after the San Francisco fire, when fir lumber jumped from a + twelve-dollar base to twenty-five, lumber freights soared accordingly,” + Hayes explained. “Vessels that had been making a little money at four + dollars a thousand feet, from Oregon and Washington ports to San + Francisco, were enabled to get ten dollars; and anything that would float + was hauled out of the bone yard and put to work. Old Man Ricks, of the + Blue Star Navigation Company, was the first to see the handwriting on the + wall; so he sneaked East and bought the Lion and the Unicorn. It was just + the old cuss's luck to have a lot of cash on hand; and he bought them + cheap, loaded them with general cargo in New York, and paid a nice + dividend on them on their very first voyage under the Blue Star flag. When + he got them on the Coast he put them into the lumber trade and they paid + for themselves within a year. + </p> + <p> + “Then, just before the panic of 1907, old Ricks unloaded the Unicorn on + the Black Butte Company for ten thousand dollars more than he paid for her—the + old scamp! He's the shrewdest trader on the whole Pacific Coast. He had no + sooner sawed the Unicorn off on the Black Butte people than the freight + market collapsed in the general crash, and ever since then the owners of + the Lion and the Unicorn have been stuck with their vessels. They're so + big it's next to impossible to keep them running coastwise in the lumber + trade during a dull period, and they're not big enough for the foreign + trade. About the only thing they could do profitably was to freight coal, + coal freights have dropped until the margin of profit is very meager; + competition is keen and for the last six months the Lion and the Unicorn + have been laid up.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley smiled. + </p> + <p> + “They'll be hungry for the business,” he said, “and I'm sailor enough to + see you'll be able to drive a bargain without much trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to get them pretty cheap,” Mr. Hayes admitted. “As you perhaps + know, a vessel deteriorates faster when laid up than she does in active + service; and an owner will do almost anything to keep her at sea, provided + he can make a modest rate of interest on her cost price or present market + value.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” Matt Peasley observed as they rose from the table. + </p> + <p> + He purchased a cigar for Mr. Hayes, and as they retired to the buffet car + to continue their acquaintance something whispered to Matt not to divulge + to this somewhat garrulous stranger the news that he was a sea captain + lately in the employ of the Blue Star Navigation Company and soon to enter + that employ again. He had learned enough to realize that Cappy's bank roll + was threatened by this man from Seattle; that with his defenses leveled, + as it were, the old gentleman would prove an easy victim unless warned of + the impending attack. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, since Matt had not sought Mr. Hayes' confidence nor accepted it + under a pledge of secrecy, he decided that there could be nothing + unethical in taking advantage of it. Plainly the broker had jumped to the + conclusion that Matt was a common sailor—above the average in point + of intelligence, but so young and unsophisticated that one need not bother + to be reserved or cautious in his presence. Some vague understanding of + this had come to Matt Peasley; hence throughout the remainder of the + journey his conversations with the broker bore on every other subject + under heaven except ships and shipowners. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. FACE TO FACE + </h2> + <p> + In his private office Cappy Ricks sat on his spine, with his old legs on + his desk and his head sunk forward on his breast. His eyes were closed; to + the casual observer he would have appeared to be dozing. Any one of his + employees, however, would have known Cappy was merely thinking. It was his + habit to close his eyes and sit very still whenever he faced a tussle with + a tough proposition. + </p> + <p> + Presently an unmistakably feminine kiss, surreptitiously delivered, roused + Cappy from his meditations. He opened his eyes and beheld his daughter + Florence, a radiant debutante of twenty, and the sole prop of her + eccentric parent's declining years. + </p> + <p> + “Daddy dear,” she announced, “there's something wrong with my bank + account. I've just come from the Marine National Bank and they wouldn't + cash my check.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” Cappy replied, beaming affectionately. “They telephoned + about five minutes ago that you're into the red again; so I've instructed + Skinner to deposit five thousand to your credit.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I want ten thousand!” she protested. + </p> + <p> + “Can't have it, Florry!” he declared. “The old limousine will have to do. + Go slow, my dear—go slow! Why, they're offering random cargoes + freely along the street for nine dollars. Logs cost six dollars, with a + dollar and a half to manufacture—that's seven and a half; and three + and a half water freight added—that's eleven dollars. Eleven-dollar + lumber selling for nine dollars, and no business at that! I haven't had a + vessel dividend in six months—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner entered. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Ricks,” he announced, “Captain Peasley, late of the Retriever, is in + the outer office. Shall I tell him to wait?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Haven't we been itching to see each other the past eighteen months? + Show him in immediately, Skinner.” Cappy turned to his daughter. “I want + to show you something my dear,” he said; “something you're not likely to + meet very often in your set—and that's a he-man. Do you remember + hearing me tell the story of the mate that thrashed the big Swede skipper + I sent to Cape Town to thrash him and bring the vessel home?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean the captain that never writes letters?” + </p> + <p> + “That's the man. The fellow I've been having so much fun with—the + Nervy Matt that tried to hornswoggle me with my own photograph. Passed it + off as his own, Florry! He hails from my old home town, and he's a mere + boy—Come in!” + </p> + <p> + The door opened to admit Matt Peasley; and as he paused just inside the + entrance, slightly embarrassed at finding himself under the cool scrutiny + of the trimmest, most dashing little craft he had ever seen, Miss Florry + decided that her father was right. Here, indeed, was a specimen of the + genus Homo she had not hitherto seen. Six feet three he was, straight from + shoulder to hip, broad-chested and singularly well formed and graceful for + such a big man. + </p> + <p> + He wore stout shoes, without toe caps—rather old-fashioned footgear, + Florry thought; but they were polished brightly. A tailor-made, + double-breasted blue serge suit, close-hauled and demoded; a soft white + silk shirt, with non-detachable collar; a plain black silk four-in-hand + tie, and a uniform cap, set a little back and to one side on thick, black, + glossy, wavy hair, completed his attire. He had his right hand in his + trousers pocket; his left was on the doorknob. He glanced from her to her + father. + </p> + <p> + “He's handsome,” thought Florry. “What a beautiful tan on his throat! He + looks anything but the brute he is. But he hasn't any manners. Oh, dear! + He stands there like a graven image.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley's hand came out of his pocket; off came his cap and he bowed + slightly. + </p> + <p> + “I am Captain Peasley,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks, leaning forward on the edge of his swivel chair, with head + slightly bent, made a long appraisal of the young man over the rims of his + spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem!” he said. “Huh! Harumph!” Ensued another terrible silence. Then: + “Young scoundrel!” Cappy cried. “Infernal young scoundrel!” + </p> + <p> + “I accept the nomination,” said Matt dryly. “You'd never know me from my + photograph, would you, sir? I'd know you from yours, though—in a + minute!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Florry tittered audibly, thus drawing on herself the attention of the + skipper, who was audacious enough to favor her with a solemn wink. + </p> + <p> + “None of your jokes with me, sir!” said Cappy severely. + </p> + <p> + “That's just what I say, sir; none of your jokes on me! Those green hides + were absolutely indecent.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt, you're a fresh young fellow,” Cappy charged, struggling to suppress + a smile. + </p> + <p> + “And I was raised on salt water too,” Matt added seriously. + </p> + <p> + Cappy laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You're a Thomaston Peasley,” he declared, and shook hands. “Ever hear of + Ethan Peasley back there?” + </p> + <p> + “He was my uncle, sir. He was drowned at sea.” + </p> + <p> + “He was a boyhood chum of mine, Matt. Permit me to present my daughter, + Miss Florence.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Florence favored the captain with her most bewitching smile and + nodded perkily. Matt held out his great hand, not realizing that a bow and + a conventional “Delighted, I'm sure!” was the correct thing in Florry's + set. Florry was about to accept his great paw when Cappy yelled: + </p> + <p> + “Don't take it, Florry! He'll squeeze your hand to jelly.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't,” Matt declared, embarrassed. “I might press it a little—” + </p> + <p> + “I know. You pressed mine a little, and if I live to be a thousand years + old I'll never shake hands with you again.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll give her my finger then,” Matt declared, and forthwith held out his + index finger, which Florry shook gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, boy; sit down, sit down,” Cappy commanded briskly, “while I + tell you the plans I have for your future. I ought to have fired you long + ago—” + </p> + <p> + “I shall always be happy to testify that you tried hard enough,” Matt + interrupted, and Florry's silvery laugh filled the room. Cappy winced, but + had to join with her in the laugh on himself. + </p> + <p> + “For the sake of your Uncle Ethan, and the fact that you're one of our own + boys, Matt,” he continued, “I'll retain you if you behave yourself. As I + believe I wired you, I'm going to put you in steam.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't consult me about it, sir; but, to please you, I'll tackle + steam. I'm very grateful for your interest in me, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! That's not true, Matt. You're not grateful; and if you are you have + no business to be. I paid you a hundred and twenty-five dollars a month to + skipper the Retriever; you earned every cent of it and I made you fight + for the job; so, no thanks to me. And I know for a fact that you and Mr. + Murphy cursed me up hill and down dale—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Captain Peasley!” Miss Ricks interrupted. “Did you curse my father?” + </p> + <p> + “She's trying to fluster me,” Matt thought. “She thinks I'm a farmer.” + Aloud he said: “Well, you see, Miss Ricks, I had to work for him. However, + Mr. Murphy and I have forgiven him. We're both willing to let bygones be + bygones.” + </p> + <p> + “Young scoundrel!” piped Cappy, delighted beyond measure, for he was used + to unimaginative, rather dull skippers, who revered their berths and stood + before him, hat in hand, plainly uncomfortable in the presence of the + creator of the payroll. “Dashed young scoundrel! Well, we had some fun + anyhow, didn't we, Matt? And, as the young fellows say, I got your + Capricorn. Very well, then. We'll make a new start, Matthew; and if you + pay attention to business it's barely possible you may amount to something + yet. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to provide a berth for you, my boy, as second mate on the + dirtiest, leakiest little bumboat you ever saw—our steam schooner + Gualala. She's a nautical disgrace and carries three hundred thousand feet + of lumber—runs into the dogholes on the Mendocino Coast and takes in + cargo on a trolley running from the top of the cliff to the masthead. + It'll be your job to get out in a small boat to pick up the moorings; and + that'll be no picnic in the wintertime, because you lie just outside the + edge of the breakers. But you'll learn how to pick up moorings, Matt, and + you'll learn how to turn a steamer round on her heels also.” + </p> + <p> + “I never did that kind of work before,” Matt protested. “I stand a good + chance of getting drowned, don't I?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course! But better men than you do it; so don't kick. In the spring + I'll shift you to a larger boat; but I want you to have one winter along + the Mendocino Coast. It'll about break your heart, but it will do you an + awful lot of good, Matt. When you finish in the Gualala, you'll go in the + Florence Ricks and run from Grays Harbor to San Pedro. Then, when you get + your first mate's license, I'll put you in our Tillicum, where you'll + learn how to handle a big vessel; and by the time you get your master's + license for steam you'll be ready to start for Philadelphia to bring out + the finest freighter on this Coast. How does that prospect strike you?” + </p> + <p> + Matt's eyes glowed. He forgot the two years' apprenticeship and thought + only of the prize Cappy was dangling before him. + </p> + <p> + “If faithful service will be a guaranty of my appreciation—” he + began; but Cappy interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! Not another peep out of you. You'd better take a little rest + now for a couple of weeks and get your stomach in order after all that + creosote. Meantime, if you should need any money, Skinner will fix you + up.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll not need any, thank you. I saved sixteen hundred dollars while I was + in the Retriever—” + </p> + <p> + “Fine! Good boy!” exclaimed Cappy, delighted beyond measure at this proof + of Matt's Yankee thrift and sobriety. “But don't save it, Matt. Invest it. + Put it in a mortgage for three years. I know a captain now that wants to + borrow a thousand dollars at eight per cent. to buy an interest in one of + our vessels. You shall loan it to him, Matt, and he'll secure you with the + insurance. Perfectly safe. Guarantee it myself. Bring your thousand + dollars round in the morning, Matt. Understand? No fooling now! Make your + money work for you. You bet! If I'm not here tomorrow leave the money with + Skinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Skinner is the general manager, isn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and a mighty clever one, too. Don't you monkey with Skinner, young + man. He doesn't like you and he doesn't bluff worth a cent; and if you + ever have a run-in with him while I'm away and he fires you—well, I + guess I'd have to stand by Skinner, Matt. I can't afford to lose him. + Cold-blooded dog—no sense of humor; but honest—a pig for work, + and capable.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be very careful, sir,” Matt assured him. “Thank you for the + vacation, the promised job, and the chance to invest my thousand dollars + at eight per cent. And, now that my affairs are out of the way, let's talk + about yours. I think I can get you a four-year charter for your steamer + Lion—” + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” said Cappy Ricks impressively, “if you can get that brute of a + boat off my hands for four years, and at a figure that will pay me ten per + cent. on her cost price, I'll tell you what—I'll pay you a + commission.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want any commission, sir, for working for the interests of my + employer. What do you reckon it costs a day to operate the Lion?” + </p> + <p> + Cappy drew a scratch pad toward him and commenced to figure. + </p> + <p> + “She'll burn a hundred and seventy barrels of crude oil a day, at + sixty-five cents a barrel. That's about a hundred and ten dollars. Her + wages will average seventy-five dollars a day; it costs twenty dollars a + day to feed her crew; incidentals, say twenty dollars a day; insurance, + say, four dollars a day; wireless, three and a half dollars; depreciation, + say, two dollars and seventy-five cents a day; total in round figures two + hundred and thirty-five dollars a day. I ought to get four hundred dollars + a day for her; but in a pinch like the present I'd be glad to get her off + my hands at three hundred and fifty dollars. But, no matter what the price + may be, Matt, I'm afraid we can't charter her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because the Black Butte Lumber Company owns her sister, the Unicorn; + she's a burden on their back, as the Lion is on mine, there's war to the + finish between Hudner, the Black Butte manager, and myself, and he'll get + the business. He's a dog, Matt—always cutting prices below the + profit point and raising hob in the market. Infernal marplot! He stole the + best stenographer in the United States from me here about three years + ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Hudner's office?” Matt queried. + </p> + <p> + “In this building—sixth floor.” Matt rose and started for the door. + “Where are you going now, Matt?” Cappy piped. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you say the Unicorn will compete against the Lion for this charter I + have in mind. That is true enough. I know the Black Butte Lumber Company + will be approached for the Unicorn; so I'm going to get the Unicorn out of + the way and give you a clear field with the Lion. I figured it all out + coming down on the train.” And, without waiting to listen to Cappy's + protestations, Matt left the office. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. BUSINESS AND— + </h2> + <p> + Three minutes later he was closeted with Hudner, of the Black Butte Lumber + Company. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Peasley, Mr. Hudner,” he began truthfully. “I arrived from + Seattle this morning. I am looking for a steam freighter for some very + responsible people and your Unicorn appears to be about the vessel they're + looking for. They would want her to run coastwise, and prefer to charter + at a flat rate a day, owners to pay all expenses of operating the ship. + Would you be willing to charter for sixty days, with an option on the + vessel for an extension of the charter on the same terms for four years, + provided she proves satisfactory for my clients' purposes?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hudner started slightly. Four years! It seemed almost too good to be + true. He was certain of this the next instant when he thought of Cappy + Ricks' Lion, also laid up and as hungry for business as the Unicorn. He + wondered whether this young broker from Seattle had called on Cappy Ricks + as yet; and, wondering, he decided to name a price low enough to prove + interesting and, by closing promptly, eliminate his hated competitor from + all consideration. + </p> + <p> + “I should be very glad to consider your proposition, Mr. Peasley,” he + said. “You say your clients are entirely responsible?” + </p> + <p> + “They will post a bond if you're not satisfied on that point, Mr. Hudner. + What will you charter the Unicorn for, a day?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hudner pretended to do a deal of figuring. At the end of five minutes + he said: “Three hundred and fifty dollars a day, net to the vessel.” + </p> + <p> + Matt nodded, rose and reached for his hat. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you don't want to charter your vessel, sir,” he said. “I'm not + working for my health, either; so I guess I'll look for some other vessel. + I hear the Lion is on the market.” And without further ado he walked out. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hudner let him go; then ran after him and cornered him in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “I'll let you have her at three hundred and thirty,” he said desperately; + “and that's bedrock. And if your clients elect to take her for four years, + I'll pay you a thousand dollars commission on the deal. The vessel simply + cannot afford to pay more.” + </p> + <p> + After his conversation with Cappy Ricks, Matt realized that Hudner had, + indeed, named a very low price on the Unicorn. But Matt was a Yankee. He + knew he had Hudner where the hair was short; so he said: + </p> + <p> + “I'll give you three twenty-five and accept a thousand dollars commission + in case my clients take her for four years. That's my final offer, Mr. + Hudner. Take it or leave it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take it,” said poor Hudner. “It's better than letting the vessel + fall to pieces in Rotten Row. How soon will you hear definitely from your + principals?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll hear to-day; but meantime you might give me a three-day option on + the vessel, in case of unavoidable delays—though I'll do my best to + close the matter up at once.” + </p> + <p> + Hudner considered. The Unicorn had paid his company but two dividends + since her purchase from Cappy Ricks, while it was common talk on 'Change + that the Lion had paid for herself prior to the 1907 panic. In + consideration of the fact, therefore, that the Lion did not owe Cappy + Ricks a cent, Hudner shrewdly judged that Cappy would be less eager than + he for business, and that hence it would be safe to give a three-day + option. He led Matt back to his office, where he dictated and signed the + option. Matt gave him a dollar and the trap was set. + </p> + <p> + From Hudner's office Matt returned to that of Cappy Ricks. The heir to the + Ricks millions was still there, as Matt noted with a sudden, strange + thrill of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “I've waited until your return, Captain Peasley,” she said, “to see + whether you could dispose of dad's competitor as handily as you disposed + of your own that time in Cape Town.” + </p> + <p> + Matt blushed and Cappy chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “I've bet Florry five thousand dollars you'll dispose of Hudner and the + Unicorn, Matt,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad of that, sir, because if you hope to win the bet you'll have to + help me. I've gone as far as I can, sir. I've got an option on the Unicorn + for three days on a sixty-day charter, running coastwise with general + cargo, with the privilege of renewing for four years at the same rate. The + rate, by the way, is three hundred and twenty-five dollars. I want you to + charter her from Hudner; and then—” + </p> + <p> + “Bless your soul, boy, I don't want her! Haven't I got a boat of my own + I'd almost be willing to charter at the same figure to Hudner?” + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand, sir. The Mannheim people, with copper mines in + Alaska, want two boats to freight ore—and their agent came down on + the train with me. Don't you see, sir, that you have to control both boats + to get a price? If you don't that agent will play you against Hudner and + Hudner against you, until he succeeds in tying up both boats at a low + price. He wouldn't tell you he wants two boats, but he was fool enough to + tell me—” + </p> + <p> + “God bless my mildewed soul!” said Cappy excitedly, and smashed his old + fist down on his desk. “For the man to do things, give me the lad who + keeps his ears open and his mouth shut! Of course we'll charter her; and, + what's more, we'll give her business ourselves for sixty days just to keep + her off the market!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you'd better hurry and close the deal, sir,” Matt warned him. “I + only arrived in town this morning; and I checked my baggage at the depot + and came up here immediately. The Seattle broker went up to his hotel. He + said he had to have a bath and a shave and some clean linen first thing,” + he added scornfully: “Me, I'd swim Channel Creek at low tide in a dress + suit if I had important business on the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” said Cappy gratefully, “you're a boy after my own heart. Really, I + think you ought to get something out of this if we put it through.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, as I stated, I wouldn't take anything out of the Lion charter, + because it's my duty to save you when somebody has a gun at your head; but + on the Unicorn charter I thought—well, if you can recharter at a + profit I thought you might agree to split the profit with me. I'm a + skipper, you know, and this sort of thing is out of my regular line; and + besides, I'm not on your pay roll at present. I've promoted the deal, so + to speak. I supply the ship and the brains and the valuable information, + and you supply business for the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and, in spite of the hard times, I'll supply it at a profit if I + have to,” Cappy declared happily. “Of course I'll split the profit with + you, Matt. As you say, this Unicorn deal is outside your regular line. + It's a private deal; and as the promoter of it you're entitled to your + legitimate profit.” He rang for Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, my boy,” he said when that functionary entered, “Matt and I are + going to unload that white elephant of a Lion and get her off our hands + for four years at a fancy figure; but to do it we've got to charter + another white elephant—the Black Butte Lumber Company's Unicorn. + Here's an option Captain Peasley has just secured on her. Have the charter + parties made out immediately in conformity with this option and bring them + here for my signature.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner read the option and began to protest. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Ricks, I tell you we cannot possibly use the Unicorn for sixty days, + if you are forced to keep her off the market that long. If this thing + develops into a waiting game—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wear the other side out,” Cappy finished for him. “Listen to me, + Skinner! How's the shingle market in the Southwest?” + </p> + <p> + “The market is steady at three dollars and fifty cents, f.o.b. Missouri + River common points.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy scratched his ear and cogitated. + </p> + <p> + “The Unicorn will carry eighteen million shingles,” he murmured. “The + going water freight from Grays Harbor to San Francisco is how much?” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-five cents a thousand,” Mr. Skinner replied promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore, if we used one of our own vessels to freight eighteen million + shingles it would cost us—” + </p> + <p> + “Six thousand three hundred dollars,” prompted Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Fortunately for us, however, we do not use one of our own vessels. We use + that fellow Hudner's and we get her for three hundred and twenty-five + dollars a day. She can sail from here to Grays Harbor, take on her cargo, + get back to San Francisco and discharge it in twelve days. What's twelve + times three hundred and twenty-five?” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-nine hundred dollars,” flashed Skinner, to the tremendous + admiration of Matt Peasley, who now considered the manager an intellectual + marvel. + </p> + <p> + “Being a saving of how much?” Cappy droned on. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-four hundred dollars,” answered the efficient human machine + without seeming to think for an instant. + </p> + <p> + “Being a saving of how many cents on a thousand shingles?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner closed one eye, cocked the other at the ceiling an instant and + said: + </p> + <p> + “Thirteen and one-third cents a thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, Skinner. Now listen to my instructions: Wire all the + best shingle mills on Grays Harbor for quotations on Extra Star A Stars in + one to five million lots, delivery fifteen, thirty and forty-five days + from date; and if the price is right buy 'em all. We have about ten + millions on hand at our own mill. To-night send out a flock of night + letters to all the wholesale jobbers and brokers in Kansas, Missouri, + Oklahoma, Texas, and all points taking a sixty-cent tariff, and quote 'em + ten cents under the market subject to prior acceptance.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to Matt Peasley. + </p> + <p> + “That clause—'subject to prior acceptance'—saves our faces in + case we find ourselves unable to deliver the goods,” he explained, and + turned again to Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “We can freight the shingles from Grays Harbor to San Francisco in the + Unicorn; re-ship on cars from Long Wharf and beat the direct car shipments + from the mills ten cents, and still make our regular profit. Besides, the + cut in price will bring us in a raft of orders we could not get otherwise. + We can thus keep the Unicorn busy for sixty days without losing a cent on + her, and if we haven't come to terms with the Mannheim people at the end + of that time we'll find something else for her. And, of course, if we + succeed meantime in chartering the Lion at a satisfactory price, we can + throw the Unicorn back on Hudner at the end of the sixty days.” And Cappy + snickered malevolently as he pictured his enemy's discomfiture under these + circumstances. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner nodded his comprehension and hastened away to prepare the + charter parties. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. THE CLEAN UP + </h2> + <p> + Hudner, manager of the Black Butte Lumber Company, arched his eyebrows as + Matt Peasley entered his office half an hour after he had left it and + presented for Hudner's signature a formal charter party, in duplicate, + wherein the Blue Star Navigation Company chartered from J. B. Hudner, + managing owner of record, the American Steamer Unicorn for sixty days from + date, at the rate of three hundred and twenty-five dollars a day, said + managing owner to pay all expenses of operating said Unicorn. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” Mr. Hudner snorted. “I'd like to know what the devil Cappy Ricks + wants of my Unicorn when he's got her infernal sister squatting in the mud + of Oakland Creek? There's something rotten in Denmark, Mr. Peasley. There + always is when that old scoundrel Ricks does incomprehensible things.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely he's up to some skullduggery, sir,” Matt opined. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you had informed me of the identity of your client, Mr. Peasley,” + Hudner complained. “I don't like to sign this charter.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot help that now, sir,” Matt retorted. “You have agreed in writing + to charter the vessel to any responsible person I might bring to you, and + I guess the Blue Star Navigation Company comes under that head.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hudner sighed and gritted his teeth. Instinct told him there was + deviltry afoot, but in an evil moment he had sewed himself up and he had + no alternative now save to complete the contract or stand suit. So he + signed the charter party and retained the original, while Matt Peasley, + with the duplicate in his pocket, hastened back to Cappy Ricks' office. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” said Cappy approvingly, “you're a born business man, and it will + be strange indeed if you don't pick up a nice little piece of money on + this Unicorn deal.” He glanced at his watch and then turned to his + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Florry, my dear,” he said, “would you like to go up-town with your daddy + and Captain Peasley for luncheon?” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley grinned like a Jack-o'-lantern, all lit up for Hallowe'en. + </p> + <p> + “Fine!” he said enthusiastically. + </p> + <p> + Florence withered him with one impersonal glance, saw that she had + destroyed him utterly, relented, and graciously acquiesced. When they left + the office Matt Peasley was stepping high, like a ten-time winner, for he + had suddenly made the discovery that life ashore was a wonderful, + wonderful thing. There was such a lilt in his young heart that, for the + life of him, he could not forbear doing a little double shuffle as he + waited at the elevator with Cappy and his daughter. He sang: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The first mate's boat was the first away; + But the whale gave a flip of his tail, + And down to the bottom went five brave boys, + Never again to sail— + Brave boys, + Never again to sail! + + When the captain heard of the loss of his whale, + Right loud-lee then he swore. + When he heard of the loss of his five brave boys, + 'Oh,' he said, 'we can ship some more brave boys— + 'Oh,' he said, 'we can ship some more.'” + </pre> + <p> + Cappy winked slyly at his daughter, but she did not see the wink. She had + eyes for nobody but Matt Peasley, for he was a brand-new note in her life. + They were half through luncheon before Florry discovered the exact nature + of this fascinating new note. Matt Peasley was real. There was not an + artificial thought or action in his scheme of things; he bubbled with + homely Yankee wit; he was intensely democratic and ramping with youth and + health and strength and the joy of living; he could sing funny little + songs and tell funny little stories about funny little adventures that had + befallen him. She liked him. + </p> + <p> + After luncheon Cappy declared that Matt should return to the office with + him, while Florry instructed the waiter to ring for a taxicab for her. + Later, when Matt gallantly handed her into the taxi, he asked innocently: + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Miss Florry?” + </p> + <p> + “Home,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her so wistfully that she could not mistake the hidden + meaning in his words when he asked, with a deprecatory grin: + </p> + <p> + “Where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + “With my father,” she said, and closed the door. + </p> + <p> + When Cappy and Matt returned to the Blue Star offices they were informed + that Mr. Allan Hayes was patiently awaiting the arrival of the managing + owner of the Lion. Matt concluded, therefore, to remain secluded while + Cappy went into his own office and met Mr. Hayes. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later Cappy summoned Skinner and Matt to his sanctum. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” he said briskly, “have you bought any shingles?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not,” said Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Have you sent out those telegrams to the dealers?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet, Mr. Ricks. I was going to have them filed just before we close + the office.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Cappy smilingly, “don't accept any quotations until to-morrow + and don't send out those telegrams until further advice from me. I locked + horns with that man Hayes, and I think I gored him, Matt. It appeared he + called on me first; and when I quoted him four hundred dollars a day on + the Lion, he favored me with a sweet smile and said he could get the + Unicorn for three-fifty. So, of course, I had to explain to him that he + couldn't, because I wouldn't charter her at any such ridiculous figure! + That took the ginger out of him and we got down to business, with the + result that I've given him a forty-eight-hour option on both boats at four + hundred dollars a day each, with a commission of two thousand dollars cash + in full to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, he told me he would get two and a half per cent. commission!” Matt + declared. “He figured he'd have an income of twenty dollars a day for the + next four years.” + </p> + <p> + “I daresay he did, Matt,” Cappy replied dryly; “but then, in the very best + business circles you never pay a broker two and a half commission when you + know who his principals are! If he insists, you eliminate him entirely and + do business direct. Of course, my boy, if he had put the proposition up to + me, and I had agreed to pay him the regular commission while ignorant of + the identity of his principals, and he had then reposed confidence in my + business honor and told me whom he represented, he would have been + perfectly safe. Remember, Matt, that the business man without a code of + business honor never stays in business very long. From the office to the + penitentiary or the cemetery is a quick jump for birds of that feather.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, why did you offer him two thousand dollars?”' + </p> + <p> + “Because it never pays to be a hog, my son, and besides I want to close + this deal and close it quickly. Naturally Hayes isn't fool enough to toss + away two thousand dollars, and something seems to tell me he'll urge his + principals to take the boats at our figure, Matthew!” And the graceless + old villain chuckled and dug his youngest skipper in the short ribs. “Let + this be a lesson to you, my boy,” he warned him. “Remember the old Persian + proverb: 'A shut mouth catches no flies.'” + </p> + <p> + Cappy's prediction proved to be correct, for the following morning Hayes + telephoned that the Mannheim people desired the steamers at Cappy's + figures, the charter parties, signed by Cappy, were forwarded to Seattle, + and in due course were returned signed by the charterers; whereupon Cappy + exercised his option, procured by Matt from Hudner, to charter the Unicorn + for four years additional. + </p> + <p> + “What did Hudner have to say for himself?” Cappy queried when Matt + returned from the latter's office, after finally completing the deal. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word! He looked volumes, though, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Serves him right. That man, sir, is a thorn in the side of the market. + However, since we're making a daily profit on him we can afford to speak + kindly of the unfortunate fellow, Matt; so sit down and we'll figure out + where we stand on the Unicorn. She costs us three-twenty-five and we've + chartered her at four hundred—a daily profit of seventy-five + dollars, of which you receive thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents. That + makes eleven hundred and twenty-five dollars monthly income for you, my + boy; and, believe me, it isn't to be sneezed at. Meantime you and I, as + partners, owe me a thousand dollars commission to that Seattle broker; so + I'll have Skinner make a journal entry and charge your account five + hundred dollars. There's no need to pay it now, Matt. Wait until the + vessel earns it.” + </p> + <p> + “The vessel might sink on her first voyage and that would cancel the + charter,” Matt replied; “so I guess I'll be a sport and hold up my end. + You paid out the hard cash and took a chance, and so will I.” And, with + the words, Matt drew from his pocket the Black Butte Lumber Company's + check for a thousand dollars, indorsed it and passed it over to Cappy + Ricks. “We're equal partners, sir,” he said, “and I pried that thousand + out of Hudner on the side as a commission for chartering the Unicorn to + you. Half of it is yours and I owe you the other half; so there you are.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks threw up his hands in token of complete surrender. + </p> + <p> + “Scoundrel!” he cried. “Damned young scoundrel! You Yankee thief, haven't + you any conscience?” And he laid his old head on his desk and laughed his + shrill, senile laugh, while tears of joy rolled down his rosy old cheeks. + “Oh-h-h-h, my!” he cackled. “But wait until I get Hudner among my young + friends at the Round Table up at the Commercial Club to-morrow! To think + of a young pup like you coming in and chasing an old dog like Hudner round + the lot and taking his bone away from him!” + </p> + <p> + He turned to the general manager: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Skinner! Skinner, my dear boy, this will be the death of me yet! + Remember that old maid stenographer Hudner stole away from us, Skinner? + Remember? Oh, but isn't he paying for her through the nose? Isn't he, + Skinner? Oh, dear! Oh, dear, what a lot of fun there is in just living and + raising hell with your neighbor—particularly, Skinner, when he + happens to be a competitor.” + </p> + <p> + When Cappy could control his mirth he handed the money back to Matt. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Matt, my dear young bandit,” he informed that amazed young man, “I'm + human. I can't take this money. It's been worth a thousand dollars to have + had this laugh and to know I've got a lad like you growing up in my + employ. You're worth a bonus, Matt; I'll stand all the commission. Soak + Hudner's thousand away in the bank, Matt; or, better still—Here! + Here; let's figure, Matt: You had sixteen hundred saved up and you've + loaned a thousand on that mortgage. Now you've made a thousand more. + Better buy a good thousand-dollar municipal bond, Matt. That's better than + savings-bank interest, and you can always realize on the bond. I'll buy + the bond for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” Matt replied. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. CAPPY PROVES HIMSELF A DESPOT + </h2> + <p> + Cappy Ricks lay back in his swivel chair, his feet on his desk and his + eyes closed. He was thinking deeply, for he had something to think about. + Coming in from his club the night before he had observed that Florry was + entertaining company in the billiard room, as the crash of pool balls + testified. He had scarcely reached his room on the second floor, however, + when the pool game came to an end and he heard voices in the drawing room, + followed presently by a few random chords struck on the piano, and a + resonant baritone was raised in the strangest song ever heard in that + drawing room—a deep-sea chantey. + </p> + <p> + Cappy was no great shakes on music, but before he had listened to the + first verse of Rolling Home he knew Captain Matt Peasley for the singer + and suspected his daughter of faking the accompaniment. He listened at the + head of the stairs and presently was treated to a rendition of a lilting + little Swedish ballad, followed by one or two selections from the Grand + Banks and the doleful song of the Ferocious Whale and the Five Brave Boys. + Then he heard Florry laugh happily. + </p> + <p> + Cappy was thinking of the curious inflection in that laugh now. Once + before he had heard it—when he courted Florry's dead mother; and his + old heart swelled a little with pain at the remembrance. He was wondering + just what to do about that laugh when Matt was announced. + </p> + <p> + “Show him in,” said Cappy; and Matt Peasley entered. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Matt,” said Cappy kindly. “Yes, I sent for you. The Gualala + will be in to-morrow and you've had a fine two-weeks' vacation. What's + more, I think you've enjoyed it, Matt, and I'm glad you did; but now it's + time to get down to business again. I wanted to tell you that the skipper + of the Gualala will expect you to be aboard at seven o'clock to-morrow + morning.” + </p> + <p> + Matt studied the pattern of the office rug a minute and then faced Cappy + bravely. + </p> + <p> + “I'm obliged to you, Mr. Ricks, more than I can say; but the fact of the + matter is I've changed my mind about going to sea again. It's a dog's + life, sir, and I'm tired of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Tired at twenty-three?” said Cappy gently. + </p> + <p> + Matt flushed a little. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it does appear to me kind of foolish for a man with an income of + more than eleven hundred dollars a month to be going to sea as second mate + of a dirty little steam schooner at seventy-five dollars a month.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can hardly blame you,” said Cappy gently. “I suppose I'd feel the + same way about it myself if I stood in your shoes.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure you would,” Matt replied. + </p> + <p> + Fell a silence, broken presently by Cappy's: + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Ahem! Harump!” Then: “When I came in from my club last night, Matt, + I believe Florry had a caller.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Matt; “I was there.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! I got a squint at you. Am I mistaken in assuming that you were + wearing a dress suit?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Whadja mean by wasting your savings on a dress suit?” Cappy exploded. + “Whadja mean by courting my Florry, eh? Tell me that! Give you an inch and + you'll take an ell! Infernal young scoundrel!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Matt humbly, “I intended to speak to you about Miss Florry. + Of course now that I'm going to live ashore—” + </p> + <p> + “What can a big lubber like you do ashore?” Cappy shrilled. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I might get a job with some shipping firm—” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't count on a job ashore with the Blue Star Navigation Company,” + Cappy railed. “You needn't think—” + </p> + <p> + “Have I your permission to call on Miss Florry again?” Matt asked humbly. + </p> + <p> + “No!” thundered Cappy. “You're as nervy as they make 'em! No, sir! You'll + go to sea in the Gualala to-morrow morning—d'ye hear? That's what + you'll do!” + </p> + <p> + But Matt Peasley shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'm through with the sea,” he said firmly. “I have an income of eleven + hundred dollars a month—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is that so?” Cappy sneered. “Well, for the sake of argument, we'll + admit you have the income. We don't know how long you'll have it; but + we'll credit your account on the books while we're able to collect it from + the charterers, and I guess we'll collect it while the Unicorn is afloat. + But having an income and being able to spend it, my boy, are two different + things; so in order to set your mind at ease, let me tell you something: + I'm not going to give you a cent out of that charter deal—” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley sprang up, his big body aquiver with rage. + </p> + <p> + “You'd double-cross me!” he roared. “Mr. Ricks, if you weren't—” He + paused. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” snapped Cappy, undaunted. “I know what you're going to say. If + I wasn't an old man I'd let you make a jolly jackanapes of yourself. Now + listen to me! I said I wasn't going to let you have a cent out of that + charter deal—and I mean it. If you couldn't say Boo! from now until + the day you finger a dollar of that income you'd be as dumb as an oyster + by the time I hand you the check. What do you know about money?” he piped + shrilly. “You big, overgrown baby! Yah! You've had a little taste of + business and turned a neat deal, and now you think you're a wonder, don't + you? Like everybody else, you'll keep on thinking it until some smart + fellow takes it all away from you again; so, in order to cure you, I'm not + going to let you have it!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll sue you—” + </p> + <p> + “You can sue your head off, young man, and see how much good it will do + you. You surrendered to me your option that Hudner gave you on the + Unicorn, and you failed to procure from me in writing an understanding of + the agreement between us regarding this split. You haven't a leg to stand + on!” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley hung his head. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't think I had to take business precautions with you, sir,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “You should take business precautions with anybody and everybody.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I was dealing with a man of honor. Everybody has always told me + that Cappy Ricks'—” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you call me Cappy?” + </p> + <p> + “—word was as good as his bond.” + </p> + <p> + “And so it is, my boy. You'll get your money, but you'll wait for it; and + meantime I'll invest it for you. As I said before, you've had a taste of + business and found it pretty sweet—so sweet, in fact, that you think + you're a business man. Well, hereafter you'll remember, when you're making + a contract with anybody, to get it down in black and white; and then + you'll have something to fight about if you're not satisfied. Now, by the + time you're skipper of steam you'll be worth a nice little pile of money; + you can buy a piece of the big freighter I'm going to build for you and + it'll pay you thirty per cent. Remember, Matt, I always make my skippers + own a piece of the vessel they command. That gives 'em an interest in + their job and they don't waste their owner's money.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't be dictated to!” Matt cried desperately. “I'm free, white and—” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-three!” jeered Cappy. “You big, awkward pup! How dare you growl at + me! I know what's good for you. You go to sea on the Gualala.” + </p> + <p> + “I must decline—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right! Have it your own way,” said Cappy. “But, at the rate + you've been blowing your money in on Florry for the past two weeks, I'll + bet your wad has dwindled since you struck town. I've put that thousand + dollars out on mortgage for you, and Skinner has the mortgage in the + company safe, where you can't get at it to hock it when your last dollar + is gone. And he has the bond there too; so it does appear to me, Matt, + that if you want any money to spend you'll have to get a job and earn it. + I have the bulge on you, young fellow, and don't you forget it!” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley rose, walked to the window and stood looking down into + California Street. He was so mad there were tears in his eyes, and he + longed to say things to Cappy Ricks—only, for the sake of Miss + Florence Ricks, he could not abuse her sire. Once he half turned, only to + meet Cappy's glittering eyes fixed on him with a steadiness of purpose + that argued only too well the fact that the old man could not be bluffed, + cajoled, bribed or impressed. + </p> + <p> + Presently Matt Peasley turned from the window. + </p> + <p> + “Where does the Gualala lie, sir?” he asked gruffly. + </p> + <p> + “Howard Street Wharf, Number One, Matt,” Cappy replied cheerfully. “I + think she had bedbugs in her cabin, but I'm not sure. I wouldn't go within + a block of her myself.” + </p> + <p> + Matt gazed sorrowfully at the rug. Too well he realized that Cappy had the + whip hand and was fully capable of cracking the whip; so presently he + said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've met bedbugs before, Mr. Ricks. I'll go aboard in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to hear it, Matt. And another thing: I like you, Matt, but not + well enough for a son-in-law. Remember, my boy, you're only a sailor on a + steam schooner now—so it won't be necessary for you to look aloft. + You understand, do you not? You want to remember your position, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + Matt turned and bent upon Cappy a slow, smoldering gaze. Cappy almost + quivered. Then slowly the rage died out in Matt Peasley's fine eyes and a + lilting, boyish grin spread over his face, for he was one of those rare + human beings who can smile, no matter what the prospect, once he has + definitely committed himself to a definite course of action. Only the + years of discipline and his innate respect for gray hairs kept him from + bluntly informing Cappy Ricks that he might forthwith proceed to chase + himself! Instead he said quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir. Good afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon, sir,” snapped Cappy. + </p> + <p> + At the door Matt paused an instant, for he was young and he could not + retire without firing a shot. He fired it now with his eyes—a glance + of cool disdain and defiance that would have been worth a dollar of + anybody's money to see. Cappy had to do something to keep from laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Out, you rebel!” he yelled. The door closed with a crash, and Cappy Ricks + took down the telephone receiver and called up his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Florry,” he said gently, “I want to tell you something.” + </p> + <p> + “Fire away, Pop!” she challenged. + </p> + <p> + “It's about that fellow Peasley,” Cappy replied coldly. “I wish you + wouldn't have that big, awkward dub calling at the house, Florry. He'll + fall over the furniture the first thing you know, and do some damage. I + think a lot of him as a sailor, but that's about as far as my affection + extends; and if you insist on having him call at the house, my dear, my + authority over him as an employee will suffer and I'll be forced to fire + the fellow. Of course I realize what a pleasant boy he is; but then you + don't know sailors like I do. They're a low lot at heart, Florry, and this + fellow Peasley is no exception to the general rule.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy paused to test the effect of this broadside. There was a little gasp + from the other end of the wire; then a click as his daughter hung up, too + outraged to reply. + </p> + <p> + Cappy's kindly eyes twinkled merrily as he replaced the receiver on the + hook. + </p> + <p> + “What a skookum son-in-law to take up the business when I let go!” he + murmured happily. “Oh, Matt, I'm so blamed sorry for you; but it's just + got to be done. If you're going to build up the Blue Star Navigation + Company after the Panama Canal is opened for business, you've got to know + shipping; and to know it from center to circumference. It isn't sufficient + that you be master of sail and steam, any ocean, any tonnage. You've got + to learn the business from the rules as promulgated by little old Alden P. + Ricks, the slave driver. There's hope for you, sonny. You have already + learned to obey.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner bustled in with the mail. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” said Cappy plaintively, “what's the best way to drive obstinate + people south?” + </p> + <p> + “Head them north,” said Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “I'm doing it,” said Cappy dreamily. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. MATT PEASLEY IN EXILE + </h2> + <p> + From Cappy Ricks' office Matt Peasley went to the rooms of the American + Shipmaster's Association, entered the telephone booth and called up + Florence Ricks. From the instant he first laid eyes on her, Miss Florry + had occupied practically all of Matt's thoughts during every waking hour. + He had assayed her and appraised her a hundred times and from every + possible angle, and each time he decided that Florry was possessed of more + than sufficient charm, good looks, sweetness and intelligence to suit the + most exacting. Matt wasn't ultra-exacting and she suited him, and the fact + that she was the sole heir to millions was the least of the sailor's + considerations as he dropped his nickel down the slot. Neither did the + identity of the young lady's paternal ancestor constitute a problem, + despite the recent interview with that variable individual. Matt regarded + Cappy somewhat in the light of a mixed blessing; while he respected him he + was a little bit afraid of him, and just at present he disliked him + exceedingly. And lastly, his own social and economic status as second mate + of the most wretched little steam schooner in the Blue Star Navigation + Company's fleet, failed to enter even remotely into Matt's scheme of + things. + </p> + <p> + The reason for this mental stand on his part was a perfectly simple and + natural one. To begin, he was a stranger to caste other than that of + decent manhood. The only rank he had ever known was that of a ship's + officer, and that was merely a condition of servitude. When ashore he + regarded himself as the equal of any monarch under heaven and treated all + men accordingly. Since he had never known any of the restrictions of + polite conventions behind which society entrenches itself in the world + occupied by such pampered pets of fortune as Miss Florence Ricks, Matt + Peasley failed to see a single sound reason why he should not indulge a + very natural desire for Cappy's ewe lamb—for a singularly direct and + forceful individual was Matthew. It was his creed to take what he could + get away with, provided that in the taking he broke no moral, legal or + ethical code; and if any thought of the apparent incongruity of a sailor's + aspiring to the hand of a millionaire shipowner's daughter had occurred to + him—which, by the way, it had not—he would doubtless have + analyzed it thusly: + </p> + <p> + “There she is. Isn't she a queen? I want her and there isn't a single + reason on earth why I shouldn't have her, unless it be that she doesn't + want me. However, I'll learn all about that when I get good and ready, and + if I'm acceptable Cappy Ricks and one of his employees are going to have a + warm debate—subject, matrimony. What do I care for him? He's only + her father, and I'll bet he wasn't half so well fixed as I am when he got + married. I'll just play the game like a white man, and if Cappy doesn't + like it he'll have to get over it.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Florence,” Matt began, “this is Matt.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt who?” she queried with provoking assumption of innocence. + </p> + <p> + “Door Mat,” he replied. “Your daddy has just walked all over me at any + rate.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good morning, captain. Why, what has happened? Your voice sounds like + the growl of a big bear.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so. I'm hopping mad. The very first day I was ashore I turned a + nice little trick for your father. I wasn't on the pay roll at the time, + so we went into the deal together and chartered the Lion and the Unicorn + to freight ore for the Mannheim people from Alaska to Seattle. I furnished + the valuable information and the bright idea, and he capitalized both. The + result of the deal was that he has his own steamer, the Lion, off his + hands for four years, chartered at a fancy figure. Also he chartered the + Unicorn from her owner at a cheap rate and rechartered at an advance of + seventy-five dollars a day, and we split that profit between us. That + gives me an income of thirty-seven and a half a day for the next four + years, provided the Unicorn doesn't get wrecked. Naturally I wanted to + stay ashore, when there's money to be made as easy as that—and he + won't let me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so sorry, captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that helps.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not have to go to sea, do you?” Miss Ricks queried hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Miss Florry, I do; that's what hurts. Your father induced me to + invest all of my savings in a mortgage and a bond, and he has both locked + up in the Blue Star safe with that ogre Skinner in charge, so I can't get + them to realize on. Of course I could go to law and make him give them to + me, but he knows I'll not do that, so he just sits there and defies me. + And I neglected to take the proper business precautions about my daily + income from the charter of the Unicorn, and because I cannot prove I have + a divvy coming on that he says he won't give me a cent of it. He says + he'll credit my account on the company's books, and when the Unicorn + completes her charter he'll give it to me in a lump. In the meantime he's + going to invest it for me, and without consulting me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear,” said Miss Ricks sympathetically. “I'm so sorry dad's such a + busybody.” + </p> + <p> + “You're not half so sorry as I am. I'm flat broke, and in order to eat I + have to go to work, and in order to go to work I have to get a job, and in + order to get the job I have to take what your father offers me—in + fact, insists upon my taking. You see, Miss Florry, I'm almost a stranger + in Pacific shipping. I don't know any owners except your father and I've + never had any coastwise experience. It might be years before I could get + another job as master of a sailing ship, and most steamship captains + prefer to let some other captains break in their mates for them. So you + see I'm helpless.” + </p> + <p> + A silence. Then: “I'm going to sea in the Gualala to-morrow morning, + Florry.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time he had dropped the “Miss,” but he dropped it + purposely now. Miss Ricks noticed the omission, which probably imbued her + with the courage to voice again her excess of sympathy. Said she: “Oh, I'm + so sorry, Matt!” + </p> + <p> + He thrilled at that. “Well,” he answered humorously, “for the first time + I'm glad I'm not a captain any more!” + </p> + <p> + Followed another brief silence, while Florry groped for the hidden meaning + behind that subtle retort; then he continued: “Your father thinks I was a + little presumptuous in calling at the house. He spoke to me about it, + Florry, so I'm not going to call any more until he invites me. It's his + house, you know. But he didn't say anything about not telephoning to you + or seeing you outside his confounded house, so I suppose there's no + necessity for me feeling badly about it, is there?” + </p> + <p> + This was a pretty direct feeler, but Florry parried it with feminine + skill. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you can telephone me whenever you get to port. You mustn't take + dad too seriously, Matt. Really he's very fond of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Professionally, yes. Socially, no. I think he wants to give me a good + chance to do something for myself in a business way later on, but he made + it pretty plain that he is the only member of the Ricks family I'm to take + seriously. Of course I expect to have something to say about that myself, + Florry, but I didn't tell him so. He's your father, you know, and besides, + a man can't make a very good showing on seventy-five dollars a month. But + if the Unicorn lives to complete her charter I'll be up on Easy Street, + even if I'll only be a plain sea captain when I come into that money. Of + course now I'm only a second mate on the worst little steam schooner your + father owns and I cannot say the things I want to say—I don't mean + to your father, Florry, but to you—” + </p> + <p> + “But you're a captain now,” Florry interrupted, in delicious terror + hastening to obstruct any further discussion of what a seventy-five dollar + man might have to say were he but in position to say it. “Why should you + go to work as a second mate—” + </p> + <p> + “I've been a captain of sail, Florry. Of course, if I had never been + master of a vessel of more than five hundred tons net register, or my + sailing license had been limited to vessels of that tonnage, I should have + to work up from second mate to master in steam. But any man who has been + master of a vessel of more than five hundred tons net register for more + than one year is entitled to apply for a license as master of steam + vessels, and if he can pass the examination he can get his license.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why don't you do that, Matt?” Florry inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I have. The idea of two years' probation as second and first mate didn't + appeal to me, so while I was waiting round to join the Gualala I went up + for my ticket as master of steam. I passed, but when I told your father I + had a license to command the largest steam freighter he owns, he only + laughed at me and told me the inspectors weren't running his business for + him. Just because I'm not twenty-three years old he says I ought to have + two years' experience in steam as mate before he gives me command of a + vessel. He says I'd better learn the Pacific Coast like he knows his front + lawn, or some foggy night I'll walk my vessel overland and the inspectors + will set me down for a couple of years.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that sounds reasonable, Matt.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll admit there's some justice in his contention, so I'm going to + do it to please him, although I hate to have him think I'm a dog-barking + navigator.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what's that?” Florry demanded. + </p> + <p> + “A dog-barking navigator is a coastwise blockhead that gets lost if he + loses sight of land. He steers a course from headland to headland, and + every little while on dark nights he stands in close and listens. Pretty + soon he hears a dog barking alongshore. 'All right,' he says to the mate; + 'we're off Point Montara. I know that Newfoundland dog's barking. He's the + only one on the coast. Haul her off and hold her before the wind for four + hours and then stand in again. When you pick up the bark of a foxhound + you'll be off Pigeon Point.'” + </p> + <p> + Florry's laughter drowned a further description of the dog-barking + navigator's wonderful knowledge of Pacific Coast canines, and after some + small talk Matt said good-bye and hung up. When he left the telephone + booth, however, he was a happier young man than when he had entered it, + for he had now satisfied himself that while Cappy Ricks might arrogate to + himself the right of proposing, his daughter could be depended upon to + attend to the disposing. He went to his boarding house, paid his landlady, + packed his clothes and sent them down to the Gualala, rubbing her + blistered sides against Howard Street Pier No. 1. At seven o'clock next + morning he was aboard her and at seven-five he superintended the casting + off of the stern lines and his apprenticeship in steam had commenced. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. PROMOTION + </h2> + <p> + Cappy Ricks was in a fine rage. A situation, unique in his forty years of + experience as a lumber and shipping magnate, was confronting him, with the + prospects exceedingly bright for Cappy playing a role analogous to that of + the simpleton who holds the sack on a snipe-hunting expedition. He + summoned Mr. Skinner into his private office, and glared at the latter + over the rims of his spectacles. “Skinner,” he said solemnly, “there's the + very devil to pay.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner arched his eyebrows and inclined a respectful ear. Cappy + continued: + </p> + <p> + “It's about the Hermosa. Skinner, that dog-barking navigator you put in + that schooner while I was on my vacation has balled us up for fair. I'll + be the laughing-stock of the street.” + </p> + <p> + Parenthetically it may be stated that the Blue Star Navigation Company's + schooner, Hermosa, had cleared from Astoria for Valparaiso with a cargo of + railroad ties, and, for some reason which the captain could not explain + but which Cappy Ricks could, the unfortunate man had become lost at sea, + finally ending his voyage on a reef on one of the Samoan Islands. The + Hermosa had been listed as missing and her owners had been on the point of + receiving a check for the insurance on the vessel and her cargo when an + Australian steamer brought news of her predicament in Samoa. Her captain + sent word that she was resting easily and that he would get her off. + Subsequently, Cappy learned that his dog-barking skipper had discharged + his cargo of railroad ties on barges, in order to lighten the vessel and + float her off with the aid of a launch. Unfortunately, however, he + discovered a huge hole in her garboard, and before he could patch it an + extra high tide lifted the vessel over the reef and sunk her forty fathoms + deep in a place where nobody could ever get at her again. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” Cappy complained. “I'll be the laughing-stock of the street. + Here's a letter from the insurance people, inclosing a check for a total + loss on the vessel, but they repudiate payment of the insurance on the + cargo.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” demanded the amazed Skinner. “They insured those ties for delivery + at Callao. They can't get out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet they can,” Cappy shrilled. “I've just called up the Board of + Underwriters and they say the cargo hasn't been lost. They say nothing is + lost if you know where it is, and the ties are on the beach in Samoa + awaiting our pleasure. Skinner, call up our attorneys at once and tell + them to enter suit.” + </p> + <p> + “I was just about to call them up on another matter,” Mr. Skinner replied. + “As secretary of the Blue Star Navigation Company I have just been served + with a summons in another suit, entered against the Quickstep.” + </p> + <p> + “What in the fiend's name is the matter with that infernal Quickstep? This + is the third suit we've had in two years. Skinner, what is wrong with that + steam schooner?” + </p> + <p> + “She must be hoodooed, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “Another seaman injured by being hit with a cargo block or having a piece + of eight-by-eight drop on his foot, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Not this time, Mr. Ricks. One Halvor Jacobsen has sued the Quickstep and + owners for five thousand dollars for injuries alleged to have been + inflicted upon him by the captain.” + </p> + <p> + “So that Captain Kjellin has been fighting again, eh? Skinner, that man is + too handy with his fists, I tell you. He's another one of your favorites, + by the way. I only put that fellow in the Quickstep to please you.” + </p> + <p> + “We haven't a better man in our employ,” Mr. Skinner asserted stoutly. “He + carries larger cargoes and makes faster time than any steam-schooner + captain in our vessels of similar carrying capacity. He's a dividend + producer, Mr. Ricks, and he is very efficient.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk to me of efficiency,” Cappy snarled. “What's the sense rushing + the vessel round Robin Hood's barn to make dividends, if we lose them in + lawsuits?” + </p> + <p> + “His vessel didn't lay up during the strike of the Waterfront Federation + in 1903,” Skinner challenged. “You bet she didn't! Kjellin rustled up a + scab crew and kept the mob off the vessel at the point of a gun. I + understand he's a bit short-tempered, but while there are ships with + red-blooded men in them, Mr. Ricks, we must expect the men to pull off a + couple of rounds with skin gloves every so often.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy looked over the rims of his spectacles at Mr. Skinner. “Skinner,” he + said impressively, “listen to me: This is the last suit that's going to be + entered against the Quickstep. Was that man Halvor Jacobsen who is suing + us second mate on the Quickstep?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew it,” Cappy shrilled triumphantly. “Skinner, with all your + efficiency ideas, you fail to see anything remarkable in that fact. Now + don't tell me you do, because I know you do not. This is the third suit + since Kjellin took charge, and that's proof enough for me that there's + something wrong with that big Finn. Those other two suits were for + injuries received by men loading cargo in the after hold. The after hold + is presided over by the second mate.” Cappy waved his hands. “Huh!” he + said. “Simple!” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I comprehend,” Mr. Skinner admitted. “But what are you going to + do about it? We can scarcely discharge Kjellin without a hearing and + without proof that he is to blame.” + </p> + <p> + “What am I going to do about it?” Cappy echoed. “Why, I'm going to send a + judge and a jury aboard the Quickstep, try this Finn, Kjellin, and if he's + guilty of dereliction of duty I'll bet you a plug hat to one small + five-cent bag of smoking tobacco I'll know all about it inside of a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to put a secret-service operative aboard disguised as a + deckhand?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Skinner, you distress me. I'm going to put Matt Peasley aboard the + Quickstep as second mate, and let Nature take its course.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't do that if I were you, sir,” Mr. Skinner advised. “That rowdy + Peasley and a man like Kjellin will not get along together for one voyage; + then Kjellin will fire him, and first thing you know you'll be groping + around in the dark again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know this Finn is a pet of yours,” Cappy retorted acidly, “but Matt + Peasley is a pet of mine. If we put them together in the same ship maybe + we'll have one of those skin-glove contests you referred to a minute ago, + but between their mutual recriminations you can bet your hopes of Heaven + I'll catch a glimpse of the truth and act accordingly. Matt will not tell + a lie, Skinner. Remember that.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither will Kjellin,” Skinner declared with equal warmth. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know whether he will or not. However, that's beside the + question. Where is the Florence Ricks?” + </p> + <p> + “Sailed from San Pedro at noon yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the Quickstep?” + </p> + <p> + “Sailed from Eureka to load shingles last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Wireless the master of the Florence to provide himself with a new + second mate. That will give him time to wireless ahead and have one + waiting for him when the vessel touches in to discharge passengers from + the south. Tell him to inform Peasley he isn't fired, but just + transferred. Attend to it, Skinner.” + </p> + <p> + While Mr. Skinner departed to carry out Cappy's order, the old gentleman + called up Harbor 15, Masters' and Pilots' Association, and asked for the + secretary. + </p> + <p> + “Ricks of the Blue Star speaking,” he announced crisply. “Been furnishing + many second mates to the Quickstep lately?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, Mr. Ricks. Kjellin wires for a new second mate quite + frequently. They don't seem to stay with him more than a voyage or two. + He's quite a driver, you know, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” Cappy replied grimly. “The next time he wires in to have a + second mate join the ship when he touches in here, you might be good + enough to call me up. I have a skookum young second mate in the Florence + Ricks that I'm training for a captain, and I want to switch him in on the + Humboldt Bay run for the sake of the experience. And, of course, you know + how it is with masters—they like to think they're selecting their + own mates, and always resent any interference from their owners. And if + you do ask them to take a certain mate they're apt to suspect he's a spy + from the office, and—well, you understand. I'd prefer to have this + lad I have in mind go aboard as if you had sent him.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand, Mr. Ricks. I'll let you know the first time Kjellin wires + in.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. CAPPY HAS A HEART + </h2> + <p> + “Well, Matt,” said Cappy Ricks, cheerfully, as he shook hands with the + late second mate of the Florence Ricks. “We don't see much of each other + now that you're a mate. But don't worry, you'll be a master again, and + then you'll be dropping in here a couple of times a month pestering me for + a lot of things for your ship that you could probably get along without. + You're looking fit, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm feeling fit, sir,” Matt replied, grinning. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to hear it,” was Cappy's grim reply. “Hum! Harump-h-h-h! Let me + see now. You've had your course in the Mendocino dog-holes, and that's + over. I hope you learned something. You've run for seven months from all + the Washington and Oregon ports to Southern California, and—er—that's + very nice. But you haven't been over Humboldt Bar yet, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have something coming. Quite a bar in the winter time, Matt, + quite a bar! Good many tickets been lost on that bar, Matt, so you ought + to have more than a nodding acquaintance with it. You're going second mate + in the Quickstep. She's carrying redwood shingles from Eureka to the + Shingle Association's air-drying yards up river at Los Medanos at present, + and she'll get to Los Medanos Sunday afternoon, so you'd better get there + about the same time, in order to turn to discharging bright and early + Monday morning. And you'll have to step lively, Matt. The Quickstep lives + up to her name, and the way they put shingles into that vessel is a + scandal.” + </p> + <p> + “Shingles are nice stuff to handle,” Matt ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Not redwood shingles, Matt. All right after they're dry, but when they + come fresh from the saws they bleed a little, so be sure and wear gloves + when you handle them. If you have a cut on your hand that redwood sap may + poison you. I think you'll like the Quickstep, Matt.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter whether I do or not,” Matt replied humorously. “You + always do things for me without consulting me anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you don't mind, do you, my boy? It's all for your own good.” + </p> + <p> + “I can bear it, sir, because one of these bright days I'm going to do + something without consulting you.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy favored him with a sharp glance. “As the street boys say,” he + flashed back, “'I get you, Steve!'” + </p> + <p> + “And having gotten me, Mr. Ricks, do you still want me in your employ?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly, certainly. Any time I want to get rid of you I'll fire you + or have Skinner do it for me.” + </p> + <p> + Matt looked at his watch and rose. “I have four days' shore leave before + me, sir,” he said, “so I guess I'll be trotting along and make the most of + it. I'll be at Los Medanos Sunday night.” + </p> + <p> + “Her skipper's a big Finn,” Cappy warned him. “Behave yourself, Matt. He's + bad medicine for young second mates.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do my duty, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He took his leave. As he went out the door Cappy gazed after him with + twinkling eyes: “Young scoundrel!” he murmured. “Damned young scoundrel! + You'll be ringing Florry up the minute you leave this office, if you + haven't already done it. I'm onto you, young fellow!” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley took Florry Ricks to a matinee that very day. Cappy, + suspecting he might attempt something of the sort and desiring to verify + his suspicions, went home from the office early that day, and from his + hiding place behind the window drapes in his drawing room he observed a + taxicab draw up in front of his residence at six o'clock. From this + vehicle Matt Peasley, astonishingly well tailored, alighted, handed out + the heir to the Ricks millions, said good-by lingeringly and drove away. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Cappy soliloquized, “I guess I'm going to land the son-in-law I'm + after. The matinee is over at a quarter of five, and those two have fooled + away an hour. I'll bet a dollar Florry steered that sailor into a tea + fight somewhere, and if she did that, Matt, you're a tip-top risk and I'll + underwrite you.” + </p> + <p> + That same evening Cappy sneaked into his daughter's apartments and found a + photograph of Matt Peasley in a hammered silver frame on Florry's dressing + table. + </p> + <p> + “Holy sailor!” he chuckled. “They think they're putting one over on the + old gentleman, don't they? Trying to cover me with blood, eh? Huh! If I'd + let that fellow Matt stay ashore he'd have hung round Florry until he wore + out his welcome, and I suppose in the long run I'd have had to put up with + one of these lawn-tennis, tea-swilling young fellows too proud to work. By + Judas Priest, when I quit the street I want to give my proxy to a lad that + will make my competitors mind their step, and by keeping Matt at sea a + couple of years, I'll get him over the moon-calf period. Deliver my girl + and my business from the hands of a damned fool!” + </p> + <p> + The following evening Cappy questioned his daughter's chauffeur—a + chauffeur, by the way, being a luxury which Cappy scorned for himself. He + maintained a coachman and a carriage and a spanking team of bays, and + drove to his office like the old-fashioned gentleman he was. From this + chauffeur Cappy learned that he, the chauffeur, had been out all the + afternoon with Miss Florence and a large, light-hearted young gentleman. + They had lunched together at the Cliff House. + </p> + <p> + “What did she call him?” Cappy demanded, anxious to verify his suspicions. + “Didn't she address him as 'Matt?'” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” the man replied, grinning. “She called him 'dearie.'” + </p> + <p> + “Holy jumped-up Jehosophat!” murmured Cappy, and questioned the man no + further. That evening, however, he decided to have a heart—particularly + after Florry had informed him that she was going out to dinner the + following night. + </p> + <p> + “And you'll be all alone, popsy-wops,” she added, “so you had better eat + dinner at the club.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm tired of my clubs,” Cappy replied sadly. “Still your remark gives + me an idea, Florry. If I happen to run across that young fellow Peasley—you + remember him, Florry; the boy I'm training for a steamship captain—I'll + have him out for dinner with me so I'll not have to eat alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you didn't care for him socially,” Florry put forth a feeler. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he used to remind me considerably of a St. Bernard pup, but I + notice he's losing a lot of that fresh, puppy-dog way he used to have. And + then he's a Down-East boy. His Uncle Ethan Peasley and I were pals + together fifty years ago, and for Ethan's sake I feel that I ought to show + the boy some consideration. He's learning to hold himself together pretty + well, and if I should run into him to-morrow I'll ask him out.” + </p> + <p> + Florry exhibited not the slightest interest in her father's plans, but he + noticed that immediately after dinner she hurried up to her room, and that + upon her return she declined a game of pool with her father on the score + of not feeling very well. + </p> + <p> + “You skipped upstairs like a sick woman,” Cappy reflected. “I'll bet a hat + you telephoned that son of a sea cook to be sure and throw himself in my + way to-morrow, so I'll invite him out to dinner. And you're complaining of + a headache now so you'll have a good excuse to cancel that dinner + engagement to-morrow night so as to eat at home with your daddy and his + guest. Poor old father! He's such a dub! I'll bet myself a four-bit cigar + I eat breakfast alone to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + And it was even so. Florry sent down word that she was too indisposed to + breakfast with her father, and the old man drove chuckling to his office. + That afternoon Matt Peasley, in an endeavor to invade the floor of the + Merchants' Exchange, to which he had no right, was apprehended by the + doorkeeper and asked to show his credentials. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm Captain Peasley, of the Blue Star Navigation Company,” he replied + lightly, and was granted admittance as the courtesy accorded all sea + captains. He knew Cappy Ricks always spent an hour on 'Change after + luncheon at the Commercial Club. When Cappy met him, however, the old man + was mean enough to pay not the slightest attention to Matt; so after + waiting round for three-quarters of an hour longer, the latter left the + Exchange and walked down California Street, where he posted himself in the + shelter of a corner half a block south of No. 258, where the Blue Star + Navigation Company had its offices. From this vantage point presently he + spied Cappy trotting home from the Merchants' Exchange; whereupon Matt + strolled leisurely up the street and met him. And in order that Cappy + should realize whom he was meeting Matt bumped into the schemer and then + begged his pardon profusely. + </p> + <p> + “Don't mention it, Matt,” the old rascal protested. “You shook up a flock + of ideas in my head and jarred one loose. If you haven't anything on + to-night, my boy, better come out to the house and have dinner with me. + I'm all alone and I want company.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” Matt replied enthusiastically; “I'll be glad to come.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet you will,” Cappy thought. Aloud he said: “At six-thirty.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” And Matt Peasley was off like a tin-canned dog + to slick himself up for the party, while Cappy entered the elevator + chuckling. “If I ever find the sour-souled philosopher who said you can't + mix business and sentiment without resultant chaos,” he soliloquized, + “I'll boil the kill-joy in oil.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. NATURE TAKES HER COURSE + </h2> + <p> + The big steam schooner Quickstep was lying at the Los Medanos dock when + Matt Peasley reported for duty. The captain was not aboard, but the first + mate received him kindly and explained that Captain Kjellin had gone down + to San Francisco by train for a little social relaxation and to bring back + funds to pay off the longshoremen. + </p> + <p> + Early on Monday morning the crew and a large force of stevedores commenced + to discharge the vessel. Two winches were kept busy, the first mate being + in charge of the work up forward and Matt superintending that aft. The + shingles were loaded in huge rope cargo nets, snatched out of the ship and + swung overside onto flat cars, which were shunted off into the drying yard + as soon as loaded. + </p> + <p> + The captain returned at noon on Tuesday, and at two o'clock the last + bundle of shingles was out of the Quickstep, for the mate had worked + overtime Monday night in order that they might finish discharging early + enough on Tuesday afternoon to drop down to Oleum and take on fuel oil for + the next voyage. This schedule would bring them to the dock at San + Francisco about six o'clock, where they would take on stores and + passengers and sail at seven for Eureka, on Humboldt Bay, where they would + arrive Wednesday night. On Thursday they would commence taking on cargo, + but since they had to take shingles from several mills round the bay, they + were bound to be delayed waiting for tides to get in and out, and in all + probability they would not be loaded and at sea until Saturday night, + which would give them Sunday at sea—and in the lumber trade on the + Pacific Coast the only profitable way to spend Sunday is to spend it at + sea. To spend it in port is a day lost, with the crew loafing and drawing + full pay for it. The mate explained to Matt that Captain Kjellin would + drive them hard to maintain this schedule, for he prized his job as master + of the Quickstep, and had a reputation for speed and efficiency with his + owners which he was anxious to maintain. + </p> + <p> + Despite their best efforts, however, the vessel was doomed to fall behind + her schedule. At Oleum they found the oil dock lined with vessels taking + on fuel, and in consequence were forced to wait two hours for a berth; + seeing which the captain went ashore and telephoned his owners that he + would be unable to get to the dock in San Francisco until about eight + o'clock. Consequently, Mr. Skinner, realizing that the passengers their + agent had booked for the Quickstep, by reason of the cut-rates prevailing + on lumber steamers, would not wait on the dock until the Quickstep should + arrive, instructed the captain to lay over in San Francisco all night and + put to sea at nine o'clock Wednesday morning. In the meantime he said he + would send a clerk down to the dock to notify the waiting passengers of + the unavoidable change in schedule. + </p> + <p> + Promptly at eight o'clock Wednesday morning the Quickstep got away from + the dock. The minute she was fairly out the Golden Gate, however, she + poked her nose into a stiff nor'west gale; and as she was bound north and + was empty, this gale, catching her on the port counter, caused her to roll + and pitch excessively, and cut her customary speed of ten miles an hour + down to five. Every passenger aboard was soon desperately seasick, and off + Point Reyes so violently did the Quickstep pitch that even some members of + the crew became nauseated, among them Matt Peasley. He had never been + seasick before and he was ashamed of himself now, notwithstanding the fact + that he knew even the hardiest old seadogs are not proof against + mal-de-mer under certain extraordinary conditions. Captain Kjellin, coming + up on the bridge during Matt's watch, found the latter doing the most + unseamanlike thing imaginable. Caught in a paroxysm at the weather end of + the bridge, Matt, in his agony, was patronizing the weather rail! The + captain heard him squawk, and ducked to avoid what instinct told him the + gale would bring him his way. + </p> + <p> + “Vat you ban tankin' of?” he roared furiously. “You damned landsman! Don't + you know enough to discharge dot cargo over der lee rail?” + </p> + <p> + Having disposed of a hearty breakfast, Matt raised his green face and + stared sheepishly at the Finn. “You didn't get sprayed, did you, sir?” he + queried breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “No, but who der devil ever heard of a seaman gettin' sick to windward—?” + </p> + <p> + “I know it looks awful, sir,” quavered Matt. “I thought something like + this might happen, and in order to be prepared for eventualities I hung a + fire bucket over the edge of the weather-bridge railing and set another + there by the binnacle. The man at the wheel got me started, sir. He asked + me if I liked fat pork. Can't you see that if I had made a quick run for + the lee rail while the vessel was pitching to leeward the chances are I'd + continue right on overboard? As soon as I get my bearings again I'll empty + the bucket, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Der fire buckets ban't for dot purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir. I'll buy you a new fire bucket when we get to Eureka,” + Matt answered contritely. + </p> + <p> + Kjellin stayed on the bridge a few minutes, growling and glaring, but Matt + was too ill and dispirited to pay any attention to him, so finally he went + below. + </p> + <p> + The Quickstep bucked the gale all the way to Humboldt Bar, and tied up at + the first mill dock at half past one o'clock on Friday. It was two o'clock + before the passengers and their baggage had been sent ashore, but the + minute the last trunk went over the rail the loading began. + </p> + <p> + “We'll work overtime again to-night,” the first mate told Matt at + luncheon. “The old man will drive us hard to-morrow, and we'll have more + overtime Saturday night so we can get to sea early Sunday morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care,” Matt replied. “I get seventy-five cents an hour for my + overtime, and I'm big enough to stand a lot of that. But, believe me, I'll + jump lively. The old man's out of sorts on account of the delay due to + that head wind.” + </p> + <p> + At three o'clock the captain walked aft, where Matt Peasley was + superintending the stowing in the after hold. + </p> + <p> + “Is dot all you've got to do,” he sneered—“settin' roundt mit your + hands in your poggeds?” + </p> + <p> + Matt glared at him. True, his hands were in his pockets at that moment, + but he was not setting round. He was watching a slingload of shingles + hovering high over the hatch, and the instant it was lowered he intended + to leap upon it, unship the cargo hook, hang the spare cargo net on it and + whistle to the winchman to hoist away for another slingload. He controlled + his temper and said: + </p> + <p> + “I'm doing the best I can, sir. That winchman doesn't have to wait on us a + second, sir. We handle them as fast as they swing them in from the mill + dock.” + </p> + <p> + “Yump in an' do somedings yourself,” Kjellin growled. “Don't stand roundt + like a young leddy.” + </p> + <p> + “D'ye mean you want I should mule shingles round in this hold like a + longshoreman?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! Ve got to get to sea Sunday morning, und every liddle bit helps.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then you'll get along without my little bit. If you don't know your + business, sir, I know mine. Somebody's got to tend that sling, and + everybody's business is nobody's business. If I'm not on the job a bundle + of shingles may come flying down from above and kill a man, or that heavy + cargo block may crack a stevedore on the head. Who's going to look after + the broken bundles and see that they're repacked if I don't? I can't do + that and mule shingles round in this hold, sir; and what's more I'm not + going to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Den, by yimminy, you get off der ship!” the captain roared. “I don't vant + no loafers aboard my boat, und if you tank—” + </p> + <p> + “Stow the gab, you big Finn! I'm through. Pay me off and help yourself to + another second mate.” And Matt put on his coat and whistled to the + winchman to steady his slingload while he climbed out of the hold. Kjellin + followed and Matt preceded him to his stateroom, where the captain paid + him the few dollars he had coming to him. + </p> + <p> + “Sign clear,” he ordered, and Matt took an indelible pencil and stooped + over the skipper's desk to sign the pay roll. As he straightened up the + captain's powerful left forearm came round Matt's left shoulder and under + his chin, tilting his head backward, while the Finn's left knee ground + into the small of his back. He was held as in a vise, helpless, and + Kjellin spoke: + </p> + <p> + “Ven I get fresh young faler like you, an' he quit me cold, I lick him + after I pay him off.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” Matt replied calmly. “That makes it a plain case of assault and + battery, whereas if you lick him before you pay him off, he can sue your + owners. You're a fine, smart squarehead!” + </p> + <p> + “You bet!” Kjellin answered, and struck him a stunning blow behind the + ear. Matt, realizing his inability to wriggle out of the captain's grasp, + kicked backward with his right foot and caught the Finn squarely on the + right shin, splintering the bone. The captain cried out with the pain of + it and released the pressure on Matt's chin, whereupon the latter whirled, + picked the Finn up bodily, and threw him through the stateroom door out + onto the deck, where he struck the pipe railing and rebounded. He lay + where he fell, and when Matt's brain cleared and he came out on deck the + captain was moaning. + </p> + <p> + “Get up, you brute!” Matt ordered. “You got the wrong pig by the ear that + time.” + </p> + <p> + “My leg ban broken,” Kjellin whimpered. + </p> + <p> + “I wish it was your neck,” Matt replied with feeling, and bent over to + examine his fallen foe. When he grasped Kjellin by the right shoulder, + however, the Finn screamed with pain, so Matt called the steward, and + together they lifted him and carried him to his berth. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet a cooky you're a total loss and no accident insurance,” Matt + soliloquized. “You're not worth it, but for the sake of the owners I'll + get a doctor to look you over,” and he went ashore at once. When the + doctor had looked Thorwald Kjellin over his verdict was a broken tibia, a + broken radius and a broken clavicle. + </p> + <p> + Matt was concerned. “I don't think I ever had any of those things to get + broken,” he declared humorously, “but if mere words mean anything I'll bet + this is a hospital job.” The doctor nodded, and Matt turned to the + captain: “Do you want to go to the hospital in Eureka or in San + Francisco?” + </p> + <p> + “I ban vant to go home,” the Finn moaned. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, captain; I guess your successor will bring you there. I'm + going up to the mill office now to report to the owners by telephone.” + </p> + <p> + “Dot ban't none o' your business, Peasley,” Kjellin protested. “Dot is der + first mate's job. You ban fired.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. Now I'm back-firing,” Matt retorted. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes later he had Cappy Ricks on the long-distance telephone. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Ricks,” he began, “this is Peasley talking from Eureka. I have to + report that I'm fired out of the Quickstep. I'm not complaining about that + or asking you to reinstate me, because I can get another job now, but I + want to tell you why I was fired. The captain got a grouch against me + coming up. We had a nor'west gale on our port counter and she rolled and + bucked until even some of the crew got seasick. I'm ashamed to say I fell + by the wayside myself for a few minutes, and Captain Kjellin caught me + draped over the weather bridge railing. So I guess he thought I wasn't + much of a seaman. Anyhow he picked on me from then on, and a little while + ago he ordered me to mule shingles with the longshoremen in the after + hold. I couldn't do that, Mr. Ricks. I'm a ship's officer, and besides + you've simply got to have somebody to watch the slings when they're coming + into the ship at the rate of two a minute or somebody will get hurt, and + then the vessel will be sued for damages. You see we were working overtime + and in a hurry to get loaded—” + </p> + <p> + “I see everything,” Cappy retorted. “What happened next?” + </p> + <p> + “The captain got me foul in his cabin when I went to be paid off, and hung + a shanty back of my ear, so I threw him out on deck and hurt him. You'll + have to send a new skipper up to bring the Quickstep home, sir. The first + mate is a good man but he hasn't a master's license—” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do to Kjellin, Matt?” + </p> + <p> + “You'll have to ask a doctor, sir. I didn't intend to break him up, but it + seems I damaged all his Latin superstructure, and he'll have to go to a + hospital for a couple of months. I'm sorry I hurt your skipper, sir, and I + felt I couldn't leave your employ, Mr. Ricks, without an explanation.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't left my employ at all. Get back on the job and load that + vessel, or the first thing you know you'll be stuck in port over Sunday, + and that's not the way to make a start as master of the Quickstep. You + have a license as master of steam, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I can handle her, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then do it and don't stand there burning up good money on the + long-distance phone. The Quickstep is yours—on one condition.” + </p> + <p> + “I accept it, sir,” Matt exclaimed, overjoyed. “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “That you stick in her at least six months.” + </p> + <p> + “I will if I live and she floats that long, sir. Thank you. Please have a + second mate and an ambulance waiting for me at Meiggs Wharf on Monday. + I'll touch in there on my way up river to discharge what's left of your + skipper.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. MR. SKINNER HEARS A LECTURE + </h2> + <p> + Down in the offices of the Blue Star Navigation Company Cappy Ricks, + having summoned Mr. Skinner, sat peering whimsically at the general + manager over the rims of his spectacles. “Well, Skinner, my dear boy,” he + announced presently, “sure enough there was something wrong with the + Quickstep, and now I know what it is; she has had the wrong master. When + he hustles to catch a tide or to get to sea Saturday night or Sunday + morning he drives his mates and tries to make them do longshoremen's work. + When he bullied a weak mate into doing that, there was nobody to pay + exclusive attention to the slingloads as they came into the ship, and + naturally accidents resulted. When strong second mates refused he fired + them, and after firing them he cornered them in his cabin, held them foul + and beat them. You see, Skinner, this skookum skipper of yours didn't + realize that with two slingloads of shingles a minute dropping into the + ship he had to have a man on the job to watch the loading and do nothing + else; and because he didn't realize the error of his way, Skinner, he and + Matt Peasley have pulled off that little skin-glove contest, and now + Kjellin looks like a barrel of cement that's been dropped out the window + of a six-story building. Hum! Ahem! Harump-h-h-h! Call up the attorney for + that man Jacobsen that's suing the Quickstep, and tell him to come down + here with his man and we'll settle the case out of court. His charge lies + against Kjellin for assault and battery, but after all, Skinner, I dare + say we are in a measure responsible for our servants. I'll give the + attorney about twenty-five dollars for his fee, and er—the man + Jacobsen—let me see, Skinner, he had a broken nose, did he not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll pay his doctor bill and his wages as second mate since Kjellin + fired him, and give him a hundred dollars extra.” + </p> + <p> + “How about Kjellin's hospital bill?” + </p> + <p> + “I disclaim responsibility, Skinner. Did he settle up with the cashier for + his last voyage?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “Then send him a wireless and tell him he's fired. Also, Skinner, my boy, + see that an ambulance is waiting for him at Meiggs Wharf when he arrives + on the Quickstep on Monday. We'll show him we're not entirely heartless. + Make it clear, however, that this office will not be responsible for the + ambulance fee. Matt will bring the vessel down without a second mate, I + dare say. He'll stand a watch himself. Better call up Harbor 15 and see if + there isn't a second mate out of a job hanging round there, and tell him + to join the ship at Meiggs Wharf.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner's eyes fairly popped. “You don't mean to tell me, sir, that + you've given the Quickstep to that rowdy Peasley?” + </p> + <p> + Cappy relapsed into the colloquialism of the younger generation with which + he was wont to associate at luncheon. “Surest thing you know,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “If I may be permitted a criticism, Mr. Ricks—” + </p> + <p> + “You may not.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sentimental leaning toward your fellow townsman may be the cause of + losing one of the best paying ships of the fleet.” + </p> + <p> + “Forget it, Skinner!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well. You're the boss, Mr. Ricks. But if I were in your place I + would have an older and more experienced man to relieve him the moment he + comes into the bay. You must remember, Mr. Ricks, that while he may run + her very nicely during the summer months, he has had no experience on + Humboldt Bay during the winter months—” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, the only way he'll ever accumulate experience on that bar is to + give him the opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll take big risks. He's very young and headstrong.” + </p> + <p> + “I admit he's fiery. But I promised him a ship, and he's earned her sooner + than I planned, so, even if my decision loses the Quickstep for us, he + shall have her. I'll be swindled if I ever did see the like of that boy + Matt. He gets results. And do you know why, Skinner?” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” Mr. Skinner replied coldly, “he's a huge, healthy animal, able + and willing to fight his way in any ship, and at the same time clever + enough to take advantage of your paternal interest in him—” + </p> + <p> + “Rats! I'll give you the answer, Skinner, my boy: He gets results because + he does his duty and doesn't sidestep for man or devil. And he's able to + do his duty and do it well because he has a clear understanding of what + his duty is—and that, Skinner, is the kind of skipper material I've + been looking for all my life. As for the boy's horsepower, let me tell you + this: If Matt Peasley wasn't any bigger than I am, he'd fight any man that + tried to walk over him. It's in his breed. Damn it, sir, he's a Yankee + skipper, and when you've said that you're through. I guess I know. How + much have we been paying that bully Kjellin?” + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred a month.” + </p> + <p> + “Too much! Pay Matt two-twenty-five and attend to the certificate of + change of masters.” + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Skinner had departed Cappy sat back in his chair and closed his + eyes, as was his habit when his gigantic brain grappled with a problem of + more than ordinary dimensions. For fully ten minutes he sat absolutely + motionless, then suddenly he straightened up like a jack-in-the-box and + summoned Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” he said plaintively, “I'm feeling a little run down. Will you + please be good enough to book Florry and me passage to Europe right away. + I've never been to Europe, you know, Skinner, and I think it's time I took + a vacation.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner smiled. “Why all the hurry?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “I want to try out a theory,” Cappy replied. “I have a great curiosity, + Skinner, to ascertain if there is any truth in the old saying that absence + makes the heart grow fonder. And if it does, Skinner—why, the sooner + I start the sooner I can get back.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner went out mystified. As Mark Twain's friend, Mr. Ballou, + remarked about the coffee, Cappy Ricks was a little too “technical” for + him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. INTERNAL COMBUSTION + </h2> + <p> + The Quickstep had arrived in port again before Cappy Ricks and Florry + could get away to Europe, so Matt came down by train from Los Medanos and + was granted the meager comfort of a farewell with his heart's desire. + Thereafter all comfort fled his life, for, with Cappy Ricks away, Mr. + Skinner was high and low justice, and he was not long keeping Matt Peasley + in ignorance of the fact that it was one thing to skipper a Blue Star ship + for Cappy Ricks and quite another thing to skipper the same ship for the + Blue Star manager. For Mr. Skinner had never liked Captain Peasley, and, + moreover, he never intended to, for the master of the Quickstep was not + sufficiently submissive to earn the general manager's approbation as a + desirable employee, and Cappy Ricks was the only man with a will and a way + of his own who could get along amicably in the same office with the + efficient and cold-blooded Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + Cappy wasn't outside Sandy Hook before Mr. Skinner had Matt on the carpet + for daring to bring the Quickstep up river without a pilot. He demanded an + explanation. + </p> + <p> + “I made careful note of all the twists and turns when the pilot took me up + the first time,” Matt declared. “It isn't a difficult channel, so I + decided to save forty-five dollars the next time and take her up myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you'd buried her nose in the mud and we'd had to lighter her + deckload to get her off,” Mr. Skinner suggested. + </p> + <p> + Matt grinned. “If your aunt was a man she'd be your uncle, wouldn't she?” + he parried. He had made up his mind not to take Mr. Skinner seriously. Mr. + Skinner flushed, looked dangerous, but concluded not to pursue the + investigation further. + </p> + <p> + Three weeks later, when making up to a dock at San Pedro, a strong ebb + tide and a mistake in judgment swung the bow of the Quickstep into the end + of the dock and a dolphin was torn out. In the fullness of time the Blue + Star Navigation Company was in receipt of a bill for $112 dock repairs, + whereupon Mr. Skinner wrote Matt, prefacing his letter with the query: + “Referring to inclosed bill—how did this happen?” Then he went on to + scold Matt bitterly for his inability to handle his ship properly in + making up to a dock. + </p> + <p> + Matt promptly returned Mr. Skinner his own letter, with this penciled + memorandum at the bottom of the page: “Referring to inclosed bill for dock + repairs—the dock happened to be in my course. That's the only way I + can account for it.” + </p> + <p> + For some time, whenever the Quickstep carried shingle cargoes for the + Shingle Association, there had been disputes over her freight bill, due to + continued discrepancies between the tally in and the tally out, and Mr. + Skinner had instructed Matt to tally his next cargo into the ship himself + and then tally it out again. Matt engaged a certified lumber surveyor at + five dollars a day to do the tallying at the various mills, but at Los + Medanos he tallied the cargo out personally. To a shingle it agreed with + the mill tally. Subsequently the manager of the drying yard reported a + shortage of eight thousand shingles, and again Mr. Skinner wrote Matt for + an explanation, to which Matt replied as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Do not pay any attention to the yard manager's tally. Ours is right. A + certified tallyman counted 11,487,250 in, and I counted 11,487,250 out, as + I have already reported. Sorry I cannot reverse my decision. However, I + have an idea which may account for the shortage: After the vessel is + reported down river, the stevedores gather on the dock, and while waiting + for us to arrive and commence discharging they whittle shingles to pass + the time away. I give you this information for what it may be worth.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner had the grace to see that he had been rebuked and left + standing in a very poor light for one of his noted efficiency, so he did + not pursue the subject further; but the next time Matt came to the office + he jumped on him for carrying a dead-head passenger from San Pedro in the + first cabin. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I carried him,” Matt replied. “When I was before the mast in + the Annabel Lee he was her skipper, so when I met him in Pedro minus his + ticket and stony broke I gave him a lift to San Francisco. Mr. Ricks + informed me that I would be permitted these little courtesies within the + bounds of reason.” + </p> + <p> + “When Captain Kjellin had the Quickstep,” Mr. Skinner answered, “he never + carried dead-heads.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean he didn't have the courage to put the name on the passenger list + and write D. H. after it. However, please do not compare me with Captain + Kjellin.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're not making the time he made in the Quickstep.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, sir. My policy is to make haste slowly. Kjellin hurried—and + see what happened to him. He'll never be fast again, either, with that + short leg of his.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Peasley, I am opposed to your levity.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to worry and stew just because you do not happen to like + me and keep picking on me, Mr. Skinner? Why don't you be a sport and give + me a fair chance, sir? You have all the best of it in any argument—so + why argue?” + </p> + <p> + “No more dead-heads,” Mr. Skinner warned. “Hereafter, pay for your + guests.” + </p> + <p> + With the coming on of winter, however, Matt's troubles with Mr. Skinner + really commenced, although, in all justice to Skinner, the general manager + was merely following out his theory of efficiency, and in respect to the + matter upon which he deviled Matt Peasley most he did not differ vastly + from many managing owners of steam schooners on the Pacific Coast. The + trouble lay in the fact that the Quickstep carried passengers. While she + was a cargo boat, and hence had no regular run or sailing schedule, her + cabin accommodations were really very good and her steward's department + excelled that of the regular passenger boats. By cutting the regular + passenger rates from twenty-five to forty per cent. and advertising the + vessel to sail at a certain hour on a certain date from a certain pier, + free-lance ticket brokers found no difficulty in getting her a fair + complement of passengers each trip. There was a moderate profit in this + passenger traffic, and Mr. Skinner was anxious to increase it. + </p> + <p> + The difficulty surrounding the passenger business in the steam-schooner + trade, however, lies in the uncertainty of a vessel's arrival and + departure. It is all guesswork. Thus Matt Peasley, with his cargo half + discharged at San Pedro, would estimate that he would sail from that port, + northbound via San Francisco to some Oregon or Washington port for another + cargo, at noon on the following day. Accordingly, he would wire his + owners, who would immediately advertise the sailing of the vessel from San + Francisco forty hours later, the Quickstep's average running time between + San Pedro and San Francisco being about thirty-eight hours. If the + master's estimate proved correct and there were no strong head winds to + retard the vessel, she would sail within an hour or two of the advertised + time, whereas a delay of six to eight hours in the arrival of the vessel + at San Francisco might mean the loss of all the passenger business + garnered for that trip; for competition was keen, and the ticket agents, + selling on a commission of one dollar per ticket, would switch the traffic + to some other vessel sailing earlier rather than have the tickets canceled + and thus lose the commission. + </p> + <p> + When through delay or miscalculation the vessel lost passenger traffic out + of a port other than San Francisco, Mr. Skinner did not feel discouraged. + To lose passengers out of San Francisco, where the home office of the Blue + Star Navigation Company was located, however, savored of a reflection on + his efficiency, and caused him much bitter anguish. Consequently, when + Matt Peasley, with a full passenger list from Eureka to San Francisco, + wired Mr. Skinner that he would leave his loading port at two P. M. on + Wednesday, Mr. Skinner allowed him twenty-two hours for landing his + passengers from Eureka to San Francisco and taking on another load for San + Pedro, whither the Quickstep was bound on that voyage. As a result the + Quickstep was advertised to sail from San Francisco on Thursday at two P. + M., and the agents were notified to commence selling tickets. Judge of Mr. + Skinner's perturbation, therefore, when he received the following wireless + from Matt Peasley at five o'clock on Wednesday: + </p> + <p> + Bar breaking heavily. At anchor inside. Will cross out as soon as I judge + it safe to do so. + </p> + <p> + Three hours' delay, already, with the prospects exceedingly bright for the + Quickstep's lurking inside Humboldt Bar all night! Mr. Skinner saw his + passenger traffic gone to glory for that trip, so he sent a reply to Matt + Peasley by wireless, as follows: + </p> + <p> + You are advertised to sail from here for San Pedro at two o'clock + to-morrow. Hope you will permit nothing to militate against the + preservation of that schedule. Answer. + </p> + <p> + “That's what comes of having an inexperienced man in the vessel,” he + complained to the cashier. “That fellow Peasley sees a few white caps on + the bar, and he's afraid to cross out. Damn! Kjellin had her three years + and never hung behind a bar once. Many a time he's come down to Humboldt + Bar and found half a dozen steam schooners at anchor inside, waiting for a + chance to duck out. Did Kjellin drop anchor too? He did not. Out he went + and bucked right through it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner waited at the office until six o'clock to get Matt Peasley's + answer. He got it—between the eyes: + </p> + <p> + I have no jurisdiction over Humboldt Bar. + </p> + <p> + The Quickstep crossed out next morning, and Mr. Skinner wirelessed her + master this message: + </p> + <p> + Your timidity has spoiled San Pedro passenger business. Drop Eureka + passengers at Meiggs Wharf and continue your voyage. + </p> + <p> + Now it does not please any mariner to be told that he is timid, and, while + Matt Peasley made no reply, nevertheless, he chalked up a black mark + against Mr. Skinner and commenced to plan against the day of reckoning. + </p> + <p> + That was an unusually severe winter. Four times Matt Peasley came down to + the entrance to Humboldt Bar and came to anchor. Three times he tried to + cross out and was forced to change his mind; seven times did Mr. Skinner + upbraid him. The eighth time that Matt Peasley's caution knocked the San + Francisco passenger traffic into a deficit, Mr. Skinner sent him this + message where the Quickstep lay behind Coos Bay Bar: + </p> + <p> + What is the matter with you? Your predecessor always managed to negotiate + that bar, and this company expects same of you. + </p> + <p> + “He's bound to run me out of this ship,” Matt soliloquized when he read + that terse aerogram, “but I promised Cappy I'd stick six months and I'll + do it. That penny-pinching Skinner wants me to cut corners and get myself + into trouble so he can fire me. I'll not tell him the things I want to + tell him, so I guess I won't say anything—much.” + </p> + <p> + He didn't. He just wired Mr. Skinner as follows: + </p> + <p> + Any time you want to commit suicide I will furnish a pistol. + </p> + <p> + About the beginning of March Mr. Skinner opened his cold heart long enough + to let in a little human love and get married, and shortly thereafter he + found it necessary to make a business trip to the redwood mill of the + Ricks Lumber and Logging Company on Humboldt Bay. He went up on the + regular P. C. passenger boat and took his bride with him, and while he was + at the mill Matt Peasley came nosing in with the Quickstep and loaded a + cargo of redwood lumber. He finished loading on the same day that Mr. + Skinner discovered he had no further excuse for remaining away from the + office, in consequence of which the latter decided to return to San + Francisco on the Quickstep. This for several very good reasons: The food + on the Quickstep was better than the food on the regular liner, the + accommodations were fully as good, the vessel was loaded deeply and would + ride steadily—and Mr. Skinner and his bride would travel without + charge. + </p> + <p> + The sight of the Skinners coming aboard was not a pleasing one to Matt + Peasley. He did not like Mr. Skinner well enough to care to eat at the + same table with him, and he bethought him now of all the mean, nagging + complaints of the past six months. In particular he recalled Mr. Skinner's + instructions to him anent the carrying of dead-head passengers—and + suddenly he had a brilliant idea. He sent for his wireless operator and + ordered him to send this message: + </p> + <p> + Blue Star Navigation Company, San Francisco, Cal. + </p> + <p> + Please accept my resignation as master of your steamer Quickstep, said + resignation to take effect immediately upon my arrival in San Francisco. + Kindly have somebody on hand to relieve me. + </p> + <p> + Matthew Peasley. + </p> + <p> + Matt had just remembered that his six months in the Quickstep were up. His + next move was to call on the steward. + </p> + <p> + “Go into Stateroom 7,” he ordered, “and collect fifteen dollars from that + man and woman in there. They came aboard without tickets.” + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later the steward was back with word that the passengers in + question were dead-heads, being none other than the manager of the Blue + Star Navigation Company and his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Steward, you go back and tell that man Skinner that Captain Peasley never + carries any dead-heads on the Quickstep. Tell him that when Captain + Peasley wants to carry a guest he pays the guest's passage out of his own + pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “But he'll fire me, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Do as I order; he will not fire you. I'm the only man that has that + privilege, and I'll exercise it if you don't obey me.” + </p> + <p> + Two more minutes elapsed; then Mr. Skinner presented himself at the + captain's stateroom. + </p> + <p> + “Peasley,” he said sharply, “what nonsense is this?” + </p> + <p> + “No dead-heads on this ship, Mr. Skinner. Your own orders, sir. Fifteen + dollars, if you please. You're not my guests.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Mr. Skinner, “I shall do nothing of the sort.” + </p> + <p> + “Then get off the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, are you crazy?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not; I'm just disgusted with you. Fifteen dollars here and now + before I cast off the lines, or I'll run you off the ship. Don't tempt me, + Skinner. If I ever lay violent hands on you there'll be work for a + doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner was speechless, but he laid fifteen dollars on the captain's + desk and returned to his stateroom. His silence was ominous. Five minutes + later the Quickstep backed out from the mill wharf and headed down the + bay. As she plowed along, the rain commenced falling and a stiff southeast + breeze warned Matt that he was in for a wet crossing. He was further + convinced of this when the bar tug Ranger met him a mile inside the + entrance. She steamed alongside, and, as she passed, her captain hailed + Matt. + </p> + <p> + “Don't try to cross out, Peasley,” he shouted. “The bar is breaking.” + </p> + <p> + “The Quickstep doesn't mind it,” Matt answered. + </p> + <p> + “Don't try it, I tell you. I've been twenty years on Humboldt Bar and I + know it, Peasley. I've never seen it so bad as it is this minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we'll cross out without any fuss,” Matt called back cheerfully, and + rang for full speed ahead. They were down at the entrance, and the + Quickstep had just lifted to the dead water from the first big green + roller, when Mr. Skinner came up and touched Matt Peasley on the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir?” Matt demanded irritably. + </p> + <p> + “Drop anchor inside, captain. That bar is too rough to attempt to cross + out.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense!” Matt declared. + </p> + <p> + “But didn't you hear what that tug-boat captain said? He said it was + breaking worse than he had known it for twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! What does he know about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care what he knows, Captain Peasley; I order you not to attempt + to cross out. My wife is aboard and I'll take no chances. Come to anchor + and wait for the bar to settle.” + </p> + <p> + “You order me?” Matt sneered. “Who in blazes are you to give orders on my + ship? I'm at sea, you understand, and you have nothing to say. You'll give + your orders and I'll obey them when I'm at the dock, but crossing Humboldt + Bar, I'm the master of ceremonies. I can't turn back now. I'd lose my + rudder as I came about. Get out. Who invited you up here?” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you, sir?” Mr. Skinner cried furiously. “Man, have you lost your + mind? Obey me, I say.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley laughed blithely. “You miserable, cold-blooded, nagging old + woman,” he said, and took Mr. Skinner by the nape and shook him. “I've + prayed for this day. Do you remember the time you wired me at Coos Bay + that my timidity had lost you some passenger traffic? You impugned my + courage then, you whelp, and now I'm going to give you a sample of it. All + winter long you've been hounding me, trying to make me take chances + crossing this bar, just so the vessel might pick up a couple of hundred + dollars extra in passenger money. It didn't matter to you what risks other + men's wives ran when you were snug in your office, did it? You never + thought of the passengers I had aboard, or the lives of my crew or me, did + you? You wanted me to cut corners and risk human lives for the sake of + your reputation as an efficient manager, you—” And he shook Mr. + Skinner until the manager's teeth rattled. “Now you're aboard yourself + with your blushing bride, and how do you like it, eh? How do you like it? + You know all about navigation, don't you? Well, you and your wife are the + only passengers this trip, and I'm going to give you a taste of salt water + you'll remember till your dying day,” and with a shove he sent Mr. Skinner + flying aft until he collided with the funnel. + </p> + <p> + “You're fired!” Skinner screamed, beside himself with fear and rage. But + Matt Peasley was devoting all of his attention to the Quickstep now; and + it was well that he did. The vessel rose on the crest of a green comber + thirty feet high, and plunged with the speed of an express elevator into + the valley between that wave and the next. + </p> + <p> + A tremendous sea boiled in over the knight heads and swept aft, burying + the Quickstep until nothing showed but her upper works. But she was a + sturdy craft and came up from under it, rode the succeeding three seas and + was comparatively free of water when she shipped the next one. The crest + of it came in along the little promenade deck, carrying away the companion + that led to the bridge, staving in the doors and windows of all the + staterooms on the port side and carrying away the rails and stanchions. + There was two feet of water in Stateroom 7, where Mrs. Skinner clung to + her husband, screaming hysterically. + </p> + <p> + But despite the awful buffeting she was receiving the Quickstep never + faltered. On she plowed, riding the green billows like a gull, and + shipping a sea only occasionally. The deckload, double-lashed, held, + although the deckhouse groaned and twisted until Matt Peasley regretted + the impulse that had impelled him to do this foolish thing for the sake of + satisfying a grudge. + </p> + <p> + “She'll make it, sir,” the man at the wheel called up; but Matt's face was + a little white and serious as he tried to smile back. + </p> + <p> + Another sea came ramping aboard and snatched the port lifeboat out of the + davits, smashed in the door of the dining saloon and flooded it, gutted + the galley, and drove the cook and the steward to the protection of the + engine room. The chief called up through the speaking tube: + </p> + <p> + “How's the boss making it, captain?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a wet passage for him, chief. I can hear his wife scream every time + we ship one.” + </p> + <p> + “Serves her right for marrying the pest,” the chief growled, and turned + away. + </p> + <p> + They crossed out, but at a cost that made Matt Peasley shudder, when he + left the bridge in charge of the mate and went below to take stock of the + damage. A new boat and four days' work for a carpenter gang—perhaps + eighteen hundred dollars' worth of damage, not counting the demurrage! It + was a big price to pay for one brief moment of triumph, but Matt Peasley + felt that it would have been cheap at twice the money. He passed round on + the starboard side of the vessel and found Mr. Skinner wet to the skin and + shivering. + </p> + <p> + “We're over,” Matt announced cheerfully. “How did you like the going?” + </p> + <p> + “You villain!” Skinner cried passionately. “You'll never command another + ship in the Blue Star fleet, I'll promise you that.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, Skinner. But if I were you I'd go down in the engine room and + dry out while the cook and the steward straighten things round.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll discharge you the moment we tie up at the dock in San Francisco,” + Skinner stormed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, you won't,” Matt assured him. “I've beaten you to it. I resigned + by wireless before we left the dock at Eureka.” + </p> + <p> + That was a long, cold, cheerless trip for the Skinner family. The + Quickstep bucked a howling southeaster all the way down the coast, and the + Skinners were knocked from one end of their wet stateroom to the other and + slept not a wink. It was a frightful experience, and to add to the + discomfort of the trip Mrs. Skinner wept all the way. Eventually, however, + the Quickstep tied up at the wharf in San Francisco, and the minute she + was fast Matt Peasley, his accounts all made up to date and his clothes + and personal effects packed, sprang out on the dock. + </p> + <p> + “There's your ship, Skinner,” he called to the general manager. “I'm + through.” And he hastened away to the Blue Star office to settle up with + the cashier, while Mr. Skinner and his bride entered a taxicab and were + driven to their home. And two hours later when Mr. Skinner, warm and dry + at last, came down to the office to attend to the task of selecting a new + master for the Quickstep, he found Cappy Ricks was back from Europe and on + the job. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you've been having some experience,” said Cappy cheerfully as he + shook hands with his manager. “Peasley was telling me what he did to you, + and all the disrespectful things he said to you. Skinner, my dear fellow, + that was an outrageous way for him to act.” + </p> + <p> + “I fired him,” said Skinner waspishly. “And while we're on the subject let + me declare myself about this man Peasley; as long as I remain in your + employ, Mr. Ricks, that man must never command another Blue Star vessel. + Do I make myself sufficiently clear?” + </p> + <p> + “You do, Skinner; you do, indeed,” Cappy answered. “I warned Matt that if + you ever fired him, I'd have to back you up—and I'll do it, Skinner. + I'll sustain your decision, my boy. As long as you're my manager that + fellow can never go to sea under the Blue Star flag. The scoundrel!” + </p> + <p> + “And I wouldn't recommend him to any other owner either,” Mr. Skinner + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I'll not, Skinner. He will never go to sea again. I'm not going to have + his license taken away from him—er— Hum! Ahem! Harump-h-h-h! + But I'll see that he doesn't use it again. The fact is, Skinner, I'm er—getting—old—and—er—you're + pretty hard-worked in the lumber department, so I've—Hum! + Harump-h-h-h! decided to relieve you of the shipping entirely and hire + Matt for our port captain. He's on the pay roll at three hundred a month. + And—er—Skinner, try to be friendly with the boy for my sake. + The young rascal is engaged to marry my daughter, and I—er—it's + barely possible he'll take up the business—Hum! Ahem! I'll stick + round another year and break him into the landward side of shipping and + then, Skinner, d'ye know what I'm going to do then?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” Mr. Skinner asked dully. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to learn to play golf,” said Cappy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. SKINNER PROPOSES—AND CAPPY RICKS DISPOSES + </h2> + <p> + Having, as he thought, evaded the spirit of Mr. Skinner's ultimatum while + conforming to its literal terms, Cappy Ricks hurried home leaving his + general manager a stunned and horrified man. In this instance, however, + Cappy had erred in his strategy. Skinner was calm, cold-blooded, suave, + politic and deferential, but in his kind of fight he never bluffed. He + never played his hand until he had sufficient trumps to take the odd + trick. + </p> + <p> + He looked ahead now, into the not very distant future, and saw Matt + Peasley, husband of the heiress to the Ricks millions, giving him orders—and + the vision did not sit well on the general manager's stomach. + Consequently, Mr. Skinner decided for a test of strength at once. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, when Cappy Ricks came down to the office the following + morning, Mr. Skinner came into the old fellow's sanctum and requested an + interview. + </p> + <p> + “Fire away, my boy,” said Cappy amiably, yet with a queer sinking feeling + in his vitals, for he did not like the look in Skinner's eye; and + something told him there was blood on the moon. + </p> + <p> + “With reference to this rowdy, Peasley, whom you tell me you are going to + make port captain—” + </p> + <p> + “I also told you, Skinner, my boy, that he is to be my son-in-law,” Cappy + interrupted, like a good general bringing up his heavy artillery prior to + ordering a charge. “I beg of you, Skinner, whatever your animosities, to + bear in mind the fact that my daughter could not possibly engage herself + to a rowdy.” + </p> + <p> + “Out of respect to you and Miss Florence I shall not indulge in + personalities, sir,” Mr. Skinner replied smilingly, and Cappy shuddered, + for Mr. Skinner never smiled in a fight unless he had the situation well + in hand. “I have merely called to tell you that I have invested + seventy-five cents of my salary in a stout hickory pick-handle, and the + next time Captain Matt Peasley enters my office I shall test the quality + of the said pick-handle over his head. I don't care if he is engaged to + your daughter; the minute you bring that man into this office I go out. + You shall have my resignation instantly. That decision, Mr. Ricks, is + final and irrevocable.” And without giving Cappy an instant for argument + Mr. Skinner bowed himself out. + </p> + <p> + A month and Cappy Ricks remained minus his port captain; Mr. Skinner was + still strongly entrenched in his job as general manager. It was a hard + hand to beat, for the fact of the matter was that Cappy Ricks simply could + not afford to dispense with Mr. Skinner. The man was too honest, too + conscientious, too industrious, too brilliant, too efficient, not to be + reckoned with. To part with Skinner was like parting with a + dividend-producing gold mine; it was equivalent to unloading on Cappy's + shoulders again the burden of work and worry that would have killed him + ten years ago had he not surrendered it to Skinner, who handled it as a + juggler handles nine balls. Moreover, Skinner knew all of the business + secrets of the Ricks Lumber and Logging Company and the Blue Star + Navigation Company—why, he was an integral part of the business; + and, lastly, Cappy was fond of the man. + </p> + <p> + Skinner had come to him as office boy at the tender age of ten—and + that was twenty-five years before. A daily association for twenty-five + years would make a human being like Cappy fond of the devil himself; and, + barring the fact that he was cold-blooded, Skinner was a fairly likeable + chap, and devoted, body and soul to Cappy Ricks. The longer Cappy pondered + the thought of asserting his authority as boss and defying Skinner, the + more impossible the alternative became. Also the longer he thought of + having Matt Peasley kept out of the business by Skinner, the higher rose + his gorge, for Cappy had yearned for a son like Matt Peasley and been + denied. Now when he had planned successfully to do the next best thing and + have Matt for a son-in-law, to be blocked by Skinner was unbearable. All + Cappy could do was to search vainly for an “out,” and in the interim, + whenever he met Matt Peasley at his home, he carefully avoided all + reference to Matt's future in the Blue Star employ for which, by the way, + Matt was eternally grateful. He did not care to talk business with Cappy + for a month as yet. He was too happy with Cappy's daughter. + </p> + <p> + Another month passed. Cappy grew thin and lost his relish for his food. + Then Florence, being a woman, began to see, looming out of the rose-tinted + mist of her happy dreams, a huge interrogation mark. + </p> + <p> + She wondered what her father intended doing for her future husband; and + since she was accustomed to bossing her parent she spoke to Cappy about + it, thereby increasing his mental agony. + </p> + <p> + About the same time Matt Peasley commenced to wonder also, but forbore to + mention the subject to Cappy. Instead, he went down to the Red Stack + people and got himself a job skippering a tug; and great was his joy + thereat, for the wages were fully as good as he had enjoyed on the + Quickstep, and he was enabled to spend nearly every night in port. The two + months of idleness, albeit the happiest he had ever known, had commenced + to pall on him, and he wanted to be up and doing once more. Also, being a + man, he sensed something of the embarrassment of Cappy's position, and, + manlike, decided to relieve the old fellow of that embarrassment. Matt + concluded that he would retain his job as master of the tug Sea Fox for a + few months—say six—and then ask Cappy Ricks for twenty + thousand dollars, which amount would by that time be to his credit on the + Blue Star books by reason of his half-interest in the + seventy-five-dollar-a-day profit he and Cappy had annexed when + rechartering the steamer Unicorn. With that amount of money in hand, plus + the savings from his salary, he planned to marry Cappy's daughter and go + into business for himself as a ship, freight and marine insurance broker. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner heard of Matt Peasley's appointment as master of the tug Sea + Fox several hours before the same information reached Matt himself. The + general manager of the tugboat company, scanning Matt's application and + having a vacancy to fill, called up Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Skinner,” he said, “I have an application for a job as master for + one of our tugs from Captain Matthew Peasley. He tells me he was a couple + of years under the Blue Star flag, from A. B. to master of steam and sail, + with an unlimited license. Is he a good man?” + </p> + <p> + “We never had a more capable skipper in our employ,” said Mr. Skinner + truthfully. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you let him go then?” + </p> + <p> + “He resigned.” + </p> + <p> + “Under fire?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he quit voluntarily.” + </p> + <p> + “Honest?” + </p> + <p> + “Very.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what's wrong with him?” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't like me. But he's capable and fearless and a devil on wheels. + He'll take a ship anywhere and bring her out again whole.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he's my huckleberry. That's the kind of man for a tugboat skipper,” + was the reply, and Matt Peasley had the job, greatly to the joy of Mr. + Skinner, who realized now that his ultimatum to Cappy Ricks had been a + knockout blow. Cappy had surrendered, and the rowdy Matt, having given up + hope of a snug berth as port captain of the Blue Star Navigation Company, + had in despair sought a job with a tugboat company. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner was so happy he shelved his office dignity long enough to + whistle a popular ballad that had been running through his mind of late. + All too gladly had he recommended Matt Peasley for that tugboat job! He + would have employed anything, short of dishonorable methods, to rid the + Blue Star of that incubus! + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks almost wept with rage when his daughter informed him that Matt + had gone back to salt water. She was a little indignant over it, and + demanded a show-down from her unhappy father, who looked at her miserably + and said he'd think it over. + </p> + <p> + He did. Every afternoon, upon his return from luncheon he slid down on his + spine in his upholstered swivel chair, draped his old shanks over his + desk, dropped his chin on his breast, closed his eyes and went into a + clinch with the awful problem, with all its dips, spurs and angles. Save + for the nervous clasping and unclasping of his hands one would have + thought him sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + For a month no gleam of light filtered through the deep gloom of the old + gentleman's predicament. A dozen times had he reached forth to press the + push-button on his desk, summon Skinner and force the latter to do one of + two things; recede from his position or resign as general manager. Ten + times he had paused with his finger on the push-button. He simply could + NOT afford to dispense with Skinner! The eleventh time, however, grown + desperate from much brooding over his unhappy lot, Cappy pressed the + button. + </p> + <p> + “Send Mr. Skinner in,” he commanded bravely to the boy who answered his + summons. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner entered and stood awaiting Cappy's pleasure. On the instant + the old fellow was overcome by panic. Frantically he sought an “out.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, my dear boy,” he purred, “has it occurred to you that young + Tommy, the office boy, has been here long enough, and behaved himself well + enough, to merit a raise of about ten dollars a month?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner was a natural conservative and considerable of a pessimist. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I daresay he has, although I hadn't given the matter any thought, + sir. However, the way lumber has been selling the past few months, we + ought to be cutting salaries instead of raising them.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, Skinner, I know. But a boy needs some encouragement; he has to + have some concrete evidence of appreciation, er—er—attend to + it, Skinner, my boy, attend to it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner nodded and retired, leaving Cappy to grit his teeth and curse + himself for a poltroon. “It's certainly hell when a man of my age and + financial rating stands between his love and duty,” he mourned. “Darn that + fellow Skinner. If my bluff should fail to work and he got on his high + horse and quit, I'd have to climb off my high horse and beg him to return + to work. And he knows it. He knows I've been taking it easy so long I + never could bring myself to take up the burden of active business again. + Money! What does money mean if it can't buy happiness? Drat that devilish + Skinner. I wish to jiminy he had the burden of my dollars—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, overcome by a sudden brilliant thought. “Bully for you, Alden + P., you old, three-ply, copper-riveted, reinforced, star-spangled + jack-ass!” he murmured. “Why didn't you think of it before and save + yourself all this grief?” + </p> + <p> + His hand shot out once more to the push-button. “Send in Mr. Hankins, + sonny,” he ordered the office boy. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hankins was the cashier; also secretary of all of Cappy's companies, + of which Mr. Skinner was first vice president. He entered and stood + deferentially beside Cappy's desk. + </p> + <p> + “Hankins, my dear boy, bring me the stock certificates for my holdings in + the Ricks Lumber and Logging Company and the Blue Star Navigation Company. + I am going to indorse them, after which I wish you would reissue the stock + to me, less one hundred shares of each in the name of Mr. Skinner. Say + nothing to Mr. Skinner about this and bring the new certificates to me + immediately.” + </p> + <p> + When Hankins had complied with his request Cappy Ricks placed the Skinner + certificates in his pocket and went uptown to the office of his attorney. + He returned to his office within an hour and immediately sent for Mr. + Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, my dear boy,” began Cappy affably, “sit down. I want to have a + very serious talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing wrong, I trust,” Skinner began apprehensively, for Cappy's air + was very portentous. + </p> + <p> + “If there was,” Cappy snapped, “you wouldn't be here to-day. Some other + fellow would be holding down your job, and, I dare say, giving poor + satisfaction—by the way, my dear Skinner, something which you have + never done.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner flushed pleasurably and thanked his employer. + </p> + <p> + “Some twenty-five years ago,” Cappy continued, “you entered my employ as a + spindle-legged office boy. To-day you are my general manager, and a + rattling good one, too, even if we do have our little run-in together + every so often. We mustn't pay any attention to that, however, for a fight + is good for a man, Skinner. I maintain that it brings out all of his + virtues and vices where one can have an unobstructed view of them. + However, passing that, I decided a long time ago, Skinner, that you are + entitled to more than a mere salary—” + </p> + <p> + “My salary has been eminently satisfactory, sir—” Mr. Skinner began. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be an ass, Skinner,” Cappy interrupted tartly. “I wouldn't give two + hoots in hell for a satisfied man, unless he's his own man—understand. + You should have a more vital interest in the Ricks Lumber and Logging + Company and the Blue Star Navigation Company. We always make our skippers + own a piece of the vessels they command, so they will not be tempted to + rob us, for in robbing us they rob themselves. Consequently, thinking it + over, Skinner, I have decided to make you own a piece of both the + companies you manage, not because you may rob them but because I want to + reward you for faithful service. I had planned to do this in my will, but + I feel so healthy lately I think I'll live a long time yet, and there + isn't any real sense in keeping you waiting. What is the book valuation of + the Ricks L. & L. stock?” + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred eighty-seven thirteen, according to the last annual + report,” replied Skinner glibly. His eyes glistened. + </p> + <p> + “And the Blue Star stock?” + </p> + <p> + “Four hundred thirty-two twenty-seven.” + </p> + <p> + “Hump! Harump-h-h! It will be worth more when the Panama Canal is opened. + We'll have a crack at the Atlantic Seaboard market with our Pacific Coast + lumber, and the water freight will knock the rail rate silly. Besides, I'm + going to buy up a couple of large freighters, or build them, and that + stock of yours will pay dividends then. I'll soak you four hundred per + share for the Blue Star stock. Is that satisfactory?” + </p> + <p> + Nobody knew better than Mr. Skinner the fact that the Blue Star stock at + the book valuation was appraised very conservatively. He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Lumber market's up and down, down and up, and we never know where we + stand. Give you that at two-fifty a share. Want it?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say I do!” Skinner gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Then you owe me sixty-five thousand dollars. I'll take your promissory + note for it at five per cent., and you can pay the note out of your salary + and the dividends. You'll be in the clear in ten years at the very latest; + the stock I'm selling you now will be worth a hundred thousand—with + your management. Here's the contract, which embodies a promissory note. + Sign it, endorse the stock to me to secure the payment of the note, and + then clear out of here. Not a peep out of you, sir, not a peep. If you say + 'Thank you' I'll change my mind about selling.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner's hand trembled a little as he wrote his name across the backs + of the stock certificates and appended the same clear, concise signature + to the note. Silently he wrung Cappy's hand. + </p> + <p> + “Get out,” rasped Cappy. Mr. Skinner got out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII. CAPPY'S PLANS DEMOLISHED + </h2> + <p> + Four more months passed, and peace reigned in the offices of the Blue Star + Navigation Company. Matt Peasley's name had never been mentioned in Mr. + Skinner's presence since that dark day when he had ventured, for the first + time in his career, to lay down the law to Cappy Ricks. The pick-handle + still reposed behind Skinner's desk, but that was merely because he had + forgotten all about it, and nobody ever touched any of his property + without his permission. Not once had Matt Peasley's cheerful countenance + darkened the Skinner horizon. + </p> + <p> + This, then, was the condition of affairs when the office boy carried to + Mr. Skinner a piece of disquieting information—to wit, that Captain + Matt Peasley was without and desired to hold speech with Mr. Ricks. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him Mr. Ricks is too busy to see him,” Skinner ordered. Not having + heard anything of Matt for six months he concluded that the latter's + affair with the boss' daughter had languished and died a natural death; + hence he felt that he could defy Matt with impunity. Judge of his + surprise, therefore, when a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder later and + Matt Peasley stood glaring down at him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir!” said Skinner coolly. + </p> + <p> + “I heard you had a pick-handle waiting here for me,” Matt replied evenly, + “so I just dropped in to tell you that if you ever pull a pick-handle on + me I'll take it away from you and ram it down your throat. That's all I + have to say to you, Mr. Skinner. If, the next time I call, at Mr. Ricks' + invitation, to see him, you intercept my message and try to block my game—” + </p> + <p> + The great Peasley hand closed over Mr. Skinner's neck and felt of it + tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “Ouch!” gasped Mr. Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “Admit the brother,” Matt called to an imaginary sentry behind Cappy's + door. “He has given the password. The lodge has been duly opened and we + are now ready for business.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled at Mr. Skinner and passed on into Cappy Ricks' office. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Matt,” the latter hailed him pleasantly, “it's been a long time + since I've seen you in this office.” + </p> + <p> + “And it'll be a long time till you see me here again, sir,” Matt retorted + pleasantly. “I was about to call on you when your message reached me. So + suppose you tell me your business first. Then I'll tell you mine.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you won't, Matt,” Cappy challenged him, “because hereafter you're not + going to have any business unless I have a finger in it too. Matt, my son, + do you recall the day you quit the Quickstep?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure,” Matt assured him whimsically. + </p> + <p> + “You're vindictive; but no matter. Skinner declared you should never again + command a Blue Star ship while he was in my employ, and I said, by George, + that was right—you shouldn't. I said I was going to make you our + port captain, and eventually place you in charge of the shipping after I + had broken you in.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a curiosity, sir, to know why you didn't go through with that + program.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner wouldn't let me—said he'd quit if I did, and I just + couldn't afford to lose him, Matt. However, I have all that fixed up now, + so you quit that tugboat job of yours and come to work here as soon as you + can. I could have put you to work three months ago, right after I sewed + Skinner up, but I thought I'd wait a little while just to save poor + Skinner's face.” Cappy commenced to chuckle softly. “In-fer-nal rascal!” + he declared. “He had me where the hair is short, Matt; he had me where I + dassen't defy my own general manager! Yes, sir, that was the long and + short of it. I dassen't call his bluff, because he doesn't bluff worth a + cent, and I happen to know some of my competitors would like to get him + away from me. A good man is always in demand, Matt; never forget that. You + see, Skinner has been carrying the burden of this business for the past + ten years practically, and he threatened to toss that burden back on me. + Well, if he had, Matt, I just couldn't have carried it without competent + help—and by the time I had competent help broken in they'd be + measuring me for a tombstone.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you whip him into line?” Matt demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Just like spearing fish in a dry lake, boy,” Cappy chuckled. “I just sold + Mr. Skinner part of that burden, and now he has to carry it all until he + dies, because if he drops it he loses what I sold him. Only one way to + whip that boy into line, Matt, and that is to pelt him with dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do not see how that affects me,” Matt answered. + </p> + <p> + “You don't, eh? Why, you're the port captain of the Blue Star Navigation + Company, you-you-you bonehead, and Skinner has to stand for you now + whether he likes it or not. He'll not sacrifice his future to vent his + grudge against you, because he is a business man, Matt, and he knows it's + mighty poor business to bite off his nose to spite his face. So you just + come to work.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley beamed across at his future father-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “That was well done, sir,” he said, “and I wish I had known you were going + to do it. I would have saved you the trouble, because, you see, I never + intended to go to work for you in this office anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil you say!” Cappy interrupted. “Well, you just put some reverse + English on those intentions of yours, my boy. I know what's good for you.” + </p> + <p> + But Matt Peasley only shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do it, sir,” he said. “While deeply appreciative of all you want + to do for me, the fact is, if I'm going to marry your daughter—and I + am—I'm not going to do it on your money and be dependent upon you + for a job. I'll be my own man, Mr. Ricks. I never ask odds of any man, and + I don't like to work for a relative.” + </p> + <p> + “Damn your Yankee independence,” snapped Cappy angrily. “Why do you oppose + me?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I'll not have anybody saying: 'There goes Matt Peasley. He fell + into a good thing. Yes, indeed! Used to be a common A. B. until Alden P. + Ricks' daughter fell in love with him—and of course after that he + went right up the line in the Blue Star Navigation Company. He's a lucky + stiff.'” + </p> + <p> + “What do you care what people say? I know what I want.” + </p> + <p> + “I do care what they say, and I care what I feel. I want to fight my own + way. I want to make a wad of money and build up a business of my own—” + </p> + <p> + “You're crazy! Why, here's one ready-made, and it will stand all kinds of + building up—” + </p> + <p> + “Then let Skinner build it. I'll build my own. I do not want anybody to + think I married your daughter for your money.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt, you poor, chuckleheaded boy, listen to me. I intend doing for you—” + </p> + <p> + “And that,” roared Matt Peasley, smiting the desk, “is the very reason why + I shall not permit you to do anything for me. That's final, Mr. Ricks. I + hope you will realize it's useless to argue with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to by this time,” Cappy replied bitterly. “Very well, I've told + you my business with you. Suppose you state your business with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to draw twenty thousand dollars from my credit on the Blue Star + books.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! So you want to dig into that money the recharter of the Unicorn is + bringing you, eh, Matt?” + </p> + <p> + “If you can spare it, Mr. Ricks.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I can spare it—only I'll not. If you want that money, + Matt, sue for it; and since you haven't any documents to prove you have it + coming to you, I suppose you will agree with me that a suit would be + useless expenditure of time, money and energy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you will not give me the money, sir?” Matt Peasley demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Not a red,” said Cappy calmly. “We've fought this whole matter out + before, so why argue?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, indeed,” Matt answered, and reached for his hat. He was fighting mad + and desired to go away before he quarreled with Cappy. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go downstairs to the cigar stand and shake you the dice, one flop, + to see whether you go into business for yourself or come to work for me,” + Cappy pleaded. + </p> + <p> + Matt came to him and placed his great hands on the old man's shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “You're the finest man I ever knew, Mr. Ricks,” he said, “and you're the + meanest man I ever knew, so I'll not shake dice with you. You're too fond + of having your own way—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and you're the same, blast you!” Cappy shrilled, losing his temper + entirely. “Wait till you're my age. There won't be any standing you at + all. Get out!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV. A GIFT FROM THE GODS + </h2> + <p> + The barkentine Retriever, lumber laden from Astoria to San Francisco, lay + under the lee of Point Reyes in a dead calm. It was a beautiful, moonlit + night, with the sea as smooth as a fishpond, and Captain Michael J. + Murphy, albeit a trifle surprised at his proximity to the California coast—the + result of three days and nights of thick fog, which had suddenly lifted—was + not particularly worried. At eight o'clock he turned in, after warning the + mate to call him in case the Retriever should drift inshore. + </p> + <p> + “Never fear, sir,” the mate replied. “We'll have a puff of wind about + daylight at the latest, and the current sets north and south here rather + than toward the beach.” + </p> + <p> + For two hours after Captain Murphy had retired the Retriever rose and fell + gently on the slightest swell, her booms and yards swinging idly + amidships, her sails and cordage slatting listlessly as the vessel rolled. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the lookout shouted: “Steamer on the port bow!” and the mate, + following the direction indicated, made out the red and green sidelights + and the single white light at the short masthead of the approaching + vessel. + </p> + <p> + “Tug,” he announced to the man at the wheel. “Good enough! The lookout at + Point Reyes reported us, and the owners have sent a tug out to snake us + in.” + </p> + <p> + The mate's prognostication was correct in some particulars, for in about + half an hour the tug steamed slowly alongside the Retriever and hailed + her. + </p> + <p> + “Barkentine, ahoy!” + </p> + <p> + “Ahoy! Retriever, of the Blue Star, Astoria for San Francisco.” + </p> + <p> + “Sea Fox, of the Red Stack Line. Is Captain Murphy on deck?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I'll send for him,” the mate shouted, and forthwith sent a man + below to rout out the skipper. When Murphy came on deck and hailed the tug + he nearly fainted at the information that came floating across the water. + </p> + <p> + “Murphy, this is Matt Peasley speaking.” + </p> + <p> + “Not Matt Peasley that used to command this old box—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't speak disrespectfully of my first command, Mike—” + </p> + <p> + “And you're only a tug captain—a dirty, thieving, piratical towboat + man, holding up every honest skipper that pokes his nose into San + Francisco Bay. Matt, I'm ashamed of you. How are you anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine, Mike. Want a tow?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't need one; I'll have a bit of breeze before long. I'm independent + of you!” + </p> + <p> + The tug crept in closer. “Don't be foolish, Mike; better let me slip you a + line.” + </p> + <p> + “How much will it cost, Matt? None of your highway robbery now. Be easy on + the Retriever for old times' sake.” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand dollars,” Matt Peasley answered pleasantly, and was rewarded + with a volley of oaths from Mike Murphy and his crew. + </p> + <p> + “You're a thief!” yelled Murphy. + </p> + <p> + “And you're a fool, Mike. You're not more than two miles off the breakers, + you're in a calm that may last two days, and when the tide is at flood + you'll set in on the beach as sure as death and taxes—and then I'll + have a salvage job that will cost your owners not one thousand but ten.” + </p> + <p> + “You go to the devil!” was Murphy's reply to this, and the Sea Fox dropped + astern and came round on the starboard bow of the Retriever. In she + backed, a foot at a time, and Captain Murphy, up on the topgallant + fo'castle, was within easy conversational distance of Matt Peasley, + standing on the grating at the stern of the Sea Fox. + </p> + <p> + “Better grab this heaving line, Mike,” Matt suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Come aboard and have a drink, Matt, but leave your line behind you,” + Murphy answered hospitably. + </p> + <p> + The Sea Fox drifted down fifteen or twenty feet, swung slowly, headed out + to sea, and then backed gingerly in until her stern was within a few feet + of the side of the Retriever. + </p> + <p> + “Hey, you! What d'ye mean to do? Back into her?” yelled Matt Peasley to + his mate. “Full speed ahead! Quick!” + </p> + <p> + A bell jangled in the bowels of the Sea Fox, her great screw churned the + water and she shot out from the Retriever. + </p> + <p> + “That's right! Go clear over to China, and expect me to haggle with this + man through the megaphone, eh?” Matt roared. “Back up again!” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, Matt, there isn't the slightest use hanging round for us,” + Murphy warned the towboat skipper. “I wouldn't let the ship be held up by + anybody, least of all a towboat man.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, when the lookout on Point Reyes telephoned into our office that the + Retriever was inside the Point, I made up my mind I'd come out and get + her, and I don't purpose being disappointed,” Matt replied jokingly. “I'll + just wait until you drift into the breakers, and then you'll do business + with me, never fear.” + </p> + <p> + “G'wan!” snorted Murphy. “How's Cappy Ricks, the old villain?” + </p> + <p> + “He's fine, Mike. He wanted me to work for him, but I don't like his + general manager—Mr. Olson, full speed ahead or you'll smash our + stern against this barkentine. Steady! That's better. Astern a trifle. + Steady! Mike, how've you been since I saw you last?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV. A DIRTY YANKEE TRICK + </h2> + <p> + “Skinner,” said Cappy Ricks, “I was called out of my bed at five o'clock + this morning by the night operator at the Merchants' Exchange. He told me + our Retriever was in the breakers just south of Point Reyes, but that a + tug was standing by. What have you heard since?” + </p> + <p> + “She drifted in there in a calm last night, sir,” Mr. Skinner replied. + “Fortunately the Point Reyes lookout had reported her early yesterday + evening, and one of the Red Stack tugs—the Sea Fox—took a + chance and went out seeking. Lucky thing for us—” + </p> + <p> + “The tug hauled her off then?” + </p> + <p> + “Got a line aboard just in time. I had a telephone message from Captain + Murphy at Meiggs Wharf ten minutes ago. The Retriever is anchored in the + fairway.” + </p> + <p> + “What tug did you say it was?” Cappy queried. + </p> + <p> + “The Sea Fox.” + </p> + <p> + “That's Matt Peasley's command,” Cappy mused. “Lucky? I should say we are! + It's up to the master of the tug very frequently whether, under such + conditions, his task has been a mere towage job at the going rates or a + salvage proposition to be settled in court. I dare say Matt will give us + the benefit of the doubt and call it towage.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't deceive yourself!” Skinner snapped. “It's salvage; Murphy said so. + After he got close in Peasley refused to name a price and came aboard and + made Murphy sign a paper acknowledging that his ship was in distress and + dire peril, before he would even put a line aboard him—” + </p> + <p> + “Wow! Wow! The tugboat company will libel the ship now, and sue us for + fifty thousand dollars' salvage on vessel and cargo,” and Cappy groaned, + for he owned both. “By George!” he continued. “I didn't think Matt would + do anything like that to me. No, sir! If anybody had told me that boy + could be such an ingrate I'd have told him—” + </p> + <p> + A youth entered Cappy's office uninvited. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Peasley to see you, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Show the infernal fellow in,” rasped Cappy, and Matt Peasley stalked into + the room. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see you privately, Mr. Ricks,” he announced, and cast a + significant glance at Skinner, who took the hint and left the room at + once. + </p> + <p> + Matt sat down. “Well,” he said, “I guess the tug Sea Fox and owners, + together with her doughty skipper and crew, will finger some of your + hard-earned dollars before long, Mr. Ricks. I pulled your barkentine + Retriever out of the breakers this morning. In fifteen minutes she would + have been on the beach and a total loss—and I have a document, + signed by Captain Murphy and his mates, to prove it. I offered the + pig-headed fellow a tow at ten o'clock the night before, but he declined + it—trying to save a few dollars, of course—so when I had him + where he had to have my services—” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” Cappy snapped, “send your owners round and we'll try to settle out + of court. If they're hogs we'll fight 'em, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you do you'll get licked. We'll get a quarter of the value of that + vessel and her cargo. She's easily worth fifty thousand dollars and her + cargo is worth thirty thousand more—that's eighty thousand, and a + quarter of eighty thousand dollars is twenty thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll have to fight for it, I tell you,” Cappy reiterated. + </p> + <p> + “There is no necessity for a fight, Mr. Ricks. It all rests with me + whether this is a salvage job or just a plain towing job at the customary + rates.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy looked at his ex-skipper keenly. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he charged, “you've got a scheme. You want something.” + </p> + <p> + “I do; I want to save you a lot of fuss and worry and expense. In return I + want you to do something for me.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do it, Matt. What is the program?” + </p> + <p> + “Give me that twenty thousand dollars you justly owe me—twenty + thousand dollars I have to my credit on your books, which you are + withholding just because you have the power to withhold it.” + </p> + <p> + “And in return—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tear up the deadly document I extorted from Murphy and report a mere + towage job to my owners.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy pressed the push-button and a boy appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Mr. Skinner I want to see him,” he ordered, and an instant later Mr. + Skinner entered. “Skinner,” said Cappy, “draw a check for twenty thousand + in favor of Matt Peasley, and charge it to his account.” + </p> + <p> + “And then send it over to the bank and certify it,” Matt added, “because + before I get through with you, Mr. Ricks, you'll be tempted to stop + payment on it, if I know you—and I think I do.” + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later Cappy handed Matt Peasley, a certified check for twenty + thousand dollars, and in exchange the latter handed Cappy the only proof + the Red Stack people would have had, over and above the contradictory + testimony of the crews of the respective vessels, that the services of + their tug constituted salvage and not towage. Cappy read it, tore it into + shreds and glared at Matt Peasley. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he said very solemnly, “I'm glad this thing happened. I've always + had a good opinion of you, but now I know that though you have many + excellent qualities you do not possess that quality which above all others + I require in an employee or a son-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “You aren't loyal. You had the sweetest case of salvage against our vessel + that any man could go into court with, and you kicked it away like that, + just for your own selfish ends. You sacrificed your shipmates, who would + have been awarded a pro rata of the salvage, and you were false to the + trust your owners reposed in you.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy stood up, his face pale with fury, and shook an admonitory finger + under Matt Peasley's nose. + </p> + <p> + “That act, sir, is an index of your true character,” he thundered. “A + master who will deceive his owners, who will be false to their interests, + is a scoundrel, sir; do you hear me?—a scoundrel. You will oblige + me, sir, by refraining from any attentions to my daughter in the future. + To think that you have descended to such a petty, miserable subterfuge to + trick me and rob your owners! Thank God, I have found you out in time!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, isn't it fortunate?” Matt answered humorously. “And if you get any + angrier you'll bust an artery and die.” + </p> + <p> + “Out of my office!” Cappy raved; for though he was a business man, and + never hesitated to do business in a businesslike way, he was the soul of + business honor, and in all his life he had never taken a mean or unfair + advantage of those who trusted him. The knowledge that Matt Peasley had + done such a thing filled him with rage not unmixed with sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be gone in a minute,” Matt replied gently; “only before I go permit + me to tell you something, and on my honor as a man and a sailor I assure + you I speak the truth. That wasn't a salvage job at all.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + Matt repeated the statement. Cappy blinked and clawed at his whiskers. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” he said presently, “I had forgotten that you and Captain Murphy were + once shipmates. And so that fellow Murphy stood in with you to work a + hocuspocus game on me, eh?” he thundered. “By Godfrey, I'll fire him for + it!” and he rushed to the office door, opened it and called to Skinner: + “Skinner, Murphy is to be fired. Attend to it.” Then he closed the door + again and faced Matt Peasley. + </p> + <p> + “Murphy is to be reinstated,” Matt assured Cappy, “for the reason that + Murphy was in deadly earnest when he signed that paper. In five minutes he + would have been a skipper without a ship, and he knew it. If you fire + Murphy you do a fine man a terrible injustice.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, how in blue blazes did he get so close to the beach and let himself + into your clutches?” Cappy raved. + </p> + <p> + “He couldn't answer that question, sir. He doesn't know. He thinks the + current set him in there. It didn't. I set him in there.” + </p> + <p> + “You set him in?” Cappy queried incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “I set him in. I kept backing up on his starboard counter, ostensibly to + dicker with him, and as soon as I had the stern of my tug within a few + feet of the Retriever I'd signal my mate at the wheel, he'd give the + engineer full speed ahead—why you have no idea of the force of the + quick water thrown back from that big towing propeller of the Sea Fox. The + rush of it just swung the Retriever's nose slowly toward the beach and + kicked her ahead fifteen or twenty feet, and then her sheer momentum + carried her thirty yards farther. By that time I was backed up to her + again, bargaining with Murphy, and ready for another kick. It was easier + after the flood tide set in, and I kept at her all night long, and + gradually kicked her into the breakers, where I wanted her. I knew Murphy + would listen to reason then. So you see, Mr. Ricks, it wasn't a salvage + job, and I didn't betray my owners at all—” + </p> + <p> + “You Yankee thief!” Cappy yelled, and dashed at Matt, to enfold the + son-in-law-to-be in a paternal embrace. “Oh, Matt, my boy, why do you want + to be a tugboat man when I need a man with your brains? Why don't you be + sensible and listen to reason?” + </p> + <p> + Matt held the old man off at arm's length and grinned at him + affectionately. + </p> + <p> + “It's worth twenty thousand dollars to get the better of you, sir,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + Cappy sat down very suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes,” he said. “Speaking of money reminds me: What do you intend + doing with that twenty thousand dollars?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I thought at first I'd go into the shipping business for myself—” + </p> + <p> + “Skiffs or gasoline launches—which?” Cappy twitted him. + </p> + <p> + “But you seem bent on having your way, and Florry is making such a fuss, I + suppose I'll have to give in to you after all.” + </p> + <p> + Matt stepped to the door, opened it and called: “Mr. Skinner!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner looked up from his desk by the window. “Well, sir!” he + demanded haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “Murphy is not to be fired,” Matt answered. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! And by whose orders?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine! I'm the port captain of the Blue Star Navigation Company, and, + beginning now, I'm going to do all the hiring and firing of captains.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner turned pale. He started from his chair and made two steps + toward Cappy Ricks' office, firmly resolved to present his resignation + then and there. At the door, however, he thought better of it, hesitated, + returned to his desk and sat down again, for he had suddenly remembered, + and, remembering, discovered that Cappy Ricks had laid upon him a burden + that must be reckoned with—the burden of his own future. He flushed + and bit his lips; then, feeling Matt Peasley's eyes boring into the small + of his back, he turned and said: + </p> + <p> + “I have every reason to believe, Captain Peasley, that you are the right + man in the right place.” + </p> + <p> + Matt advanced upon him and held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Ricks has always bragged that you could think quicker and act quicker + in an emergency than any man he ever knew. He's right, you can. Suppose we + bury that pick-handle, Mr. Skinner?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner's lips twitched in a wry smile, but he took Matt Peasley's + hand and wrung it heartily, not because he loved Matt Peasley or ever + would, but because he had a true appreciation of Abraham Lincoln's + philosophy to the effect that a house divided against itself must surely + fall. “I'm sure we'll get along famously together,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You know it,” Matt answered heartily, and stepped back into Cappy's + office. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Cappy, “that was mighty well done, Matt. Thank you. So you + think you'll quit the Sea Fox and be my port captain, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do not, Matt. The fact of the matter is, your business education + is now about to commence, and about two minutes ago I suddenly decided + that you might as well pay for it with your own money. I have no doubt + such a course will meet with the approval of your independent spirit + anyhow. You're a little too uppish yet, Matt. You must be chastened, and + the only way to chasten a man and make him humble is to turn him loose to + fight with the pack for a while. Consequently I'm going to turn you loose, + Matt; there are some wolves along California Street that will take your + twenty thousand away from you so fast that you won't know it's going till + it's gone. But the loss will do you a heap of good—and I guess + Florry can wait a while.” + </p> + <p> + He paused and eyed Matt meditatively for fully a minute. + </p> + <p> + “And you kicked my barkentine ashore with the quick water from your tug's + propeller,” he mused aloud. “Got her where you wanted her—and Murphy + didn't suspect! He laid it to the current!” Cappy shook his head. “A dirty + Yankee trick,” he continued, “and I love you for it—in fact, it + breaks my heart not to make good that grandstand play you just pulled on + Skinner, but I've changed my mind about hiring you yet. I'm just going to + sit back and have some fun watching you defend that little old + twenty-thousand dollars I just gave you. Do you know, Matt, that I never + knew a man to save up a thousand dollars, by denying himself many things, + that he didn't invest the thousand in a wild-cat mine or a dry oil well? + Ah, Matt, it's those first few dollars that come so hard and go so easy + that break most men's hearts; but here you are with twenty thousand that + came so easy I've just naturally got to see how hard they go! You'll be + worth more money to me, Matt, and you'll be a safer man to handle this + business when I'm gone, if you go out and play the game for a while by + yourself. You have a secret itching to do it anyhow, Matt, and in + surrendering to me just now you went down with your colors flying. You + just wanted to be kind to the old man, didn't you? Well, I appreciate it, + Matt, because I'm an old man, and I know how hard it is for a boy to yield + to an old man's wishes; but youth must be served, and God forbid that I + should rob you of the joy of the conflict, my boy. When you're busted flat + and need some more money, you may have it up to the amount to your credit + on our books. And when that's gone I guess you'll make a better port + captain than you will this morning. Does that program suit you better than + the one I originally outlined?” + </p> + <p> + Matt flushed and hung his head in embarrassment, but answered truthfully: + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Cappy, relapsing into one of his frequent + colloquialisms, “go to it, boy. Eat it up.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI. CAPPY FORBIDS THE BANS—YET + </h2> + <p> + Cappy Ricks sat at breakfast, tapping meditatively on the apex of a boiled + egg, when his daughter swished into the room, saluted her interesting + parent by depositing a light kiss on his bald and ingenuous head, and took + her place at the table. + </p> + <p> + Florence Ricks was a radiant vision in a filmy pink breakfast gown and + cap, and as she smiled perkily at Cappy he returned her bright look with + one a trifle sad and yearning. + </p> + <p> + “Florence, my love,” said Cappy gently, “have you, by any chance, talked + with that big, two-fisted sailor of yours within the past twelve hours?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head negatively, tilting her nose and pursing her lips in an + adorable grimace of disapproval. + </p> + <p> + “Since Matt Peasley has been master of that tug I see him only when his + owners cannot find something more important for him to do. Why do you pop + that question at me so suddenly? Did you want to see him about something?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I saw him yesterday forenoon, and we went into a clinch and fought + each other all over my private office. Matt got the decision. I thought he + might have called you up to discuss with you his plans for the future. + When he left me yesterday he was on his way back to the office of the Red + Stack Tugboat Company to tell the port captain he could stick some other + skipper on the tug Sea Fox.” + </p> + <p> + Florence clapped her hands ecstatically. “Oh, goody, goody!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it might be worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Why is he resigning? To go to work for you, as I wanted him to do six + months ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll tell you, Florry,” Cappy began. “I know you're going to be + disappointed, but the fact of the matter is we've just got to let that boy + paddle his own canoe—though, to hear him talk, he's going to operate + his own line of steamers! Matt doesn't think in canoes when the subject of + the merchant marine is up for discussion any more than I think in cent + pieces when I'm wrestling with a banker for a loan. He has resigned from + the tug Sea Fox to go into business for himself!” + </p> + <p> + “But how can he? He hasn't any money, you silly man!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, he has. I gave him twenty thousand dollars yesterday. He had + that much credit on the Blue Star books from his share of the recharter of + the steamer Unicorn nearly two years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought you weren't going to give him any of that money,” Florence + protested. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so, too,” Cappy answered dryly; “but the scoundrel put up a + low-down job on me and pried the twenty thousand loose,” and Cappy + proceeded to relate to Florry the sad tale of the salvage of the + Retriever. + </p> + <p> + Florence was gifted with the same lovable sense of humor that + distinguished her father; and, somewhat to his annoyance, she laughed long + and heartily at this tale of how her fiance had vanquished him. + </p> + <p> + “And then what?” she queried with childish insouciance. + </p> + <p> + “Why, then he made friends with Skinner and, to my complete amazement, + surrendered without firing a shot. He said he'd be my port captain now; + whereas six months ago he said it was against his religion to work for a + relative, and that he wanted to go into business for himself. And only the + day before he'd reiterated those sentiments.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so glad!” said Florry, much relieved. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” said Cappy dramatically. “Don't cheer yet. I've upset your apple + cart, my dear. I rejected the young man's proposition and condemned him to + a business of his own.” + </p> + <p> + “But you wanted him for your port captain, Daddy dear. You wanted him the + very worst way.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's just how I got him, Florry. I don't want any man whose heart + is not in his job, and a business man should never surrender for + sentimental reasons. You cannot mix sentiment and business, daughter; if + you do you'll get chaos. Matt Peasley surrendered to me—not because + he wanted to, but to please you. You've been picking on him rather hard + lately, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + Florry admitted it. + </p> + <p> + “I knew it,” Cappy declared. “I knew it—and that's why I exercised + the veto on you, Florry.” + </p> + <p> + Florry's eyes dropped, and in the corners of them her father thought he + detected a glint of tears; whereupon he attacked his egg vigorously. After + a brief silence he said: + </p> + <p> + “Of course that means a slight delay in your plans for a June wedding—” + </p> + <p> + A tear crept through Florry's long lashes and dropped unheeded into her + grapefruit. Cappy saw it drop, but resolved to be cruel and ignore it. + </p> + <p> + “The infernal schemer couldn't resist the temptation to take a fall out of + your old man, Florry; so naturally I had to take a fall out of him; + though, at that, I have doubts whether I succeeded. I think I played into + his hand; and now I'm telling you about it to save him the trouble and + grief of an explanation he couldn't make and which you wouldn't understand—from + him. Some day my affairs will all be yours, Florry—yours and Matt's; + and he'll have to manage them for you. To manage them well, he must have + experience; hence, I decided, in about two flips of a humming-bird's tail, + that it would be a mighty good thing for you and Matt if I forced him into + business for himself and, as I informed him, let him pay for that + experience with his own money; for that is the only kind of money that + will buy him any experience worth while. No young man ever learned a great + deal when some sentimental old fool footed the bill for his tuition fees + in the college of hard knocks.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Matt!” Florry sobbed. “He hasn't—had anything—except + hard knocks since he was—fourteen years—old.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” shrilled Cappy; “and just look at the difference between him and + these la-di-da boys that never had any hard knocks! Hard knocks! Why, hard + knocks keep that devilish fellow in condition!” + </p> + <p> + “But I'd planned—we didn't want to have too long an—engagement—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll guarantee you, little daughter, you will not have to wait longer + than six months. Please wait—for my sake.” And Cappy rose, made his + way round the breakfast table and placed his old arms about the light and + joy of his existence. “So, so, now!” he soothed. “Don't you cry, honey, + until you hear what the old man has to say. Why, haven't I always given my + little daughter everything she wanted? You wanted that big sailor, Florry; + I saw he wanted you; and he looked awful good to me. I knew he was man, + every inch of him; he was our kind of people and he knew ships and loved + them, and so I wanted him for you. What if he was a big hunk of a sailor + with hardly enough money saved up to buy you half a dozen party dresses? + None of the Ricks tribe was ever born or bred in the purple—and I + have money enough for all practical purposes. So I went after him for you, + Florry, and you're going to get him; so don't cry about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Life is so filled with disappointments,” Florry sobbed, notwithstanding + this was the first she had ever known. + </p> + <p> + Cappy smiled a still small smile as he bent over her. + </p> + <p> + “Fiddlesticks!” he replied. “Only the day before yesterday Matt told me he + didn't want to work for me; that he didn't want a relative handing him any + favors; and that he wasn't marrying you to ease himself into a soft job + for life. He said he wanted to make the fight himself. And do you know, + Florry, if he had been my own boy I couldn't have been prouder of him than + when he told me that! When old What-you-may-call-him in Shakespeare's play + said: 'Let me have men about me that are fat,' it showed how blamed little + Shakespeare knew about men. He should have said: 'Let me have men about me + who are long and tough, and fairly thick in the middle; let me have + scrappy boys about me with backbone!' + </p> + <p> + “Well, in a way, Florry, I was disappointed, and perhaps, in the heat of + the moment, I showed it, as I have a habit of doing; but after Matt had + left the office, and I got to thinking it over, away down low I was proud + of him. Consequently when he reversed his decision yesterday I knew why, + for I lived twenty-five years with your mother. But a woman's love is + selfish sometimes, and I knew that Matt had surrendered, not to me, but to + you; though he came across like a sport, he didn't want to, for you'd + roweled him and roped him with your love, my dear—and, though you do + not know it, that's a terrible thing to do to a free-running colt like + Matt Peasley. He has his code, and it's a bully code; and I don't want you + to tie knots in it, Florry. Won't you be as spunky and independent as he + is, and give him his head for six months more? He'll probably call + sometime to-day, or ring up, to tell you how I picked holes in the + program; and when he does I want you to smile and tell him you're glad of + it, and suggest a postponement of the wedding until he has demonstrated to + me that he is a business man.” + </p> + <p> + Florence looked up and bravely smiled a forgiving smile through her tears. + </p> + <p> + “You're a dreadful Buttinsky, Daddy Ricks!” she protested. + </p> + <p> + He kissed her hungrily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm a devil in my own home town!” he replied, and trotted back to his + neglected breakfast. “If Matt hasn't made good as a business man within + six months, or has lost his bank roll—and I intend to see to it that + he does lose it, if I ever get a hack at him—we'll pull off this + wedding anyhow. I guess there's room enough in this house for three.” + </p> + <p> + At nine o'clock Cappy Ricks, with a lilt in his heart, drove down to his + office behind his team of high-stepping bays. At the corner of California + and Drumm Streets he saw Matt Peasley and hailed him. The latter came to + the carriage door and looked in. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, Matt,” Cappy said with a cunning wink. “I've fixed + Florry's clock for her. There won't be the slightest trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley wrung his hand gratefully. + </p> + <p> + “I quit the Sea Fox last night,” he announced gladly. + </p> + <p> + “Going into business this morning, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What line?” + </p> + <p> + “Ship, freight and marine insurance broker.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's a line that will keep you hustling for your wheatcakes until + you get well acquainted. However, just to give you a shove in the right + direction, you might scout round the market and see whether you can dig up + a cargo for our steamer Tillicum. Usual commission of two and a half per + cent.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Ricks. I ought to be able to scare up something in the way + of a foreign lumber cargo for her.” + </p> + <p> + “We've tried and failed. Moreover, her fuel-oil tankage isn't sufficient + to take her too far foreign and back; added to which she is under American + registry, employing American seamen, and I'd rather lay her up than put a + coolie crew aboard and compete with the British tramps, with their Lascar + and Chinamen, at six and seven dollars a month. We've been running her in + our own trade; but the lumber market is very dull and she has but one more + cargo in sight; after that is freighted, unless we can find outside + business for her, she'll have to lay up in Oakland Inner Harbor until the + Panama Canal opens—when, of course, we can load her for the Atlantic + seaboard. She carries nearly two million feet, and that's what makes it so + hard for us to keep her busy coastwise.” + </p> + <p> + “How about some Mexican or Central American business—general cargo?” + Matt suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty hard stuff to get. The Pacific Mail has most of the Central + American business; and, owing to the political situation in Mexico, that + trade is practically killed. Every vessel that gets in there has trouble + with one faction or the other; they're liable to confiscate, and then we'd + have to call on the navy to get our ship back for us.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll look round for a grain charter to Honolulu and return with sugar or + general cargo.” + </p> + <p> + “We might do that,” Cappy suggested, brightening. “Good luck to you, Matt—and + don't be a stranger.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII. MATT PEASLEY BECOMES A SHIPOWNER + </h2> + <p> + A youth thrust a wary nose into Cappy Ricks' private office and announced + Captain Matt Peasley was desirous of admittance. + </p> + <p> + “Show him in,” Cappy ordered, and Matt entered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, young man,” said Cappy briskly, “sit down and tell me of your + adventures during your first week as a business man. Of course, I hear + from Florry that you have opened a dink of an office somewhere—got + desk space with the Alaskan Codfish Corporation, haven't you, with the use + of their telephone, stenographer and general office boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. The manager, Slade, is a native of Thomaston—never knew + anything but fish all his life; and, inasmuch as I was raised on the Grand + Banks, I got in the habit of drifting round there occasionally, and Slade + offered me the privilege of making it my headquarters. Ten dollars a month—cheap + enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, considering the aroma of codfish that goes with it, free-gratis,” + Cappy admitted dryly; “but then I suppose that's what attracted you in the + first place. But have you done any real business, Matt?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've arranged with several good old-line insurance companies to + accept any marine-insurance business I may bring in, though I haven't sold + any yet; neither have I been able to find a load for your Tillicum. By the + way, you have a little old three-legged schooner laid up in Oakland Inner + Harbor.” + </p> + <p> + “I have three of them—more's the pity!” Cappy replied—“the + Ethel Ricks, the Nukahiva and the Harpoon. Which one do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “The Ethel Ricks. She's the only one I examined closely. Would you + consider selling her?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Cappy, “I perceive. Your friend Slade wants her for a + codfisher, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “That's all she's good for now, Mr. Ricks. She has had her day in the + lumber trade; the steam schooners have relegated her to a final resting + place in the ooze of Oakland Inner Harbor; her class of windjammers is a + thing of the past for general cargo. She's been laid up now for three + years. True, her bottom is coppered and you dry-dock her every year; but + that's an expense. And then you must consider taxes and depreciation, and + sooner or later, if she lies in the mud long enough, the Teredo will eat + her up; so it occurred to me that you might be glad to sell. She was built + in 1883, but she was built to last—” + </p> + <p> + “Never built a cheap ship in my life and never ran 'em cheap,” Cappy + challenged proudly. “The Ethel Ricks is in the discard, but she's as sound + a little packet as you'll find anywhere. She's had the best of care. The + same is true of the Harpoon and the Nukahiva.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want for her?” + </p> + <p> + “Four thousand dollars,” Cappy answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “I was offered the Dandelion for three thousand; she's ten years younger + than the Ethel Ricks and in very good condition. Sorry, but I guess you'll + have to keep the Ethel—and let me tell you, the longer you keep her + the less she's worth. However, I guess she doesn't owe you anything.” + </p> + <p> + “No; she paid for herself more'n twice,” Cappy replied. + </p> + <p> + “Then if you get three thousand for her it's like finding the money and + losing a worry.” + </p> + <p> + “Sold!” said Cappy. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say I'd buy,” Matt warned him. “What do you want for the Harpoon + and the Nukahiva?” + </p> + <p> + “They're all sister ships. Three thousand each.” + </p> + <p> + “I am empowered to make you an offer of twenty-seven hundred and fifty + dollars each for the three!” Matt shot at him. + </p> + <p> + “Net? The three of them?” Cappy was all attention now; for selling + schooners in lots of three was decidedly new and interesting. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly! Five per cent to me. Remember I'm a ship, freight and marine + insurance broker, and I'm not working for my health. Why, I haven't even + suggested any other vessels to my clients—and, by the way, they are + not codfish people either. I knew you'd want to get rid of these little + hookers, so I'm giving you first crack at the bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “Who wants them?” Cappy demanded craftily. + </p> + <p> + “If I told you that you'd do me the way you did that Seattle broker who + tried to put through the charter of the Lion and the Unicorn. When you + knew who his clients were you were in position to defy him—and you + did!” + </p> + <p> + “No offense,” Cappy retorted innocently. “Don't be so touchy! Is this a + cash proposition, Matt?” + </p> + <p> + “In the hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I accept.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give me a written option,” Matt warned him. “No more word-of-mouth + business for me with you.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy laughed; and, calling in a stenographer, he dictated the option. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, Matt,” he said as he signed the option five minutes later and + handed it to Matt, “who shall we make out the bills of sale to?” + </p> + <p> + “To the Pacific Shipping Company. When you're ready telephone me and I'll + bring the check round.” + </p> + <p> + “Go get your check now,” Cappy ordered. “Skinner will have the bills of + sale ready by the time you return. And I do wish to heaven,” he added, + “that you had called round with this proposition four days ago. I've just + had those three schooners dry-docked, cleaned and painted.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is the very reason why I didn't call round until to-day, Mr. Ricks. + You can afford that dry-dock bill so much better than—er—the + Pacific Shipping Company.” + </p> + <p> + He left, laughing, and proceeded to the office of the Pacific Shipping + Company, where he procured a check for eighty-two hundred and fifty + dollars and returned to the Blue Star Navigation Company's office. Mr. + Skinner had in the meantime prepared proper bills of sale; a notary, with + offices in the building, had been called in to attest the signatures of + Cappy Ricks and Mr. Hankins, president and secretary respectively of the + Blue Star Navigation Company; and when Cappy Ricks handed over the bills + of sale to Matt Peasley, together with the Blue Star check for four + hundred and twelve dollars and fifty cents—Matt's commission—the + latter handed him the certified check of the Pacific Shipping Company. + </p> + <p> + “Who is the Pacific Shipping Company, Matt?” Cappy queried. “I never heard + of them before.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a new company, sir,” Matt replied; and, gathering up his bills of + sale and the check for his commission, he fled precipitately, leaving + Cappy Ricks to adjust his spectacles and examine the check. It was signed: + “Pacific Shipping Company, by Matthew Peasley, President.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time Cappy Ricks sat staring at that check. Finally he looked + up and saw Mr. Skinner gazing at him. He held out the check and tapped + Matt Peasley's signature. + </p> + <p> + “Get on to that, Skinner, my boy,” he said; “get on to that! Matt's gone + into the shipping business, and he's making an humble start with three + little old antiquated schooners, for which he has paid me more than eight + thousand dollars. Now he will go broke!” + </p> + <p> + “I do not agree with you, Mr. Ricks,” Mr. Skinner replied dryly, “for I + notice he didn't forget to stick us four hundred and twelve dollars and + fifty cents for the privilege of selling him those three schooners! This + is the first time I ever heard of anybody's paying the purchaser a + commission!” + </p> + <p> + “The infernal scoundrel!” Cappy shrilled angrily, for Mr. Skinner's + assertion carried the hint that Cappy had been outgeneraled. “The Yankee + thief!—acting as broker for a company in which he owns all the + capital stock! In business a week and he's made over four hundred dollars + already, neat and nice, and as clean as a hound's tooth! Can you beat it?” + </p> + <p> + “It's better than being a port captain for the Blue Star Navigation + Company at three hundred a month,” Mr. Skinner suggested wistfully. + </p> + <p> + He had worked for a salary all his days, and after passing the thirty mark + he had lost the courage to leap into the commercial fray and be his own + man. He wished he might have been endowed at birth with a modicum of Matt + Peasley's courage and reckless disregard of consequences. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII. WORKING CAPITAL + </h2> + <p> + It was nearly ten weeks before Cappy Ricks laid eyes on Matt Peasley + again. Inquiry from Florry elicited the information that Matt had gone to + Mexico as skipper of his own schooner, the Harpoon, bound on some + mysterious business. + </p> + <p> + “He's taken the old Harpoon down there to stick a Mexican—I'll bet a + hat on that!” Cappy reflected. “I'll bet he'll have a tale to tell when he + gets back.” + </p> + <p> + There came a day when Matt, looking healthy and happy, dropped in for a + social call. + </p> + <p> + “Well, young man,” Cappy greeted him, “give an account of yourself. How do + you find business?” + </p> + <p> + “The finest game in the world,” Matt replied heartily. “I had the Ethel + Ricks snaked out of the mud and hauled out on the marine railway, where I + bossed a gang of riggers and sailmakers for a week, getting her gear in + shape while she was having a gas engine and tanks for the distillate + installed. Then I gave her a dab of paint here and there, sweetened her + up, and sold her to Slade, of the Alaska Codfishing Corporation, at a net + profit of fifteen hundred dollars over her total cost to me. Nearly two + thousand for my first month in business. Not so bad, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “You'll do better after a while,” Cappy remarked dryly. “I hear you've + been to Mexico. How about it, boy?” + </p> + <p> + “I took the Harpoon down myself, and hired a skipper to take the Nukahiva. + Before doing so, however, I overhauled their gear and installed gas + engines in them also—only I'd learned something by this time. I + bought second-hand engines, rebuilt, but with a guaranty, and they cost me + a thousand dollars less than new engines. In conversation with Captain + Kirk, of the steamer San Blas, I had heard that a company in Guaymas was + thinking of buying a couple of little coasting schooners, putting gas + engines in them, and adding these crafts to their fleet running out of + Guaymas to Mazatlan, Topolobampo, and way ports. So I went down, put my + schooners under the Mexican flag, and started opposition. The + old-established company went to the local military commander and tried to + get him to commandeer my vessels for the use of the government, which pays + in depreciated shinplasters that may be worth something some day a hundred + years from now.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew-w-w!” Cappy whistled. “That was a narrow squeak, Matt. How did you + dodge it?” + </p> + <p> + “I had the local military commander on my payroll, with good American + gold, before I ever started anything. I knew he'd come to shake me down; + so I anticipated him and made a monthly donation to the cause of liberty. + I do not know for certain, but I imagine he went south with it himself, + though I do not begrudge the amount. I only paid him for one month anyhow. + By that time I had an offer to sell out; and I did, reluctantly, but for + real money and at a much better figure than if I had not made it an object + for them to buy. I got out with a net profit of seventy-four hundred and + fifty dollars on the two schooners. Not so bad, eh, Mr. Ricks? Over nine + thousand dollars in less than three months? Of course, I realize I could + not have made that much if I hadn't had the funds with which to + speculate.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy nodded. Words were beyond him for the time being. Finally he said: + </p> + <p> + “Matt, that was pure gambling, though you think it was a speculation. It + was mighty poor business, even if you did emerge with a fancy profit. You + might have been cleaned out.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and if the hare hadn't stopped to take a nap the tortoise would not + have won the race,” Matt replied. “So far as I can see, all business is a + gamble and every investment is a bet; hence, a good business man is a good + gambler.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks sighed. + </p> + <p> + “There is a special providence,” he said, “that looks after fools, drunken + men and sailors.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIX. EASY MONEY + </h2> + <p> + Captain Matt Peasley's first act after consummating his first successful + deal was to purchase for the Pacific Shipping Company a membership in the + Merchants' Exchange, on the floor of which he knew he would meet daily all + the shipping men of San Francisco, and thus be enabled to keep in touch + with trade conditions. + </p> + <p> + He had been a member less than a week when the wisdom of spending five + hundred dollars for his membership was made delightfully apparent. While + he stood watching the secretary chalk on the blackboard the record of the + latest arrivals and departures, he heard a man behind him speaking: + </p> + <p> + “Heyfuss, I'm in the market to charter another freighter for the Panama + run. You might look round and see whether you can line something up for + us. I'd like about a two-thousand-ton boat; and we could charter her for a + year.” + </p> + <p> + “There's only one vessel available,” the man addressed as Heyfuss + answered; “and that's the Tillicum. Cappy Ricks had her laid up in Oakland + Creek—” + </p> + <p> + Matt moved away and approached a clerk at the desk. + </p> + <p> + “That dark-haired man with the thick glasses, talking with Mr. Heyfuss,” + he said—“who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “That is Mr. Henry Kelton, manager of G. H. Morrow Company,” the clerk + answered. “They operate a line of sailing vessels foreign and half a dozen + steamers to South American ports.” + </p> + <p> + Matt thanked him, entered a telephone booth and on consulting the + telephone directory, discovered that J. O. Heyfuss was a broker. + </p> + <p> + “I'll have to step lively to beat Heyfuss to it,” he soliloquized, and + forthwith hastened down to the office of the Blue Star Navigation Company. + </p> + <p> + “Well, young man!” Cappy greeted him genially. “How about you?” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind me. How about the Tillicum?” + </p> + <p> + “Laid up in Oakland Inner Harbor waiting for better times.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I can give her some business. Would you charter her to the + Pacific Shipping Company?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Cappy replied, “I might be induced to take a chance in these hard + times. How much money have you in bank to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “In a pinch I could lay my hands on thirty thousand, cash.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Cappy thoughtfully, “that little roll, plus an established + credit and a reputation for business experience, might carry you far with + some people—but not with me. You're not a safe bet—yet; but we + can make it safe.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “You can pay the charter money in advance,” Cappy answered smilingly. + </p> + <p> + “I have decided not to do any more gambling, Mr. Ricks. Hereafter, as near + as such a thing may be humanly possible, I'm going to play a sure thing. + Therefore, all things being equal, if I can guarantee you your price for + the steamer, on a year's charter, you do not care what I do with the + vessel, provided that I do not injure her?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, in order to play safe and protect you, suppose I charter her + from you, contingent on my ability to recharter her to some responsible + shipping firm. Under those conditions would you exact the charter money in + advance? You know very well that when I collect my money from the + charterers you'll get yours right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Without question, Matt; but sometimes a fellow cannot collect his money + from the charterers, and then the owner has to wait. I'm taking no chances + to speak of on you, Matthew, my son; but for the sake of making it a + sporting proposition I'll talk business on the basis of fifty per cent. of + the charter money, payable monthly in advance.” + </p> + <p> + “That's cold-blooded, but I can stand it. What is the Tillicum going to + cost me a day?” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of charter do you want—government form or bare boat?” + </p> + <p> + “You might give me an option with a price based on each form. I haven't + the slightest idea what form my prospective victim prefers, though I + prefer a bare-boat charter. I will close with you on whatever basis he + prefers, if that is satisfactory.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll make many concessions to get that vessel out of the mud and to sea, + and paying a reasonable rate on the money invested in her. I hate to keep + a good skipper and a good chief engineer on the beach, and I want them to + begin drawing their salaries again.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy reached into his desk and produced a little loose-leaf memorandum + book, and from certain figures therein contained he commenced to figure + what he should charge Matt for the ship. On his part, Matt, whose + apprenticeship under the Blue Star had made him tolerably familiar with + every steamer in the fleet, got out a pad and pencil and commenced to + figure the cost of operation himself. Not knowing the cost of the steamer + or the ratio of profit Cappy might expect on the investment, however, he + was more or less at sea until Cappy had named his figures; whereupon Matt + pretended to do some more figuring. Finally he frowned and said: + </p> + <p> + “Fifty dollars a day too much.” + </p> + <p> + He did not know a thing about it, but he knew Cappy Ricks well enough to + know that Cappy would first decide on his minimum price and then add a + hundred dollars a day for good measure; hence, Yankeelike, Matt commenced + to chaffer, with the result that before he left the office Cappy had + abated his price fifty dollars a day and given Matt a forty-eight-hour + option on the vessel, agreeing to charter her to him at the figures + specified, contingent on Matt's ability to recharter her to a responsible + firm. + </p> + <p> + Cappy chuckled as Matt Peasley left the office. + </p> + <p> + “You're taking a pretty big bite, Matt,” he soliloquized; “so I'll + handicap you. And if anything goes wrong, and you fail to collect from + your people, I'll give you a lesson in high finance that you'll never + forget, young man! I'll bet my immortal soul you're going to try to do + business with Morrow & Company; and if that outfit isn't scheduled for + involuntary bankruptcy, then I'm a Chinaman. A charter for a year, eh? + They'll never last a year. They'll bust, owing you a month's charter + money, Matthew, and the vessel will be at sea, most likely, or in a South + American port, when that happens; and you can't throw her back on me until + you deliver her in her home port. And meantime your charter to me keeps + rambling right along, and I'll attach your bankroll if you're a day late + with your payment in advance. Yes, sir; I'll break you in two for the good + of your immortal soul. Matt—Matt, my son—something tells me + you're monkeying with fire and liable to get burned.” + </p> + <p> + From Cappy Ricks' office Matt Peasley called on Kelton of Morrow & + Company. Kelton, a shrewd, double-action sort of person and the smartest + shipping man on the street, looked with frank curiosity at Matt's modest + card. + </p> + <p> + “Pacific Shipping Company, eh? That's a new one on me, Captain Peasley,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “It's a new one on me also,” Matt replied humorously; “in fact, it is too + recent to be very well known. We've been operating a fleet of windjammers, + with auxiliary power, down on the Mexican Coast,” he added truthfully, + calm in the knowledge that two schooners constitute a fleet if one be not + inclined to split conversational hairs; “but we sold them and decided to + go into the steamship business. We hope to buy or build a line of + freighters to run to Atlantic Coast ports via the Panama Canal.” + </p> + <p> + “What steam vessels have you got now?” Kelton queried interestedly. + </p> + <p> + “Only one at present, Mr. Kelton. We've acquired the Tillicum, late of the + Blue Star fleet.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” replied Kelton. + </p> + <p> + He was all attention now; for, though Matt Peasley did not know it, less + than ten days previous Kelton had tried to charter the Tillicum direct + from Cappy Ricks, who, knowing something of the financial condition of + Morrow & Company, had declined to consider a charter unless under a + guaranty of payment other than that of Morrow & Company. Kelton was in + urgent need of a steamer to cope with the congestion of freight, and the + Tillicum suited the purpose of his company admirably; hence, the news that + he might still be able to acquire her filled him with sudden hope. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” he reiterated. “I had no idea Cappy Ricks contemplated selling + her, though it has been common talk on the street that he made a mistake + in building such a big boat as the Tillicum for the coastwise lumber + trade. She was too hard to find business for, and I dare say he was sick + of his bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I thought we'd take a chance on her,” Matt replied, not taking the + trouble to disabuse Kelton of the impression to which he had apparently + jumped—to wit, that the Pacific Shipping Company had purchased the + Tillicum. + </p> + <p> + “What do you intend doing with her?” Kelton continued. + </p> + <p> + “They tell me business is good on the Panama run, and it will be better + when the Canal is opened. However, until the Canal does open, we would + prefer to keep out of the Pacific Coast trade. Competition always means a + rate war, with consequent loss to both parties to the struggle; so we'd + rather charter the Tillicum for a year if we could. I heard you were in + the market for a boat.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we might use the Tillicum,” Kelton replied. “What are you asking + for her?” + </p> + <p> + Matt named a figure considerably in advance of what he expected to receive + and stipulated a bare-boat charter—that is to say, Kelton's company + should pay the entire cost of operating the vessel, and select her crew + and officers with the exception of the captain and chief engineer, it + being customary among many owners, when chartering a vessel, to stipulate + that their own captain, in whom they have confidence, shall command her. + Cappy Ricks always specified his own skipper and chief engineer. + </p> + <p> + When Matt named his figure Kelton promptly shouted “Thief!” but made the + mistake of shouting too loud—whereat Matt Peasley knew he was not + sincere and promptly decided to outgame him. At the end of half an hour of + argument and much futile figuring, which deceived nobody, Matt abated his + price twenty-five dollars a day and Kelton said he would think it over. + Matt knew the charter was as good as closed, and when he left Morrow & + Company's office he repaired straight to that of Cappy Ricks. + </p> + <p> + “I think I'll be able to recharter, Mr. Ricks,” he said confidently. “Have + you any objection to Morrow & Company as recharterers?” + </p> + <p> + Cappy started slightly, hesitated a fraction of a second, and replied that + he had no objection whatsoever. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir,” Matt replied. “Will you please have Mr. Skinner prepare + the charter parties right away, sign them, and send them over to my office + for my signature? I can't wait to sign them now. And about the captain—I + suppose you'll want to put in your own skipper, of course. Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Grant.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any objection to inserting a clause in the charter party + stipulating that, if for any reason Captain Grant proves objectionable to + the charterers, I may take command of the vessel myself? As charterer I + will have a very vital interest in the vessel and I might feel called on + to protect that interest personally.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” said Cappy earnestly, “I'll trust you in preference to most men + with any ship of mine. Still, Grant is a very able man.” + </p> + <p> + “He might be too slow for me, Mr. Ricks. I prefer to have a spare anchor + in case of necessity.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, have it your own way,” Cappy acquiesced, and summoned Mr. Skinner + to prepare the charter parties, while Matt went back to his own office and + gave instructions that he was not to be called to the telephone. + </p> + <p> + Something told him that Kelton would be ringing up before the day was over + to accept his price on the Tillicum, and he did not want to be placed in + the position of having to give a yes or no answer until he had seen Cappy + Ricks' charter parties, with Cappy's signature attached. He would then + close up his deal with Morrow & Company, after which he would sign + Cappy's charter parties and turn two copies over to Cappy. In this way he + would be enabled to play safe and save his face in case any hitch occurred + at the last minute. + </p> + <p> + The charter parties, duly signed and in triplicate, arrived from Cappy + Ricks in the morning's mail, with a request from Cappy for Matt to append + his signature to two copies and return them to the Blue Star Navigation + Company. Matt, after first assuring himself that the instrument was in + order, called up Kelton, who informed him that he would accept Matt's + offer for a year's charter of the Tillicum. Within half an hour Matt had + his charter parties ready for Kelton's signature and the deal was closed; + whereupon Matt signed the charter party Cappy Ricks had sent him and + handed it to Cappy, together with a check for nine thousand dollars—one + half the monthly rental of the Tillicum. + </p> + <p> + Cappy whistled softly through his teeth as he handed the documents to Mr. + Skinner and instructed him to put the Tillicum in commission at once. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XL. THE CATACLYSM + </h2> + <p> + For two voyages all went well. The Tillicum was engaged in carrying + general cargo to Panama for reshipment over the Panama Railroad to Colon, + at which point it was reshipped in steamers to ports along the Atlantic + seaboard. Following the universal custom, Matt's charter with Morrow & + Company stipulated settlement in full every thirty days, whereas his + charter with Cappy Ricks, for reasons best known to Cappy, stipulated + payment in full every fifteen days; which arrangement operated to keep + nine thousand dollars of Matt's money in Cappy's hands continuously. This + fact graveled Matt whenever he reflected that money was worth at least + seven per cent.; but, since he was making sixty dollars a day profit as + the result of his deal, he concluded not to mention this point to Cappy + Ricks. + </p> + <p> + Morrow & Company met the first monthly payment with cash on the nail. + At the second settlement, however, when Matt called for his check, Kelton + requested, as a special favor, that Matt allow him four days' time. A + clever talker, with a peculiarly winning way about him, he disarmed + suspicion very readily, and Matt assured him he would be very glad indeed + to extend him such a slight courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, however, Cappy Ricks had to be reckoned with; so, in order not + to keep him waiting, Matt sent him another check for nine thousand + dollars. Cappy now had eighteen thousand dollars of Matt's money; and on + the fourth day, when the latter called on Kelton for his check, the latter + actually made him feel ashamed of himself for calling and sent him away + with one-half of the sum now overdue! This perturbed Matt somewhat, but + when he showed some slight indication of it Kelton playfully picked up a + glass paper weight and threatened to destroy him if he did not get out of + the office at once; so, because it is difficult to be serious with a man + who declines to take one seriously, Matt forced a grin and departed, with + the light intimation that he would return in three days, and if the check + was not forthcoming then he would fresco Kelton's office with the latter's + life-blood. + </p> + <p> + “Get out!” shouted Kelton laughingly. “I know money is tight and I don't + blame you for being Fido-at-the-rat-hole; but if you bother me about that + check for a week I'll not speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + So Matt waited a week, and then the check reached him by mail, with a + courteous note from Kelton thanking him for his leniency. It seemed to + Matt he had scarcely acknowledged the receipt of that check before he had + to give Cappy Ricks another nine thousand dollars! + </p> + <p> + Morrow & Company were late again on the third month, but this time + they did not wait to be dunned. On the day before the payment was due + Kelton took Matt Peasley to luncheon and in the course of the meal he + informed Matt, quite casually, that he would be a little late with his + check. With two dollars' worth of his genial host's food under his belt, + Matt felt that it would be rude, to say the least, if he insisted on + settlement; so he said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't worry about that, old man! Give it to me as soon as you can, + because I'm a little pinched myself.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, Matt was beginning to worry, for his acquaintance throughout + the trade had extended rapidly, due to his propensity for making friends, + and he had heard one or two little rumors that Morrow & Company had + bitten off more than they could chew in a few big deals of late and had + been badly pinched; in fact, to such an extent did Matt ponder on the + possibility of the company's going into the hands of the receiver, leaving + his thirty thousand dollars to disappear into the ravening maw of the Blue + Star Navigation Company, that he forgot to send Cappy his check for nine + thousand dollars the day it was due. And the next morning Cappy himself + called up and, in a voice that seemed to come straight from a cold-storage + plant, asked him what he meant by it, and requested him—though to + Matt it sounded like a peremptory demand—to send the check over at + once. So angry and humiliated did Matt feel as a result of this dun, he + could not trust himself to call with the check but sent it by special + delivery. + </p> + <p> + The Tillicum had returned from her second voyage to Panama and was about + to commence loading her third cargo when another payment fell due. To + Matt's chagrin Kelton again pleaded for delay; and again Matt settled with + Cappy Ricks prior to collecting from Morrow & Company. Kelton had + promised a check on the following Wednesday, and on the appointed day Matt + called, only to be met with a request for further delay. Kelton explained + that Mr. Morrow had been taken very ill and things were at sixes and + sevens in the office as a result. Could not Matt wait until Saturday, when + Mr. Morrow would be back to sign a check? + </p> + <p> + “What's wrong with Morrow?” Matt demanded pointedly. “Has he got paralysis + of the right hand?” + </p> + <p> + “Worse than that,” Kelton answered seriously. “He's on the verge of + nervous prostration.” + </p> + <p> + “But can't you sign a check?” + </p> + <p> + “Y-e-s; but Mr. Morrow generally attends to all financial details.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll excuse him from attending to this detail,” Matt replied. “I + want a check and I want it now, because it is a week overdue; the vessel + is nearly loaded and about to go to sea, and if I do not get my money—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, suppose I give you half of it now and the other half in a day or + two?” Kelton suggested. + </p> + <p> + He looked worried and unhappy, and Matt felt sorry for him; for, indeed, + Kelton was a likable chap and perfectly trustworthy, and Matt sensed some + of the worry that was falling on the manager in his desperate efforts to + run a business on short capital. However, Matt's own financial shoestring + was too short for him to afford any sentiment, though, for the reason that + he was naturally kind-hearted and considerate, he consented to accept a + check for half the amount due and left Kelton to the society of the many + devils which seemed to be tormenting him. + </p> + <p> + On the sidewalk he paused suddenly. So Morrow was on the verge of nervous + prostration, eh? That was bad. It had been Matt's experience that, as a + usual thing, but two things conduce to bring about nervous prostration—overwork + and worry; and in Morrow's case it must be worry, for Kelton did all the + work! Kelton, too, looked haggard and drawn. + </p> + <p> + “I must be very careful,” Matt told himself, “for if that concern should + go broke while the Tillicum is en route to Panama my charter to Morrow + & Company may be considered to have terminated automatically; and if + they go under owing me from ten to twenty thousand dollars, I'm still + responsible to Cappy Ricks for my charter of the Tillicum until I can + bring her back to her home port and turn her back to him. Thank God for + that clause in the charter which gives me the privilege of terminating my + charter with Cappy in case Morrow & Company terminate their charter + with me! It will be all right if they terminate it while the vessel is in + San Francisco; but if she's very far from home I'll most certainly be + eaten alive while I'm getting her back to Cappy!” + </p> + <p> + He returned to his office and went into a long executive session with + himself, from which he aroused presently and went down to the dock where + the cargo was pouring into the hold of the Tillicum. Here he consulted + with the captain and the purser, and obtained a list of all persons, firms + or corporations which had furnished supplies of any kind to the deck + department of the steamer. From the chief engineer he procured a similar + list of those who had furnished supplies to the engine department; and, + armed with this information, he returned to his office and dictated the + following form letter: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Gentlemen:—Please take notice that we as charterers of the + steamer Tillicum from the Blue Star Navigation Company, and as + recharterers to Messrs. G. H. Morrow & Company, will not be + responsible for the payment to you of any bills for supplies or + stores, of any nature whatsoever, furnished to the said steamer + Tillicum since she has been under charter to said G. H. Morrow + & Company. Any bills contracted with you by G. H. Morrow & + Company for account of the Tillicum must be paid to you by + G. H. Morrow & Company. This notice is hereby given you in order + that we may go on record as disclaiming any responsibility as + charterers prior to the departure of the said steamer Tillicum + on her next voyage. + + Yours very truly, + PACIFIC SHIPPING COMPANY, + By Matthew Peasley, President. +</pre> + <p> + A copy of this letter Matt sent by registered mail, with a request for a + return registry receipt, to each of the creditors of the Tillicum of whom + he could get track. He had all the receipts in hand by the last mail + delivery the next day, and at eight o'clock that night the Tillicum, + having cleared the customs the same afternoon, departed for Panama. Two + days later Matt again called on Morrow & Company for the money due him + and, after much argument, succeeded in getting it. He hastened at once to + the bank on which it was drawn and asked the paying teller to certify it. + This the latter declined to do—neither would he cash the check; so + Matt took it back to Kelton. + </p> + <p> + “Kelton,” he said, “the bank will not honor your check.” + </p> + <p> + Kelton looked desperate. + </p> + <p> + “Confound you!” he growled. “I stalled you until five minutes before the + bank closed, thinking you would deposit it in your own bank to-morrow + morning and I'd have a deposit to cover it by that time. It will be all + right first thing in the morning, Peasley.” + </p> + <p> + “It had better be!” Matt told him bluntly. “Your charter provides for + cancellation in the event that payments are not made as stipulated, and + I'm not in a position to carry you or to take any chances on you—and + I'm not going to.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't blame you a bit,” Kelton answered regretfully. “I tell you, with + the money market as tight as it is, we're beating the devil round the + stump these days. Confound it, Peasley, a man has to do some scheming and + stalling when everybody is crowding him for money, doesn't he?” + </p> + <p> + The check was not paid when Matt presented it the next morning. As he came + out of the bank a newsboy, crying his daily sensation, accosted him with + the first afternoon edition, and Matt's glance caught a smear of red ink + seven columns wide across the front page: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SHIPPING MAN A SUICIDE! +</pre> + <p> + It was Morrow! + </p> + <p> + For about a minute Matt Peasley stood on the corner, doing some of the + fastest thinking he had ever done. Morrow had taken a short cut out of his + financial worries, and Matt realized that the tragedy would undoubtedly + bring an avalanche of creditors down on the unhappy Kelton and ruin the + firm. At any rate, the concern would doubtless go into the hands of a + receiver, and Matt Peasley might or might not hope for his in the sweet by + and by, according to the amount of salvage reported. The Tillicum was + seventy-six hours at sea! + </p> + <p> + “Matthew,” Matt Peasley murmured to himself, “'theirs not to reason why, + theirs but to do and die'—and all in one thundering big hurry!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLI. WHEN PAIN AND ANGUISH WRING THE BROW + </h2> + <p> + Cappy Ricks was having his siesta, with his feet on top of his desk, when + Matt Peasley came bounding in, seized him by the shoulder and shook him + wideawake. + </p> + <p> + “Well, young man,” Cappy snapped querulously, “what's all the excitement + about?” + </p> + <p> + “Morrow has committed suicide, and I know the firm is in financial + difficulties. I'll not be able to collect now—I'll have to wait with + the rest of the creditors; and meantime the Tillicum, fully loaded, is + somewhere down off the Mexican coast. Good gracious, Mr. Ricks, there's + the very devil to pay!” + </p> + <p> + “We will, if you please, not include outsiders in this argument for the + present, Matt,” Cappy retorted dryly. “The unfortunate devil does not pay! + You do, Matt. I should worry!” + </p> + <p> + “But you can help me save something from the wreck!” Matt pleaded + desperately. “It's going to clean me of my last dollar to make good with + you on my charter, even if Morrow & Company do not make good with me + on theirs; and—” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” he said with maddening calm, “listen to me! I had a hunch + this would happen. As a matter of fact, I declined to charter to Morrow + & Company direct ten days before you came prancing in with your head + all swelled up with a brand-new idea for making a lot of easy money in a + hurry. Me charter to them—me!” In his superb scorn Cappy waxed + ungrammatical. “I should kiss a pig! Why, if sawmills were selling for six + bits each I wouldn't trust that concern with a hatful of sawdust—not + that they weren't honest and capable, but they haven't got any money to + speak of any more!” + </p> + <p> + “But—but—Why, dad burn it, sir, you said it was perfectly + agreeable to you to have me charter the Tillicum to them!” Matt roared, + angry, hurt and amazed. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I worry what you do? I have all I can do to attend to my own + business. Why should I tell you yours?” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “No ifs or buts, Matt. I played safe; but you're caught away off third + base and now you're out! You've got to settle with me for every day you + have that vessel under charter until you deliver her back here in San + Francisco Bay and formally surrender her to me. You've got to pay me—and + what's more, I'm going to see to it that you do! Business is business, my + boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll pay you all the cash I can and give you my note for the + remainder.” + </p> + <p> + “Your note!” Cappy jeered. “Your note! What do I want with your note! Is + it hockable at any bank? Huh! Answer me that.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't insult me!” Matt growled wrathfully. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” Cappy sneered. “You think you're mighty smart, don't you, Matt? Do + you remember what I told you when you declined to go to work for me and + insisted on going into business for yourself? I told you you'd go bust—and + you're going right now. All you'll have left in thirty days will be the + clothes you stand in and the corporation seal of the Pacific Shipping + Company. Ho-ho! Isn't that funny? The idea of a man's paying thirty + thousand dollars for a dinky old corporation seal worth two and a half!” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley's face went white with suppressed fury. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said quietly. “I seem to remember some such prophecy; also, some + conversation to the effect that I'd be a better business man if I + purchased my business experience with my own money. You said there were + wolves along California Street that would take my roll away from me so + fast it'd surprise me. I must confess, however, that I had no idea you + would lead the pack! However, I didn't come here to argue, Mr. Ricks—” + </p> + <p> + “What did you come for? Sympathy?” Cappy queried. “Because, if you did, + you've come to the wrong shop, my boy. Business is business, Matt; I never + mix sentiment with it and I advise you never to do it either. Pay your way + and take your beating like a sport—that's my policy, Matt.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to save the Blue Star Navigation Company some money?” Matt + managed to articulate. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly! Now you're talking business; so I'll listen.” + </p> + <p> + “As charterer of your steamer Tillicum, I find that Captain Grant, the + master you installed there, is offensive to me. I object to the way he + parts his hair and knots his necktie, and I want a new skipper on the + ship.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his swivel chair, placed a hand on + each knee and eyed Matt suspiciously over the rims of his spectacles. + After a long silence he shook his head negatively. + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll sue you!” Matt replied. “There's a clause in the charter party. + You've got to do it.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy's mouth flew open. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by Judas Priest, that's right,” he said, and laughed. “So you're + providing a job for yourself after the smoke clears away, eh?” he quizzed. + “Well, you can skipper the Tillicum while you keep up the payments of the + charter money, Matt; but I give you my word that the day you slip up on a + payment, out you go and back Captain Grant goes into the ship. Meantime, + however, I think I see now why you inserted that clause. In the event of + just such a contingency as the present you wanted the privilege of jumping + in and taking command yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Matt nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Grant is a good man, but old. He can't drive a crew like I can, + Mr. Ricks—and, with me on the job, that steamer will be discharged + and back in San Francisco Bay from three to five days sooner that she + would ordinarily. It means six hundred dollars a day to me, sir, and every + day saved is worth that much cash in hand to you, since you profess to + think so lightly of my promissory note.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” Cappy commanded. “I'll admit that the thought does you credit. + It was a mighty bright idea, Matt, and showed fine forethought. Now, then, + what are you going to do to save your roll?” + </p> + <p> + “The City of Para leaves for Panama to-morrow. Give me a letter to Captain + Grant, commanding him to turn his ship over to me on presentation of this + letter. I will furnish him the funds to pay his transportation back to San + Francisco.” + </p> + <p> + “Fair enough,” said Cappy; and, calling in a stenographer, he dictated the + desired letter. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later Matt Peasley had left the office without the formality + of saying good-by to Cappy Ricks, and was in a taxicab en route to his + lodgings to pack his steamer trunk and hand baggage. Cappy Ricks chuckled + as Matt went angrily out. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—that first time a man goes broke!” he soliloquized. “What a blow + to one's pride! What a shock to the nervous system!” He sighed. “Poor old + Matt! Nobody knows better than Cappy Ricks how you feel, because he's been + there twice and it blamed near broke his heart each time it happened.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head with an air of satisfaction, for things were going well + with him. He had made a prophecy and it was in a fair way of being + fulfilled—nay, its fulfillment was inevitable; whereat Cappy, after + the habit of the aged in their conflict with Youth, felt very much like + shaking hands with himself. Indeed, so pleased was he that presently he + called in Mr. Skinner and related the story in meticulous detail to the + general manager. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner was delighted. More—he was overcome. He sat down and + permitted himself the most soul-satisfying laugh he had had in years. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLII. UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Skinner thrust his head into Cappy Ricks' office and said: + </p> + <p> + “I've just had a telephone message from the Merchants' Exchange. The + Tillicum is passing in.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Cappy Ricks, “in about two hours at the latest we may expect + a mournful visit from Captain Matt Peasley.” + </p> + <p> + “If you don't mind, Mr. Ricks,” said Skinner with a smirk, “I should + dearly love to be present at the interview.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy smiled brightly. + </p> + <p> + “By all means, Skinner, my dear boy; by all means, since you wish it. It + just about breaks my heart to think of the cargo of grief I'm going to + slip that boy; but I have resolved to be firm, Skinner. He owes us + eighteen thousand dollars and he must go through with his contract to the + very letter, and pay the Blue Star Navigation Company every last cent due + it. He will, doubtless, suggest some sort of settlement—ten cents on + the dollar—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't agree to it,” Mr. Skinner pleaded. “He has more than a thousand + dollars a month going to his credit on our books from the Unicorn charter, + and if that vessel stays afloat a year longer we'll be in the clear. Be + very firm with him, Mr. Ricks. As you say, it is all for his own benefit + and the experience will do him a whole lot of good.” + </p> + <p> + “I love the boy,” said Cappy; “but in the present case, Skinner, I haven't + any heart. A chunk of anthracite coal is softer than that particular organ + this morning. Be sure to show Matt in the minute he comes up from the + dock.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner needed no urging when, less than two hours later, Captain Matt + Peasley arrived. Mr. Skinner greeted him courteously and followed him into + Cappy's office. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, well!” Cappy began unctuously. “How do you do, Matt, my dear + boy? Glad to see you; in fact, we're extra glad to see you,” he added + significantly and winked at Mr. Skinner, who caught the hint and murmured + loud enough for Matt Peasley to hear: + </p> + <p> + “Eighteen thousand dollars to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + Cappy extended a hand, which Matt grasped heartily. + </p> + <p> + “You're looking fit as a fiddle,” Cappy continued. “Doesn't look a bit + worried—does he, Skinner?” + </p> + <p> + “I must admit he appears to carry it off very well, Mr. Ricks. We had + thought, captain,” Skinner continued, turning to Matt Peasley, “that, when + Mr. Ricks agreed to permit you to assume command of the Tillicum when she + reached Panama, we might have been treated to an exhibition of speed; but + the fact of the matter is that instead of economizing on time you are + about ten days in excess of the period it would have taken for Captain + Grant to have discharged his cargo and gotten back to San Francisco.” He + winked at Cappy Ricks, who returned the wink. + </p> + <p> + “You mean in ballast,” Matt suggested. Skinner nodded. “Oh, well, that + accounts for it,” Matt continued serenely. “I came home with a cargo of + steel rails.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks slid out to the extreme edge of his swivel chair; and, with a + hand on each knee, he gazed at Matt Peasley over the rims of his + spectacles. Mr. Skinner started violently. + </p> + <p> + “You came home with a cargo of steel rails?” Cappy demanded incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly! Do you suppose I would go to the expense of hiring somebody + else to skipper the Tillicum while I was there with my license? Not by a + jugful! I was saving every dollar I could. I had to.” + </p> + <p> + “Er—er—Where is Captain Grant?” Skinner demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Grant is free, white and twenty-one. He goes where he pleases + without consulting me, Mr. Skinner. He means nothing in my life—so + why should I know where he is?” + </p> + <p> + “You infernal scoundrel!” shrilled Cappy Ricks. “You whaled hell out of + him and threw him out on the dock at Panama—that's what you did to + him! You took the Tillicum away from him by force.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Grant is a fine, elderly gentleman, sir,” Matt interrupted. “I + would not use force on him. He left the ship of his own free will at San + Diego, California.” + </p> + <p> + “At San Diego?” Cappy and Skinner cried in unison. + </p> + <p> + “At San Diego.” + </p> + <p> + “But you said you were going to Panama on the City of Para, the regular + passenger liner,” Cappy challenged. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wasn't committed to that course, sir. After leaving your office I + changed my mind. I figured the Tillicum was somewhere off the coast of + Lower California; so I wirelessed Captain Grant, explained to him that the + ship was back on my hands by reason of the failure of Morrow & + Company, and ordered him to put into San Diego for further orders. He + proceeded there; I proceeded there; we met; I presented your letter + relieving him of his command. Simple enough, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “But what became of him?” + </p> + <p> + “How should I know, sir? I've been as busy as a bird dog down in Panama. + Please let me get on with my story. I had just cleared Point Loma and was + about to surrender the bridge to my first mate when an interesting little + message came trickling out of the ether—and my wireless boy picked + it up, because it was addressed to 'Captain Grant, Master S. S. + Tillicum.'” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks quivered and licked his lower lip, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “That message,” Matt continued, “was brought to me by the operator, who + really didn't know what to do with it. Captain Grant had left the ship and + Sparks didn't know what hotel in San Diego the late master of the Tillicum + would put up for the night; so I read the message to see whether it was + important, for I felt that it had to do with the ship's business and that + I was justified in reading it.” + </p> + <p> + Again Cappy Ricks squirmed. Mr. Skinner commenced to gnaw his thumb nail. + </p> + <p> + “That message broke me all up,” Matt continued sadly. “It destroyed + completely my faith in human nature and demonstrated beyond a doubt that + there is no such thing in this world as fair play in business. It's like a + waterfront fight. You just get your man down and everything goes—kicking, + biting, gouging, knee-work!” Matt sighed dolorously and drew from his vest + pocket a scrap of paper. “Just listen to this for a message!” He + continued. “Just imagine how nice you'd feel, Mr. Ricks, if you were + skippering a boat and picked up a message like this at sea: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Grant, Master Steamer Tillicum: Gave Captain Matt Peasley a + letter to you yesterday ordering you to turn over command of + Tillicum to him on presentation or demand. This on his request + and on his insistence, as per clause in charter party, copy of + which you have. Peasley leaves to-day for Panama on City of + Para. This will be your authority for declining to surrender + the ship to him when he comes aboard there. Stand pat! Letter + with complete instructions for your guidance follows on City of + Para. + + “Ricks.'” + </pre> + <p> + Cappy Ricks commenced tapping one foot nervously against the other, Mr. + Skinner coughed perfunctorily, while Matt withered each with a rather + sorrowful glance. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you can imagine the shock this gave me. I give you my word that + for as much as five seconds I didn't know what to do; but after that I got + real busy. I swung the ship and came ramping back to San Diego harbor, + slipped ashore in the small boat and found Captain Grant at the railroad + station buying a ticket for San Francisco. I had to wait and watch the + ticket office for an hour before he showed up, and when he did I made him + a proposition. I told him that if he would agree to keep away from the + office of the Blue Star Navigation Company you might think he was peeved + at being relieved of his command so peremptorily, and hence would not + attach any importance to his failure to report at the office. + </p> + <p> + “In consideration of this I gave him my word of honor that he would be + restored to his command as soon as I could bring the Tillicum back from + Panama, and meantime his salary would continue just the same—in + proof of which I gave him a check for two months' pay in advance. He said + he thought it all a very queer proceeding; but, since he was no longer in + command of the Tillicum, it wasn't up to him to ask questions, and he + agreed to my proposition. However, he said he thought he ought to wire the + company acknowledging receipt of their instructions with reference to + surrendering his command—and I agreed with him that he should. + 'But,' I said, 'why bother sending such a message, collect, ashore, when + we pay a flat monthly rate to the wireless company for the plant and + operator aboard the ship, no matter how many messages we send? Give me + your message to Mr. Ricks and when I get back aboard the Tillicum I'll + wireless it to him for you, and it won't cost the ship a cent extra.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know your own captains, Mr. Ricks. They'll save their ships a + dollar wherever they can; and simple, honest Old Man Grant agreed to my + suggestion. Before he had an opportunity to consider I stepped to the + telegraph office and wrote this message for him.” Matt produced another + telegram and read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Blue Star Navigation Company, + + “'258 California Street, San Francisco. + + “'Instructions with reference to change of masters received. + + “Would feel badly if I thought any act of mine necessitated + change; but since my conscience is clear I shall not worry. I + always have done and always shall do my duty to my owners + without thought of my personal interests, and you may rely + fully on that in the present emergency.'” + </pre> + <p> + “Well, sir, that sounded so infernally grandiloquent to Old Man Grant that + his hand actually trembled with emotion as he signed it—at my + suggestion. You know I'd hate to be tried for forgery. Then I shook hands + with him and started for Panama once more—only this time I kept + right on going; and I didn't spare the fuel oil either. Why should I? It + wasn't costing me anything.” + </p> + <p> + Both Cappy and Mr. Skinner winced, as from a blow. Matt waited for them to + say something, but they didn't; so after a respectful interval he resumed: + </p> + <p> + “Off the Coronado Islands I sent you Captain Grant's diplomatic message. I + was very glad to send it to you, Mr. Ricks, because I knew its receipt + would make you very happy, and I like to scatter happiness wherever I can. + The Scriptures say we should return good for evil.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks bounded to his feet and shook a skinny fist under Matt + Peasley's nose. + </p> + <p> + “You're a damned scoundrel!” he piped, beside himself with rage. “Be + careful how you talk to me, young man, or I'll lose my temper; and if I + ever do—” + </p> + <p> + “That would be terrible, wouldn't it?” Matt laughed. “I suppose you'd just + haul off and biff me one, and I'd think it was autumn with the leaves + falling!” + </p> + <p> + Cappy choked, turned purple, sat down again, and glanced covertly at Mr. + Skinner, who returned the glance with one that seemed to shout aloud: “Mr. + Ricks, I smell a rat as big as a Shetland pony. Something has slipped and + we're covered with blood. Incredible as it may seem, this rowdy Peasley + has outthought us!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you get the letter we sent Captain Grant at Panama?” Skinner managed + to articulate presently. + </p> + <p> + Matt nodded affirmatively. + </p> + <p> + “Opened it, I suppose!” Cappy accused him. + </p> + <p> + Matt nodded negatively, produced the letter from his pocket and handed it + to Cappy. + </p> + <p> + “Where I was raised,” he said gently, “they taught boys that it was wrong + to read other people's private correspondence. You will note that the seal + is unbroken.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God for that!” Cappy Ricks murmured, sotto voice, and tore the + letter into tiny bits. “Now, then,” he said, “we'll hear the rest of your + story.” + </p> + <p> + “When did a doctor look you over last?” Matt queried. “I'm afraid you'll + die of heart disease before I finish.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sound in wind and limb,” Cappy declared. “I'm not so young as I used + to be; but, by Jupiter, there isn't any young pup on the street who can + tell me where to head in! What next?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, Mr. Ricks, very shortly after I had rechartered the Tillicum + to Morrow & Company I began to suspect they were shy of sufficient + capital to run their big business comfortably. I found it very hard to + collect; so, fully a month before they went up the spout, I commenced to + figure on what would happen to me if they did. Consequently, I wasn't + caught napping. On the day Morrow committed suicide the company gave me a + check that was repudiated at the bank. I protested it and immediately + served formal notice on Morrow & Company that their failure to meet + the terms of our charter party necessitated immediate cancellation; and + accordingly I was cancelling it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you send that notice by registered mail?” Skinner demanded. + </p> + <p> + “You bet!—with a return registry receipt requested.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy nodded at Skinner approvingly, as though to say: “Smart of him, eh?” + Matt continued: + </p> + <p> + “After sending my wireless to Captain Grant aboard the Tillicum I sent a + cablegram to the Panama Railroad people informing them that, owing to + certain circumstances over which I had no control, the steamer Tillicum, + fully loaded and en route to Panama to discharge cargo, had been turned + back on my hands by the charterers. I informed them I had diverted the + steamer to San Diego for orders, and in the interim, unless the Panama + Railroad guaranteed me by cable immediately sixty per cent. of the + through-freight rate for the Tillicum, and a return cargo to San + Francisco, I would decline to send the Tillicum to Panama, but would, on + the contrary, divert her to Tehuantepec and transship her cargo over the + American-Hawaiian road there. I figured—” + </p> + <p> + “You infernal scoundrel!” Cappy Ricks murmured. “You—slippery—devil!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Matt went on calmly, “I had no means of knowing what freight + rate Morrow & Company received; but I figured that they ought to get + about forty per cent., the Panama Railroad about twenty per cent., and the + steamer on the Atlantic side the remaining forty. So I decided to play + safe and ask sixty per cent. of the through rate, figuring that the Panama + Railroad would give it to me rather than have the Tillicum's cargo + diverted over their competitor's road at Tehuantepec. In the first place + they were depending on business from Morrow & Company's ships; and, + with Morrow & Company gone broke and a new company liable to take over + their line, it would be a bad precedent to establish, to permit one cargo + to go to the competitor. Future cargoes might follow it! + </p> + <p> + “Then, too, the schedule of the ships on the Atlantic side of the Canal + doubtless had been made up already, with a view to handling this cargo + ex-Tillicum, and to lose the cargo would throw that schedule out of joint; + in fact, from whatever angle I viewed the situation, I could see that the + railroad company would prefer to give up its twenty per cent. rather than + decline my terms. They might think their competitor had already made me an + offer! Of course, it was all a mighty bluff on my part, but bluffs are not + always called, particularly when they're made good and strong; and, + believe me, my bluff was anything but weak in the knees. I told the Panama + people to wire their reply to me at San Diego, and when I got to that + city, twenty-four hours later, their answer was awaiting me.” + </p> + <p> + “They called your bluff?” Mr. Skinner challenged. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh-pooh for you!” Matt laughed. “God is good and the devil not half + bad. I got the guaranties I asked for, old dear! Don't you ever think I'd + have been crazy enough to go to Panama without them.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy jerked forward in his chair again. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he said sternly, “you have defaulted in your payments to the Blue + Star Navigation Company to the tune of eighteen thousand dollars, and I'd + like to hear what you have to say about that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I couldn't help it,” Matt replied, “I was shy ten thousand dollars + when Morrow & Company defaulted on me, and I was at sea when the other + payment fell due. However, you had your recourse. You could have canceled + the charter on me. That was a chance I had to take. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you grab the ship away from me? If you had done that you would + be in the clear to-day instead of up to your neck in grief.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll grab her away from you to-day—never fear!” Cappy promised + him. “I guess we'll get ours from the freight due on that cargo of steel + rails you came home with.” + </p> + <p> + “You have another guess coming, Mr. Ricks. You'll not do any grabbing + to-day, for the reason that somebody else has already grabbed her.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” chorused Cappy and Skinner. + </p> + <p> + “The United States Marshal. Half an hour ago the Pacific Shipping Company + libeled her.” + </p> + <p> + “What for, you bonehead? You haven't any cause for libel, so how can you + make it stick?” + </p> + <p> + “The Pacific Shipping Company has cause, and it can make the libel stick. + The first mate of the Tillicum assigned to the Pacific Shipping Company + his claim for wages as mate—” + </p> + <p> + “Matt, you poor goose! The Pacific Shipping Company OWE him his wages. + Your dink of a company chartered the boat, and we will not pay such a + ridiculous claim.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not care whether you do or not. That libel will keep you from + canceling my charter, although when you failed to cancel when I failed to + make the payments as stipulated, your laxity must be regarded in the eyes + of the law as evidence that you voluntarily waived that clause in the + charter; and after you have voluntarily waived a thing twice you'll have a + job making it stick the third time.” + </p> + <p> + “If I had only known!” groaned Skinner miserably. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” Matt continued brightly, “I have a cargo in that vessel, and + she's under charter to my company at six hundred dollars a day. Of course + you know very well, Mr. Ricks, that while the United States Marshal + remains in charge of her I cannot discharge an ounce of that cargo or move + the ship, or—er—anything. Well, naturally that will be no + fault of the Pacific Shipping Company, Mr. Ricks. It will be up to the + Blue Star Navigation Company to file a bond and lift that libel in order + that I may have some use of the ship I have chartered from you. If you do + not pull the plaster off of her of course I'll have to sue you for heavy + damages; and I can refuse to pay you any moneys due you.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll lift the libel in an hour,” Mr. Skinner declared dramatically; and + he took down the telephone to call up the attorney for the Blue Star. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” said Matt. “I'm not through. Before I entered the harbor I called + all hands up on the boat deck and explained matters to them. They had been + engaged by Morrow & Company, and the firm of Morrow & Company was + in the bankruptcy court; so the prospects of cash from that quarter did + not seem encouraging. The Pacific Shipping Company had made a bare-boat + charter from the Blue Star Navigation Company, and had then made a similar + charter to Morrow & Company; consequently the Pacific Shipping Company + would repudiate payment, and, as president and principal stockholder of + that company, I took it on myself to repudiate any responsibility then and + there. + </p> + <p> + “Then the crew wanted to know what they should do, and I said: 'Why, seek + the protection of the law, in such cases made and provided. A seaman is + not presumed to have any knowledge of the intricate deals his owners may + put through. All he knows is that he is employed aboard a ship, and if he + doesn't get his money from the charterers at the completion of the voyage + he can libel the ship and collect from the owners. This is a fine new + steamer, men, and I, for one, believe she is good for what is owing you + all; and if you will assign your claims to the Pacific Shipping Company I + will pay them in full and trust to the Blue Star Navigation Company to + reimburse me.' So they did that. + </p> + <p> + “Now go ahead, Mr. Skinner, and lift the libel I put on the vessel for my + first mate's account, and the instant you get it lifted I'll slap another + libel on her for account of the second mate. Get rid of the second mate's + claim and up bobs the steward, and so on, ad libitum, e pluribus unum, now + and forever, one and inseparable. I care not what course others may + pursue, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner quietly hung up the telephone receiver. + </p> + <p> + “And, by the way,” Matt continued, “I forgot to mention that I requested + the steward to stay aboard and make the United States Marshal comfortable + as soon as he arrived. In these little matters one might as well be + courteous, and I should hate to have the Tillicum acquire a reputation for + being cheap and inhospitable.” + </p> + <p> + “You dirty dog!” cried Cappy Ricks hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Really, my dear Peasley, this matter has passed beyond the joke stage,” + Mr. Skinner began suavely. + </p> + <p> + “Let me get along with my story,” said he. “The worst is yet to come. My + attorney informs me—” + </p> + <p> + “Matt Peasley,” said Cappy Ricks, “that's the first lie I ever knew you to + tell. You don't have to hire an attorney to tell you where to head in, you + infernal sea lawyer!” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for the compliment,” Matt observed quizzically. “Perhaps I + deserve it. However, 'we come to bury Caesar, not to praise him;' so, if + you will kindly hold over your head, Mr. Ricks, I'll be pleased to hit it + another swat.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll admit that the failure of Morrow & Company and the Pacific + Shipping Company to pay the crew of the Tillicum puts the buck up to me, + and I dare say I'll have to pay,” Cappy admitted, his voice trembling with + rage. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that isn't the only bill you'll have to pay. Don't cheer until + you're out of the woods, Mr. Ricks. You'll have to pay for a couple of + thousand barrels of fuel oil, and a lot of engine supplies, and sea + stores, and laundry, and water—why, Lord bless you, Mr. Ricks, I + can't begin to think of all the things you're stuck for!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it!” Cappy cried triumphantly. “It was an open-boat charter, + my son, and you rechartered on the same basis; and, though Morrow & + Company were originally responsible you'll find that the creditors, + despairing of collecting from them, will come down on the Pacific Shipping + Company like a pack of ravening wolves, by thunder! Don't YOU cheer until + YOU'RE out of the woods!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have a license to cheer,” Matt replied, “because I got out of the + woods a long time ago. Before the vessel sailed from this port, I sent + this letter to all her creditors!” And Matt thrust into Cappy Ricks' hand + a copy of the letter in question. + </p> + <p> + “That will not help you at all,” Mr. Skinner, who had read the letter over + Cappy's shoulder, declared. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't—if I hadn't sent it by registered mail and got a return + receipt,” Matt admitted; “but, since I have a receipt from every creditor + acknowledging the denial of responsibility of the Pacific Shipping + Company, I'm in the clear. It was up to the creditors to protect their + hands before the vessel went to sea! They had ample warning—and I + can prove it! I tell you, Mr. Ricks, when you begin to dig into this + matter you will find these creditors will claim that every article + furnished to the Tillicum while Morrow & Company had her was ordered + on requisitions signed by Captain Grant, your employee, or Collins, your + chief engineer. They were your servants and you paid their salaries.” + </p> + <p> + “All right then,” Cappy challenged. “Suppose we do have to pay. How about + that freight money you collected in Panama—eh? How about that? I + guess we'll have an accounting of the freight money, young man.” + </p> + <p> + “I submit, with all due respect, that what I did with that freight money I + collected in Panama is none of your confounded business. I chartered a + vessel from you and she was loaded with a cargo. The only interest you can + possibly have in that cargo lies in the fact that the Pacific Stevedoring + Company stowed it in the vessel and hasn't been paid some forty-five + hundred dollars for so stowing it, and eventually, of course, you'll have + to foot the bill as owner of the vessel. That vessel and cargo were thrown + back on my hands, not on yours; so why should you ask questions about my + business? You've got your nerve with you!” + </p> + <p> + “But you'll have to render an accounting to Morrow & Company,” Cappy + charged. + </p> + <p> + “I'll not. They gave me a check that was returned branded 'Not sufficient + funds;' they didn't keep their charter with me, and if I hadn't been a fly + young fellow their failure would have ruined me, and then a lot they'd + care about it! If I spoke to them about it they'd say: 'Well, these things + will happen in business. We're sorry; but what can we do about it?' No, + Mr. Ricks; I'm in the clear with Morrow & Company, and their creditors + will be lucky if I do not present my claim for ten thousand dollars + because of that worthless check I hold. When I collected from the Panama + Railroad Company for the freight on that southbound cargo I paid myself + all Morrow & Company owed me, and the rest is velvet if I choose to + keep it. If I do not choose to keep it the only honorable course for me to + pursue will be to send a statement and my check for the balance to the + receiver for Morrow & Company.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” demanded Mr. Skinner. “And leave the Blue Star Navigation Company + to pay the crew?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—and the fuel bill, and the butcher and the baker and the + candlestick maker, and the stevedoring firm, and the whole infernal, sorry + mess!” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks motioned to Mr. Skinner to be silent; then he rose and placed + his hand on Matt's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he said kindly, “look me in the eyes and see if you can have the + crust to tell me that, with all that freight money in your possession, you + do not intend to apply the residue to the payments of these claims against + the Tillicum.” + </p> + <p> + Matt bent low and peered fiercely into Cappy's face, for all the world + like a belligerent rooster. + </p> + <p> + “Once more, my dear Mr. Ricks,” he said impressively, I desire to inform + you that, so far as the steamer Tillicum is concerned, I venerate you as a + human Christmas tree. I'm the villain in this sketch and proud of it. + You're stabbed to the hilt! Why should I be expected to pay the debts of + your steamer?” + </p> + <p> + “But you used all the materials placed aboard her for your own use and + benefit.” + </p> + <p> + “That, Mr. Ricks, constitutes my profit,” Matt retorted pleasantly. “She + had fuel oil aboard when she was turned back on me sufficient to last her + to Panama and return—she had engine supplies, gear, beef in the + refrigerator, provisions in the storeroom, and clean laundry in the linen + lockers; in fact, I never went to sea in command of a ship that was better + found.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt Peasley,” said Cappy solemnly, “you think this is funny; but it + isn't. You do not realize what you are doing. Why, this action of yours + will be construed as highway robbery and no man on the Street will trust + you. You must think of your future in business. If this leaks out nobody + will ever extend you any credit—” + </p> + <p> + “I should worry about credit when I have the cash!” Matt retorted. “I'm + absolutely within the law, and this whole affair is my picnic and your + funeral. Moreover, I dare you to give me permission to circulate this + story up and down California Street! Yes, sir, I dare you—and you + aren't game! Why, everybody would be cheering for me and laughing at you, + and you'd get about as much sympathy as a rich relative with arterial + sclerosis. I haven't any sympathy for you, Mr. Ricks. You got me into this + whole mess when a kind word from you would have kept me out of it. But, + no; you wouldn't extend me that kind word. You wanted to see me get + tangled up and go broke; and when you thought I was a dead one you made + fun of me and rejoiced in my wretchedness, and did everything you could to + put me down and out, just so you could say: 'Well, I warned you, Matt; but + you would go to it. You have nobody to blame but yourself.' + </p> + <p> + “Of course I realize that you didn't want to make any money out of me; but + you did want to manhandle me, Mr. Ricks, just as a sporting proposition. + Besides, you tried to double-cross me with that wireless message. I knew + what you were up to. You thought you had pulled the same stunt on me I + pulled on you, and that letter to Captain Grant contained full + instructions. However, you wanted to be so slick about it you wouldn't get + caught with your fingers in the jam; so you forbore to cancel my charter. + You figured you'd present me with my troubles all in one heap the day I + got back from Panama. I'm onto you!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess we've still got a sting in our tail,” Cappy answered + pertly. “Slap on your libels. We'll lift 'em all, and to-morrow we'll + expect eighteen thousand dollars from you, or I'm afraid, Matthew, my boy, + you're going to lose that ship with her cargo of steel rails, and we'll + collect the freight.” + </p> + <p> + “Again you lose. You'll have to make a formal written demand on me for the + money before you cancel the charter; and when you do I'll hand you a + certified check for eighteen thousand dollars. Don't think for a minute + that I'm a pauper, Mr. Ricks; because I'm not. When a fellow freights one + cargo to Panama and another back, and it doesn't cost him a blamed cent to + stow the first cargo and cheap Jamaica nigger labor to stow the second, + and the cost of operating the ship for the round trip is absolutely nil—I + tell you, sir, there's money in it.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks' eyes blazed, but he controlled his temper and made one final + appeal. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he said plaintively, “you infernal young cut-up, quit kidding the + old man! Don't tell me that a Peasley, of Thomaston, Maine, would take + advantage of certain adventitious circumstances and the legal loopholes + provided by our outrageous maritime laws—” + </p> + <p> + “To swindle the Blue Star Navigation Company!” Mr. Skinner cut in. + </p> + <p> + “Swindle is an ugly word, Mr. Skinner. Please do not use it again to + describe my legitimate business—and don't ask any sympathy of me. + You two are old enough and experienced enough in the shipping game to spin + your own tops. You didn't give me any the best of it; you crowded my hand + and joggled my elbow, and it would have been the signal for a half holiday + in the office if I had gone broke.” + </p> + <p> + “But after all Mr. Ricks has done for you—” + </p> + <p> + “He always had value received, and I asked no favors of him—and + received none.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely, my dear Matt,” Skinner purred, for the first time calling his + ancient enemy by his Christian name—“surely you're jesting with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, old horse, I was never more serious in my life. Mr. Alden P. + Ricks is my ideal of a perfect business man; and just before I left for + Panama he informed me—rather coldly, I thought—that he never + mixed sentiment with business. Moreover, he advised me not to do it + either. To surrender to him now would mean the fracturing, for the first + time in history, of a slogan that has been in the Peasley tribe for + generations.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” Cappy queried with shaking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Pay your way and take your beating like a sport, sir,” Matt shot at him. + He drew out his watch. “Well,” he continued, “I guess the United States + Marshal is in charge of the Tillicum by this time; so get busy with the + bond and have him removed from the ship. The minute one of those birds + lights on my deck I just go crazy!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do!” screamed Cappy Ricks, completely losing his self-control. + “You go crazy—like a fox!” + </p> + <p> + And then Cappy Ricks did something he had never done before. He swore, + with a depth of feeling and a range of language to be equalled only by a + lumberjack. Matt Peasley waited until he subsided for lack of new + invective and then said reproachfully: + </p> + <p> + “I can't stand this any longer, Mr. Ricks. I'll have to go now. Back home + I belonged to the Congregational Church—” + </p> + <p> + “Out!” yelled Cappy. “Out, you vagabond!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIII. CAPPY PLANS A KNOCK-OUT + </h2> + <p> + The morning following Matt Peasley's triumphant return from Panama with + the steamer Tillicum, Cappy Ricks created a mild sensation in his offices + by reporting for duty at a quarter past eight. Mr. Skinner was already at + his desk, for he was a slave driver who drove himself fully as hard as he + did those under him. He glanced up apprehensively as Cappy bustled in. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what has happened, Mr. Ricks?” he queried. + </p> + <p> + “I have an idea,” said Cappy. “Skinner, my boy, a word with you in + private.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner rose with alacrity, for instinct warned him that he was in for + some fast and clever work. Cappy sat in at his desk, and Skinner, drawing + up a chair, sat down beside him and waited respectfully for Cappy to + begin. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” Cappy began impressively, “for many years you and I have been + harboring the delusion that we are business men, whereas, if we can stand + to hear the truth told about ourselves, we handle a deal with the reckless + abandon of a pair of bear cubs juggling hazel nuts.” + </p> + <p> + “I have sufficient self-esteem,” Skinner replied stiffly, “not to take + that pessimistic view of myself. If you refer to the inglorious rout we + suffered yesterday in our skirmish with Captain Matt Peasley, permit me to + remind you, in all respect, that you handled that entire deal yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” said Cappy witheringly. “Why, you aided and abetted me, Skinner. + You told me my strategy was absolutely flawless.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not the seventh son of a seventh son, sir. I did not see the flaw in + your strategy. You lost by one of those strange accidents which must be + attributed to the interference of the Almighty in the affairs of men.” + </p> + <p> + “Lost!” Cappy jeered. “Lost! Skinner, you infuriate me. I haven't lost. + Like John Paul Jones, I haven't yet commenced to fight. Skinner, listen to + me. When I get through with that Matt Peasley you can take it from me + he'll be sore from soul to vermiform appendix.” + </p> + <p> + “If I may be permitted a criticism, sir, I would suggest that you let this + matter rest right where it is. Surely you realize the delicate position + you are in, quarreling with your future son-in-law—” + </p> + <p> + “Agh-h-h! Pooh!” snapped Cappy. “That's all outside office hours. I + haven't any grudge against the boy and he knows it. I don't want his + little old bank roll—that is, for keeps. When I went into this deal, + Skinner, I was actuated by the same benevolent intentions as a man that + desires to cure a hound pup of sucking eggs. He fills an egg with cayenne + pepper and leaves it where the pup can find it—and after that the + pup sucks no more eggs. I love this boy Matt like he was my own son, but + he's too infernally fresh! He holds people too cheap; he's too trustful. + He's made his little wad too easily, and easy money never did any man any + good. So I wanted to teach him that business is business, and if I could + take his roll away from him I was going to do it. Of course, Skinner, I + need not remind you that I would have loaned him the next minute, without + interest and without security, every cent I'd taken from him in this deal—” + </p> + <p> + “But why peeve over it, Mr. Ricks? If Captain Matt—” + </p> + <p> + “At my age—to take a beating like that?” Cappy shrilled. + “Impossible! Why, he'll tell this story on the Merchants' Exchange, and I + can't afford that. Not at my age, Skinner, not at my age! I have a + reputation to sustain, and, by the Holy Pink-toed Prophet, I'm going to + sustain it. I'm going down fighting like a bear cat. I know he scalded us + yesterday, Skinner, but every dog must have his day—and that + dog-gone Matt's day dawned this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “The only tactical error, if I may appear hypercritical,” Skinner said + suavely, “was your failure to cancel the charter on the very day that Matt + slipped up on his first advance payment. If you had done that you would + have had him. Don't say I didn't call your attention to the fact that his + payment was overdue!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if I had done that I would have had him, but how much would I have + had him for? Paltry nine thousand dollars! I wanted him to get into the + financial quicksands up to his chin—and then I'd have had him! + Besides, Skinner, I had to go slow. Just think what would have happened if + Florry found me out! Why, I would have had to call off the dogs before I + was half through the job.” + </p> + <p> + “He's probably told her all about it by now,” Skinner suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Don't get him wrong,” Cappy protested. “He's no tattle-tale. He'll fight + fair. However, as I was saying, I couldn't do anything raw, Skinner. I had + planned, when Matt reached Panama and discovered he had been + double-crossed to pass the buck up to you!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner started, but Cappy continued serenely: + </p> + <p> + “I planned to be away from the office when the blow-off came, and you were + to have borne the brunt of Matt's fury and despair. Why, what the devil do + I have a general manager for if not to help me out in these little + affairs? And besides, Skinner, when he blew in here the day Morrow & + Company hit the ceiling, he was so excited and worried I felt positive he + was busted then; so what was the use calling him for his overdue payment + when if I let him run on I'd have his young soul in hock for the next ten + years?” Cappy leaned forward and laid an impressive hand on Mr. Skinner's + knee. “You know, Skinner, we really need that boy in this office, and it + would have been a fine thing to have gotten him and gotten him right. Then + he wouldn't be leaving the reservation to chase rainbows. However, as the + boys say, I overlooked a bet, but I'll not overlook another.” + </p> + <p> + “You said you had an idea,” Mr. Skinner suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I have. Just at present there is a libel on the Tillicum, and when we + lift it Matt Peasley is prepared to plaster another libel on her, and + another, and still another. Now, as a result of our conversation with Matt + yesterday, he thinks we'll lift the libel to-day—in fact, settle + with him for what he paid the crew when they assigned their wage claim to + his company, and thus prevent any further libels. Now, if we do that it + leaves Matt in the clear to commence discharging his cargo, but at the + same time it makes it incumbent upon him to slam a certified check for + eighteen thousand dollars down on the Blue Star counter, in order to hold + the vessel long enough to discharge her and collect the freight. Then + he'll turn the vessel back on our hands with many thanks—rot him!” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt that such are his intentions, Mr. Ricks; in which event + he will, of course, be ready with the certified check the instant we make + formal, written demand upon him for our money. I believe I have already + warned you, sir, that we cannot cancel the charter without first making + formal, written demand for our charter money.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Cappy, “we'll get round that all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray, how?” + </p> + <p> + “What time did Matt Peasley leave this office after the battle yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say in the neighborhood of half after three.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Ahem! Harump-h-h! The banks close at three, and they do not reopen + for business until ten this morning. It is now exactly a quarter of nine. + Has Matt Peasley had time to procure a certified check since he arrived + from Panama—or has he not?” + </p> + <p> + “The situation admits of no argument,” Mr. Skinner admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly! He didn't have time yesterday, and he sha'n't have time to-day, + and to-morrow will be too late, because his money is due us to-day! We + shall lift all those libels and free the Tillicum for him; then we shall + make formal demand upon him for eighteen thousand dollars, in cash or + certified check—we can legally decline his check unless certified—and + when he fails to make good we formally cancel the charter. Then what + happens? I'll tell you. We grab the boat with a full cargo from him as he + grabbed it from Morrow & Company with a full cargo. Then we collect + the freight on that northbound cargo as he collected the freight on the + southbound cargo, and,” Cappy continued calmly, “I dare say that freight + money will put us in the clear on all those bills we're stuck for.” + </p> + <p> + “And to do all this,” Skinner remarked sententiously, “it is necessary to + tie up Matt Peasley's bank account the instant the bank opens this + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” said Cappy feelingly, “you get me almost before I get myself. + Now listen, while I give you your orders: Go right up to our attorney's + office, take our copy of the charter with you, explain that Matt has + defaulted in his payments, and instruct our attorney to enter suit to + collect. Tell him to get the complaint out and filed within three-quarters + of an hour, and then, the instant he has filed the suit, he is to get out + a writ of attachment on the Pacific Shipping Company's bank account.” + </p> + <p> + “But we cannot do that, Mr. Ricks. We must make formal, written demand for + the payments in arrears before we can proceed to force collection—” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. We'll do that after we've tied up his bank account.” + </p> + <p> + “But when we get into court we'll be nonsuited because we didn't do that + first.” + </p> + <p> + “I sincerely hope so. But in the meanwhile we've tied up Matt's bank + account, and while we're arguing the merits of our action in so doing, + another sun will have set, and when it rises again”—Cappy kissed his + hand airily into space—“the good ship Tillicum will be back under + the Blue Star Flag—” + </p> + <p> + “But Matt Peasley will allege conspiracy and a lot of things, and he can + sue us and get the boat back and force us to render an accounting of that + freight money.” + </p> + <p> + “That situation will admit of much argument, Skinner. However, Matt will + not sue me. Florry wouldn't let him! He'll make us lift the attachment on + his bank account, and then he'll protect himself and tell us to whistle + for the eighteen thousand dollars he owes us. Whichever way the cat jumps + he wins. What I want to do is break even and with a modicum of my + self-respect left intact.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll promptly file a bond to lift the attachment—” + </p> + <p> + “Will he? Who in this city will go on his bond? Who does he know?” + </p> + <p> + “There are bonding companies in business, and for a cash consideration—” + </p> + <p> + “Rot! They will investigate and ponder before granting his application for + a bond. It takes a day or two to get a bond through a bonding house, and + all I want to do is to tie Matt up for a day. Now, listen! You see to it + that the suit is filed and an attachment levied on Matt Peasley's bank + account in the Marine National. That's where he keeps his little wad, + because I took him over and introduced him there myself. Well, sir, in the + meantime I'll call up Matt and precipitate a devil of a row with him over + the phone. I'll tell him I've made up my mind to fight him to the last + ditch and that those libels will not be lifted until he lifts them + himself. Of course, he'll figure right away that he won't need a certified + check to-day, and maybe he'll neglect to provide himself with one; or he + may be chump enough to figure we'll take his check uncertified, and if he + does that will teach him something.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm betting he'll not be caught napping,” Mr. Skinner declared, + “and if you want my opinion of this new proceeding I will state frankly + that I am not in favor of it. It savors too much of assination. Of course, + you may do it and get away with it—” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” snorted Cappy. “Forget it. At ten minutes of three this afternoon + the libel on the Tillicum will be lifted, and Matt Peasley will be paid in + cash the sum he advanced his crew for wages. That will block him from + slapping any more libels on her and holding us up. Then we'll make formal, + written demand upon him for eighteen thousand dollars; he won't have it + where he can lay his hands on it, and he'll be up Salt Creek without a + paddle.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not in favor of it,” Mr. Skinner reiterated firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Neither am I, Skinner, but I've got to do something. Can't let that young + pup cover me with blood. No, sir, not at my age, Skinner. I can't afford + to be laughed off California Street. And by the way, since when did you + become a champion of Matt Peasley?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “Since when?” Cappy repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Since he administered such a thorough thrashing to the Blue Star + Navigation Company,” Mr. Skinner answered, “and did it without prejudice. + He swatted us, and we deserved it, but he didn't get angry. Every time he + banged us, he'd look at me as much as to say: 'I hate to swat you two, but + it's got to be done.' Bang! 'This hurts me more than it does you.' Biff! + And then he went out smiling. I used to think he was an—an—interloper, + I thought he had designs on the Blue Star Navigation Company and the Ricks + Lumber and Logging Company, but he hasn't. He doesn't give a hoot for + anything or anybody except for what he can be to them; not for what they + can be to him. He's brainy and spunky and, by thunder, I'm for him, and if + you're going to hand him a clout when he isn't looking you'll have to do + it yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” said Cappy Ricks impressively. “Look me square in the eye. Do + you refuse orders?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, sir,” Skinner replied, and looked Cappy in the eye so fiercely that + the old schemer quailed. “This is an unworthy business, Mr. Ricks. You're + trying to teach Matt Peasley some business tricks, and he's taught you a + few, so be a sport, sir, and pay for your education.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” Cappy replied meekly. “When my own general manager goes back + on me, I suppose there's nothing to do but quit. The program appears to be + impracticable, so we'll say no more about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear you say that, Mr. Ricks,” Skinner answered feelingly, + and forthwith repaired to his own office. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks gazed after him almost affectionately, and as the door closed + behind the general manager, Cappy murmured sotto voce: + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, I've been twenty-five years wondering why the devil I liked you, + and now I know. Why, you cold-blooded, efficient, human automaton, you've + actually got a heart! Bow! wow! Faithful Fido Skinner was just a-tugging + at the chain and dragging the dog house after him in his efforts to eat me + up! I hope I go bankrupt if I don't raise his salary!” + </p> + <p> + He turned to a pigeonhole in his desk and drew forth the charter he had + negotiated months before with Matt Peasley for the Tillicum. He read it + over carefully, tucked it in his breast pocket and slipped quietly out the + door. One hour later a suit against the Pacific Shipping Company was filed + in the county clerk's office, and at five minutes after ten a + deputy-sheriff appeared at the paying-teller's window in the Marine + National Bank and filed a writ of attachment on the funds to their credit. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIV. SKINNER DEVELOPS INTO A HUMAN BEING + </h2> + <p> + Cappy Ricks was having his mid-afternoon siesta in his office when Captain + Matt Peasley appeared at the counter of the general office and, without + awaiting an invitation to enter, swung through the office gate and made + straight for Cappy's office. En route he had to pass through Mr. Skinner's + lair, and the general manager looked up as Matt entered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain,” he said pleasantly, “how goes it?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine,” Matt answered with equal urbanity. “That was a slick piece of work + tying up my bank account. I can't get a bond to-day, the bank is closed, + and I suppose you're going to insist upon payment of that eighteen + thousand dollars before midnight to-night or take the Tillicum and her + cargo away from me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner started in genuine amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Attached your bank account, Matt? I give you my word of honor I had + nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's tied up by the Blue Star Navigation Company, and Cappy Ricks + has served notice on me to call here and pay up or suffer cancellation of + my charter. Of course, for all the good my bank account is to me this + minute he might as well ask me to give him the moon.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm truly sorry,” said Skinner. “I protested to Mr. Ricks against this + action. I assure you I would not have taken such a course myself—under + the circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “Cappy wants cash or a certified check,” Matt complained, “and he's made + it impossible for me to go to my bank and get either—to-day. What am + I going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you're going to lose the Tillicum and her cargo. The Blue Star + Navigation Company will doubtless collect the freight on that northbound + cargo. Besides, Mr. Ricks has some business offered for the Tillicum and + wants her back—” + </p> + <p> + “But I was going to give her back to him as soon as I discharged her + cargo. Now, just for that he'll not get her back. I'll keep her the full + year.” + </p> + <p> + “But how?” Mr. Skinner queried kindly. + </p> + <p> + “By paying the Blue Star Navigation Company eighteen thousand dollars in + good old U. S. yellow-backs.” Matt laughed and drew from his hip pocket a + roll that would have choked a hippopotamus. “Skinner, this is so rich I'll + have to tell you about it, and then if you're good I'll let you be present + when I put the crusher on Cappy. His plan was without a flaw. He had me + right where he wanted me—only something slipped.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” Mr. Skinner demanded breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, as soon as my account was attached, the bank called me up and told + me about it. I was just about to start for the bank to make a deposit of + all that freight money I had collected in Panama—about twenty-four + thousand dollars, more or less—the Panama Railroad gave it to me in + a lump—exchange on San Francisco, you know—” + </p> + <p> + “So you cashed that draft at the bank upon which it was drawn—” + </p> + <p> + “And I'm here with the cash to smother Cappy Ricks! I'll cover him with + confusion, the old villain! Skinner, I give you my word, if he hadn't + tried to slip one over on me I would never have stuck him with all those + bills Morrow & Company didn't pay, but now that he's gone and attached + my bank account—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner rose and took Matt Peasley by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he said in the friendliest fashion imaginable. “You and I have + clashed since the first day I learned of your existence, but we're not + going to clash any more.” He pointed to the door leading to Cappy Ricks' + office. “One of these days, Matt, whether you want to or not, you're going + to be occupying that office and giving orders to me, and when you do I + want to tell you here and now I shall accord you the same measure of + respect I now accord Mr. Ricks. I've worked twenty-five years for Mr. + Ricks. I—I'm—absurdly fond of him, for all his er—er—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, so am I, Skinner. I'd do anything to please him—” + </p> + <p> + “Then do it,” Skinner pleaded. “Give him a cheap victory. He's an old man + and he'll enjoy it. He didn't sleep a wink last night, just scheming a way + to get a strangle hold on you—it's hard for the old to give way to + the young, you know—and now he's inside there, just hungering for + you to arrive so he can jeer at you and lecture you and make fun of you. + He doesn't want your money. Why, he loves you as if you were his own boy—” + </p> + <p> + “But how can I let him get away with this deal?” Matt queried soberly. + </p> + <p> + “By rushing in on him now and simulating a terrific rage. Just imagine + you're on the bridge of a steamer making up to a dock against a strong + flood tide, with stupid mates fore and aft, and rotten lines that won't + hold when you get them over the dolphins, and the tide has grabbed you and + slammed you into the dock and done five hundred dollars' worth of damage—just + feel like that, Matt—” + </p> + <p> + “If I do I'll cuss something scandalous,” Matt warned him. + </p> + <p> + “The harder the better.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'm to keep this money in my pocket, and let him cancel my charter, + and take that northbound cargo away from me, and collect the freight on me—” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly that! He'll withdraw his suit against you to-morrow and release + your bank account, and then you decline to pay him the eighteen thousand + dollars you owe him until he gives an accounting of the freight money he's + collected. He'll tell you to go to Halifax, but you mustn't mind. It's + going to make him as happy as a fool to think he beat you in the end.” + </p> + <p> + A slow smile spread over Matt's face. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner,” he said. “You're a good old wagon, that's what you are. I'm + sorry we ever had any mix-up, and we'll never have another—after + this one—and this is going to be a fake. You see, Skinner, if we're + going to put one over on Cappy let's have it one worth while—so this + is the program. I've just arrived, with blood in my eye, to clean out the + Blue Star office, and I'm starting in with the general manager. Clinch me + now, and we'll wrestle all over the office and bang against the furniture + and that door there—” + </p> + <p> + As Cappy Ricks was wont to remark, Mr. Skinner could “get” one before one + could “get” one's self. + </p> + <p> + “Get out of my office, you infernal rowdy,” he yelled loud enough to + awaken Cappy Ricks next door. Then he clinched with Matt Peasley. + </p> + <p> + “A good fight,” said Cappy Ricks half an hour after Matt Peasley had been + pried away from Mr. Skinner and forced to listen to reason, “is the + grandest thing in life. Now there's that crazy boy gone out in a rage just + because he had the presumption to tangle with me in a business deal and + get dog-gone well licked! He put it all over me yesterday, thinking I + couldn't protect myself. Well, he knows better now, Skinner; he knows + better now! In-fer-nal young scoundrel! Wow, but wasn't he a wild man, + Skinner? Wasn't he though?” And Cappy Ricks chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “You have probably cured him of sucking eggs,” Mr. Skinner observed + enigmatically. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I handed the young pup a dose of cayenne pepper, at any rate,” + Cappy bragged, “and I wouldn't have missed doing it for a cool hundred + thousand. Why, Skinner, a man might as well retire from business when he + gets so weak and feeble and soft-headed he doesn't know how to protect + himself in the clinches and break-aways.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner smiled. “The old dog for the cold scent,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “You bet,” Cappy cackled triumphantly. “Skinner, my dear boy, what are we + paying you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ten thousand a year, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Not enough money. Hereafter pay yourself twelve thousand. Tut, tut. Not a + peep out of you, sir, not a peep. If you do, Skinner, you'll spoil the + happiest day I've known in twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLV. CAPPY PULLS OFF A WEDDING + </h2> + <p> + About a week later, Captain Matt Peasley was studying the weather chart at + the Merchants' Exchange when he heard behind him a propitiatory “Ahem! + Hum-m-m! Harump-h-h-h!”—infallible evidence that Cappy Ricks was in + the immediate offing, yearning for Matt to turn round in order that he + might hail the boy and thus re-establish diplomatic relations. Matt, + however, elected to be perverse and pay no attention to Cappy; instead, he + moved closer to the chart and affected greater interest in it. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, you big, sulky boob!” Cappy snapped presently, unable to stand the + silence any longer. “Come away from that weather chart. It's blowing a + fifty-mile nor'west gale off Point Reyes, and that's all any shipping man + cares to know to-day. You haven't got any ships at sea!” + </p> + <p> + “No; but you have, sir,” Matt replied, unable longer to simulate + indifference to Cappy's presence. “The Tillicum is bucking into that gale + this minute, wasting fuel oil and making about four miles an hour. I'm + glad you're paying for the oil. Where are you loading her?” + </p> + <p> + “At Hinch's Mill, in Aberdeen, Grays Harbor; discharge at Honolulu and + back with sugar.” Cappy came close to Matt and drew the latter's great arm + through his. “Say, Matt,” he queried plaintively, “are you still mad over + that walloping I gave you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well-l, no. I think I've recovered. And I'm not willing to admit I was + walloped. The best you got out of our little mix-up with the Tillicum was + a lucky draw.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm still out a lot of money,” Cappy admitted. “You owe me eighteen + thousand dollars on that charter I canceled on you, Matt, and you ought to + pay it. Really, you ought.” + </p> + <p> + “That being tantamount to an admission on your part you cannot go into + court with clean hands and force me to pay it,” Matt flashed back at him, + “I'll make you a proposition: You render me an accounting of the freight + you collected on the cargo you stole from me, and I'll render you an + accounting for the freight on the cargo I stole from you; then we'll get + an insurance adjuster in and let him figure out, by general average, how + much I would owe you if I had a conscience; then I'll give you my note, + due in one year, at six per cent. for whatever the amount may be.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not give me the cash?” Cappy pleaded. “You've got the money in bank.” + </p> + <p> + “I know; but I want to use it for a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Your note's no good to me,” Cappy protested. “I told you once before it + wasn't hockable at any bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll withdraw my proposition.” + </p> + <p> + “And present a substitute?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll take your note,” Cappy said eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for the compliment,” Matt laughed; and Cappy, no longer able + to dissemble, laughed with him—and their feud was over. + Consequently, post-mortems being in order, Matt went on: “I feel pretty + sneaky about sticking you with all those bills on the Tillicum that Morrow + & Company defaulted on, just because the law enabled me to do so—but + you did your best to ruin me; you wouldn't have showed me any pity or + consideration.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a dog-goned bit!” Cappy declared firmly. “I was out to bust you wide + open for the good of your immortal soul. I would have taken your roll away + from you, my son, by fair means—or—er—legal, if I + could.” He looked up at Matt, with such a smile as he might have applied + to a lovable and well-beloved son. “I hope you've got sporting blood + enough in you to realize I didn't really want your little bank roll, + Matt,” he said half pleadingly. “I don't know just why I did it—except + that I'm an old man and I know it; and I hate to be out of the running. I + suppose, just because I'm old, I wanted to take a fall out of you—you're + so young; and—oh, Matt, you do make a scrap so worth while! + </p> + <p> + “And, because I've lived longer in this world and fought harder for what + I've got than you'll ever have to fight, I wanted to put about six feet of + hot iron into your soul. You're a little bit too cocksure, Matt. I tell + you it's a mistake to hold your business competitor cheap. I want you to + know that the fine gentleman who plays cribbage with you at your club + to-night will lift the hair off your head down here on the Street + to-morrow, because that's the game; and nobody shakes hands with you + before giving you the poke that puts you to sleep. There are a lot of old + men out in the almshouse just because they trusted too much in human + nature; and I wanted to show you how hard and cruel men can be and excuse + their piracy on the plea that it is business! I tell you, Matt Peasley, + when you've lived as long as I have you'll know men for the swine they are + whenever they see some real money in sight.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shouldn't be surprised if you got the lesson over after all,” + Matt replied gravely. “You certainly made me step lively to keep from + getting run over. You scared me out of a year's growth.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy laughed contentedly. + </p> + <p> + “And what are you going to do with all this money you admit you owe me and + decline to let me see the color of for a year?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really want to know?” Matt queried. + </p> + <p> + “I'll take you to luncheon up at the Commercial Club if you'll tell me.” + </p> + <p> + Matt bent low and whispered in Cappy's ear: + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to marry your daughter. I'll have to furnish a home and—” + </p> + <p> + “No excuse!” said Cappy fiercely. “Son, all you've got to buy is the + wedding ring and the license, and some clothes. I'm stuck for the wedding + expenses and you don't have to furnish a home. My house is big enough for + three, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “But this thing of living with your wife's relations—” Matt began + mischievously, until he saw the pain and the loneliness in Cappy's kind + old eyes. “Oh, well,” he hastened to add, “pull it off to suit yourself; + but don't waste any time.” + </p> + <p> + “In-fer-nal young scoundrel!” Cappy cried happily. “We've waited too long + already.” + </p> + <p> + Florry was a June bride, and the proudest and happiest man present, not + excepting the groom, was old Cappy Ricks. He looked fully two inches + taller as he walked up the church aisle, with Florry on his arm, and + handed her over to Matt Peasley, waiting at the altar. And when the + ceremony was over, and Matt had entered the waiting limousine with his + bride, Cappy Ricks stood on the church steps among a dozen of his young + friends from the wholesale lumber and shipping trade and made a brief + oration. + </p> + <p> + “Take a good look at him, boys,” he said proudly. “You fresh young fellows + will have to tangle with him one of these bright days; and when you do + he'll make hell look like a summer holiday to you. See if he doesn't!” + </p> + <p> + Later, when Matt and Florry, about to leave on their honeymoon, were + saying good-bye, Matt put his huge arm round Cappy and gave him a filial + hug. Cappy's eyes filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we understand each other, sonny,” he said haltingly. “I've wanted + a son like you, Matt. Had a boy once—little chap—just seven + when he died—might have been big like you. I was the runt of the + Ricks' tribe, you know—all the other boys over six feet—and + his mother's people—same stock. I—I—” + </p> + <p> + Matt patted his shoulder. Truly he understood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0046" id="link2HCH0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVI. A SHIP FORGOTTEN + </h2> + <p> + The Blue Star Navigation Company's big steam schooner Amelia Ricks, + northbound to load lumber at Aberdeen in command of a skipper who revered + his berth to such an extent that he thought only of pleasing Mr. Skinner + by making fast time, thus failing to take into consideration a two-mile + current setting shoreward, had come to grief. Her skipper had cut a corner + once too often and started overland with her right across the toe of Point + Gorda. Her wireless brought two tugs hastening up from San Francisco; but, + before they could haul her off at high tide, the jagged reef had chewed + her bottom to rags, and in a submerged condition she was towed back to + port and kicked into the dry dock at Hunters Point. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks, feverishly excited over the affair, was very anxious to get a + report on the condition of the vessel as soon as possible. He had planned + to hire a launch and proceed to Hunters Point for a personal appraisal of + the damage to the Amelia Ricks, but the northwest trades were blowing half + a gale that day and had kicked up just sufficient sea to warn Cappy that + seasickness would be his portion if he essayed to brave it in a launch. It + occurred to him, therefore, to stay in the office and send somebody in + whose knowledge of ships he had profound confidence. He got Matt Peasley + on the phone at once. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he said plaintively. “I want you to do the old man a favor, if you + will. You heard about our Amelia Ricks, didn't you? Well, she's in dry + dock at Hunters Point now, and they'll have the dock pumped out in two + hours so we can see what her bottom looks like. I know she's ripped out + clear up to the garboards and probably hogged, and I can hardly wait to + make sure. The marine surveyor for the Underwriters will go down this + afternoon to look her over, and then he'll take a day to present his long, + typewritten report—and I can't wait that long. Will you skip down to + Crowley's boathouse, hire a launch and charge it to us, and go down to see + the Amelia? She'll be shored up by the time you get down there. Make a + good quick examination of the damage and hurry back so I can talk it over + with you. I go a heap on your judgment, Matt.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll start right away, sir,” Matt promised, glad of any opportunity to + favor Cappy. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later, on his way back to the Mission Street bulkhead, he + passed, in Mission Bay, a huge, rusty red box of a steel freighter, + swinging at anchor. Under ordinary weather conditions Matt would have paid + no attention to her; but, as has already been stated, the northwest trades + were blowing a gale and had kicked up a sea; hence the steamer was rolling + freely at her anchorage, and as the launch bobbed by to windward of her + she rolled far over to leeward—and Matt saw something that + challenged his immediate attention and provoked his profound disgust. The + sides of the vessel below the water line were incrusted with barnacles and + eelgrass fully six inches thick! + </p> + <p> + No skipper that ever set foot on a bridge could pass that scaly hulk + unmoved. Matt Peasley said uncomplimentary things about the owners of the + vessel and directed the launchman to pass in under her stern, in order + that he might read her name. She proved to be the Narcissus, of London. + </p> + <p> + He stood in the stern of the launch, staring thoughtfully after the + Narcissus, and before his mind there floated that vision of the barnacles + and eelgrass, infallible evidence that the years had been long since the + Narcissus had been hauled out. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know how long that steamer has lain there?” he queried of the + launchman. + </p> + <p> + “I been runnin' launches to and from Hunters Point for seven years an' she + was there when I come on the job,” the latter answered. + </p> + <p> + “It's no place for a good ship,” Matt Peasley murmured musingly. “She + ought to be out on the dark blue, loaded and earning good money for her + owners. I must find out why she isn't doing it.” + </p> + <p> + Having rendered a meticulous report to Cappy on the condition of the + Amelia Ricks, Matt, his brain still filled with thoughts of that lonely + big steamer swinging neglected in Mission Bay among the rotting oyster + boats and old clipper ships waiting to be converted into coal hulks, + proceeded to the Merchants' Exchange where Lloyds' Register soon put him + in possession of the following information: + </p> + <p> + The steamer Narcissus had been built in Glasgow in 1894 by Sutherland + & Sons, Limited. She was four hundred and fifty-five feet long, + fifty-eight feet beam and thirty-one feet draft. She had triple-expansion + engines of two thousand indicated horse power, two Scotch boilers, and was + of seventy-five hundred tons net register. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” Matt murmured. “She'll carry forty per cent. more than her + registered tonnage; if I had the loading of her she'd carry fifty per + cent. more, at certain seasons of the year. I wonder why her owners have + let her lie idle for eight years? I'll have to ask Jerry Dooley. He knows + everything about ships that a landsman can possibly know.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry Dooley had presided over the desk at the Merchants' Exchange for so + many years that there was a rumor current to the effect that he had been + there in the days when the water used to come up to Montgomery Street. + Before Jerry's desk the skippers of all nations came and went; to him + there drifted inevitably all of the little, intimate gossip of the + shipping world. If somebody built a ship and she had trouble with her oil + burners on the trial trip, Jerry Dooley would know all about it before + that vessel got back to her dock again. If somebody else's ship was a wet + boat, Jerry knew of it, and could, moreover, give one the name of the + naval architect responsible; if a vessel had been hogged on a reef, Jerry + could tell you the name of the reef, the date of the wreck, the location + of the hog, and all about the trouble they had keeping her cargo dry as a + result. To this human encyclopedia, therefore, did Matt Peasley come in + his still-hunt for information touching the steamer Narcissus. + </p> + <p> + He opened negotiations by handing Jerry Dooley a good cigar. Jerry + examined it, saw that it was a good cigar, and said: “I don't smoke + myself, but I have a brother that does.” He fixed Matt Peasley with an + alert, inquisitive eye and said: “Well, what do you know, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing much. What do you know about the steamer Narcissus?” + </p> + <p> + Jerry Dooley scratched his red head. + </p> + <p> + “Narcissus!” he murmured. “Narcissus! By George, it's a long time since I + heard of her. Has she just come into port?” And he glanced apprehensively + at the register of arrivals and departures, wondering if he hadn't + overlooked the Narcissus. + </p> + <p> + “She's been in port eight years at least,” Matt answered; “tucked away + down in Mission Bay, with a watchman aboard.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I remember now,” Jerry replied. “She belongs to the Oriental + Steamship Company. Old man Webb, of the Oriental Company, got all worked + up about the possibilities of the Oriental trade right after the Spanish + War. He had a lot of old bottoms running in the combined freight and + passenger trade and not making expenses when the war came along, and the + Government grabbed all his boats for transports to rush troops over to the + Philippines. That was fine business for quite a while and the Oriental got + out of the hole and made a lot of money besides. About that time Old Webb + saw a vision of huge Oriental trade for the man who would go after it, and + in his excitement he purchased the Narcissus. She carried horses down to + the Philippines, and to China during the Boxer uprising; and when that + business was over, and while old Webb was waiting for the expected boom in + trade to the Orient, he got a lumber charter for her from Puget Sound to + Australia. But she was never built for a lumber boat, though she carried + six million five hundred thousand feet; she was so big and it took so long + to load and discharge her that she lost twenty-five thousand dollars on + the voyage. Run her in the lumber trade and the demurrage would break a + national bank. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, after that lumber charter, old man Webb had a fit. He tried + her out on a few grain charters, but she didn't make any money to speak + of; and about that time the P. & S. W., with a view to grabbing some + Oriental freight for their road, got the control of the steamship company + away from Webb. The Oriental trade boom never developed, and the regular + steamers, carrying freight and passengers, were ample to cope with what + business the company was offered; so they didn't need the Narcissus. + </p> + <p> + “As I remember it, she was expensive to operate. She had a punk pair of + boilers or she needed another boiler—or something; at any rate, she + was a hog on coal, and they laid her up until such time as they could find + use for her. I suppose after she was laid up a few years the thought of + all the money it would cost to put her in commission again discouraged + them—and she's been down in Mission Bay ever since.” + </p> + <p> + “But the Canal will soon be open,” Matt suggested. “One would suppose + they'd put her in commission and find business for her between Pacific and + Atlantic coast ports.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget she's a foreign-built vessel and hence cannot run between + American ports.” + </p> + <p> + “She can run between North and South American ports,” Matt replied + doggedly. “I bet if I owned her I'd dig up enough business in Brazil and + the Argentine to keep her busy. I'd be dodging backward and forward + through the Canal.” + </p> + <p> + “You would, of course,” Jerry answered placidly; “but the Oriental + Steamship Company cannot.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Fifty-one per cent. of their stock is owned by a railroad—and under + the law no railroad-owned ship may use the Canal.” + </p> + <p> + Matt's eyebrows arched. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he murmured. “Then that's one of the reasons why she's a white + elephant on their hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Got a customer for her?” Jerry queried shrewdly. “A fellow ought to be + able to pick the Narcissus up rather cheap.” + </p> + <p> + Matt shook his head negatively. + </p> + <p> + “Happened to pass her in a launch a couple of hours ago, and the sight of + the barnacles on her bottom just naturally graveled me and roused my + curiosity. Much obliged for your information.” And Matt excused himself + and strolled over to the counter of the Hydro-graphic Office to look over + the recent bulletins to masters. + </p> + <p> + The information that the whistling buoy off Duxbury Reef had gone adrift + and that Blunt's Reef Lightship would be withdrawn for fifteen days for + repairs and docking interested him but little, however. In his mind's eye + there loomed the picture of that great red freighter, with her foul + bottom, rusty funnel and unpainted, weather-beaten upper works. + </p> + <p> + “Her bridge is pretty well exposed to the weather,” he murmured. “I'd + build it up so the man on watch could just look over it. I noticed they'd + had the good sense to house over her winches, so I dare say they're in + good shape; her paint will have prevented rust below the water line, and + I'll bet she's as sound as the day she was built. I think I'd paint her + dead black, with red underbody and terra-cotta upper works.” He pondered. + “Yes, and I'd paint her funnel dead black, too, with a broad red band; and + on both sides of the funnel, in the center of this red band, I'd have a + white diamond with a black P in the center of it. By George, they'd know + the Peasley Line as far as they could see it!” + </p> + <p> + He would have dreamed on had he not bethought himself suddenly of his + modest capital—fifty thousand-odd dollars, out of which he owed + Cappy Ricks a considerable sum on a promissory note due in one year. On + such a meager bank balance it would not do to dream of buying a vessel + worth nearly four hundred thousand dollars. Why, it would require twenty + thousand dollars to put her in commission after all these years of + idleness, and she had to have another boiler because she was a hog on + coal; and, in addition, her operating cost would be between nine and ten + thousand dollars a month. + </p> + <p> + Matt shook his head and looked round the great room as though in search of + inspiration. He found it. His wandering glance finally came to rest on + Jerry Dooley's alert countenance. Jerry crooked a finger at him and Matt + strolled over to the desk. + </p> + <p> + “I've been watching you milling the idea round in your head,” said Jerry. + “I saw you reject it. You're crazy! It can be done.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” Matt queried eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Go get an option on her for the lowest price you can get—then form + a syndicate and sell her to them at a higher price; or, if you don't want + to do that, form your syndicate to buy her at the option price, and if you + work it right you can get the job of managing owner. I want to tell you + that two and one-half per cent. commission on her freight earnings would + make a nice income.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder whom I could get into the syndicate?” Matt queried. + </p> + <p> + Jerry scratched his head. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he suggested, “you're mighty close to old Cappy Ricks. If you + could hook him for a piece of her, the rest would be easy. Any shipping + man on the Street will follow where Cappy Ricks leads. I'd try Pollard + & Reilly; Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company; Jack Haviland, + the ship chandler; Charley Beyers, the ship's grocer and butcher; A. B. + Cahill & Co., the coal dealers; Pete Hansen, of the Bulkhead Hotel + down on the Embarcadero—he's always got a couple of thousand dollars + to put into a clean-cut shipping enterprise. Then there's Rickey, the + ship-builder, and—yes, even Alcott, the crimp, will take a piece of + her. I'd look in on Louis Wiley, the chronometer man, and Cox, the + coppersmith—why I'd take in every firm and individual who might hope + to get business out of the ship; and, you bet, I'd sell 'em all a little + block of stock in the S. S. Narcissus Company.” + </p> + <p> + “It might be done,” Matt answered evasively. “I'll think it over.” + </p> + <p> + He did think it over very seriously the greater portion of that night. As + a result, instead of going to his office next morning he went to Mission + Street bulkhead and engaged a launch, and forty minutes later, in response + to his hail, the aged watchman aboard the Narcissus came to the rail and + asked him what he wanted. + </p> + <p> + “I want to come aboard!” Matt shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Got a permit from the office?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Orders are to allow nobody aboard without a permit.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you like the color of this permit?” Matt called back, and waved a + greenback. + </p> + <p> + The answer came in the shape of a Jacob's ladder promptly tossed overside + and Matt Peasley mounted the towering hulk of the Narcissus. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” the watchman again demanded as he pouched the bill + Matt handed him. + </p> + <p> + “I want to examine this vessel from bilge to truck,” Matt answered. “I'll + begin with a look at the winches.” + </p> + <p> + As he had surmised, the winches had been housed over and fairly buried in + grease when the ship laid up; hence they were in absolutely perfect + condition. The engines, too, had received the best of care, as nearly as + Matt could judge from a cursory view. Her cargo space was littered up with + a number of grain chutes, which would have to come out; and her boats, + which had been stored in the empty hold aft, away from the weather, were + in tiptop shape. She had a spare anchor, plenty of chain, wire cable and + Manila lines, though these latter would doubtless have to be renewed in + their entirety, owing to deterioration from age. + </p> + <p> + Her crew quarters were commodious and ample, and the officers' quarters + all that could be desired; her galley equipment was complete, even to a + small auxiliary ice plant. What she needed was cleaning, painting and + scraping, and lots of it, also the riggers would be a few days on her + standing rigging; but, so far as Matt could discern, that was all. From + the watchman he learned that one Terence Reardon had been her chief + engineer in the days when the Oriental Steamship Company first owned her. + </p> + <p> + From the Narcissus, Matt Peasley returned to the city and went at once to + the office of the Marine Engineers' Association, where he made inquiry for + Terence Reardon. It appeared that Terence was chief of the Arab, loading + grain at Port Costa; so to Port Costa Matt Peasley went to interview him. + He found Reardon on deck, enjoying a short pipe and a breath of cool air, + and introduced himself. + </p> + <p> + “I understand you were the chief of the Narcissus at one time, Mr. + Reardon,” Matt began abruptly. “I understand, also, that under your + coaxing you used to get ten miles out of her loaded.” + </p> + <p> + Parenthetically it may be stated that Matt Peasley had never heard + anything of the sort; but he knew the weaknesses of chief engineers and + decided to try a shot in the dark, hoping, by the grace of the devil and + the luck of a sailor, to score a bull's-eye. He succeeded at least in + ringing the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Coax, is it?” murmured Terence Reardon in his deep Kerry brogue. “Faith, + thin, the Narcissus niver laid eye on the day she could do nine an' a half + wit' the kindliest av treatment. Wirrah, but 'tis herself was the glutton + for coal. Sure, whin I'd hand in me report to ould Webb, and he'd see + where she'd averaged forty ton a day, the big tears'd come into the two + eyes av him—the Lord ha' mercy on his sowl!” + </p> + <p> + “You never had any trouble with her engines,” Matt suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I had throuble keepin' shteam enough in the b'ilers to run thim; but I'll + say this for her ingines: Give them a chancet an' they'd run like a + chronometer.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you consider an offer to leave the Arab and be chief of the + Narcissus?” Matt queried. “I'm thinking of buying her, and if I do I'll + give you twenty-five dollars a month above the regular Association scale.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go ye,” murmured Reardon, “on wan condition: Ye'll shpend some money + in her ingine room, else 'tis no matther av use for ye to talk to me. I'll + not be afther breakin' me poor heart for the sake av twenty-five dollars a + month. Sure, 'twould be wort' that alone to see the face av ye, young man, + afther wan look at the coal bill.” + </p> + <p> + “What repairs would you suggest? Do you think she needs another boiler? I + noticed she has two. We could move those two over and make room for + another.” + </p> + <p> + “Do nothing av the sort, sir. Before ould Webb got her she'd been usin' + bad wather down on the East African Coast, I'm thinkin', and it raised + hell wit' her. 'Tis the expinse av retubin' her condensers that always + frightened ould Webb, and whin he lost conthrol the blatherskite booby av + a port ingineer the new owners app'inted come down to the ship, looked her + over, wit' niver a question to me that knew the very sowl av her, and + reported to the owners that what she needed was another b'iler.” And + Terence Reardon laughed the short, mirthless chuckle of the man who knows. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” Matt continued, “the money should be spent—” + </p> + <p> + “In retubing her condensers,” declared the engineer emphatically. “Do that + an' do a good job on her, an' she'll have shteam enough for thim fine big + ingines av hers on thirty-two ton a day, an' less. An' have a care would + ye buy her until she ships a new crank shaft. She's a crack in the web av + the afther crank shaft ye could shtick a knife blade into. She may run for + years, but sooner or later some wan'll have a salvage claim agin ye if ye + neglect it now. An', for the love av heaven, have nothin' to do wit' her + big motor. 'Twas bur-rnt out by him that had her ahead av me—bad + cess to him, whereiver he is! An' they did a poor, cheap job av windin' + the armature agin. Ye'll be in hot wather wit' the electric-light system + until ye put in a new motor. + </p> + <p> + “The rheostat on the searchlight niver was any good; and she may or may + not need a new whistle—I dunno. Sure, the skipper niver blew it good + an' long but the wanst; an', so help me, young man, I was lookin' at the + shteam gauge whin he shtarted that prolonged blast—an' whin he + finished the gauge had dhropped tin pounds! So up I go on the bridge to + the ould man, an' says I to him, says I: 'Clear weather or thick fog, I'm + tellin' ye to lave that whistle alone if ye expect to finish the voyage. + Wan toot out av it means a ton av coal gone to hell an' a dhrop av blood + out av the owner's heart! An' from that time on the best I iver hearrd out + av that whistle was a sick sort av a sob.” + </p> + <p> + Matt laughed as Terence Reardon's natural propensity for romancing came to + the front. He thanked the chief for the latter's invaluable information, + and, with a mental resolve to have Terence Reardon presiding over the + engines of the Narcissus at no distant date, he returned to the city. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0047" id="link2HCH0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVII. THE TAIL GOES WITH THE HIDE + </h2> + <p> + The following morning Matt called upon MacCandless, the general manager of + the Oriental Steamship Company. Mr. MacCandless was a cold individual of + Scotch ancestry, with a scent for a dollar a trifle keener than most; and + Matt Peasley, young and inexperienced in business fencing, was never more + aware of his deficiencies than when he faced MacCandless across the + latter's desk. Consequently, he resolved to waste no words in vain parley. + MacCandless was still looking curiously at Matt's card when the latter + said: + </p> + <p> + “I called with reference to that big freighter of the Oriental Steamship + Company—the Narcissus. Is she for sale?” + </p> + <p> + MacCandless smiled with his lips, but his eyes wore the eternal Show-me! + look. He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Foolish of me to ask, I know,” Matt continued complacently, “since it is + a matter of common gossip that you would have been delighted to have sold + her any time these past eight years.” + </p> + <p> + Since MacCandless did not deny this Matt assumed that it was true and + returned to the attack with renewed vigor. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want for her?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you acting as a broker in this matter or do you represent principals + who have asked you to interview me? In other words, before I talk business + with you I want to know that you mean business. I shall waste no time + discussing a possible trade unless you assure me that you have a customer + in sight. I am weary of brokers. I've had forty of them after that vessel + from time to time, but no business ever resulted.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is not at all surprising, considering the circumstances,” Matt + retorted. “If you cannot use her yourself you mustn't expect other people + to be over-enthusiastic about owning her. However, I think I can find + business for her, and I've come to buy her myself. You seem to think a lot + of your time, so I'll conserve it for you. I'm the principal in this deal, + and if you really want to get rid of her we'll do business in two + minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred thousand dollars,” MacCandless answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” said Matt Peasley. “I have fifty thousand dollars of my own in + bank this minute, but I will have to raise two hundred and fifty thousand + more before I can afford to buy your vessel, even if we agree on that + price, which does not seem probable. I'll give you two hundred and fifty + thousand dollars for the steamer Narcissus; but when you turn her over to + me I want a ship, not a piece of floating junk. You'll have to ship a new + crank shaft, rewind the main motor, renew the Manila lines, overhaul the + standing rigging, retube the condensers and dock her before handing her + over to me. She's as foul as any hulk in Rotten Row.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that will cost in the neighborhood of forty thousand dollars—nearer + fifty!” MacCandless declared. + </p> + <p> + “I know. But for three hundred thousand dollars I can go to Sweden, build + a smaller vessel than the Narcissus, have her right up to date, with + two-thousand-horsepower oil-burning motors in her; and the saving in space + due to motor installation, with oil tanks instead of coal bunkers, will + enable me to carry fully as much cargo as the Narcissus. Also, I'll burn + six tons of crude oil a day to your forty tons of coal a day in the + Narcissus. I'll employ eight men less in my crew, and have a cleaner, + faster and better ship. The motor ship is the freighter of the future, and + you know it. Your Narcissus is out of date, and I'm only offering you two + hundred and fifty thousand dollars because I can use her right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Young man,” said MacCandless, “you talk like a person that means + business, but you overlook the fact that this company is neither bankrupt + nor silly. The directors will, I feel assured, agree to do all the work + you specify, but the price must be three hundred thousand. That will leave + us two hundred and fifty thousand dollars net.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll split the difference with you.” + </p> + <p> + MacCandless shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that ends our argument,” Matt answered pleasantly, and took up his + hat. “You can keep your big white elephant another eight years, Mr. + MacCandless. Perhaps some principal will come along then and make you + another offer; and in the interim you can charge off about one hundred and + fifty thousand dollars interest on the money tied up in the Narcissus. + Fine business—I don't think!” He nodded farewell and started for the + door. + </p> + <p> + “But you say you have but fifty thousand dollars,” MacCandless protested. + </p> + <p> + “I said I'd have to get two hundred and fifty thousand dollars more. Well, + I'll do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite a sum to raise these days,” MacCandless remarked doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you'll give me a sixty-day option on the Narcissus at two + hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars and agree to do the repairs on + her, including dry-docking, cleaning and painting her up to the water + line, I'll take a ten-thousand-dollar chance, Mr. MacCandless, that I can + raise the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean you'll give the Oriental Steamship Company ten thousand + dollars for a sixty-day option?” + </p> + <p> + “I do; and I'll pay for the vessel as I raise the remainder of the money. + Ten thousand dollars down for the option, to apply on the purchase price, + of course, if the deal goes through, and to be forfeited to you if I fail + to make the next payment on time.” + </p> + <p> + “What will the next payment be?” the cautious MacCandless demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty thousand dollars a month, with interest at six per cent. in + deferred payments. You might as well be earning six per cent. on her as + have her rusting holes in her bottom down there in Mission Bay. As she + lies, you're losing at least six per cent. interest on her.” + </p> + <p> + “There's reason in that,” MacCandless answered thoughtfully. “You to + insure the vessel as our interest may appear, bill of sale in escrow; and + if you default for more than thirty days on any payment before we have + received fifty per cent. of the purchase price you lose out and we get our + ship back.” + </p> + <p> + “Sharp business, but I'll take it, Mr. MacCandless. After I've paid half + the money I can mortgage her for the remainder and get out from under your + clutches. Put the buck up to your directors, get their approval to the + option and contract of sale, notify me, and I'll be right up with a + certified check for ten thousand dollars.” And, without giving MacCandless + time to answer, Matt took his departure. + </p> + <p> + “If I talked ten minutes with that man,” he soliloquized, “he'd have the + number of my mess. He'd realize what a piker I was and terminate the + interview. But—I—think he'll meet my terms, because he sees + I'm pretty young and inexperienced, and he figures he'll make ten or + twenty thousand dollars out of me before I discover I'm a rotten promoter. + And, at that, his is better than an even-money bet!” + </p> + <p> + At five o'clock that same day MacCandless telephoned. + </p> + <p> + “I have called a special meeting of our directors, Captain Peasley,” he + announced, “and put your proposition up to them. They have agreed to it, + and if you will be at my office at ten o'clock to-morrow I think we can do + business.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” Matt answered. “I'll be there.” + </p> + <p> + He hung up, reached for a telegraph blank and wrote the following message: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + San Francisco, July 28, 1914. + + Terence Reardon, + Chief Engineer, S. S. Arab, + Port Costa, California. + + Have bought Narcissus. Offer you one hundred seventy-five a + month quit Arab now and supervise installation new crank shaft, + retubing condensers, and so on; permanent job as chief. Do you + accept? Answer immediately. + + PACIFIC SHIPPING COMPANY, + Matthew Peasley, President. +</pre> + <p> + Having dispatched this message, Matt Peasley closed down his desk, + strolled round to the Blue Star Navigation Company's offices, and picked + up his newly acquired father-in-law. On their way home in Cappy's carriage + the old gentleman, apropos of the afternoon press dispatches from Europe, + remarked that the situation abroad was anything but encouraging. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think we'll have a war in Europe?” Matt queried. + </p> + <p> + “Germany seems determined to back up Austria in her demands on Serbia, and + I don't think Serbia will eat quite all of the dish of dirt Francis Joseph + has set before her,” Cappy answered seriously. “Austria seems determined + to make an issue of the assassination of the Archduke Ferdinand and his + wife. If she does, Matt, there'll be the most awful war in history. All + Europe will be fighting.” + </p> + <p> + Matt was silent and thoughtful all the way home, but just before they left + the carriage he turned to Cappy. + </p> + <p> + “If there's war,” he remarked, “England will, doubtless, control the seas + because of her superior navy. German commerce will absolutely cease.” + </p> + <p> + “The submarine will have to be reckoned with, also,” Cappy suggested. + “England's commerce will doubtless be knocked into a cocked hat.” + </p> + <p> + “There'll be a shortage of bottoms, and vessels will be in brisk demand,” + Matt predicted. “There'll be a sharp rise in freight rates on all + commodities the instant war breaks out, and the American mercantile marine + ought to reap a harvest.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” said Cappy acidly, “why speak of the American mercantile + marine? There ain't no such animal.” + </p> + <p> + “There will be—if the war in Europe ever starts,” Matt retorted; + “and, what's more, I'm going to bet there will be war within thirty days.” + </p> + <p> + He did not consider it advisable to mention to Cappy that he was going to + bet ten thousand dollars! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0048" id="link2HCH0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVIII. VICTORY + </h2> + <p> + At ten o'clock the following morning Matt Peasley, accompanied by an + attorney, an expert in maritime law, presented himself at the Oriental + Steamship Company's office. MacCandless and the attorney for his company + were awaiting them, with a tentative form of contract of sale already + drawn up, and after a two-hour discussion on various points the finished + document was finally presented for the signatures of both parties, but + not, however, until Matt Peasley had been forced to do something that + brought out a gentle perspiration on the backs of his sturdy legs. Before + the shrewd MacCandless would consent to begin the work of placing the + vessel in commission, according to agreement, he stipulated a payment of + twenty-five thousand dollars down! He estimated the cost of the docking + and repair work at fifty thousand dollars, and, desiring to play safe, + insisted that Matt Peasley should advance at least fifty per cent. of this + preliminary outlay in cash. + </p> + <p> + Matt thereupon excused himself from the conference on the plea that he had + to consult with others before taking this step. He was gone about fifteen + minutes, during which time he consulted with the “others.” They happened + to be two newsboys selling rival afternoon editions. Matt Peasley did + business with each, and after a quick perusal of both papers, he decided + that war was inevitable and resolved to take the plunge. In no sense of + the word, however, did he believe he was gambling. His conversation with + Terence Reardon had convinced him that the Narcissus was a misunderstood + ship—that she had been poorly managed and was the victim of a false + financial policy. + </p> + <p> + Hence, even though the war should not materialize, he would be making no + mistake in tying her up. She was a bully gamble and a wonderful bargain at + the price; with Terence Reardon presiding over her engines at a salary + twenty-five dollars in excess of the union scale, the orders to keep her + out of the shop would be followed, so far as lay in Terence's power. Even + should he not succeed in financing the enterprise Cappy Ricks would be + glad to take his bargain off his hands—perhaps at a neat profit. + Consequently, Matt went over to his bank, procured an additional certified + check for fifteen thousand dollars and returned to MacCandless' office, + where he signed the contract of sale and paid over his twenty-five + thousand dollars. He trembled a little as he did it. + </p> + <p> + “I'll have the insurance on her placed this afternoon,” MacCandless + suggested as he handed Matt his copy of the sale contract; whereat the + latter came to life with galvanic suddenness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, you'll not, Mr. MacCandless,” he suggested smilingly. “I'll place + that insurance myself. My company has to pay for it, so I'll act as agent + and collect my little old ten per cent. commission. But, passing that, do + you want to know the latest—the very latest news?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind,” MacCandless replied. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's going to be a devil of big war in Europe and I wouldn't + take four hundred thousand dollars for the Narcissus this minute. May I + use your telephone? Thanks!” He called up his office. “Is there a telegram + there for me?” he queried, and on being answered in the affirmative he + directed his stenographer to read it to him. He turned to MacCandless. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Terence Reardon will have entire charge of the work of retubing those + condensers, and so on,” he explained. “I'll give him a letter to you, + which will be his authority to superintend the job. I'm going to New York + tonight, but I think I'll be back in time to accept the vessel when she's + ready for commission.” He looked at his watch. It was just twelve-thirty + o'clock. “The Overland leaves at two-thirty,” he murmured. “I'll have just + time to pack a suit case.” And he picked up his hat and fled with the + celerity and singleness of purpose of a tin-canned dog. + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks woke from his mid-afternoon doze to find his son-in-law + shaking him by the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Well, young man,” Cappy began severely, “so you're back, are you? Give an + account of yourself. Where the devil have you been for the past two weeks? + Why did you go, and why did you have the consummate nerve to leave Florry + behind you? Why, you hadn't been married two months—” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't take her with me, sir,” Matt protested. “I wanted to, but she + would have been in the way. You see, I knew I was going to be busy night + and day.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his swivel chair; with a hand on each + knee he gazed at his smiling son-in-law over the rims of his spectacles. + For fully a minute he remained motionless. + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” he demanded suspiciously, “what the devil have you been up to?” + </p> + <p> + Matt raised a huge forefinger. + </p> + <p> + “Number one,” he began: “I bought the Oriental Steamship Company's + freighter Narcissus, seventy-five hundred tons' register, for two hundred + and seventy-five thousand dollars, and in a month she'll be in tiptop + shape and ready for sea. I've paid twenty-five thousand dollars down on + her and I'll have to make a payment of twenty thousand dollars on the + twenty-sixth of September and twenty thousand dollars a month on her + thereafter until she, is paid for. And if I default on a payment for more + than thirty days before I've paid off half of the purchase price the + Oriental Steamship Company may, at its option, take the vessel away from + me.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he breathed softly. “So you want help, eh? You finally did manage to + get into deep water close to the shore, and now you're yelling to father + to come through and save you, eh? Well, I'll do it, my boy, because I + think you made a bully buy; and she's worth it. I'll take over your + bargain for you and give you, say—er—ahem! we—harumph-h-h—say + twenty-five thousand dollars profit. Not so bad, eh? When I was your age—” + Cappy paused, open-mouthed. He had suddenly remembered something. “Oh, + no,” he contradicted himself; “this isn't my foolish day—not by a + jugful! You owe me a lot of money on that promissory note you gave me when + we settled up for that Tillicum business—so I'll not give you any + money after all. I'll just take the contract of sale off your hands, give + you back the money you risked in the deal—and your promissory note, + cancelled.” And Cappy Ricks sat back and clawed his whiskers expectantly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm not in distress,” Matt answered cheerfully. “On the contrary, I'm + going to take up that note before the week is out.” + </p> + <p> + Once more Cappy slid out to the edge of his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going to get the money?” he demanded bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to sell the Narcissus. The day I purchased her it was a moral + certainty that Europe was to be plunged into a terrible war; so the ink + wasn't dry on the contract before I was streaking it for New York. War was + declared by England on Germany on the fifth of August, and while you'd be + saying Jack Robinson every German freighter went into neutral ports to + intern until the war should terminate. The German raiders are still out + after the British and French commerce, and the deep-water shipping out of + Eastern ports isn't a business any more. It's a delirium—a + night-mare! Why, I was offered any number of charters for my Narcissus, + but I didn't bother trying to charter her until just before I started for + home; and, moreover, the longer I waited the better charter I could make. + Besides, she isn't in commission yet—and I had other fish to fry.” + </p> + <p> + “For instance?” Cappy inquired wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “It is an undisputed fact that the early bird gets the worm,” Matt Peasley + replied brightly, “and I was the early bird. I was in New York a few days + before the war became general, and for a week thereafter everybody was so + blamed interested in the fighting they neglected business. But I didn't. I + went to New York to charter, under the government form, as many big steel + freighters as I could lay hands on—” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks raised his clasped hands and gazed reverently upward. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lord!” he murmured. “How many? How many?” + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen,” Matt Peasley murmured complacently. “I got about half of them + real cheap, because business was rotten when I landed in the East. Why, I + chartered the entire fleet of one shipping firm in Boston. I had to pay a + stiffer rate for the others; but—” + </p> + <p> + “How long did you charter them for?” Cappy yelled. “Quick! Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “All for a year, with the privilege of renewal at a ten per cent. advance. + I had no difficulty in rechartering to the men who had been asleep on the + job. I shall average a profit of two hundred dollars a day on each of the + fifteen even if I do not charter them longer—” + </p> + <p> + “A day!” Cappy's voice rose to a shrill scream. + </p> + <p> + “A day! Any American bottom that will float and move through the water is + worth five times what it was before war was declared, and the freight + rates are going up every day. Three thousand dollars a day income—three + hundred and sixty-five days in the year! Man, if the war lasts a year I'll + make a million dollars net!” + </p> + <p> + “But—but—about this Narcissus?” Cappy sputtered. + </p> + <p> + “Just before I left for home I chartered her at fourteen hundred dollars a + day—forty-two thousand dollars a month—on the Government form + of charter.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” Cappy shrieked, losing all control of himself. “Dog-gone + you, Matt Peasley, don't tell me such stories. You're driving me crazy!” + </p> + <p> + “It will cost me nine thousand a month to run her—and she doesn't + even go near the war zone. I'm going to run her to South American ports.” + </p> + <p> + “How long?” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley smiled. “How long?” he echoed. “Why, she's only chartered for + one trip just now. You don't suppose I'd charter her for several voyages + or for a year, on a freight market that's growing over-night?” + </p> + <p> + “And those fifteen vessels you chartered. You rechartered them. For what + period?” + </p> + <p> + “Three months, with privilege of renewal at the going rates.” + </p> + <p> + “Matt,” Cappy murmured, “you're great. Damn me, sir, I could kiss you.” + </p> + <p> + Matt grinned at this earnest commendation. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I can operate the Narcissus and meet my monthly payments to the + Oriental Steamship Company and still be ahead of the game,” he continued. + “But I'm going to sell her, Mr. Ricks. I've had an offer of four hundred + and fifty thousand dollars for her already—and she's still waiting + to be hauled out on the marine railway and put in commission! I'll just + wait one week and by that time she'll bring half a million. At that I hate + to sell, but I've got to. I figure a bird in the hand is worth two in the + bush.” + </p> + <p> + “Why have you got to?” Cappy shrilled. “You're crazy! You don't have to.” + </p> + <p> + “But the next payment will come due on her before I receive any charter + money from the Steel people, and that will clean me for fair. I can't help + myself. Besides, I've got these other fifteen vessels chartered; I'll have + to have capital—and I've got to have it quickly or I'll be a pauper + while you'd be saying Jack Robinson.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Matt, you old dunderhead, you mustn't sell a good thing. Why, man, + you've got a million and a half profit right in the hollow of your hand; + and, oh, we mustn't let it get away, Matt—we mustn't let it get + away! + </p> + <p> + “It was magnificent, Matt—perfectly magnificent. I'll help you, + sonny. By golly, I'll go to the bat for you and back you for the last + dollar I have. No more monkeyshines between us now, boy! We've had a lot + of fun in our day, playing nip and tuck with each other; but this is real + business. You've got to be saved.” + </p> + <p> + “I had an idea that you would see it in that light, sir,” Matt suggested + smilingly. “I knew you'd back me up; so I didn't worry. But you'll have to + take half the profit on the deals I've made—that's only fair.” + </p> + <p> + “Profits!” Cappy Ricks sneered. “Why, what the devil do I care for + profits? You keep the profits. You and Florry are young and you'll know + how to enjoy them. Why, what do you think I am? A human hog? Let me sit in + the game with you—let me play the game of business with you, son, + down to my last buffalo nickel. I can't take the blamed money with me when + I die, can I? But don't ask me to make any money out of you, my boy. I'm + going to get my fun watching you in action.” + </p> + <p> + Matt Peasley came close and took old Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his. + </p> + <p> + “I want to be your partner,” he said wistfully. “I couldn't come into this + office and sponge off you, and so I've waited until I could buy in! I + wanted to bring some assets besides myself when I should come to manage + the Blue Star. May I, sir? I want to turn in this big deal I've put over + for stock in the Ricks Lumber and Logging Company and the Blue Star + Navigation Company; and, then, with Skinner managing the lumber end, I'll + sit in and run the fleet—and you just sit round and help and offer + advice, Mr. Ricks. Let me turn in the Narcissus for what I have been + offered—four hundred and fifty thousand dollars—and take + stock. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to be an employee; I don't want to be just your son-in-law, + waiting for your shoes. I want to be your partner—to be more than a + cog in the machine. And those freighters I've chartered—why, I could + never have chartered them without your help. Who was I? Would I have had + any credit or standing with those big Eastern shipping firms? Not much! I + represented myself as the general manager of the Blue Star Navigation + Company. And they knew about you—you were rated A-1 in financial + circles.” + </p> + <p> + “You what?” yelled Cappy. “General manager! You infernal duffer, why + didn't you cut the whole hog and call yourself president?” + </p> + <p> + “I had my cards printed to read: Vice President and General Manager,” Matt + replied with a twinkle. “I didn't feel any qualms of conscience about + cutting that much of the hog, because I knew you would make me vice + president and general manager as soon as I got back with the bacon! So I + signed all the charters, 'Blue Star Navigation Company, by Matthew + Peasley, V. P. and G.M.'—drew a raft of sight drafts on you also. + They'll be putting in an appearance in a day or two. I got home just about + two jumps ahead of them.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a devil!” said Cappy Ricks. “But—I'll pay the drafts.” Matt + laughed happily. “You're bringing about a million and a half into the + company—at least, if everything goes well, you will; and you've got + a half interest in what you have brought in,” Cappy continued. + </p> + <p> + He touched a push button. An instant later Mr. Skinner appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, my dear boy,” said Cappy, “Matt has a flock of charters he has + made for us in the East—also, a flock of recharters of the same + boats—also, a contract of sale on the steamer Narcissus. Make out a + form of assignment of that contract from the Pacific Shipping Company to + the Blue Star Navigation Company and Matt will sign it. We'll keep that + boat ourselves. Then give Matt a check for the next payment due that man + MacCandless on the Narcissus and after you've cleaned up with Matt, + Skinner, have Hankins issue him seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars' + worth of stock—half in the Blue Star and half in the Ricks Lumber + & Logging Company. Tell Hankins, also, to call a special meeting of + the board of directors of both companies for ten o'clock tomorrow—and + to be sure to have a quorum present. And in the meantime put the Narcissus + under provisional American registry.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what are you going to do?” Mr. Skinner demanded wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + Cappy walked tip to his general manager and affectionately placed his hand + on Skinner's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Skinner, my dear boy,” he said, “we're going to elect you president of + the lumber company and Matt is to be president of the Navigation Company. + I'm going to resign and be a sort of president emeritus of both companies + and advisory director to both boards. Matt, you might tell Skinner what + your plans are for the Blue Star.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Matt, “I'm going to leave the president emeritus on the job a + few months longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Not by a jugful! I quit tomorrow. Hereafter I'm just scenery. I'm old and + I must give way to youth. I've had my day; I'm out of the running now,” + Cappy answered sadly. + </p> + <p> + “We're going to leave the president emeritus on the job,” Matt repeated, + “while I go to Europe and pick up a couple of big British tramps, under + the provisions of the recent Emergency Shipping Act, and stick 'em under + the American flag. Regardless of what the other fellows may do or think, + the fact is we're American citizens; and we're going to do our duty and + help establish an American mercantile marine. Skinner, we'll make the Blue + Star flag known on the Seven Seas.” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks sprang into the air and got one thin old arm round Matt + Peasley's neck; with the other he groped for Skinner, for there were tears + in his fine old eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What a pair of lads to have round me!” he said huskily. “Matt—Skinner, + my boy—by the Holy Pink-toed Prophet!—we'll do it; not because + we need the money or want it, or give a particular damn to hoard up a heap + of it, but because it's the right thing to do. It's patriotic—it's + American—our activities shall enrich the world—and oh, it's + such a bully game to play!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Skinner glanced at Cappy Ricks with the closest approach to downright + affection he considered quite dignified to permit during business hours. + </p> + <p> + “I notice you were going to quit a minute ago to become president emeritus—and + now you're including yourself in the new program of activity,” he reminded + Cappy Ricks. “I seem to remember that for the past few years you've been + talking of the happy day when you could retire and learn to play golf.” + </p> + <p> + “Golf!” Cappy glanced at Mr. Skinner witheringly. “Skinner,” he continued, + “don't be an ass! Golf is an old man's game—and I belong with the + young fellows. Why, don't you remember the day, three years ago, when we + discovered we had a sailor named Matt Peasley before the mast in the old + Retriever? Why, ever since I've been having so much fun—” + </p> + <p> + “And that reminds me,” Matt interrupted: “We must send a new skipper to + Aberdeen to relieve Mike Murphy in the Retriever. He has his ticket for + steam and I've hired him at two hundred and fifty a month to skipper the + Narcissus. Mike is one of the best men under the Blue Star; he has come up + from before the mast.” + </p> + <p> + “The only kind I ever gave a whoop for,” Cappy declared. “In effect, he + once told me to go chase myself.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Skinner persisted, “how about playing golf?” + </p> + <p> + Cappy Ricks raised his eyes reverently upward. “Please God,” he said, + “I'll die in the harness!” + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” said Mr. Skinner; and Matt Peasely re-echoed the sentiment. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks, by Peter B. 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