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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks Retires, 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 Retires
+       But that doesn't keep him from coming back stronger than ever
+
+Author: Peter B. Kyne
+
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6020]
+This file was first posted on October 19, 2002
+Last Updated: March 12, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPPY RICKS RETIRES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAPPY RICKS RETIRES
+
+_But that doesn't keep him from coming back stronger than ever_
+
+By Peter B. Kyne
+
+
+[Illustration: But, in time, Cappy would find her a rich husband]
+
+
+
+THE ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+But, in time, Cappy would find her a rich husband
+
+_(Excerpt from the log of Capt. Matt Peasley:)_ “I am alone on the
+ship--all the rest are now dead--”
+
+He always shouted when telephoning
+
+“Two million dollars!” cried J. Augustus Redell
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAPPY RICKS RETIRES
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+If you have read previous tales of the Blue Star Navigation Company and
+the various brisk individuals connected therewith, you will recall one
+Michael J. Murphy, who first came to the attention of Cappy Ricks at the
+time he, the said Murphy, was chief kicker of the barkentine _Retriever_
+under Captain Matt Peasley. Subsequently, when Matt Peasley presented
+in his person indubitable evidence of the wisdom of the old saw that
+you cannot keep a good man down, Michael J. became skipper of the
+_Retriever_. This berth he continued to occupy with pleasure and profit
+to all concerned, until a small financial tidal wave, which began with
+Matt Peasley's purchase, at a ridiculously low figure, of the Oriental
+Steamship Company's huge freighter, _Narcissus_, swept the cunning
+Matthew into the presidency of the Blue Star Navigation Company;
+whereupon Matt designed to take Murphy out of the _Retriever_ and have
+him try his hand in steam as master of the _Narcissus_.
+
+The same financial tidal wave had swept Cappy Ricks out of the
+presidency of the Blue Star Navigation Company--presumably far up the
+beach to a place in the sun, where he was to bask for the remainder
+of his old age as president emeritus of all his companies. However, if
+there was one thing about Cappy you could depend upon absolutely it
+was the consistency of his inconsistency. For, having announced his
+retirement, his very next move was to bewail his inability to retire.
+He insisted upon clinging to the business like a barnacle to a ship,
+and was always very much in evidence whenever any deal of the slightest
+importance was about to be consummated. Indeed, he was never so
+thoroughly in command as when, his first burst of enthusiasm anent the
+acquisition of the _Narcissus_ at fifty per cent. of her value having
+passed, he discovered that his son-in-law planned to order Mike
+Murphy off the quarter-deck of the _Retriever_ onto the bridge of the
+_Narcissus_, while an unknown answering to the name of Terence Reardon
+had been selected for her chief engineer.
+
+Cappy listened to Matt Peasley's announcement; then with a propitiatory
+“Ahem! Hum! Harump-h-h-h!” he hitched himself forward in his chair and
+gazed at Matt over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+“Tell me, Matt,” he demanded presently, “who is this man Reardon? I do
+not recall such an engineer in our employ--and I thought I knew them
+all.”
+
+“He is not in our employ, sir. He has been chief engineer of the
+_Arab_ for the past eight years, and prior to that he was chief of the
+_Narcissus_. It was Reardon who told me what ailed her. She's a hog on
+coal, and the Oriental steamship people used to nag him about the fuel
+bills. Their port engineer didn't agree with Reardon as to what was
+wrong with her, so he left. He assures me that if her condensers are
+retubed she'll burn from seven to ten tons of coal less per day.”
+
+“Hum! So you're going to give him the job for telling you something our
+own port engineer would have told us after an examination.”
+
+“No, sir, I'm going to give him the job because he has earned it. He
+gave me some very valuable information about the wretched condition of
+her electric-light plant and a crack, cunningly concealed, in the after
+web of her crank shaft--”
+
+“Oh, by thunder,” piped Cappy, “that's worth knowing! Ship a new crank
+shaft, Matt, and save the Blue Star a salvage bill sooner or later.”
+
+“All that inside information will not only save us money in the future,”
+ Matt continued, “but it enabled me to drive a closer bargain
+when dealing with MacCandless, of the Oriental Steamship Company.
+Consequently Terence Reardon gets the job. He's only making a hundred
+and fifty dollars a month in the _Arab_, and as he is a rattling
+good man--I've looked him up, sir--I've promised him a hundred and
+seventy-five a month in the _Narcissus_.”
+
+“Oh, you've already promised him the job, eh? Mistake, Matt, serious
+mistake. You say you looked him up, but I'll bet you a new hat there is
+one thing about him that you failed to investigate, and that is: What
+kind of Irish is he?”
+
+“Why, regular Irish, of course--mighty good Irish, I should say. Keen,
+observing, not too talkative, a hard worker, temperate in his habits and
+a crackajack engineer to boot.”
+
+Cappy settled back wearily in his chair and favored his youthful partner
+with a glance of tolerant amusement.
+
+“Matt,” he announced, “those are the qualifications we look for in an
+engineer, and it's been my experience that the Irish and the Scotch
+make the best marine engineers in the world. But when you've been in the
+shipping game as long as I have, young man, you'll know better than
+to pick two Irishmen as departmental chiefs in the same ship! I did
+it--once. There was a red-headed scoundrel named Dennis O'Leary who went
+from A.B. to master in the _Florence Ricks_. That fellow was a bulldog.
+He made up his mind he was going to be master of the _Florence_ and
+I couldn't stop him. Good man--damned good! And there was a black
+Irishman, John Rooney, in the _Amelia Ricks_. Had ambitions just like
+O'Leary. He went from oiler to first assistant in the _Amelia_.
+Fine man--damned fine! So fine, in fact, that when the chief of the
+_Florence_ died I shifted Rooney to her immediately. And what was the
+result? Why, riot, of course. Matt, the Irish will fight anybody and
+anything, but they'll fight quicker, with less excuse and greater
+delight, among themselves, than any other nationality! The _Florence
+Ricks_ carried a million feet of lumber, but she wasn't big enough for
+Rooney and O'Leary, so I fired them both, not being desirous of playing
+favorites. Naturally, each blamed the other for the loss of his job, and
+without a word having been spoken they went out on the dock and fought
+the bloodiest draw I have ever seen on the San Francisco waterfront.
+After they had been patched up at the Harbor Hospital, both came and
+cussed me and told me I was an ingrate, so I hired them both back again,
+put them in different ships, slipped each of them a good, cheerful
+Russian Finn, and saved funeral expenses. That's what I got, Matt, for
+not asking those two what kind of Irish they were. Now, then, sonny,
+once more. What kind of Irish is Terence Rearden?”
+
+“Why, I don't know, I tell you. He's just Irish.”
+
+Cappy lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if praying for the great gift of
+patience.
+
+“Listen to the boy,” he demanded of an imaginary bystander. “He doesn't
+know! Well, stick your head down over his engine-room grating some day,
+sing The Boyne Wather--and find out! Now, then, do you happen to know
+what kind of Irish Mike Murphy is? You ought to. You were shipmates with
+him in the _Retriever_ long enough.”
+
+“Oh, Mike's from Galway. He goes to mass on Sunday when he can.”
+
+“Hum! If he's from Galway, where did he leave his brogue? He runs to the
+broad _a_ like an Englishman.”
+
+“That's easily explained. Mike left his brogue in Galway. He came to
+this country when he was six years old and was raised in Boston. That's
+where he picked up his broad _a_.”
+
+“That doesn't help a bit, Matt. He's Irish just the same, and what a
+Yankee like you don't know about the Irish would fill a book. You
+know, Matt, there are a few rare white men that can handle Chinamen
+successfully; now and then you'll run across one that can handle
+niggers; but I have never yet met anybody who could figure the mental
+angles of the Irish except an Irishman. There's something in an Irishman
+that drives him into the bandwagon. He's got to be the boss, and if he
+can't be the boss he'll sit round and criticize. But if I want a man to
+handle Chinamen, or niggers, or Japs, or Bulgarians I'll advertise for
+an Irishman and take the first one that shows up. A young man like you,
+Matt, shouldn't monkey with these people. They're a wonderful race and
+very much misunderstood, and if you don't start 'em right on the job
+you'll always be in trouble. Now, Matt, I've always done the hiring and
+firing for the Blue Star Navigation Company, and as a result I've
+had blamed little of it to do, considering the size of our fleet;
+consequently I'll just give these two Harps the Double-O. Have Murphy
+and Reardon at the office at nine o'clock to-morrow morning and I'll
+read them the riot act before turning them to.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Cappy Ricks was at his office at eight-fifty the following morning.
+At eight-fifty-two Mr. Terence Reardon, plainly uncomfortable in a
+ready-made blue-serge Sunday suit purchased on the Embarcadero for
+twenty-five dollars, came into the office. He was wearing a celluloid
+collar, and a quite noticeable rattle as he shook hands with Cappy
+Ricks betrayed the fact that he also was wearing celluloid cuffs; for,
+notwithstanding the fact that he bathed twice a day, Mr. Reardon's
+Hibernian hide contained much of perspiration, coal dust, metal grit and
+lubricating oil, and such substances can always be washed off celluloid
+collars and cuffs. To his credit be it known that Terence Reardon knew
+his haberdashery was not _au fait_, for his wife never failed to remind
+him of it; but unfortunately he was the possessor of a pair of grimy
+hands that nothing on earth could ever make clean, and even when he
+washed them in benzine they always left black thumb prints on a linen
+collar during the process of adjustment. He had long since surrendered
+to his fate.
+
+At eight-fifty-four Mike Murphy arrived. Murphy was edging up into the
+forties, but still he was young enough at heart to take a keen interest
+in his personal appearance, and a tailor who belonged to Michael's
+council of the Knights of Columbus had decked him out in a suit of
+English tweeds of the latest cut and in most excellent taste.
+
+“Good morning, captain,” Cappy Ricks greeted him. “Ahead of time as
+usual. Meet Mr. Terence Reardon, late chief of the _Arab_. He is to be a
+shipmate of yours--chief of the _Narcissus_, you know.
+
+“Mr. Reardon, shake hands with Captain Mike Murphy. Captain Murphy has
+been in our employ a number of years as master of sail. The _Narcissus_
+will be his first command in steam.”
+
+“Terence Reardon, eh?” echoed Mike Murphy pleasantly. “That sounds like
+a good name. Glad to meet you, chief. What part of the old country are
+you from? The West?”
+
+The wish was father to the thought, since Mike was from the West
+himself.
+
+“I'm from the Nort'--from Belfast,” Mr. Reardon replied in a deep Kerry
+brogue, and extended a grimy paw upon the finger of which Mike Murphy
+observed a gold ring that proclaimed Mr. Terence Reardon--an Irishman,
+presumably a Catholic--one who had risen to the third degree in
+Freemasonry.
+
+Cappy Ricks saw that ring also, and started visibly. A Knight Templar
+himself, Terence Reardon was the last person on earth in whom he
+expected to find a brother Mason. He glanced at Mike Murphy and saw that
+the skipper was looking, not at Mr. Reardon, but at the Masonic emblem.
+
+“Sit down, chief,” Cappy hastened to interrupt. “Have a chair, captain.
+Mr. Reardon, my son-in-law, Captain Peasley here, tells me you were
+chief of the _Narcissus_ when she was on the China run for the Oriental
+Steamship Company.”
+
+Mr. Reardon sat down heavily, set his derby hat on the floor beside him
+and replied briefly: “I was.”
+
+Captain Murphy excused himself and drew Matt Peasley out of the room.
+“God knows,” he whispered hoarsely, “religion should never enter into
+the working of a ship, and I suppose I'll have to get along with that
+fellow; but did you mark the Masonic ring on the paw of the Far-Down?
+And on the right hand, too! The jackass don't know enough to wear it on
+his left hand.”
+
+“Why, what's wrong about being a Mason?” Matt protested. “Cappy's a
+Mason and so am I.”
+
+“Nothing wrong about it--with you and Cappy Ricks. That's your
+privilege. You're Protestants.”
+
+“Well, maybe the chief's a Protestant, too,” Matt suggested, but Mike
+Murphy silenced him with a sardonic smile.
+
+“With that name?” he queried, and laughed the brief, mirthless laugh of
+the man who knows. “And he says he's from Belfast! Man, I could cut that
+Kerry brogue with a belaying pin.”
+
+“Why, Mike,” Matt interrupted, “I never before suspected you were
+intolerant of a shipmate's private convictions. I must say this attitude
+of yours is disturbing.”
+
+“Why, I'm not a bigot,” Murphy protested virtuously. “Who told you
+that?”
+
+“Why, you're a Catholic, and you resent Reardon because he's a
+Protestant.”
+
+“Not a bit of it. You're a Protestant, and don't I love you like a
+brother?”
+
+Matt thought he saw the light. “Oh, I see,” he replied. “It's because
+Reardon is an Irish Protestant.”
+
+“Almost--but not quite. God knows I hate the Orangemen for what they did
+to me and mine, but at least they've been Protestant since the time of
+Henry VIII. But the lad inside there has no business to be a Protestant.
+The Lord intended him for a Catholic--and he knows it. He's a renegade.
+I don't blame you for being a Protestant, Matt. It's none of my
+business.”
+
+Matt Peasley had plumbed the mystery at last. He had been reading a
+good deal in the daily papers about Home Rule for Ireland, the Irish
+Nationalists, the Ulster Volunteers, the Unionists, and so on, and in
+a vague way he had always understood that religious differences were at
+the bottom of it all. He realized now that it was something deeper than
+that--a relic of injustice and oppression; a hostility that had come to
+Mike Murphy as a heritage from his forbears--something he had imbibed at
+his mother's breast and was, for purposes of battle, a more vital issue
+than the interminable argument about the only safe road to heaven.
+
+“I see,” Matt murmured. “Reardon, being Irish, has violated the national
+code of the Irish--”
+
+“You've said it, Matt. They're Tories at heart, every mother's son of
+them.”
+
+“What do you mean--Tories?”
+
+“That they're for England, of course.”
+
+“Well, I don't blame them. So am I. Aren't you, Mike?”
+
+“May God forgive you,” Mike Murphy answered piously. “I am not. I'm for
+their enemies. I'm for anything that's against England. Ireland is not a
+colony. She's a nation. Man, man, you don't understand. Only an Irishman
+can, and he gets it at his mother's or his grandmother's knee--the
+word-of-mouth history of his people, the history that isn't in the
+books! Do you think I can forget? Do you think I want to forget?”
+
+“No,” Matt Peasley replied quietly; “I think you'll have to forget--in
+so far as Terence Reardon is concerned. This is the land of the free and
+the home of the brave, and even when you're outside the three-mile limit
+I want you to remember, Mike, that the good ship _Narcissus_ is under
+the American flag. The _Narcissus_ needs all her space for cargo, Mike.
+There is no room aboard her for a feud. Don't ever poke your nose
+into Terence Reardon's engine-room except on his invitation or for the
+purpose of locating a leak. Treat him with courtesy and do not discuss
+politics or religion when you meet him at table, which will be about the
+only opportunity you two will have to discuss anything; and if Reardon
+wants to talk religion or politics you change your feeding time and
+avoid meeting him. I've taken you out of the old _Retriever,_ Mike,
+where you've been earning a hundred and twenty-five dollars a month, to
+put you in the _Narcissus_ at two hundred and fifty. That is conclusive
+evidence that I'm for you. But Terence Reardon is a crackajack chief
+engineer, and I want you to remember that the Blue Star Navigation
+Company needs him in its business quite as much as it needs Michael J.
+Murphy, and if you two get scrapping I'm not going to take the trouble
+to investigate and place the blame. I'll just call you both up on the
+carpet and make you draw straws to see who quits.”
+
+“Fair enough,” replied the honest Murphy. “If I can't be good I'll be as
+good as I can.”
+
+At that very instant Cappy Ricks was just discovering what kind of Irish
+Mr. Terence Reardon was.
+
+The most innocent remark brought him the information he sought.
+
+“Captain Murphy, whom you have just met, is to be master of the
+_Narcissus,_ chief,” he explained. “He's a splendid fellow personally
+and a most capable navigator, and like you he's Irish. I'm sure you'll
+get along famously together.”
+
+Cappy tried to smile away his apprehension, for a still small voice
+whispered to him and questioned the right of Terence Reardon to call him
+brother.
+
+Mr. Reardon's sole reply to this optimistic prophecy was a noncommittal
+grunt, accompanied by a slight outthrust and uplift of the chin, a
+pursing of the lips and the ghost of a sardonic little smile. Only
+an Irishman can get the right tempo to that grunt--and the tempo is
+everything. In the case of Terence Reardon it said distinctly: “I
+hope you're right, sir, but privately I have my doubts.” However, not
+satisfied with pantomime, Mr. Reardon went a trifle farther--for reasons
+best known to himself. He laved the corner of his mouth with the tip
+of a tobacco-stained tongue and said presently: “I can't say, Misther
+Ricks, that I quite like the cut av that fella's jib.”
+
+That was the Irish of it. A representative of any other race on earth
+would have employed the third person singular when referring to the
+absent Murphy; only an Irishman would have said “that fella,” and only
+a certain kind of Irishman could have managed to inject into such simple
+words such a note of scorn supernal. Cappy Ricks got the message--just
+like that.
+
+“Then stay off his bridge, Reardon,” he warned the chief. “Your job is
+in the engine-room, so even if you and Captain Murphy do not like each
+other, there will be no excuse for friction. The only communication you
+need have with him is through the engine-room telegraph.”
+
+“Then, sor,” Terence Reardon replied respectfully, “I'll take it kindly
+av you to tell him to keep out av me engine-room. I'll have no skipper
+buttin' in on me, tellin' me how to run me engines an' askin' me why
+in this an' that I don't go aisy on the coal. Faith, I've had thim do
+it--the wanst--an' the wanst only. Begorra, I'd have brained thim wit' a
+monkey wrench if they tried it a second time.”
+
+“On the other hand,” Cappy remarked, “I've had to fire more than one
+chief engineer who couldn't cure himself of a habit of coming up on the
+bridge when the vessel got to port--to tell the skipper how to berth
+his ship against a strong flood tide. I suppose that while we have
+steamships the skippers will always wonder how the vessel can possibly
+make steerage way, considering the chief engineers, while the chiefs
+will never cease marvelling that such fine ships should be entrusted to
+a lot of Johnny Know-Nothings. However, Reardon, I might as well tell
+you that the Blue Star Navigation Company plays no favorites. When the
+chief and the skipper begin to interfere with the dividends, they look
+overside some bright day and see Alden P. Ricks waiting for them on the
+cap of the wharf. And when the ship is alongside, the said Ricks comes
+aboard with five bones in his pocket, and the said skipper and the said
+chief are invited into the dining saloon to roll the said bones--one
+flop and high man out. Yes, sir. Out! Out of the ship and out of the
+Blue Star employ--for ever.”
+
+“I hear you, sor. I hearrd you the first time,” Terence Reardon replied
+complacently and reached for his pipe. “All I ask from you is a square
+deal. I'll have it from the captain wit'out the askin'.”
+
+Thus the Reardon breathing his defiance.
+
+“I'm glad we understand each other, chief. Just avoid arguments,
+political or religious, and treat the skipper with courtesy. Then you'll
+get along all right. Now with reference to your salary. The union scale
+is one hundred and fifty dollars a month--”
+
+“Beggin' yer pardon for the intherruption, sor, but the young man
+promised me a hundhred an' siventy-five.”
+
+“That was before the Blue Star Navigation Company took over the young
+man and his ship _Narcissus._ Hereafter you'll deal with the old man in
+such matters. I'm going to give you two hundred a month, Reardon, and
+you are to keep the _Narcissus_ out of the shop. Hear me, chief--out of
+the shop.”
+
+“No man can ordher me to do me djooty,” said Terence Reardon simply.
+“Tell the fine gintleman on the bridge to keep her out av the kelp, an'
+faith, she'll shtay out av the shop. Thank you kindly, sor. When do I go
+to wurrk?”
+
+“Your pay started this morning. The _Narcissus_ goes on Christy's ways
+in Oakland Harbor at the tip of the flood this afternoon. Get on the
+ship and stay on her. It's a day-and-night rush job to get her in
+commission, and you'll be paid time and a half while she's repairing.
+Good-day and good luck to you, chief. Come in and see me whenever you
+get to port.” And Cappy Ricks, most democratic of men, extended his hand
+to his newest employee. Terence Reardon took it in his huge paw that
+would never be clean any more, and held it for a moment, the while he
+looked fearlessly into Cappy's eyes.
+
+“'Tis a proud man I am to wurrk for you, sor,” he said simply. “Tip-top
+serrvice for tip-top pay, an' by the Great Gun av Athlone, you'll get it
+from me, sor. If ever the ship is lost 'twill be no fault of mine.”
+
+Mr. Reardon's manner, as he thus calmly exculpated himself from the
+penalty for future disaster, indicated quite clearly that Cappy Ricks,
+in such a contingency, might look to the man higher up--on the bridge,
+for instance.
+
+When Terence Reardon had departed Cappy Ricks called Mike Murphy into
+the room.
+
+“Now, captain,” he began, “there are a few things I want to tell you.
+This man Reardon is a fine, loyal fellow, but he's touchy--”
+
+“I know all about him,” Murphy interrupted with a slight emphasis on the
+pronoun. Unlike Mr. Reardon he employed the third person singular and
+did not say “that fella,” for he had been raised in the United States of
+America.
+
+“I have already given the captain his instructions,” Matt Peasley
+announced. “He understands the situation perfectly and will conduct
+himself accordingly.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+A small army of men swarmed over, under and through the huge _Narcissus_
+for the next three weeks, and the hearts of Cappy Ricks and Matt Peasley
+were like to burst with pride as they stood on the bridge with Captain
+Mike Murphy, while he ran the vessel over the measured course to test
+her speed, and swung her in the bay while adjusting her compass. She
+was as beautiful as money and paint could make her, and when Terence
+Reardon, in calm disregard of orders, came up on the bridge to announce
+his unbounded faith in the rejuvenated condensers and to predict a
+modest coal bill for the future, Mike Murphy so far forgot himself as
+to order the steward to bring up a bottle of something and begged
+Mr. Reardon to join him in three fingers of nepenthe to celebrate the
+occasion.
+
+“T'ank you, sor, but I never dhrink--on djooty,” Mr. Reardon retorted
+with chill politeness, “nor,” he added, “wit' me immejiate superiors.”
+
+A superficial analysis of this remark will convince the most sceptical
+that Mr. Reardon, with true Hibernian adroitness, had managed to convey
+an insult without seeming to convey it.
+
+“Isn't that a pity!” the skipper replied. “We'll excuse you to attend
+to your duty, Mr. Reardon;” and he bowed the chief toward the companion
+leading to the boat deck. The latter departed, furious, with an
+uncomfortable feeling of having been out-generaled; and once a good
+Irishman and true has undergone that humiliation it is a safe bet that
+the Dove of Peace has lost her tail feathers.
+
+“That's an unmannerly chief engineer,” Mike Murphy announced blandly,
+“but for all that he's not without his good points. He'll not waste
+money in his department.”
+
+“A virtue which I trust you will imitate in yours, captain,” Cappy Ricks
+snapped dryly. “Is Reardon working short-handed?”
+
+“Only while we're loading, when he'll need just enough men to keep steam
+up in the winches. When we go to sea, however, he'll have a full crew,
+but the fun of it is they'll be non-union men with the exception of
+the engineers and officers. The engineers will all belong to the Marine
+Engineers' Association and the mates to Harbor 15, Masters' and Pilots'
+Association.”
+
+“He'll do nothing of the sort,” Matt Peasley declared quietly. “We have
+union crews in all our other steamers, and the unions will declare a
+strike on us if we put non-union men in the _Narcissus_.”
+
+“Of course--if they find out. But they'll not. Besides, we're going to
+the Atlantic Coast, so why should we bring a high-priced crew into a
+low-priced market, Mr. Ricks? Leave it to me, sir. I'll load the ship
+with longshoremen entirely, and we'll sail with the crew of that German
+liner that came a few days ago to intern in Richardson's Bay until the
+European war is over.”
+
+“I'm not partial to the German cause,” Matt Peasley announced. “So I'll
+just veto that plan right now, Mike.”
+
+“Matt, we're neutral,” Cappy declared.
+
+“And it pays to ship those Germans, Matt,” Murphy continued. “I confess
+I'm for the Germans, although not to such an extent that I'd go round
+offering them jobs just because they _are_ Germans. But the minute I
+heard about that interned boat I said to myself: 'Now, here's a chance
+to save the _Narcissus_ some money. The crew of that liner will all be
+discharged now that she is interned. However, the local unions will not
+admit them to membership and they cannot work on any Pacific Coast
+boat unless they hold union cards. Consequently they must seek other
+occupations, and as the chances are these fellows do not speak English,
+they're up against it. Also, they are foreigners who have paid no head
+tax when coming into the country, because they are seamen. They have
+the right to land and stay ashore three months, if they state that it is
+their intention to ship out again within that period; but if they do not
+so ship, then the immigration authorities may deport them as paupers
+or for failure to pay the head tax; and in that event they will all be
+returned to the vessel that brought them here, and the owners of the
+vessel will be forced to intern them and care for them.' Under the
+circumstances, therefore, I concluded they would jump at a job in an
+American vessel, for the reason that under the American flag they would
+be reasonably safe; and even if the _Narcissus_ should be searched by
+a British cruiser, she would not dare take these Germans off her.
+Remember, we had a war with England once for boarding our ships and
+removing seamen!”
+
+“By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,” said Cappy Ricks, “there's something in
+that, Matt.”
+
+“There's a splendid saving in the pay roll, let me tell you,” the proud
+Murphy continued. “I took the matter up at once with the German skipper
+and he fixed it for me, and mighty glad he was to get his countrymen off
+his hands. We get all that liner's coal passers, oilers, firemen, six
+deckhands and four quartermasters at the scale of wages prevailing in
+Hamburg. I know what it is in marks, but I haven't figured it out in
+dollars and cents, although whatever it is it's a scandal! It almost
+cuts our pay roll in half.”
+
+“Do you speak German, captain?” Cappy queried excitedly.
+
+“I do not, sir--more's the pity. But the four quartermasters speak fair
+English, and I have engaged two good German-American mates who speak
+German. Reardon has shipped German-American engineers and some of his
+coal passers and firemen speak fair English. I've got two Native Son
+Chinamen in the galley and a Cockney steward. We'll get along.”
+
+“And a rattling fine idea, too,” Cappy Ricks declared warmly. “Mike, my
+boy, you're a wonder. That's the spirit. Always keep down the overhead,
+Matt. That's what eats up the dividends.”
+
+“Well, I wouldn't agree to it if the _Narcissus_ wasn't going to be
+engaged in neutral trade, or if she was carrying munitions of war to the
+Allies,” Matt declared. “I'd be afraid some of Mike's Germans might blow
+up the ship.”
+
+“Believe me,” quoth Michael J. Murphy, “if she was engaged in freighting
+munitions to England, it'd be a smart German that would get a chance to
+blow her up. I think I'd scuttle her myself first.”
+
+“Well, Mike, if your courage failed you,” Cappy Ricks replied
+laughingly, “I think we could safely leave the job to Terence Reardon.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+On that first voyage the _Narcissus_ carried general cargo to northern
+ports on the West Coast. Then she dropped down to a nitrate port and
+loaded nitrate for New York, and about the time she passed through the
+Panama Canal the Blue Star Navigation Company wired its New York agent
+to provide some neutral business for her next voyage. Freights were
+soaring by this time, due to the scarcity of the foreign bottoms which
+formerly had carried Uncle Sam's goods to market, and Cappy Ricks and
+Matt Peasley knew the rates would increase from day to day, and that
+in consequence their New York agents would experience not the slightest
+difficulty in placing her--hence they delayed as long as they could
+placing her on the market.
+
+On the other hand, the New York agents, realizing that higher freight
+rates meant a correspondingly higher commission for them on the charter,
+held off until the _Narcissus_ had almost finished discharging at
+Hoboken before they closed with a fine old New York importing and
+exporting house for a cargo of soft coal from Norfolk, Virginia, to
+Manila, or Batavia. The charterers were undecided which of these two
+cities would be the port of discharge, and stipulated that the vessel
+was to call at Pernambuco, Brazil, for orders. The New York agents
+marvelled at this for--to them--very obvious reasons; but inasmuch as
+the charterers had offered a whopping freight rate and declined to do
+business on any other basis, and since further the agent concluded it
+was no part of his office to question the motives of a house that never
+before had been subjected to suspicion, he concluded to protect himself
+by leaving the decision to the owners of the _Narcissus_. Accordingly he
+wired them as follows:
+
+“Blue Star Navigation Company,
+
+“258 California St., San Francisco, Cal.
+
+“Have offer _Narcissus_, coal Norfolk Batavia or Manila, charterers
+undecided, Pernambuco for orders, ten dollars per ton. Shall we close?
+Answer.
+
+“SEABORN”
+
+2 boards, 1” x 8” and up, and too great a percentage of 4” x 6”-20' No.
+1 clear. And there were mighty few clear twenty-foot logs coming into
+the boom these days.
+
+“Well, will a cat eat liver?” declared Cappy Ricks. “I should say we do
+accept. Why, man, she'll make forty thousand dollars on the voyage,
+and whether she goes to Batavia or Manila, we're certain to get a cargo
+back.”
+
+“All right, I'll wire acceptance,” Skinner replied, and paused long
+enough to make a notation on the message: “O.K.--Ricks.” Mr. Skinner
+meant nothing in particular by that. He was a model of efficiency, and
+that was his little way of placing the responsibility for the decision
+in the event that the wisdom of said decision should, at some future
+time, be questioned. Mr. Skinner never took unnecessary chances. He
+always played a safe game.
+
+It is necessary to state here also that Matt Peasley was not in the
+office when that telegram arrived from Seaborn & Company. If he had been
+this story would never have been written. He was down at Hunter's Point
+drydock, superintending the repairs to the steam schooner Amelia Ricks,
+which recently on a voyage to Seattle had essayed the overland route via
+Duxbury Reef. When Matt reached home that night he found his ingenious
+father-in-law fairly purring with contentment.
+
+“Well, Matt, old horse,” Cappy piped, “I've chartered the Narcissus.
+Norfolk to Batavia or Manila with coal. Got a glorious price--ten
+dollars a ton. That's what we get for holding off until the last
+minute.”
+
+“That's encouraging,” Matt answered pleasantly, and asked no further
+questions. He was obsessed with the engines of the _Amelia Ricks_. It
+was going to cost a lot of money to put them in condition again, and
+he remarked as much to Cappy. Thus it happened that they entered into
+a discussion of other matters, and the good ship _Narcissus_, having
+finished discharging her cargo of nitrate, dropped down to Norfolk,
+where Captain Michael J. Murphy proceeded to let a stream of coal into
+her at a rate that promised to load her fully in less than four days.
+
+It is worthy of remark, at this juncture, that Mike Murphy and
+Terence Reardon had, by this time, cast aside all appearance of
+even shirt-sleeve diplomacy. Diplomatic relations had, in fact, been
+completely severed. Crossing the Gulf Stream, Murphy had called the
+engine-room on the speaking-tube and politely queried if Mr. Reardon
+didn't think he could get a few more revolutions out of her. To this Mr.
+Reardon had replied passionately that if such a thing were possible he
+would have done it long ago without waiting to be told. He desired to
+inform Captain Murphy that he knew his business; whereupon Murphy
+had replied that he never would have guessed Mr. Reardon was that
+intelligent, judging by the face of him. In disgust Mr. Reardon had
+replied: “Aw, go to--” and then tried to close the speaking-tube before
+the captain would have the opportunity to retort. However, Michael J.
+knew his own mind, and, like all the Irish, was a marvel at repartee.
+Quick as was Terence Reardon, therefore, Michael J. Murphy was quicker.
+Perhaps all of his message had not been delivered before Reardon closed
+the tube, but the chief got enough of it for all practical purposes.
+
+He caught one word--“Renegade”; a word so terrible that it left the
+chief engineer speechless with fury, and before he could call the
+skipper a baboon, the golden opportunity was gone. He closed the tube
+with a sigh.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+While the _Narcissus_ was loading, the Fates were keeping in reserve for
+Cappy Ricks, Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner a blow that was to stun them
+when it fell. About the time the _Narcissus_, fully loaded, was snoring
+out to sea past Old Point Comfort, Matt Peasley came across Seaborn &
+Company's telegram in the unanswered-correspondence tray on his desk.
+Five times he read it; and then, in the language of the poet, hell began
+to pop!
+
+Cappy Ricks came out of a gentle doze to find his big son-in-law waving
+the telegram under his nose.
+
+“Why didn't you tell me?” Matt Peasley bawled, for all the world as if
+Cappy was a very stupid mate and all the canvas had just been blown out
+of the bolt-ropes.
+
+“Why didn't you ask me, you big stiff?” shrilled Cappy. He didn't know
+what was coming, but instinct told him it was awful, so he resolved
+instantly to meet it with a brave front. “Don't you yell at me, young
+feller. Now then, what do you want to find out?”
+
+“Why didn't you tell me the _Narcissus_ was to drop in at Pernambuco for
+orders?” roared Matt wrathfully.
+
+Cappy pursed his lips and calmly rang for Mr. Skinner. He eyed the
+general manager over the rims of his spectacles for fully thirty
+seconds. Then:
+
+“Skinner, what the devil's wrong with you of late? It's getting so I
+can't trust you to do anything any more. Tut, tut! Not a peep out of
+you, sir. Now then, answer me: Why didn't you tell me, Skinner, that the
+_Narcissus_ was to call in at Pernambuco for orders?”
+
+“I read you the telegram, sir,” Mr. Skinner replied coldly, and pointed
+to the notation: “O.K.--Ricks,” the badge of his infernal efficiency. “I
+read that telegram to you, sir,” he repeated, “and asked you if I should
+close. You said to close. I closed. That's all I know about it. You and
+Matt are in charge of the shipping and I decline to be dragged into any
+disputes originating in your department. All I have to say is that if
+you two can't run the shipping end and run it right, just turn it over
+to me and I'll run it--right!”
+
+Completely vindicated, Mr. Skinner struck a distinctly defiant attitude
+and awaited the next move on the part of Cappy. The latter,
+thoroughly crushed--for he knew the devilish Skinner never made any
+mistakes--looked up at his son-in-law.
+
+“Well,” he demanded, “what's your grouch against Pernambuco?”
+
+“Forgive me for bawling you out that way,” Matt replied, “but I guess
+you'd bawl, too, if somebody who should have known better had placed a
+fine ship in jeopardy for you. It just breaks me all up to think you
+may have lost my steamer _Narcissus_--the first steamer I ever owned
+too--and to be lost on her second voyage under the Blue Star flag--”
+
+“Our _Narcissus_, if you please,” Cappy shrilled. “You gibbering
+jackdaw! Out with it! Where do you get that stuff--lose your steamer on
+her second voyage! Why, she's snug in Norfolk this minute.”
+
+“If she only is,” Matt almost wailed, “she'll never be permitted to
+clear with that German crew aboard. Pernambuco for orders! Suffering
+sailor! And you, of all men, to put over a charter like that!
+Pernambuco! Pernambuco! Pernambuco--for--orders! Do you get it?”
+
+“No, I don't. It's over my head and into the bleachers.”
+
+“I must say, my dear Matt,” Mr. Skinner struck in blandly, “that I also
+fail to apprehend.”
+
+“Didn't you two ever go to school?” Matt raved. “Didn't you ever study
+geography? Why under the canopy should we waste our time and burn up our
+good coal steaming to Pernambuco, Brazil, South America, for orders?
+Let me put it to you two in words of one syllable: The _Narcissus_ is
+chartered to carry a cargo of coal from Norfolk, Virginia, to Batavia
+or Manila. At the time of charter--and sailing--the charterers are
+undecided which port she is to discharge at, so they ask us to step
+over to Pernambuco and find out. Now, whether the vessel discharges at
+Batavia or Manila, her course in the Atlantic Ocean while en route to
+either port is identical! She passes round the Cape of Good Hope, which
+is at the extreme south end of Africa. If her course, on the contrary,
+was round Cape Horn or through the Straits of Magellan there might be
+some sense in sending her over to the east coast of South America
+for orders. But whether she is ordered to Manila or Batavia, the fact
+remains that she must put in to Durban, South Africa, for fuel to
+continue her voyage; so why in the name of the Flying Dutchman
+couldn't the charterers cable the orders to Mike Murphy at Durban?
+The _Narcissus_ is worth a thousand dollars a day, so you waste a few
+thousand dollars worth of her time, at the very least, sending her to
+Pernambuco when a ten-dollar cablegram to Durban would have done the
+business! I suppose all you two brilliant shipping men could see was a
+ten-dollar-a-ton freight rate. Eh? You--landlubbers! A-a-g-r-r-h! I was
+never so angry since the day I was born.”
+
+While Matt ranted on, Mr. Skinner's classic features had been slowly
+taking on the general color tones of a ripe old Edam cheese, while at
+the conclusion of Matt's oration Cappy Ricks' eyes were sticking out
+like twin semaphores. He clasped his hands.
+
+“By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!” he murmured in an awed voice. “There's
+a nigger in the woodpile.”
+
+“I very greatly fear,” Mr. Skinner chattered, “that you are mistaken,
+Mr. Ricks. Something tells me it's a German!”
+
+“Well, well, well!” Matt Peasley sneered. “Skinner, take the head of the
+class. Really, I believe I begin to pick up signs of human intelligence
+in this sea of maritime ignorance.”
+
+“Oh, Matt, quit your jawing and break the news to me quickly,” Cappy
+pleaded.
+
+“Haven't you been reading the papers, sir? Australian and Japanese
+warships have been hunting for the German Pacific fleet for the past few
+weeks, and the Germans have been on the dodge. Therefore, they've
+been burning coal. They are only allowed to remain in a neutral port
+twenty-four hours, and can only take on sufficient coal and stores to
+enable them to reach the nearest German port. Consequently, since they
+have been afraid to enter a neutral port, for fear of giving away their
+position, it follows that they've had to stay at sea--and naturally they
+have run short of coal. A few steamers have cleared from San Francisco
+with coal, ostensibly for discharge at Chilean or Mexican ports, but in
+reality for delivery to the German fleet at sea, but even with these few
+deliveries, there is a coal famine. And now that the Pacific is getting
+too hot for it, the general impression is that the German fleet will try
+to get through the Straits of Magellan, for, once in the Atlantic, coal
+will be easier to get. More ships, you know; more ship-owners willing
+to take a chance for wartime profits--and they say Brazil is rather
+friendly to the German cause. We will assume, therefore, that the German
+secret agents in this country realize it is inevitable that Von Spee's
+fleet must be forced into the Atlantic; hence, in anticipation of that
+extremity, they are arranging for the delivery of coal to those harassed
+cruisers. The agent in Pernambuco is probably in constant communication
+with the fleet by wireless; the fleet will probably come ranging up
+the coast of South America, destroying British commerce, or some of the
+ships may cross over to the Indian Ocean and join the _Emden_,
+raiding in those waters. So the German secret agents charter our huge
+_Narcissus_, load her with ten thousand tons of coal--”
+
+Matt Peasley paused and bent a beetling glance, first at Cappy Ricks and
+then at Skinner.
+
+“Was she to carry soft coal or anthracite?” he demanded.
+
+“I don't know,” Mr. Skinner quavered.
+
+“Search me!” Cappy Ricks piped up sourly.
+
+“I thought so. For the sake of argument we'll assume it's soft coal,
+because anthracite has not as yet become popular as steamship fuel.
+Well, we will assume our vessel gets to Pernambuco. If, in the meantime,
+the German admiral wirelesses his Pernambuco agent, 'Send a jag of coal
+into the Indian Ocean,' to the Indian Ocean goes the _Narcissus_, and
+presently she finds a German warship or two or three ranging along in
+her course. They pick her up, help themselves to her coal, give Mike
+Murphy a certificate of confiscation for her cargo, to be handed to the
+owners, who in this case will be good, loyal sons of the Fatherland and
+offer no objection--”
+
+“I see,” Cappy Ricks interrupted. “And if, on the other hand, the German
+admiral says, 'Send a jag of coal to meet us in a certain latitude and
+longitude off the River Plate,' and Mike Murphy objects, that German
+crew on our _Narcissus_ will just naturally lock Mike Murphy up in his
+cabin and take the vessel away from him! When they're through with her
+they'll give her back--”
+
+“I'm not so certain they'll have to lock him up in his cabin in order
+to get the ship,” Mr. Skinner struck in, a note of alarm in his voice.
+“Mike Murphy is so pro-German--”
+
+“Ow! Wow! That hurts,” Cappy wailed. “So he is! I never thought of that.
+And now that you speak of it, I recall it was his idea, getting that
+crew of Germans aboard! He said it would cut down expenses. Holy
+mackerel, Matt; do you think it was a frameup?”
+
+“Certainly I do, but--Mike Murphy wasn't in on it. You can bank on that.
+No piratical foreigner will ever climb up on Mike Murphy's deck except
+over Mike Murphy's dead body. According to the president emeritus there
+is more than one kind of Irish, but I'll guarantee Mike Murphy isn't the
+double-crossing kind.”
+
+A boy entered with a telegram. It was a day letter filed by Mike Murphy
+in Norfolk that morning, and Matt Peasley read it aloud:
+
+“Sailing at noon. Regret your failure take me into your confidence when
+deciding withdraw vessel from neutral trade. If orders send me to either
+of ports named in charter party and I am overhauled _en route_, that is
+your funeral. If orders conflict with charter party, as I suspect they
+may, that may be my funeral. Regretfully I shall resign at Pernambuco.
+You know your own business, and I cannot believe you would go it blind;
+if you change your mind before arrival Pernambuco, cable care American
+Consul and will do my best for you.
+
+“M. J. M.”
+
+Gappy Ricks sprang into the air and tried to crack his aged ankles
+together.
+
+“Saved!” he croaked. “By the Holy Pink-toed Prophet! Saved! Bully for
+Mike Murphy! Say, when that fellow gets back, if I don't do something
+handsome for him--”
+
+Matt Peasley's scowls had been replaced by smiles.
+
+“God bless his old Mickedonian heart!” he said fervently. “He thinks
+the coal is for that British fleet reported to be _en route_ across
+the Atlantic to give battle to the German Pacific fleet; or for Admiral
+Craddock's Pacific fleet in case the Germans chase it back into the
+Atlantic. He knows that we know he is pro-German and for anything that's
+against England--and if he makes up his mind the coal is for the British
+fleet he'll resign before delivering it! By Judas, this would be funny
+if it wasn't so blamed serious.”
+
+“To be forewarned is to be forearmed,” Mr. Skinner quoted sagely. “It is
+most fortunate for us that Murphy's suspicions do us a grave injustice.
+We know now that he will call on the American consul at Pernambuco and
+ask for a cablegram.”
+
+“Yes, and by thunder! we'll send it,” Cappy declared joyously. “Cable
+him, Skinner, to fire that German crew so fast one might play checkers
+on their coat tails as they go overside.”
+
+“I wish to heaven I could wireless him to put back to New York and ship
+a new crew,” Matt Peasley mourned. “There's just a possibility that
+German crew of his may take over the ship on the high seas and not put
+into Pernambuco at all!”
+
+“We can only wait and pray,” said Mr. Skinner piously.
+
+Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair and, pop-eyed with horror,
+gazed at his son-in-law over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+“Matt,” he declared, “you're as cheerful as a funeral. Here we have this
+thing all settled, and you have to go to work and rip the silver lining
+out of our cloud of contentment. And the worst of it is, by golly, I
+think there's something in that theory of yours after all.”
+
+“We should always be prepared to meet the worst, Mr. Ricks,” Mr.
+Skinner admonished the president emeritus. “While piracy as a practice
+practically perished prior to the--”
+
+“Skinner! In the fiend's name, spare us this alliteration and humbug,”
+ Cappy fairly shrieked. “You're driving me crazy. If it isn't platitude,
+it's your dog-gone habit of initialing things!” He placed his old elbows
+on his knees and bowed his head in his hands. “If I'm not the original
+Mr. Tight Wad!” he lamented. “But you must forgive me, Matt. I got in
+the habit of thinking of expense when I was young, and I've never gotten
+over it. You know how a habit gets a grip on a man, don't you, Matt? Oh,
+if you had only overruled me when I decided to save money by cutting
+out the wireless on the _Narcissus!_ I remember now you wanted it, and
+I said: 'Well, what's the use? The _Narcissus_ hasn't any passenger
+license and she doesn't have to have wireless--so why do something we
+don't have to do?' Skinner, you should have known enough--”
+
+“I am managing the lumber end of the business, Mr. Ricks,” Skinner
+retorted icily.
+
+“Never mind what you're managing. You're my balance wheel. I've raised
+you for that very purpose. I've been twenty-five years breaking you in
+to your job of relieving me of my business worries--and you don't do it.
+No, you don't, Skinner. Don't deny it, now. You don't. I pay you to
+boss me, but do you do it? No, sir. You let me have my own way--when
+I'm round you're afraid to say your soul's your own. You two boys know
+blamed well I'm an old man and that an old man will make mistakes. It
+is your duty to watch me. I pay the money, but I don't get the service.
+When Matt argued with me about the wireless you sided in with me,
+Skinner. You've got that infernal saving habit, too--drat you! Don't
+deny it, Skinner. I can see by the look in your eye you're fixing to
+contradict me. You're as miserable a miser as I am--afraid to spend five
+cents and play safe--you penurious--er--er--fellow! Skinner, if you ever
+forget yourself long enough to give three hoots in hell you'll want one
+of them back. See now what your niggardly policy has done for us? At a
+time when we'd hock our immortal souls for a wireless to talk to Mike
+Murphy and tell him things, where are we?” Cappy snapped his fingers.
+“Up Salt Creek--without a paddle!”
+
+“Come, come,” Matt said soothingly, “As Skinner says, we can only wait
+and pray--”
+
+“All right. You two do the praying. I'm going to sit here and cuss.”
+
+“Well, we'll hope for the best, Mr. Ricks. No more crying over spilled
+milk now. I'll figure out when the _Narcissus_ is due at Pernambuco and
+cable Mike to let his crew go. And you know, sir, even if he should
+not receive our cablegram, we have still one hope left. True, it is a
+forlorn one, but it's worth a small bet. The crew of the _Narcissus_ is
+not all German. There are--”
+
+“Two pro-German Irishmen, two disinterested Native Son Chinamen and a
+little runt of a Cockney steward,” Cappy sneered. “And she carries a
+crew of forty, all told. Matt, those odds are too long for any bet
+of mine. Besides, Reardon and Murphy hate each other. A house divided
+against itself, you know--”
+
+“They might bang each other all over the main deck,” Matt replied
+musingly, “but I'll bet they'll fight side by side for the ship. Of
+course we haven't known Terence Reardon very long; he may be a bad one
+after all; but Mike Murphy will go far. He's as cunning as a pet fox,
+and he may make up in strategy what he lacks in numbers.”
+
+“The Irish are so filled with blarney--” Skinner began, but Cappy cut
+him short with a terrible look.
+
+“There goes some more of our silver lining,” he rasped. “Skinner, what
+are you? A kill-joy? Now, just for that, I'm going to agree with Matt. A
+man has got to believe something in this world or go crazy, and I prefer
+to believe that the ship is safe with those two Hibernians aboard--win,
+lose or draw. And I want you two to quit picking on me; I don't want the
+word '_Narcissus_' mentioned in my presence until the ship is reported
+confiscated by the British, if her coal is for the Germans, or by the
+Germans, if her coal is for the British--which it isn't--or until Mike
+Murphy reports at Manila or Batavia and cables us for orders.”
+
+“I'm with you there, sir,” Matt Peasley declared. “I'm going to bank
+on the Irish, and refuse to believe it possible for the _Nar_--for a
+certain vessel flying our house-flag to be caught by the wrong warship,
+a couple of thousand miles off her course and with coal, or evidences of
+coal, in her cargo space. Buck up, Skinner. A little Christian Science
+here, boy. Just make up your mind no man in authority is going to come
+over the rail of the--of a certain vessel--and ask Mike Murphy or his
+successor _pro tem._, for a look at his papers!”
+
+“If she ever is confiscated on an illegal errand,” Skinner mourned, “and
+Mike Murphy has nothing more tangible than a dime-novel tale of coercion
+as an excuse for being in that latitude and longitude--well, we'll never
+get our bully big ship back again!”
+
+And for the first time in his life the efficient Mr. Skinner so far
+forgot himself as to swear in the office!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Throughout the long, lazy days that the _Narcissus_ rolled into the
+South, Captain Michael J. Murphy's alert brain was busy every spare
+moment, striving to discover, in the incomprehensible charter his owners
+had made for him, what the French call _la raison d'etre._ Not having
+any wireless, he was unable to keep in touch with the stirring events
+being enacted in Europe and on the high seas, as news of the said events
+filtered by him through space. While on the West Coast, where all the
+newspapers are printed in Spanish, he had been equally barred from
+keeping in touch with the war, although _en route_ through the Panama
+Canal he did his best to buy up all the old newspapers on the Zone.
+
+Upon arrival in New York with his cargo of nitrate, his anxiety to make
+a record in his first command in steam caused him to stay on the job
+every moment the _Narcissus_ was discharging, for Cappy Ricks had
+impressed upon him, as he impressed upon every skipper in the Blue
+Star employ, the fact that a slow boat is slow paying dividends.
+Consequently, the worthy captain had had no time to acquaint himself
+with the movements of the various fleets, and when he sent his day
+letter to his owners on the morning of the day he sailed from Norfolk
+for Pernambuco, his action was predicated, not on what he knew, but on
+what he felt. The sixth sense that all real sailors possess warned him
+that his cargo of coal was not destined for Batavia nor yet Manila, but
+for delivery at sea to the warships of some foreign nation. Devoutly
+Michael J. hoped it wasn't for the British fleet, since in such
+a contingency he would be cruelly torn between his love and duty.
+Consequently he resolved that, should the choice of alternatives be
+forced upon him, he would steer a middle course and resign his command.
+
+On the other hand, Mike Murphy knew Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks to
+be intensely pro-Ally in their sympathies, despite the President's
+proclamation of neutrality and the polite requests of the motion-picture
+houses for their audiences to remain perfectly quiet while Field-Marshal
+von Hindenburg, Sir John French and General Joffre came on the screen
+and bowed. Under the circumstances, therefore, Murphy found it very
+difficult to suspect his owners of conspiring to deliver a cargo of coal
+to the German fleet at sea. No, indeed! Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks
+were too intensely American for that; indeed, Cappy was always saying he
+hoped to see an American mercantile marine established before he should
+be gathered to the bosom of Abraham.
+
+From whatever angle the doughty skipper viewed it, therefore, the tangle
+became more and more incomprehensible. Cappy and Matt knew full well
+the rules of the game as promulgated by their Uncle Samuel, and the dire
+penalties for infraction. However, granted that they knew they could
+scheme successfully to evade punishment at the hands of their own
+government, Mike Murphy knew full well that no man could guarantee
+immunity from the right of a belligerent warship to visit and search, or
+from confiscation or months of demurrage in a prize court in the event
+that his ship's papers and the course the vessel was travelling failed
+to justify her presence in that particular longitude and latitude.
+And with the huge profits to be made in neutral trade, it seemed
+incomprehensible that a sound business man like Cappy Ricks should
+assume all these risks for the sake of a little extra money. Surely
+he must realize that if he sent her on an illegal errand her war-risk
+insurance would not hold.
+
+On the other hand, it appeared to Murphy that the charter must have
+been consummated with the full knowledge and consent of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, for the veriest tyro in the shipping business could
+not have failed to be suspicious of that clause in the charter party,
+stipulating a call at Pernambuco for orders. Of course there was the
+possibility that this acquiescence had been due to misrepresentation
+on the part of the New York agents or rank stupidity on the part of the
+Blue Star Navigation Company. But Seaborn & Company were above a shady
+deal. In putting through the charter for the Blue Star Navigation
+Company it might have occurred to them that all was not as it should
+be, but that was none of their business. If they spread their hand and
+permitted Cappy Ricks an unobstructed view, it was up to Cappy to decide
+and order them to close or reject the charter. As for stupidity on the
+part of the Blue Star Navigation Company, Murphy knew full well that
+stupidity was the crime Cappy Ricks found it hardest to forgive. Even
+had Cappy overlooked that suspicious clause in the charter, because of
+his age, Matt Peasley's youth and practical maritime knowledge should
+have offset Cappy's error; and even if both had erred, there still
+remained the matchless Skinner, as suspicious as a burglar, as keen as a
+razor, as infallible as a chronometer.
+
+No, it just didn't seem possible that the Blue Star Navigation Company
+had gone into the deal with eyes wide open; on the contrary, it seemed
+equally impossible that they had gone into it with their eyes shut.
+Consequently Michael J. decided to wake them up--provided they slept on
+the job--and to give them an opportunity to repent before it should be
+too late.
+
+He felt very much better after sending that telegram, but as the
+_Narcissus_ ploughed steadily south at the rate of two hundred and
+thirty miles a day, he began to grieve because he had no wireless to
+bring him a prompt reply; he berated himself for not waiting at the dock
+in Norfolk until his owners should have had an opportunity to answer;
+he abused himself for his timidity in questioning the judgment of his
+owners, for indeed he had been content to hint when more decisive action
+was demanded.
+
+How Michael J. Murphy yearned to discuss his problem with some one as
+loyal and devoted to the Blue Star Navigation Company as himself! His
+dignity as master of the _Narcissus_, however, bade him refrain from
+discussing the integrity of his owners with his mates--particularly
+with new mates, to whom the house-flag stood for naught but a symbol of
+monthly revenue. In fact, of the forty-one men under him, there was but
+one with whom he could, with entire dignity, discuss the matter. That
+man was Terence Reardon. But even here he was barred, for since he had
+called the chief engineer a renegade, the only possible discussion
+that could obtain between them now must be anything but academic;
+in consequence of which Michael J. Murphy was forced to hug his
+apprehensions to himself until the _Narcissus_ steamed slowly into the
+outer harbor of Pernambuco. Ten minutes after she dropped her big hook
+the skipper's suspicions were crystallized into certainty.
+
+Just as she came to anchor the steward appeared on deck, vociferously
+beating his triangle to announce supper--for at sea dinner is always
+supper.
+
+“Mr. Schultz,” the captain called from the bridge, “as soon as your men
+have had their supper clear away the working boat. I'm going ashore.”
+
+“Very vell, sir,” Mr. Schultz replied heartily, and the captain went
+below to supper. He was scarcely seated before Mr. Schultz stuck his
+head in the dining saloon window and announced that a gentleman who
+claimed to represent the charterers was alongside in a launch and
+desired to come aboard and speak with him.
+
+“Let down the accommodation ladder, Mr. Schultz, and when the gentleman
+comes aboard, show him round to my state-room,” the skipper answered.
+“I'll meet him there in a pig's whisper. It is probable he has come
+aboard with our orders, Mr. Schultz, so never mind clearing away the
+boat until I speak to you further about it. Steward, set an extra cover
+at my right. We may have a guest for supper.”
+
+He hurried round to his state-room and donned a uniform coat to receive
+his visitor. Mr. Schultz came presently, bearing a visiting-card upon
+which was engraved the name: Mr. August Carl von Staden. Behind the mate
+a sailor with a bulging suitcase stood at attention; two more sailors
+stood behind the first, a steamer trunk between them, and as Captain
+Murphy stepped out on deck to greet his visitor he observed a tall,
+athletic, splendid-looking fellow coming leisurely toward him along the
+deck. The stranger carried a large Gladstone bag.
+
+The captain bowed. “I am the skipper of this big box,” he announced
+pleasantly. “Murphy is my name.”
+
+Herr von Staden shook hands and in most excellent English, without
+the slightest trace of a German accent, expressed his pleasure in the
+meeting. The captain cast a glance of frank curiosity at the bag von
+Staden carried and at the baggage the sailors had in tow. Von Staden
+interpreted the glance and smiled.
+
+“I have brought you your orders, Captain Murphy. They are contained in
+this envelope;” and he handed a blank envelope to the captain. “However,
+I happened to know that one of the orders is to provide a berth for me.
+I'm to go with you as supercargo.”
+
+“I hadn't heard anything about such a possibility,” Mike Murphy replied,
+with just a shade of formality in his tones. He turned to the first
+mate: “Mr. Schultz, will you be good enough to see to it that Mr. von
+Staden's baggage is stowed in the owners' suite. Then tell the steward
+to see that our guest's quarters are put in order. Mr. von Staden, will
+you kindly step into my stateroom here while I read these orders?”
+
+Von Staden nodded. Entering the captain's room he sat down on the
+settee and lighted a gold-tipped cigarette, while Murphy tore open the
+envelope. It contained a cablegram reading as follows:
+
+“Von Staden & Ulrich,--Pernambuco, Brazil,--Ornillo Montevideo.
+
+“BLUESTAR.”
+
+The captain reached for his telegraphic-code book. When decoded the
+message read:
+
+“Instruct captain to proceed to Montevideo and there await further
+orders.
+
+“BLUE STAR NAVIGATION COMPANY.”
+
+The cablegram had been filed at San Francisco two days before. Murphy
+looked keenly at his guest, who smoked tranquilly and returned the look
+without interest.
+
+“Mr. von Staden,” the captain announced, “these are strange orders, in
+view of the fact that I cleared from New York for Manila or Batavia,
+via the Cape of Good Hope. It would be a sure sign of bad luck to the
+steamer _Narcissus_ if a British cruiser should pick her up off the
+coast of Uruguay.”
+
+Von Staden smiled. “You are very direct, captain--very blunt indeed.
+This is a characteristic more Teutonic than Celtic, I believe, so I
+shall experience no embarrassment in being equally frank with you. Your
+cargo of coal is designed for our German Pacific fleet.”
+
+“I guessed as much, sir. Nevertheless, my owners did not see fit to take
+me into their confidence in this illegal undertaking, Mr. von Staden--”
+
+“They did not think it necessary,” von Staden interrupted smilingly.
+“In fact, Captain Peasley assured our people in New York that your
+sympathies are so overwhelming in favor of our cause we need anticipate
+no worry as to the course you would pursue. Moreover, in the event of a
+judicial inquiry it would be an advantage if you could say that you had
+had no voice in the matter, but had been instructed to obey the orders
+of the charterers--of whom we are the agents in Pernambuco. Perhaps this
+cablegram will allay your fears,” and he drew an unopened cablegram from
+his pocket and handed it to Murphy. It was a code cablegram, signed by
+the Blue Star Navigation Company and addressed to Murphy in care of von
+Staden & Ulrich. When decoded it read:
+
+“Execute the orders of supercargo if possible. It may lead to further
+business. Charterers must take the risk. We do not think there is any
+risk. Please remain.”
+
+This cablegram was signed “Matt.”
+
+“Well, captain?” von Staden queried politely.
+
+“I don't like this business at all,” the captain replied. “My owners may
+think there is no risk, but I'm afraid. England controls the seas--”
+
+“We are in possession of the secret code of the British Navy, Captain
+Murphy. We know the approximate location of every British warship in the
+Atlantic and Pacific--and I assure you there is no risk.”
+
+“Well, my boss informs me the charterers assume the risk, so I suppose
+I shouldn't worry over the Blue Star Navigation Company's end of the
+gamble. They know their own business, I dare say. Evidently they feared
+I might want to resign, so I have been asked to remain; and when Captain
+Peasley says 'please' to me, Mr. von Staden, I find it very, very hard
+to refuse.”
+
+“I am glad, for the sake of our selfish interests, my dear captain, to
+find you so loyal to your owners' financial interests,” the supercargo
+replied heartily. “Now that you have decided to remain, I need not point
+out to you the danger of a resignation at this time. It might lead
+to some unlooked-for developments which might prejudice your owners,
+although I think they have covered their tracks very effectually.
+Nevertheless, it is not well to take the slightest risk--”
+
+“Without being well paid for it,” Murphy interrupted sneeringly. “My
+owners have been well paid for their risk, but where do I come in? I
+haven't been promised double my usual salary, or a split on the profits
+of the voyage; and I know if I were to command a vessel loaded with
+munitions of war I would not be asked to take her into the North Sea at
+the customary skipper's wages. I'd be offered a large bonus.”
+
+“You forget, my dear captain, that your charterers assume all the risks.
+One of them was the risk that you might resign unless you received
+adequate compensation. I came aboard prepared to insure that risk,” and
+he touched with his toe the Gladstone bag. “What do you say to $5,000?”
+
+Michael J. Murphy smiled. “It is pleasant, sir,” he said, “to be paid
+$5,000 for doing something one yearns to do for nothing. I am not a hog.
+Five thousand dollars is sufficient. How do I get it--and when?”
+
+“In gold coin of the United States, or gold certificates of the same
+interesting country, my dear captain, and you may have it immediately.”
+ Again Herr von Staden kicked the Gladstone bag.
+
+“I'll take it in gold certificates. And in order that my dear old
+father and mother may have the benefit of my rascality in case anything
+unforeseen should arise to prevent my return, I suggest you hand over
+the boodle this minute, and I'll go ashore and express it home.”
+
+“Captain Murphy, you are a man after my own heart--”
+
+“I am not a born fool, sir,” Murphy interrupted. “I'm accepting this
+money to be a fool, well knowing it is foolish to do it, for still I
+am taking a risk. I am thirty-eight years old, Mr. von Staden, and a
+skipper as young as that has his future all before him. Set him down on
+the beach, however, with his ticket revoked for all time--and his future
+is behind him.”
+
+“In that event,” the supercargo replied, “you might accept my assurance,
+without questioning my authority for such assurance, that you would have
+no difficulty in procuring a remunerative position ashore. The firm of
+von Staden & Ulrich could use you very handily.”
+
+“Thank you, sir. Consider the matter settled. Will you come ashore with
+me, sir, and dine, or would you prefer to have supper aboard?”
+
+“I beg of you to be excused from going ashore, captain. I have much to
+do to-night. The launch which brought me alongside has a knocked-down
+wireless plant aboard, and I am anxious to have it set up on your good
+ship _Narcissus_--a task I shall have to oversee personally. I shall
+probably work all night.”
+
+“Praise be!” Michael J. Murphy answered heartily. “We'll have some
+interest in life now. We can get all the war news, going and coming,
+can't we? Have you brought along an operator?”
+
+“I am an operator,” the supercargo answered. “By the by, can you fix me
+up with a wireless room?”
+
+“There are two staterooms and a bath in the owners' suite which you will
+occupy. You can take your choice.”
+
+“Good. I shall want to sleep close to my instrument.”
+
+He opened the bag, counted out five one-thousand-dollar gold
+certificates of the United States of America and handed them to the
+captain.
+
+“The grand old rag,” Michael J. murmured. “How many rascals fight under
+the flag of old King Spondulics!”
+
+“I believe you have an Irish chief engineer,” von Staden continued.
+“While I understand his sympathies are with us, still it seems only
+right to compensate--”
+
+“Suit yourself, Mr. von Staden.”
+
+“What kind of a man is he, captain?”
+
+“I'd hate to tell you. I've had little to do with him, but that little
+was enough. We avoid each other as much as possible and never speak
+except in the line of duty. I make no bones of the fact that I think
+he's a scrub.”
+
+Mr. von Staden nodded sagely. “Perhaps I'd better wait and get
+acquainted with him,” he suggested, and closed his bag. Murphy
+showed him to his quarters, which the steward, under the first mate's
+supervision, was already setting in order; and, having decided to set
+up the wireless in the sleeping-room, von Staden accompanied the skipper
+round to superintend the taking on board of the wireless plant from
+the gasoline launch bobbing alongside. When the equipment was finally
+hoisted to the deck of the _Narcissus_, Michael J, Murphy boarded the
+launch and was whisked ashore for the avowed purpose of sending to his
+aged parents the fruits of his elastic conscience.
+
+Herr August Carl von Staden stood at the head of the accommodation
+ladder and smiled as the launch disappeared into the tropic twilight.
+Then he said something in German to Mr. Schultz, who laughed. Evidently
+it was very good news, for even the quartermaster at the companion
+ladder smiled covertly. It is possible they would not have felt so
+cheerful had they known that Michael J. Murphy's “dear old father and
+mother” had been sleeping in a Boston cemetery some fifteen years, and
+that their last words to Michael had been an exhortation to remember
+that manliness and honor must be his only heritage. And as the launch
+bore him shoreward, he looked back and grinned at the dim, duck-clad
+figure of von Staden.
+
+“Your agents looked me up, my hearty,” he soliloquized, “and if they did
+their work half well, they told you I was an honest man. Only a crook
+comes with a bag of gold to talk illegitimate business with an honest
+man. I'm banking you're as crooked as a bed spring, and that there's
+something fishy about this enterprise. Cappy Ricks isn't fully informed,
+otherwise he wouldn't be doing business with a crook!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Arrived ashore, Captain Murphy hurried to the cable office, registered
+his cable address, borrowed a code book and sent a code telegram to
+his owner. Then, having subsidized the operator liberally to rush it,
+Michael J. Murphy set out for a stroll among the limited attractions
+of Pernambuco. His cablegram would get through in two hours at the very
+most, and though the captain figured the Blue Star offices would
+be closed when the message reached San Francisco, still he was not
+discouraged. He knew the cable company always telephoned to Mr. Skinner,
+at his home, all Blue Star and Ricks Lumber & Logging messages arriving
+after office hours and before midnight. Naturally Skinner could be
+depended upon to have a copy of the code at home, and if he didn't
+Murphy knew he would rush down to the office, no matter what the hour,
+and decode it there. Of course he would cable his reply immediately, in
+which event it might be that the captain would have an answer shortly
+after midnight or by breakfast at the latest.
+
+He decided, therefore, to return to the cable office about midnight and
+await the reply to his cablegram. He had proceeded but a few blocks from
+the cable office, however, before a disturbing thought struck him with
+such force as to bring him to an abrupt pause.
+
+_His owners had cabled him in care of von Staden & Ulrich, when in the
+telegram sent just before sailing from Norfolk he had instructed them
+to cable him in care of the American consul._ Murphy's native shrewdness
+had made him suspicious of von Staden the instant the latter had so
+nonchalantly offered him a bribe of five thousand dollars, for
+the proffer of a bribe of that magnitude, without any preliminary
+bargaining, did not co-ordinate with Michael's idea of business.
+Certainly if the charterers had his owners “fixed,” five thousand
+dollars was too much money to give their captain, particularly since
+there were available any number of capable rascals eager to do the job
+for twenty-five hundred, and the devil take the consequences.
+
+At the time von Staden had handed him the two cablegrams from the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, no suspicion that they were forgeries had
+entered the captain's mind; indeed, Matt Peasley's cablegram to him
+appeared at first blush to be an answer to the telegram which Murphy had
+sent his owners from Norfolk. In that telegram Murphy had mentioned his
+suspicions and hinted at unwarranted risks and the possibility of
+the circumstances attending the delivery of his cargo forcing his
+resignation. Matt's cablegram handed him by von Staden urged him to
+remain in the ship and assured him there were no risks; that if there
+were, the charterers assumed them. For the nonce, therefore, the
+master's mind did not dwell on any doubts as to the genuineness of
+the orders he had received, even though he decided instantly as a
+precautionary measure to confirm them before proceeding to carry them
+out. This, however, was merely because he was suspicious of von
+Staden and desired to obviate the possibility of that individual's
+double-crossing the Blue Star Navigation Company.
+
+Under the circumstances, therefore, he had considered it good policy to
+appear to fall readily in line, and, the better to disarm von Staden's
+watchfulness, he had demanded extra compensation. The ease with which
+the bribe had been secured having crystallized his suspicions, instantly
+he had cast about in his ingenious brain for a good sound excuse for
+going ashore and cabling his owners. To demand his bribe in advance and
+then announce that he would go ashore and express it to those dependent
+upon him, in case he failed to return and enjoy it himself, seemed to
+present a reason that would not be questioned and accordingly he had
+done so.
+
+Michael J. Murphy removed his uniform cap and thoughtfully scratched his
+head. “Now why,” he demanded of the scented night, “did Matt cable me
+in care of that German firm when he must have known I would call on the
+American consul in the expectation of finding a cablegram there?” He
+shook his head. “They've got us winging, Michael,” he soliloquized, “so
+I suppose the only thing to do is to play safe, call upon the American
+consul immediately if not sooner, and ask if he has a cablegram for us.”
+
+And without further ado the worthy fellow sprang into a cab and was
+whirled away to the residence of the American consul. Yes, the consul
+had a cablegram for him, but it was at his office. Could Captain Murphy
+not wait until morning?
+
+Most emphatically Captain Murphy could not. That cablegram was
+important; it meant a great deal of money and possibly life or death--
+
+Regretfully the consul entered the cab with the captain, drove to the
+consulate and delivered the cable-gram to the eager mariner, who swore
+when he discovered it was in cipher and not code, for this necessitated
+immediate return to the _Narcissus_ in order to obtain the key to the
+cipher. He thanked the consul and sent the latter home in the cab, while
+he hurried for the harbor front and the nearest boat landing. He was
+filled with apprehension, for indeed there was something radically
+wrong when his owners cabled him in the secret cipher of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company--something the company had, doubtless, never found
+occasion to do before. For while each vessel of the Blue Star fleet
+had a copy of the A.L. code aboard, with the cipher key typewritten and
+pasted on the second fly-leaf, not a single Blue Star skipper knew why
+it had been pasted there or why the company should have gone to the
+trouble of getting up any one of the hundreds of secret ciphers possible
+to be developed from the A. L. Telegraphic Code. This was a secret that
+lay locked in the breast of Mr. Skinner. It is probable, however, that
+it had occurred to him in an idle moment that a secret cipher might
+come in handy some day, and Mr. Skinner believed in being prepared for
+emergencies.
+
+The captain bade the launch wait for him at the accommodation ladder,
+while he hurried round to his state-room and promptly fell to work on
+Mr. Skinner's cipher cablegram. When he had laboriously deciphered it
+this is what he read:
+
+“Unaccountably failed note suspicious clause charter. Something rotten.
+We are playing square game. Think plot deliver coal German fleet South
+Atlantic. Discharge your German crew immediately, first notifying
+Brazilian authorities and American consul. Have help when you notify
+them game is off, otherwise may take vessel away from you. They will
+stop at nothing; fleet desperate for coal. Cable acknowledgment these
+orders; also cable when orders fulfilled. Very anxious. 'BLUE STAR
+NAVIGATION COMPANY.'”
+
+“Ah-h-h!” breathed Michael J. Murphy softly, but very distinctly. “So
+that's the game, eh?” His big square chin set viciously; subconsciously
+he clenched his hard fist and shook it at his enemies. “The cunning
+Dutch devils!” he murmured very audibly, and at that precise instant
+Herr August Carl von Staden stood in the open doorway. He coughed, and
+Murphy glanced up from the translation of the cipher message just in
+time to note a swift shadow pass over the supercargo's face, a shadow
+composed of equal parts of suspicion, embarrassment and desperation.
+
+“You have returned very promptly, captain,” he remarked smoothly, and
+then his restless glance fell on the cablegram and beside it the scratch
+pad and the two parallel columns of words scrawled on it. A man of far
+less intelligence than von Staden possessed would, have realized as
+quickly that the first column was composed of cipher words, while the
+second column was the translation. From this tell-tale evidence his
+suspicious glance lifted to the skipper's face, and he read in Michael
+J. Murphy's black eyes the wild rage which no Irishman could have
+concealed--which the majority of his race would not even have taken the
+trouble to endeavor to conceal.
+
+In that glance each learned the other's secret; each realized that the
+success of his plans depended on the silence of the other; each resolved
+instantly to procure that silence at any cost. Von Staden reached for
+his hip pocket, but before he could draw his automatic pistol and cover
+the skipper, Michael J. Murphy had hurled ten pounds of code book into
+the geometric centre of the supercargo's face. It was the first weapon
+his hand closed over, and he did not disdain it. The instant it landed
+and von Staden reeled before the blow, Murphy came out of his state-room
+with a scuttering rush and von Staden fired as he came. The captain felt
+the sting of the bullet as it creased the top of his left shoulder;
+then his right fist came up in a blow that started at his hip and landed
+fairly under the supercargo's heart. Von Staden grunted once, the pistol
+dropped clattering to the deck and he folded up like an accordion. For
+him the battle was over.
+
+Not so, however, with Mike Murphy. Gone to the winds now was the caution
+he would have exercised had the attack been delayed two seconds longer;
+forgotten was the shrewd advice of his owners to have help standing by
+when the ship cleaning should commence. Michael J. Murphy thought of
+nothing but blood, for the fight had started now and he was loath to
+have it cease.
+
+“You bloody murderer!” he growled. “You'd kill me and steal my ship,
+would you?” And with the reckless abandon of a sailor he planted the
+broad toe of a number nine boot in Herr von Staden's short ribs, hoping
+to break a few, for in the process of working his way up from the bottom
+Michael had fought under deep-sea rules too often to be squeamish now.
+So he kicked Herr von Staden again, after which a glimmer of reason
+penetrated his hot head and he walked to pick up the supercargo's
+automatic pistol. Then something landed on him from above and he went
+down backward. His head struck the deck with a resounding thump,
+and Michael J. Murphy had a through ticket to the Land of Nod and no
+stop-over privileges.
+
+The something which had thus inopportunely dropped on Michael was Mr.
+Henckel, the second mate. He had gone up on the bridge to see if
+the canvas jacket had been dropped over the brightly polished brass
+engine-room telegraph apparatus at each end of the bridge, in order to
+protect it from the tropical dew. While thus engaged he had heard the
+shot which von Staden fired at the captain, and forthwith had run across
+the top of the house and peered over to discover what was happening
+on the deck below. Discovering the captain in the act of kicking a
+distinguished son of the Fatherland in that fragile section of the human
+anatomy frequently referred to as the “slats,” the second mate had stood
+a moment, immobile with horror, the while he gazed upon the fearful
+scene. Then the captain walked to a spot on the deck directly beneath
+the position occupied by his subordinate, and stooped to pick something
+up.
+
+Even their enemies are proud of the dash and gallantry, the utter
+contempt for consequences, which animate the German going into battle,
+and Mr. Henckel, second mate of the S.S. _Narcissus_, was as fine a
+German as one could find in a day's travel. The instant Michael J.
+Murphy stooped to recover von Staden's automatic pistol, therefore, Mr.
+Henckel saw his duty and, in the language of the elect, “he went an'
+done it”--the which was absurdly simple. He merely leaped down off
+the house on top of the captain, and forthwith deep peace and profound
+silence brooded over the good ship _Narcissus_, of San Francisco.
+
+It is worthy of remark here that Mr. Terence Reardon who, had he been
+present, might have had something to say--not that his action would
+indicate that he despised Mike Murphy the less, but that he loved his
+owners more--was unfortunately down in the engine-room. Consequently he
+failed to hear the shot, and when he came up on deck the victims of
+the affray had been collected and taken thence, a seaman with a mop
+had removed the profuse evidence which Mike Murphy's rich red blood had
+furnished and Mr. Schultz, the first mate, was on the bridge, while Mr.
+Henckel was up on the forecastle head with his gang, waiting for the
+order to break out the anchor.
+
+Presently a seaman came up on the bridge and reported that the light in
+Mr. Reardon's state-room had been out fifteen minutes. So Mr. Schultz
+waited an hour longer to make certain the chief engineer would be
+asleep; whereupon commenced a harsh, discordant tune--the music of
+the anchor chain paying in through the hawse pipe. When it ceased Mr.
+Schultz stepped to the marine telegraph; a bell jingled in the bowels of
+the _Narcissus_; an instant later all the lights aboard her went out as
+the first assistant engineer threw off the switch, and silently in the
+heavy velvet gloom the great vessel slipped out of Pernambuco harbor and
+headed south.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Just about the time the _Narcissus_ was kicking ahead at nine knots, in
+distant San Francisco the cable company was getting Mr. Skinner out
+of bed to dictate to him over the telephone a message which had just
+arrived from Pernambuco.
+
+“Ah!” murmured the incomparable Skinner as he donned a dressing gown and
+slippers and descended to his library to decode the cablegram. “The
+luck of the Blue Star flag still holds. That belligerent and highly
+intelligent fellow Murphy has received our cablegram, sent him in care
+of the American consul, and in accordance with my instructions he is
+acknowledging its receipt. Hum-m-m! The first word is 'oriana.' Let
+me turn to 'oriana.' Hum-m! 'I have an order presumably emanating from
+blank.' Ah, yes, the next word is 'Buestar,' the cable address of the
+Blue Star Navigation Company. Well, well, well, the foxy fellow! After
+wiring us to cable him, he gets our cable and then cables us to confirm
+it! Caution is a virtue, but this brand is too high-priced. The next
+word is 'osculo'.”
+
+Mr. Skinner turned to “osculo” and discovered that it meant “I am
+ordered to--” The next word in the cablegram was “Montevideo.”
+
+“Good heavens!” Mr. Skinner gasped. “He has received orders, presumably
+emanating from us, ordering him to Montevideo! Can it be possible that
+Mr. Ricks or Matt Peasley has sent him a cablegram without my knowledge?
+I must read further.”
+
+He did, and having done so he discovered that, in addition to being
+ordered to Montevideo, Mike Murphy wanted to know if it was all right
+and if von Staden and Ulrich--presumably German--were to be trusted;
+that he would remain in command at the company's request, although
+he considered such request unreasonable, even if it could be granted
+without risk. Also, he wanted these instructions confirmed and was
+anxiously awaiting an answer.
+
+“Well, I'm certain of one thing,” Mr. Skinner soliloquized after
+reading this extraordinary message: “Murphy has not been to the American
+consul's office for the cablegram I sent him several days ago. Evidently
+there is mischief afoot. However, there is nothing to be gained by
+cabling him again in care of the American consul, so I'll just assume
+that he has registered his cable address with the cable company; hence,
+if I cable him to his cable address the message will be delivered to him
+aboard the _Narcissus_. And since he says he is anxiously awaiting an
+answer, I'll relieve his anxiety with all possible speed and send him an
+answer immediately.”
+
+Whereupon Mr. Skinner wasted several dollars cabling Mike Murphy that
+the Blue Star Navigation had not, to his knowledge, cabled him any
+instructions save those sent in care of the American consul; that von
+Staden and Ulrich were unknown to him, and to be very careful not to
+lose the ship. This message Mr. Skinner dictated over the telephone to
+the telegraph office and asked them to rush it. Evidently they did so,
+for just as Cappy Ricks arrived in the office the following morning,
+word was received from the telegraph company that owing to the departure
+of the _Narcissus_ from Pernambuco the night before, the Blue Star
+Navigation Company's cablegram had not been delivered.
+
+“Well, Skinner,” Cappy chirped as he sat in at his desk and lighted a
+cigar, “what's the news around the shop this fine morning? Any word from
+Murphy?”
+
+“Yes--and no,” Mr. Skinner replied, and laid his information before
+Cappy for perusal. Cappy read it all twice, then slid out to the edge of
+his chair, placed his hands on his knees and looked at Mr. Skinner over
+the rims of his spectacles.
+
+“Skinner, my dear boy,” he said solemnly, “this is certainly hell! Cable
+the American consul in Pernambuco and ask him if Murphy received the
+cablegram we sent in care of the consulate. And, in the meantime, don't
+whisper a word of this disquieting information to Matt Peasley. Time
+enough to cross a bridge, Skinner, when you come to it.”
+
+Mr. Skinner promptly filed a cablegram to the American consul, and just
+before the office closed they got about forty dollars' worth of reply,
+informing them that Captain Murphy had appeared at the consulate greatly
+excited the night previous; that he had declared the cablegram awaiting
+him might mean life or death--certainly a large sum of money; that he
+had been given the cablegram and had gone aboard ship to look up his
+cipher key. He had not returned and the ship was not in the harbor.
+
+“Let me see the carbon copy of the cablegram you sent Murphy in care of
+the American consul,” Cappy demanded. Mr. Skinner with a sinking heart
+obeyed.
+
+“Skinner,” said Cappy, “do I understand you sent this message in cipher,
+which necessitated on the part of our captain a trip back to his ship
+before he could decipher it? Why didn't you send him the message in
+regular code? He would then have decoded it right in the consulate, or
+at best he could have gone to the cable office and borrowed a code book
+from them.”
+
+“I sent it in our secret cipher,” Mr. Skinner faltered. “It was delicate
+business--quite--er--an international complication, as it were, and in
+the event of unpleasant developments--Well, how did I know but that some
+German might be on the key at the cable office when the message arrived
+there for Murphy--”
+
+“Quite right, Skinner, my boy, quite right,” Cappy interrupted
+sadly. “The only trouble with you, Skinner, is that you're too danged
+efficient. You look so far into the future you're always gumming up the
+present.” He sighed.
+
+“Why, what do you think--” Skinner began, but Cappy silenced him with an
+autocratic finger.
+
+“I do not think, Skinner, I know. Had it not been for your damnable
+cipher message, Murphy would have got your warning ashore instead of
+being forced to go back to the ship for it. Having got it ashore he
+would have taken care to warn the Brazilian authorities and they would
+have been on watch and prevented the ship from leaving. As I view the
+situation, Mike went aboard, deciphered your message and got ripping
+mad. Von Staden and Ulrich were probably aboard, and hot-headed Mike
+probably undertook to throw them overboard single-handed--and failed.
+His body is doubtless feeding the fishes in Pernambuco harbor this
+minute, and our lovely--big--_Narcissus_--the pride of--the Blue Star
+fleet--”
+
+“Shall I tell Captain Peasley?” Mr. Skinner faltered.
+
+“Yes, tell him. He's bound to find out sooner or later. Skinner, I could
+stand the loss of the ship, but what breaks me all up is the thought
+that after forty years of honorable business my friends and my enemies
+might suspect me of being a filibuster. I, Alden P. Ricks, whose
+great-grandfather died at Yorktown, whose grandfather was killed at
+Lundy's Lane, whose father won a medal of honor at Chapultepec--I,
+Alden P. Ricks, who had to belong to the Home Guard because I was such
+a little runt they wouldn't take me in the Civil War--to think that I
+should attain to seventy years and even be suspected of staining the
+flag of my country for the sake of a few dirty dollars--after all the
+Ricks blood that has been shed for that flag! Horrible!”
+
+Mr. Skinner turned away for, man and boy, he had spent twenty-five years
+under Cappy Ricks, and he loved him. He could not bear to see the old
+man suffer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+When Michael J. Murphy returned to consciousness he found himself in his
+berth, although for all the effort he made to verify this fact it might
+have been Mr. Reardon's. For fully half an hour he lay there, gradually
+straightening out the tangle in his intellect, and presently he was
+aware that the back of his head was very sore and ached, so he put up
+his hand to rub it and found a lump as large as a walnut. His right
+shoulder was numb and he was unable to move it, although this would not
+have surprised him had he been aware that a hundred and eighty pounds
+of Teutonic masculinity had landed on that shoulder with both feet and
+dislocated it. As it was, the skipper wondered vaguely if the ship's
+funnel had fallen over on him. His right side ached externally, and when
+he sighed it ached internally. That was a broken rib tickling his lung,
+for, while he was in blissful ignorance of the reason therefor, the
+chronicler of this tale can serve no good purpose by concealing the true
+facts in the case. Immediately upon regaining consciousness, Herr August
+Carl von Staden had insisted upon returning Michael J. Murphy's kicks
+with compound interest.
+
+“Holy mackerel!” the skipper murmured. “I feel like I've been fed into
+a concrete mixer. The only injury I can account for is my left shoulder,
+where that supercargo shot me.”
+
+After spending another half hour in mild speculation on these phenomena
+he was aware of an added impediment in breathing, so he put his hand
+up to his nose and found it clogged with blood. His luxuriant black
+mustache prevented an extended examination of his upper lip, but
+nevertheless, something told him it was split. A hard foreign substance
+lying between his right cheek and the inferior maxillary he concluded
+must be the pit of an olive left over from dinner. Subsequently,
+however, he discovered it was one of his own teeth. So he swore a mighty
+oath and felt considerably better.
+
+“This is certainly mutiny on the high seas and punishable by hanging,”
+ he soliloquized. “I wonder if Cappy Ricks would know me now;” and he
+reached up to turn the switch of the electric light over his berth.
+He turned the switch, but the light did not come on, and while he lay
+considering this state of affairs, he was aware that something that was
+not his head was throbbing in the ship. He decided presently that it was
+her engines. From the steady rhythmic pulsations he realized the vessel
+was being driven full speed ahead; and since he could not recall having
+given any orders to that effect, he was not long in arriving at the
+correct answer to the riddle--whereupon Michael J. Murphy did what
+every shipmaster does when he loses the ship he loves and finds himself
+ravished of his reputation as a sane and careful skipper. He wept!
+
+Those who know the breed will bid you beware the Irish when they weep
+from any cause save grief or sympathy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Cappy Ricks, who claimed to know Mike Murphy's kind of Irish, doubtless
+would have been extremely gratified had he been granted a peep at the
+battered, bleeding, weeping wreck of his faithful Michael as the pride
+of the Blue Star fleet rolled south to meet the grey sea rovers of the
+Fatherland and deliver the cargo of coal that meant so much to them. The
+sight might have aroused some hope in Cappy's heavy heart, he being by
+nature inconsistent and always seeing a profit where others found naught
+but a deficit. However, though Cappy was variously gifted he was not
+a clairvoyant, in consequence of which he spent a very sleepless night
+following the receipt of that windy cablegram from the American consul.
+He dined at his club, and when it was time for him to leave and his
+daughter sent her car for him, he lacked the courage to go home and face
+his son-in-law. So he spent the night at the club and came down to the
+office about noon, hoping Matt Peasley would have recovered from the
+shock by that time. The latter was waiting for him, and came into
+Cappy's sanctum immediately to hold a post-mortem.
+
+“Matthew, my dear boy,” said Cappy miserably, “this is terrible.”
+
+“I think we should take the matter up immediately with the State
+Department,” Matt replied. “There may be a United States warship in
+those waters, and she could be instructed by wireless to endeavor to
+intercept the _Narcissus._ We can prove a clean bill of health with
+those cablegrams, and get back our ship.”
+
+“Yes--from our own Government, of course. But, oh, Matt, if old Johnny
+Bull ever gets his horns into her we can kiss her good-bye. We can't
+bring forward any evidence to alibi that German crew on a ship so far
+off her course and loaded with contraband.”
+
+“Well, I know if I were skippering a British warship and picked up the
+_Narcissus,_ her owners would find I was born and bred in Missouri,” the
+honest Matt admitted. “By the way, have you read this morning's papers?”
+
+“No, Matt. I've felt too blamed miserable about this _Narcissus_
+affair.”
+
+“Well, the _Scharnhorst_, the _Gneisenau_, the _Leipzig,_, the _Dresden_
+and the _Nurnberg_ met a British fleet under Admiral Craddock, away down
+off Coronel, Chile. The British were cleaned for fair.”
+
+“You don't tell me!”
+
+“I do tell you. And I'll bet my immortal soul that German fleet is
+heading for the entrance to Magellan this minute. If I were a religious
+man I'd be praying for clear weather so they'll find the entrance
+without any trouble.”
+
+“I hope they run ashore and drown every man Jack!” cried Cappy fiercely.
+
+“I do not. You will note that our charterers tried to induce Mike to go
+to Montevideo for orders. That was because they expected to lie snug at
+Montevideo and be within striking distance of a designated meeting place
+in the South Atlantic when the German fleet should pass through Magellan
+from the Pacific. Remember that for several weeks the German fleet has
+managed to lose itself in the Pacific, but now that the British fleet
+has stumbled onto it and forced an engagement, the Australian and
+Japanese cruisers will all be headed for the south coast of Chile to
+make reprisal. We know the Germans are short of coal; doubtless some of
+the fleet have suffered in the engagement with Admiral Craddock's
+ships, so it's a safe bet they'll run into the Atlantic now and raid the
+Falkland Islands--by the way, a British possession. They will hope to
+find coal and stores there, which, with the cargo of the _Narcissus,_
+will enable them to continue raiding.
+
+“Of course they will try to accomplish this before England sends a fleet
+to avenge Craddock--and I'm hoping the Germans will succeed, for, if
+they do, they will surely be decent enough to run our _Narcissus_ into
+some South American port and give us an opportunity to get her back
+again. On the other hand, if the Germans delay their departure from the
+Pacific, the British will surely get wind of the _Narcissus_ waiting at
+Montevideo; and when she comes out they'll just naturally grab her.”
+
+“I guess you're right,” Cappy replied gloomily; “so for the present
+we're pro-German. Still, I find that a hard dose to swallow, in view of
+the fact that our German crew in the _Narcissus_ has evidently taken the
+vessel away from Mike Murphy.”
+
+“I am sure they have done just that, sir; otherwise Mike would have
+obeyed our orders. We know he received the orders; hence the only reason
+he did not carry them out was because he wasn't permitted to do so. My
+only hope is that they haven't killed him, for if he is alive and free,
+he and Reardon, with the assistance of the cockney steward and the two
+Chinese cooks, might--”
+
+“Might what?”
+
+“Might steal her back again.”
+
+“Matt! It isn't possible, is it?”
+
+“I'll bet Mike Murphy and I could steal her back if we had half a
+chance. The odds would be forty to two against our succeeding, but a
+little strategy is sometimes to be preferred to great horsepower. I
+think I could do it, and I think Murphy will do it--if he only thinks of
+it.”
+
+“How? Tell me how you'd steal her back.”
+
+“What's the use?” Matt replied wearily. “I'd have to have help. So will
+Mike--and I've just remembered Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon are the
+wrong kind of Irish to have together in the same ship. We did our best
+to prevent it, but the odds are too long for us; the coal is for the
+Germans and we hate England, so why worry? I know Mike Murphy will not
+take that view of it; for my sake he'll fight to the last gasp, but he
+must have help, and Reardon owes me no such allegiance as Murphy.”
+
+“Well, he owes me something,” Cappy spoke up. “You promised him a
+hundred and seventy-five dollars a month and I raised the ante to two
+hundred. It was an investment, pure and simple. I was buying loyalty,
+and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I think I'll get it. Come to think
+of it, there was a look in Reardon's eyes that I liked, when he took my
+hand in those greasy paws of his and said he was a proud man to work for
+me. Matt, that fellow is full of bellicose veins. He may not fight
+for me, but he'll fight for Mrs. Reardon and the children and that
+two-hundred-dollar-a-month job, for it's the first he's ever had and
+if he loses out it'll be the last he'll ever get. He was telling me all
+about his family and how much the job meant to him, that day we had the
+_Narcissus_ out on her trial trip.”
+
+Matt Peasley's face brightened. “By Jupiter, that puts a different face
+on the situation. If Reardon is alive they might get together for mutual
+protection.”
+
+“Well,” Cappy piped up, greatly relieved to discover Matt was facing the
+tragedy so optimistically, “we might do worse than hope. Wire the State
+Department, Matt; and in the meanwhile, cheer up, sonny, and trust in
+the luck of Alden P. Ricks. I remember Captain Noah Kendall--peace to
+his ashes--used to say to me: 'Mr. Ricks, if you ever fell into Channel
+Creek at low tide you'd come up with a pearl necklace wrapped round your
+ankle, and you'd be smelling like a spray of lemon verbena.' Cheer up,
+Matt! What though the cause be lost, the _Narcissus_ is not lost--yet.
+The Celtic troops remain, and from now on my war cry is going to be--”
+
+“Ireland uber Alles,” Matt Peasley suggested.
+
+“You're blamed whistlin'!” said Cappy Ricks.
+
+So Mr. Skinner was called into consultation, and he and Matt Peasley and
+Cappy drew up a heart-rending telegram to the Secretary of State,
+who consulted with the Secretary of the Navy, who wired the Blue Star
+Navigation Company that he was sorry but he didn't have as much as a
+rowboat in the South Atlantic to save their steamer _Narcissus,_ and
+would they please keep still about it, since a noise like that, unless
+absolutely based on facts--and he understood their wail to be based on
+suspicion--would tend to create additional friction in an international
+complication already strained to the breaking point. Whereupon Cappy
+Ricks flew into a rage and immediately dictated a long letter to his
+congressman and his senator, urging them to battle to the last trench in
+the campaign for a two-power navy.
+
+Time passed. Then suddenly the world rocked with the news of the
+annihilation of the German Pacific fleet off the Falkland Islands. Cappy
+Ricks and Matt Peasley read the horrid tale in the morning papers as
+they sat at breakfast, and immediately both lost all interest in food.
+Like two mourners about to set out for the morgue to identify the corpse
+of a loved one recently killed by a taxicab, they drove down to the Blue
+Star offices, where immediately upon arrival something terrible in Mr.
+Skinner's face brought on palpitation of Cappy Ricks' heart.
+
+“Skinner, my dear boy,” he chattered, “Have you any news?”
+
+“Not yet, sir,” murmured Mr. Skinner brokenly, “but soon! The British
+consul wants you to ring him up. He says he's had a wireless from
+H.M.S. _Panther,_ off the Falkland Islands, and he thinks it will be of
+interest to you.”
+
+“Is my _Narcissus_ confiscated?” Cappy and Matt cried in chorus.
+
+“I--I don't know,” Skinner faltered. “I just didn't have the courage to
+pursue the matter further. The British consul said she was captured but
+as for con--”
+
+“Idiot! Bonehead!” rasped Cappy. “My _Narcissus_ is gone--gone! Oh,
+Lord! Matt, you ring up the British consul--I'm an old man--Skinner, my
+dear chap, forgive my harsh language. Have you a little drop of whisky
+in the office?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Capt. Michael J. Murphy's futile tears of rage having dried almost as
+quickly as they came, he crawled painfully out of his berth and lighted
+a match, to discover he was a prisoner in his own state-room. He turned
+another electric switch, but still the room remained in darkness.
+
+“Sneaking out of Pernambuco with the lights doused,” he soliloquized.
+Then he remembered a little stump of candle he kept in his desk for use
+when heating sealing wax, so he lighted the candle and by its meager
+rays took inventory of his features in the little mirror over his
+washstand.
+
+“By the Toe Nails of Moses,” he soliloquized, “somebody's sea-boots did
+that, and if I ever find out who was wearing them at the time there'll
+be a fight or a footrace. I'm a total wreck and no insurance--yes, thank
+God! here's the ship's medicine chest.”
+
+Having spent the greater portion of an adventurous career far
+from medical aid in time of bodily stress, Michael J. was, as most
+shipmasters are, rather adept in rough-and-tumble surgery. His compact
+little library contained a common-sense treatise on the care of burns,
+scalds, cuts, fractures and the few minor physical diseases that sailors
+are heir to, and in accordance with immemorial custom he, as master of
+the ship, was the custodian of the medicine chest. So he washed the gore
+from his face, disinfected his split lip and patched himself up after
+a fashion. The bullet wound in his left shoulder proved to be a flesh
+wound, high up, so he cleaned that and decided his left wing would be
+in fair fighting order within a few days. Then he undressed and said his
+prayers, with a special invocation for help from his patron saint,
+holy Saint Michael, the archangel. Evidently Saint Michael inclined a
+friendly ear, for it is a curious fact that no sooner had his namesake
+risen from his marrow bones than a curious sense of peace and comfort
+stole over him. As in a vision he saw Herr August Carl von Staden
+standing on the bridge, bound at ankle, knee and hand and with a rope
+round his neck. From the supercargo's neck the rope led aloft through a
+small snatch-block fastened to the end of a cargo derrick and thence to
+the drum of the forward winch--a device which had been known to hoist
+with a jerk objects several tons heavier than Herr August Carl von
+Staden! This picture thus conjured in Murphy's imagination was so real
+he was almost tempted to recite the litany for the dying!
+
+“'Twould have been better for them had they killed me dead and hove my
+carcass overboard,” he decided. “The fact that they didn't, but took the
+trouble to carry me to my own bed and lock me in, is proof that they'll
+not murder me now--so I'll not worry. I'll have every beer-drinking,
+sausage-making son of a seacook begging me for mercy before the week is
+out. I'll just lie low and rest up a bit, and by the time we're off Rio
+I'll drop on them like a top-mast in a typhoon. Then with the help of
+the two Chinamen, the steward and Reardon 'twill not be hard to run her
+into Rio. I wonder if that pirate frisked me of my five thousand.” He
+searched through his clothing and was amazed to discover that the bills
+were still in his possession.
+
+“I'll give them back in the morning,” he concluded. “I had a pistol in
+the drawer of my desk and a rifle in that locker;” and in the wild hope
+that his luck still held, he searched eagerly for both. They were gone.
+
+Nevertheless, Michael J. Murphy smiled as he wrapped a wet towel round
+his throbbing head, for he had already decided upon his plan of campaign
+for regaining command of his ship, a _coup_ for which he required no
+weapon more formidable than his native intelligence. As he sank groaning
+into the arms of Morpheus, however, even a Digger Indian would have
+realized that for the next two weeks the master of the _Narcissus_ would
+be unable to defend himself against an old lady armed with a slipper.
+Nevertheless, the indomitable fellow, with the amazing optimism of
+his race, had already decided to attack and subdue, within four
+days, thirty-six husky male enemies; which lends some color to the
+oft-repeated declaration that an Irishman fights best when he is on his
+back with his opponent feeling for his windpipe.
+
+When Michael J. Murphy awoke it was broad daylight and Herr August
+Carl von Staden was standing over him. The supercargo was clad in an
+immaculate suit of white flannels and was looking as fresh as new paint.
+
+“Can it be possible?” Murphy queried in amazement. “Upon my word, friend
+pirate, I had flattered myself I'd tucked you away for a couple of days
+at least.”
+
+“The excellent Mr. Henckel tells me I was out for ten minutes from
+that solar-plexus blow you landed,” Mr. von Staden replied in tones of
+mingled admiration and friendliness. “And of course you cannot see how
+sore my ribs feel. I take it rather ill of you to have kicked me.”
+
+“Kicked you! I wish I'd killed you! And, speaking of kicks, somebody
+certainly kicked me. Who was it?”
+
+“Upon recovering consciousness,” the supercargo replied with some
+embarrassment, “I was overcome with fury. You were lying on the floor of
+your stateroom, where Mr. Schultz and Mr. Henckel had hurriedly tossed
+you--so I came in and kicked you.”
+
+“I never kicked you in the face,” Murphy complained.
+
+“No, but you flattened my nose with your code book.”
+
+“Well, I'll admit a good smack on the nose does make a man mad. But
+you shot me in the shoulder. By the way, do your lungs hurt when you
+breathe, Dutchy?”
+
+“No. Do yours?”
+
+“A slight tickle. I think you caved in my super-structure. Who jumped on
+me from the top of the house?”
+
+“The second mate.”
+
+“He dislocated my shoulder. I can wiggle my fingers, so I know it isn't
+a fracture. Suppose you take off your shoe, sit at the foot of my bed,
+put your foot under my right armpit and press, and at the same time pull
+on my right arm.”
+
+“Delighted, I'm sure,” declared Herr von Staden in his charming Oxford
+accent, and forthwith snapped Michael J. Murphy's shoulder into place
+with great dexterity.
+
+“Thank you,” the skipper answered, and wiped the beads of agony from his
+white face. “If you'll frisk my trousers over there on the settee you'll
+find the five thousand dollars you gave me to sell out my owners. I
+don't want it. I never intended to keep it. I was suspicious of you and
+your confounded cablegrams, and I had to have a reasonable excuse to go
+ashore and cable my owners for confirmation. The bribe furnished that
+excuse. I suppose you thought I'd fallen for your game.”
+
+“I must confess your attitude completely deceived me.”
+
+“Thanks for the compliment. And now, if you don't mind, suppose you
+tell me something: Was it a German agent who put the bug in my ear about
+hiring the crew of that interned German liner in San Francisco?”
+
+“I greatly fear it was,” von Staden answered smilingly. “There is an
+old man who presides over the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation
+Company--”
+
+“You mean Cappy Ricks?”
+
+“I believe that is the name. He has a reputation for being at once the
+most reckless spendthrift and the most painstaking money saver in the
+world. He is always preaching economy--”
+
+“And well I know it. If he hadn't preached it, Captain Peasley would
+never have stood for this rabble your friends wished on me.”
+
+The supercargo chuckled. “We wanted the largest vessel we could find,”
+ he explained; “and when it was reported to us that the Blue Star
+Navigation Company's _Narcissus_ was going from San Francisco to the
+West Coast and thence to New York with nitrate, we decided to get her.
+We investigated you. Your name is Michael J. Murphy; naturally we knew
+you were Irish; and the Irish--your kind of Irish--are not sympathetic
+toward the cause of Merry England. The same held true of your chief
+engineer, Mr. Reardon. We knew of the passion of this interesting
+person, Cappy Ricks, for cutting down expenses. We knew you and Reardon
+were new to your jobs and would be likely to consider any reasonable
+plan for eliminating expense in your respective departments, in the hope
+of pleasing your employer. So the suggestion that you ship our people
+was made to you and Reardon, and you accepted it with alacrity. The rest
+was very easy. We got in touch with your New York agents through some
+friends of ours in very good standing there, and they were enabled to
+charter the ship merely by offering an extraordinary freight rate. They
+purchased the cargo of coal and sold it to us at a nice profit, and we
+depended on your national animosity and racial sympathy, seasoned with a
+liberal cash subsidy, to enable us to deliver it. We preferred to do
+the decent thing, but in the event that you proved unreasonable, we
+concluded it would be wise to have our own people aboard and take the
+vessel away from you. I admit we tried to trick you with the cablegrams.
+Why attempt to conceal the fact now? That was unsportsmanlike. However,
+if the fat is in the fire, as you Americans would say, you have put it
+there by forcing my hand.”
+
+“Very cleverly done,” quoth Michael J. Murphy. “I always admire brains
+wherever I find them.”
+
+“Men in my line of endeavor are trained to provide for all conceivable
+emergencies, captain. I think I provided for all of them in the case
+under discussion. Who, for instance, would conceive that you would
+have taken the trouble to call upon the American consul for the
+cipher message that has caused all this unpleasant row and facial
+disfigurement?”
+
+“You have read the translation, of course?”
+
+“Naturally.”
+
+“It is self-explanatory. You intend delivering my cargo somewhere
+off the south coast of Uruguay. May I be pardoned for expressing some
+curiosity as to your plans thereafter, my piratical friend?”
+
+“Please do not call me your piratical friend.”
+
+“Well, you're a pirate, aren't you?”
+
+“Legally--yes. Morally--no. In times of national necessity one's
+patriotism--one's duty to one's country--excuses, in the minds of all
+fair men, the commission of acts which ordinarily would bring about the
+deepest condemnation. I assure you that if we had had the faintest hope
+of doing business in a businesslike way with your owners, we should have
+been happy to pay almost any price for their ship, for she carries ten
+thousand tons of coal; and you surely must realize, Captain Murphy,
+how limited is the number of ships suitable for our purpose under the
+American flag. We were desperate--”
+
+“I believe Bethmann-Hollweg said something of the same nature with
+regard to Belgium,” Murphy replied blandly. “A nation fighting for its
+life is a law unto itself, eh?”
+
+“Self-preservation is the first law of human nature,” the supercargo
+replied.
+
+“All right. Then we understand each other. While I decline to terminate
+the war between August Carl von Staden and Michael Joseph Murphy,
+nevertheless under the law you have just cited I believe I'm entitled
+to breakfast. I'm starved. I figured on having supper ashore last night,
+but after I received that cablegram from my owners I forgot all about
+food. Now I'm remembering. I wish you'd send the steward in with about
+forty dollars' worth of spoon victuals. My grinders are very loose.”
+
+“Captain Murphy,” his jailer declared, “do you know you are a very
+wonderful man?”
+
+“All the Murphys are. It runs in the blood, like a wooden leg.”
+
+“I really regret that you are such a wonderful man. If you were not
+I'd give you the liberty of the ship. As it is, I crave your pardon for
+keeping you a prisoner in your state-room. The exigencies of war, you
+know.”
+
+“Don't mention it, Dutchy. For the second time I ask you: When you have
+delivered this cargo of coal, what do you intend to do with my ship?”
+
+“We will, in all probability, give you a new crew, and the present crew
+of the _Narcissus_ will go aboard one of our warships and thus remove
+themselves from the reach of a possible indictment for piracy and mutiny
+on the high seas.”
+
+“Where will you get a new crew for me?”
+
+“Our fleet has sunk a few British tramps in mid-ocean during the past
+sixty days. Naturally they removed the crews first. These prisoners are
+in our way, and the admiral will welcome an opportunity to load them all
+aboard the empty _Narcissus_, for even prisoners of war must eat,
+and the stores aboard our fleet are more valuable than these captured
+seamen. In obedience to that first law of human nature they will not
+object to working the _Narcissus_ into the nearest South American port.”
+
+“Well, that's comforting; but for heaven's sake don't be too much of a
+hog with my cargo. Leave me enough of it to carry my ship to the
+nearest port. She burns about thirty-five tons a day--you might get the
+statistics from Reardon.”
+
+“By all means, captain. Our capture of the _Narcissus_ is merely
+a deplorable national necessity. We would not lose her for you for
+anything.”
+
+“How about a British cruiser picking her up before we make connections
+with your fleet?”
+
+Herr von Staden shrugged. “That,” he replied, “would be the fortune of
+war.”
+
+“It would look like the picture of misfortune to me. And how about the
+freight on this cargo you've stolen? Don't my owners get something out
+of this deal to help pay expenses? You're going to play as fair as you
+can with me, aren't you, Dutchy?”
+
+“By all means. However, you are evidently in doubt as to the real
+situation. Your charterers are responsible to your owners for the
+freight money. If they do not pay it Mr. Cappy Ricks can sue them. As
+for the cargo, we have not stolen it, since one cannot steal that which
+one owns. We paid cash for this cargo before you cleared from Norfolk,
+for our go-between would take no risks whatsoever.”
+
+“I see. Well, I suppose I'll have to grin and bear it. By the way, don't
+forget to take back your blood money. It's in my trousers pocket.”
+
+Von Staden was genuinely distressed. “Are you quite certain you want
+me to do that?” he queried. “Five thousand dollars is quite a sum for a
+poor sea captain to toss aside so contemptuously. Why not accept it as
+compensation for that broken rib, and that bullet I put through your
+left shoulder, the dislocated right shoulder, the loose teeth and the
+split lip? In fact, I am so certain five thousand dollars will not cover
+your personal injuries I am willing to be a sport and add something to
+the sum.”
+
+Michael J. Murphy grinned--rather a horrible grin it was, owing to his
+swollen lip and jaw.
+
+“Dutchy,” he said, “listen to me: All the money in the world couldn't
+make me be untrue to my salt. And if you have any lingering notion that
+I'm not going to collect a million dollars' worth of satisfaction
+for the way you've acted aboard my ship, I can only say that as a
+fortune-teller you'll never earn enough money to keep yourself in
+cigarettes. You say you have been trained to provide for all conceivable
+emergencies, so I'm advising you, as a friend, to brace yourself for the
+surprise of your life before you're a week older. Have you pondered the
+possibility of sudden death aboard the S.S. _Narcissus?_”
+
+“Certainly. Should we be overhauled by a British cruiser I should take
+a short cut to eternity. One naturally dislikes the thought of being
+hanged for a pirate. It would be a reflection on one's family. As for
+sudden death by violence at the hands of any member of the crew of this
+steamship, I should be willing to risk quite a sum of money that no such
+tragedy will be enacted.”
+
+“Just why?”
+
+“Well, you'll be safe in this stateroom until I am ready to turn your
+command back to you, and a man with two shoulders in the condition
+of yours is hardly likely to try battering down this stout state-room
+door.”
+
+“Correct. And I'm a trifle too thick in the middle to think of crawling
+through the state-room window.”
+
+“And if,” the supercargo continued, “you have any idea of calling the
+engine-room on that speaking tube and soliciting aid from Mr. Reardon,
+please be advised that for the present Mr. Reardon has been relieved
+from duty in the engine-room.”
+
+“So you've got Reardon locked up, too?” Murphy queried. “Well! Well! I'd
+hate to think of being locked up and that man Reardon free. However, you
+need not have worried. I'd die before I'd ask that fellow for help--and
+he'd die before he'd give it.”
+
+“So I understand from the first mate. However, I thought it prudent
+to guard against a temporary truce and an alliance for the common
+interest.”
+
+“Dutchy,” said the skipper, “you're pretty smart.”
+
+Von Staden smiled most companionably. “I also took the precaution to
+remove some weapons from your apartment.”
+
+“Take anything from me, Dutchy, except my honor, my pipe and tobacco,
+and my ship. Take any one of those four, however, and may the Lord
+have mercy on your soul. Please hand me that book entitled _Backwood's
+Surgery_ till I see what's good for a broken rib; then send the steward
+for my breakfast order. After that--well, after that you might make your
+will, Dutchy.”
+
+“I did that in Pernambuco,” the delightful Herr von Staden replied, “so
+your advice is wasted.”
+
+He handed the skipper the book on surgery and went out, carefully
+locking the door behind him. He returned presently and stood beside the
+steward, who thrust his head through the state-room window and desired
+to know the captain's choice of breakfast.
+
+“A bowl of mush and milk, three soft-boiled eggs and a pot of coffee. No
+toast. Hurry!”
+
+When the steward returned with the order he was accompanied by Mr.
+Schultz, the first mate. The sight of the traitor threw Mike into a
+furious rage.
+
+“Mr. Schultz,” he said ominously, “the things I'm going to do to you
+would make the devil blush.”
+
+“So?” Mr. Schultz replied soothingly.
+
+“I'm going to hang von Staden. He's a pirate, and the rule of the Seven
+Seas is that a skipper hangs a pirate whenever he can lay hands on him.
+And you know me, Mr. Schultz. I'm a devil for etiquette aboard ship.
+As for you, you're only guilty of mutiny, so I'll content myself with
+tricing you up to the shrouds and flogging you with a cat soaked in
+brine.”
+
+And so on, _ad libitum, ad infinitum_.
+
+Mr. Schultz was frankly mystified. Being a German, he did not understand
+the Irish, although in view of the fact that during the war he had room
+in his head for but one thing--the Fatherland--perhaps the skipper might
+have pardoned his mate the glance of contempt and utter disgust which
+the latter now bent upon him. Here was a man, Mr. Schultz told himself,
+who, having stipulated his price and struck a bargain, had demonstrated
+beyond cavil that he was not a gentleman, for he had refused to stay
+bought. More, he had basely attacked his benefactor.
+
+“So?” he repeated.
+
+“Out, you blackguard, and leave me alone!” Murphy yelled.
+
+“It iss an order dot I stay und see dot der steward shall mayg no
+conversations vatsoefer,” Mr. Schultz declared firmly.
+
+“Verboten, eh?” sneered the skipper. He had once been to Hamburg, and
+naturally he had acquired the word most commonly used in the German
+language.
+
+“_Ja_,” Mr. Schultz replied placidly, but with an air of finality that
+left no room for further argument.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+In the course of the afternoon, having chewed the bitter cud of
+reflection and reviewed his situation from every possible angle, Mike
+Murphy came to the conclusion that, for all Terence Reardon's religious
+backsliding, he might be fairly honest in money matters and possessed
+of a sense of loyalty where his owners' interests were concerned. Also,
+having found Herr von Staden bluffing in one instance it occurred to the
+captain he might be discovered bluffing in another--so he resolved to
+investigate. Accordingly at an hour when he knew Terence should be in
+the engine room he took up the speaking-tube at the head of his bed and
+blew into it. But no shrill whistle signalled his desire in the engine
+room, and though Michael blew until he was red in the face and his lips
+hurt him cruelly, reluctantly he came to the conclusion that Herr August
+Carl von Staden had the situation very well in hand and Terence Reardon
+in the latter's state-room under lock and key.
+
+He was right in one particular: von Staden had the situation very well
+in hand, but he did not have Terence Reardon under lock and key. Murphy
+had been balked in making connections with the unsuspecting Terence for
+the reason that a little ball of cotton waste had very carefully been
+tucked into the engine-room howler a few inches at the back of the
+whistle at the chief's end of the tube. Hence, in the event that one
+sought to whistle up the other, he merely wasted his breath. Having
+learned, on the very excellent authority of both men in the case, that
+they despised each other and were not on speaking terms, von Staden
+decided that the chance of Terence Reardon's listening to Michael
+J. Murphy's tale of piracy and mutiny was so vague as to be almost
+negligible. However, he was painstaking and careful in all things and
+never ran any unnecessary risks; consequently, just to be on the safe
+side, he had instructed the first assistant to plug the speaking-tube
+leading to the skipper's room. And in order to discourage the captain
+from, seeking an interview with the chief, von Staden had told the
+former that the chief was a prisoner.
+
+Mr. Reardon was too important a personage to be deprived of his liberty
+when nothing was to be gained by such action. If he could be kept in
+ignorance of the state of affairs aboard the _Narcissus_, he would
+continue to attend to business; if the worst came to the worst
+his friendship would be a better asset than his hatred. If he grew
+suspicious and demanded a showdown, Herr von Staden would give it to him
+without reservation and stuff his mouth with gold; then, if the chief
+declined to listen to reason, it would be time enough to lock him up.
+While the supercargo would not hesitate to sacrifice his life, his
+liberty, or his honor for his country, he was nevertheless desirous of
+being a gentleman if accorded the opportuniby. And it must be admitted
+he had found Mr. Reardon amusing and vastly entertaining, for the very
+first night aboard, after Mr. Schultz had introduced him to the chief
+and he had presented the latter with a good cigar, Mr. Reardon, under
+the spell of the witchery cast by the sea and the night, had sat on
+deck and told the German wonderful tales of the fairies in Ireland--this
+while the skipper was ashore. In particular he told von Staden the tale
+of the fairy queen with the iron hand.
+
+“Her hand,” said Terence, “was as beautiful as ye'd find in a day's
+thravel, an' 'twas herself that'd dhrive men crazy afther wan look at
+her. An' she was good to the poor, but divii a bit av love did she have
+for a redcoat. Whin she'd take human form an' a bowld buck av a British
+dragoon would come making love to her, 'tis herself would say to him:
+'Captain, alannah, would ye oblige me wit' a dhrink av wather?' An'
+whin he turrned to dhraw the wather, she'd breathe on her hand--like
+that--an' immejiately 'twould turn to iron an' wit' wan blow she'd knock
+his brains out. Sure they found the bodies all over Ireland, but divil
+a man, woman, or child could they ever convict av the murrder. For why?
+Why, sure, the minute she'd killed a redcoat she'd breathe on her hand
+ag'in, an' immejiately 'twas flesh an' blood ag'in!”
+
+No, decidedly it would not do to imprison this excellent fellow. Von
+Staden had read fairy tales as a boy, but never had he met a man who
+could tell them like Terence Reardon. A hard-headed, highly intelligent
+chief engineer of a big tramp steamer telling tales of the fairies! Von
+Staden couldn't understand it. It was so childish--and yet there was
+nothing childish about Terence Reardon. The German wondered if Terence
+Reardon believed in the fairies and finally he asked him point-blank if
+he did; whereupon Terence turned a solemn eye upon him and replied:
+
+“Why, av course I do not. Do you think I'm a blubber-jack av a bhoy? But
+isn't it pleasant to talk about thim whilst wan has nothing betther to
+do? Sure, whin I'm lonely at night I think up new fairy tales to tell to
+the childhren whin I come home from a v'yage.”
+
+So that was the Irish of it! Strangely enough it did not occur to the
+practical German that an individual with an imagination like that,
+on such an expedition as the present, was the most dangerous person
+imaginable to be given the freedom of the ship.
+
+So passed twelve days and nights. Mr. Schultz kept in his pocket the key
+to the captain's state-room, and consequently was always present when
+the little cockney steward brought the prisoner his meals, tidied up the
+state-room and made up the captain's bed. The captain spent most of
+his time lying on his uninjured side and remained very quiet, for the
+fractured rib, which had received no attention, was causing him a great
+deal of suffering. Neither did the bullet wound in his shoulder heal
+cleanly, for the reason, unknown to the captain, that the bullet had
+carried with it into the muscle a fragment of Michael J.'s undershirt.
+
+However, his physical sufferings were as nothing compared with those
+he experienced mentally. He had hoped to be in fair fighting condition
+within a week at the latest. Wrapped in paper and tucked away in the
+back of the ship's safe he had a silver-hilted stiletto he had taken
+away from a cutthroat who had tried to rob him once in Valparaiso--and
+with this weapon he had planned to cut away the lock on the state-room
+door. And once outside--
+
+What Michael J. Murphy did not know was that when one has dislocated
+one's shoulder one will do very little wood-carving during the three
+subsequent weeks. It almost broke the skipper's heart to think he had
+made a threat in good faith, and was balked from making it good.
+
+During this entire period Mr. Reardon was going about his duties as
+usual, in absolute ignorance of the state of affairs about the ship, for
+he was an innocent, trustful sort of fellow, and to a born romanticist
+like Terence the fairy tale which Mr. Schultz had spun at breakfast
+the morning after leaving Pernambuco was not at all difficult of
+assimilation. It appeared--according to Mr. Schultz--that the skipper
+had gone ashore for a night of roystering, and upon returning to
+the ship about midnight, in a wild state of intoxication, had become
+involved in an altercation with the launchman over the fare. In the
+resultant battle the skipper, in his helpless condition, was being
+terribly beaten by the vicious Pernambucan; hence one could scarcely
+blame him for drawing a pistol and shooting the launchman--fatally,
+according to Mr. Schultz. Of course, after that, to have lingered longer
+inside the three-mile limit would have been sheer insanity, so Mr.
+Schultz, taking matters into his own hands, had uphooked and skipped
+with doused lights from the jurisdiction of the Pernambuco police.
+
+“And how did the skipper come out of all this?” Mr. Reardon had inquired
+anxiously.
+
+“He iss in rodden shape,” Mr. Schultz had declared. “Von of hiss angles
+vos brogen, und he vos cut mid a knive--preddy deeb, but noddings to
+worry aboud. Der only drouble iss der dooty of navigading der shib falls
+double on der segond mate und me.”
+
+“Make him pay ye over-time out av his own wages, the wurthless
+vagabone!” Mr. Reardon had urged. “May he walk wit' a limp for the
+rest av his days--bad cess to him! I've a notion, Misther Schultz, that
+lad'll never comb his hair grey.”
+
+Mr. Schultz nodded lugubriously; then he glanced up and caught the
+little cockney steward staring at him so balefully, that he realized he
+must have speech in private with the steward. Consequently he lingered
+at table until Mr. Reardon finished his breakfast and went below;
+whereupon Mr. Schultz intimated to the steward, in his direct blunt
+fashion, that for the remainder of the voyage, Riggins--for that was
+the steward's name--was to consider himself deaf, dumb and blind; the
+penalty for reconsideration within the hearing of Mr. Reardon being a
+swift and immediate excursion, personally conducted by Mr. Schultz, to
+Davy Jones's locker! Following this earnest exhortation, Riggins, never
+a robust person mentally or physically, came abruptly to the conclusion
+that this was one of those occasions where silence, if not exactly
+golden, was at least to be preferred to great riches.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+IT may appear strange that during the days and nights Michael J. Murphy
+lay on his bed of pain Terence Reardon did not once pass the little
+open window of the skipper's state-room. Not, however, that the latter
+watched for him, for he did not. He believed that Reardon, like himself,
+was a prisoner; although, had the chief passed the window and had the
+captain observed his passing, the complacence of Herr von Staden and his
+patriotic company would have received a jar much earlier in the voyage.
+
+Unfortunately, however, for Murphy's plans, the chief's stateroom was
+located in the after part of the house and on the side opposite the
+skipper's, and following their brief spat through the speaking-tube,
+Terence Reardon had confined himself exclusively to his engine-room
+and that portion of the ship along which he must of necessity pass when
+going to and from his state-room. He told himself it was the part of
+wisdom for one of his ferocious temper to avoid the occasions of sin.
+Certainly it would be hard to pass the skipper's state-room without
+looking in, particularly since in these warm latitudes the door would
+probably be open; for should the skipper be within at the time, they
+would peradventure scowl at each other, and he is a fool indeed who
+cannot foretell the future when a thousand generations of natural
+enemies exchange “the black look.” Terence remembered his boy Johnny, a
+youth who, according to Mrs. Reardon, should never be a marine engineer,
+but the finest lawyer that ever pouched a fat fee. And there was Mary
+Agnes and Catherine Bertram. Next year they would begin taking piano
+lessons, and in the fullness of time, no matter how hard the pull, both
+should go to the state university and acquire the education made to fit
+their father's head, but by force of circumstances denied him. And
+at the thought Terence looked at his hard black hands and set himself
+resolutely to face a life sentence of rattling ash hoists, roaring
+furnaces and the soft sucking sounds of the pistons. Two hundred dollars
+a month--and the union scale was a hundred and fifty! Ah, no, he dared
+not trifle with that job. He must, at all hazard, avoid friction with
+the skipper, for what would Mrs. Reardon say if Cappy Ricks forced
+him to roll the bones with Mike Murphy--one flop and high man out? Mr.
+Reardon could close his eyes and see Mike Murphy roll out a “stiff,”
+ while with trembling hand the Reardon rolled five sixes!
+
+The _Narcissus_ had been out of Pernambuco harbor four days before
+Mr. Reardon, upon comparing the sun--which all are agreed rises in
+the east--with the direction in which the ship was headed, and then
+extracting the cube root of the resultant product, and subtracting it
+from the longtitude and latitude of the Cape of Good Hope, decided that
+there must be something wrong with Mr. Schultz's navigation. So he spoke
+to Mr. Schultz about it, and was laughingly informed that they were
+traveling on a great circle. Thereupon Mr. Reardon remembered that at
+sea a ship traveling on the arc of a great circle, for some mysterious
+reason repudiates the old geometrical theorem that a straight line
+is the shortest distance between two points. He recalled that vessels
+plying between San Francisco and Yokohama describe a great circle which
+brings them well up toward the Aleutian Islands, So he was satisfied
+with the explanation, this being his first voyage into the South
+Atlantic anyhow; but he continued to observe the sun each morning, and
+still the vessel's head held far to the south. A suspicion that all was
+not as it should be slowly settled in Mr. Reardon's head, and though
+he said nothing, he used his ejes and ears. A dozen times a day, as the
+ship rolled steadily south, he was tempted to take down the speaking
+tube and confide his suspicions to the master, confined in his
+state-room by reason of deep--but not serious-knife wounds. Each time
+he was on the point of yielding, however, he remembered that Mike Murphy
+had called him a renegade--so he refrained.
+
+The installation of the wireless plant and the presence aboard the ship
+of Herr von Staden had failed to arouse his suspicions the first day
+out. True, the wireless could not have been connected with the electric
+light plant below without Mr. Reardon's knowledge and consent, but when
+he asked Mr. Schultz about it the latter replied that Cappy Ricks must
+have changed his mind about installing wireless on the _Narcissus_, for
+he had cabled to the agents of the charterers in Pernambuco to have
+a wireless plant and a competent operator waiting for the vessel upon
+arrival. It was Mr. Schultz's opinion that the owners had evidently
+arrived at the conclusion that it was wise to have a wireless aboard
+during war times. Personally, Mr. Schultz approved of the innovation.
+
+So did Terence Reardon, for that matter. He found the new wireless
+operator a charming fellow, possessed of talents far superior to those
+of the young men who ordinarily pound the brass at sea. Indeed, after
+the second day out, Mr. Reardon would have been heartbroken had anything
+happened to that wireless. For Herr August Carl von Staden sat at the
+key almost continuously, eavesdropping on the war news, and Mr. Reardon
+never came to the wireless room that the operator did not have some news
+of an overwhelming British defeat!
+
+As the voyage proceeded, however, and Mr. Reardon's mind grew a trifle
+uneasy, reluctantly he began to view Herr von Staden and the wireless
+with apprehension. He asked the affable operator how much the Marconi
+company charged the _Narcissus_ for his services and the rental of the
+wireless plant, and von Staden, momentarily stumped, replied that the
+tariff was two hundred dollars a month; whereupon Reardon knew he lied,
+for the charge is one hundred and forty. The German, realizing instantly
+that he was not on the target, added: “That is, for a first-grade
+operator and a plant like this. Of course we furnish cheaper operators
+and less powerful plants, Mr. Reardon.”
+
+“Oh! So that's the way av it?” the chief replied, and immediately went
+to his state-room for the purpose of thinking it over. Eventually he
+came to the conclusion that all was not as it should be, but that,
+nevertheless, it was no affair of his. He was paid to obey signals given
+him from the bridge.
+
+“'Tis no business av mine, afther all,” he soliloquized. “For why should
+I be puttin' dogs in windows? He's paid to navigate the ship, an' didn't
+Cappy Ricks tell me to mind me own business? And yet, there's something
+wrong in this ship. I feel it in me bones.”
+
+He felt it with a force that was almost violent when Mr. Schultz called
+down through the speaking-tube late one afternoon and told him to put
+her under a dead-slow bell. That meant they were practically heaving to,
+and steamers only heave to at sea in fine weather when they have reached
+a certain longitude and latitude and plan to keep an appointment. On the
+instant there was a strong odor of rat in Terence Reardon's engine
+room, but his “Very well, sir,” contained no hint of his surprise and
+suspicion. He gave his orders to the firemen to bank the fires, and when
+this had been done he informed his engine-room crew that they might
+all go on deck for five minutes and get a breath of fresh air. Nothing
+loath, they scrambled up the steel stairway--and the instant the last
+man was out of earshot Terence Reardon sprang to the speaking-tube to
+whistle up the skipper in his room.
+
+Now, undoubtedly the cool and calculating Herr August Carl von Staden
+had been carefully trained to take into consideration, when planning his
+strategy, every conceivable contingency that might possibly arise. It is
+probable that the German secret service never turned out a more finished
+graduate than Herr von Staden; but the fact remains, nevertheless, that
+there are certain contingencies over which no human being has control.
+One of these is Newton's law of gravitation; another, an equally
+immutable law to the effect that water will seek its own level; a third,
+the vindictiveness of an outraged Irishman; and a fourth, the very
+natural tendency of any man, not excepting Mr. Terence Reardon, to be
+profoundly surprised and intensely curious when certain phenomena, which
+we shall now proceed to explain, take place in the engine room where he
+is chief.
+
+Michael J. Murphy, having only the day before again essayed the task
+of whistling up the engine room, and having, by reason of the ball of
+cotton waste with which the tube had been plugged by the first assistant
+engineer, again failed to receive the courtesy of a reply from any one,
+had, to put it mildly, been annoyed.
+
+“Very well, my bullies,” he soliloquized as he hung up the tube, “you
+wouldn't speak to me when I wanted to speak to you; so now the first
+time one of you wants to speak to me I'll hand you a surprise, and
+I'll hand it to you right in the mouth.” And forthwith Michael J. had
+carefully poured down the speaking tube the contents of the basin in
+which he had just made his morning ablutions! He longed to do something
+nasty, and he succeeded admirably.
+
+As we have already remarked, water seeks its own level. It ran down the
+speaking-tube until it encountered the cotton waste plug; whereupon, due
+to the hydrostatic pressure, the plug gave way and was forced down to
+the tightly closed mouth of the tube, and the suds backed up behind
+it. It was pretty warm in the engine room, and most of the water had
+evaporated by the time Terence Reardon took down the looped tube and
+opened it for the purpose of putting his lips to the mouthpiece and
+blowing heartily through it. However, there was about a gill of water
+left in the tube.
+
+Now, as everybody knows, water running down a slope of seventy-five or
+eighty degrees comes rather fast. Consequently Mr. Reardon had no time
+to dodge.
+
+Why be squeamish? He got a mouthful and was very nauseated for half a
+minute. Also he cursed, we regret to record, and was very, very angry.
+Carefully he drained the devilish tube, wiped it clean with some fresh
+waste, and racked his brain for the right thing to say to Michael J.
+Murphy. Finally he hit upon something he concluded would about fill the
+bill, so he put his lips to the mouthpiece once more and whistled up
+the skipper. To his surprise, however, his breath didn't seem to get
+anywhere: in fact, it was directed back in his face rather forcefully;
+so he investigated and discovered the mouthpiece was only half open.
+Upon endeavoring to open it fully he sensed an obstruction in the back
+of it, so he unscrewed the mouthpiece and drew forth a ball of dirty,
+sour-smelling cotton waste.
+
+He gazed a moment in speechless wonder. Then: “I'll whistle that dirrty
+Tomfool, until he answers me in self-defense,” he announced'to the main
+motor, and forthwith blew a mighty blast. Almost instantly Michael J.
+Murphy yelled: “Hullo!”
+
+“Murphy,” Terence Reardon announced calmly and very distinctly, “you're
+a contimptible dhrunken ape!”
+
+“Holy Moses! Reardon, is that you?” the astounded Murphy demanded.
+
+“It is-as you'll discover whin you're able to come on deck an' give me
+the satisfaction I'll demand for the dirrty dab av wather an' cotton
+waste you put in the tube, knowin' that the firrst time I took it down
+to spheak to you, ye blackguard, in the line av djooty--which is the
+only reason I would spheak to you--I'd get it full in the mouth. Ye
+dirrty, lyin', schamin', dhrunken murrderer!”
+
+He paused to let that stream of adjectival opprobrium sink in. Silence.
+Then:
+
+“I poured the contents of my washbasin in the tube, I'll admit, but
+I did not plug it with cotton waste. One of your assistants did that,
+chief, and as for the water, as God is my judge, I didn't intend it for
+you--”
+
+“Who else would ye be afther insultin' if it wasn't me? Are ye not
+friendly wit' me assistants?”
+
+“Forgive me, Reardon, and listen to what I'm going to tell you.”
+
+And then the tale was told. When it was done Terence Reardon grunted.
+
+“I knew it!” he said. “I knew it! I felt in me bones there was something
+wrong aboard this ship. An' so ye were not dhrunk an' disordherly at
+Pernambuco?”
+
+“The liars! Did they tell you that? Reardon, it's only the mercy of
+heaven they didn't murder me. I'm lying here, helpless and crippled in
+my state-room, with the key turned in the lock. They've stolen my ship
+from me, and I can tell by the roll of her she's practically hove to
+under a dead-slow bell this minute. We've reached the rendezvous--we're
+waiting for the German fleet to deliver the coal; and oh, man, man,
+if we're caught by a British cruiser we'll lose the ship! They'll
+confiscate her, chief. Wirra! Wirra!” he cried, breaking into the
+forgotten wail of his childhood. “How can I ever face Matt Peasley and
+Cappy Ricks after this? Reardon, man, they'll think we stood in with
+the Germans and let them do it. We're both Irish--they know we're both
+pro-German--”
+
+“What's that you said?” Terence demanded sharply. “Me pro-German. Me? I
+_was_ pro-German--yis--wanst!”
+
+Fell a silence.
+
+Now, for the benefit of the uninitiated, be it known that there is
+a certain curse employed by the Irish and by no other race on earth.
+Whenever you hear an Irishman employ it, you know instantly--provided,
+of course, you are Irish yourself--just what kind of Irish that Irishman
+is. You cannot mistake it. There is no possible chance. It is only
+brought forth with the dust of the centuries on it, so to speak, to
+grace a fitting occasion. Terence Reardon felt that such an occasion
+was now at hand. As naturally, as inevitably, therefore, as the suds ran
+down the speaking-tube, that curse climbed up it--softly, distinctly,
+and with a wealth of feeling in the back of it:
+
+“God put the curse av Crummle on thim!”
+
+Mr. Reardon, of course, referred to the late Oliver Cromwell. Any one
+who has ever read the sorry history of Erin knows what the amiable
+Oliver did to the Irish. Consequently such an one will have no
+difficulty in estimating the precise proportions of bad luck Terence
+Reardon prayed might be the immediate heritage of the crew of the S.S.
+_Narcissus_.
+
+Michael J. Murphy blinked rapidly, for all the world as if Mr. Schultz
+had entered at that moment and struck him a terrific blow on top of
+the head. A more dazed Irishman than he never threw an ancient egg or
+a defunct cat at an alleged Celtic comedian with green whiskers. He
+was absolutely staggered--but not for long. The Irish come back very
+quickly.
+
+“Shame on you, Terence Reardon!” he declared. “And you with a Masonic
+ring on your finger.”
+
+“Glory be!” cried the delighted Terence. “Sure are you wan av us?”
+
+“One of you!” Mike Murphy fairly shrieked. “The minute I'm out of this
+room you'll apologize or fight for thinking I'm a renegade.”
+
+“_Naboclish!_” laughed Terence Reardon, slipping into the Gaelic and out
+again. “The divil a Mason am I! Sure that ring ye saw on me finger that
+day in the office av the owners belonged to me second assistant in the
+_Arab_. He'd lost it in the engine room, an' a mont' afther he'd left
+I found it. Not knowin' what ship he was in, 'twas me intintion to take
+the ring over to the Marine Engineers' Association an' lave it for him
+wit' the secreth'ry; and to make sure I wouldn't forget it I put it on
+me finger--”
+
+“Well, you knew, Terence, that with the likes of me round you'd not be
+liable to forget it,” Mike Murphy laughed.
+
+“As for you, ye divil,” Terence continued, “faith, what wit' yer English
+tweeds an' the fancy cut av thim, an' yer lack av the brogue an' the
+broad _a_ av ye, I thought, begorra, ye were a dirrty Far Down! God love
+ye, Michael, but 'tis the likes av you I'm proud to be ship-mates wit'.”
+
+“But you said you were from Belfast, Terence.”
+
+“So I am. I was borrn there, but me parents--the Lord 'a' merrcy on
+their sowls--moved back to Kerry.”
+
+“Terence!”
+
+“What is it, Michael, me poor lad?”
+
+“Do you ever drink on duty? I don't mean with your superiors--”
+
+The chief chuckled. He knew what Murphy was alluding to.
+
+“I do,” he replied, “wit' me equals.”
+
+“'Tis a pity, Terence, that man Schultz has the key to my state-room
+in his pocket. Now if you could manage to tap that Dutchman on the head
+with something hard and heavy, take the key out of his pocket and throw
+him overheard, you could let me out of this purgatory I'm in. Then I
+wouldn't be surprised if the sight of me and the absence of Mr. Schultz
+would put a bit of heart in that little cockney steward--and maybe he'd
+bring a drink to hearten you for what's ahead of you this night.”
+
+“An' what might that be, avic?” Terence demanded.
+
+“I want you to steal the ship back from them, Terence.”
+
+“Very well, Michael. 'Tis not a small thing ye ask me to do, but the
+divil a more willin' man could ye find to ask. Have ye figured out the
+plan av campaign? Sure what wit' the suddenness av it all I'm all in a
+shweat wit' excitement.”
+
+“You may be cold enough before morning, Terry, my boy.”
+
+“Bad luck to you, Michael! Dyin' is wan thing I cannot afford to do,
+although be the same token they tell me ould Ricks has a kind shpot in
+the heart av him for the widow an' the orphan--particularly av thim that
+dies in his service! As I say, I cannot afford to get kilt, but in
+back av that ag'in I cannot afford to lose the best job I ever had.
+An' afther all, 'tis a poor man that won't fight for a fine, kind
+gentleman--”
+
+“Damn the fine, kind gentleman! It serves him right for letting us
+get into this fix. He can afford the loss of the ship, but you and I,
+Terence Reardon, cannot afford the loss of our honor and self-respect.
+For the sake of the blood that's in us we can't afford to let a lot of
+Dutchmen steal our ship and cargo.”
+
+“Whist!” Reardon warned. “Hurry up. Me crew is comin' below ag'in.”
+
+“Make it a point to pass by my state-room window after dark. You'll find
+a scrap of paper on the sill. Help yourself to it.”
+
+“Faith, I will,” Mr. Reardon promised fervently, and the tube closed
+with a click.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+TERENCE Reardon's preparations for the night's work began the instant
+he hung up the speaking-tube. The _Narcissus_ carried three assistant
+engineers, in consequence of which Mr. Reardon was not required to stand
+a watch unless he so elected; although from force of habit acquired
+in the days when he had been chief of the _Arab_--a little
+three-thousand-ton tramp--and perforce had to stand a regular watch,
+he found it very difficult not to spend at least eight hours in
+every twenty-four in the engine room. When, eventually, he came to a
+realization that his job was not to make the engines behave, but to see
+that they behaved properly, he spent more of his time on deck, and
+put in only a few hours below during the watch of the third assistant
+engineer--the third assistant being a young man in whom the chief
+reposed exactly that degree of confidence a chief engineer should always
+repose in a third assistant. Mr. Reardon, therefore, was at liberty to
+leave the engine-room whenever he felt so disposed; and following his
+illuminating conversation with the captain he felt very much disposed to
+leave immediately.
+
+He went first to his state-room, where he bathed, changed into new
+under-clothes and socks, donned a freshly laundered suit of faded
+dungarees--old, faded, well-washed dungarees, by the way, always
+appearing neater and cleaner than new ones--and shaved; for if
+Providence willed it that lie should die to-night. Mr. Reardon was
+resolved to be in such a highly sanitary condition that “those upon whom
+should devolve the melancholy duty of laying him out”--which phrase, in
+the Hibernian sense, means those who should dispose his limbs, close his
+eyes, tie up his black jowls with a towel and fold his hands--alas,
+so white in death, at last! across his still breast--might be moved to
+remark that, notwithstanding the nature of the deceased's vocation, they
+could not recall ever having seen a cleaner corpse.
+
+Having attended to his pre-dissolution toilet, Mr. Reardon next sat
+in at his littered desk, swept a space clear of tobacco crumbs, ashes,
+pipes and some old copies of the _Cork Eagle_, and sat down to write a
+farewell letter to his wife, hoping that, even though his enemies should
+slay him, yet would they have sufficient respect for the dead to mail
+that letter to Mrs. Reardon. And, in order that he might not anger his
+posthumous benefactors, he mentioned nothing of the state of affairs
+aboard the ship. He merely stated that she might never see him again, in
+which event she was to call upon the owners and ask them to invest for
+her the proceeds of his life insurance policy, since they could and
+would invest it to better advantage than she. Then he spoke of his grief
+at the thought of the children being forced to forego their college
+education and suggested that she ask Cappy Ricks to give Johnny a place
+in his office; also, should the owners offer anything as compensation
+for the loss of her husband, she was to accept it, for, as God was
+his judge, she would be entitled to it! This last sentence Terence
+underscored for emphasis; that was as close as he came to saying that
+if he died it would be in defense of his owner's interest. Then he
+commended her to the comfort of her religion and subscribed himself:
+“Your loving and devoted husband, Terence P. Reardon, Chief Engineer
+S.S. _Narcissus_.”
+
+Having set his small affairs in order against a hasty exit from this
+vale of hatreds, Mr. Reardon, in unconscious imitation of all the
+condemned men who had preceded him on the voyage across the Styx,
+repaired to the dining saloon and partook of a hearty meal. He realized
+he had undertaken a contract that would require the employment of
+weapons more formidable than his hard fists, and devoutly he
+wished that, like the fairy queen, he had but to breathe on them to
+metamorphose them into pig iron. He pictured the slaughter aboard the
+_Narcissus_ when he should wade into the conflict. Finally he made up
+his mind that, in lieu of an iron hand or two, he would use his favorite
+monkey wrench, for he had no firearms whatsoever; although, had somebody
+presented him with a one-man machine gun with full directions for using,
+Mr Reardon would have recoiled in horror from it. Firearms were highly
+dangerous. They killed so many people!
+
+He left the table long before the others had finished. There was no one
+on deck as he emerged from the dining saloon, so he walked leisurely
+round past the captain's cabin, whistling the “Cruiskeen Lawn” to let
+Mike Murphy know who was coming. Evidently Michael assimilated the hint,
+for there was an envelope on the little window sill as Terence hove
+abreast of it. He snatched it swiftly away and continued round to his
+own state-room.
+
+The envelope contained Michael J. Murphy's plan for campaign worked out
+to the most minute detail, by reason of his absolute knowledge of the
+customs aboard the ship. Mr. Reardon read the remarkable document and
+sat lost in admiration; a twinkle leaped to his eyes and a cunning,
+rather deadly little smile came sneaking round the corners of his broad
+chin.
+
+“Arrah, but 'tis a beautiful schame,” he soliloquized. “Who but that
+lad could have t'ought av it? An' here I've been shpendin' the past two
+hours borrowin' trouble.”
+
+He read and reread the plan of attack, in order to familiarize himself
+with the details; then he held a match to the document and destroyed
+it. He considered a moment, and then performed a similar service to
+his farewell letter to Mrs. Reardon, for the chief engineer of the
+S.S. _Narcissus_, of San Francisco, had made up his mind not to
+die--to-night!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Mr. Schultz, the first assistant, and Mr. von Staden were engaged in
+coffee and repartee when Terence Reardon thrust his head in at the
+dining saloon window. He was mildly excited.
+
+“Be the Great Gun av Athlone!” he declared. “I've just been bit be a
+bedbug--an' I t'ought there wasn't a bedbug in the ship!”
+
+Mr. Schultz looked up, horrified. “Chieve,” he said, “dot is rodden
+news. Bedbugs! _Ach!_”
+
+“An' well you may '_Ach_,' Misther Schultz. Let a colony av bedbugs move
+into the _Narcissus_ an' Terence P. Reardon will move out. There's
+only wan thing to do, Misther Schultz, an' that is to tackle the divils
+before we're overwhelmed be the weight av numbers. Have ye a bit av
+sulphur in yer shtore-room, Misther Schultz--the kind that comes in
+balls an' is used to burrn in shtate-rooms to kill bedbugs?”
+
+When Terence Reardon put that innocent query to the first mate he knew
+very well Mr. Schultz would reply in the negative--which he did--for the
+reason that Michael J. Murphy had privately informed Mr. Reardon
+that the little cockney steward, Riggins, had charge of the bedbug
+ammunition. Riggins, who had been standing with his back against the
+wall, eyeing Mr. Schultz sourly, now spoke up and said he had some
+sulphur.
+
+“More power to ye, Riggins!” Mr. Reardon declared heartily. “Then do ye,
+like the good lad, give me two or three balls av it. I'll burn them
+in me shtate-room to-night, wit' the door an' window locked, an' be
+morrnin' sorra bedbug will be left alive.”
+
+“Very well, sir,” Riggins replied. “Might Hi arsk, Mr. Reardon, where
+you hintend passin' the night?”
+
+“I'll shleep in me auld aisy-chair abaft the house an' next the funnel,
+where I'll be snug an' warrm,” Mr. Reardon replied, for he desired an
+excuse to be on deck all night without arousing the suspicions of Mr.
+Schultz or von Staden.
+
+The steward, having finished serving those who ate in the dining saloon,
+stepped out on deck and started for his own room. Mr. Reardon remained
+by the window a minute, discoursing on the curse of bedbugs aboard a
+ship, and then with a sigh followed the steward leisurely. Mr. Schultz
+appeared undecided whether or not to accompany him in the capacity of
+censor, but finally concluded to remain and finish his coffee, for if
+Riggins had decided to enlighten the chief as to the real reason for the
+skipper's indisposition he had had frequent opportunity to do so during
+the past ten days. It did not seem likely, therefore, that he would run
+any risks at this late date. To Mr. Schultz, Riggins appeared to be
+a man who could be depended upon to remember which side his bread was
+buttered on and who supplied the butter.
+
+Arrived at the steward's state-room, Mr. Reardon helped himself to the
+entire box of bedbug exterminator and addressed Riggins very briefly:
+
+“Riggins, ye're a child av Johnny Bull, are ye not?”
+
+Riggins, without the slightest trace of embarrassment, admitted his
+disgrace.
+
+“An' bein' what ye are,” Mr. Reardon continued, “would ye do somethin'
+av great binifit to England?”
+
+Riggins replied that inasmuch as he had lost two brothers at the Battle
+of the Marne, that ought to indicate bally well where the Riggins tribe
+stood on the subject of defense of the realm.
+
+“Good!” Mr. Reardon murmured. “Even if misguided in their pathriotic
+motives, shtill yer brothers were brave min, an' for that I respect
+thim. Now, thin, Riggins, ye rabbit, listen to me: In a momint av
+surpassin' innocince Captain Murphy an' mesilf swallowed a cute
+suggestion from a lad whose back I'll break in two halves whin the
+_Narcissus_ gets back to San Francisco. 'Why not save expinse,' says
+he, 'an' ship the crew av this German liner that's interned over in
+Richardson's Bay?' Riggins, to make a long shtory short, we have thim
+this minute, an' the dear God knows that even if shipped at the
+German scale av wages that gang'll prove a dear crew to the Blue Star
+Navigation Company if you an' I, Riggins, fail to do our djooty. They've
+half murdered the captain, shtolen the ship an' cargo from him, an' run
+her t'ousands av miles off her course to deliver the coal to the German
+fleet.”
+
+“Oh, my bloody ol' Aunt Maria!” gasped the horrified Riggins.
+
+“What I want to know from you, Riggins, is this: Will ye help me
+shteal the ship back to-night? We're runnin' almost due south, an' that
+good-for-nothin' von Staden has been in communication wit' the fleet all
+day long. I feel it in me bones. If we get the ship back we'll head due
+west for the coast av South America an' hug the three-mile limit-an' the
+devil scoort them thin. Riggins, ye gossoon, what for the cause av Merry
+England? They wouldn't take ye for a gift in the British Arrmy, for I
+doubt if ye'd weigh ninety pounds soakin' wet an' a rock in yer hand,
+but for all that, here's an iligant opporchunity for ye to serrve yer
+counthry, an' should worrd av yer brave action reach the king--bad cess
+to him--he may call ye Sir Thomas Riggins an' make ye consul-general av
+the Cannibal Islands.
+
+“Out wit' it, Riggins. Yer king an' counthry calls ye, an' be the same
+token so do Michael J. Murphy an' Terence P. Reardon. What'll ye give,
+Riggins, to preserve the seas to Britain?”
+
+“Me 'eart's blood, that's wot!” Riggins replied quietly.
+
+“I accept the sacrifice in the name av His Majesty, King Jarge! Be on
+deck at ten o'clock sharp, waitin' close undher the shtarboard companion
+leadin' to the bridge. Whin I come out on the shtarboard ind av the
+bridge an' whistle 'O'Donnell Abu,' do ye--”
+
+“S'help me, chief, I never 'eard of the blighter before,” Riggins
+interrupted.
+
+“God forgive me!” Mr. Reardon murmured _sotto voce_. “I'll have to do
+it. Well, thin, Riggins, whin I come out on the shtarboard ind av the
+bridge an' whistle 'God Save the King'--troth, I'll gamble that's one
+blighter ye've hearrd tell av--do ye run up into the pilot-house an'
+take the wheel. I'll not whistle until we have the deck to ourselves,
+wit'out fear av intherruption, an' ye must come quick an' take the
+wheel, else the vessel'll fall off into the trough av the sea an'
+commince to wallow--which same'll wake up the second mate an' bring him
+an' von Staden on deck to see what's wrong wit' her. An' until I'm ready
+to call on those lads I'm not wishful to have them call on me! Remimber,
+Riggins: Wan jump an' ye're into the pilot-house; then howld her head
+up to the sea--an' lave the rest to me. Gwan wit' ye now, or that skut,
+Schultz, will be gettin' suspicious av us.”
+
+When Mr. Schultz came along ten minutes later he found Mr. Reardon very
+busy calking with oakum the cracks round the door and window of his
+state-room, through which little wisps of yellow smoke were curling.
+Mr. Schultz was so completely deceived that he hurried round to his own
+quarters and pawed over his own mattress and bedding in a vain search
+for bedbugs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+At eight o'clock Mr. Schultz relieved the second mate on the bridge,
+and five minutes later Terence Reardon, for the first time invaded that
+forbidden territory. “Bad cess to me!” he complained plaintively. “I'm
+the picthur av bad luck. I've a leaky connection below an' divil a bit
+av red lead. Could ye lind me a dab av red lead from yer shtore-room,
+Misther Schultz?”
+
+Mr. Schultz marvelled that any man could force his mind to dwell on red
+lead, leaky pipe connections, sulphur and bedbugs in a ship like the
+_Narcissus_ at a time like this. He had met a few innocents in his day,
+but this Irish engineer was most innocent of all.
+
+“Sure, Mike!” he replied, and grinned at his feeble play on words.
+“_Und_ as I gannot leave der bridge yet, here iss der key to der
+store-room. Helb yourself, mine _Freund, und_ den gif me der key back.”
+
+“Ye addie-pated son of sin!” Mr. Reardon soliloquized as he took the key
+and departed. “Faith, a booby birrd has more sinse nor you! D'ye suppose
+I didn't wait until ye were on djooty before axin' ye, well knowin' ye'd
+lind me the key an' I'd be alone in yer shtore-room!”
+
+Mr. Reardon was in the store-room less than two minutes. When he emerged
+he carried a daub of red lead on an old spoon, as Mr. Schultz, looking
+down on the dimly lighted main deck, observed. What he did not observe,
+however, was the chief's action in tossing the spoon overboard the
+instant he passed beyond the range of Mr. Schultz's vision. It is
+probable, also, that the mate would have been disturbed could he have
+seen Mr. Reardon in his state-room, with the door locked, removing from
+beneath his dungaree jumper several fathoms of light, strong, cotton
+signal halyard, two five-foot lengths of half-inch steel chain, and a
+strip of canvas. His pockets also gave up two padlocks, with keys to
+fit. This loot Mr. Reardon very carefully hid in the space under
+his settee, after which, with due thanks, he returned the key to Mr.
+Schultz.
+
+The remainder of the evening until nine-thirty Terence spent in the
+wireless room with Herr von Staden. Then he retired, very low in
+spirits, to his state-room, to make his preparations for wholesale
+assault with a deadly weapon--possibly wholesale murder! He cut the
+signal halyard into short lengths; then he cut the piece of canvas into
+strips about two inches wide and secreted the halyard and canvas strips
+here and there about his person. Then he descended to the engine room
+and selected his monkey wrench from the tool rack on the wall, helped
+himself to a handful of cotton waste, and returned to his state-room
+mournfully keening “The Sorrowful Lamentation of Callaghan, Greally and
+Mullen, killed at the Fair of Turloughmore.”
+
+“Wirra,” he murmured presently, “but 'tis a terrible thing to hit an
+unsuspectin' man wit' a monkey wrench! An' that divil von Staden,
+for all his faults, is not a bad lad at all at all. An' I'd give five
+dollars--yes, seven an' a half--if he were bald an' shiny on any other
+shpot save an' exceptin' the shpot I have to hit him. Ochone!
+
+
+   “'Come tell me, dearest mother, what makes me father shtay
+    Or what can be th' reason that he's so long away?'
+   'Oh, howld yer tongue, me darlin' son, yer tears do grieve me sore,
+    I fear he has been murdhered in the fair av Turloughmore!'
+
+
+“Sure, I haven't got the heart to dhrive the head av this monkey wrench
+into that bald shpot. If he'd hair there I wouldn't mind.” Mr. Reardon
+sighed dismally. “I'll have to wrap a waddin' av waste around me weapon,
+so I'll neither kill nor mangle but lay thim out wit' wan good crack--
+
+
+   “'It is on the firrst av August, the truth I will declare,
+    Those people they assimbled that day all at the fair,
+    But little was their notion that evil was in shtore,
+    All by the bloody Peelers at the fair av Turloughmore.'
+
+
+“I must practice crackin' the divils! Sure, 'twould be an awful thing
+to have the sin av murrder on me sowl--not that 'tis murrder to kill a
+Dutchman that's a self-confessed pirate into the bargain. Shtill, 'tis a
+terrible t'ought to carry to the grave--”
+
+Wham! Mr. Reardon brought his padded wrench down on his defenseless bed.
+“Too harrd,” he told himself. “Sure a blow like that on top av the
+head would knock out the teeth av the divil himself! Less horse-power,
+Terence!”
+
+Wham! He tried it again, this time with better results. For five minutes
+he beat the bedclothes; then his spirits rose and, like the mercurial
+Celt that he was, he chanted blithely a verse from “The Night Before
+Larry Was Stretched”:
+
+
+   “'Though, sure 'tis the best way to die,
+        Oh, the divil a betther a-livin'!
+    For sure whin the gallows is high,
+        Your journey is shorter to heaven;
+    But what harasses Larry the most,
+        An' makes his poor sowl melancholy,
+    Is to think av the time whin his ghost
+        Will come in a sheet to sweet Molly!
+            Oh, sure, 'twill kill her alive!'”
+
+
+He slipped the short, heavy monkey wrench up his right sleeve, walked
+out on deck and stood at the corner of the house, smoking placidly and
+gazing down on the main deck forward. The look-out on the forecastle
+head was not visible in the darkness, but Mr. Reardon was not worried
+about that. “For why,” he argued to himself, “should I go lookin' for
+the skut whin if I wait a bit he'll come fluttherin' into me hand?”
+
+He did. At five minutes after ten Mr. Schultz hailed the look-out in
+German, and although Mr. Reardon spoke no German, yet did he understand
+that order. Mr. Schultz, a victim of habit, desired the look-out to go
+to the galley and bring up some hot coffee for him and the helmsman. It
+was the custom aboard the _Narcissus_, as it is in most Pacific Coast
+boats, for the cook, just before retiring, to brew a pot of coffee,
+drain off the grounds and leave it to simmer on the galley range where,
+at intervals of two hours during the night, the watch could come and
+help itself.
+
+Terence Reardon knew that the look-out, after heating the coffee and
+bringing a few cups up on the bridge, would return to the galley and
+partake of a cup and a bite himself.
+
+The man came down off the forecastle head, crossed the main deck and
+disappeared in the galley. In about ten minutes Mr. Reardon saw him
+climb up the port companion to the bridge; a minute later he came down.
+Mr. Reardon waited until he was certain the fellow was sipping his
+coffee in the galley; then with the utmost nonchalance he went up on the
+bridge and hailed Mr. Schultz, who was standing amidships blowing on a
+cup of coffee.
+
+“Begorra,” he complained, “Divil a wink can I shleep to-night. I've been
+sittin' wit' the wireless operator all evenin', an' now, thinks I,
+he's weary listenin' to me nonsinse, so I'll go up on the bridge an'
+interview Misther Schultz. If I--be the Rock av Cashel! What was that?”
+
+“Vot? Vere?” Mr. Schultz exclaimed, and set down his cup of coffee.
+He was all excitement, for he had been looking for the flash of a
+searchlight for the past hour and he wondered now if the unsuspecting
+Reardon had seen it first.
+
+“Over that way.” Mr. Reardon pointed off the port bow. “Did ye not see
+that light?”
+
+“A light. _Gott im Himmel!_”
+
+“Ye can't see it now,” Mr. Reardon replied soothingly. He stepped round
+to the back of the mate and permitted his trusty monkey wrench to slip
+down into his hand. “But if ye continue to look in that direction,
+Misther Schultz, ye'll see not wan light but several.”
+
+“_Donnerwetter!_ I gannot see dem,” Mr. Schultz protested, wondering if
+there might not be some defect in his eyesight.
+
+“Have no fear. Keep lookin' that way an' ye'll see thim,” Mr. Reardon
+reassured him. “Ha-ha, ye divil!” he crooned--and struck.
+
+“I'll gamble ye saw the lights I promised ye,” he breathed into the ear
+of the unconscious mate as he deftly caught the falling body and
+eased it noiselessly to the deck to avoid calling the attention of the
+helmsman to the interesting tableau going on behind him. Quickly he
+gagged Mr. Schultz with a strip of canvas; then he tied his hands behind
+him and bound him at ankle and knee with the short lengths of signal
+halyard. As a final attention he “frisked” the mate and removed his keys
+and a heavy automatic pistol.
+
+“Lie there now, me jewel,” he said, and trotted out to the starboard
+end of the bridge, whistling shrilly “God Save the King.” When the swift
+patter of feet along the deck warned him that the steward was coming, he
+walked back amidships and opened the little sliding trap in the roof of
+the pilot-house, which on the _Narcissus_ was set just below the bridge.
+The quartermaster's head was directly beneath the trap. “Oh-ho, me
+laddybuck!” Mr. Reardon murmured, and dropped his padded monkey wrench
+on that defenseless head. Instantly the quartermaster staggered and hung
+limply to the wheel.
+
+“Bad luck to me, I'll have to hit ye agin,” Mr. Reardon complained--and
+did it. Then he slid through the trap into the pilot-house, steadied the
+wheel with one hand and unlocked the pilot-house door with the other to
+admit the steward.
+
+“Strike me pink!” that astounded functionary exclaimed as he gazed at
+the quartermaster lying beside the wheel.
+
+“I will--if ye don't take howld av this wheel an' do less talkln',” Mr.
+Reardon replied evenly. “Bring her round very slowly, me lad, an' in the
+intherval I'll wrap up me little Baby Bunting on the floor forninst ye.”
+
+When the quartermaster had been duly wrapped _a la_ Mr. Schultz and
+dragged clear of the wheel, Mr. Reardon returned to the bridge and with
+brazen impudence set the handle of the marine telegraph over to full
+speed ahead. He hummed “Colleen Dhas Cruthin Amoe” as with a light heart
+he skipped down to the galley and found the look-out eating bread soaked
+in coffee. Mr. Reardon nodded and said “Good nicht, _amigo_” for his
+voyages had taken him to many ports and he was naturally quick at
+picking up foreign languages. The fellow, concluding Mr. Reardon desired
+a cup of coffee also, turned to the rack to get him a cup.
+
+“How dare ye ate up the owners' groceries in this shameful manner?” Mr.
+Reardon demanded. “Do ye not get enough at mess that ye must be atin'
+between meals? Shame on you--”
+
+One tap did the trick. “'Tis a black way to repay a kind t'ought,” Mr.
+Reardon observed to his victim as he bound and gagged him; “but war is
+war, an' a faint heart an' a weak stomach never shtole a ship back from
+forty German pirates!”
+
+He closed the galley door on the unfortunate look-out and climbed up
+on the boat deck to get Michael J. Murphy out of prison. Cautiously he
+unlocked the state-room door with the key taken from Mr. Schultz, and
+the skipper came forth. Mr. Reardon led him under an electric light and
+gazed upon him wonderingly.
+
+“Begorra, Michael, me poor lad,” he whispered, “be the look av the white
+face of you I'm thinkin' ye ought to be in bed instid av out raisin'
+ructions.”
+
+“I'm weak; I have a fever,” Murphy replied. “Still, half that fever may
+be plain lunatic rage. Did you find a gun on the mate?”
+
+“I did. Take it, Michael, I'll have nothin' to do wit' it.”
+
+The skipper grasped the weapon eagerly. “The ship is headed due west
+undher full speed,” Terence explained, “an' the mate, the quarter-master
+an' the look-out have all received evidence av me affectionate regard.
+Next!”
+
+“Von Staden. He kicked me and broke my ribs, Terence.”
+
+“Wit' the greatest joy in life, Michael. The skut's busy in the wireless
+room.”
+
+So they went to the wireless room. Von Staden was taking a message as
+they entered; at sound of their footsteps he turned carelessly and found
+himself looking down the muzzle of the captain's automatic.
+
+“Will ye take it peaceably, ye gossoon, or must I brain ye wit' this
+monkey wrench?” Mr. Reardon queried fiercely.
+
+“And take your hand off that key, you blackguard. No S O S,” Murphy
+ordered.
+
+The supercargo stared at them impudently. “This,” he said presently, “is
+one of those inconceivable contingencies.”
+
+“Your early education was neglected, Dutchy. However, don't complain and
+say I didn't give you warning. Terence!”
+
+“What is it, Michael?”
+
+“All well-regulated ships carry a few sets of handcuffs and leg irons.
+If you will put your hand in my right hip pocket, Terence, lad,
+you'll find a pair for present emergencies. They were in my desk and I
+concluded to bring them along.”
+
+“An' a pious t'ought it was, Michael.”
+
+So they handcuffed Herr August Carl von Staden and gagged him, after
+which Mr. Reardon, leaving the skipper to guard his prisoner, ran round
+to his own room and got the two lengths of chain and the padlocks. When
+he returned, Michael J. Murphy kicked his unwelcome supercargo to the
+mate's store-room and Mr. Reardon locked him in among the paint pots,
+pipe, old iron and other odds and ends which accumulate in a mate's
+store-room.
+
+They went next to the door of the forecastle. It was open--and, what was
+better, it opened inward. Also, it was of steel with a stout brass ring
+on the lock, this ring taking the place of what on a landsman's door
+would have been a knob.
+
+Terence Reardon and Michael J. Murphy listened. From within came a
+medley of gentle sighs, snores and the slow, regular breathing of
+sleeping men. Softly Mr. Reardon closed the door, turned the ring until
+the latch caught, drew a section of chain through the ring in such a
+manner as to prevent the latch from being released, passed the ends of
+his chain round the steel handrail along the front of the forecastle and
+padlocked them there.
+
+“Now, thin,” Mr. Reardon announced, “that takes care av the carpenter,
+the bos'n, four seamen, two waiters an' the mess bhoy. Do ye wait here
+a minute, Michael, lad, whilst I run up on the bridge and give that
+unmintionable Schultz the wanst over.”
+
+The weak, half-dead Murphy sat down on the hatch coaming and waited.
+The chief was away about ten minutes and the captain was on the point of
+investigating when Mr. Reardon appeared.
+
+“That unfortunate divil had come to, an' was lookin' an' feelin' cowld
+whin I wint up on the bridge,” he explained, “so I wint to me room an'
+got a pair av blankets to wrap round him where he lay. It's wan thing
+to tap a man on the head, but 'tis another to let him catch his death av
+cowld.”
+
+Captain Murphy smiled. Ordinarily he would have laughed at the whimsical
+Terence, but he didn't have a good laugh left in him. His lung was
+hurting, so he suspected an abscess.
+
+They returned to the boat deck, and with his rule Mr. Reardon carefully
+measured the exact distance between the ship's rail and the center
+of the doors of the state-rooms occupied by the mates and assistant
+engineers. This detail attended to, they went to the carpenter's
+little shop and cut two scantlings of a length to correspond to the
+measurements taken, and in addition Mr. Reardon prepared some thin
+cleats with countersunk holes for the insertion of screws. He worked
+very leisurely, and it was eleven o'clock when he had everything in
+readiness.
+
+“There's nothin' to do now until midnight, whin the watch in the ingine
+room is changed,” Mr. Reardon suggested, “so lave us go to the galley.
+Wan av me brave lads is in there, an' if he's not dead intirely, faith,
+I'm thinkin' I might injoy a cup av coffee!”
+
+So they went to the galley and found the look-out glaring at them. He
+made inarticulate noises behind his gag, so Mr. Reardon, much relieved,
+found seats for each of them and poured coffee. Then he filled his pipe,
+crossed his right leg over his left knee and puffed away. He was the
+speaking likeness of Contentment. And well he might be.
+
+The first assistant engineer had been driving the _Narcissus_ for an
+hour at full speed at right angles to the course he believed she was
+pursuing. He would, being totally ignorant of the change of masters,
+continue to drive her at full speed until midnight, when he would come
+off watch, tired and sleepy, and go straight to his state-room. The
+second assistant would go direct from his state-room to duty in the
+engine-room and continue to drive the _Narcissus_ at full speed until
+four o'clock, and inasmuch as it would be quite dark still when the
+third assistant came on at four o'clock to relieve the engineer on
+watch, there was not the slightest doubt in the minds of Murphy and the
+chief but that the deception could go on until breakfast. However, that
+would interfere with their plans. Long before that hour the men locked
+in the forecastle would have discovered their plight, and the noise of
+the discovery might reach below decks and bring up, to investigate,
+just a few more husky firemen and coal passers than even the redoubtable
+Terence Reardon could hope to cope with successfully.
+
+“By four o'clock we'll be more than fifty miles off the course Schultz
+was holding her on,” the captain suggested. “In all likelihood the
+German admiral wirelessed his last position and the course he was
+steering, and von Staden gave Schultz his course accordingly.”
+
+“Faith, we're not a moment too soon at that,” Mr. Reardon replied.
+“Schultz was lookin' for searchlights whin I tapped him. Be the Toe
+Nails av Moses ye're right, Michael. We'll be so far off that course be
+daylight they won't even see our shmoke. D'ye think that little handful
+av bones, Riggins, can manage the wheel until we've claned up the
+ingine-room gang? We can relieve him wit' wan av the Chinamen then.”
+
+“Tell him he'll have to stick it out. And by the way, Terence, come to
+think of it, you had better run forward and remove the sidelights; then
+unscrew all of the incandescent lamps on deck until the contact is lost.
+You can screw them in again just before the watch is changed, so they
+won't suspect anything, and unscrew them again after we have the watch
+under lock and key. The fleet may be too far away to see our smoke by
+daylight, but they may be close enough to see our lights to-night! Tell
+Riggins to darken the pilot-house. The binnacle light is enough to keep
+him company.”
+
+“Thrue for ye,” Terence replied, and hurried away to carry out Murphy's
+instructions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+At twelve o'clock the second assistant engineer, hurrying along the deck
+to relieve the first assistant on watch, found Mr. Reardon leaning
+over the rail meditatively puffing his old briar pipe. In answer to the
+former's query as to what kept the chief up so late, the latter replied
+that he was burning sulphur in his room to kill bedbugs.
+
+“The good Lord forgive me the lie,” he prayed when a few minutes later
+he was called upon by the first assistant, hurrying off watch, to repeat
+the same tale.
+
+The first assistant and his watch had a shower-bath and turned in. They
+were not interested in the workings of the deck department in the dark;
+they could not know that the vessel's course had been changed; they
+thought only of getting to sleep. Mr. Reardon waited until one-thirty
+A. M. to provide against possible sleepless ones, and then crept aft on
+velvet feet. The _Narcissus_ had very commodious quarters in her stern,
+where her coolie crew had been housed in the days when she ran in the
+China trade; and when the Blue Star Navigation Company took her over
+these quarters had been fitted up to accommodate the engine room crew.
+In the same manner, therefore, that he had imprisoned the men of the
+deck department in the forecastle, Mr. Reardon now proceeded to imprison
+the men of the engine department in the sterncastle. This delicate
+mission accomplished, he went up top-side and measured the diameter
+of the ventilators, in order to make certain that the thinnest of his
+German canaries could not fly the cage via that difficult route. Having
+satisfied himself that he had no need to worry on this score, he made
+his way forward again.
+
+“Well, Michael, me poor lad,” he announced as he rejoined the skipper,
+“I'll tell you wan thing--an' it isn't two. The crew av the _Narcissus_
+off watch at this minute will never come on watch ag'in--in the
+_Narcissus_.”
+
+The skipper smiled wanly. “I'm sorry you must take all the risks and do
+all the work, Terence,” he replied.
+
+“Gwan wit' ye, Michael. Sure if I had a head on me like you, an' a
+college edication in back av that ag'in, I'd be out playin' golf this
+minute wit' Andhrew Carnegie an' Jawn D. Rockefeller--ayther that, or
+I'd have been hung for walkin' away wit' the Treasury Buildin'.”
+
+They discussed the remaining details of that portion of the ship
+cleaning still before them. “Remember, Terence,” Mike Murphy warned the
+chief, “when the blow-off comes at four o'clock and the uproar commences
+fore and aft, we have the means to keep them quiet. I'll go forward
+and you go aft. When we threaten to throw burning sulphur down the
+ventilators and suffocate them, they'll sing soft and low!”
+
+Mr. Reardon chuckled. “An' Schultz t'ought I was afther bedbugs whin
+I asked the shteward for the sulphur,” he replied. “Shtill an' all,
+Michael,” he added, a trifle wistfully, “I could wish for a bit more
+excitement, considerin' the size av the job.”
+
+“Don't worry, Terry, you may get it yet. I'm dizzy and weak, chief; I'm
+fearful I'll not be able to last out the night--and these Germans are
+desperate. Suppose we go forward now, while I'm able, and awaken Mr.
+Henckel. It's high time he relieved Mr. Schultz, and he'll be waking
+naturally if we let him oversleep much longer.”
+
+The subjugation of Mr. Henckel was accomplished without the slightest
+excitement or bloodshed. Mr. Reardon rapped at his door and Mr. Henckel
+replied sleepily in German. The skipper and the chief merely lurked,
+one on each side of his state-room door, until he stepped briskly out;
+whereupon the captain jabbed him with the gun while Mr. Reardon shook
+the monkey wrench under his nose. Indeed, Mr. Reardon had the gag in the
+second mate's mouth even while it hung open in surprise. They bound him
+hand and foot, and Mr. Reardon picked him up and tucked him gently in
+his berth, for, as the chief remarked to him, he was as safe there as
+anywhere and far more comfortable, although Mike Murphy objected and was
+for putting him in the mate's store-room with von Staden, whom they had
+put in the dirtiest and most unwholesome spot aboard the _Narcissus_,
+for two reasons: In the first place, he had kicked Michael J. Murphy
+and shot him through the shoulder; and in the second place, he was the
+cleanest German and the most wholesome pirate they had ever seen,
+and they figured the contrast would annoy him. Mr. Reardon, however,
+objected to this plan. He argued that von Staden would be glad of Mr.
+Henckel's company, and was it not their original intention to keep that
+laddybuck von Staden in solitary confinement? It was. They closed the
+state-room door on Mr. Henckel, and left him to meditate on his sins
+while they repaired to the carpenter's little shop, to return to the
+boat deck presently with the scantlings and cleats Mr. Reardon had
+prepared.
+
+With the scantling the chief shored up the doors to the state-room
+occupied respectively at the time by the first and third assistant
+engineers; then he screwed the cleats into place at top and bottom, so
+the scantling could not slip. Not for worlds would he have used a hammer
+to nail them into place, for that would have spoiled the surprise for
+the objects of his attentions. Throughout the entire operation he was
+as silent as a burglar, although by way of additional precaution the
+captain stood by with drawn pistol.
+
+“Now thin, Michael,” Mr. Reardon whispered as they pussy-footed away,
+“there are six fine Germans below in the ingine room, an' two Irishmen
+an' half an Englishman on deck. The Chinee cooks don't count, for sure
+the poor heathens would only get excited and turrn somebody loose if
+we asked them to do anything desperate. And, as ye know, wan good
+Irishman--and bad luck to the man that says I am not that--can keep a
+hundhred Germans from comin' up out av that ingine room. Go to yer bed,
+Michael, an' lie down until I call ye.”
+
+“Better take this automatic,” Murphy suggested, and showed him how to
+use it.
+
+But Mr. Reardon resolutely refused to abandon his monkey wrench,
+although he consented to carry the automatic to Riggins in the
+pilot-house. The estimable Riggins had been steering a somewhat erratic
+course, for he found it impossible to keep his eye on the lubber's mark
+while the bound quartermaster glared balefully at him from the floor.
+Indeed Riggins had been pondering his fate should that husky Teuton ever
+get the upper hand again; hence, when he found himself in a state of
+preparedness and was informed that he must stick by the wheel until
+relieved, the prospect did not awe him in the least. The present odds
+were counterbalanced by the strategic position held by the minority, and
+Riggins was content.
+
+On his way back to his state-room, there to rest until the final call
+to arms, Michael J. Murphy concluded it would be well to search the
+quarters of the second mate and Herr von Staden for contraband of war.
+So he did, with the result that he unearthed in von Staden's room the
+rifle and revolver which belonged to the _Narcissus_, and under the
+second mate's pillow he found another automatic pistol. He confiscated
+all three weapons by right of discovery, and hid the rifle in the
+galley, the last place anybody would think of looking for it.
+
+In the meantime Mr. Reardon proceeded further to strengthen his position
+by closing the port entrance to the engine room and shoring up the door
+with a stout scantling, cleated at top and bottom to hold it securely in
+place. Then he donned Mr. Schultz's heavy watchcoat, dragged round
+from the lee of the house the upholstered easy-chair Mrs. Reardon had
+insisted upon his taking to sea with him for use in his leisure moments,
+placed this chair on deck just outside the starboard entrance to the
+engine room, loaded his pipe, laid his trusty monkey wrench across his
+knee and gave himself up to the contemplation of this riot we call life.
+He resembled a cat watching beside a gopher hole. By half-past three
+o'clock he had finished figuring out approximately the amount of
+money Mrs. Reardon would have in the Hibernia Bank at the end of five
+years--figuring on a monthly saving of fifty dollars and interest
+compounded at the rate of four per cent. So, having satisfied himself
+that Johnny would yet be a lawyer and the girls learn to play the piano,
+Mr. Reardon heaved a sigh and reluctantly went to call Michael J. Murphy
+for the final accounting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+At ten minutes to four Mr. Uhl, the second assistant, a man of some
+thirty years and ordinarily possessed of a disposition as placid as that
+of a little Jersey heifer, ordered one of his firemen to go and call the
+watch to relieve them. Mr. Reardon, his monkey wrench firmly grasped in
+his right hand, knew that at exactly ten minutes to four Mr. Uhl would
+issue that order--so he was on the spot to receive the fireman as
+the latter came leisurely up the greasy steel stairway. As the fellow
+emerged on deck he paused to wipe his heated brow with a sweat rag
+and draw in a welcome breath of cool fresh air. He did not succeed in
+getting his lungs quite full, however, for Michael J. Murphy, lurking
+beside the door, thrust the barrel of his gun in the fireman's ribs,
+effectually curtailing the process of respiration practically at once.
+From the other side of the door the chief engineer stepped out and
+wagged his bludgeon under the fireman's nose.
+
+“_Ach!_” Mr. Reardon coughed, and grimaced pleasantly. “_Schmierkase und
+Sauerkraut_, ye big shtiff! _Vat wilse du haben_, eh? _Zwei bier?_ Damn
+the weather, as Misther Schultz would say.”
+
+He laid his finger on his lips, enjoining silence; then with the same
+finger he pointed sternly onward, and the fireman took the hint. In the
+clear space aft the house and next to the funnel Mr. Reardon bound and
+gagged him and laid him tenderly on his back to await developments.
+
+“Now thin, Michael,” he said to the skipper, “lave us go back an' see
+can we catch another. At four o'clock, whin this lad fails to return,
+Misther Uhl, the omadhaun, will sind up another man to see what the
+divil ails the firrst man.”
+
+And it was even so. This time it was the oiler.
+
+At five minutes after four a coal passer came up the stairs, and he was
+swearing at the delay in being relieved. Something told Mr. Reardon this
+fellow would make trouble, so without warning he hit the coal passer a
+light rap “to take the conceit out av him.” Two minutes later the coal
+passer had joined his fellows beside the funnel.
+
+At a quarter after four Mr. Uhl scratched his head and said something
+very explosive in German. He started up the stairs, got halfway up--and
+came down. It had occurred to him very suddenly that three men had
+already gone up the stairs and had failed to return. He called a fireman
+and gave him some very explicit orders in German; whereupon the man
+disappeared in the shaft alley. Five minutes later he returned, pop-eyed
+with excitement and the bearer of a tale that caused Mr. Uhl to arch his
+blond eyebrows and murmur dazedly “_So?_”
+
+Ten minutes passed. Mr. Reardon glanced interrogatively at Michael J.
+Murphy. “I think the divils are suspicious,” he whispered. “We should
+have had another be now. Have a care now, Michael. Whin they come they
+come wit' a rush an'--”
+
+A pistol shot echoed through the ship. It came up from forward. Three
+more followed in rapid succession--a scream--a shout!
+
+“May the divil damn me!” Terence Reardon cried in a horrified voice. “I
+clane forgot the little companion hatch at the ind av the shaft alley.
+They've crawled down the shaft alley an' up on deck at the very sterrn
+av the ship!”
+
+He dashed aft towards the spot where his prisoners were laid out close
+to the funnel. As he turned the corner of the house he observed that the
+electric lamp which he had so carefully screwed out of its socket had
+been screwed in again, and by its light Terence beheld no less a person
+than Mr. Uhl cutting the halyards that bound the oiler. The fireman had
+already been cut loose, but the potent effects of Terence Reardon's blow
+with the wrench still remained; though conscious, the man was unfit for
+combat. The coal passer, evidently the first man to be rescued by Mr.
+Uhl, was standing by.
+
+“Gower that, ye divils!” Mr. Reardon shrieked, and charged, swinging his
+monkey wrench with all his horsepower. He missed his first stroke at
+Mr. Uhl, who very deftly stabbed him high up on the hip for his
+carelessness; then the chief swung again, and Mr. Uhl was out of the
+fight.
+
+Not so the big coal passer, however. He planted in Terence Reardon's
+face as pretty a left and right--hay-makers both--as one could hope to
+see anywhere outside a prize-ring; whereupon the chief took the count
+with great abruptness. The fireman reached for the monkey wrench--and at
+that instant the weak, pale-faced skipper lurched around the corner of
+the house and his automatic commenced to bark.
+
+It was not a time for sentiment. Michael J. Murphy glanced once at
+Terence Reardon's bloody, upturned face, and the glazed eyes thrilled
+him with horror. The chief engineer was dead! That meant that Michael J.
+Murphy would soon be dead, too. Well, they had fought a good fight and
+lost, so nothing now remained for him to do save slaughter as many of
+the enemy as possible and go to his accounting like a gentleman.
+
+He turned his back on the heap of bloody, prostrate men, stepped over a
+little rivulet of gore that ran rapidly toward the scupper as the
+ship heeled to port, then hesitated and started back as she heeled
+to starboard. He was vaguely conscious that Mr. Uhl had shut down his
+engines before coming on deck and that in consequence the ship had lost
+headway and was beginning to wallow. In his weak state her plunging
+caused him to stagger like a drunken man. As he crossed to the port side
+of the ship and gazed down the deck he noticed that the incandescent
+lamps had all been screwed back in their sockets, and by their brilliant
+light he beheld one of the firemen in the act of removing the scantling
+from before the first assistant's door. Just as the door swung open the
+captain fired, but evidently missed, for the man sprang nimbly into the
+state-room for safety.
+
+If the great European War has proved nothing else to date, it has
+demonstrated one comforting thing about the German people: one does not
+grow impatient waiting for them to carry the fight to him. The fireman
+had no sooner entered the first assistant's state-room than the first
+assistant came out. He was wearing his pajamas and a piece of young
+artillery, and without the slightest embarrassment he commenced shooting
+at Michael J. Murphy, who, not to be outdone in politeness while he
+could stand and see, promptly returned the compliment.
+
+The first assistant's first shot nipped a neat little crescent out of
+Mike Murphy's large red right ear; his second ripped clean through the
+inside of the skipper's left leg.
+
+“High and then low,” was the thought that capered through Mike Murphy's
+brain. “God grant he don't get me through the middle! That's what comes
+of fast shooting--so I guess I'll go slow.”
+
+The electric lamp over his head was shattered and the fragments
+scattered round him as he leaned against the corner of the house and
+took careful aim at the first assistant, who missed his next shot by a
+whisker and died in his tracks with two cartridges still in his gun.
+
+Dazedly Michael J. Murphy advanced along the deck, stepped over the body
+and entered the state-room. In the corner the fireman crouched, hands
+uplifted in token of surrender, so the skipper closed the door and
+shored it up again with the scantling. Mechanically he picked up the
+first assistant's huge revolver, broke it, removed the cartridges and
+threw them overboard. Then he slipped a clip of seven cartridges into
+his automatic and staggered round to Mr. Henckel's state room.
+
+The door was open. The bird had flown.
+
+Michael J. Murphy went in and sat down on Mr. Henckel's settee, for
+he was very weak and dizzy; and at least nobody could shoot at him in
+there. “Come, come, Michael,” he croaked, “no going out this voyage. You
+have work ahead of you. Pull yourself together and let us count noses.
+Now then, there were two firemen, two coal passers, one oiler and Mr.
+Uhl on watch. Terence killed Mr. Uhl with the monkey wrench, I killed
+the big coal passer, I think I killed the oiler, and one fireman was out
+of the scrap from the beginning. Then I killed the first assistant and
+locked the other fireman in his room. That leaves Mr. Henckel and a coal
+passer to be reckoned with. Now there was some shooting up forward and
+somebody was hit. That means Riggins shot somebody or somebody shot
+Riggins. The second mate probably went forward to let the men out of the
+forecastle, while the fireman went aft to let the engine-room gang out
+of the sterncastle. They haven't had time to do it yet; they'll have to
+pry those rings out of the door with a crowbar. I'll go aft and drive
+the fireman forward; when I have them bunched I'll argue with them.”
+
+He arrived at the break of the house and looked down on the deck aft.
+The lights had been turned on and a man was just raising a short crowbar
+to attack the door, from behind which came shouts and cries of anger and
+consternation.
+
+Mike Murphy rested his automatic on the deck rail and fired twice at the
+man in front of the sterncastle door. The fellow fled at once dashing
+along the deck, zigzag fashion, to distract the skipper's aim, and
+disappeared in the dark entrance to the starboard alleyway. So Michael
+J. Murphy slid down the companion and followed into the alleyway, firing
+two shots for luck as he came.
+
+Scarcely had he disappeared into the murk amidships when Terence Reardon
+rolled groggily down the companion after him. Terence had no means of
+ascertaining which alleyway the skipper had charged into--and he did not
+care. Blind with fury he lurched into the port alleyway; in consequence
+of which the fugitive, fleeing ahead of the captain down the starboard
+alleyway and thinking to turn down the port alleyway and double back to
+complete his labors at the sterncastle door, bumped squarely into the
+chief engineer.
+
+Mr. Reardon said no word, but wrapped his arms round the man and held
+the latter close to his breast.
+
+Thus for a moment they stood, gripping each other, each wondering
+whether the other was friend or foe.
+
+Then Mr. Reardon decided that even if his nose was bloody he could not
+possibly be mistaken in the odor of a fireman just come off watch. He
+had lost his monkey wrench in the _melee_ on the upper deck--the defunct
+Mr. Uhl having fallen upon it, thereby obscuring it from Mr. Reardon's
+very much befogged vision, but his soul was still undaunted, for Mr.
+Reardon, in common with most chief engineers still in their prime,
+firmly believed that he could trounce any fireman he saw fit to employ.
+He bit suddenly into the fireman's cheek just where the flesh droops
+in a fold over the lower jaw, and was fortunate enough to secure a
+grip that bade fair to hold; then he crooked his leg at the back of his
+opponent's and slowly shoved the fellow's head backward. They came
+down together, Mr. Reardon on top, content for once to hold his man
+helpless--and rest--while his enemy's shrieks of pain and rage resounded
+through the ink-black alleyway.
+
+Michael J. Murphy heard that uproar and halted. After listening a few
+seconds he came to the conclusion that a German was in deep distress,
+and that hence it was no part of his business to interfere. Besides, he
+had business of his own to attend to. He could hear a chain rattling
+up forward, and while it was too dark to see who or what was doing the
+rattling, he found Mr. Henckel guilty on mere suspicion, and fired
+at the sound; whereupon somebody said “_Ach, Gott!_” in tones of deep
+disgust, two little flashes of fire cut the dark, and two bullets
+whispered of death as they flew harmlessly down the alleyway.
+
+Instantly Mike Murphy returned the salute, firing at the other's
+flashes; then he fell to the deck and rolled over into the scupper to
+escape the return fire, which was not slow in coming.
+
+“I wonder where the devil he got that gun,” was Murphy's comment. “Mr.
+Uhl must have had it in his pocket and lent it to him.”
+
+There was profound silence within the forecastle, and pending the
+destruction of his attacker Mr. Henckel judged it imprudent to make any
+further attempts at a delivery. He required time to formulate a plan
+of attack, and in the interim he desired shelter. Mike Murphy heard the
+patter of feet, the patter ceasing almost as soon as it commenced--and
+he smiled grimly.
+
+“He's hiding,” the captain soliloquized. “Now, where would I take
+shelter if I were in his fix? Why, back of the hatch-coaming, of
+course--or the winch.” He had a sudden inspiration and called aloud:
+
+“Riggins! Riggins! Answer me, Riggins. This is Captain Murphy calling
+you.”
+
+“'Ere, sir,” came the voice of Riggins from the pilot-house above. The
+voice was very weak.
+
+“Climb out of the pilot-house, Riggins, to the bridge, turn on the
+searchlight and bend it down here on the deck till I get a shot at this
+scoundrel. Don't be afraid of him, Riggins. It's Henckel and he can't
+shoot for beans. Get the light fair on him and keep it on him; it'll
+blind him and he won't be able to shoot you.”
+
+“The dirty dawg!” snarled Riggins wearily. “'E come up on the bridge
+a while--ago--an' I drove 'im off--but 'e plugged me, sir--through the
+guts, sir--an' me a married man! Wot in 'ell'll my ol' woman--say--”
+
+And that was the last word Riggins ever spoke. True, he managed to crawl
+out of the pilot-house and up the short companion to the bridge; he
+reached the searchlight, and while Mr. Henckel and Mike Murphy swapped
+shots below him he turned on the switch.
+
+“Bend it on the deck, Riggins. On the deck, my bully, on the deck,”
+ Mike Murphy pleaded as the great beam of white light shot skyward and
+remained there; nor could all of Murphy's pleading induce Riggins to
+bend it on the deck, for Riggins was lying dead beside the searchlight,
+while ten miles away an officer on the flying bridge of H.M.S. Panther
+watched that finger of light pointing and beckoning with each roll of
+the ship.
+
+“Something awf'lly queer, what?” he commented when reporting it to his
+superior.
+
+“Rather,” the superior replied laconically. “It can't be the Dresden
+and neither is it one of ours. We'll skip over and have a look at her,
+Reggie, my son.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Michael J. Murphy had two shots left in his automatic, and he was saving
+those for daylight and Mr. Henckel's rush, when a searchlight came
+nickering and feeling its way across the dark waters. Slowly, slowly
+it lifted and rested on the big blunt bows of the _Narcissus_, hovered
+there a few seconds and came slowly aft, and as it lighted up the main
+deck Mr. Henckel rose from behind the hatch-coaming.
+
+“_Deutschland uber Alles!_” he yelled joyously--and rushed.
+
+Terence Reardon, having pounded his firemen into insensibility, had
+crept down the port alleyway, and, unknown to Captain Murphy and Mr.
+Henckel, he had, from the opposite side of the deck, watched the flashes
+of their pistols as they fired at each other.
+
+“I'll have to flank that fella an' put a shtop to this nonsense,” Mr.
+Reardon decided presently, and forthwith crept across the deck on his
+hands and knees until he reached the hatch-coaming. Mr. Henckel lurked
+just round the other corner of the coaming, so close Mr. Reardon could
+hear him breathing. And there the crafty chief had waited until Mr.
+Henckel rose for his charge--whereupon Mr. Reardon rose also.
+
+“Ireland upper always, ye vagabone!” he yelled, and launched himself at
+Mr. Henckel's knees. It was a perfect tackle and the second mate went
+down heavily.
+
+In an emergency such as the present all Terence Reardon asked was good
+fighting light. Fighting in the dark distressed him, he discovered, for
+while polishing off the fireman in the black alleyway he had missed one
+punch at the fellow's head, and had been reminded to his sorrow and the
+ruin of his knuckles, that the deck of the Narcissus was of good Norway
+pine. However, H.M.S. Panther was scarcely three cable lengths distant
+now, and the officer on her flying bridge could see that some sort of a
+jolly row was in progress on the deck of the Narcissus; so he kept the
+searchlight on the combatants while Mr. Reardon bent Mr. Henckel's back
+over the hatch-coaming, took his automatic away from him, and proceeded
+to take a cast of the mate's features in the vulcanite butt of the
+weapon. And vulcanite is far from soft!
+
+When Terence Reardon had completed his self-appointed task he stood up,
+hitched his dungarees, spat blood on the deck, and stood waving from
+side to side like a dancing bear. His face was unrecognizable; his
+dungarees, so neat and clean when he donned them the night before, were
+now one vast smear of red, and he grinned horribly, for he was war mad!
+
+“Next!” he croaked, and turned to the master for orders.
+
+But Michael Joseph Murphy was out of the fight. He lay prone on the
+deck, conscious but helpless, and because his broken rib was tickling
+his lung the froth on his lips bore a little tinge of pink. Only his
+eyes moved--and they smiled at Terence Reardon as the triumphant exiles
+of Erin faced each other.
+
+Terence Reardon turned and shook his battered fists full into the rays
+of the searchlight. He was magnificent for one brief instant; then
+the war-madness left him, and again he was plain, faithful, whimsical,
+capable, honest Terence P. Reardon, chief engineer of the S.S.
+Narcissus, who considered it a pleasure to discourse on the fairies when
+he had nothing more important to do. Now that the fight was over and the
+German fleet had overhauled them at last, he had time to think of Mrs.
+Reardon and the children and his best job gone for ever--tossed into the
+discard with his honor as a faithful servant.
+
+He sat down very suddenly on the hatch-coaming and covered his terrible
+face with his terrible hands.
+
+“Ah, Norah! Norah!” he cried--and sobbed as if his heart must break.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+When Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara, of H.M.S. Panther, boarded the
+steamer Narcissus via the Jacob's ladder Mr. Reardon hove overside
+at his command, he paused a moment, balanced on the ship's rail, and
+stared.
+
+“My word!” he said, and leaped to the deck, to make room for a
+pink-and-white middy. The pink-and-white one stared and said “My aunt!”
+ Then he, too, leaped to the deck, and a stocky cockney blue-jacket poked
+his nose over the rail.
+
+“Damn my eyes!” said this individual. “'Ere's a bloomin' mess!”
+
+“Who is that person?” Captain Desmond O'Hara demanded, pointing to the
+semiconscious Mr. Henckel, who was moaning and saying things in his
+mother tongue.
+
+“That,” said Mr. Reardon with a familiar wink, “was a fine, decent
+German until I operated on him!”
+
+“So I observed. And who might you be?”
+
+“Me name is Terence P. Reardon, an' I'm the chief engineer av the United
+Shtates steamer _Narcissus_, av San Francisco.”
+
+“Ah! An Irish-American, eh?”
+
+Mr. Reardon looked down at the deck, smiled a cunning little smile and
+looked up at Captain O'Hara. “Well, sor,” he declared, “I had me hyphen
+wit' me whin I shipped; as late as yestherd'y afthernoon 'twas in good
+worrkin' ordher; but what wit' the exertion av chasin' our Gerrman
+crew round the decks, faith I've lost me hyphen, an' I'm thinkin' the
+skipper's lost his too. That's him forninst ye. For the prisent he's in
+dhrydock awaitin' repairs, which leaves me in command av the ship.
+And since he's in no condition to go to his shtate-room an' unlock the
+ship's safe, an' sorra wan av me knows the combination, the divil a look
+will ye have at our papers. I'll save time an' throuble for us all be
+tellin' ye now that we've ten t'ousand tons av soft coal undher
+deck, that we cleared from Norfolk, Virginia, for Manila or Batavia,
+Pernambuco for ordhers, an' that we're a couple av t'ousand miles off
+our course. So confiscate the ship an' be damned to ye! Only I'm hopin'
+ye'll not be above takin' a bit av advice from wan who knows. There's a
+Gerrman fleet not far off, an' if ye shtop to monkey wit' us, faith ye
+may live to regret it--an' ye may not.”
+
+Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara smiled sweetly. “Divil a fear,” he said,
+in no way cast down. “We met the beggars off the Falklands yesterday
+and sunk them all but the Dresden. She slipped away from us in the dark,
+making for the mainland, and we were looking for her when we saw your
+searchlight cutting up such queer didos, so the Panther dropped behind
+to investigate. Had it not been for your searchlight we would have
+missed you.”
+
+“An' be the same token a little dead Englishman signalled ye.” Mr.
+Reardon gave another hitch to his dungarees. “Sor,” he said doggedly,
+“I never t'ought I'd live to see the day I'd want to cheer a British
+victh'ry--but I do.” He glanced down at his right hand and shook his
+head. “Englishmen that ye are,” he continued, “I'll not offer ye a hand
+like that--much as I want to shake hands wit' ye.”
+
+“Faith, don't let that worry you, Mr. Reardon. I'm not an Englishman.”
+
+“In the divil's name, you're not an--an--”
+
+“I'm an Irishman! My name is Desmond O'Hara.”
+
+Mr. Reardon was fully aware that here was a grand specimen of the kind
+of Irish he had been taught to despise--the Irish that take the king's
+shilling, the gentlemen Irish that lead the king's cockneys into battle.
+And yet, strange to say, no thought of that entered his head now. He
+stepped up to Captain O'Hara, looked round cautiously as if expecting to
+be overheard, winked knowingly and whispered, as he jerked a significant
+thumb toward the unhappy Mr. Henckel: “Sure 'tis the likes av us that
+can take the measure av the likes av thim.”
+
+“It is,” replied Captain O'Hara, and reached for Terry Reardon's awful
+hand. “It is!”
+
+Together they lifted Michael J. Murphy into a boson's chair, the jackies
+unslung a cargo derrick, Mr. Reardon went to the winch, and the skipper
+was hoisted overside into the _Panther's_ boat and taken aboard the
+warship for medical attention. Just before Mr. Reardon hoisted him he
+drew the chief's ear down to his lips.
+
+“About von Staden,” he whispered. “I thought I wanted to see him hung.
+Legally he's a pirate; but, Terence, he was raised wrong; you know,
+Terence--_Deutschland ueber Alles_. These Dutch devils thought it was
+all right to steal our ship--national necessity, you know. Let von
+Staden out of the mate's store-room and tell him the English have
+us--that his fleet is gone. Then turn your back on him, Terence.”
+
+Mr. Reardon followed orders. “Captain Murphy ordhered me to let ye out,”
+ he explained to the supercargo, “an' towld me to turrn me back on ye.”
+
+“Please thank him for me,” von Staden replied gently. “I scarcely
+expected such kindness at his hands. You may turn your back now, Mr.
+Reardon.”
+
+So Mr. Reardon turned his back, and, despite the rush of the British
+jackies to stop him, Herr August Carl von Staden reached the rail.
+“_Deutschland ueber Alles!_” he shouted defiantly--and jumped. He did
+not come up.
+
+Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara removed his cap. “They die so infernally
+well,” he said presently, “one hates to fight them--individually.
+Yesterday the _Nuernberg_ fell to us. We outranged her, and when she was
+out of action and sinking, with her men swimming and drowning all round
+her, the _Panther_ was stripped of life preservers in two minutes. Some
+of my lads went overboard to help the Boche.”
+
+Mr. Reardon remembered he had wrapped waste round the head of his monkey
+wrench and curtailed his indicated horse-power when tapping individuals;
+yet, when he fought them in bulk, with what savage joy had he struck
+down Mr. Uhl, a poor, inoffensive devil and the victim of a false ideal
+of national honor! Mr. Reardon was quite sure he despised Englishmen;
+yet the tears came to his eyes when the jackies carried poor little
+Riggins away from the searchlight, and he prayed for eternal rest for
+the soul of his late assistants, for he had learned in a night, as he
+fought with tooth and fist and monkey wrench, what those who fight
+with tongue and typewriter will never learn--that racial and religious
+animosities are just a pitiful human bugaboo--in bulk. Only that valiant
+minority that sheds its blood for the heartless majority can ever know
+this great truth--and the pity of it--that warriors never hate each
+other.
+
+They are too generous for that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Capt. Matt Peasley, with his heart in his throat, called up the British
+consul at San Francisco. Cappy Ricks, looking very pale and unhappy,
+sagged in his chair, while Mr. Skinner stood by, gnawing his nails and
+looking as if he would relish being kicked from one end of California
+Street to the other.
+
+“Hullo!” Matt Peasley began. Cappy Ricks shuddered and closed his eyes.
+“Is this the British consul's office?... This is Captain Peasley, of the
+Blue Star Navigation Company... Yes... About our steamer _Narcissus_...
+You say the consul is on his way down to our office... Thank you...
+Goodbye.”
+
+Cappy Ricks sighed like an old air-compressor. “I hope I live till he
+gets here,” he declared feebly. “Deliberate race, the British. No pep.
+Never get anywhere in a hurry.”
+
+As if to give the lie to Cappy's criticisms, the British consul was
+admitted at that moment.
+
+“Gentlemen,” he announced as the heart-broken trio gathered round him,
+“I have some very grave news for you.” His voice was vaguely reminiscent
+of that of the foreman in a quarry who calls upon a lady to inform her
+that her husband has just been caught in a premature blast and that the
+boys will be up with the pieces directly. “Your steamer _Narcissus_,
+loaded with ten thousand tons of coal, has been captured a hundred miles
+north-east of the Falkland Islands by His Majesty's cruiser _Panther_.
+In view of your vessel's clearance--”
+
+A low moan broke from Cappy Ricks.
+
+“Tightwad!” he reviled. “Old Alden P. Tightwad, the prince of misers!
+He thought he'd add a couple of ten-dollar bills to his roll, so he
+encouraged his skipper to hire a lot of interned Germans to work his
+ships in neutral trade! He was penny-wise and pound-foolish, so he cut
+out the wireless to save a miserable hundred and forty dollars a
+month. Bids are invited for the privilege of killing the damned old
+fool--Skinner! What are you looking at?”
+
+“N-n-nothing!” stammered Mr. Skinner.
+
+“I won't be looked at that way, Skinner. I have my faults, I know--”
+
+“Ssshh!” Matt Peasley interrupted.
+
+“And I won't be 'sshh-ed' at either. I lost the ship. I admit it. I
+O.K.'d the charter, and Murphy did his best to save her for us and
+couldn't. I'm the goat, but if it busts me I'll reimburse you two boys
+for every cent you have lost through my carelessness--”
+
+“I beg your pardon, Mr. Ricks,” the consul interrupted. “Pray permit me
+to proceed. The circumstances attending this case are so very unusual--”
+
+“My dear Mister British Consul, I shall not argue the matter with you.
+You're too bally deliberate, and, besides, what's the use? The ship is
+gone. Let her go. We'll build another twice as big. Of course I could
+give you an excuse, but if I did you'd think I was old Nick Carter come
+to life. We'll just have to take it up through our State Department,
+present our alibi, and try to win her back in the prize court.”
+
+“She will never be sent to a prize court, Mr. Ricks. It doesn't require
+a prize court to decide the case of the steamer _Narcissus_. The
+evidence is too overwhelming. There could not possibly be a reversal of
+the decision of our admiral.”
+
+Mr. Skinner sat down suddenly to keep from falling down. The consul
+continued: “The commander of the _Panther_, Captain Desmond O'Hara--by
+the way, an old schoolmate of mine--has sent me a long private report
+on the affair; by wireless, of course, and in code. It appears that in
+Pernambuco harbor your German crew overpowered the captain--”
+
+“What?” cried Cappy, Matt and Skinner in chorus. “You admit that?”
+
+“We do, Mr. Ricks. And last night your chief engineer, Mr. Terence
+Reardon, with the aid of the steward, one Riggins--a British subject and
+unfortunately killed in the affray--and Captain Murphy overpowered the
+German crew--”
+
+“Oh, Mr. Ricks!” gasped Skinner.
+
+“Oh, Matt!” shrilled Cappy Ricks.
+
+“Oh, Cappy!” yelled Matt Peasley.
+
+“Oh, nonsense,” laughed the British consul. “They stole her back,
+gentlemen, and when Captain O'Hara found her rolling helplessly and
+boarded her, she was a shambles. Dead men tell no tales, Mr. Ricks--yet
+it was impossible for any fair-minded man to doubt the testimony of
+the dead men aboard your _Narcissus_! Her killed, wounded and prisoners
+formed a perfect alibi. In the meantime, Mr. Reardon and Captain
+Murphy are aboard the Panther, receiving medical attention, and will be
+returned to duty in a few weeks; the _Narcissus_ is proceeding to meet
+the other ships of our fleet. She will coal them at sea.”
+
+“Then you've confiscated her cargo?” Matt Peasley demanded.
+
+“We should worry about the cargo if they give us back our vessel,”
+ Cappy Ricks declared happily. “We haven't received our freight money,
+of course, but by the time I get through with the charterers they'll pay
+the freight and ask no questions about the coal.”
+
+“We confiscated it, Mr. Ricks,” the British consul continued, “for the
+reason that it was German coal. The supercargo who boarded the vessel
+at Pernambuco told your captain his people had paid cash for it to the
+charterers. But we're going to give you back your vessel because we
+haven't any moral right to keep her, since her owners have committed
+no breach of international law. The supercargo left fifteen thousand
+dollars behind him when he jumped overboard, but Captain O'Hara declined
+to confiscate that. At Captain Murphy's suggestion it will be forwarded
+to the widow of the man Riggins. Captain O'Hara especially requested
+that I call upon you and inform you that you have two of the finest
+Irishmen in the world to thank for your ship.”
+
+“Thank you, Mister Consul. By the way, can you reach Captain O'Hara by
+wireless? If you can, I should be glad to pay for a message if you will
+send it.”
+
+“I shall be delighted indeed.”
+
+“Then tell him the Blue Star Navigation Company thanks him for the
+courtesy of his message, but that it does not agree with his statement
+that we have two Irishmen to thank for our ship. We think we have
+three! I know the Irish. The scoundrels never go back on each other in a
+fight.”
+
+The consul laughed.
+
+“By the way,” he said, as he took up his hat preparatory to leaving,
+“your ship is now equipped with wireless--a fine, powerful plant such
+as they use in the German Navy. The supercargo brought it aboard at
+Pernambuco.”
+
+Matt Peasley, the Yankee, came to life at that. “Has that been
+confiscated, too?” he queried.
+
+“No, captain. However, we have confiscated that German crew of yours--”
+
+“Hallelujah!” yelled Cappy Ricks.
+
+“--and loaned you a crew of British seamen from the tramp _Surrey Maid_.
+The _Scharnhorst_ torpedoed her off the coast of Chile, and we found her
+crew on board one of the German transports when we captured them after
+the fleet was destroyed. You're all fixed up, from skipper to cabin
+boy--”
+
+“Wireless operator, too?” Matt Peasley cried.
+
+The consul nodded. “He's got a steady job,” the youthful president
+declared, and turned to Cappy Ricks for confirmation of this edict. But
+Cappy, the pious old codger, had bowed his head on his breast and they
+heard him mutter:
+
+“O Lord, I thank Thee! All unworthy as I am, Lord, thou loadest me with
+favors--including a wireless plant, free gratis!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+Long after the British consul had departed Cappy Ricks sat alone in his
+office, dozing. Presently he roused and rang for Mr. Skinner.
+
+“Skinner,” he said, “Matt reports that the late Riggins made an
+allotment of his wages to his wife when he shipped aboard the
+_Narcissus_?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Riggins's wages hereafter shall constitute a charge against the
+_Narcissus_ while Mrs. Riggins lives and while the Blue Star Navigation
+Company can afford to give up seventy dollars every month. Attend to it,
+Skinner. Another thing, Skinner.”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“We ought to do something for Murphy and Reardon. Now then, Skinner,
+you've never had a chance to be a sport heretofore, but you're a
+stockholder in the Blue Star Navigation Company now, and as such I feel
+that I should not use my position, as owner of a controlling interest in
+the stock of the company, to give away the property of the company in
+an arbitrary fashion. So I'm going to leave it up to you, Skinner, to
+suggest what we shall do for them. I believe you will agree with me that
+we should do something very handsome by those two boys.”
+
+“Quite so, sir, quite so. Well, to start off with, Mr. Ricks, I think we
+ought to pay their hospital bills, if any. Then I think we ought to give
+each of them a handsome gold watch, suitably engraved and with a small
+blue star--sapphires, you know--set in the front of the case.”
+
+“You feel that would about fill the bill, eh, Skinner?”
+
+“Well, next Christmas I think we ought to give them each a month's
+salary.”
+
+“Hum! You do?”
+
+“Yes, sir. I think that would be a very delicate thing to do.”
+
+Cappy sighed. Poor Skinner! Victim of the saving habit! Decent
+devil--didn't mean to be small, but just couldn't help it. A
+bush-leaguer--Skinner. Never meant for big company--
+
+“In addition--” Skinner began.
+
+“Yes, Skinner, my boy. Go on, go on, old horse. Now then, in addition--”
+
+“It seems like the wildest extravagance, Mr. Ricks, but those men
+have fought for their ship and I--remember, Mr. Ricks, this is only
+a suggestion--I think it would be a very--er--tactful thing to do
+to--er--”
+
+“It'll choke him before he gets it out,” Cappy soliloquized. Aloud he
+said: “Go on, Skinner, my dear boy. Don't be afraid.”
+
+“At a time like this, when freights are so good and vessel property
+pays so well, it seems to me--that is, if you and Matt have no
+objection--that we ought to give Mike and Terence a--er--a little
+piece of the _Narcissus_--the ship--er--they
+love--say--er--a--ten-thousand-dollar interest--each--”
+
+“God bless you, Skinner! You came through at last, didn't you? The
+president emeritus agrees with you, Skinner, and it is so ordered.
+
+“Now skip along and wireless the glad news to Mike and Terence. Tell
+them when they have the coal out to proceed to Rio and load manganese
+ore.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+In due course Captain Michael J. Murphy and Mr. Terence Reardon came off
+the dry dock, the sole visible evidence of that unrecorded second naval
+engagement off the Falkland Islands being a slight list to starboard
+on the part of the Reardon nose, and a notch in Murphy's right ear. Mr.
+Skinner had had a local jeweler prepare the presentation watches against
+the day of the home-coming of the warriors of the Blue Star, and on
+a Saturday night Cappy gave a banquet to Mike and Terence, and every
+employee of the Ricks' interests who could possibly attend, was present
+to do the doughty pair honor and cheer when the awards for valor were
+duly made by Cappy and congratulatory speeches made by Mr. Skinner
+and Matt Peasley. It was such a gala occasion that Cappy drank three
+cocktails, battened down by a glass or two of champagne, and as a result
+was ill for two days thereafter. When he recovered, he announced sadly
+and solemnly that he was about to retire--forever; that nothing of
+a business nature should ever be permitted to drag him back into the
+harness again. Then he bade all of his employees a touching farewell,
+packed his golf clubs, and disappeared in the general direction of
+Southern California. He was away so long that eventually even the
+skeptical Mr. Skinner commenced to wonder if, perchance, the age of
+miracles had not yet passed and Cappy had really retired.
+
+Alas! On the morning of December 24th, Cappy suddenly appeared at the
+office, his kindly old countenance aglow like a sunrise on the Alps.
+Immediately he cited Mr. Skinner to appear with the payrolls of all of
+the Ricks enterprises and show what cause, if any, existed, why there
+should not be a general whooping up of salaries to the deserving all
+along the line. The Ricks Lumber & Logging Company had already declared
+a Christmas dividend; the accounts of every ship in the Blue Star fleet
+had been made up to date and a special Christmas dividend declared, and,
+in accordance with ancient custom, Cappy had appeared to devote one
+day in the year to actual labor. Christmas dividend checks and checks
+covering Christmas presents to his employees were always signed by him;
+it was his way of letting the recipients know that, although retired, he
+still kept a wary eye on his affairs.
+
+He had writer's cramp by the time he finished, but while the spending
+frenzy was on him he would take no rest; so he seized a pencil and,
+while Mr. Skinner called off the names of the deserving and the length
+of time each had spent in the Ricks service, Cappy scrawled a five, a
+ten or a twenty beside each name. Thus, in time, they came to the first
+name on the Blue Star pay roll.
+
+“Matthew Peasley, president; salary, ten thousand dollars a year; length
+of service, four months,” Mr. Skinner intoned. “How about a raise for
+Captain Matt?”
+
+Cappy laid down his pencil and looked at Skinner over the rims of his
+spectacles.
+
+“Skinner,” he said gravely, “you're only drawing twelve thousand a year,
+and you've been with me twenty-five years! And here I'm giving this boy
+Matt ten thousand a year and he's been on the pay roll only four months.
+Why, it isn't fair!”
+
+“Remember, he was three years in the Blue Star ships that--”
+
+“Can't consider that at all when raising salaries. The salaries of
+ship's officers are fixed and immutable anyhow, and when considering
+raises for my employees. I can take into consideration only the length
+of time they've been directly under my eye. Cut Matt's salary to five
+thousand a year and let him grow up with the business. His dividends
+from his Ricks L. & L. and Blue Star stock will keep him going, and he
+hasn't any household bills to keep up. He and Florry live with me, and
+I'm the goat.”
+
+“I fear Matt will not take kindly to that program, Mr.
+Ricks--particularly at this time, when every ship in the offshore fleet
+is paying for herself every voyage.”
+
+“Why?” Cappy demanded.
+
+“Well,” Mr. Skinner replied hesitatingly, “perhaps I have no business to
+tell you this, because the knowledge came to me quite by accident; but
+the fact of the matter is, Matt is going to build himself an auxiliary
+schooner--”
+
+“Good news!” Cappy piped. “That's the ticket for soup! An auxiliary
+schooner with semi-Diesel engines, four masts and about a million-foot
+lumber capacity would be a mighty good investment right now. Every yard
+in the country that builds steel vessels is filled up with orders, but
+our coast shipyards can turn out wooden vessels in a hurry; and, with
+auxiliary power, they'll pay five hundred per cent on their cost
+before this flurry in shipping, due to the war, is over. I don't care,
+Skinner--provided he builds a ship that's big enough to go foreign--”
+
+“But this isn't that kind,” Mr. Skinner interrupted.
+
+“No other kind will do, Skinner.”
+
+“This is to be a schooner yacht--”
+
+“A what!” Cappy shrilled.
+
+“A yacht--eighty-five feet over all--”
+
+“Eighty-five grandmothers! Why, what the devil does that boy want of a
+yacht? How much money does he intend to put into her?”
+
+“I do not know, Mr. Ricks; but we can be reasonably certain of one
+thing; Matt Peasley will not build a cheap boat. She'll have a lot of
+gewgaws and gadgets, teak rail, mahogany joiner-work--at the very least,
+she'll cost him thirty thousand dollars.”
+
+“Skinner,” Cappy declared solemnly, “he might as well put the money in
+a sack, go down to Clay Street Wharf and throw the money overboard!
+The other night I saw a couple of soldiers having a pleasant time in
+a shooting gallery, but what the president of the Blue Star Navigation
+Company wants with a thirty-thousand-dollar yacht beats my time. Why,
+he has more than thirty good vessels to play with all week, and yet he
+wants a yacht for Sunday! Skinner, my dear boy, that is wild, wanton
+extravagance.”
+
+“Well, I dare say Matt thinks he can afford the extravagance.”
+
+“Skinner, no man can afford it. Extravagance may reach a point where it
+becomes sinful. And I say it's a crime to put thirty thousand dollars
+into a yacht when the same thirty thousand, invested in a good vessel,
+will yield such tremendous returns. Skinner, my boy, how did you find
+out about this yacht nonsense?”
+
+“I was looking through Matt's desk for a letter I had given him to read,
+and I ran across the plans. Thinking they were Blue Star plans, I looked
+them over; there was a letter from the naval architect attached--”
+
+Cappy threw down his pencil.
+
+“By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,” he cried in deep disgust, “I thought
+I was going to have a Merry Christmas--and now it's spoiled! Good Lord,
+Skinner! To think of a man throwing away thirty thousand dollars, not to
+mention the upkeep and interest after he's thrown it away--”
+
+“You've just this very day thrown away about thirty thousand dollars you
+didn't have to,” Mr. Skinner reminded him.
+
+“I do have to. I've got to keep all my boys happy and satisfied and up
+on their toes, or what the devil would happen to us? They're my partners
+when all is said and done, and how am I going to face my Maker if I
+don't give my partners a square deal? There's a vast difference between
+justice and extravagance. Skinner, you don't suppose Matt's like every
+other shellback of a skipper? Why, he's only twenty-five years old; and
+if he's got the blue-water fever again, after a year ashore, there'll be
+no standing him at thirty.”
+
+“Well, he's got it, sir,” Mr. Skinner opined firmly. “Did you ever see
+an old sailing skipper that didn't get it? You remember Burns, who had
+the _Sweet Alferetta_? His father died and left him a million dollars,
+and five years later he came sneaking in here one day, told you he was
+tired clipping coupons and that if you wanted to save his life you'd
+give him back the _Sweet Alferetta_ and a hundred dollars a month to
+skipper her! He sold his interest to his successor for two thousand
+dollars when he fell into the fortune--and five years later he bought it
+back for three thousand, just so he could have a job again.”
+
+“Yes,” Cappy admitted; “they all get the blue-water fever--after
+they've left blue water. I never knew a sailor yet who wouldn't tell
+you sailoring was a dog's life; but I never knew one who quit and quite
+recovered from the hankering to go back. I think you're right, Skinner.
+This yacht is just a symptom of Matt's disease. He realizes his business
+interests tie him to the beach; but if he has a sailing yacht that he
+can fuss round with on week-ends in the bay, and once in a while make a
+little cruise to Puget Sound or the Gulf of Lower California, he figures
+he'll manage to survive.”
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded.
+
+“Speaking of yachts,” Cappy continued, “the case of old Cap'n Cliff
+Ashley suggests a cure for this boy Matt. Cap'n Cliff was a Gloucester
+fisherman, with the smartest little schooner that ever came home from
+the Grand Banks with halibut up to her hatches. He couldn't read or
+write and he'd never learned navigation; but he'd been born with the
+instincts of a homing pigeon, and somehow whenever he pointed his
+schooner toward Gloucester he managed to arrive on schedule; and any
+time he got a good fair breeze from the west, like as not he'd run over
+to England and sell his catch there.
+
+“Like most of his breed, Cap'n Cliff had to have a fast boat; he had to
+keep her as immaculate as a yacht in order to be happy, and he was never
+so happy as when he'd meet a squadron of the New York Yacht Club out
+on a cruise and sail circles round the flagship with his little old
+knockabout fish schooner. On such occasions old Cap'n Cliff would break
+out a long red burgee with M.O.B.Y.C. in white letters on it. On one of
+his trips to England he hooked up with a big schooner wearing the ensign
+of the Royal Yacht Club and dassed 'em to race with him.
+
+“Well, sir, it happened that the late King Edward was aboard his yacht
+that day, and you know what a sport he was in his palmy days. Cap'n
+Cliff cracked on everything he had in the way of plain sail and, after
+holding the King even for a couple of hours, he put his packet under
+gaff topsails and fisherman's staysail and broke out the balloon jib,
+bade Edward good-bye in the International Code--and flew! About six
+hours after Cap'n Cliff came to anchor, the King loafed up in his yacht,
+dropped anchor, cleared away his launch, and came over to visit Cap'n
+Cliff and shake hands with him.
+
+“'My dear sir,' says Edward, pointing aloft to the red burgee with
+M.O.B.Y.C. on it, 'pray to what yacht club do you belong?'
+
+“'My own bloomin' yacht club, your majesty,' says Cap'n Cliff; and if he
+hadn't been a Yankee fisherman the King would have knighted him on the
+spot!
+
+“And that remark, Skinner, my dear boy, clears the atmosphere in the
+case of our own dear Matthew. He shall have his own blooming yacht club,
+only his yacht shall carry cargo and pay her way.”
+
+“You mean--”
+
+“I mean I'm going to send him to sea for one voyage, once a year,
+which will break up that blue-water fever and save Matt thirty thousand
+dollars as an initial investment, and about ten thousand a year upkeep
+and interest. All that boy needs to cure him, Skinner, is the old
+_Retriever_, totally surrounded by horizon and smelling of a combination
+of tarred rope, turpentine, wet canvas, fresh paint, green lumber and
+the stink of the bilge water. Lordy me, Skinner, it puts them to sleep
+and they wake up feeling perfectly bully! Where's the _Retriever_ now,
+Skinner, and who is in charge of her destinies?”
+
+“She's due on Puget Sound from the West Coast. Captain Lib Curtis has
+her.”
+
+“Good news! Well, now, Skinner, you listen to me: The minute he reports
+his arrival you wire Lib to put the old harridan on dry dock and slick
+her up until she looks like four aces and a king, with everybody in the
+game standing pat. Can't have any whiskers on her bottom when Matt takes
+her out, Skinner, because if the boy's to enjoy himself she's got to
+be able to show a clean pair of heels. Then write Lib to wire his
+resignation and give any old reason for it. Have him resign just before
+the vessel is loaded and ready for sea, and tell him to insist on being
+relieved immediately. Of course, Skinner, Matt will get busy right away,
+looking for the right skipper to relieve Captain Curtis--and about that
+time the president emeritus will shove in his oar and ball things up.
+Every doggoned skipper Matt recommends for the job is going to have his
+application vetoed by Alden P. Ricks, and--er--ahem! Harumph-h-h!”
+
+“Yes, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“And you stick by me, Skinner. Follow all my leads and don't trump any
+of my aces; and just about the time Matt begins to get good and mad
+at my doggoned interference--you know, Skinner, my boy, I'm only a
+figurehead--you cut in and say: 'Well, for heaven's sake! You two still
+squabbling over a skipper for the _Retriever?_ Matt, why don't you
+save the demurrage and take her out yourself--eh?'” And Cappy winked
+knowingly and prodded his general manager in the ribs.
+
+“I guess that plan's kind of poor--eh, Skinner? I guess it won't
+work--eh? Particularly when I come right back and say: 'Well, he might
+as well, for all the use he is round this office. Here I go to work and
+appoint him president of the Blue Star and he won't stay in the office
+and'tend to the president's business. Yes, sir! Leaves all that to you
+and me, Skinner, while he degrades himself doing the work of a port
+captain.'”
+
+“All of which is quite true, Mr. Ricks,” Mr. Skinner affirmed. “He will
+not stay in the office--and he's getting worse. Two-thirds of his time
+is spent round the docks.”
+
+“Well, two-thirds of his time in 1915 will not be spent round the docks,
+Skinner. Play that bet to win! We're going to have a busy old year
+in the shipping game in 1915, and a busier one in 1916 if that war in
+Europe isn't over by then. A voyage in the _Retriever_ will fix the boy
+up, Skinner, and he'll stick round the office and put over some real
+business. Yachts! Hah! What does a business man want of a yacht?”
+
+“You overlooked one very important detail, Mr. Ricks,” Skinner ventured.
+
+“I overlook nothing, Skinner--nothing. His wife shall accompany him on
+the voyage. I shall implant the idea in her head, beginning this very
+night as soon as I get home. I'll just tell her she isn't and never will
+be a true sailor's true love until she takes a voyage with her husband.
+Romantic girl, Florry! She'll about eat that suggestion, feathers and
+all, Skinner. She'll do the real work for us. Always remember, my boy,
+that an ounce of promotion is worth enough perspiration to float the
+_Narcissus_.”
+
+“But what shall we do for a port captain?”
+
+“I've ordered Mike Murphy--via Matt, of course--to take a vacation
+under full salary and recover from the wounds he received walloping
+that German crew on the _Narcissus_. About the time Matt leaves in the
+_Retriever_, Mike will be ready to go to work again or commit murder if
+we don't give it to him; so we'll slip him a temporary appointment as
+port captain. I'm going to make it permanent some day, anyhow. I suppose
+you've noticed that Mike Murphy has a crush on your stenographer; and I
+don't see how he's going to put anything over if he never gets a chance
+to see the girl!”
+
+“I really hadn't noticed it, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“If it was a ten-cent piece you'd notice it,” Cappy retorted. “And now
+that matter is settled, how about this port steward? Is he a grafter? If
+not, raise him five dollars a month. He's been with us only a year.”
+
+Late that afternoon, after Cappy had made the rounds of his office,
+distributing his checks and wishing all hands the merriest of
+Christmases, he paused at last at Mr. Skinner's desk and laid a
+thousand-dollar check thereon.
+
+“Not a peep out of you, Skinner--not a peep!” he cautioned his general
+manager. “No thanks due me. You've earned it a thousand times over--and
+then some. Hum-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! By the way, Skinner, my dear boy,
+I forgot to mention to you another little idea that's in the back of my
+head.”
+
+“You mean about sending Matt to sea for a voyage?”
+
+“Exactly. The sea is a wonderful institution, Skinner--wonderful! It
+promotes health and strength; and--er--damn it, Skinner, my dear boy,
+have you ever observed that there isn't a married skipper in our employ
+that hasn't been lucky? Many well-known authorities prescribe a sea
+voyage--”
+
+“What for, Mr. Ricks?”
+
+Cappy thrust his thumb into Skinner's ribs, winked, bent low, and
+whispered:
+
+“Too slow, Skinner; too slow. I'm getting old, you know--I can't wait
+for ever. And if the experiment succeeds--Skinner, my dear boy, you're
+next! You've been married more than a year now--”
+
+“I fail to comprehend--”
+
+“Grandson!” Cappy whispered. “Grandson!”
+
+“Oh!” said Mr. Skinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+One of the remarks most frequently heard on California Street was to
+the effect that whenever Cappy Ricks girded up his loins and went after
+something he generally got it. His scheme to get Matt Peasley to sea for
+one voyage, accompanied by Florry, worked as smoothly as a piston; and
+on the fifteenth of January the Peasleys went aboard the _Retriever_ at
+Bellingham and towed out, bound for Manila with a cargo of fir lumber.
+Matt made the run down in sixty-six days, a smart passage, waited a week
+in Manila Bay before he could secure a berth and commence discharging,
+discharged in a week, loaded a cargo of hemp, with a deckload of
+hardwood logs, and was ready for the return trip to San Francisco on
+April twenty-fourth, on which day he towed out past Corregidor.
+
+His wife, however, was not with him on the return voyage. Following a
+family conference, it was decided that Florry should return home on the
+mail steamer--which action Cappy Ricks considered most significant when
+Matt apprised him of it by cable, but failed to state a reason. The
+president emeritus, immediately upon receipt of this information,
+trotted into Mr. Skinner's office and laid Matt Peasley's cablegram on
+the latter's desk.
+
+“Well, Skinner, my dear boy,” he piped, rubbing his hands together the
+while, “what do you know about that?”
+
+“Do you--er--suspect--er--something, Mr. Ricks?”
+
+“Suspect? Not a bit of it. I know! Neither Florry nor Matt would dream
+of permitting the other to come home alone if there wasn't a third party
+to be considered. Paste that in your hat, Skinner. It isn't done.”
+
+Cappy was right, for the same steamer that bore his daughter home
+carried also a brief letter from his son-in-law conveying the tidings
+of great joy. The old man was so happy he went into Mr. Skinner's office
+and struck his general manager a terrible blow between the shoulders,
+after which he declared it was a shame that his years and reputation for
+respectability denied him the privilege of chartering a seagoing hack
+and painting the town red!
+
+The _Retriever_ crept slowly up the China Sea on the first of the
+southwest monsoon. At that period of the year, however, the monsoon
+is weak and unsteady; and after clearing the northern end of Luzon the
+_Retriever_ kicked round in a belt of light and baffling airs for a
+week. Then the monsoon freshened somewhat and the _Retriever_ once
+more rolled lazily away on her course, with young Matt Peasley humming
+chanteys on her quarter-deck and pondering the mystery that confronts
+all mankind in their first adventure in fatherhood. Would it be a boy or
+a girl? He was expressing to himself for perhaps the thousandth time the
+hope that it would be a boy, when from the poop he saw something he did
+not relish.
+
+It was the ship's cat coming across the deckload toward him, in
+his yellow eyes a singularly pleased expression and in his mouth a
+singularly large rat.
+
+Matt Peasley stepped below, found an old glove and drew it over his
+right hand, after which he returned to the quarter-deck.
+
+“Come, Tommy!” he called; and pussy came, to be seized by the tail and,
+still holding fast to his prey, cast overboard.
+
+“It's bad luck to do that to a black cat, sir,” the mate informed him.
+
+Matt Peasley's eyes were blazing.
+
+“And it's worse luck still for any mate aboard my ship who neglects to
+put the rat-guards on the lines when the vessel is lying at the dock,”
+ he growled. “You lubberly idiot!”
+
+“But I did put the rat-guards on the lines,” the mate protested.
+
+“Yes, I know you did; but I had to remind you of it,” Matt replied. “You
+didn't get them on in time--and now the Lord only knows how many rats
+we have aboard. Ordinarily I don't mind rats, but an Oriental rat is
+something to be afraid of.”
+
+“Why, sir?”
+
+“Because they carry the germs of bubonic plague, you farmer!” And Matt
+very carefully removed his glove and cast it overboard after the cat.
+“And it's a cold day when you can't find an occasional case of plague
+in the Orient. The cat caught the rat and mauled it round; hence the
+cat had to go, because I never permit in my cabin a cat that has been on
+intimate terms with an Oriental rat. And now I bet I know what's wrong
+with that fo'castle hand that went into the sick bay the day before
+yesterday. He complained of swelling in the glands of his neck and
+groins.”
+
+The cook left the forward deckhouse and came aft over the deckload. At
+the break of the poop he paused.
+
+“Captain Peasley,” he announced, “Lindstrom is dead.”
+
+“Tell everybody to keep away from him,” Matt ordered. He turned to the
+mate. “Mr. Matson,” he announced, “the first duty of a murderer is to
+get rid of the body. Go forward and throw Lindstrom's body overboard;
+then stay forward. If you come aft until I send for you I'll blow your
+brains out!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+When the _Retriever_ was out from Manila seventy days Cappy Ricks
+remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt would be breezing in most any day now.
+On the eightieth day he remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt was coming
+home a deal slower than he had gone out. The efficient Skinner, however,
+cited so many instances of longer passages from Manila to San Francisco
+that Cappy was comforted, although he was not convinced. “You make me a
+type-written list of all those vessels and their passages, Skinner,” he
+cautioned; “and when you can't think of any more authentic cases fake up
+a few. Florry's beginning to worry. She knows now what it means to be
+a sailor's wife, and if that doggoned Matt doesn't report soon 111 know
+what it means to be a sailor's father-in-law. I wish to Jimminy I hadn't
+sent Matt out with the _Retriever._”
+
+Ninety days passed. Cappy commenced to fidget. A hundred days passed,
+and Cappy visited the hydrographic office and spent a long time poring
+over charts of the air currents in the China Sea, along the coast of
+Asia and in the North Pacific.
+
+“Skinner, my dear boy,” he quavered when he returned to the office; “I'm
+a most unhappy old man.”
+
+Mr. Skinner forgot for an instant that he was a business man and, with a
+sudden, impulsive movement, he put his long, thin arm round the old man
+and squeezed him.
+
+“If you didn't think so much of him, sir,” he comforted Cappy, “you'd
+worry less. She really will not be overdue until she's out a hundred and
+twenty days.”
+
+“Skinner,” Cappy piped wearily, “don't try to deceive me. I've been
+in the shipping game for forty-odd years, boy. I know it's about six
+thousand miles from San Francisco to Manila, and if a vessel averages
+ninety miles a day she's making a smart passage. Matt made it down in
+sixty-six days, and he ought to come back in sixty, because he has fair
+winds all the way. Skinner, the boy's a month overdue; and if he never
+shows up--if he stays out much longer--Florry'll break her heart; and
+my grandson--think of it, Skinner!--think of the prenatal effect on the
+child! Oh, Skinner, my dear, dear boy, I want him big and light-hearted
+and sunny-souled like Matt--and to think this is all my doing--my own
+daughter! Oh! Oh, Skinner, my heart is breaking!”
+
+Mr. Skinner fled to his own office and did something most
+un-Skinner-like. He blinked away several large bright tears; and while
+he was blinking them the telephone bell rang. Mechanically Mr. Skinner
+answered. It was Jerry Dooley, in charge of the Merchants' Exchange.
+
+“Mr. Skinner,” said Jerry, “I've got some bad news for you.”
+
+“The-the-_Retriever_--” Skinner almost whispered.
+
+“Yes, sir. I thought I'd tell you first, so you could break it to the
+old man gently. The Grace liner _Ecudorian_ arrived at Victoria this
+morning and reports speaking the _Retriever_ eight hundred miles off the
+coast of Formosa. The vessel was under jib, lower topsail, foretopmast
+staysail, mainsail and spanker. She was flying two flags--an inverted
+ensign and the yellow quarantine flag. The _Ecudorian_ steamed close
+alongside of her, to windward. Captain Peasley was at the wheel--”
+
+“Thank God!” Mr. Skinner almost sobbed. “What was wrong with her, Jerry?
+Hurry up, man! Hurry up! Tell me!”
+
+“He was alone on the ship, Mr. Skinner. Bubonic plague! Killed the
+entire crew! Matt was the only man immune, and he's sailing the
+_Retriever_ home alone!”
+
+Mr. Skinner groaned.
+
+“Good gracious Providence! Why didn't the _Ecudorian_ take him off?”
+
+“Credit them with offering it,” Jerry replied. “He wouldn't come. He
+declined to jeopardize the people aboard the steamer and he wouldn't
+abandon the _Retriever_ with her full cargo; so what could they do? They
+had to sail away without him.”
+
+Gently Mr. Skinner broke the news to Cappy Ricks; for, of course, the
+United Press dispatches had carried it to the later afternoon editions
+and it would be useless for Mr. Skinner to attempt to lie kindly. Cappy,
+with bowed head, heard him through; when finally he looked up at Skinner
+his eyes were dead.
+
+“Quite what I expected of him, Skinner,” he said dully. “And I'd rather
+have him die than dog it! This report from the _Ecudorian_ helps some,
+Skinner. It will do to keep hope alive in my Florry--and every two weeks
+until the boy is born we'll--we'll--Oh, Skinner--”
+
+“Yes, sir; I'll attend to it. Leave everything to me, Mr. Ricks. I'll
+have wireless reports and telegrams and cablegrams from every port on
+earth telling of ships having spoken the _Retriever_, with the skipper
+well and hearty, and sending messages of good cheer to his wife.”
+
+“You--you won't be--er--stingy, Skinner? You'll send out the
+_Tillicum_ to find him and tow him in, won't you? And you'll have real
+telegrams--spend money, Skinner! I'll have to bring those messages home
+to Florry--”
+
+“Everything, Mr. Ricks. And I'll start right in by slipping fifty
+dollars to each of the waterfront reporters on all the papers. They're
+good boys, Mr. Ricks. I'll tell them why I have to have the service.
+Mrs. Peasley must have our fake reports confirmed in the papers--”
+
+“For work like that the marine reporters should have more money,” Cappy
+suggested wearily. His old hand reached out gropingly, closed over Mr.
+Skinner's and held it a moment childishly. “You're a very great
+comfort to me, Skinner--very great indeed! And you'll come home with me
+to-night, won't you, Skinner? I'm a little afraid--I want you near me,
+Skinner--in case I can't get away with it to Florry.”
+
+His dry, dead eyes studied the pattern in the office carpet.
+
+“Two mates, a cook and ten A. B.'s!” he murmured presently. “One man,
+even a Matt Peasley, cannot do the work of thirteen men. No, Skinner; it
+isn't done. One man simply cannot sail a barkentine.”
+
+But Mr. Skinner was not listening. He was on the long-distance phone
+calling the master of the _Tillicum_, just about finishing discharge of
+a cargo of nitrate at San Pedro. And presently Cappy heard him speaking:
+
+“Mr. Ricks, listen! Grant, of the _Tillicum_, says Matt would go up the
+China Sea on the southwest monsoon... Yes, captain. You say--ah, yes;
+quite so... Grant says he'd edge over until he got into the Japan
+Stream, and that would add a knot or two an hour to his speed... Yes,
+Grant. Speak up! ... Grant says, Mr. Ricks, that about the middle of
+September or the first of October Matt would run out of the southwest
+monsoon into the northeast monsoon--that's it, Grant, isn't it? He'd
+get them about off Formosa, eh?... Yes, Grant. Then he'd run into the
+prevailing westerly winds and run north on a great circle about five
+hundred miles below the Aleutian Islands--I see, Grant. All right! Fill
+your oil tanks and take an extra supply on deck, head into the North
+Pacific... Yes; use your own judgment, of course. Mine's no good... Yes;
+and bring a lot of disinfectants and a doctor, so it'll be safe to put
+a few men aboard when you find her and put your hawser on her ... Yes,
+Grant. If you find her you'll not have reason to regret it. Good-bye!
+Good luck!”
+
+“While the _Tillicum_ is on this wild-goose chase, Skinner,” Cappy said
+wearily, “she is chartered by the Blue Star Navigation Company to Alden
+P. Ricks personally, at the prevailing rates. The stockholders mustn't
+pay for my fancies, Skinner. You'll see to that, won't you?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+_Excerpt from the log of Captain Matt Peasley relief skipper of the
+American barkentine Retriever; Manila to San Francisco._
+
+May Third.--Seaman Olaf Lindstrom died to-day, following an illness of
+thirty-six hours. He was taken with chills and fever on the morning
+of the second, complained of a severe headache and vomited repeatedly.
+Removed him from the forecastle to a spare room in the forward house,
+which on the _Retriever_ has always been used as a sick bay. While being
+supported along the deck he collapsed, and when the mate undressed him
+and put him to bed he complained of soreness in his groins. I examined
+them and found them slightly swollen. Treated him for ague--calomel,
+salts, quinine and whisky, and one-fortieth-grain strychnine hypodermic
+solution to keep up his heart action when the fever registered one
+hundred and four and higher. He grew steadily worse. Could not find
+anything in my Home Book of Medicine that exactly described his
+symptoms, and was at a loss to diagnose Lindstrom's case until I
+discovered the ship's cat with a rat it had just killed.
+
+There were no rats aboard the _Retriever_ when she left San Francisco.
+I recalled that the first night we tied up to the dock in Manila a dirty
+little China Coast tramp lay just ahead of us; and as I passed her on my
+way uptown I saw a rat run down her gangplank. She had rat-guards on
+her mooring lines. We had just tied up to the dock and I returned
+immediately and instructed the mate to be sure to put the rat-guards on
+our mooring lines, and not to use any sort of gangplank. When I returned
+to the vessel later that night I found that the mate had neglected to
+put on the rat-guards and logged him for it. Before we left the dock a
+Chinaman died of bubonic plague aboard that tramp, and the port health
+authorities put the vessel in quarantine immediately and prevented
+further spread of the disease.
+
+When I saw the ship's cat with a rat, therefore, I knew we had some of
+that rotten China Coaster's plague rats aboard. Accordingly threw cat
+and rat overboard just as the cook announced Lindstrom's death. Upon
+looking up the information on plague, I am now convinced we have it
+aboard--that Linstrom died of it. First Mate Olaf Matson wrapped
+himself in my old bathrobe, gloved his hands and threw Lindstrom's body
+overboard, following it with the gloves and bathrobe.
+
+I am, in a measure, prepared for plague. When I learned we had lain
+close to a vessel with a case of plague aboard I laid in some plague
+medicine, on general principles and just to have an anchor out to
+windward. At the English drug store on the Escolta I bought a tiny
+bottle of Yersin's Antipest Serum and another of Haffkine's Prophylactic
+Fluid. It was all they had on hand and it wasn't much; but--it is enough
+to save me--and I intend to be saved if possible. I cannot afford to die
+now. I do not know how old the Haffkine's Fluid is; and the older it is,
+the longer it takes to render one immune. The antipest serum will render
+me immune immediately, but the duration of the immunity thus granted
+lasts, at the most, only fifteen days. I must, therefore, first take a
+hypodermic injection of antipest serum to render me immune immediately
+and the next day follow with an injection of Haffkine's Fluid, which
+gives permanent immunity, but not for a week or longer when used alone.
+
+There is this devilish thing about it to be considered, however: I may
+at this moment be inoculated with plague, for the period of incubation
+is from three to seven days--and I've fondled that cat every day since
+we left Manila. If I am already infected and do not know it, and while
+in that condition take an injection of the antipest serum, the book says
+the serum will immediately bring on a fatal and virulent attack of the
+plague! On the other hand, if I am not inoculated and take the antipest
+serum I am safe.
+
+The question before the house, therefore, is: Shall I take it or shall
+I not? And if I do take it shall I be saving my life or committing
+suicide? I am like the fellow in the story who was forced to drink from
+one of two glasses of wine. He knew one of them contained poison, but
+he didn't know which one it was! I shall make my will and flip a coin to
+decide the issue.
+
+May Fourth.--Two a.m. Mate reports another sick man in the forecastle.
+Wish I had some formaldehyde gas. Have told mate to sprinkle chloride
+of lime in Lindstrom's bunk and to dust the walls and floors of the
+forecastle and sick bay with it. That is the only disinfectant I have
+aboard in quantity.
+
+At midnight I flipped the coin--heads I'd take it; tails I wouldn't. The
+coin fell heads--and I took it.
+
+Four a.m.--Mustered the crew and gave them a lecture on bubonic plague.
+I have sufficient antipest serum for four men. After explaining that it
+was Hobson's choice, I asked the men to draw matches, held in the hand
+of the first mate, to see who should be the lucky ones. They all decided
+to take a chance and go without it, with the exception of two seamen and
+the mates, who, learning that I had taken it, decided to follow suit.
+Accordingly I inoculated them with the antipest serum.
+
+Five p.m.--Inoculated myself with Haffkine's Fluid.
+
+Seven-thirty.--Seaman Ross died. Mr. Matson threw the body overboard. No
+services.
+
+Midnight.--Mr. Matson is down with it.
+
+May Fifth.--Mr. Matson very ill and delirious. Cook moping round like
+a drunken man; complains of severe headache. Wind blowing lightly from
+south-west. Everything set. Inoculated second mate and the two seamen
+with Haffkine's.
+
+May Sixth.--Mr. Matson died at noon today. Cook down with it; also
+another seaman, and Mr. Eccles, the second mate. Have altered ship's
+course and am running for Hongkong. Winds light and baffling. Have not
+made thirty miles today. Calm at midnight. Mr. Eccles died just as the
+watches were being changed. I now feel that I have escaped; so examined
+Mr. Eccles' body. He went so fast I am curious. No swelling of the
+glands at all. Am inclined to think his was pneumonic or septicaemic.
+Threw him overboard myself.
+
+May Seventh.--Light and baffling airs all day; monsoon blowing in weak
+puffs. Another seaman ill. So ends this day.
+
+May Eighth.--Cook died at noon. No buboes on him either. He turned
+kind of black. I was chief undertaker. No airs to speak of. Ship barely
+making steerage way. So ends this day.
+
+May Ninth.--Seaman Peterson died early this morning. Do not know exact
+hour. Found him dead in his berth. Another funeral; no services. Monsoon
+freshening. Made forty-eight miles today. Two more seamen on sick
+report; and, to add to my worries, they are the very two I inoculated
+with the antipest serum and Haffkine's. Is this stuff worthless?
+
+May Tenth.--Seamen Halloran and Kaiser died within an hour of each other
+this evening--Halloran at nine-thirty and Kaiser at ten-eighteen. Put
+both bodies overboard immediately.
+
+I have four seamen left, and am doing the cooking, navigating, nursing
+and undertaking. Wind freshening hourly. Made seventy-two miles today.
+Glad Florry and Cappy Ricks cannot see me now, although, for some fool
+reason, I have a notion I shall see them again. If I were going to get
+plague it would have developed before now. I feel quite safe, but most
+unhappy and worried.
+
+Midnight.--Seaman Anderson down with it. Jumped overboard to save me the
+bother of throwing him overboard about the day after to-morrow, which
+is a courtesy I did not expect of Anderson. I am obliged to him. I am
+exhausted and so are my three remaining seamen. We cannot handle the
+canvas now, so have taken in the foresail, royals, and topgallant sails,
+hauled down the flying jib and got the gaff topsail off her, leaving
+her under the jib, fore-topmast staysail, upper and lower fore-topsails,
+main-topmast staysail, mainsail and spanker. Hove her to and turned in.
+
+May Eleventh.--After a horrible breakfast, which I cooked, got under way
+again. Monsoon blowing nicely, but under the small amount of canvas I
+am forced to carry cannot make more than six miles an hour. Have decided
+not to run to Hongkong. If I am to lose my three remaining seamen I
+shall have lost them long before I sight land, and the tug or steamer
+that hooks on to me off Hongkong will stick me with a terrific salvage
+bill. If I'm going to be stuck I prefer to be stuck closer to home, and
+if I manage to keep these three men the four of us can sail her home.
+I'll take a chance and run up the coast of Asia with the Japan Stream
+until I reach the northeast monsoon. I'm certain to be spoken and can
+send word to Florry. In a pinch, at this season of the year, I can sail
+her home alone.
+
+May Fifteenth.--I am alone on the ship. Into the Japan Stream, monsoon
+blowing the sweetest it ever blew. Lucky thing for me I had the
+forethought to trim her down; otherwise I should have had to cut away a
+lot of canvas. And how Cappy Ricks would scream at the sail bill later
+on! We were hove to overnight when Borden and Jacobsen died, on the
+thirteenth. McBain complained of a headache and vertigo on the morning
+of the fourteenth; so I laid to until he died, last night. I was not
+with him when he passed. What good would it have done? I had breakfast;
+and after breakfast I found him in his berth, dead. I tossed him
+overboard, and every last rag of clothing, dunnage and blankets aboard,
+with the exception of those in my own cabin. Then I burned sulphur in
+the fore-castle, the galley, the cook's room and the stateroom formerly
+occupied by the mates, closed the doors, and hoped for the best. Slept a
+lot that day and night; and at eight this morning slacked off my spanker
+and main sheets, checked in my foreyard and topsail by taking the the
+braces to the donkey engine, and was off for home.
+
+Have established my commissary in the lee of the wheel box. Set up a
+small kerosene stove I found in the storeroom, and get along nicely. It
+is quite an art to fry eggs with one hand and steady the wheel with the
+other, but I managed it three times today. To-morrow I will cook enough
+at breakfast to last me for luncheon and supper; hence will only have to
+heat some coffee.
+
+Logged fifty-one miles by eight o'clock; then lashed the wheel and let
+her take care of herself while I got steam up in the donkey and hauled
+in my spanker and mainsail; then I slacked off my foreyard and topsail
+yards, hove her to on the port tack, hung three red lights on the
+forestay to show she wasn't under command, set my alarm clock and turned
+in. I have to smile at the ease with which one man--provided he is a
+sizable man and able to stand strain--can sail a barkentine before the
+wind in fair weather. I am not worried. I am not going to have bubonic
+plague. It is horribly lonely, but I am due for fair winds--and I should
+worry.
+
+Even if I should get a blow and have to take the lower topsail off her,
+I can lower the yard by the topsail halyards until it rests on the cap;
+then I'll skip aloft and run a knife along the head of the topsail and
+let it whip to glory. After that it may blow and be damned! All the
+clothes the old girl is wearing now will never take the sticks out of
+her. I've trimmed her down to jib, lower topsail, fore-topmast staysail,
+mainsail and spanker. Wish I dared carry the foresail. However, I
+must play safe. It is awful, though, to be in a ship as fast as the
+_Retriever_ and have to crawl the way I'm crawling. Crawl all day and
+sleep all night! Well, sometimes I can crawl all day and night and sleep
+half a day. We shall see. I used to be able to stand considerable before
+I hit the beach and got soft. The necessity for firing the donkey every
+night would soon exhaust my fuel supply; but I have a deck-load of
+hardwood logs! [Illustration: (_Excerpt from the log of Cap't Matt
+Peasley_) “I am alone on the ship--all the rest are now dead”--]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Four months had passed since the _Ecudorian_ had spoken Matt Peasley
+off the coast of Formosa; during that period no further news had been
+received in Cappy Ricks' office, although the diligent Skinner, aided
+and abetted by the waterfront reporters, managed to have a piece of
+cheering information for Florry about every two weeks. And, in order
+to forestall any possibility of some garrulous girl friend, with a
+male relative in the shipping business, “spilling the beans,” as Cappy
+expressed it, the old man had taken a house in the country, and came
+to the office only twice a week to mourn for his lost Matthew and glean
+what little comfort he could from the empty words of hope Mr. Skinner
+dispensed so lavishly.
+
+“If we can only keep Florry buoyed up with hope until the baby comes!”
+ Cappy would groan. “She's worried; but, strange to say, Skinner, she
+hasn't the slightest idea he's in any danger. Those fake cablegrams and
+reports of ships speaking Matt--each time closer to home--have done
+the trick, Skinner. Of course the boy's dead, and I killed him; but
+Florry--well, she took a trip on the _Retriever_ and knows how safe she
+is, and I've had a lot of old sailing skippers down to visit me,
+and primed them to tell her just how they would get away with such a
+proposition as Matt's--and how easy it would be. Besides, she knows Matt
+had some plague prophylactic aboard--”
+
+“Yes; and I've told her she mustn't show the white feather--for your
+sake,” Mr. Skinner interrupted; “and I think she's sensible enough to
+know she mustn't permit herself to show it--for the baby's sake.”
+
+Cappy bowed his head and shook like a hooked fish.
+
+“When the baby's two weeks old I'll tell her,” he moaned. “Oh, Skinner,
+Skinner, my dear boy, this is going to kill me! I won't last long now,
+Skinner. All my fault! I had to go butting in. That girl's heart is
+breaking with anxiety. When she comes down to breakfast, Skinner, I can
+see she's been crying all night.”
+
+“Horrible!” Mr. Skinner murmured. “Horrible! We can only hope.”
+
+On the twelfth of September Florry's baby was born. It was a boy, and
+a bouncing boy at that; and Cappy Ricks forgot for the moment he had
+rendered that baby fatherless, and came up to the city to report the
+news to Skinner.
+
+“Well, Skinner, my dear boy,” he announced with just a touch of his
+old-time jauntiness, “little Matthew just arrived! Everything lovely.”
+
+Mr. Skinner was about to formulate suitable phrases of congratulation
+when the telephone bell rang. It was Jerry Dooley up at the Merchants'
+Exchange; and he was all excitement.
+
+“Hey, Skinner,” he cried. “The _Retriever_ is passing in!”
+
+“No!” Mr. Skinner shrieked. “It isn't possible!”
+
+“It is! She's coming in the Gate now--she's right under the lookout's
+telescope; and there's only one man on deck--”
+
+Mr. Skinner turned to Cappy Ricks, put his arms round him and jerked the
+old man from one end of the office to the other.
+
+“He's safe, he's safe, he's safe, he's safe!” he howled indecorously.
+“Matt's sailing her in. He's sailing her in--”
+
+“You scoundrel!” Cappy shrilled. “Be quiet! Is she sailing in or
+towing--”
+
+“She's sailing in.”
+
+Cappy Ricks slumped down in his chair, his arms hanging weakly at his
+sides.
+
+“Yes, Skinner,” he barely whispered, “Matt's alive, after all. Nobody
+else would have the consummate crust to sail her in but him. Any other
+skipper under heaven would have hove to off the lightship and sent in
+word by the pilot boat to send out a tug. Oh, Lord, I thank Thee! I'm a
+wicked, foolish, bone-headed old man; but Lord, I do thank Thee--I do,
+indeed!”
+
+Half an hour later Cappy Ricks and Mr. Skinner, in a fast motorboat,
+came flying up the bay and caught sight of the _Retriever_ loafing
+lazily past Fort Mason. On she came, with a tiny bone in her teeth; and
+suddenly, as Cappy peered ahead through the spray that flew in over
+the bows of the launch and drenched him to the skin, the _Retriever's_
+mainsail was lowered rapidly. The vessel was falling off by the time the
+mainsail was down and Cappy and Mr. Skinner saw Matt run aft, steady
+the wheel and bring the vessel up on the wind again. She was now under
+spanker and the headsails. Matt lashed the wheel and again ran forward,
+pausing at the main-topmast-staysail halyards to cast them off and
+permit the sail to come down by the run.
+
+On to the topgallant forecastle Matt Peasley leaped, praising his Maker
+for patent anchors on the _Retriever_. With a hammer he knocked out the
+stopper; the starboard anchor dropped and the red rust flew from her
+hawsepipe as the anchor chain screamed through it. With his hand on
+the compressor of the windlass, Matt Peasley snubbed her gently to the
+forty-five fathom shackle, cast off his jib halyards to let the jib
+slide down the stay by its own weight, raced aft, and gently lowered
+the spanker as the American barkentine _Retriever_, with the yellow flag
+flying at the fore, swung gently to anchor on the quarantine grounds,
+two hundred and twenty-one days from Manila.
+
+Cappy Ricks turned to his general manager.
+
+“Pretty work, Skinner!” he said huskily. “I guess there's nothing wrong
+with that boy's health. Damn! The quarantine boat will beat us to it!
+Matt's throwing the Jacob's ladder over the side for them.”
+
+“We can't board her until she passes quarantine--” Mr. Skinner began;
+but Cappy silenced him with a terrible look.
+
+“The word can't, Skinner, was eliminated from my vocabulary some fifty
+years ago. We can--and I will! You needn't; but I've simply got to! Hey,
+you!”--to the launchman--“kick her wide open and show some speed.”
+
+Despite the warning cries from the quarantine officers in the health
+boat, the launch ran in along the _Retriever's_ side; Cappy Ricks
+grasped the Jacob's ladder as the launch rasped by and climbed up with
+an agility that caused Mr. Skinner to marvel. As his silk hat appeared
+over the _Retriever's_ rail a wind-bitten, bewhiskered, gaunt,
+hungry-looking semi-savage reached down, grasped him under the arms,
+snaked him inboard and hugged him to his heart.
+
+Silence for a minute, while Cappy Ricks' thin old shoulders shook and
+heaved as from some internal spasm, and Matt Peasley's big brown hand
+patted Cappy's back. Presently he said:
+
+“Well, father-in-law--”
+
+From somewhere in Matt Peasley's whiskers Cappy's voice came
+plaintively:
+
+“Not father-in-law, sonny. New title--this morning--six
+o'clock--nine--pounds--grandfather! Eh? Yes; grandfather! Grandpa
+Ricks!”
+
+“Boy or girl?” Matt Peasley roared, and shook the newly-elected
+grandfather.
+
+“Boy! Florry--fine--never lost hope!”
+
+A port health officer came over the rail. He shook an admonitory finger
+at Cappy Ricks.
+
+“Hey, you! Old man, you're under arrest--that is, you're in quarantine,
+and you'll have to stay aboard this ship until she's fumigated. Yes; and
+we'll fumigate you, too. Whadje mean by coming aboard ahead of us?”
+
+“Cappy,” Matt Peasley said, “tell that person to go chase himself! Why,
+there hasn't been any plague aboard the ship in nearly five months!”
+
+Cappy looked up and wiped the tears of joy out of his whiskers.
+
+“Scoundrel!” he cackled. “Infernal young scoundrel! What do you mean by
+risking my _Retriever_, sailing her through the Gate with a crew of one
+man?”
+
+“Take a look at me!” Matt laughed. “I'm all hands! And didn't I prove
+I'm enough men to handle her? The pilots wouldn't board me, and by
+sailing her in myself I saved pilotage and salvage claims. I lost the
+lower topsail and the consignees are going to find a shortage in those
+hardwood logs; but that's all--except that I haven't had a decent meal
+in God knows when. Say, Cappy, what does he look like? A Peasley or a
+Ricks?”
+
+“Both,” Cappy chirped diplomatically. “Matt, are you all over the
+blue-water fever?”
+
+“You bet!” he declared. “No more relief jobs for me. I've had plenty,
+although it might have been worse. It was lonely and sometimes I thought
+I was going crazy. Used to talk out loud to myself! I had some awful
+weather; but I just tucked her head under her wing and let her roll,
+and after I ran into the northeast monsoon, and later into the westerly
+winds, I had it easier and got more rest. You know, Cappy, when a
+ship is sailing on the wind, if you lash her helm a little bit below
+amidships she'll steer herself. Slow work, but--I got here; and, now
+that I'm here, I'm going to stay here.
+
+“Of course, Cappy,” he added, “I've just got to have something with
+sails to play with; but no more offshore sailing in mine--that is--well,
+I'm going to stay home for a long time--after a while, maybe--and
+meantime I'm going to build a little schooner yacht--”
+
+“For the love of Mike, do!” Cappy pleaded. “I'll be stuck in quarantine
+with you for a couple of days and we'll kill time drawing up a rough
+set of plans. And when that schooner yacht is ready, Matt, I'll tell you
+what I want you to do.”
+
+“What, Cappy?”
+
+“Send the bill to grandpa, Matthew!”
+
+“If I hadn't been a case-hardened old fool I'd have cheered you on when
+you wanted to build that schooner yacht last year. I'd have saved myself
+a world of grief.”
+
+He placed his hand gently on Matt's shoulder and his face was ineffably
+sad as he continued: “Of course, with you away and your fate undecided,
+as it were, Matt, that infernal Skinner wasn't worth two hoots in a
+hollow. Why, the boy flopped around the office like a rooster with its
+head off, and as a result I've had to come out of my retirement and keep
+an eye on things. Thank God, I can let go now. Really, Matt, you have
+no idea how I long to separate myself from the hurly-burly of California
+street. What I want is peace and seclusion--”
+
+“You can have my share of that commodity for the remainder of my natural
+life,” Matt laughed happily, “I want noise and people. I want screaming
+and yelling and fighting and risks and profits and losses and liars and
+scoundrels and honest men all inextricably mixed.” He tossed his great
+sun-tanned arms above his head. “Lord, I want Life,” he half shouted.
+
+Cappy sighed. These young pups! When they grow to see life as old dogs--
+
+“Well, Matt, all I've got to say is that the first man that butts into
+my private office and starts unloading a cargo of grief on me, is going
+to get busted between the eyes with a paper weight. I'm through with
+grief and woe. I don't give a hoot what happens to the world or anybody
+in it. I want peace and a rest. I can afford it and wouldn't I be a
+first-class idiot not to take it while the taking is good, Matt?”
+
+“No more mixing in the shipping end, eh?” Matt asked hopefully.
+
+Cappy raised his right hand solemnly. “Never again, Matt. I'm through
+with ships and sailors and cargoes and the whole cussed Blue Star fleet
+can sink and be damned to it, but I'll not lift a hand to save it. I'm
+THROUGH.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+ALAS! Man proposes, but God disposes. Cappy had smoked his post-prandial
+cigar next day and was in the midst of his mid-afternoon siesta, when
+the buzzer on his desk waked him with its insistent buzzing. He reached
+for the telephone.
+
+“My dear,” he reproved his private exchange operator, “how often have I
+told you not to disturb me between two and three o'clock?”
+
+“I knew you wouldn't mind being disturbed this afternoon, Mr. Ricks.
+Your old friend Mr. Gurney, of New York, is calling.”
+
+“Old Joe Gurney? By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! Show him in.” Cappy
+was at the door to meet his visitor when the latter entered. Mr Joseph
+Gurney, senior partner of the firm of Gurney & Harlan, was, like Cappy
+Ricks, a shiping man and a Down-Easter. He and Cappy Ricks had been a
+boyhood friends in Thomaston, Main, and Gurney & Harlan were the agents
+and controlling owners of the Red Funnel line plying between New York
+and ports on the West Coast.
+
+“Well, Joe, you doddering old pirate?” cried Cappy Ricks affectionately.
+“Come in and rest your hands and feet. I'm tremendously glad to see you.
+When did you drift into down?”
+
+He shook hands with Gurney and steered him toward a chair.
+
+“Ten minutes ago, Alden, my boy. Delighted to see you again, and
+particularly pleased to see how carelessly you carry your years. I'm
+three months younger than you--and I feel like the last rose of summer.”
+
+“You look it, Joe. Take a leaf out of my book and let the young fellows
+'tend to business for you. Don't let worry ride over you in the shank
+of your old age, my boy. I never do. Haven't paid a bit of attention to
+business in the last ten years, and that's why at my age I'm looking so
+fit.”
+
+“You'll live to be a hundred, Alden.”
+
+Cappy smiled.
+
+“Well,” he declared, “I'm going to live while I have the time. I never
+expect to be a walking corpse just stalling round in an effort to defer
+settlement with the undertaker, and I won't be a dead one until the
+neighbors hear a quartet singing Lead Kindly Light out at my house--Joe
+you look worried. Anything gone wrong with you, old friend? Need some
+money? Have you married a young wife?”
+
+“It's Joey,” Gurney confessed miserably.
+
+“What? My godson, little Joey Gurney?”
+
+“He's big Joey Gurney now.”
+
+“Yes, and a fine boy, Joe--no thanks to you. His mother's influence
+was strong enough to counteract any impulses for crime he might have
+inherited from his father.”
+
+Gurney smiled sadly at Cappy Ricks' badinage.
+
+“He is a fine boy, Alden, but--he's only a boy, and I'm afraid he's
+going to make hash of his young life before it's fairly started.”
+
+“Booze?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well, then where did he first meet this woman?”
+
+Joe Gurney, Senior, hitched his chair close to his friend's and laid an
+impressive hand on Cappy's knee.
+
+“Alden,” he said feelingly, “you and I have been friends, man and boy,
+for about sixty-five years. I believe we were five years old when we
+robbed Deacon Follansbee's beehive and got stung to death.”
+
+“Yes, and we've both been getting stung more or less ever since,
+only somehow we still manage to recover and be none the worse for the
+experience. At least, Joe, we learned about bees. When it comes to boys,
+however, I've still got my experience coming. My little chap died when
+he was twelve, you know. I've never quite gotten over his loss; in fact,
+Joe, I was dreaming of him a minute ago when you called.”
+
+“You had him long enough, Alden, to realize how I feel about Joey.”
+
+Cappy nodded. “Let's see,” he answered, reflectively pulling his
+whiskers, “Joey must be about twenty-four years old now, isn't he?”
+
+“Twenty-four last Tuesday; and at twenty-five he comes into his mother's
+fortune. I've managed his little nest egg pretty well, Alden; invested
+it all in the vessel property of Gurney & Harlan, and since the war
+started I've swelled what originally was a quarter of a million to
+about a million and a half. His stock in the Red Funnel Line is worth a
+million at the very least, and the remaining half million is represented
+by cold cash in bank and bonds that can be converted into cash
+overnight.
+
+“Hum-m-m! Harumph-h-h! Quite a fortune for a youth of a twenty-five to
+be intrusted with. I'll bet somebody will take it away from him before
+he's thirty.”
+
+“That's a safe bet, Alden. He has a candidate for his money on his trail
+right now.”
+
+“And he doesn't realize it?”
+
+“Alden, he's only twenty-four years old. What does a boy know at
+twenty-four?”
+
+“Well, Joe, you and I had accumulated a heap of experience and hard
+knocks at that age, and I seem to remember we each had a little money
+we'd managed to save here and there. I don't agree with you at all
+on this twenty-four-year-old excuse. My son-in-law, Matt Peasley--you
+remember the Peasleys of Thomaston; Matt's a nephew of Ethan, who was
+lost off the main yard of the _Martha Peasley_--was holding a master's
+ticket for sail, any ocean and any tonnage, before he was twenty-one.
+He's not much older than your Joey right now, but, nevertheless, he's
+president of the Blue Star Navigation Company and worth a million and a
+half, every dollar of which he has made by his own energy and ability.”
+
+“Well, of course, Alden, there are exceptions to every rule.”
+
+“Not if you raise 'em right and you've got the right kind of stock to
+work on and the boy is healthy and normal. Now I know your Joey comes
+from the right stock; I know his mother raised him right until he was
+sixteen when the good Lord took her away from you both; and I know he is
+healthy and normal. Hasn't he proved that by falling in love? The only
+conclusion I can draw, therefore, is that you've made a monkey out of
+him, Joe Gurney.”
+
+“Perhaps I have, Alden; perhaps I have,” Gurney replied sadly.
+
+“No 'perhaps' about it. I know you have. You sent him to college and
+gave him ten thousand dollars a year to spend. If you wanted to give
+him a fine education and turn out a man and a gentleman you might have
+gotten him into the Naval Academy at Annapolis, where he would have
+learned something of ships and graduated with a master's ticket; after
+serving a few years and getting the corners knocked off him he could
+have resigned and you would have had a sane, dependable man to sit in at
+your desk when you're gone. By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, Joe Gurney,
+you make me sick! You're like every other damphool American father who
+accumulates a few million dollars in excess of his legitimate needs and
+then gets all puffed up with the notion he's got to give his son all the
+so-called advantages his own parents were too poor to afford him--or too
+sensible. The result is you turn out an undeveloped or over-developed
+boob, too proud to work and not able to take a real man's place in the
+world because he hasn't been taught how. And in the course of time he
+marries a female boob who has been raised according to the same general
+specifications, and nine times out of ten she's too refined to be
+bothered with a family. And presently there's a trip out to Reno and the
+little squib in the paper and--er--ahem! Drat your picture, Joe, you're
+the responsible party. You created a ten-thousand-dollar-a-year parasite
+on the body politic while your boy was still in his teens, and now you
+want to know what the devil to do about it, don't you?”
+
+“That's exactly what I want to know, Alden,” Gurney confessed miserably,
+“and I've crossed the continent to get your advice. I haven't very many
+real friends--the kind I can open my heart to--”
+
+“Tut, tut, Joe. Enough of vain repining. Now then, old friend, let's get
+to the bottom of this thing and see if we can't buy this wreck in from
+the underwriters, salvage it and put it in commission again. Never
+say die, Joe! Where there's a will there's a lawsuit or a
+heartache--particularly if the estate makes it worth while. Now then,
+Joe, you must realize that it's the fashion nowadays, when a fellow has
+to consult a specialist, to give his personal and family history
+for three generations back before receiving treatment. So if I am to
+diagnose Joey's case I'll have to have a history of Joey. Now then! He
+graduated from college at the age of twenty-two did he not?”
+
+“He didn't graduate, Alden. He was requested to leave.”
+
+“Hum-m-m! I didn't know that. What for?”
+
+“General uselessness and animal spirits, I suppose. It wasn't anything
+dishonorable. The main contributory cause was an alleged poem lampooning
+some individual they called Prexy.”
+
+“Hum-m-m! And since leaving college what has he done?”
+
+“I've had him in my office.”
+
+“Joe, answer my question. I know you've had him in your office. But what
+has he done? Has he earned his salary?”
+
+“I'm afraid he hasn't, Alden. Somehow golf and tennis and week-end
+parties and yachting and big-game hunting in Alaska and tarpon fishing
+in Florida sort of interfere with business.”
+
+“Well, that isn't much of a crime, Joe. I never had time to do those
+highly enjoyable things and I couldn't afford them. When I could afford
+them and had time to do them I was too old. You say the boy is fond of
+yachting?”
+
+“It's his greatest hobby. In his taste for salt water he at least
+resembles his ancestors. The Gurneys were all sailors and shipping men.”
+
+“Is he a good yachtsman, Joe?”
+
+“He has a schooner that's a hundred and six feet over all and he seems
+to win pretty regularly with her. I never knew him to get worse than
+second place in all the races he has entered.”
+
+“Too bad,” Cappy Ricks murmured sadly. “A noble ambition absolutely
+misdirected. He would have been a skipper and, lastly, a good shipping
+man if you had only managed him like a sensible father should. Now about
+this girl he's in love with?”
+
+“That happened about three months ago. He met her at one of those
+roof-garden, midnight cabaret, turkey-trot palaces in New York--”
+
+“Yes, I know. I always take in the sights when I go to New York, but
+the last time I was at that one up near Fifty-fourth Street the noise
+bothered me. And the show was very poor; in fact, after seeing it I made
+up my mind I was off cabaret stuff for keeps.”
+
+“You ancient scalawag! What were you doing in a place like that?”
+
+“Seeing life as it ought not to be, of course. Your boy Joey took me up
+there, by the way. In-fer-nal young scoundrel! He showed me the town and
+we had quite a time together.”
+
+Joe Gurney's old eyes popped with amazement.
+
+“You went batting round with my Joey--an old ruin like you?”
+
+“Why not? We behaved ourselves, and besides I always trot a heat with
+the young fellows whenever I get a chance. It keeps me young. I
+enjoyed Joey a heap, although I could see he was a jolly young jackass.
+Moreover, I'm his godfather, and I guess it was all right for me to tag
+along and see to it that my godson didn't get into deep water close to
+the shore, wasn't it? Don't you ever step out with Joey and get your
+nose wet?”
+
+“Certainly not!”
+
+Cappy Ricks smiled wistfully.
+
+“If I had a son I'd pal up with him,” he declared. “I'd want to get out
+with him and raise a little dignified hell once in a while, just to be a
+human being and keep him from being a mollycoddle. Ahem! Harumph. So he
+flagged this damsel in the leg show, eh?”
+
+Joe Gurney nodded miserably.
+
+“Have you given her the once over?” Cappy demanded.
+
+“Yes, I went up there one night. I was afraid somebody would see me, so
+I took along Joey's aunt, Matilda. We saw the young woman. She does a
+dance specialty--an alleged Hawaiian hula-hula. It's fake from start to
+finish.”
+
+“You show a guilty technical knowledge of the hula, Joe,” Cappy reminded
+him. “But passing that, what's the latest report on the situation?”
+
+“Horrible, Alden, horrible!” replied Joe Gurney.
+
+“Careful, Joe, careful! Many a wheat-straw skirt and sharks'-teeth
+necklace may conceal a pure and honest heart.”
+
+“Well, she's been married twice and divorced once, to begin with, and--”
+
+“That's a-plenty, Joe.”
+
+“And she has just completed her contract in the show and gone out to
+Reno to acquire a six months' residence in order to get rid of husband
+number two so she can take on Joey.”
+
+“Who told you all this?”
+
+“I found it out--by asking.”
+
+“Have you told Joey?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Does he know it?”
+
+Gurney nodded.
+
+“I had one of his young friends, whom I can trust, tip him off in
+confidence. The news didn't make any difference to Joey. He asked her
+about it, and she explained it all away to his entire satisfaction.”
+
+“I dare say. And you haven't given any indication to your son that
+you're on to him and his love affair?”
+
+“I thought best to pretend ignorance, pending my arrival at a solution
+of the difficulty.”
+
+“Therein you showed a gleam of real intelligence. Having humored your
+boy all his life you could not expect to cross him in his first love
+affair and get away with it. No, sir-ree! The thing to do is to put the
+skids under Joey and his lady love before they know you know it. Tell me
+more about her, however, before I begin making skids and skid grease.”
+
+“She is thirty-one years old--”
+
+Cappy Ricks threw up both hands.
+
+“Farewell, O my countrymen!” he murmured.
+
+“She has two children--one by her first husband and one by her second.
+They're living with her mother. She supports them from the proceeds of
+her hula dancing.”
+
+“Score a white mark for her, Joe. Is she a good looker?”
+
+“A brunette, Alden, and Joey's Aunt Matilda admitted against her will
+that she was a beauty. My lawyer tells me, however, that she hasn't an
+ounce of brains, and proclaims the fact by laughing loudly when there is
+nothing particularly worth laughing at.”
+
+“I imagine you've had a detective agency investigating her.”
+
+“I have. She has little education and no refinement; her people are very
+ordinary. Her father is a whitewing in Philadelphia and is separated
+from her mother, who keeps a boarding house in Muncie, Indiana.”
+
+“I'm afraid, Joe, she won't do for your daughter-in-law,” Cappy Ricks
+opined slowly. “But don't worry, my boy. You've come all the way from
+New York to confide in me and get my advice, and somehow I have a
+sneaking notion you've come to the right shop. If there's anybody
+calculated to put a crimp in love's young dream, I'm that individual.”
+
+“I knew Joey and you were good friends, and besides, you're his
+godfather. He thinks a lot of you, Alden, and I kind of thought maybe
+you might come East with me, see the boy, get him to confide in you
+and--er--sort of advise him in the way he should go. I'm--er--well,
+Alden, I'm afraid I feel too badly about this to talk to Joey. I might
+lose my temper, and besides--besides, he's all I have and he reminds me
+so much of his mother that I--”
+
+“Yes, yes, I understand, Joe. Leave it to me and I'll advise with him.
+Yes, I will--with an ax handle! And I'll go East with you and tie knots
+in his tail--only he won't know anything about it. It may cost you a
+little money, but I assume expense is no object.”
+
+“It would be cheap at a million.”
+
+“Where that boy and your money are concerned you're such an ass, Joe,
+I'm almost tempted to charge you a million extra for the operation.
+However, considering Deacon Follansbee's beehive, and Joey's mother and
+my godson--”
+
+Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his, that trembled so
+with age and anxiety.
+
+“Dear old Alden,” he declared. “I knew you wouldn't fail me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+For a long time after old Joe Gurney had terminated his visit Cappy
+Ricks sat in the position which with him always denoted intense mental
+concentration. He had sunk low in his swivel chair and swung his old
+legs to the top of his desk; his head was bowed on his breast and his
+eyes were closed.
+
+Suddenly he started as if snake-bitten, sat up at his desk and reached
+for the telephone.
+
+“Get me the West Coast Trading Company,” he ordered the private exchange
+operator, “and tell Mr. J. Augustus Redell I want to speak to him.”
+
+Redell answered presently.
+
+“Gus, my dear young friend,” Cappy began briskly, “I want you to do me a
+favor, and in so doing I think you'll find you are going to perform one
+for yourself also.”
+
+“Good news, Cappy. Consider it done.”
+
+“Thank you, my boy, but this particular favor isn't done quite so
+quickly. I want you to tell that Peruvian partner of yours, Live
+Wire Luiz Almeida to dig up a specification for a cargo of fir to be
+discharged on lighters at some open roadstead on the West Coast, and the
+more open the port and the more difficult it is to discharge there;
+and the harder it is to get any sane shipowner to charter a vessel to
+deliver a cargo there, the better I'll be pleased. Surely, Gus, you must
+have a customer down on the West Coast in some such port as I describe,
+who is actually watering at the mouth for a cargo of lumber and is
+unable to place it with a mill that will guarantee delivery? Look into
+the matter, Augustus, and see what you can do for me.”
+
+“Do you want to furnish such a cargo from one of the Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company's northern mills and freight it in one of your Blue Star
+Navigation Company vessels?”
+
+“No, I don't want to do it,” Cappy replied; “but in this particular case
+the acceptance of such a cargo and the freighting of it via a Blue Star
+windjammer, even though the usual demurrage at such discharging ports
+will cause the vessel a loss, is a consummation devoutly to be wished.
+Ordinarily, if you made such a proposition to me I'd call in the boys
+from the general office and tell them to throw you out, but--well, in
+this case I'm willing to stand the loss, Augustus.”
+
+“Yes, you are--not. Somebody else will recompense you for any loss, Cappy
+Ricks, never fear. Do you want the West Coast Trading Company to give
+you a bonus for accepting our order?”
+
+“No, my boy. I'll make Skinner sell you the lumber at the regular base
+price at the mill, plus insurance and freight to point of discharge. And
+I won't stick you too deep on the freight, even in wartime.”
+
+“There's something wrong with you this morning, Cappy,” Redell declared,
+highly mystified. “You're too obliging. However, I'm not to be outgamed.
+I have a specification for a cargo of half a million feet for delivery
+at Sobre Vista, Peru; I've been trying for a month to place the order
+and nobody will accept it because nobody wants to guarantee delivery. On
+the other hand, the purchasers have been unable to get any ship owner
+to charter them a vessel to go to Sobre Vista without a guaranty of a
+perfectly prohibitive rate of demurrage per diem; consequently I had
+just about abandoned my efforts to place the order.”
+
+“Fine business, Gus. And is Sobre Vista a rotten port at which to
+discharge?”
+
+“It's vile, Cappy. It's an open roadstead and the vessel lies off-shore
+and discharges into lighters. About four days a week the surf is so high
+the lighters cannot lie alongside the ship or be run up on the beach
+without being ruined, and to complicate the situation they only have
+two or three lighters at the port. Labor is scarce, too, and the few
+_cargadores_ a skipper can hire have a habit of working two days and
+staying drunk for the remainder of the week on the proceeds of those two
+days of labor. So you can see for yourself that discharge in Sobre Vista
+is very hard on the skipper's nerves, and that if he can work two days
+a week he's in luck. And when we deduct from those two days all the
+national holidays and holy days and saints' feast days that have to be
+duly celebrated, not to mention the three hundred and sixty-five days in
+the year the populace doesn't feel like exerting itself--well, Cappy,
+I couldn't give you anything worse than Sobre Vista if you paid me for
+it.”
+
+“May the good Lord bless you, Augustus! Come down and do business with
+Skinner on the cargo. Get him to quote you a price f.o.b. ship's tackles
+at the mill dock and tell him you'll furnish the tonnage when the cargo
+is ready for delivery. There's no sense in worrying poor Skinner until
+his worries are due, and when I send a Blue Star schooner to load your
+cargo for Sobre Vista I'm going to have to fight him and my son-in-law,
+Matt Peasley. But leave it to me, Gus. I'll guarantee the tonnage.”
+
+“This is certainly wonderful,” the grateful Redell observed. “Thank you,
+Cappy. What I'll do to those Peruvian customers of mine on price will be
+a shame and a disgrace. Are you going to stick me for any demurrage on
+the vessel, Cappy? Because if you are, I'll have to stick my customers
+in order to get out clean.”
+
+“No demurrage, Gus, not a penny.”
+
+“Bully! Then I'll stick my customers anyhow. It makes the profit all the
+greater, and since they expect to pay a reasonable demurrage I see no
+reason why I should disappoint them.”
+
+When Redell had hung up Cappy summoned into his presence Captain Matt
+Peasley.
+
+“Matt,” he queried, “what schooners have you got due at any one of our
+northern mills within the next thirty days?”
+
+Matt Peasley pondered and counted on his big fingers. “The _Tyee_ will
+be in from Valparaiso about that time,” he answered.
+
+“Have you got her chartered?”
+
+“Oh, no. We're using her in our own trade. Skinner will have a cargo
+ready for her by the time she gets back, although we don't know yet
+where we will send her.”
+
+“Well, Matt, you tell Skinner he can't have her and to look around for
+some other vessel to take her place. I may give her to him at the last
+minute, but then again I may not. When she arrives at the mill, Matthew,
+my boy, tie her up to the mill dock to await my pleasure.”
+
+“Why, what the devil are you going to do with the _Tyee?_” Matt
+demanded, astounded beyond measure.
+
+“I might want to take a cruise for my health and use the _Tyee_ as a
+pleasure boat,” Cappy answered enigmatically. “They tell me she's as
+fast as a yacht in a breeze of wind.”
+
+“The longer I'm acquainted with you, father-in-law,” Matt Peasley
+declared, “the less I know you. You can have your _Tyee_, but for every
+day she is held awaiting your pleasure your personal account will be
+charged with something in three figures. I'll figure out her average
+profit per day for the last five voyages and soak you accordingly.”
+
+“Fair enough,” quoth Cappy Ricks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+Three weeks later Alden P. Ricks arrived in New York. After he had been
+driven to his hotel and had removed the stains of travel he telephoned
+the office of Gurney & Harlan and got Gurney, Senior, on the line.
+
+“Well, I'm here, Joe,” he announced. “Have you followed my instructions
+and cut Joey off at the pockets?”
+
+“I have, Alden. He's rather desperate as a result, and has been
+trying to borrow money by hypothecating the inheritance due him on his
+twenty-fifth birthday. You see, I didn't give him a second's notice;
+just told him he was spending too much time in play and too much money
+for pleasure, and that until he came into his private fortune he would
+have to earn any money he desired to spend. I have been very firm.”
+
+“That's the stuff, Joe. And is he trying to earn it?”
+
+“Yes, I think so. He's sticking round the office at any rate.”
+
+“Hum-m-m! That's because it costs money to go anywhere else. Has
+he succeeded in raising a loan by assigning an interest in his
+inheritance?”
+
+“No, not yet. I blocked him at all the banks and with my old friends,
+and I do not think he can borrow as much as he needs from any of his
+friends. They, like him of course, are dependent on their fathers'
+generosity.”
+
+“Fine way to raise a boy! Bully. Well, I'll be down to your office in
+about an hour and take you and Joey to luncheon at India House. You
+haven't forgotten what I wrote you, Joe? You know your part, don't you?
+. . . Well, see that you play your hand well and we'll save that boy
+yet.”
+
+Two hours later the Gurneys were lunching with Cappy Ricks at the one
+New York club to which Cappy belonged--quaint old India House in
+Hanover Square, haunt of shipping men and shippers, perhaps the best and
+least-known club in New York City. Joey had been unaffectedly glad to
+see his godfather; so much so, indeed, that Cappy rightly guessed Joey
+had designs on the Ricks pocketbook; for after all, as Cappy admitted
+to himself, he is a curmudgeon of a godfather indeed who will refuse to
+loan his godson a much needed twenty-five thousand dollars on gilt-edged
+security. In expectation of an application for a loan before the day
+should be done, however, Cappy was careful not to be alone with Joey
+for an instant, for something told him that only the presence of Gurney,
+Senior, kept Gurney Junior from promptly putting his fortune to the
+touch.
+
+“Well, Joey, you young cut-up,” Cappy began as the trio settled in the
+smoking room and the waiter brought the coffee and cigars, “I see you're
+getting to be quite an amateur sailor. Your Dad tells me you won your
+last race with that schooner yacht of yours in rather pretty fashion.”
+
+“It was a bully race, Mr. Ricks. I wish you could have been aboard with
+me,” Joey declared enthusiastically.
+
+“Hum-m-m! Catch me on a yacht!” Cappy's tones were indicative of
+profound disgust.
+
+“Ricks, you're a kill-joy,” old Gurney struck in. “All you think of
+is making money, and you've made so much of it I should think the game
+would have palled on you long ago. I tell Joey to go it while he's
+young--while he has the capacity for enjoyment.”
+
+“Joe, I tell you now, as I've told you before, you're spoiling this boy.
+When he's twenty-five years old he comes into a fortune and you're
+not even preparing him for the task of handling that money wisely. You
+bought Joey that schooner yacht, didn't you?”
+
+“I bought her cheap,” old Joe Gurney protested lamely.
+
+“They cost a fortune to maintain, Joe. Now if Joey wanted some
+salt-water experience you should have sent him to sea as quartermaster
+on one of your own Red Funnel liners; presently he would have worked up
+to second mate; then first mate, and finally skipper. By that time he
+would have known the salt-water end of his father's business, after
+which he could sit in at a desk and learn the business end. Somehow,
+Joe, when I see a shipping man's son fooling away his time on a pleasure
+yacht instead of learning the shipping business, I feel as if I'd just
+taken a dose of ipecac.”
+
+“Godfather is out of sorts,” Joey soliloquized sagely, and resolved to
+wait a day or two before broaching the subject of a loan. Cappy Ricks
+surveyed the young fellow severely.
+
+“Joey,” he began, “I've no doubt you're quite a sailor on your handsome
+yacht, in your yachting uniform, with all the real head work to be done
+by your sailing master--”
+
+“Not a bit of it,” Joey protested. “I'm not that kind of a yachtsman.
+I'm the captain tight and the midshipmite, and the crew take orders from
+me, because I don't employ a sailing master.”
+
+“Do you mean to tell me that when you go on a cruise to the West Indies
+you navigate the yacht yourself--lay out your own courses and work out
+your own position?”
+
+Joey smiled patronizingly.
+
+“Certainly,” he replied. “That's easy.”
+
+“Sure. Play is always easy. But let me tell you, young man, if you had
+command of a big three-legged windjammer, with a deckload of heavy green
+lumber fresh from the saws, and ran into a stiff sou'-easter such as we
+have out on the Pacific coast, you'd know what real sailoring is like.”
+
+“Joey could handle her like that,” old Gurney declared with pride, and
+snapped his fingers.
+
+“Could you, Joey?” Cappy Ricks demanded. “I have my doubts.”
+
+“Why, I think so, Mr. Ricks. I might be a little cautious at first--”
+
+“Well, I don't think you could,” Cappy interrupted.
+
+“Well, I do,” old Gurney declared with some warmth. “I've been out with
+Joey on his yacht and I know what the boy can do.”
+
+“Bah! You're a doddering old softy, Joe. Yachting is one thing and
+sailoring is another. I have an old lumber hooker on Gray's Harbor now,
+loading for a port in Peru, and I'd certainly love to see Joey with her
+on his hands. I'll bet fifty thousand dollars he couldn't sail her down
+to Sobre Vista, discharge her and sail back inside of six months.” The
+old schemer chuckled. “Lordy me,” he continued, “I'd like to see Joey
+trying to make her point up into the wind! She'd break his heart.”
+
+“Look here, Alden,” Old Joe Gurney commenced to bristle. “Are you
+serious about that or are you just making conversation bets? Because if
+you're serious I'm just shipping man enough to call you for the sheer
+sporting joy of it.”
+
+“By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, you're on!” Cappy Ricks almost yelled.
+“Put up or shut up--that is, provided Joey is as big a sport as his
+father and will undertake to sail my schooner _Tyee_ to Sobre Vista and
+back.”
+
+“Oh, she's a schooner!” There was relief in Joey's voice. “Why, I'll
+sail any vessel with a fore-and-aft rig. I thought perhaps you were
+trying to ring in a square-rigger on me, and I'm not familiar with them.
+But a schooner--pooh! Pie for little Joey!”
+
+“She's got three legs, and with a deck-load of lumber she's cranky and
+topheavy. I'm warning you, Joey. Remember he is a poor ship owner who
+doesn't know his own ship.”
+
+Joey got up and went to a map laid out on a table, with a piece of plate
+glass over it, to compute the sailing distance from Gray's Harbor to
+Sobre Vista. He could not find Sobre Vista on the map.
+
+“Figure the distance to Mollendo and you'll be close enough for all
+practical purposes,” Cappy called to him, and winked at the boy's
+father. “A little pep, here, boy,” he whispered to Gurney, “and we'll
+snare him yet.”
+
+Joey came back from his study of the map.
+
+“I'd have the nor'west trades clear to the Line,” he remarked to his
+father. “After that I'd be liable to bang round for a couple of weeks in
+the doldrums, but in spite of that--did you say I couldn't do it in six
+months, Mr. Ricks?”
+
+“That's what I said, Joey.”
+
+“Take the bet, dad,” said Joey quietly, “and I'll take half of it
+off your hands. I'll give you my note, secured by an assignment of a
+twenty-five-thousand-dollar interest in mother's estate to secure you in
+case Mr. Ricks should win and call you for his winnings--but he hasn't a
+chance in the world.”
+
+“Money talks,” Cappy Ricks warned him and got out his check book. “Joe,
+I'll make a check in your favor for fifty thousand dollars and you make
+one in my favor for the same amount. We will then deposit both checks
+with the secretary of the club, who will act as stakeholder--”
+
+“'Nuff said, Alden P. Ricks. I accept the dare. Sonny, if you're a worse
+sailor-man than you appear to be, you're liable to cost your father a
+sizable wad. However, I can't resist this opportunity to put a nick in
+the Ricks bank roll.” Gurney snickered. “Alden,” he declared, “you'll
+bleed for a month of Sundays. Really, this is too easy! For old sake's
+sake, I'll give you a chance to withdraw before it is too late.”
+
+“Let the tail go with the hide, Joe. I don't often bet, but when I
+do I'm no piker. Joey, there's just one little condition I'm going to
+exact, however. I'm going to send one of my own skippers along with
+you on the _Tyee_, because your license as master only permits you to
+skipper pleasure boats up to a hundred tons net register; so in order to
+comply with the law I'll have to have a sure-enough skipper aboard the
+_Tyee_. But he shall have orders from me to be nothing but a companion
+to you, Joey. Once the tugboat casts you off, you are to be in supreme
+command until you voluntarily relinquish your authority, when of course
+he will take the ship off your hands. Any relinquishment of authority,
+however, will be tantamount to failure, and you will, of course, lose
+your twenty-five thousand.”
+
+“That's a reasonable stipulation, godfather. I accept if father
+does--that is, provided dad lets me in on half the bet.”
+
+“Better let the young feller in, Joe,” Cappy suggested. “If you don't he
+might throw the race.”
+
+“Well, I don't like to encourage the habit of betting, least of all with
+my own son, but in view of the fact that this is a friendly little bet
+and--er--well, you can have half, Joey.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said Joey. “Mr. Ricks, when do I start?”
+
+Cappy Ricks glanced at his watch.
+
+“The sooner the better,” he replied. “The _Tyee_ is loading now, but
+I'll wire them you're coming and to hold her for you. You have time to
+arrange your affairs, pack a trunk and catch the Lake Shore Limited for
+Chicago at five o'clock. From Chicago you take the--”
+
+“Never mind. I know the quickest route. Dad, I'll need some money before
+I go.”
+
+“How much, son?”
+
+“Oh, a couple of thousand, just to play safe. And I'll have to leave you
+a batch of bills to settle for me.”
+
+“All right, son, I'll settle them. Here's your two thousand. You can pay
+me back out of your winnings on the voyage. And never mind about your
+note or the assignment of an interest in your inheritance. If I cannot
+take my own son's word of honor I don't deserve a son. Just take care
+of yourself, Joey, because if anything should happen to you it would go
+rather hard with your old man.”
+
+He wrote Joey a check for two thousand dollars and took an affectionate
+farewell of his son.
+
+“Now listen to me, my dear young Hotspur,” Cappy Ricks commanded him
+as he shook Joey's hand in farewell. “The schooner's name is _Tyee_ and
+you'll find her at the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company's mill dock in
+Aberdeen, on Gray's Harbor, Washington. And don't be afraid of her. She
+was built to weather anything. The skipper's name is Mike Murphy, and if
+you can't get along with Mike and learn to love him before you're in the
+ship a week, there's something wrong with you, Joey. Just don't start
+anything with Mike though, because he always finishes strong, and
+whatever he does is always right--with me. When you get out there he'll
+show you the orders I will have telegraphed him and you have my word
+of honor, boy, that there'll be no double-crossing and no interference
+unless you request it.”
+
+“Right-o!” cried Joey, and was off to earn twenty-five thousand dollars
+of the easiest money he had ever heard of.
+
+“Like spearing a fish in a bathtub,” murmured Cappy Ricks dreamily, and
+tore up the fifty-thousand-dollar check he had just written. “Joe, if
+your boy is such easy game for a pair of old duffers like us, just think
+what soft picking he must have been for that nimble-footed lady with the
+raven hair, the pearly teeth and the eyes that won't behave!”
+
+“But she's coarse and brainless, Alden. I can't imagine a boy like my
+Joey falling in love with a woman like that. He ought to know better.
+Just remember how he was raised.”
+
+“Fooey! Joey isn't in love. He only thinks he is, and the reason he
+thinks it is because she has told him so a hundred times. Can't you just
+see her looking up at Joey with her startled-fawn eyes and saying: 'Oh,
+you do love me, don't you, Joey?' As if the fact that Joey loved her
+constituted the eighth wonder of the world! And she's probably told Joey
+she'll die if he ever ceases to love her; and he's kind and obliging and
+wouldn't hurt a fly if he could avoid it. Why, Joe, you old idiot, you
+mustn't feel that Joey has disgraced himself. Isn't he planning to marry
+the woman? Only a decent man--a born idealist--could hold that designing
+woman in such reverence. Blamed if it isn't kind of sweet of the boy,
+although I _would_ love to give him a kick that would jar all his
+relations--including his father!”
+
+Old Joe Gurney gazed at Cappy in admiration.
+
+“Alden,” he declared, “you have a singularly acute knowledge of women.”
+
+“I employ about fifteen of 'em round my office; I had several narrow
+escapes in my youth; I have had a sweet and wonderful wife--and I have a
+replica of her in my daughter. And I do know young men, for I have been
+young myself; and I know old fools like you, Joe, because I've never had
+a son to make an old fool of myself over.”
+
+“Well, now that you've hooked Joey for a six months' voyage, what's next
+on the program?” Gurney asked after a brief silence.
+
+Cappy smiled--a prescient little smile.
+
+“Why, I'm going to pull off a wedding,” he declared. “I'm going to marry
+Joey to the sweetest, nicest, healthiest, prettiest, brainiest
+little lady of twenty summers that ever threatened to put the Ricks
+organization on the toboggan. She's my private secretary and I've got
+to get rid of her or some of the young fellows in our office will be
+killing each other.”
+
+“Here, here, Alden, my boy, go slow! I ought to be consulted in this
+matter. Who is this young lady and what are her antecedents?”
+
+“Say, who's running this layout?” Cappy demanded. “Didn't you come to me
+squealing for help? Joe, take a back seat and let me try my hand without
+any advice from you. The girl's name is Doris Kenyon and she's an
+orphan. Her father used to be the general manager of my redwood mill on
+Humboldt Bay, and her mother was a girlhood friend of my late wife's; so
+naturally I've established a sort of protectorate over her. She has
+to work for a living, and any time there's a potentially fine,
+two-million-dollar husband like Joey lying round loose I like to see
+some deserving working girl land the cuss. As a matter of fact, it's
+almost a crime to steer her against Joey in his present state. But,”
+ Cappy added, “I have a notion that before Joey gets rid of that
+hula-hula girl he's going to be a sadder, wiser and poorer young man
+than he is at present.”
+
+“Your plan, then, is to give Joey six months away from his captor in
+order that he may forget her?”
+
+“Exactly. Absence makes the heart grow colder in cases like the one
+under discussion, and the sea is a great place for a fellow to do some
+quiet, sane, uninterrupted thinking. The sea, at night particularly, is
+productive of much introspection and speculation on the various aspects
+of life, and in order to make Joey forget this vampire in a hurry all
+that is necessary is to have a real woman round him for a while. The
+first thing he knows he'll be making comparisons and the contrast will
+appall him.”
+
+“You don't mean--”
+
+“You bet I do. Joey's future wife accompanies him on the voyage, and
+my bully port captain, Mike Murphy, and his amiable sister go along to
+chaperone the party and make up a foursome at bridge. I've had a naval
+architect at work on the old cabin of the _Tyee_, putting in some extra
+staterooms, bathrooms, and so on, and in order to make a space for the
+passengers I subsidized the two squarehead mates into berthing with the
+crew in the fo'-castle. Doris always did want to take a voyage in one of
+the Blue Star windjammers, and I had promised to send her at the first
+convenient opportunity.”
+
+“You deep-dyed, nefarious old villain!”
+
+“Old Cupid Ricks, eh? Well, it's lots of fun, Joe, this butting in on
+love's young dream. And I'm just so constituted I've got to run other
+people's affairs for them or I wouldn't be happy. I do think, however,
+that this house party on the old _Tyee_ is about the slickest deal I
+have ever put over. Joe, they're going to be right comfortable. I've
+shipped a maid for the girls, and the cook this time is several degrees
+superior to the average maritime specimen, for there's nothing like
+a couple of days of bum cooking to upset tempers--and I'm taking no
+chances. Also, just before I left I gave your future daughter-in-law her
+quarterly dividend--you see, when her father died I had to sort of look
+after the family, and I ran a bluff that Kenyon had some Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company stock--you know, Joe. Proud stuff! I had to hornswoggle
+them. Well, as I say, I gave her the money, and my girl Florry went
+shopping with her. Sports clothes? Wow! Wow! White skirts, blue jersey,
+little sailor hat--man--oh, man, the stage is set to the last detail!
+I even had them ship a piano. Doris plays the guitar and has a pleasing
+voice, and just for good measure I threw in a crackajack cabinet
+phonograph and a hundred records with enough sentimental drip to sink
+the schooner.”
+
+Joe Gurney stared at his old friend rather helplessly and shook his
+head. Such finesse was beyond his comprehension.
+
+“You see, now,” Cappy continued, “the wisdom of my course? I insisted
+that you cut off Joey's allowance and get him hungry for money. You
+did--and he got hungry. He would have been posted at his clubs in thirty
+days; it is probable he owed a few bets here and there; his tailor may
+have needed money. Consequently, by the time I arrived on the scene
+he was ripe for any legitimate enterprise that would bring him in the
+needful funds; we arranged the enterprise and he promptly smothered
+it. Right off, Joe, your son said to himself: 'It will be almost a year
+before I come into my inheritance, and in the interim I'm going to get
+married, and a married man who lives on the scale my wife will expect
+me to assume is going to need a lot more money than a clerkship in his
+father's shipping office will bring him. Now, there's Tootsy-Wootsy
+out in Reno with a five months' sentence staring her in the eye before
+she'll be free to marry me, and I can't very well go out to Reno to
+visit her without running the risk of incurring my father's displeasure
+or the tongue of gossip. Consequently, I have five months' time to kill,
+also, and how better can I kill it than by a jolly sea voyage in a bally
+old lumber hooker? I can easily win twenty-five thousand dollars from my
+godfather, and that twenty-five thousand will carry us along until dad
+turns over my mother's estate to me. Fine business! I'll go to it.' And,
+Joe, he's done gone! Of course I'm going to win his twenty-five thousand
+bet because he doesn't know what it means to discharge a vessel in Sobre
+Vista, and Mike Murphy has orders from me to hire all the available
+stevedores there to do something else while Joey is trying to hire them
+to discharge the _Tyee_. Don't worry, Joe! The country is safe in the
+capable hands of Mike Murphy.”
+
+“I see. And the twenty-five thousand dollars you will win from Joey--”
+
+“Will reimburse me for the extraordinary expense I've been to in saving
+your son. If Joey's end of the bet doesn't cover I'll nick you, Joseph,
+although I figure Joey's end of it will pay the fiddler. He won't
+miss it out of his two millions. Besides, I've noticed that the only
+experience worth while is the kind you pay real money for--and Joey has
+to buy his experience the same as the rest of us.”
+
+Five days later Cappy Ricks dropped into the Red Funnel Line and laid a
+telegram on old Joe Gurney's desk.
+
+“Read that,” he commanded, “and see if you can't work up a couple of
+cheers.”
+
+Gurney read:
+
+“Aberdeen, Wash., June 3, 1916
+
+“Alden P. Ricks
+
+“Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York
+
+“Joey arrived bung up and bilge free. Had loaded and hauled into stream,
+waiting for him. Came out in launch, climbed Jacob's ladder and stood
+on rail, sizing up ship. Saw Doris and almost fell face down on deck. He
+says Doris is a dream, she says Joey is a dear. Take it from me, boss,
+it is all over but the wedding bells.
+
+“M. CUPID MURPHY.”
+
+Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his and shook it
+heartily.
+
+“My worries are over, Alden,” he declared. “You have, indeed, been my
+friend in need.”
+
+“My troubles and Joey's are just commencing, however,” Cappy retorted
+blithely. “However--'never trouble trouble until trouble troubles
+you' is my motto. Where's that hundred-and-six-foot schooner yacht of
+Joey's?”
+
+“She's at her moorings in Greenpoint Basin. Why?”
+
+“I want to borrow her for a cruise to San Francisco, via the Panama
+Canal. Joey and his bride can sail her back. May I have her, to do what
+I please with, Joe?”
+
+“Alden, don't ask foolish questions. Take her and God bless you! Joey
+owns her, but I pay the bills; so her skipper takes orders from me.”
+
+Two days later Joey's schooner _Seafarer_ was standing out to sea past
+Sandy Hook, but Cappy Ricks was not aboard her, for that ingenious
+schemer had boarded a train and gone back to San Francisco and his
+lumber and ships.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Cappy Ricks' meditations were interrupted by a knock at the door of his
+private office.
+
+“Come in,” he piped, and his son-in-law, Captain Matt Peasley, stuck his
+head in.
+
+“The _Tyee_ is sailing in, Cappy,” he announced. “The Merchants'
+Exchange has just telephoned.”
+
+“It's an infernal lie,” Cappy shrilled excitedly. “It can't be the
+_Tyee_. If it is, she's two months ahead of her schedule, and by the
+Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I fixed up that schedule myself.”
+
+Matt Peasley grinned.
+
+“Perhaps Joey didn't like your schedule and re-arranged it to suit
+himself,” he suggested.
+
+“Impossible! That infernal young scoundrel put it over me? Preposterous!
+Why, Mike Murphy was on the job. Get out, Matt, and don't come in here
+again today throwing scares into the old man.”
+
+Nevertheless, Cappy's confidence in human nature was badly jarred when
+Captain Michael J. Murphy was announced two hours later. Indeed Cappy
+could scarcely credit his sense of sight when the redoubtable Michael
+entered the room. He glared at the worthy fellow over the rims of his
+spectacles for fully a minute while Murphy stood fidgeting just inside
+the doorway.
+
+“Well,” said the Blue Star despot presently, “all I've got to say to
+you, Mike Murphy, is that you're certainly a hell of a seaman to stand
+idly by and see that young Joey do me up like this. Give an account of
+yourself!”
+
+“They're engaged,” Murphy protested valiantly.
+
+“That's my work, Mike, not yours. Don't take any credit that isn't
+coming to you. I want a report on your end of this deal. How does it
+happen that this boy harpoons me for twenty-five thousand dollars?
+Have the _cargadores_ at Sobre Vista gone on the water wagon? Did Joey
+out-bid you for their services? Have they added a lot more lighters to
+their lighterage fleet? Has the surf quit rolling in on the beach? Have
+the inhabitants of Sobre Vista been converted to the Mohammedan faith
+and declined to celebrate saints' days and holy days? Is there smallpox
+in the town, that the quietus has been put on fiestas and fandangoes,
+and has Peru been annexed by Chile and the celebration of the national
+holidays forbidden?”
+
+“No, Mr. Ricks. It's the same old _manana_ burg. The trouble was that
+Joey is a better sailorman than he appeared to be. He cracked on all the
+way down and made a smashing voyage, and, of course, as soon as we got
+there he went ashore. Two other schooners were there ahead of us. One
+was loading general cargo and the other was discharging it, and when
+Joey heard they had been there a month he investigated conditions and
+saw where you had him. Mr. Ricks, he came back as mad as a hatter. Of
+course I saw he would have to wait until the other schooners were out of
+the way before he could begin discharging, because they had first call
+on the lighters; so in view of the situation and the fact that Miss
+Murphy and Doris were a bit tired of the ship and wanted to go ashore
+and see the back country, I organized a trip for them.”
+
+“You left Joey aboard the Tyee, of course.”
+
+“Yes, sir. And there's where I made my fatal break. The minute my back
+was turned the son of a pirate got busy. It appears there was a six-inch
+waste pipe leading from the crew's lavatory out under the stern of the
+ship, and this pipe had rusted away and broken off at the flange just
+inside the skin of the ship sometime during the vessel's previous
+voyage. Of course it happened while she was homeward bound in ballast,
+and was standing so high out of the water that this vent where the pipe
+was broken was above the waterline; consequently not enough of a leak
+developed to be noticeable. At the mill dock, however, after we got
+her under-deck cargo aboard, the vessel had settled until this vent was
+under water, and immediately she developed a mysterious leak. In fact,
+due to the enormous pressure, the water came in faster than the pumps
+could handle it. Fortunately, however, we discovered where the leak was,
+though it was then too late to mend it. To do so we would have had to
+take out the under-deck cargo again. So I just whittled out a six-inch
+wooden plug, fastened it to the end of the boat hook, ran it down the
+narrow space through which the broken pipe led, found the vent, hammered
+the plug home, stopped the leak, pumped out the well, finished taking on
+cargo and sailed for Sobre Vista.”
+
+“A small leak will sink a great ship,” Cappy Ricks murmured. “I think I
+anticipate the blow-off, Mike; but proceed.”
+
+“Unfortunately for us that cargo of lumber we had was for the Peruvian
+government. They were going to use it in the construction of barracks
+or a new customhouse or something--and Joey knew this. And he knew about
+that plug. So the minute my back was turned he pulled out the plug
+and the water came in and trickled all through the cargo and the ship
+commenced to settle. But Joey didn't care. He knew a little salt water
+couldn't hurt the lumber. When the top of the _Tyee's_ rail was flush
+with the water he plugged the hole again, got his crew busy with the
+pumps, and by judiciously plugging and unplugging that leak he kept the
+crew pumping all day and all night without raising the vessel an inch,
+and the people ashore could see the streams of water cascading overside
+and the crew pumping like mad. And presently Joey gave up, went ashore,
+sought the captain of the port and put up a hard luck story about a leak
+in his ship--a leak he couldn't find anywhere--a leak that was getting
+away from him, because his men were too exhausted to do any more
+pumping. And he said his ship would get water-logged and settle until
+the surf began to break over her. And presently the deck lashings would
+part under the battering of the surf and the deck load would go by the
+board. Half of it would drift out to sea, and the other half would pound
+on the beach and get filled with sand, which would dull the saws and
+planes of the carpenters when they came to cut it up. Also, the ship's
+cabin would be sure to go, and unless he had help he would have to
+abandon the vessel and she would lie there, submerged, at anchor, a
+menace to the navigation of the port.”
+
+“The scoundrel! The in-fer-nal young scoundrel!” cried Cappy Ricks.
+
+“Well, he got away with it, sir. Remember our cargo was for the Peruvian
+government and they'd had the devil's own time getting it; consequently
+they couldn't afford to lose any part of it and have their anchorage
+ground menaced by a derelict. So the captain of the port took it up
+with the commandant of the local garrison, and the commandant, as Joey
+expressed it, heard the Macedonian cry and got busy. He commandeered all
+the lighters the other schooners were using; the soldiers rounded up the
+_cargadores_ at the point of the bayonet, and they started discharging
+the American schooner _Tyee_, with the spiggoty soldiers swelling
+Joey's crew at the pumps and Joey doing business with that wooden plug
+according to the requirements. Fortunately there weren't any surf days
+that week, and the way the cargo poured out of the _Tyee_ was a shame
+and a disgrace. And when it was all out Joey plugged the leak again,
+pumped out the ship, and wired me at Mollendo to hurry back with the
+ladies or he'd sail without me. So you can see for yourself, Mr. Ricks,
+it was a hard hand to beat. And his luck held. He cracked on all the way
+home and, as you know, sir, the _Tyee_ is fast in a breeze of wind, and
+you told me not to interfere unless he asked me to.”
+
+Despite his disappointment Cappy Ricks lay back in his chair and laughed
+until he wept.
+
+“Oh, Mike,” he declared, “it's worth twenty-five thousand dollars
+to know a boy who can pull one like that. What do you think of him,
+anyhow?”
+
+“He'll do. His father has spoiled him, but not altogether. I think a
+heap of him, sir. Remember I've been shipmates with him a trifle over
+four months, and that's a pretty good test.”
+
+“Very well, Mike. I forgive you, my boy. I hope Miss Murphy enjoyed the
+trip. Tell her--”
+
+The door opened and Joey Gurney, accompanied by Miss Doris Kenyon
+entered unannounced.
+
+“Hello, godfather,” yelled Joey joyously. He jerked the old man out of
+his chair and hugged him. “I'm back with your schooner, sir. She was
+easy to navigate, but that was a cold deck you handed me in Sobre
+Vista--”
+
+“Glad to see you, Joey, glad to see you,” Cappy interrupted. “Ah, and
+here's my little secretary again. Miss Kenyon, this is a pleasure--”
+
+“Mr. Ricks,” Joey interrupted him, “the lady's name is no longer Miss
+Kenyon. She is now Mrs. Joseph K. Gurney, Junior. The minute we got
+ashore at Meiggs' wharf and could shake the Murphys, who stood out till
+the last for a church wedding, we chartered a taxicab, went up to the
+City Hall, procured a license, rounded up a preacher--and got married.
+What do you know about that?”
+
+“You're as fast as a second-story worker, Joey. I shall kiss the bride.”
+ And Cappy did. Then he sat down and stared at the fruit of his cunning
+labors.
+
+“Well, well, well!” cried Joey. “Kick in, godfather, kick in. You owe
+me twenty-five thousand dollars, and if I'm going to support a wife I'll
+need it.”
+
+Cappy summoned Mr. Skinner, who felicitated the happy pair and departed
+pursuant to Cappy's order, to make out a check for Joey.
+
+“And now,” said Cappy, as he handed the groom his winnings, “you get
+out of here with your bride, Joey, and I'll telephone Florry and we'll
+organize a wedding supper. And to-morrow morning, Joey, I'd like to see
+you at ten o'clock, if you can manage to be here.”
+
+Joey promised, and hastened away with his bride.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+True to his word he presented himself in Cappy's lair promptly at ten
+next morning. The old gentleman was sitting rigidly erect on the extreme
+edge of his chair; in his hand he held a typewritten statement with a
+column of figures on it, and he eyed Joey very appraisingly over the
+rims of his spectacles.
+
+“My boy,” he said solemnly, “sit down. I'm awfully glad you cabled that
+hula-hula girl of yours in Reno that the stuff was all off.”
+
+Joey's mouth flew open.
+
+“Why--why, how did you know?” he gasped.
+
+“I know everything, Joey. I'm that kind of an old man.”
+
+Joey paled.
+
+“Oh, Mr. Ricks,” he pleaded, “for heaven's sake don't let a whisper of
+that affair reach my wife.” He wrung his hands. “I told her she was the
+only girl I had ever loved--that I'd never been engaged before--that
+I--oh, godfather, if she ever discovers I've lied to her--”
+
+“She'll not discover it. Compose yourself, Joey. I've seen to all that.
+I knew you'd give Doris the same old song and dance; everybody's doing
+it, you know, so I took pains to see to it that you'll never have to eat
+your words.”
+
+“I must have been crazy to engage myself to that woman,” Joey wailed.
+“I don't know why I did it--I don't know how it happened--Oh, Mr. Ricks,
+please believe me!”
+
+“I do, Joey, I do. I understand perfectly, because at the tender age of
+twenty-four I proposed marriage to a snake-charmer lady in the old Eden
+Musee. She was forty years old if she was a day, but she carried her
+years well and hid the wrinkles with putty, or something. Barring a
+slight hare-lip, she was a fairly handsome woman--in the dark.” He
+reached into a compartment of his desk and drew forth a package of
+letters tied with red ribbon. “You can have these, Joey,” he announced;
+“only I shouldn't advise keeping them where your wife may find them.
+They are your letters to your Honolulu lady.”
+
+Joey let out a bleat of pure ecstacy and seized them.
+
+“You haven't read them, sir, have you?” he queried, blushing
+desperately.
+
+“Oh, yes, my boy. I had to, you know, because I was buying something and
+I wanted to make certain I got value received. Pretty gooey stuff, Joey!
+Read aloud, they sound like a cow's hoof settling into a wet meadow!”
+
+“I'm so glad she took it sensibly,” Joey announced, for he was anxious
+to change the topic of conversation. “I suppose she saw it was the only
+way.”
+
+“No, she didn't, my son. Don't flatter yourself. On your way out West to
+join the _Tyee_ you wrote her every day on the train. You told her about
+your bet with me, and who I was and all about me. Lucky for you that you
+did, and doubly lucky for you that you cabled her the jilt from Sobre
+Vista, or she would not have come to me with her troubles. Joey, that
+must have taken courage on your part. It's mighty hard for a gentleman
+to cable a lady and break an engagement. That's the lady's privilege,
+Joey.”
+
+“I--I was desperate, Mr. Ricks. I had to. I had to have her out of the
+way by the time I got back, or Doris might have found it out. You see, I
+wanted to clear the atmosphere.”
+
+“Well, you clouded it for fair! You see, Joey, in all those letters it
+appears that you never once mentioned the words marriage or engagement.
+But your cablegram was an admission that an engagement existed, and the
+lady was smart enough to realize that. It appears also that about a week
+after you cleared for Sobre Vista her annoying husband was killed by a
+taxicab in New York, so that saved her any divorce proceedings; and
+when your cablegram reached her she was a single lady who had been
+heartlessly jilted. The first thing she did was to hire a lawyer, and
+the first person that lawyer called on was Alden P. Ricks, the old
+family friend. It appears a suit for breach of promise was to be
+instituted unless a fairly satisfactory financial settlement could be
+arrived at.”
+
+“How much did she want?” Joey barely whispered the words.
+
+“Only a million.”
+
+“How much did you settle for? I'll pay it out of my inheritance, Mr.
+Ricks. Don't worry! I won't see you stuck, for you've stood by me
+through thick and thin.”
+
+“Why, I didn't give her anything, Joey. I just had her lawyer bring her
+on to San Francisco for a conference. Of course when lunch time came
+round and I hadn't heard any proposition I felt I could submit to your
+father, I invited Miss Fontaine and her lawyer to luncheon with me in
+the Palace Hotel Grill, and while we were lunching, who should come
+up and greet me but my old friend, the Duke of Killiekrankie, formerly
+Duncan MacGregor, first mate of our barkentine _Retriever_. Mac is an
+excellent fellow and for some time I had felt he merited promotion. So I
+made him a duke.
+
+“Well, the duke was awfully glad to see me, and being a gentleman I
+couldn't do less than introduce him to the lady and her lawyer. He only
+stayed at our table a minute and then rejoined his friends, but
+all during the meal I could see Betsy Jane's mind wasn't on her
+breach-of-promise suit. She asked me several questions about the duke,
+and I told her I didn't know much about him except that he was sinfully
+rich and a globe-trotter, and that we'd met in Paris. Lies, Joey, but
+pardonable, I hope, under the circumstances.
+
+“Well, Joey, it seems that she and the duke were registered at the same
+hotel and I'll be shot if his lordship didn't meet her--by accident, of
+course--in the lobby that afternoon. He lifted his hat and she smiled
+and they had a chat. The next day she cut an engagement with her lawyer
+and me to go motoring with the duke in my French car, and Florry's
+chauffeur driving, for, of course, the duke was an expensive luxury and
+I was trying to save a dollar wherever possible. That night the duke
+gave a dinner party in honor of the lady--and he gave it aboard his
+yacht, the _Doris_, formerly the _Seafarer_, right out here in San
+Francisco harbor--”
+
+Joey went up and put his arm round Cappy's shoulders.
+
+“Oh, Cappy Ricks, Cappy Ricks!” he cried, and then his voice broke and
+his eyes filled with tears.
+
+“Yes,” Cappy continued, “I had sort o' suspected she might pull that
+breach-of-promise stuff on you, Joey--”
+
+“What made you suspect it?”
+
+“Why, I sort of suspected you were going to marry Doris Kenyon--”
+
+“You planned to get us together on the same ship--!”
+
+“Only place I could think of where you were safe from the Honolulu lady
+and couldn't run away from Doris, Joey. Well, as I say, I had sort of
+suspected she might sue you and disgrace you and break the heart of that
+little girl I'd picked out for you long before you ever met her--so I
+started to get there first and with the heaviest guns, I borrowed your
+yacht for the duke and had him sail her round himself, so he'd have her
+here to give the dinner party on. Then I got a Burke's peerage and told
+MacGregor who he was and had him study up on his family history and
+get acquainted with his sister, Lady Mary, and his younger brother, the
+Honorable Cecil Something-or-other--in particular he was not to forget
+to rave about the grouse shooting in Scotland.”
+
+Cappy paused and puffed his cigar meditatively for half a minute.
+
+“Joey,” he continued, “any time you run a bluff, run a good one.
+If you're starring a globe-trotting duke, have his ancestry all
+straightened out in advance, because he's bound to break into the
+newspapers and the motto of the newspaper editor is 'Show me.' And the
+yacht--just one of the props of the comedy, Joey; and with a little
+cockney steward in livery to say 'Your ludship'; and the name of the
+yacht changed in case she'd ever heard you speak about the _Seafarer;_
+and the cabin done over in white enamel with mahogany trim; and a new
+set of dishes with your family crest and the name of the yacht on
+every piece in case you had ever had her aboard; and a private
+secretary--borrowed him from my general manager, Skinner, by the way--we
+were certainly there when it came to throwing the ducal front. And we
+got away with it, for MacGregor's accent is just Scotchy enough, and he
+comes of good family and has excellent manners. Yes, I must say Mac made
+a very comfortable duke. Skinner's young man tells me it would bring
+tears of joy to your eyes to see him kiss the lady's hand.
+
+“Well, Joey, the upshot of it was that after paying violent court to the
+lady for two weeks--Mac said he could have pulled the stunt the night of
+the dinner, for she fell for the title right way, but I told him to make
+haste slowly--the duke received a cablegram calling him home from his
+furlough. Oh, yes, Joey, I had him in the army. Any young unattached
+duke that doesn't join the British army these days doesn't get by in
+good society, and I had my duke on a six months' furlough to recover
+from his wounds. Fortunately a bunch of cedar shingles had fallen on
+Mac's foot recently and he was dog lame, which strengthened the play.
+
+“Of course the duke was up in the air right away. In a passionate scene
+he confessed his love for that damsel of yours, Joey, and laid his
+dukedom at her feet. Would she marry him P. D. Q. and help him sail the
+yacht home? Would she? 'Oh, darling, this is so sudden!' she cried, and
+almost swooned in his arms. From a cabaret to a dukedom. Some jump!
+Sail the yacht home to England through the mine fields and submarines?
+Perfectly ripping, by Jove! I give you my word, Joey, she tacked on one
+of those New York British accents for the duke's special benefit. There
+was a lot of beam to her _a_'s, Mac told me, but blamed little molded
+depth to her mentality. So they were married in haste, and after the
+duke had seen his bride in the elevator bound for their rooms at the
+hotel, he excused himself to get a highball. And I guess he got the
+highball, because I find it in this expense account he turned in to me.”
+
+“It sounds like a fairy tale,” Joey murmured in an awed voice. “What did
+the duke do next?”
+
+“Came right down to this office and informed me he was, plumb weary of
+the life of a bon vivant and was anxious to get to sea again. So I made
+him master of a new steamer we acquired recently, and he's gone out to
+Vladivostok with munitions for the Russians.”
+
+“But didn't you give him some money, Mr. Ricks?”
+
+“No. Why should I? Didn't I give him command of a steamer? You can slip
+him a fat check if you feel that way about it, but I never coddle my
+skippers, Joey, until I'm sure they're worth while. I think, however,
+that Mac will make good. He's very thorough.”
+
+“Wha--what became of Ernestine?”
+
+“Oh, by Godfrey, that's a sad story, Joey. It seems she waited at the
+hotel for the duke to come back and he didn't come, so the following
+morning she went down to the water front looking for the yacht--and the
+yacht was gone. During the night I'd had it towed over to Sausalito;
+consequently the launchman she hired couldn't find it down in Mission
+Bay, and back to the beach she came. After a couple of days had passed,
+however, she commenced to smell a rat, so she came down to my office and
+asked me if I'd seen anything of the duke.
+
+“'Why, yes, I have,' I told her. 'The old duke came in here yesterday
+afternoon, soused to the guards, and complaining he'd been cruelly
+deceived into marrying a two-time loser with a couple of youngsters,
+and inasmuch as he was certain the family wouldn't receive her he was
+leaving the United States immediately, never to return.
+
+“'And this morning the justice of the peace who performed the ceremony
+mailed him the license, which has been duly recorded in the office
+of the Secretary of State in accordance with law; and inasmuch as the
+license was sent to him in my care I am holding it in our safe until he
+calls for it.'
+
+“Well, Joey, she looked at me and she knew the stuff was all off. She'd
+married the duke; I had the license to prove it, and of course she
+realized her breach of promise suit and claim for a million dollars'
+worth of heart balm would be laughed out of court if she had the crust
+to present it. So she did the next best thing. She abused me like a
+pickpocket and ended up by getting hysterical when I told her how I'd
+swindled her. When she got through crying I lectured her on the error of
+her ways and suggested that inasmuch as she had had one divorce already,
+another wouldn't be much of a strain on her, and I'd foot the bill for
+separating her legally from John Doe, alias the duke, on a charge of
+desertion. Then I offered her a thousand dollars and a ticket back to
+New York for the surrender of all your letters to her and that infernal
+cablegram and a release of all claims against you. I guess she was broke
+for she grabbed it in a hurry, Joey. The atmosphere is now clear, my
+son, and nothing further remains to be done in the premises, save settle
+the bill of expense. Fortunately the _Tyee_ made money on that fast
+voyage under your command, but the cost of bringing the yacht round from
+New York, doing over the cabin, buying the new dishes with the crest,
+and settling with the lady should rightfully be borne by you. As I
+say, the duke was expensive, for the rascal certainly rolled 'em high.
+Skinner has made me up a statement of the total cost, with interest at
+six per cent to date, and it appears, Joey, that you owe your godfather
+$12,143.18. On the day you come into your inheritance, add six per cent
+to that sum and send me a check.”
+
+“But the twenty-five thousand dollars I won from you--” Joey began, but
+Cappy held up a rigid finger, enjoining silence.
+
+“I am going to stick your dub of a father for that, as a penance for his
+sins of omission, Joey; for by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if ever a
+boy won a bet and was entitled to it, you're that young man. In-fer-nal
+young scoundrel! Keep it and split fifty-fifty with your wife. You won
+a straight bet from a crooked gambler, and if I haven't had a million
+dollars' worth of fun out of this transaction I hope I may marry a
+hula-hula woman--and I've passed my three score and ten and ought to
+know better!”
+
+“But about this man MacGregor--”
+
+“Don't worry about him. The Scotch are a hardy race and Mac is a sailor.
+Joey, I know sailors. The scoundrels have a wife in every port!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+During the period when Joey Gurney was busy doing all that Cappy
+Ricks desired him to do and some things that were slightly off Cappy's
+program, the president emeritus of the Blue Star Navigation Company and
+allied interests was discovering that it is one thing to declare for the
+simple life and quite another to live it. The Great War challenged
+so much of the Ricks interest that he could not bear to live far
+from morning and evening editions--and he wanted them red hot off the
+presses. Things were doing in the shipping world. The most inconceivable
+trades were being consummated daily, freights were soaring, lumber
+prices had reached an unprecedentedly high level and promised to go
+higher; there was something doing every minute and not enough minutes
+in a working day to accommodate half of these somethings. What more
+natural, therefore, than that Cappy presently should find himself caught
+in the maelstrom, even though he told himself daily that, come what
+might _he_ would keep out of it.
+
+The first indefinite evidence that he was about to be engulfed came in
+the form of a newspaper story, ex the steamer _Timaru_, from Sydney, via
+Tahiti. There it was, as big as a church--a paragraph of it, tucked away
+in a column-and-a-half story of the bombardment of Papeete by the German
+Pacific fleet early in September of 1914:
+
+“An incident of the bombardment was the sinking of the German freight
+steamer _Valkyrie_ by shells from the German fleet. The vessel had been
+captured by the French gunboat _Zeile_ some weeks previous and was at
+anchor in the harbor, under the guns of the _Zeile_, when the German
+squadron appeared off the entrance. The gunboat immediately was made the
+target for the German guns, and sunk. During the attack, however, a wild
+shell missed the _Zeile_ and struck the _Valkyrie_, tearing a great hole
+in her hull and causing her to sink in ten fathoms at her anchorage.”
+
+Ten fathoms! Sixty feet! Why, at that depth Cappy should have known that
+her masts and funnel would be above water; that in all probability
+she carried war-risk insurance; that she was so far from anywhere the
+underwriters would have abandoned her, even had she not been a prize of
+war, since there are no appliances in Papeete for salving a vessel of
+her size; that she could be raised if one cared to spend a little money
+on doing it; that one projectile probably had not ruined her beyond
+repair; that she was a menace to navigation in Papeete Harbor and hence
+would have to be gotten out of the way, either by dynamite or auction;
+that--well, any number of thats should have occurred to Cappy Ricks
+to suggest the advisability of keeping track of the wreck of the
+_Valkyrie_. However, for some mysterious reasons--his resentment against
+the German cause, probably--the golden prospect never appealed to him,
+for when he had finished reading the article he merely said:
+
+“Well, what do you know about that? Skinner, it's a mighty lucky thing
+for that German admiral that I'm not the Kaiser, for I'd certainly make
+him hard to catch. The idea of sinking that fine steamer--and a German
+steamer at that! Here was the little old French gunboat, about as
+invulnerable as a red-cedar shingle; and instead of moving into proper
+position and raking her with their light guns--instead of calling on her
+to surrender--these Germans had to go to work in a hurry and inaugurate
+a campaign of frightfulness. The minute they were off the harbor--Zowie!
+Blooey! Bam! It was all over but the cheering, and they'd chucked an
+eight-inch projectile through a ship that was worth four of the gunboat.
+
+“Skinner, that's what I call spilling the beans. Why they didn't take
+their time, recapture that freighter and give her skipper a chance to
+hustle across to San Francisco or Honolulu and intern, is a mystery to
+me. The idea! Why, for that German fleet to waste ammunition on that
+Jim-Crow town and a hand-me-down gunboat was equivalent to John L.
+Sullivan whittling out a handle on a piece of two-by-four common fir in
+order to attack a cockroach!”
+
+Cappy was so incensed that he growled about the Germans for an hour.
+Then he forgot the _Valkyrie_, notwithstanding the fact that the press
+jogged his memory again when the German fleet, deciding that prudence
+was the better part of valor, fled from the Pacific to escape the
+Japanese, only to be destroyed in the South Atlantic by the British
+fleet. A resume of the operations of the German squadron in the
+Pacific brought forth mention of the destruction of the _Zeile_ and the
+_Valkyrie_. However, Cappy's mind was not in Tahiti now, but off the
+Falkland Islands, for he was very much pro-Ally and devoted more thought
+to military and naval strategy than he did to the lumber and shipping
+business.
+
+However, the climax of Cappy's indignation over the disaster to
+the _Valkyrie_ was not attained until a few months later when, in
+conversation on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange with the skipper
+of the schooner _Tarus_, who happened to have been in Papeete at
+the bombardment, he learned he had done the German admiral a grave
+injustice. He came back to his office, boiling, declaring the French
+were a crazy nation, and that, after all, he could recall meeting one or
+two fine Germans during the course of a fairly busy career. He summoned
+Mr. Skinner and Matt Peasley to hear the sordid tale.
+
+“Remember that steamer _Valkyrie_ the Germans were supposed to have sunk
+by accident in the harbor of Papeete during the bombardment in September
+of 1914?” he queried.
+
+“I believe I read something about it in the papers at the time,” Mr.
+Skinner replied.
+
+“What about her?” Matt Peasley demanded.
+
+“Why, the Germans didn't sink her at all, Matt! The Frenchmen did it,”
+ Cappy shrilled. “The crazy, frog-eating jumping-jacks of Frenchmen! The
+tramp wasn't flying the German flag--naturally the Frenchmen had hauled
+it down; so the Germans didn't investigate her. Besides, they were in a
+hurry--you'll remember the Japs were on their trail at the time; so they
+just devoted forty minutes to shooting up the town, and beat it. I don't
+suppose they ever knew they hit the _Valkyrie_; perhaps they figured
+that, having sunk the gunboat, the _Valkyrie_ could up hook and away at
+her leisure, since there was nothing left to prevent her.
+
+“Huh! Makes me sick to talk about it; but the skipper of the _Taurus_
+was there at the time and he tells me that, though the _Valkyrie_
+was pretty well down by the stern, her bulkheads were holding and she
+wouldn't have sunk if those blamed Frenchmen, fearful that the German
+fleet was coming back after her, hadn't gone aboard and opened her sea
+cocks! Yes, sir. Rather than risk having her recaptured, they opened her
+sea cocks and sunk her! And, at that, they didn't have sense enough to
+run her out to deep water. No! They had to do the trick as she lay at
+anchor; and there she lies still, a menace to navigation and a perennial
+reminder to those Papeete Frenchmen that he who acts in haste will
+repent at leisure.”
+
+To this outburst Mr. Skinner made some perfunctory remark, attributing
+the situation to a lack of efficiency, while Matt Peasley went back to
+his office and grieved as he reflected on the corrosive action of salt
+water on those fine, seven-year-old engines.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+Time passed. Mr. Skinner developed a pallor and irritability that
+bespoke all too truly an attack of nerves, from overwork, and sore
+against his will was hustled off to Honolulu for a rest while Cappy
+Ricks had the audacity to take charge of the lumber business. Whereupon
+Mr. J. Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, discovered
+the unprotected condition of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company and
+promptly, in sheer wanton deviltry, proceeded to sew Cappy Ricks up on
+an order for a million grape stakes.
+
+A word here regarding the said J. Augustus Redell. He was a blithe,
+joyous creature, still in the sunny thirties, and what he didn't
+know about the lumber business--particularly the marketing of lumber
+products--could be tucked into anybody's eyes without impairing their
+eyesight. Mr. Redell had fought his way up from office boy with the
+Black Butte Lumber Company to lumber broker with offices of his own. He
+had owned a retail yard in which business he had gone “bust” for more
+money than the world appeared to contain. But he had fought his way back
+and paid a hundred cents on the dollar, including some hundred and
+forty thousand dollars he had owed the Ricks mills at the time of his
+collapse. Because he was young and fine and good-natured and brave and
+brilliant, Cappy had always admired J. Augustus Redell, but after
+the latter had so splendidly re-established his credit and formed a
+partnership with a Peruvian gentleman, one Senor Luiz Almeida, known
+locally as Live Wire Luiz, Cappy found that he had for the genial
+J. Augustus an admiration that amounted to affection. The West Coast
+Trading Company, under which title Live Wire Luiz and J. Augustus Redell
+did a lumber brokerage business with Mexico, Central American and South
+American countries principally, had Cappy Ricks' entire confidence,
+although he would have died rather than admit this. Live Wire Luiz he
+ignored and always dismissed as a factor in the affairs of that company,
+but whenever Redell had a deal on that was too heavy for his financial
+sinews, Cappy could always be depended upon to lend a helping hand. On
+his part, Redell revered Cappy Ricks as only an idealistic and naturally
+lovable rascal of a boy can revere an idealistic and lovable old man.
+To J. Augustus Redell little, old, naive, whimsical, gentle, terrible,
+brilliant, cunning, generous, altruistic, prudent, youthful old Cappy
+Ricks was a joy forever. With the impishness of his tender years, Mr.
+Redell could conceive of no greater joy than picking on Cappy Ricks just
+to see the latter fight back.
+
+Quite early in their friendship, the astute Redell discovered a rift in
+Cappy's armor--two rifts, in fact. The first was that Cappy feared and
+loathed old age and fiercely resented even the most shadowy intimation
+that with age he was, to employ a sporting phrase, “losing his punch.”
+ The second weakness that lay exposed to Redell was Cappy's passion for
+wringing a profit, by ingenious means, from apparently barren soil where
+no profit had ever hitherto burgeoned. At heart Cappy was a speculator;
+only the fact that he was a prudent and careful speculator had conduced
+to enrich him rather than impoverish him.
+
+Now, Cappy was fully convinced, from optical evidence, that J. Augustus
+Redell was a gambler. He admired Redell's genius for business, the
+soundness of his decisions, the alertness of his mind and the brilliance
+of his financial _coups_, but--he deprecated the younger man's daring.
+Cappy called it recklessness. By degrees the old gentleman had come to
+assume a proprietary interest in Gus Redell and the latter's affairs,
+for the younger man frequently sought counsel from Cappy and not
+infrequently, a loan! Cappy knew his young friend to be the soul of
+manly honor, but--he was young! Ah, yes! He was young. Ergo, he was
+foolish. True, his foolishness had not as yet been discovered, but Cappy
+was certain it would come to the surface sooner or later. The boy
+was reckless--a gambler. Cappy abhorred gambling. He never gambled.
+Occasionally he speculated! What more natural, therefore, than that
+little Cappy should presently arrogate to himself the privilege of
+stabbing young J. Augustus to the vitals from time to time, just to
+impress upon the boy the knowledge that this is a hard, cold, cruel
+world with a great many bad men in it!
+
+Nothing could possibly have delighted Redell more. Whenever Cappy
+stabbed him, forthwith he set about to stab Cappy in return, and thus
+had developed a joyous business feud. These best of friends spent an
+hour and a half daily, at luncheon, “picking” on each other, telling
+tales on each other, eternally “joshing” for the edification of a
+coterie of their lumber and shipping friends who always lunched in a
+private dining room at the Commercial Club and who were known within
+that organization as the Bilgewater Club.
+
+Early in 1915 Redell had seen an opportunity for inducing Cappy Ricks to
+speculate in grape stakes--to his financial hurt and humiliation. There
+was to be an election that fall--a special election to see whether
+California should “go dry” or “stay wet,” and for some reason not quite
+apparent to Mr. Redell, a great many people believed the state would
+“go dry.” Among the people who so believed, Redell discovered, were the
+woodsmen who, during the winter of 1914, would, under normal conditions,
+have split from redwood trees sufficient grape stakes to support such
+new vineyards as would come into bearing in the fall of 1915. Fearing
+that there would be no market for their grape stakes when the making of
+wine should be prohibited by law, these woodsmen had made no effort
+to supply the demand; wherefore the Machiavellian J. Augustus Redell,
+taking advantage of Mr. Skinner's absence from the office of the Ricks
+mills, cleverly managed to inculcate in Cappy Ricks the idea that it
+would be a splendid and profitable venture if he, the said Cappy, should
+wade into the grape stake market and corner it. The idea appealed to the
+speculative part of the old gentleman's nature and he had gone to work
+in a hurry, only to discover, after he had accepted orders from the
+West Coast Trading Company for a great many carloads of grape stakes for
+future delivery, that, when the day of reckoning should come, he would
+not be enabled to pick up enough grape stakes to fill his orders, for
+the very sufficient reason that nobody had manufactured grape stakes for
+that year's market, and they were not available at any price!
+
+It had been a cruel blow and Cappy's weakness had been exposed
+without mercy to the members of the Bilgewater Club by Mr. Redell, who
+thereafter kept both eyes wide open, knowing that sooner or later Cappy
+would retaliate.
+
+Retaliation was, of course, inevitable. Cappy realized this. For the
+first time in his career as a lumber and shipping king the sly old dog
+realized he had been out-thought, out-played, out-gamed and man-handled
+by a mere pup. And, though he had taken his beating like the rare old
+sport that he was, nevertheless the leaves of memory had a horrible
+habit of making a most melancholy rustling; and for two weeks, following
+his ignominious rout at the hands of J. Augustus Redell, Cappy's
+days and nights were entirely devoted to scheming ways and means of
+vengeance. Curiously enough, it was the West Coast Trading Company that
+accorded him the opportunity he craved.
+
+Having massacred Cappy in the grape-stake deal and established an
+unlimited credit thereby, the West Coast Lumber Company, per Senor
+Felipe Luiz Almeida, alias Live Wire Luiz, decided to purchase a little
+jag of spruce from the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company. Cappy Ricks
+looked at the proffered order, saw that it called for number one clear
+spruce, and promptly accepted it at a dollar under the market. He was
+to bring the spruce in to San Francisco on one of his own schooners,
+lay her alongside the _City of Panama_ and discharge it into her, for
+delivery at Salina Cruz, Mexico.
+
+Cappy knew, of course, that Live Wire Luiz handled exclusively the West
+Coast Trading Company's Mexican, Central and South American business. He
+knew, also, that there were many points about the lumber business that
+the explosive little Peruvian had still to learn; so he decided to stab
+the West Coast Trading Company, through the innocent and trusting Senor
+Almeida, with a weapon he would not have dreamed of employing had J.
+Augustus Redell placed the order. Live Wire Luiz knew the Ricks Lumber
+& Logging Company always sold its output on mill tally and inspection;
+that Cappy Ricks' grading rules were much fairer to his customers than
+those of his competitors; that when he contracted to deliver number one
+clear spruce he would deliver exactly that and challenge anybody to pick
+a number two board out of the lot. But what Live Wire Luiz did not know
+was that there are two kinds of number one spruce on the Pacific Coast.
+One grows in California and the other in Oregon and Washington--and
+Cappy Ricks had both kinds for sale.
+
+“Aha!” Cappy murmured as he glanced over Live Wire Luiz's order after
+the latter had gone. “Number one clear spruce, eh? All right, sir! Away
+down in my wicked heart I know you want some nice number one stock from
+our Washington mill, at Port Hadlock; but unfortunately you have failed
+to stipulate it--so we'll slip you a little of the California product
+and teach you something you ought to know.”
+
+Whereupon Cappy sent the order to his mill on Humboldt Bay, California.
+Though this plant manufactured redwood lumber almost exclusively,
+whenever the woods boss came across a nice spruce or bull-pine tree
+among the redwood he was wont to send it down to the mill, where it was
+sawed and set aside for trusting individuals like Live Wire Luiz.
+When seasoned this spruce was very good stock. Unfortunately, however,
+experts differ in their diagnosis of California spruce. There are those
+who will tell you it is not spruce, but a bastard fir; while others
+will tell you it is not fir, but a bastard spruce. Cappy Ricks had no
+definite ideas on the subject, for he didn't own enough of that kind of
+stumpage to grieve him. All he knew or cared was that when such outlawed
+stock was billed as spruce no judge or jury in the land could say it was
+fir; also, that in its green state it possessed an abominable odor!
+
+The lumber was delivered to the _City of Panama_ in due course and, as
+Cappy had suspected, Live Wire Luiz failed to come down to her dock
+and take a smell. This was a privilege left intact for the consignee at
+Salina Cruz; and he, according to Mexican custom, which only demands
+a ghost of an excuse to seek a rebate, promptly wired a protest and
+declared himself swindled to the extent of five dollars a thousand feet,
+gold.
+
+Also, having been similarly outraged once before, he demanded to know
+why he had been sent California spruce; whereupon Live Wire Luiz called
+up Cappy Ricks, abused him roundly and sent him a bill for six dollars
+a thousand, rebate! Unfortunately for the West Coast Trading Company,
+however, it had already discounted Cappy's invoice; so the latter could
+afford to stand pat--which he did.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+Shortly after noon on the day of his small triumph over the West Coast
+Trading Company, Cappy Ricks bustled up California Street, bound for
+luncheon with the Bilgewater Club.
+
+On this day, of all days, Cappy would not have missed luncheon with the
+Bilgewater Club for a farm. As he breezed along there was a smile on his
+ruddy old face and a lilt in his kind old heart, for he was rehearsing
+his announcement to his youthful friends of how he had but recently
+tanned the hide of a brother! He almost laughed aloud as he pictured
+himself solemnly relating, in the presence of J. Augustus Redell and
+Live Wire Luiz, the tale of the ill-favored spruce, excusing his own
+mendacity the while on the ground that he wasn't a mind reader; that if
+the West Coast Lumber Company desired northern spruce they should have
+stipulated northern spruce; that, as alleged business men, it was high
+time they were made aware of the ancient principle of _caveat emptor_,
+which means, as every schoolboy knows, that the buyer must protect
+himself in the clinches and breakaways. And lastly, he planned to claim
+it the solemn duty of the aged to instruct the young and ignorant in the
+hard school of experience.
+
+Judge, therefore, of his disappointment when, on entering the lobby of
+the Merchants' Exchange Building, on the two top floors of which the
+Commercial Club is situated, he encountered Redell and Live Wire Luiz
+leaving the elevator.
+
+The West Coast Trading Company had offices in the same building and, as
+Redell carried a plethoric suit case, while Live Wire Luiz followed with
+a small hand bag, Cappy realized they were bound for parts unknown.
+In consequence of which he realized he had rehearsed to no purpose his
+expose of the pair before the Bilgewater Club. He halted the partners
+and secured a firm grip on the lapel of each.
+
+“Cowards!” he sneered. “Running out on me, eh? By Judas Priest, I
+just knew you didn't dast to stay and hear me tell the boys about that
+spruce. Drat you! The next time you'll know the difference between attar
+of roses and California spruce!”
+
+Redell put down his suit case, pulled out his watch, glanced at it and
+then at his partner.
+
+“Shall I tell him, Luiz?” he queried.
+
+Live Wire Luiz thereupon consulted his watch, scratched his ear and
+said:
+
+“Friend of my heart, do you theenk eet ees safe?”
+
+“Oh, yes. He isn't a bit dangerous, Luiz. He's lost all his teeth and
+all he can do now is sit and bay at the moon.”
+
+Live Wire Luiz shrugged.
+
+“I theenk maybe so you are right, _amigo mio_. The steamer she will
+go to depart in half an hour, an' that ees not time for thees ol'
+high-binder to do somet'ing. Eet ees what you call one stiff li'l'
+order. I admit thees spruce bandit ees pretty smart, but--” again Live
+Wire Luiz shrugged his expressive shoulders--“he ees pretty ol', no? I
+theenk to myself he have lose--what you call heem? ah, yes, he have lose
+hees punch!”
+
+“I fear he has, Luiz; so I'll tell him. At least the knowledge will
+gravel him and take all the joy out of that stinking little spruce
+swindle of his.”
+
+“'Twon't neither!” Gappy challenged. “I stung you there--drat your
+picture!--and I'm glad I did it. I rejoice in my wickedness. Cost you
+five hundred dollars for making a monkey out of the old man in that
+grape-stake deal, Gus.”
+
+“Why,” said Redell wonderingly, “I thought you'd forgiven me that,
+Cappy.”
+
+“So I have; but I haven't forgotten. Expect me to lose my self-respect
+and forget about it? No, sir! When I go into a deal and emerge in the
+red, I take a look at my loss-and-gain account and forget it; but when
+I'm ravished of my self--respect-wow! Look out below and get out from
+under! In-fer-nal young scoundrel! If I don't show you two before I die
+that I haven't lost my punch I'll come back from the grave to ha'nt you.
+Go on and spin your little tale, Augus-tus. You can't tell me anything
+that'll make me mad. What you got on your mind besides your hair, Gus?
+Out with it, boy; out with it! I'm listening.”
+
+And Cappy came close to Redell and inclined his head close to the young
+fellow's breast; whereupon Redell put his lips close to Cappy's ear and
+answered hoarsely:
+
+“I'm going to Papeete to bid in that sunken German steamer, _Valkyrie_.”
+
+Cappy nodded.
+
+“Huh!” he said. “Is that all? Well, when you return from Papeete you're
+going to take another journey right away.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“Into the bankruptcy court first, and then up to the Home for the
+Feeble-Minded. On the level, boy, you're overdue at the foolish farm.”
+
+“I'll take a chance, Cappy. All you old graybeards can do is sit on the
+fence and decry the efforts of the rising generation. You just croak and
+knock. Of course I admit that once on a time an opportunity couldn't fly
+by you so fast you wouldn't get some of the tail feathers; but that was
+a long time ago.”
+
+He paused and glanced at his partner. Sorrowfully Live Wire Luiz tapped
+his forehead with his brown, cigarette-stained forefinger.
+
+“Senile decay!” Redell murmured.
+
+“Sure; I bet you, Mike!” Live Wire Luiz answered.
+
+He wagged his head lugubriously, turned aside and affected to wipe away
+a vagrant tear with his salmon-colored silk handkerchief.
+
+“Look here!” Cappy rasped. “This thing is getting personal. Never mind
+about my years, you pup. If my back is bent a trifle it's from carrying
+a load of experience and other people's mistakes. And never mind about
+my noodle! It may have a few knots and shakes in it, but they're tight
+and sound, and it's free of pitch pockets, wane and rotten streaks; so
+this old head grades as merchantable timber still.
+
+“As for your head, Gus, and that of this human firecracker with you,
+both have streaks of sap round the edges, and I'll prove it to you yet.
+No; on second thought I don't have to prove it. You've already done that
+yourself! You're going to Papeete to try to bid in the _Valkyrie_, and
+she's junk!”
+
+“Partly.” Redell admitted. “She's been under water about two years and I
+suppose the teredo have digested her upper works by now; but they can be
+rebuilt quickly and without a great deal of expense.”
+
+“How about her boilers? You'll have to retube them.”
+
+“I don't think so. I was talking with Captain Hippard, of the
+Morrison-Hippard Line. They had the steamer _Chinook_ under water a year
+in Norton Sound, but they raised her and brought her to San Francisco
+under her own steam. You know, Cappy, it's the combination of water and
+air that makes iron and steel rust. It seems that when a boiler is under
+water and not exposed to the air it rusts very slowly; also, the rust
+is like a soft film--it doesn't pit and scale off in great flakes. And
+a couple of years under water will not do any appreciable damage to the
+_Valkyrie's_ boilers. The _Chinook_ is running yet, notwithstanding the
+fact that fifteen years ago she was submerged for a year.”
+
+“Huh!” Cappy grunted.
+
+“The same condition, of course, holds true with regard to her hull, only
+more so,” Redell continued. “The paint will protect the hull perfectly.
+Of course if, after getting her up, she is permitted to lie exposed to
+the air, the soft film of rust will promptly harden and scale off and
+she'll go to glory in a few months. However, nothing like that will
+happen, because the minute she's up she'll be thoroughly cleaned and
+scrubbed and painted. Of course the asbestos cover will have peeled off
+her boilers, but even at that I'll bring her to San Francisco under her
+own steam. She'll just be ungodly hot below decks and a hog for coal
+until the boilers are re-covered.”
+
+Cappy sighed. He was not prepared to combat this argument, for he had a
+sneaking impression Redell was right. However, he returned undaunted to
+the attack.
+
+“She's shot full of holes,” he declared.
+
+“She has one hole through her, and when she's loaded light that hole is
+above water line. The wrecking vessel that goes down to salve her will
+have steel plates, tools and mechanics aboard, and new plates can be put
+in temporarily. And if that cannot be done those holes can be patched
+with planking and cemented over.”
+
+“Well, all right. Grant that. But think of her engines, Gus. Think of
+those fine, smooth bearings and polished steel rods all corroded and
+pitted by salt water. The water may not have a disastrous effect on the
+boilers and hull, but an engine can't stand any rust at all and still
+remain one hundred per cent efficient. I tell you I know, Gus. I had my
+_Amelia Ricks_ submerged on Duxbury Reef for a week; then I hauled her
+off and she lay on the tide flats in Mission Bay another three weeks
+until I could patch her up and float her into the dry dock. Do you
+know what it cost me to make her engines over again? Thirteen thousand
+dollars, young man--and, at that, they're nothing to brag of now.”
+
+“Quite right; but that's because you didn't employ a German engineer and
+tell him you were going to put the _Amelia Ricks_ on Duxbury Reef. Are
+you familiar with the characteristics of German engineers, Cappy?”
+
+Cappy threw up both hands.
+
+“I'm neutral, Gus. Between them and the French it's a case of heads I
+win, tails you lose.”
+
+“No, no, Cappy. You're wrong. The Germans are a careful, thrifty,
+painstaking, systematic race, and the chief of the _Valkyrie_ was the
+flower of the flock. When that little French gunboat captured her this
+chief engineer looked into the future and saw himself and the _Valkyrie_
+interned indefinitely--and he didn't like it. It just broke his heart to
+think of a stranger messing round among his engines; so the instant he
+got into Papeete and blew down his boilers he did a wise thing. He knew
+the war risk insurance would probably cover the _Valkyrie's_ loss as a
+war prize, but there was a chance that her German owners might send one
+of their hyphenated brethren down to Papeete to buy her in the prize
+court; and if that happened the chief wanted them to have a good ship.
+Perhaps, also, he figured on getting his old job back after the war. At
+any rate he got out a barrel of fine heavy grease and slobbered up his
+engines for fair.”
+
+It was too much. Cappy Ricks was too fine a sport not to acknowledge a
+beating; he was too generous not to rejoice in a competitor's gain.
+
+“You lucky, lucky scoundrel!” he murmured in an awed voice. “Not enough
+salt water will get through that grease to hurt those engines. Gus, how
+did you find this all out?”
+
+“Well, you can bet your whiskers, Cappy, I didn't depend on hearsay
+evidence and water-front reporters to dig it up for me. The minute I
+heard her sea cocks had been opened and that her funnels and masts were
+sticking up out of the harbor I concluded I was interested; so I sent
+Bill Jinks, of our office, down to Papeete to get me some first-hand
+information. The chief of the _Valkyrie_ is interned there, of course.”
+
+“May mad dogs bite me! Why in the name of all that's sweet and holy
+didn't I have sense enough to do that?” Cappy mourned.
+
+“You have lose the punch!” chirped Live Wire Luiz, and Cappy glared at
+him.
+
+“She's an honest vessel, Cappy.”
+
+“An' what you s'pose she have in her?” Live Wire Luiz demanded. “Oh,
+notheeng very much, Senor Ricks. Just two t'ousand tons of phosphate.”
+
+“Worth ten or twelve dollars a ton, Cappy.”
+
+“An' t'irteen hundred tons of the good coal to bring her to San
+Francisco, _Ai_, Santa Maria!” Live Wire Luiz blew a kiss airily into
+space and added: “I die weeth dee-light!”
+
+“You haven't got her yet,” Cappy snapped viciously.
+
+“No; but we'll get her all right,” Redell declared confidently.
+
+“How'll you get her?”
+
+“We've only one real competitor to buck--an Australian steamship
+company. They're crazy to get her; and as there are no French bidders on
+this side of the world, naturally and in view of the present condition
+of world politics the French authorities in Papeete are pulling for the
+Britisher. Jinks is now in Papeete and I'm about to start for there at
+one o'clock. Two bids, Cappy; I'll be the dark horse and file my bid at
+the last minute, after I've sized up the lay of the land. But, before I
+do so, I'm going to take the representative of that Australian steamship
+company into my confidence and find out what he's going to bid. For
+instance, now, Cappy, if you were bidding against me, how high would you
+go?”
+
+“She's a long way from nowhere,” Cappy replied thoughtfully. “It means
+sending a wrecking steamer down there with a lot of expert wreckers,
+divers, mechanics and carpenters; it means lumber for cofferdam and
+pontoons; it means donkey engines, cables, pumps, the stress of wind and
+wave--”
+
+“She lies in a protected cove, Cappy; the mean rise and fall of the
+tide, so close to the equator, is about eighteen inches, and the water
+is so clear you can always see what the divers are doing. Forget the
+stress of wind and wave.”
+
+“Forty thousand dollars would be my top figure if I were the Australian
+bidder,” Cappy declared, and added to himself: “But, as Alden P. Ricks,
+seventy-five might not stagger me in view of the present freight rates.”
+
+“Just what I figured,” Redell answered. “She'll cost us two hundred
+thousand dollars before we get her in commission again. I figure the
+Australian people will not go over forty thousand dollars. They won't
+figure Jinks as a heavyweight. I told him to create the impression that
+he was a professional wrecker--a sort of fly-by-night junk dealer, who
+would buy the vessel if he could get her at a great bargain. Then I'll
+drop quietly into Papeete, and at the eleventh hour fifty-ninth minute
+I'll slip in a bid that will top the Australian's. If by any chance
+Jinks' bid should also top the Australian's I'll just forfeit the
+certified check for ten per cent of my bid, run out and leave the ship
+to Jinks, the next highest bidder. The chances are I'll make a few
+thousand dollars at that.”
+
+“How do you purpose raising her--provided you are the successful
+bidder?”
+
+“Well, she has four hatches and she lies on an even keel. I'll build a
+coffer dam on her deck round these four hatches and pump her out. If we
+have enough pumps we can pump her out faster than the water can leak
+in under the coffer dam. When I've lightened her somewhat I'll kick her
+into the shore, little by little, until she lies in shallow water with
+her bulwarks above the surface. Then I'll patch the holes in her, pump
+her out--and up she'll come, of course.”
+
+“You say that so glibly,” Gappy growled, “one would almost think you
+could whistle it.”
+
+“Don't feel sore, Cappy. Do you know what a vessel of her age and class
+is worth nowadays? Well, I'll tell you. About sixty dollars a ton,
+dead weight capacity--and the _Valkyrie_ can carry seven thousand tons;
+that's four hundred and twenty thousand dollars--”
+
+“If you can get her up,” Cappy interrupted.
+
+“If I bid her in I'll get her up. Don't worry.”
+
+'“It'll clean you of your bank roll to do it.”
+
+“Of course. Luiz and I aren't millionaires like you; so we'll just form
+a corporation and call it the S. S. Valkyrie Company and sell stock
+in our venture. I have you down right now for a ten-thousand-dollar
+subscription at the very least, though you can have more if you want
+it.”
+
+“Gus,” Cappy pleaded, “if you bid that boat in for forty thousand
+dollars I'll give you ten thousand dollars for your bargain and
+reimburse you for all the expense you've been put to.”
+
+“Nothing doing, Cappy.”
+
+“I'll make it--let me see--I'll make it twenty thousand.”
+
+“You waste your breath. She'll pay for herself the first year she's in
+commission.”
+
+“I'll furnish the sinews of war, Gus, for a half interest in her. Let me
+add her to the Blue Star Fleet and you'll never regret it.”
+
+“Sorry, Cappy; but Luiz and I are ambitious. We want to get into the
+steamship business ourselves.”
+
+“Well, then, I've offered to do the fair thing by you two lunatics,”
+ Cappy declared with a great air of finality. “So now I'll deliver my
+ultimatum: I'm going to keep the _Valkyrie_ and not give you two as much
+as one little piece of her. Yes, sir! I'm going to send a representative
+to Papeete and match you and that Australian chap for your shoe-strings.
+Gus, you know me! If I ever go after a thing and don't get it, the man
+that takes it away from me will know he's been in a fight.”
+
+“Indeed, I know it, Cappy--which is why I kept this information
+carefully to myself. However, I guess you'll not get in on this good
+thing.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“You're too late for the banquet.”
+
+“Not one leetle hope ees left for you, Cappy Reeks,” Senor Almeida
+asserted. “The _Moana_, on which my good partner have engaged passage
+to-day, ees the last steamer which shall arrive to Papeete before the
+bids shall be open. The next steamer, Capitan Reeks ees arrive too
+late.”
+
+“Yes; and the _Moana_ sails in just twenty-five minutes, Cappy. If
+you're thinking of sending a man down to bid against me you'll have to
+step lively.”
+
+Cappy Ricks was now beside himself; this gentle, good-natured heckling
+had made of him a venerable Fury.
+
+“I'll cable my bid!” he shrilled.
+
+“No you won't Cappy, for the reason that there is no cable to Tahiti.”
+
+“Then I'll wireless it!”
+
+“Well, you can try that, Cappy. Unfortunately, however, the only
+wireless station in Tahiti is a little, old, one-cat-power set. It can
+receive your message, but it can't send one that will reach the nearest
+wireless station--and that's at Honolulu. And until the bank in Tahiti
+can confirm drafts by wireless I imagine it will not pay them on
+presentation.”
+
+Cappy surrendered. He couldn't stand any more.
+
+“Good-bye, Gus,” he said. “Good luck to you! If you get that vessel
+you'll deserve her, and when you're forming the S.S. Valkyrie Company
+I'll head the list of stock subscribers with a healthy little chunk. You
+know me, Gus! I'm the old bell mare in shipping circles; a lot of others
+will follow where I lead.”
+
+“I forgive you the spruce deal, Cappy. You're an awful pirate; but, for
+all that, you're a grand piece of work. God bless you!” And Redell put
+his arm round the old man affectionately. “Good-bye.”
+
+And, followed by Live Wire Luiz, who was going to the dock to see his
+partner aboard the _Moana_, Redell disappeared into California Street.
+
+“Dammit!” Cappy soliloquized bitterly. “I can't eat lunch now. One bite
+would choke me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+And he turned toward the entrance to the Merchants' Exchange, being
+minded to enter a telephone booth and notify the Bilgewater Club he
+would not be present that day. As he walked through the gate into the
+Exchange, however, he was accosted by a heavy, florid-faced man carrying
+a thick woolen watch coat over his arm. This individual was Captain
+Aaron Porter, one of the San Francisco bar pilots, and he greeted Cappy
+with a respectful query after the old gentleman's health.
+
+“I don't feel very well,” Cappy replied wearily. “I'm getting old,
+captain--getting old.”
+
+Then he noted the watch coat the pilot was carrying and decided
+subconsciously that there could be no connection between it and the
+sultry August weather prevailing at that moment; consequently it
+informed the observant Cappy, as plainly as if it had a tongue and had
+spoken, that Captain Aaron Porter expected shortly to be exposed to
+the chill northwest winds outside as he piloted a vessel to sea. In the
+manufacture of sheer inane conversation, therefore, Cappy tugged the
+coat and said:
+
+“Going to take a ship out this afternoon, captain?”
+
+“Yes, sir. I'll be responsible for the _Moana_ until we cross the Potato
+Patch--”
+
+“The _Moana!_” Cappy cried, and pulled out his watch. “You'd better be
+stepping lively, then. She sails at one, and you have twenty minutes to
+get to Greenwich Street Pier.”
+
+“Oh, there's no hurry, Mr. Ricks. She'll be delayed from half to
+three-quarters of an hour waiting for the Australian mail. The mail
+train from the East is late, and of course the _Moana_ cannot sail
+till--”
+
+“You will pardon me, captain,” Cappy Ricks interrupted politely, “but
+I've just thought of a very important matter. I must run and telephone.”
+
+As J. Augustus Redell had just pointed out, twenty minutes was scarcely
+ample time in which to decide on the right emissary to send to Papeete,
+get into communication with the said individual and induce him to go. In
+addition, such a person would have to have time to pack some clothing;
+also, to procure a letter of credit at the bank and purchase a ticket,
+not to mention the time requisite to receive his instructions and get to
+the steamer's dock. But with almost an hour--well, a wide-awake man
+can accomplish much in an hour, and Cappy Ricks was a natural leader of
+forlorn hopes. In the brief interval required to accomplish the journey
+from the door of the Merchants' Exchange to a telephone booth a flock of
+bright ideas capered through Cappy's ingenious head like goats on a tin
+roof.
+
+“Main 2000!” he barked, and in five seconds he had the connection. “Put
+Skinner on the line!”
+
+Cappy's own private exchange operator had the temerity to inform him
+that Mr. Skinner was out at luncheon.
+
+“The in-fer-nal scoundrel--just when I need him! Put Captain Matt
+Peasley on the line, and be quick about it. Matt! Matt, listen! This is
+the old man speaking. Get an earful of what I'm going to tell you now,
+and don't ask any questions--just obey! Do you remember that big German
+freighter--the Valkyrie--sunk in Papeete Harbor?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“She's a prize, Matt. I've just been given a low-down on her condition.
+Gus Redell is leaving on the _Moana_ to bid her in at the government
+sale--the young scoundrel told me all about it and twitted me because
+we were asleep on the job and let the good thing get away from us.
+The _Moana's_ supposed to sail at one o'clock, but the Eastern mail is
+late--she won't get away from the dock until about one-thirty; but when
+she does--”
+
+“When she does we'll have a man aboard her to beat Redell to the German
+steamer,” Matt Peasley interrupted. “I've got the message. Where are
+you, father-in-law?”
+
+“At the Merchants' Exchange.”
+
+“You attend to the funds and I'll do the rest.”
+
+“Confound you!” rasped Cappy Ricks. “You're so headstrong, you'll jam
+things up yet if you don't listen to me.”
+
+“But you'll have to send somebody Redell doesn't know.”
+
+“That doesn't matter at all. Now, son, will you listen to me? I'll
+attend to the money and I'll also frame this entire deal. Is Miss Keenan
+in the office--you know--Skinner's stenographer?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“She's been wanting to go on a vacation. When I heard about it I asked
+her how she'd like a cruise to Alaska--remember we have the _Tillicum_
+leaving at six to-night for St. Michael's. She said that would be fine;
+so I gave her a pass and the owner's suite on the _Tillicum_.”
+
+“So I hear. Her trunk was sent to the _Tillicum's_ dock this morning and
+she has her suit case in the office. She planned to work today and go
+aboard the _Tillicum_ after office hours.”
+
+“Good! Then she's all ready lor a voyage to Tahiti. Have the private
+exchange operator phone our wharf office instantly and tell them to load
+Miss Keenan's trunk on the first wagon handy and rush it over to the
+_Moana_. Give Miss Keenan fifteen hundred dollars and tell her she's
+to go to Papeete. If she kicks about clothes tell her to get along with
+what she has and buy what she needs on arrival.”
+
+He waited while Matt Peasley gave the necessary instructions to the
+exchange operator. Then:
+
+“It's all right, sir. Miss Keenan will go. She'll be on her way in five
+minutes. I've told her to go aboard and buy her ticket from the purser
+or from the ticket agent at the gang plank.”
+
+“Fine business! Now who else have we in our employ that I can send? I
+want a man--and a rattling smart one.”
+
+“Mike Murphy, the skipper of the _Narcissus_,” Matt suggested.
+
+“The very man! He's discharging at Union Street Wharf. Phone the
+wharfinger's office and tell him he'll not regret taking a message down
+to the dock to Captain Murphy. Murphy will probably be at lunch aboard.
+Tell the wharfinger to tell him to throw a few clothes into a suit
+case--that he's to go to Papeete on mighty important business--and to
+meet me at the head of Greenwich Street Dock at one-twenty, without
+fail, for his orders and his money. Having phoned these orders, Matt,
+take the office automobile and scorch to the water front to see that
+they're carried out. Take Miss Keenan with you. Good-bye.”
+
+And Cappy Ricks dashed out of the Merchants' Exchange as though the
+devil was at his heels walloping him at every jump. It was four blocks
+to the Marine National Bank, but the California Street cable car took
+him there in four minutes. Gasping and perspiring Cappy trotted into the
+cashier's office, where for ten precious seconds he stood, open-mouthed,
+unable to say a word.
+
+“Well, Mr. Ricks,” the cashier greeted him, “if you can't talk make
+signs.”
+
+Cappy flapped his hands and made three rapid strokes with his index
+finger, like a motion-picture actor writing a twelve-line letter; then
+the words came in a veritable cascade.
+
+“Letters of credit,” he croaked-“two.” The cashier picked up a pencil
+and a scratch pad. “One, twenty-five thousand, favor Michael J. Murphy;
+one, favor--oh, what in blue blazes is that girl's first name? Oh, dear!
+Oh, dear! I never heard her first name--she's just Miss Keenan. Oh,
+the devil! Call her Matilda--that's it--Matilda Keenan--fifty thousand
+dollars for her; and--”
+
+“You appear to be in a terrific hurry for them, Mr. Ricks, so I'll
+get them started immediately,” the cashier interrupted, and turned his
+memorandum over to an underling, with instructions to give Mr. Ricks'
+letters of credit precedence over all other business.
+
+“Now write--check--your favor--seventy thousand. I'll sign it--hope
+Skinner has enough cash on deposit; if he hasn't--my personal note, you
+know.”
+
+“A mere trifle, Mr. Ricks. We will not worry over that.” The cashier
+filled in the check and Cappy signed it with a trembling hand. “And
+now,” the cashier continued, “we will have to have Miss Keenan and Mr.
+Murphy come to the bank to register their respective signatures--”
+
+“Nothing doing!” Cappy piped. “Give me the cards and I'll have 'em write
+their signatures on them aboard the steamer and send them ashore by
+the pilot. None o' your efficiency monkey business, my son! I guarantee
+everything.”
+
+He dashed to the telephone and yelled into the receiver: “Taxicab!
+Taxicab!”
+
+“One of the cars belonging to the bank is at the curb, Mr. Ricks.
+The chauffeur will take you wherever you desire to go,” the cashier
+suggested.
+
+“Bully for you!” Again Cappy commenced to flap his hands.
+“Stenographer--where's the stenographer? Oh, Judas Priest, nobody helps
+me! Bless your sweet heart, my dear, here you are, aren't you? Yes,
+and I'll not forget you for it either. No, no, no! No notes. Just stick
+piece of paper in the typewriter--now then! Ready! Dictation direct to
+machine. Er--ah! Harumph-h-h! Oh, suffering sailor! What's the name
+of the French bank in Papeete? I don't know. I'm a director and vice
+president of this infernal bank--and I don't know I'm alive! Man, man,
+I want it--a thing--a what-you-may-call-'em--a--Oh, the devil! Why do I
+deposit in this dratted bank? Eureka! I have it! I want a notice.”
+
+“You mean an advice, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“Bully boy! An advice. That's it. Holy mackerel, how I love a man that's
+fast on his feet! A notice to the bank in Papeete, Island of Tahiti,
+that you've given Captain Michael J. Murphy a letter of credit for
+twenty-five thousand dollars--only one notice for one letter of
+credit. I'm up to skullduggery. Man, man, why don't you dictate? Usual
+courtesies--good customer of your bank--you know; usual flubdub. No
+advice regarding Miss Keenan's letter of credit--just Murphy's.”
+
+The cashier good-naturedly shouldered Cappy Ricks aside and dictated to
+the bank's correspondent in Papeete a brief note to the effect that
+the Marine National had that day issued to Captain Michael J. Murphy
+a letter of credit in the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars; that it
+understood Captain Murphy was proceeding to Papeete on some matter of
+business and took this occasion to commend him to their kindly offices.
+
+“Stick that in an envelope--address envelope, seal it, and write
+outside: 'Kindness purser S.S. _Moana._' The mail to Papeete is closed,
+but I'll see that the _Moana's_ purser delivers it to the bank,” Cappy
+ordered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+Ten minutes later Cappy dashed up to the entrance of Greenwich Street
+Pier and found Matt Peasley waiting for him, with Captain Murphy. Miss
+Keenan had already gone aboard the _Moana_, the huge funnel of which,
+as Cappy noted with a thrill, was still sticking up over the roof of
+the dock. He crooked his finger and Michael J. Murphy leaped up on the
+running board of his car.
+
+“Mike,” said Cappy solemnly, “listen to me! Here's a letter of credit in
+your name for twenty-five thousand dollars, and an advice to the bank
+in Papeete from our bank here stating that the letter of credit has been
+issued. Give this letter to the purser, together with a good-sized bill,
+and ask him to deliver it to the Papeete bank when the _Moana_ arrives
+there. Here, also, is a letter of credit for Miss Keenan in the sum of
+fifty thousand--and the bank in Papeete has no notice of it! Remember
+that! It's important. Keep it to yourself. Miss Keenan has the expense
+money for both of you; tell her to split the roll with you. Tell her,
+also, that her name from now until she gets back is Matilda Keenan, and
+to sign her drafts that way.
+
+“Here are the signature cards. You sign yours and have her sign hers;
+then you give both to Captain Porter, the pilot, when he leaves the
+ship, and ask him to deliver them to me. I, in turn, will deliver them
+to the bank. Tell Miss Keenan she is absolutely under your orders; that
+she's to forget she ever heard of the lumber and shipping business. Both
+of you are to keep away from a man by the name of J. Augustus Redell.
+He's aboard and he's our enemy, captain. He's going to bid forty
+thousand dollars on the German steamer _Valkyrie_; so you bid forty
+thousand and five dollars--and take her away from him. At the very last
+minute have Miss Keenan put in a bid for thirty thousand--in case--you
+know, Mike--we might catch it going and coming. It might pay to have you
+fall down on your bid--you know, Mike! She's the dark horse--the reserve
+capital. Papeete--one-horse town, Mike. Everybody knows the other
+fellow's business--principal competitor for the steamer is an Australian
+steamship company. Considering condition world politics today, and no
+French bidders, naturally Frenchmen will pull for the Britisher.
+Expect bank will leak and tell 'em you only arrived with twenty-five
+thousand--you know, Mike! Can't be too careful. Trust nobody--and
+remember this man Redell is the smartest young man in the world and
+the trickiest scoundrel under heaven. Don't hold him cheap. He's a holy
+terror! He'd pinch the gold out of your wisdom teeth while you'd be
+laughing at him.”
+
+“How high am I to go--if it becomes necessary to bid more than--”
+
+“Shoot the piece!” Cappy ordered. It is to be regretted that the
+Bilgewater Club, cut off from the house rules in a private dining room,
+had a habit of shooting craps occasionally after luncheon, and Cappy
+Ricks had picked up the patois of the game. “Seventy-five thousand is
+the limit; but satisfy yourself she's worth the limit before you go to
+it.”
+
+“And Redell is going to bid forty thousand, sir?”
+
+“That's his limit. He told me so in confidence when he felt certain I
+couldn't possibly be a competitor--told it to me, and kidded me for a
+dead one at twenty minutes of one, when he knew I couldn't possibly have
+time to act. But he forgot the mail--it was delayed--”
+
+“I get you, sir. There's more to this job than merely acquiring the
+ship,” retorted the astute Murphy.
+
+“There's a million dollars' worth of satisfaction in it for me if I can
+beat Gus Redell to that steamer. He says I've lost my punch.”
+
+But Captain Murphy was off down the dock, suit case in hand, while Cappy
+dismissed his borrowed car and climbed into the office car with Matt
+Peasley. Five minutes they waited at the head of the dock--and then
+four huge motor trucks, laden with mail, lumbered through the dock gate.
+Cappy beamed into Captain Matt Peasley's face.
+
+“I guess this is a rotten day's work for the president emeritus, eh?”
+ he chuckled. “President emeritus! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I
+waited for you and Skinner to get wise to all the good things that are
+lying round loose, the Blue Star Navigation Company would be in the
+hands of a receiver within the year. Matt, if you expect to manage
+the Blue Star you'll have to wake up. You're slow, boy--s-l-o-w-w! For
+heaven's sake, don't force me back into the harness! You know I've been
+wanting to retire for years.”
+
+“Well, our messengers are aboard, so let's get out of here. I'm hungry;
+I haven't had any lunch,” Matt replied.
+
+“Come to think of it,” Cappy answered cheerfully, “I believe I could
+eat a little something myself. However, I still have one small duty to
+perform, Matthew. I've got to send a wireless.”
+
+“To whom?”
+
+“That scoundrel Redell, of course. Think I'm going to swat him and leave
+him in ignorance of the fact?”
+
+Immediately upon arrival at the Commercial Club, Cappy sent the
+following message:
+
+“J. Augustus Redell,
+
+“Aboard S. S. _Moana_.
+
+“Augustus, my dear young friend, I have known men who grew rich by
+keeping their mouths closed!
+
+“CAPPY.”
+
+“There!” said Cappy, as he dispatched this simple declarative sentence.
+“I'll wager one small five-cent bag of smoking tobacco our friend Gus
+Redell will not sleep to-night. He'll just lie awake wondering what in
+Sam Hill I meant by that.”
+
+When he got back to his office he found an aerogram, which read as
+follows:
+
+“Alden P. Ricks
+
+“258 California Street
+
+“San Francisco
+
+“Everything lovely. After getting aboard decided to bluff; went to
+Redell, told him I was your representative. He went green clear back of
+the ears; said he had observed delay in sailing. Told him he'd better
+quit and go ashore with pilot; that I had bank roll choke hippopotamus.
+Your wireless handed him that moment! Would hesitate repeat his
+language. Have agreed pay him for his first-class ticket. All
+first-class cabins sold out; had to have it for Matilda. Steerage an
+awful place for a skipper, but will have to make the best of it.
+
+“MUHPHY.”
+
+Mr. Skinner, alarmed at the shrill screams emanating from Cappy Ricks'
+office, rushed in and found the president emeritus rolling round in his
+swivel chair, beating the air and stamping on the floor.
+
+“Good gracious, Mr. Ricks!” Skinner cried. “What's the matter? Are you
+hurt?”
+
+“Hurt!” Cappy shrilled. “Hurt? Well, I should say so! Skinner, my boy,
+if you ever lose your punch you'll know just how much I'm suffering. As
+Live Wire Luiz would say: 'I die weeth dee-light!'”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+Three months later Cappy Ricks sat alone in his office, his feet on
+his desk, his old head bowed on his breast. Apparently he was having
+a gentle snooze. Suddenly he sat up with the suddenness of a
+jack-in-the-box and stepped to the door leading to Mr. Skinner's office.
+
+“Skinner, my dear boy,” he said, “do you remember that stinking Humboldt
+spruce I sawed off on Live Wire Luiz one day when you were out to
+lunch?”
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded.
+
+“They claimed a rebate of six dollars a thousand on it,” he declared;
+“and we declined to allow the claim. Well, I've decided to allow it,
+Skinner. Tell Hankins to draw a check for the rebate in full and bring
+it in to me. Send in a stenographer.”
+
+Cappy clawed his whiskers as the stenographer took her seat at his desk.
+
+“Ahem! Hum! Harumph-h-h!” he began. “Take letter.”
+
+“Mr. J. Augustus Redell
+
+“President West Coast Trading Co.
+
+“Merchants' Exchange Building, City.
+
+“My dear Gus: Having waited for several weeks in the hope of meeting
+you at the Bilgewater Club, to which, due to some mysterious reason,
+you appear to have been excessively disloyal of late, I despair of the
+delight of a personal interview and am accordingly writing you.
+
+“You will recall that jag of odoriferous spruce your excitable partner
+was chump enough to buy from the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company. On
+the receipt this morning of a communication from my exceedingly capable
+representative in Papeete I came to the conclusion that I could afford
+to allow the rebate claimed by the excessively sour-balled Senor
+Almeida, and accordingly I am inclosing herewith, to the order of your
+company, the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company's check for $536.12.
+
+“I also beg to tender you my assurance that if I have seemed in the
+past to cherish an unchristian resentment of that little deal in grape
+stakes, the memory of the outrage no longer rankles in my bosom. For
+you, my dear young friend, I entertain the kindliest, the most paternal
+of feelings. I have not only forgiven, but I have also forgotten; for my
+honor is clear again and I figure I can pretty blamed well afford myself
+the luxury.
+
+“Regarding that steamer _Valkyrie_, please be advised that the next
+steamer to Australia, via Papeete and Raratonga, will carry a Blue Star
+flag and my instructions to our representative to have it tacked to the
+main truck of the _Valkyrie_ as she dies submerged in the harbor.
+Since I assume you will be interested in learning the details of our
+acquisition of the steamer in question, and since, further, I cannot
+see that I have anything to lose by withholding this interesting
+information, please be advised that we bought her in for twenty-two
+thousand five hundred dollars.
+
+“I fear you will be inclined to doubt this and accuse me of romancing
+for the purpose of dropping more salt in a wound still fresh and
+bleeding; but I assure you such a suspicion would be a grave injustice
+to an old man whose portion from you should be pity, not opprobrium.
+
+“To begin, it was very easy--after we had you out of the way. Like a
+sensible man, you knew you were licked and threw up the sponge to save
+yourself unnecessary punishment. It has been my experience that only a
+very wise man has sense enough to do that; consequently, despite your
+youth and impetuosity, I seem to see the glimmer of a very brilliant
+commercial future for the West Coast Trading Company.
+
+“However, to the story: When Mike Murphy got down to Papeete he found
+a couple of broken-down junk dealers hanging round--the kind of fellows
+who would have been glad to bid in the vessel at a couple of thousand
+dollars for the privilege of breaking her up for junk and gutting her
+of her cargo. A little reflection convinced Captain Murphy that he could
+eliminate these small fry and centre his attention on the Australian
+steamship company; and he was aided in arriving at this conclusion by
+your Mr. Jinks, whom he found glooming at the dock on the arrival of
+the _Moana_ minus your handsome self. By the way, Mr. Jinks' action in
+aiding and abetting Murphy, after discovering that his own company was
+out of the running, was so sportsmanlike that, if you will kindly advise
+me of the expense to which you were put in sending him to Papeete, we
+will gladly send you our check to cover.
+
+“It took the capable Murphy about an hour and a half to get the lay of
+the land--and then he started to play his little game. In the rather
+restricted society of Papeete Murphy played the fool. Every little while
+he would apparently acquire a small jag and get very confidential. He
+told everybody his business--in confidence--and everybody in Papeete
+knew just how much he was going to bid on the wreck. Finally, the day
+before the bids were to be opened--Murphy was waiting till the last
+minute before filing his--the captain of the port got a wireless from
+some adventurer down in Noumea, asking him to withhold the opening of
+the bids till he could get up to Papeete and make a bid. Murphy had
+already fooled away three weeks in Papeete and if the captain of the
+port hearkened to the request from the man from Noumea it would mean a
+wait of another three weeks. Consequently he awaited the next move with
+interest.
+
+“Well, Augustus, the captain of the port had the temerity to delay the
+opening of the bids, and Murphy noticed that his competitor hired
+an attorney and made a bitter and formal protest against the delay.
+However, it looked to Murphy like they had made just a little bit too
+much noise--so he hired an attorney and made a lot of noise himself.
+The captain of the port overruled both protests, however; and about that
+time Murphy decided to put over a dirty Irish trick. He announced
+he could see very clearly there was a move on to double-cross the
+legitimate bidders and that he wasn't going to hang round any longer.
+The _Timaru_ was due the next day, so he and Jinks engaged passage to
+San Francisco on her; and, just before he left, Murphy went up to the
+bank and drew eighteen thousand dollars on his letter of credit.
+
+“He got a certificate of deposit in his own name, and that same
+afternoon his attorney filed a sealed bid with the captain of the port.
+
+“Now I had suspected there might be a leak from that French bank in
+favor of the Australian; so I had taken care to have it advised by the
+Marine National here that the latter bank had issued a letter of credit
+for twenty-five thousand dollars to Captain Murphy. Therefore, the
+Papeete bank very naturally concluded that twenty-five thousand dollars
+was all the money Murphy had with him! And when he drew eighteen
+thousand dollars on it they thought they knew the exact amount of his
+bid; they thought, also, he had made a bid, in view of the fact that his
+attorney filed one the same afternoon. At any rate, the news reached the
+Australian and he withdrew his bid and substituted another. Since he
+was the possessor of straight inside information as to the amount of his
+single competitor's bid, he saw no reason why he should waste money;
+so he bid four thousand pounds, or approximately nineteen thousand five
+hundred dollars. They say he felt pretty sore when the bids were opened
+and the _Valkyrie_ went to Miss Matilda Keenan for twenty-two thousand
+five hundred dollars.
+
+“Miss Keenan, by the way, is Skinner's stenographer. Murphy was only the
+decoy. She carried the real bank roll and nobody suspected her; in fact,
+Murphy was so certain of his prey he didn't even bid! He tells me the
+_Valkyrie_ is really a gift, and that, at the widest possible estimate
+of salvage cost, the Blue Star Navigation Company has purchased, for
+two hundred thousand dollars, a four-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar
+ship--thanks to you!
+
+“With kindest regards, and again assuring you of the pleasure I have
+always taken in our friendship--a friendship which, I trust, nothing
+will ever disrupt--I am
+
+“Cordially and sincerely--”
+
+Cappy paused and gazed at the stenographer appraisingly.
+
+“Read that over again, my dear young lady,” he commanded.
+
+The girl complied and Cappy nodded his satisfaction.
+
+“You and Mr. Skinner get along all right?” he queried.
+
+“Oh, yes, sir.”
+
+“I'm very glad to hear that. You've been substituting for Miss Keenan,
+haven't you?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Well, you can have the job for keeps if you want it. You suit me. Take
+letter: 'Miss M. Keenan--' I called her Matilda, but her name's Mary; so
+let it go at that.
+
+“My dear Miss Keenan: Captain Murphy arrived on the _Timaru_, with the
+information that he had taken a chance and left our affairs in the laps
+of the gods and the capable hands of his understudy. It has been pretty
+tough sledding waiting for the next Australian steamer, but, thank God!
+she made port yesterday and your report of the success of your mission
+is before me. I thank you. Yen're a good girl, and I am very happy to
+learn of your engagement to Captain Murphy. He is a splendid fellow and
+I am sending him back to Papeete in command of our _Amelia Ricks_, which
+has been fitted up as a wrecker, to raise the _Valkyrie_. You had better
+wait in Papeete and marry him there, as I am opposed to long engagements
+among my employees; and Michael will do better and faster work if he
+settles all his personal worries before tackling those of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company.
+
+“On his return with the _Valkyrie_ I shall make him port captain of the
+Blue Star Fleet, which job will keep him home nights. And since, by
+his ingenuity, he succeeded in purchasing for twenty-two thousand five
+hundred dollars a piece of property for which I was prepared to pay as
+high as seventy-five thousand dollars, for your wedding present I
+shall allot you and Captain Murphy a ten-thousand-dollar piece of the
+_Valkyrie_. It should earn you thirty per cent and make you independent
+in your old age.
+
+“Very sincerely--”
+
+Cappy Ricks ceased dictating and clawed his whiskers reflectively.
+
+“Yes,” he murmured irrelevantly; “I guess that's considerable of a
+knock-out from an old fogy who's lost his punch!”
+
+Then, to the stenographer:
+
+“That will be all, my dear. As you pass through the general office
+tell those fellows out there that I've gone into executive session with
+myself and am not to be disturbed unless it's something very important.
+I've got to decide which one of our skippers to promote into the
+_Valkyrie_ when we get her up and I must think up a new name for her.
+I think I'll call her the J. H. Skinner. Skinner's a little slow on his
+feet, but he means well and he's old enough to have a ship named after
+him.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+The practical theft from the West Coast Trading Company of the German
+steamer _Valkyrie_, had, to Cappy's mind, atoned for the loss and
+humiliation he had suffered in that grape stake deal. His honor
+was clean again and for weeks he taunted Redell with the latter's
+inefficiency, insufficiency and general business debility, until, having
+extracted the last shred of triumph from the affair, a vague sympathy
+for Redell commenced to surge up in Cappy's kindly heart and he
+commenced casting about for an opportunity to do the former a favor.
+
+Redell had enjoyed his beating, for he was, indeed, a rare sport.
+However, he would have to retaliate. The feud must go on. Unless he
+could mix a modicum of fun with his profits, J. Augustus would not have
+regarded the fight worth while, so accordingly he kept his eyes and his
+ears open for a handy weapon with which to jab Cappy through that same
+old rift in his armor--his passion for a large profit through an adroit
+and ingenious deal in a commodity where even a very modest profit was
+not discernible to ordinary mortals.
+
+Finally Redell found the opportunity he sought. He was so proud of his
+formula that he could not forbear remarking casually to Live Wire Luiz
+one bright day that, granted good health and the approval of Providence
+for one week, he would knock Cappy Ricks for a goal. And he narrated his
+scheme.
+
+“Friend of my heart!” the little Peruvian cried excitedly, and held out
+his arms to Redell, inviting a fraternal embrace. “I love you! Damn eet!
+I say eet! You are one wezard weeth the money-making schemes!”
+
+Mr. Redell cautiously compromised on a hearty handshake; to avoid a kiss
+he was careful to keep the table between himself and Live Wire Luiz.
+
+“Shall we empty the corporate sock and climb aboard for every cent we
+can beg, borrow or steal?” he demanded.
+
+“Sure, I bet you!” Live Wire Luiz cried; for, though a featherweight
+physically, he was possessed of the courage of an Alexander.
+
+J. Augustus Redell put on his hat, took from a pigeonhole in his desk
+the last trial balance of the West Coast Trading Company's books
+and departed for a conference with his banker. Half an hour later he
+returned, and the expectant Luiz promptly noted a cloud on Mr. Redell's
+sunny countenance.
+
+“I can't arrange for a loan,” he reported disgustedly. “The limit, in
+view of our present obligations, has been reached.”
+
+“On the margin of ten cents,” suggested Live Wire Luiz, “take a chance,
+_amigo_. Thees is not speculation. It ees what you call the ceench weeth
+the copper reevets.”
+
+“I figure it that way; nevertheless, copper-riveted cinches sometimes
+aren't properly cinched and Fortune backs out of the packsaddle. I dare
+not take a long chance on this, Luiz. If something went wrong we'd be
+sadly embarrassed. We dare not take a chance up to the limit of what
+money we have on hand, because we need those funds for other things.”
+
+Live Wire Luiz swore mournfully in Spanish. Redell nodded and retired
+to his own office, where for an hour he sat with his head in his hands,
+searching his agile brain for a bright idea that would lead him out
+of his dilemma. Suddenly he leaped to his feet, tossed his hat to the
+ceiling and caught it again as it came down.
+
+“Cappy Ricks is my meat,” he declared aloud. “Besides, I owe Cappy one
+for making a monkey out of me on that last deal. He hoisted me on my own
+petard. Now I'll hoist him, and incidentally annex a profit for the West
+Coast Trading Company.”
+
+He rushed out into California Street and for the major portion of the
+day was very busy among various shipping offices. When he returned, late
+in the afternoon, to the offices of the West Coast Trading Company,
+his alert young face wore a pleased and confident smile. Live Wire Luiz
+noted this and took heart of hope.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+Cappy Ricks was, for the thousandth time since his voluntary retirement
+from active business some ten years previous, overwhelmed with his
+ancient responsibilities. Mr. Skinner had, under the insistent prodding
+of his wife, consented grudgingly to a vacation and had gone up into the
+Sierras to loaf and fish.
+
+Scarcely had Skinner departed when one of the Blue Star steamers ran
+ashore on the Southern California coast, and Captain Matt Peasley left
+immediately for the scene of the disaster to superintend the work
+of floating the stranded vessel. This left Cappy riding herd on
+the destinies of the Blue Star ships, with Mr. Hankins, Skinner's
+understudy, looking after the lumber.
+
+Prior to boarding the train, Matt Peasley had ventured the suggestion
+that Mr. Skinner be ordered by wire to return to town at once; but this
+veiled hint that the Blue Star ships could not be managed by the man
+who had built up the Blue Star Navigation Company had been received very
+coldly by the president emeritus of the Ricks interests.
+
+“Young feller,” Cappy informed his son-in-law testily, “I'll have you
+know I was managing the Blue Star Navigation Company quite some years
+before you quit wearing pinafores; so I guess, while you and Skinner are
+away from the office, we can manage to stagger along after a fashion.”
+
+“But I don't like to have you worried with business after you've
+retired--”
+
+“Retired!” Cappy hooted. “Swell chance I've got to retire! I'll die in
+the harness whether I want to or not. Tut, tut, my boy! Don't be afraid
+to put me in as a pinch hitter for this organization. The worst I can do
+is to single--and I might clout a home run.”
+
+“But Skinner has been away two weeks--”
+
+“Enough! It would be a bad thing to obsess Skinner with the notion that
+we can't get along without him. Then he never would take a rest; and
+I don't want any martyrs or neurasthenics round my office. You got
+anything on the fire that's liable to burn or boil over, before you get
+back?”
+
+“Nothing to worry about, Cappy,” Matt answered. “Our five-masted
+schooner _Mindoro_ is the only vessel requiring immediate attention. She
+arrived at Sydney yesterday with lumber from Gray's Harbor, and as yet I
+haven't been able to get a satisfactory return cargo for her.”
+
+“What have you been holding out for?”
+
+“I want to get a cargo for delivery in San Francisco if possible. The
+vessel will be ready to go on dry dock by the time she gets back here;
+and besides, I'm planning to put a semi-Diesel-type engine in her.”
+
+'“Not by a jugful! She wasn't built with a shaft log, and I won't have
+you weakening my _Mindoro_ by cutting away her deadwood--”
+
+“Tish! Tush! You're a back number, Cappy. They don't cut through the
+deadwood any more. They run the shaft out over her quarter and hang it
+on struts.”
+
+“She'll carry a helm--”
+
+“She'll not; but if she does, let her. It'll give the helmsman something
+to do.”
+
+Cappy subsided, fearful that if he persisted he might be given new
+evidence of the fact that times had changed a trifle, here and there,
+since he had--ostensibly--gone on the retired list.
+
+“Well, I'll take care of the _Mindoro_,” he assured his son-in-law.
+“Early in life I adopted the woodpecker as my patron saint. Ever since,
+whenever I want anything I keep pecking away, and pretty soon I bust
+through somewhere.”
+
+The following morning, bursting with a sense of responsibility, Cappy
+came bustling down to the office and got on the job at eight-thirty.
+After looking through the mail he called up all the freight brokers in
+town and urged them to make a special effort to line up a San Francisco
+cargo for the _Mindoro_; then he summoned Mr. Skinner's stenographer and
+was busy dictating when Mr. J. Augustus Redell was announced by a youth
+from the general office. Cappy went to the door to welcome his beloved
+young friend and business enemy.
+
+“Come in, Gus, my dear boy,” he chirped, “and rest your face and hands.”
+ He turned to the stenographer. “That will be all, my dear, for
+the present. I can't dictate business secrets in the presence of
+this--ahem--harumph-h-h!--er--”
+
+His desk telephone rang. Cappy took down the receiver and grunted.
+
+“J. O. Heyfuss & Co. are calling you, Mr. Ricks,” his private exchange
+operator announced.
+
+Cappy smiled and nodded. J. O. Heyfuss & Co. were ship, freight and
+marine insurance brokers.
+
+“Something doing for my _Mindoro_,” he soliloquized aloud.
+
+“Mr. Ricks?” a voice came over the wire.
+
+“Hello there!” Cappy replied at the top of his voice. For some reason
+he always shouted when telephoning. “Ricks on the job! Whatja got for
+my _Mindoro_, Heyfuss?... Zinc ore? Never carried any before. Don't know
+what it looks like.... Yes; that freight rate is acceptable. We should
+have more, but God forbid that we should be considered human hogs...
+Yes.... Sure it's for discharge in San Francisco? ... All right. Close
+for it.... Good-bye!... Hey there, Heyfuss! Don't close in a hurry. See
+if you can't get the charterers to pay the towage over to her loading
+port. If they won't pay all, strike 'em for half.”
+
+He hung up without saying good-bye.
+
+“Well, that's out of the way,” he declared with satisfaction. “Just
+closed for a cargo of zinc ore from Australia to San Francisco ex our
+schooner _Mindoro_. Matt Peasley's been hunting wild-eyed for a cargo
+for her--scouring the market, Gus--and nothing doing! And here the
+old master comes along and digs up a cargo while you'd be saying Jack
+Robinson. By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if you can show me how the
+rising generation is going to get by--”
+
+He paused suddenly, leaned forward, and pointed an accusing finger at
+his visitor.
+
+“Gus,” he charged, “you're up to something. I can see it in your eyes.
+You look guilty.”
+
+Mr. Redell hitched his chair close to Cappy and with his index finger
+tapped the old gentleman three times on the right knee-three impressive
+taps.
+
+“Alden P. Ricks,” he began with equal impressiveness, “I have a
+scheme--”
+
+Cappy chuckled and slapped his thin old thigh.
+
+“I knew it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! Gus, if you ever come into my
+office and fail to unload a scheme on me I'll think you aren't enjoying
+your usual robust health. What are you going to start now? A skunk farm
+for cornering the market on Russian sable?”
+
+“Cut out the hilarity. This is serious business, Cappy. I can show
+you where you and I can waltz into the Chicago Pit, make a killing on
+December wheat, and escape with a sizable wad before our identity is
+discovered.”
+
+Cappy, caught off his guard, blinked at the enormity of the prospect;
+but, remembering his dignity as a business man, he shook his head sadly
+and replied:
+
+“Wheat! Wheat, eh? A lumber and shipping man monkeying with wheat? Not
+for little old Alden P. Ricks! No, sir! When I go speculating I stick
+to my specialties--lumber and ships. Did you ever hear of a gambler,
+winning a fortune at faro, who didn't drop his winnings on the ponies?”
+
+“But this is a beautiful layout.”
+
+“I don't know anything about wheat and I'm too old to learn. Besides, I
+don't trust you, Gus. You're an infernal scoundrel; and experience has
+taught me that any time I take your tip and go in on a deal I have to
+step lively to keep from being walked on.”
+
+“But this time I'm free from guile. I won't stab you, Cappy.”
+
+“No use! The last boat just left, Augustus.”
+
+[Illustration with caption: He always shouted when telephoning.]
+
+Mr. Redell, however, was made of rather stern stuff. He was a young man
+who never took “No” for an answer. Persistence was his most striking
+characteristic.
+
+“Now listen,” he implored. “Let the dead past bury itself. I give you
+my word of honor, Cappy, that this deal is on the level. Just let me put
+all my cards on the table while you take a look; then, if you don't want
+to come in, all I ask is your word of honor that you'll stay out while I
+round up a partner with red blood in his veins.”
+
+Cappy pricked up his ears at that. He saw that Redell was serious; he
+knew that once the latter passed his word of honor he never broke it.
+Still, Cappy did not wish to appear precipitate in his surrender; so he
+said weakly:
+
+“I am against speculation.”
+
+“You mean you're against foolish speculation,” Redell corrected him. “I
+take it, however, that you have no objection to playing a sure thing.”
+
+“Well,” Gappy admitted, “in that event I might be persuaded.
+Nevertheless, I'm afraid of you. There's a fly in the ointment, even if
+I cannot see it. You owe me a poke, and you'll never rest until you've
+squared the account between us.”
+
+Mr. Redell held up his hands in abject distress.
+
+“Cappy,” he pleaded, “don't say that. You wrong me cruelly. It is in
+my power to stand idly by and let you assimilate a poke right now; but,
+just to show you I haven't any hard feelings, I'll do something nice for
+you instead.”
+
+“What do you mean--nice?”
+
+“I'll save you money--not only today but for years to come; and I'll
+save your self-respect.”
+
+“Shoot!”
+
+“Call up J. O. Heyfuss & Co. and tell them to take their cargo of zinc
+ore in bulk for your schooner _Mindoro_ and go to the devil with it!”
+
+“But, good gracious, boy, I have to get something for her homeward
+trip!”
+
+“In this case nothing is better than something. Do you know anything
+about zinc ore?”
+
+“Yes; as much as an Eskimo knows about the doctrine of
+transubstantiation.”
+
+“I thought so. Well, I'll enlighten you. Zinc ore is blamed near as
+heavy as lead, and it's as fine as cement. Load it in a ship in bulk
+and, what with the pitching and rolling of a vessel on a long voyage,
+she opens up every seam and crack in her interior; then this powdered
+ore sifts into the skin of the ship and down into her bilge, and you'll
+never be able to get it out without tearing the ship apart. Why, after
+a vessel has freighted a cargo of zinc ore there may be as much as fifty
+tons left in her after she's supposed to be discharged; and, of course,
+thereafter she'll carry that much less cargo than she did before.
+Besides, the consignees are liable to send you a bill for the shortage;
+you can gamble your head they'll deduct it from the freight bill.”
+
+“Holy sailor!” Cappy was appalled.
+
+“Why,” Redell continued, “I'm surprised at your ignorance, Cappy!”
+
+“And I'm amazed at your intelligence! Where did you get all this
+zinc-ore dope?” Cappy challenged. “How do you know it's true?”
+
+“I got it from Captain Matt Peasley. I heard him give it to J. O.
+Heyfuss on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange two weeks ago, when
+Heyfuss tried to sneak up on his blind side and hang that cargo of zinc
+ore on him. I guess they weren't importing much zinc ore when you were
+active in business, Cappy, or you'd have known all about it. You see
+the plot, don't you? As soon as Heyfuss learned that Matt Peasley and
+Skinner had gone away, leaving a defenseless old man on the job, he
+organized himself to spear you.”
+
+“The shameless son of a sea cook! By gravy, Gus, you're my friend!”
+
+“Need any more proof?”
+
+“Not a speck.”
+
+“Then I'll give you some. Call up Heyfuss and declare that ore cargo
+off; after you've done that I'll tell you where you can get something
+better. Moreover, you can close the deal yourself and save the
+brokerage.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+Cappy Ricks called up J. O. Heyfuss and in a few terse sentences told
+that individual where to head in.
+
+“Now, then--” he began, facing round on Redell once more.
+
+Again Redell's index finger tapped Cappy's knee. Dramatically he
+pronounced a single word:
+
+“Wheat!”
+
+“Wheat?”
+
+“Wheat!”
+
+“What kind of wheat?” In his amazement Cappy was rather helpless.
+
+“Number One white Australian wheat.”
+
+“You jibbering jackdaw! Wheat? Don't you know blamed well that wheat is
+one of the commodities Australia never exports to these United States?
+Why? Because we don't need her doggoned wheat! We grow all the wheat we
+need and a lot more we don't need; we export that, and it's just as fine
+wheat as you'll find anywhere. Moreover, any time our crop is a failure,
+our next-door neighbor, Canada, is Johnny-on-the-spot, ready to make
+prompt delivery. So what in thunder are you talking about?”
+
+For answer J. Augustus Redell drew from his pocket that morning's paper
+and pointed to the headline of a front-page story. Cappy adjusted his
+spectacles and read: Bakers Announce Six-Cent Loaf!
+
+“Hum-m-m!” said Cappy.
+
+“You bet! And it's a smaller loaf, by the way. Doesn't that argue that
+there is something doing in wheat, when the price of bread goes to six
+cents for a half portion?”
+
+“Well, there might be something in that, Gus. Crack along and tell me
+some more.”
+
+“Until the identity of the real culprits is fixed, Cappy, we must blame
+the war in Europe for the six-cent loaf; likewise for the fifteen-dollar
+shoe that formerly cost our wives six or seven; for the eleven pounds of
+sugar for a dollar, when twenty to twenty-two pounds was the standard in
+the good old days. Europe is too busy fighting to pay much attention to
+farming; the wheat farmers of Canada are somewhere in France instead of
+being at home 'tending to business; and it has been up to Uncle Sam
+and the Argentine Republic to feed the world, you might say. Naturally
+speculators have seized upon this condition to shoot the price of wheat
+to the skies, and in desperation the millers have been casting about to
+buy cheaper wheat. Investigation discloses the fact that Australia has
+an enormous quantity of wheat on hand; some of it is the surplus of the
+1915 crop. Of course she has exported all she could to England; but, at
+that, she has been handicapped.”
+
+“How?”
+
+“Because when a ship sails from Liverpool with goods for Australia, it
+is a rare case when that same ship promptly loads with Australian
+goods and puts back to Liverpool. She takes a cargo of coal, say, from
+Newcastle up to Manila; a general cargo from Manila to Seattle or San
+Francisco; thence to a West Coast port with a general cargo; thence to
+New York with nitrate; thence to Europe with foodstuffs or munitions.
+Australia hasn't had the tonnage to export her wheat and it's been
+piling up on her. Now they've simply got to sell something to get some
+ready money.”
+
+“This is perfectly re-markable!”
+
+Redell took a document from his pocket and gravely handed it to
+Cappy, who examined it and discovered the same to be a charter party,
+consummated the day before between the West Coast Trading Company,
+owners of the barkentine _Mazeppa_, and Messrs. Ford & Carter, a well
+known export and import firm whose principal business was done in grain.
+Cappy read the charter party carefully and even verified the signatures,
+with which he was familiar. The vessel was to carry a cargo of wheat
+from Melbourne to San Francisco at a freight rate that fairly shrieked
+the word “Dividend.”
+
+“Re-markable!” Cappy declared. “Preposterous!”
+
+“Seeing is believing. Call up Ford & Carter, and they'll jump over
+themselves to give you a cargo of wheat for your _Mindoro_.”
+
+“Im-possible!”
+
+“Well, I'm telling you. Why, it stands to reason, Cappy! Canada and the
+United States are so much nearer Europe than is Australia that it has
+been cheaper to use our wheat, and the result is we've been cleaned out;
+and the newspapers are filled with dismal stories of the sufferings of
+the poor due to the increased price of bread.”
+
+“Come to think of it, Gus, there _has_ been a lot of that stuff in the
+papers lately. But, of course, when a fellow's stomach is full and he
+isn't in danger of being attached for debt, he never thinks of the less
+fortunate brother. Yes, Gus, I dare say the demand for our wheat now
+exceeds the visible supply.”
+
+“Is it any wonder, then, that this condition of affairs should come to
+the attention of the Australian exporters? Just because Australian
+wheat has never been shipped into the United States is no reason why
+it shouldn't be shipped--particularly when the price of flour goes up
+daily. Why, we pay two and a half dollars for the fifty-pound sack
+of flour that formerly cost us a dollar and a quarter! Eggs are up to
+seventy cents a dozen--by jingo, Cappy, what's going to become of us?”
+
+“God knows!” Cappy answered dismally.
+
+Redell had him hypnotized. Already Cappy could see the gates of the
+poorhouse opening to receive them all. Redell's voice brought him back
+to a realization of his peril.
+
+“You'll find, Cappy Ricks, that for months to come every sailing vessel
+that carries lumber to Australia from the Pacific Coast will come back
+with a cargo of wheat while these war prices are maintained.”
+
+“Great Jumping Jehoshaphat! How'd you get next to all this, Gus?”
+
+“The early bird gets the worm, and success comes to the man who creates
+his own opportunities. I thought it all up out of my own head, Cappy,
+and then tried it out on Ford & Carter. It knocked 'em cold for a
+minute; but that was only because the proposition was so unusual. When
+I explained the situation to them, however, and gave them time to digest
+it, both offered to take me out to luncheon. You can see for yourself
+they've chartered our Mazeppa at a fancy freight rate.”
+
+Cappy licked his lips.
+
+“The _Mindoro_ is sound, tight and seaworthy,” he murmured. “She could
+carry wheat.”
+
+“Come on in, Cappy. The water's fine!”
+
+“I'll do it! Gus, you're a mighty good fellow, if I do say it that
+shouldn't. I have five windjammers en route to Australia this minute,
+and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I can get wheat charters for
+all of them on the return trip I'll accept, if it costs me money. Gus,
+something has got to be done about this high cost of living or we'll all
+go to hell together. There comes a time in a man's life when he must put
+aside the sordid question of 'How much is there in it for me?' and ask
+himself: 'How much can I put in it for the other fellow?' Gus, it's our
+Christian duty to furnish tonnage to import this wheat. We should, as
+patriotic citizens, make it our business to boom Australian wheat in
+the United States and give these doggoned pirates that gamble in the
+foodstuffs of the country a run for their money. Food prices should be
+regulated by this Government. The Chicago Pit should be abolished by
+legislative enactment--”
+
+“Well, they won't do it this year, Cappy,” Redell interrupted dryly.
+“Still, it occurred to me that I saw an opening where two high-minded
+philanthropists--to wit, Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell--might
+strike a blow for freedom and at the same time give these wheat
+speculators a kick where it will do them the most good. When one cannot
+annihilate his enemy the next best thing is to take some money away
+from him; and you and I, Cappy Ricks, can take a young fortune away from
+these fellows, while at the same time depressing the price of wheat and
+doing our fellow countrymen a favor. Are you prepared to volunteer under
+my banner? If so, hold up your right hand.”
+
+Cappy held up his right hand.
+
+“Out with it, Gus,” he ordered; “out with it! This is most interesting.”
+
+“Ah! You're interested now, are you? Well, bearing in mind the fact that
+your specialty is lumber and ships, I will give you an opportunity to
+withdraw before it is too late. Besides, it occurs to me that I have
+already done enough for you today.”
+
+“Don't be greedy, Gus. Remember there is an exception to every rule.
+Besides, I'm getting old and--er--ahem!--hell's bells, boy, I've got
+to have my fling every once in a while. Come now, Gus! Out with it! I
+believe your proposition embodied the coupling of both our names in the
+betting, did it not?”
+
+“It did, Cappy. Still, come to think of it, I really ought not to come
+in here and tempt you into speculating--”
+
+“How much money do you want?” Cappy shrilled impatiently. “Cut out this
+infernal drivel and get down to business. Unfold your proposition; and
+if it looks to me like a winner I'll take a flyer with you if it's the
+last act of my sinful life.”
+
+“On your own head be it, Cappy. Here goes! However, before laying my
+plan before you, perfect frankness compels me to state that my visit to
+you was not born of an overweening desire to do you a kindness or make
+money for you. Philanthropy is not my long suit--in business hours; and
+my interest in you today is purely a selfish one.”
+
+“Go on; go on, boy! Am I a child in arms?”
+
+“I have made a ball, Cappy,” Redell continued, “and I want you to
+fire it. I have a splendid prescription to make a clean-up in December
+wheat--”
+
+“Give me your prescription.”
+
+“Well, sir, my prescription lacks one small ingredient to make it a
+standard household remedy. You can supply that ingredient--to wit, cash
+of the present standard of weight and fineness. Every spare dollar that
+Live Wire Luiz and I can get our hands on is working overtime in the
+legitimate business of the West Coast Trading Company; every loose asset
+with a hockable value has been hocked, and we dare not strain our credit
+with our banker by borrowing money with which to speculate. If I apply
+for a sizable loan, without putting up collateral, he'll ask me what I
+want to do with the money--and if I answer truthfully he'll throw
+Luiz and me and our account out of his bank. And I never was a very
+successful liar. Therefore, in consideration of the valuable information
+I can furnish, I suggest that you carry me for a quarter of a million
+bushels of December wheat.”
+
+“How much will that cost me?” Cappy queried warily.
+
+“We'll operate on margin. I think a margin of ten cents a bushel will do
+the trick; of course, if wheat should go up a point you'll be asked to
+come through with more money. However, I have a sneaking notion that
+a well-known heavyweight like you can place his order with any of the
+local brokers without having to put up a single cent; at the most they
+might ask you for five thousand or ten thousand dollars. But they know
+you're good for any engagement you may make; they'd be tickled to death
+to have your promissory note. I suggest that you get in touch with a
+sound brokerage house in this city--one that is a member of the New York
+Exchange and the Chicago Board of Trade--and sell, for my account, two
+hundred and fifty thousand bushels of December wheat at the market.”
+
+“What'll I do for myself?”
+
+“Go as far as you like. You know your own limitations. I'm desirous
+of selling a quarter of a million bushels at the market; and, as I am
+furnishing the plans and specifications for this raid, I suggest that
+you sell at least a quarter of a million yourself.”
+
+“Funny business!” Cappy murmured. “Selling a quarter of a million
+bushels of wheat you do not own and never will! Hum-m-m! Ahem!
+Harumph-h-h! Then what?”
+
+He bent his head and gazed very severely at Mr. Redell over the rims
+of his spectacles. For reply Mr. Redell took from his pocket thirteen
+sheaves of paper and handed them to Cappy, who investigated and
+discovered them to be thirteen forty-eight-hour options on thirteen
+sailing vessels bound to Australian ports with lumber, and not as yet
+provided with a return cargo to the United States.
+
+“By to-morrow morning I shall have exercised those options and closed
+for thirteen cargoes of wheat,” Redell explained. “You have five vessels
+bound to Australia also. Give me an option on them for their return
+cargo and that will make eighteen.”
+
+“Yes, yes. Then what?”
+
+“I will charter all of the eighteen to Ford grain of it, in order to
+protect themselves against a falling market.”
+
+“Naturally. And the market is--”
+
+“December wheat closed in the Chicago Pit yesterday at $1.89 1/2, and
+the market has been very stiff for quite a while. The bulls are right on
+the job.”
+
+“Will not the advent of all this Australian wheat depress the market?”
+ Cappy shrilled excitedly.
+
+“Not unless the bears happen to find it out, Cappy,” Redell retorted
+gently. “It is our job to bring the matter to their attention, for it
+so happens that Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell are the only two
+people in the United States who happen to know about it. Ford bulls
+will get panicky; the bears will take heart of hope, and with Number One
+white Australian wheat they'll beat the brains out of the market and in
+all probability kick it down to $1.85, at which figure we promptly buy
+as much wheat as we have previously sold. Thus we cover our shorts,
+and the difference between $1.89 1/2 and $1.85, less brokerage and
+interest--if any--will be, roughly speaking, four cents. Four cents on a
+quarter of a million bushels is ten thousand dollars--not a great deal,
+truly, in these days of swollen fortunes, but, nevertheless, a nice
+piece of velvet--eh, Cappy, you sporty boy?”
+
+“It isn't so much the money we make,” Cappy replied sagely. “It's the
+fun we have making it, my boy; the joy of putting over a winner. The
+instant a man begins to love money for money's sake he's a knave and
+a fool. Kill him! But--er--ahem--as you say, my dear young friend, ten
+thousand each is not to be--er--sneezed at.”
+
+“Then you're coming in on the deal?”
+
+“I should tell a man!”
+
+After the fashion of the West they shook hands on it and went to
+luncheon at the Commercial Club.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+Directly luncheon was over and Cappy Ricks had returned to his office,
+J. Augustus Redell moved into action. He called on Messrs. Ford &
+Carter, talked the situation over with them, and showed them where they,
+having the necessary tonnage in hand with which to guarantee delivery,
+could bring a couple of million bushels of fine Number One white
+Australian wheat to the Pacific Coast, cut the price a cent, and
+doubtless unload every kernel of it at a fair profit. There was
+every probability that wheat would go to two dollars. For his part in
+producing this profit Mr. Redell desired a commission of five per cent
+on all sales of wheat imported in the bottoms he had under option and
+which he stood ready to turn over to Ford & Carter without profit,
+since the owners of the vessels would pay him the customary broker's
+commission on the freight money earned on the voyage. Ford & Carter
+said they would think the matter over; so Mr. Redell tactfully withdrew,
+stating that he would call up the following day for an answer.
+
+He knew Ford & Carter would promptly dispatch a long cablegram to their
+agent in Australia, instructing him to get a forty-eight-hour option on
+the wheat, with a guaranty of delivery to the vessels as they arrived
+from time to time. Meantime, Ford & Carter would quote every milling
+company in the West, subject to prior acceptance and their ability
+to deliver Number One Australian wheat at a price that would be of
+interest. If the milling companies accepted this rather nebulous
+quotation and telegraphed orders, and Ford & Carter's Australian agent
+could purchase at a satisfactory price the wheat to fill these orders,
+then Ford & Carter would make formal acceptance and purchase the wheat.
+If, on the other hand, their agent in Australia failed to get the wheat,
+then Ford & Carter had an “out” with the milling companies who desired
+to buy the wheat from them, and the entire matter would be off, with
+Ford & Carter merely out a couple of hundred dollars in telegraph bills.
+That was the bet they had to make to put their fortune to the touch; and
+right cheerfully did they make it.
+
+J. Augustus Redell gave them all the time he could. His forty-eight-hour
+options on the vessels then en route to Australia had cost him nothing;
+that was a courtesy which one shipowner always extends to another, free
+of charge, unless the vessel happens to be on demurrage at the time the
+option is given. When his options were within two hours of expiring he
+called on Ford & Carter.
+
+“We'll take 'em all,” Carter almost shouted at him. “They'll be arriving
+with sufficient time elapsing between arrivals to guarantee us immunity
+from any undue delay or embarrassment in loading them. We've bought the
+wheat and sold it; now give us the tonnage to freight it, Redell, and
+we'll all be happy, and a little richer than we were the day before
+yesterday.”
+
+Redell took up the telephone and called each shipowner, in turn, to
+inform him that he would exercise his option on the latter's ship, and
+for the owner to prepare charter parties and send them up to his office
+for signature.
+
+“I will have no difficulty in getting the owners to agree to an
+assignment of these charters to you,” he advised Carter. “You and Ford
+are brothers in good standing, I take it. However, if they insist on
+doing business through me, in order that they may hold me responsible,
+I'll simply recharter to you at the same rate.”
+
+“Lovely!” cried Messrs. Ford & Carter in unison.
+
+Ten minutes later J. Augustus Redell burst into Cappy Ricks' sanctum and
+wakened the old gentleman from his afternoon siesta.
+
+“The trap is set,” he announced. “Come on, Cappy! We're going up to the
+broker's office now and give the order to sell our December wheat. I
+can't go alone, you know. There wouldn't be an odor of sanctity about
+the transaction if I did.”
+
+“We'll have Gregg & Company attend to it for us,” Cappy announced. “You
+remember Harry Gregg, don't you? Used to be in the steamship business
+years ago. Gosh, that boy knows me! He'll take a stiff finger bet from
+Alden P. Ricks.”
+
+Together they motored uptown to the office of Gregg & Co., where Cappy's
+card gained him instant admittance to the broker's private office.
+Redell remained in the anteroom on pretense of speaking to an
+acquaintance, and the instant Cappy disappeared into Gregg's office
+Redell stepped out into the hall, where he waited until Cappy had booked
+his order and came hunting for him.
+
+“Well, I've sold my two hundred and fifty thousand bushels at a
+dollar-ninety,” Cappy announced.
+
+“How much margin?” Redell demanded.
+
+“Oh, Gregg didn't sting me very hard. Ten cents a bushel. It seemed like
+a good bet to him. He looks for a drop in December wheat.”
+
+“Met a pest out here and couldn't seem to get away from him,” Redell
+explained. “Take me in and introduce me to Gregg, and I'll give him an
+order to sell a jag of wheat for me.”
+
+Cappy complied and Redell gave the broker his order.
+
+“It will take about twenty-five thousand dollars to margin this trade,
+Mr. Redell,” the latter remarked easily as he wrote out the order and
+handed a copy to Redell.
+
+“Nonsense!” Cappy struck in. “Mr. Redell is one of our most delightful,
+trustworthy and popular young men, and to ask him for twenty-five
+thousand dollars today would prejudice his standing with his banker. I
+guarantee him, Harry. Treat him as you'd treat me. I guarantee him up to
+a hundred thousand dollars.”
+
+“Your guaranty goes with me, Mr. Ricks,” Gregg answered promptly, and
+shoved the copy of the order he had just booked over to Cappy, together
+with the fountain pen. Cappy wrote: “O. K. Alden P. Ricks.” Redell gave
+his check for ten thousand dollars margin and the deal was closed. When
+the scheming pair returned to Cappy's office the latter gave Redell his
+check for ten thousand to reimburse Redell for margining the trade, in
+accordance with Cappy's verbal agreement to provide the sinews of war.
+
+“Now then, Cappy,” Redell announced as he stuffed Cappy's check into his
+pocket, “the next move is to return to my office, close those charters
+with the owners and turn the ships over to Ford & Carter. That matter
+attended to, I shall, with eighteen charter parties in my pocket, drift
+casually over to the Merchants' Exchange. There I shall find the market
+reporters for both of our sunrise sheets; if they are not there I shall
+wait until they arrive. These gifted young men I shall draw to one side;
+to them I shall, with great gusto, relate a tale of Number One white
+Australian wheat, shortly to descend upon the United States of America
+in no less than eighteen vessels, now chartered for that purpose, with
+more to follow. In proof of this statement I shall exhibit the charter
+parties; and then--”
+
+“Front-page story!” Cappy declared, interrupting.
+
+“Not yet--but soon. To get on the front page a story must be rather
+unusual. A perusal of our daily rags will convince the most skeptical
+that the sensational, the unusual, the bizarre are what appeal most to
+the men who make the newspapers. The unusual thing about our deal lies
+in the fact that this is the first time in the history of Australia or
+the United States that the former country has exported wheat into the
+latter--the first time the latter has ever had to call on an outsider
+for help. Then, Cappy, it will be a front-page story--and how those boys
+will hop to it! Why, we'll get a column about Australian wheat invading
+the land of the free whose rapacity threatens the very food that goes
+into the mouths of little children! Little children and their mouths is
+good stuff! I'll use that line when slipping the story to the boys. They
+might overlook it if I didn't. I'll remind them of the six-cent loaf
+of bread, the sufferings of the poor, and how far the importation of
+Australian wheat will go to knock the Chicago wheat barons for a goal.”
+
+“Here, here! You're too precipitate,” Cappy cautioned. “Don't tip this
+story off to both reporters. That's coarse work. Tell it to one only.
+Put him under obligations to you by seeming to give him a scoop. Tell
+him you won't say a word to his competitor, and he'll tell his city
+editor the story is exclusive; then they'll be certain to play it up
+big.”
+
+“Cappy, you're the shadow of a rock in a weary land! Who'll tip off the
+other reporter?”
+
+“I will, of course. Leave it to me. A man doesn't go through the mill
+of Big Business without knowing the way of that singularly useful
+individual, the newspaper man.”
+
+Redell sat down and laughed until the tears ran down his merry
+countenance. Cappy thought the outlook sufficiently cheerful to warrant
+that laugh, and suspected nothing. He even joined in the laugh.
+
+“And to-morrow morning, when that story appears, the local brokerage
+firms will be calling up Ford friend and gave him a paternal hug. He
+winked wickedly.
+
+“My dear boy,” he suggested, “suppose you and I go out and pin one on?
+Hey? How about you, boy? A pint of '98, in order that we may properly
+drink confusion to the wolf of want and damnation to dull care!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+
+Late that afternoon Cappy Ricks graciously summoned the Chronicle
+reporter to his office and told him in detail all he knew about the
+Australian wheat invasion.
+
+“Of course,” he added, “this may be mere street gossip; but I think
+there's something in it, my boy. At any rate, I thought you might care
+to be tipped off to the situation. It looks like a corking story to me.
+I suggest that you call up Ford & Carter and see what they have to say
+about it.”
+
+“I wonder whether the Examiner reporter has a tip on this?” the
+Chronicle man queried hopefully.
+
+“Not from me. This story is for you, young man. That's why I called you
+down to my office.”
+
+About the same hour J. Augustus Redell might have been seen at the press
+table on 'Change, unfolding a similar story to the market reporter
+of the Examiner, who thought it was a humdinger of a story, and so
+declared.
+
+“All right. Glad you think so,” Mr. Redell replied, beaming upon him.
+“And just to show you I'm right, I'll not breathe a word of it to the
+Chronicle man.”
+
+Having planted his journalistic bomb, Mr. Redell glanced at his watch.
+It was exactly eleven o'clock. “I still have time,” he murmured, and
+departed immediately to the office of Gregg of December wheat, but to
+cease selling the instant the market hesitated to absorb it or the price
+broke a point. At the same moment, in another brokerage office, Cappy
+Ricks was issuing a similar order. Before the market closed, Cappy had
+succeeded in selling a hundred and eighty thousand bushels, while Redell
+had disposed of a hundred and thirty. Evidently the bears took it as it
+came, for the market closed strong at $1.89.
+
+Neither Cappy nor Redell reported at his office the following day. At
+the hour when the market opened in Chicago both schemers appeared on
+the floor of the Merchants' Exchange and bent their gaze upon the
+only blackboard on 'Change they had not heretofore honored with
+their scrutiny--the board in back of the Grain Pit, which carried the
+quotations on the Chicago Board of Trade, already beginning to come in
+by wire.
+
+For an hour the trading was inactive. Then suddenly the price broke
+half a point as somebody tossed a lot of fifty thousand bushels on
+the market. Cappy and Redell each wondered whether he might not be the
+responsible party; and while they pondered somebody unloaded a hundred
+thousand bushels at $1.88. Cappy gasped as the quotations appeared on
+the blackboard.
+
+“Something doing, Gus!” he whispered; Redell nodded.
+
+And now commenced a period of wild trading. The price crept back to
+$1.89, only to be assaulted and beaten back to $1.87; then, fraction
+by fraction and point by point, the price fell; and J. Augustus Redell
+wagged his head approvingly.
+
+“They have received our message,” he said. “The riot is on!”
+
+When the price had been beaten down to $1.83 Cappy turned to his
+associate.
+
+“I'm through!” he said. “Time to cover my shorts.” And he trotted away
+to a telephone booth.
+
+As for Redell, he would not intrust his fortune to a telephonic order,
+but sprang into 'his runabout, parked at the curb outside the Exchange,
+and scorched uptown to Gregg & Co.'s offices, where he learned that he
+had sold four hundred and ten thousand bushels of December wheat. One
+hundred thousand had been sold at $1.90, two hundred and eighty thousand
+at prices varying from $1.89 to $1.88 1/8, and the remainder at 1.88.
+
+“Buy me four hundred and ten thousand bushels at the market,” he
+ordered.
+
+Before he left the office the sale had been confirmed and Mr. Redell's
+shorts had been covered at a price ranging from $1.83 to $1.83 5/8,
+whereupon he closed out his trade and received a check for his margin
+and his profits. An hour later he met Cappy Ricks again on 'Change.
+
+“Well, Cappy?” he queried.
+
+“I cleaned up, thank you,” the old gentleman informed him. “Sold,
+bought, and got the money. This is one time it rained duck soup and I
+was there with a bucket.”
+
+He prodded Mr. Redell playfully in the short ribs and the incident was
+closed. They had made a profit of more than twenty thousand dollars
+each; and when each returned to his office he forgot all about December
+wheat until half past five that evening, when both met on the deserted
+floor of the exchange to scan the blackboard. December wheat had closed
+that day at $1.83! Two days later J. Augustus Redell called Cappy Ricks
+on the telephone.
+
+“That you, Cappy?”
+
+“Yep!”
+
+“Redell speaking. Read the story on the front page of the Chronicle this
+morning?”
+
+“No; what was it?”
+
+“The British Government has placed an embargo on the exportation of
+wheat from Australia; so all those eighteen charters I negotiated with
+Ford were placed with Ford & Carter subject to Ford & Carter's ability
+to make delivery and to prior sale. Before Ford & Carter could make
+them firm orders and get in over their heads, I tipped them off to the
+possibility of this government embargo.”
+
+“You tipped them off! How did you know the British Government was going
+to clap an embargo on Australian wheat?”
+
+“Why, I didn't know,” Redell confessed. “I just guessed it would; so
+I advised Ford than I did--and I made a trifle more than twenty-four
+thousand dollars.”
+
+“Is that so? Well, listen to me tell it; When you and I cashed in that
+day our deal was closed wasn't it?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And I'd played fair with you?”
+
+“You certainly did, Gus.”
+
+“Then I was freed from any further obligations to take you into
+partnership with me, was I not?”
+
+“That's how I figure it, my boy.”
+
+“That's how I figured it also, Cappy. Consequently, being morally
+certain that the British Government would place an embargo on the
+exportation of Australian wheat--Cappy, you must admit that the British
+Government would have been absolutely crazy if it hadn't--I just called
+on Gregg & Co. and bought another half million bushels of December wheat
+at $1.83 to $1.84 a bushel. Then I sat tight and waited for that embargo
+story to break. Cappy, do you know that story just raised hell on the
+Chicago Pit today? The bears were caught napping; and the bulls got busy
+and kicked the price up to $1.90 again, at which figure I unloaded and
+took my profit.”
+
+“You amazing rascal! Why didn't you tip your partner off to that deal?”
+
+“We were no longer partners. You admitted that a moment ago. When I
+first outlined this scheme I didn't have a dollar to spare with which I
+could speculate. Every last cent was tied up in the business of the
+West Coast Trading Company. So I schemed to take you in as a partner on
+one-half of the deal; and you not only financed me but guaranteed me to
+the broker! Your introduction was all I wanted. After that my credit
+was as good as December wheat; in consequence of which, without a cent
+invested, I was actually enabled to carry a trade for half a million
+bushels! Much obliged to you, Cappy. You're a fine old sport, and I
+like you--I wouldn't be surprised if you laid off on me after this--eh,
+Cappy?”
+
+“Gus,” said Cappy Ricks, “one of these days the Democratic party is
+going to wake up and discover that America isn't where they left it the
+night before! And when that happens they're going to ask you about it,
+you--you--infer-nal--”
+
+The phone clicked. J. Augustus Redell had hung up.
+
+“Drat it!--God bless him!” murmured Cappy Ricks--and hung up, too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+
+Whenever Cappy Ricks made up his mind that his Blue Star Navigation
+Company ought to add another vessel to its rapidly growing fleet, he
+preferred to build her; for a few bitter experiences early in life
+had convinced him that the man who buys the other fellow's ship
+quite frequently is given a bonus in the shape of the other fellow's
+troubles--troubles which have the unhappy faculty of tilting the
+profit-and-loss account over into the red-ink figures. In order to avoid
+these troubles, therefore, Cappy would summon his naval architect, whom
+he would practically drive to distraction by fussing over the plans
+submitted before giving a final grudging acceptance. The blue prints
+approved, Cappy would spend a week picking holes in the specifications,
+and when there was no more fault to find Mr. Skinner, his general
+manager and the president of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, would
+send a list of the timbers, planking, and so on required, to one of
+Cappy's sawmills in Washington; for Cappy had a theory--the good
+Lord knows why or where acquired--that Douglas fir from the state of
+Washington was better for shipbuilding purposes than Douglas fir grown
+in Oregon. Perhaps he figured that the Columbia River, which separates
+the two states, made a difference in grade.
+
+The woods boss would then be adjured to select his trees with great
+care. No tree would do that sprouted a limb within eighty feet of the
+butt, and the butt had to be at least six feet in diameter, in order
+that it might produce fine, clear, long-length planks that would not
+contain “heart” timber--the heart of a log having a tendency to check
+or split when seasoned. When the material was sawed a Blue Star steam
+schooner would transport it to San Francisco Bay, and it would be stored
+in Cappy's retail lumber yard in Oakland, to be seasoned and air-dried;
+following which Cappy Ricks would let the contract for the building of
+the vessel to a shipyard on Oakland Estuary, and sell the builder this
+seasoned stock at the price of rough green material, even though it was
+worth two dollars a thousand extra--not to mention the additional value
+for the extra-long lengths furnished specially. Cappy's ancestors, back
+in Maine, had built too many ships to have failed to impress upon
+him the wisdom of this course; for, on this point at least, initial
+extravagance inevitably develops into ultimate economy.
+
+Following the laying of the keel, Cappy would come out of retirement and
+become an extremely busy man. He had the vessel's engines to consider;
+and for two weeks his private office would resound with the arguments
+and recriminations of Cappy and his port engineer. There would be
+much talk of pistons, displacement of cylinders, stroke, reciprocating
+engines, steeple compound and triple-expansion engines, Scotch boilers,
+winches, compressors, dynamos, composition and iron propellers and the
+latest developments in crude-oil burners. And on the day when the port
+engineer, grown desperate because of the old man's opposition to some
+detail, would fly into a rage and resign, Cappy would know that, at
+last, everything was all right; whereupon he would scornfully reject
+the resignation and take his port engineer to luncheon at the Commercial
+Club, just to show he wasn't harboring a grudge.
+
+In the meantime the port captain would be making daily visits to the
+shipyard to make certain that the builder was holding rigidly to the
+specifications and not trying to skimp here and there; and on Saturdays
+Cappy would accompany him and satisfy himself that the port captain
+wasn't being imposed upon. Finally the ship would be launched; and as
+she slid down the ways Cappy Ricks would be standing on her forecastle
+head, his old heart fluttering in his thirty-six-inch chest and his
+coat-tails fluttering in the breeze, one arm round the port captain and
+the other round the port engineer. As the hull slipped into the drink he
+would say:
+
+“Boys, this is the life! I love it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,
+there's more romance in ships than you'll find in most married lives!”
+ Then he would wave an arm up Oakland Estuary, which prior to the great
+war was the graveyard of Pacific Coast shipping, and say with great
+pride: “Well, we've done a good job on this craft, boys; she'll never
+end in Rotten Row! Every sliver in her is air-dried and seasoned. That's
+the stuff! Build 'em of unseasoned material and dry rot develops the
+first year; in five years they're punk inside, and then--some fine day
+they're posted as missing at Lloyd's. Did you ever see a Blue Star ship
+lying in Rotten Row? No; you bet you didn't--and you never will! I never
+built a cheap boat and I never ran 'em cheap. By gravy, the Blue Star
+ships are like the Blue Nose that owns 'em! They'll be found dead on the
+job!”
+
+Quite early in 1915 the Blue Star Navigation Company had found ample
+opportunity, due to a world scarcity of tonnage, to dispose of several
+of their oldest and smallest steam schooners at unbelievably fine
+prices.
+
+“Get rid of them, Matt,” Cappy advised his son-in-law, Captain Matt
+Peasley, whom he had made president of the company. “You have the
+permission of the president emeritus to go as far as you like. Big boats
+for us from now on, boy. Slip the little ones while the slipping is
+good. These high prices will not prevail very long--only while the
+war continues; and at the rate they're slaughtering each other over
+in France the war will be over in six months; then prices will fall
+kerflump! Then we'll build a couple of real steamers.”
+
+So Matt Peasley promptly sold five steam schooners, following which he
+made up his mind that the world still had two years of war ahead of
+it. Accordingly he urged the letting of contracts for two
+seven-thousand-five-hundred-ton steel freighters immediately.
+
+“Nothing doing!” Cappy declared. “Why, it's rank nonsense to think of
+building now at wartime prices. If our recent sales have pinched us for
+tonnage we'll have to charter from our neighbors and worry along as best
+we can until the war is over.”
+
+“You're making a mistake, Cappy Ricks,” his son-in-law warned him.
+
+“Ask Skinner if I am. Skinner, let's have your opinion.”
+
+Mr. Skinner, always cautious and ultra-conservative promptly advised
+against Matt Peasley's course; but Matt would not be downed without a
+fight.
+
+“I know prices for ship construction are fearfully high just now,” he
+admitted; “but--mark my words!--they're going to double; and if we
+place our contracts now, while we have an opportunity to do so, we'll
+be getting in on the ground floor. I tell you that war hasn't really
+started yet; and the longer it continues the higher will prices on all
+commodities soar--but principally on ship construction. Father-in-law, I
+beg of you to let me get busy and build. Suppose the boats do cost us a
+quarter of a million dollars more each than we could have built them
+for in 1914. What of it? We have the money--and if we didn't have it we
+could borrow it. I don't care what a ship costs me when freight rates
+are soaring to meet the advance in construction costs.”
+
+Nevertheless, Cappy and Mr. Skinner hooted him down. Three months later,
+however, when Cappy Ricks had changed his mind, and Mr. Skinner was too
+heartbroken to curse himself for a purblind idiot, it was too late to
+place the contracts. Every shipyard in the United States and abroad was
+loaded up with building orders for three years in advance, and the Blue
+Star Navigation Company was left to twiddle its corporate thumbs. Matt
+Peasley was so angry that he almost speculated on the delight of being
+at sea again, in command of a square rigger, with Cappy Ricks and Mr.
+Skinner signed on as A.B.'s; in which condition of servitude he might
+dare to call them aft and knock their heads together. However, he
+managed to have his revenge. Every time nitrate freights went up a
+dollar a ton he told them about it with great gusto, and the day he
+chartered the _Tillicum_ for Vladivostok, with steel for the Russian
+Government at seventy-five dollars a ton, he had poor Cappy moaning in
+his wretchedness.
+
+“Just think how nice it would be,” he taunted his aged relative, “if
+we had only placed contracts for two big boats when I urged it. By the
+middle of summer I'd have them both on the Vladivostok run--perhaps at a
+hundred dollars a ton; and long before the war is over you could do what
+you've been trying to do for the past ten years.”
+
+“Do what?” Cappy queried.
+
+“Retire!” Matt retorted meaningly.
+
+“In-fernal young scoundrel!” Cappy was angry enough to commit murder.
+“Out of my office!” he shrilled, and pointed to the door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+
+For once in his busy life it was, figuratively speaking, raining duck
+soup, and poor Cappy was there with a fork! When he had recovered his
+composure he sent for Matt Peasley.
+
+“Matt, my dear boy,” he confessed miserably, “this is certainly one
+occasion upon which father appears to have overlooked his hand. However,
+none of us is perfect; and if we're caught out without an umbrella, so
+to speak--”
+
+“We?” Matt reminded him witheringly. “Cappy, it's all right to use
+that 'we' stuff when you're talking to Skinner, but trot out the
+perpendicular pronoun when you're talking to me. I hate to say 'I told
+you so'; but--”
+
+“Lay off me!” Cappy pleaded. “I'm an old man, Matt; so be easy on me.
+Besides, I don't make a mistake very often, and you know it.”
+
+“I do know it. But when you blocked me on that building scheme you
+certainly made up for lost time. Really, Cappy, you mustn't make me play
+so close to my vest in these brisk times. If I'm to manage the Blue Star
+Navigation Company I mustn't have my ideas pooh-poohed as if I were a
+hare-brained child.”
+
+“I know, Matt; I know. But I built up the Blue Star Navigation Company
+and the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company by playing 'em close, and it's a
+hard habit to break.
+
+“However, let us forget the past and look forward with confidence to
+the future. Matt, my dear boy, since we cannot get a shipyard to build
+a steamer for us, I'm going to break a rule of forty years' standing
+and buy one in the open market. I guess that'll prove to you I'm not so
+hide-bound with conservatism as you think. Go forth into the highways
+and the byways, Matt, and see what they have for sale.”
+
+“How high do you want me to go?”
+
+“As high as they hung Haman--if you find it necessary.”
+
+“That's certainly a free hand; but I'm afraid it comes too late. I
+doubt if there is an owner with the kind of steamer we want who is crazy
+enough to sell her.”
+
+“Tish! Tush! All things are for sale all the time. Scour the market,
+Matt, and you'll find Cappy Ricks isn't the only damned fool left in the
+shipping business. My boy, you'd be surprised at the number of so-called
+business men who are entirely devoid of imagination. Dozens of them
+still think the war will end this fall, but I'm willing to make a
+healthy bet that the fall of 1917 still finds them going to it to beat
+four of a kind.”
+
+“You said something that time, father-in-law,” Matt replied laughingly.
+
+Then he roughed the old man affectionately and went forth into
+California Street, where he wore out much shoe leather before he
+located what he considered a bargain and reported back to the president
+emeritus.
+
+“You're right, Cappy!” he declared. “You aren't the only boob in the
+shipping business. I've located another.”
+
+“That's what you get by taking father's advice,” Gappy retorted proudly.
+“Have you bought a steamer?”
+
+“No; but I'm going to buy one this afternoon. She's going to cost us
+half a million dollars, cash on the nail, and I have an option on her at
+that figure until noon today. Skinner has a lot of lumber money he isn't
+using, and I'm going to borrow a quarter of a million from his company
+on the Blue Star note at six per cent. Don't want to run our own
+treasury too low.”
+
+“Dog-gone that Skinner! That's some more of his efficiency. I own both
+companies, and it's just like taking money out of one pocket and putting
+it into the other; but Skinner's a bug on system. Just think of making
+me pay myself six per cent interest! However, I suppose we must have
+some kind of order. What's the name of the steamer?”
+
+“The _Penelope_.”
+
+Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair, placed one hand on each
+knee, and appraisingly eyed his son-in-law over the rims of his glasses.
+
+“Say that again, Matt--and say it slow,” he ordered.
+
+“I said _Penelope--P-e-n-e-l-o-p-e_. Maybe you call her the
+_Pen-elope!_”
+
+“Are you buying her as is?” Matt nodded. “To hear you tell it, Matt, one
+might gather the impression that half a million dollars is about what
+we give the janitor at Christmas. Boy, half a million dollars is real
+money.”
+
+“Not in the shipping business these days, Cappy. Why, you have to wave
+that much under an owner's nose before he'll look up and show interest
+enough to ask you who you are and who let you in.”
+
+“Well, the man who would, in cold blood, consider paying half a million
+dollars for the _Penelope_ is certainly ripe for a padded cell,” Cappy
+jeered. “That fellow Hudner, of the Black Butte Lumber Company, owns
+her, does he not?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Then you know exactly the condition she's in. I'll bet a cooky her
+bottom plates are rusted so thin from lack of an occasional coat of red
+paint that if you were to stand on her bridge and toss a tack
+hammer down her main hatch you'd punch a hole in her. She's a long,
+narrow-gutted, cranky coffin--that's what she is; and the worst-found
+ship in Pacific waters. Why, let me tell you something, young man: she
+can't get by the inspectors this minute.”
+
+“She has just gotten by them,” Matt contradicted. “Passed yesterday.”
+
+“What does that signify? When her skipper has her up for inspection he
+scours the water front like a hungry dog, borrowing a boathook here, a
+sound life-boat there, some fire buckets elsewhere, a hose from the fire
+tug, and a lot of engine-room tools wherever he can get them. As for
+life preservers, he rents them for ten cents each from a marine junk
+dealer. So, when the inspectors arrive, the _Penelope_ is a well-found
+ship; as soon as they pass her the skipper returns the equipment, with
+thanks. As for paint--why, the only painting she ever gets is when
+Hudner lays her alongside some British ship to discharge a foreign cargo
+of lumber into the lime-juicer; then her mate steals all the paint
+in the Britisher's lazaret. The poor, unfortunate devil! He has to do
+something to make a showing with the _Penelope's_ owner! I tell you,
+Matt, I know this man Hudner! He's as thrifty as an Armenian and as
+slippery as a skating rink. He's laying to stab you, boy. Mind your
+step!”
+
+“Even so, Cappy, she's a bargain. I expect to spend fifty thousand
+dollars putting her in first-class condition after we get her.”
+
+“You expect to spend it! Why, how you talk! Hudner is the one that
+should spend that money. For the love of trade, what is he selling you?
+A ship or a hulk?”
+
+“I don't care what she is; we can make her pay for herself and earn half
+a million or a million extra before this war ends. And she won't be such
+a bad vessel after she's shipped a couple of new plates. She has a dead
+weight capacity for six thousand tons and was built at Sunderland in
+1902. When she went ashore off Point Sur, in 1909, Hudner bought her
+from the underwriters for five thousand dollars and spent more than half
+her original cost repairing her. That, of course, made her tantamount to
+a ship built in the United States, and under American registry she can
+run between American ports. And that's what we want. She'll be just the
+thing to carry lumber to New York, via the Canal, when the war ends and
+the nitrate harvest is over.”
+
+Cappy Ricks threw up his hands.
+
+“You see before you, my boy,” he said mournfully, “a dollar-burdened,
+world-weary old man, who for ten years has been trying to retire from
+active business, and cannot. The reason is he dassent; if he dassed,
+this shebang would be in the hands of the sheriff within a year. Now,
+listen, young feller! I know all about the _Penelope_. Before the war
+she had repaid Hudner, with interest, every cent she cost him, and since
+the war I suppose she's made half a million dollars. Now when Hudner
+finds he has to spend a lot of money fixing her up, he figures it's best
+to get rid of her and saddle somebody else with the bill. Her intrinsic
+value is just about one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, and
+when Hudner asks half a million for her he expects to get four hundred
+and fifty thousand. In order to play safe, go back and offer him four
+hundred thousand dollars; presently he'll come down fifty thousand and
+you'll come up fifty thousand, and the trade will be closed on that
+basis. Meantime I'll sit here and weep as I reflect on the cost of
+putting that ruin in fit shape to receive a Blue Star house flag. I tell
+you, Matt, I wouldn't send Pancho Villa to sea in her as she is now.”
+
+Matt Peasley, like Cappy Ricks, was a Yankee; when he did business he
+liked to chaffer; and, after all--he thought--there was a certain shrewd
+philosophy in what his foxy father-in-law had said. At least Cappy had
+supplied him with ammunition for argument; so he went back to Hudner's
+office and argued and pleaded and ridiculed, but all to no avail. He
+returned to Cappy Ricks' office.
+
+“I fought him all over his office,” he complained, “but he wouldn't
+come down a cent. I think we'd better take a chance and give him half a
+million.”
+
+“Fiddlesticks! Stay with him, Matt. I know Hudner. He acts like he's
+full of bellicose veins, but anybody can outgame him. Let your option
+expire; then to-morrow meet him accidentally on 'Change and talk with
+him half an hour about everything on earth except the S. S. _Penelope_.
+Just before you leave him he'll grab you by the lapel of your coat and
+ask if you're still interested in the _Penelope_. Then you say: 'Why,
+yes--moderately; but not at half a million.' Then you make him a firm
+offer--for the last time--of four hundred and fifty thousand dollars;
+and he'll say: 'I'll split the difference with you'--and before he can
+crawfish you accept. You're bound to make at least twenty-five thousand
+by following my advice, Matt.”
+
+Matt Peasley ran his big hand through his thick black locks.
+
+“By jingo,” he declared, “we'd make twenty-five thousand dollars while
+we're dickering with Hudner!”
+
+“I know, my boy; but then I don't like Hudner, and it's awful to do
+business with a son of a horsethief you don't like and let him put one
+over on you. That's the thrill of doing business, Matt. Though I'd hate
+to have anybody think I'm in business for fun, still, if I thought
+I couldn't get some fun out of business I'd go right down to Mission
+Street Wharf and end all.”
+
+“Nitrate freights are up to thirty dollars a ton,” said Matt later that
+day. “They were twelve a year and a half ago. Cappy, we can't risk the
+delay; and I'm sorry I took your advice and let my option expire. I
+insist on buying.” He reached for Cappy's desk 'phone. “I'm going to
+tell Hudner to prepare the bill of sale--that I'll be up in fifteen
+minutes with the check. He who hesitates is lost, and--”
+
+The door opened and a youth stood in the entrance.
+
+“Mr. J. O. Heyfuss is calling,” he announced.
+
+“Show him in immediately,” Cappy ordered, glad of the opportunity to
+delay Matt's telephonic acceptance of the vessel at Hudner's price.
+“Hold on a minute, Matt,” he continued, turning to his son-in-law.
+“Heyfuss is a ship broker; maybe he has a ship to sell us; she might
+prove to be a better buy than the _Penelope_... Howdy, Heyfuss? Come in
+and sit down.”
+
+Mr. Heyfuss entered smilingly, saluted both satellites of the Blue Star
+and sat down.
+
+“Well, gentlemen,” he announced, “wonders will never cease. Every day
+I'm seeing, hearing and doing wonderful things in the shipping business.
+Day before yesterday I bought the old barkentine _Mayfair_. She'd been
+laid up in Rotten Row for seven years, and for at least four years the
+tide has been rising and falling inside her. She cost me seven hundred
+and fifty dollars, and I sold her the same afternoon to Al Hanify for
+a thousand. Not very much of a profit; but then it was Saturday and
+everybody closes up shop at noon, you know. So I felt the day wasn't a
+blank, anyhow.
+
+“And what do you suppose Al did? You'll laugh. He called up Crowley her
+out on Hanlon's Marine Way, putting a new bottom in her. They're going
+to spend twenty thousand dollars on her; and when she's ready for sea
+Redell has a cargo of fir for Sydney waiting for her.
+
+“She'll come back with coal and make her owners at least fifty thousand
+dollars.”
+
+“That's all very interesting to outsiders, but commonplace stuff to us,”
+ Cappy reminded his visitor. “Have you got a commission to sell a ship
+for somebody?”
+
+“Want one?”
+
+“Surest thing you know!”
+
+“All right. I'll sell you the _Alden Besse_. She's an old tea clipper,
+built in the forties; but she's sound and tight. Been a motion picture
+ship for the past five years. I can deliver her to you for forty
+thousand dollars.”
+
+“No, you'll not. I sold her to the motion picture people for fifteen
+hundred,” Cappy countered, “and I don't want her back at any price.
+I send my boys to sea to earn a safe living, not to visit Davy Jones'
+locker.”
+
+“Well, I think I might get you the old Australian prison ship,
+_Success_. She was built at Rangoon in 1790, of teak, and will last
+forever. Perhaps you saw her when she was exhibited at the Exposition
+last year. Might get her for you kind of cheap.”
+
+“Nothing doing. Heyfuss, we want a steamer.”
+
+“Sorry, but I haven't a thing in steamers. Just sold the last one I had
+ten minutes ago--the _Penelope_.”
+
+“The what!” Matt Peasley and Cappy cried in chorus.
+
+“The _Penelope_. Sold her to a big Eastern powder company. She goes into
+the nitrate trade, of course. These munition manufacturers must have
+powder, and to get powder they must have nitrate, and to get nitrate
+they must have ships, and to get ships they must pay the price. I got
+Hudner a million dollars for that ruin of a _Penelope._”
+
+Matt Peasley gently seized J. O. Heyfuss by the ear and led him to the
+door.
+
+“Out, thief!” he cried. “You can't sell us anything; so we don't want
+you hanging round this office. You might steal the safe or a roll-top
+desk, or something.”
+
+Heyfuss departed, laughing good-naturedly, and Matt Peasley turned to
+confront Cappy Ricks. The latter had shrunk up in his chair and was
+looking as chopfallen and guilty as a dog caught sucking eggs. He
+favored his big son-in-law with a quick, shifty glance, and then looked
+down at the carpet.
+
+Matt folded his arms and stared at him until he looked up.
+
+“Don't you go to pick on me!” he warned Matt furiously. “I'll not be
+picked on in my own office, even by a relative.”
+
+Matt threw back his head and chanted,
+
+
+   _“There was I, waiting at the church,
+    Waiting at the church--“_
+
+“I was right!” Cappy shrilled. “My mode of procedure was without a
+flaw.”
+
+“Absolutely! The operation was a success, but the patient died.”
+
+“But a feller just has to haggle!” Cappy wailed. He was almost on the
+verge of tears. “It's the basic principle of all trading. Why, I've made
+my everlasting fortune by haggling. Drat your picture, don't you
+know that the very pillars of financial success rest on
+counter-propositions?”
+
+“Listen, relative, listen: I haven't said a word to you, have I?” Matt
+replied.
+
+“No; but you looked it, and I'll not be looked at.”
+
+“All right, Cappy, I'll not look. But I can't help thinking.”
+
+“Thinking what?”
+
+“That it's about time you quit talking about retiring--and retired!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+
+With this Parthian shot Matt himself retired, leaving Cappy to shiver
+and bow his head on his breast; in which position he remained motionless
+for fully an hour.
+
+“I guess the boy's right,” he soliloquized finally. “I think I'd better
+retire, after pulling that kind of a deal twice in the same place. The
+pace is getting too swift for me, I think; I can't keep up... Well, I
+guess they've got the goods on me this time. Matt was certainly on the
+job twice, and I blocked him both times ... Oh, Lord! I'll never hear
+the last of this... By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I've lost my punch!
+Matt didn't say so; but he thinks it. And I don't blame him a bit.”
+
+The door of Cappy's office opened and again the youth stood in the
+entrance. “Mr. Redell is calling; there's a gentleman with him,” he
+announced.
+
+“Tell 'em I'm busier'n a cranberry merchant,” Cappy snarled. “And unless
+you're figuring on hunting a new job, my son, don't you come in here
+again today.”
+
+The youth retired. However, he knew from experience that Cappy Ricks
+never discharged anybody save for insubordination or rank incompetence;
+hence, he did not hesitate to disobey the old gentleman's edict.
+
+“Mr. Redell says his business is very important,” he announced,
+presenting himself once more at the door.
+
+“All right! No rest for the weary. Show them in.”
+
+J. Augustus Redell entered, accompanied by no less a personage than the
+British Consul. Cappy greeted them without enthusiasm and bade them be
+seated.
+
+“Well,” J. Augustus Redell announced cheerily, “It's plain to be seen
+that Little Sunshine hasn't been round this office recently.”
+
+Cappy grunted.
+
+“What's gone wrong, Cappy?”
+
+“Everything! Been going wrong for years and I never realized it until
+this afternoon. Ah, Gus, my dear young friend, how I envy you your
+youth, your capacity to think, your golden dreams, your boundless
+energy, your ability to make two-dollar bills grow where one-dollar
+bills grew before, thus making an apparently barren prospect as verdant
+as a meadow in spring. But make the most of your opportunity, young
+feller! The day will come to you, as it has come to me, when everything
+you do will be done twenty minutes too late; when every dollar you make
+will be subject to a cash discount of one hundred per cent; when every
+competitor you held cheap will suddenly develop the luck of the devil,
+the brains of a Demosthenes, and the courage of a hog going to war.”
+
+“I should judge that you have recently suffered a great bereavement.”
+
+“I have, Augustus, I have. Through my indecision I have just lost a
+bank roll a greyhound couldn't have jumped over. Suppose it was a paper
+profit? I grieve just the same.”
+
+“Forget it, Cappy! Life is real, life is earnest, and you have a bank
+roll of real profits a giraffe couldn't reach the top of.”
+
+“Oh, it isn't the money, Gus. Money is only a vulgar symbol of my
+bereavement. The trouble is--I've lost my punch! I can't think, Gus; I
+can't act promptly. I'm out of touch with my times. I remind myself of
+nothing so much as the old rooster that suddenly discovered he had been
+elected to furnish the dinner the following Sunday. His hens cackled and
+called to him that they had found some worms, but he wouldn't pay
+any attention to them; just leaned up against the wire netting in the
+poultry yard and said to himself: 'Oh, hell! What's the use? Today an
+egg--tomorrow a feather duster!'”
+
+“Don't be pessimistic, Cappy. Don't! It doesn't become you, and I don't
+believe a word you're telling me. You're still the old he-fox of the
+world; and I've come to you for help on a deal that's going to mean a
+whole lot of money to both of us if we can only put it through.”
+
+“I'm sorry, Gus, but I'm not interested. As a matter of fact, I've
+retired.”
+
+“Nonsense! Nonsense! I know where there's a beautiful ten-thousand-ton,
+net register, steel steamer to be bought for three hundred thousand
+dollars--”
+
+Cappy Ricks threw out an arm and pressed his hand against Redell's
+mouth.
+
+“Sh-h-h!” he warned. “Sh-h-h! Hush!”
+
+With the agility of a man half his age Cappy ran to the door, bolted it
+on the inside and returned to his desk. He was rubbing his hands and his
+eyes were aglow with interest.
+
+“What are you sh-h-h-ing about?” Redell demanded.
+
+“Matt Peasley and that cowardly Skinner. Not a word of this to them,
+Gus! Not--a--whisper!” And he winked one eye and twisted up the corner
+of his mouth knowingly. Mr. Redell nodded his promise and Cappy went on:
+“Now Gus, my dear young friend, start in at the beginning and tell me
+everything. I assume, of course, that this is real business and not
+another of your jokes on the old man. Word of honor, Gus?”
+
+“Word of honor, Cappy.”
+
+“All right; blaze away! Come, come! What have you got to offer?”
+
+“I have a condition and I offer you a half interest in it if you can
+suggest a plan to circumvent His Royal Highness, Kaiser Wilhelm--”
+
+“Hum-m-m! Enough!” Cappy interrupted, and turned to the British
+Consul: “This is an international affair, eh? See if I don't state
+the proposition in a nutshell--if I may be pardoned the bromide.
+This steamer is a German, and the proposition is to get her under the
+American flag so firmly that she'll stay there; then, I suppose,
+we're to charter her to the British Government, or one of Britain's
+allies--Russia, for instance.”
+
+J. Augustus Redell and the British Consul exchanged admiring winks.
+
+“What did I tell you, Mister Consul?” Redell declared triumphantly. “Mr.
+Ricks knows the story before we have told it. And yet he's complaining
+about the loss of his punch!”
+
+Cappy looked slightly self-conscious; it was plain the compliment
+pleased him.
+
+“Well, Gus, my boy,” he answered, “I have lost my punch, though at that
+I'm not exactly a pork-and-beaner. Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! This must
+be a hard order to fill. Mister Consul, when Gus Redell has to come
+to me for help. That son of a gun can move faster and go through more
+obstacles than quicksilver. Gus, what's gone wrong with you? Have you
+lost your punch too? And at your age?”
+
+“Looks like it, Cappy. I've thought and thought until I'm desperate, and
+not an idea worth while has presented itself. That's why I've come to
+you.”
+
+“Well, I don't guarantee a cure, my boy. But I'll say this much: If you
+and I can't put this thing over, then it just isn't put-overable. Fire
+away, Gus!”
+
+“Have you ever heard of the steamer _Bavarian?”_
+
+“Of course! She belongs to Adolph Koenitz and flies the German flag.
+Since the war started she's been interned down in Mission Bay.”
+
+Redell nodded.
+
+“Adolph Koenitz never became an American citizen, despite the fact that
+he had lived in San Francisco twenty years and operated three steamers
+out of this port. He was a reserve officer in the German Navy; and when
+the war broke out he interned his ships, placed his entire estate in his
+wife's name and reported for duty. He perished in the Battle of Jutland,
+both his boys were killed at Verdun, and now his widow would like to
+sell the _Bavarian_ and get some cash. She had a large income from an
+estate in Germany, but the war cut that off.
+
+“Also, it appears that Koenitz was rather heavily involved, and the
+expense of maintaining those interned steamers, with their German crews
+aboard, has his widow badly worried; in fact, she has reached the point
+where she finds it necessary to sell one of the steamers in order to
+hang on to the other two. She has tried to raise a mortgage on the
+_Bavarian_, but nobody cares to loan money on an interned German
+steamer.”
+
+“Naturally,” Cappy replied sarcastically. “And I'm amazed that you
+should consider me boob enough to consider seriously buying the same
+steamer outright! Gus, I'd have about as much use for that steamer as
+I would have for a tail. Even if I should buy her now, and not use her
+until the war is over, I should be risking my money; for the German
+Government, if you remember, issued an order in 1915 forbidding its
+subjects to sell their interned ships without the consent of the said
+government. And, even if Mrs. Koenitz can procure the Kaiser's consent,
+I fail to see the wisdom of tying up three hundred thousand dollars in
+an idle investment.”
+
+“Ah, but under those circumstances she wouldn't be an idle investment.”
+
+“Yes, she would, my boy. Great Britain issued an Order in Council in
+1914 notifying all neutral nations that she would not sanction the
+transfer of registry of any German vessel. A few daring devils took a
+chance--and what happened? The British Navy overhauled the ships at
+sea and took them into a British port where a British prize court
+confiscated them. There is the case of the _Mazatlan_, for instance. She
+was German owned and flew the German flag; her owner put her under the
+Mexican flag, and subsequently she was sold at a bargain to one of our
+neighbors, who put her under American registry. Do you know where the
+_Mazatlan_ is now? Well, I'll tell you: She's freighting war munitions
+for Johnny Bull--and our optimistic neighbor isn't collecting the
+freight money either.”
+
+“Quite true, Mr. Ricks; quite true--in ordinary cases,” the Consul told
+him smilingly.
+
+“By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! I smell a mouse. Hum-m-m! That
+simplifies matters. We-l-l! If you are in position, Mister Consul, to
+give me your word of honor as a gentleman and an officer of your king
+that the British Navy will turn its blind side to the _Bavarian_ when
+she puts to sea, I'll buy the _Bavarian_ so fast it'll make your head
+swim. In return for this favor, of course, I am to charter the ship at
+the going rates to--”
+
+“Our ally, the Russian Government, Mr. Ricks. And you have my word of
+honor, which is all I can give you; for a deal like this, as you know,
+cannot be made in writing. I have had the matter up with the Admiralty,
+however, and permission has been granted me to give the verbal assurance
+of my government.”
+
+“I'll make a finger bet with your government, Mister Consul. As for
+Kaiser Bill's consent to the transfer--_heraus mit 'em!_ We'll get along
+without that. Wilhelm doesn't cut much ice with me these days and I'm
+willing to wager the price of the _Bavarian_ that such ice as he does
+cut will blame soon melt. Gus, you say Mrs. Koenitz wants to sell?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And she doesn't care who buys?”
+
+“Not a particle! She's sore on the Kaiser; it's been thumbs down on
+Wilhelm ever since Adolph and the boys lost the number of their mess.
+She says to me: 'Herr Riddle, dot Kaiser orders war like I order beer!'
+However, there's an 'if' to the transfer. While we know the British
+Navy will not bother us should we buy the steamer, still enthusiastic
+Britishers all over the world will have their eyes on the _Bavarian_
+and clamor for her capture. Great Britain cannot publicly--or, at least,
+obviously--make any exceptions to her Order in Council, and we'll have
+to mess up that steamer's title and nativity to save John Bull's social
+standing. We must make a bluff at deceiving him. If we can show some
+sort of legal transfer to another flag J. B. can play blindman's buff
+with dignity and honor; otherwise nix!”
+
+Cappy Ricks' eyes sought the ceiling.
+
+“What have I done to deserve this?” he demanded of an invisible
+Presence. “Why am I afflicted thus? Job had his boils; but you and I,
+Augustus, are covered with a financial rash, bleeding at every pore, and
+with no relief in sight.”
+
+“I told you this was a tough one, Cappy. I've pondered the situation
+until my brain is addled like a last year's nest egg, and finally I've
+come to you as a last resort. If you can't cook up an airtight scheme,
+then there is no help; and I'm going to forget the _Bavarian_ and attend
+to some business more profitable and less debilitating.”
+
+“There must be an out, Gus. It's too good a thing to abandon. Suppose
+you and the Consul go away and give me time to concentrate my thoughts
+on this problem. It's a holy terror; but--Well, I've seen dogs almost as
+sick as this one cured.”
+
+“God bless you!” Mr. Redell murmured fervently. “Consul, let us depart
+and leave Mr. Ricks to himself. Call me up, Cappy, when you see a ray of
+light. Two heads are better than one, you know.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+
+When his visitors had gone Cappy Ricks gave orders that he was not to be
+disturbed on any pretext whatever. Then he locked himself in, swung his
+legs to the top of his desk, slid low in his chair until he rested on
+his spine, bowed his head on his breast and closed his eyes. The battle
+was on.
+
+One hour later J. Augustus Redell entered breathlessly in response to a
+telephonic invitation from Cappy.
+
+“Gus,” the latter began, “am I right in assuming that you possess a
+reasonable amount of influence with that hair-trigger partner of yours,
+Live Wire Luiz?” Redell nodded. “And is Luiz absolutely trustworthy?
+Will he stay put and keep his mouth closed?”
+
+“He is my partner, Cappy. He's mercurial, but a gentleman. I'd trust him
+with my life, and I always trust him with my bank roll. He requires no
+watching.”
+
+“Good! Gus, send Live Wire Luiz down to Guaymas and have him incorporate
+the North and South American Steamship Company there, under the
+extremely flexible and evershifting laws of the Republic of Mexico. Luiz
+is a Peruvian and speaks Spanish, and knows the Mexican temperament. He
+can easily procure three Mexicans to act as a dummy board of directors;
+his own name, of course, for obvious reasons, must never appear in
+connection with this company. A thousand dollars ought to cover this
+Mexican expense.”
+
+“Consider that point attended to, Cappy.”
+
+“Fine! Now then, when this corporate vehicle is in running order and has
+opened an office in Guaymas, Live Wire Luiz will write your company, The
+West Coast Trading Company, saying that his company has been referred to
+you by some mutual friends in Guaymas. Of course Luiz doesn't sign this
+letter. It is signed by the North and South American Steamship Company,
+per the dummy secretary or president. The letter goes on to say that
+the latter company is in the market for a steamer, the general
+specifications of which, singularly enough, fit the _Bavarian._ The
+vessel is to be used for transporting troops up and down the west coast
+of Mexico and for freighting munitions from Japan; and in a delicate
+way it might be hinted that the de facto Mexican Government is the
+real buyer. A commission of five per cent is offered you for buying the
+vessel for them, said commission to be split fifty-fifty with the North
+and South American Steamship Company; this being the Mexican way of
+doing business, as you know.”
+
+“Consider that matter attended to also. I'll write the letter myself
+before Luiz starts for Guaymas, so I'll be certain the job will be done
+exactly right.”
+
+“As soon as you receive this letter you get busy and wire the North
+and South American Steamship Company that you have just the vessel they
+want, price three hundred thousand dollars. Live Wire Luiz will then
+cause a reply to that telegram to be sent, advising you that his clients
+would not balk at paying half a million! That, of course, is hint enough
+for you. Right away you see the old Mexican graft sticking out, and
+you say to yourself, 'Why not?' And you do! You reply to that telegram,
+saying you erred when naming the price in your first telegram; that it
+is five hundred thousand instead of three. Then you come down to me and
+I hand you three hundred thousand dollars in currency; for in such a
+transaction as this, checks, with their indorsements, provide a trail
+that may prove embarrassing. You take that money and deposit it in
+escrow in any local bank against a bill of sale of the _Bavarian_ from
+Mrs. Koenitz to the North and South American Steamship Company, of
+Guaymas, Mexico. Before doing so, however, have Mrs. Koenitz place
+the vessel under Mexican registry. She can do that through the Mexican
+Consul for the de facto government; and when the bill of sale is turned
+over to you, record it promptly with the Mexican Consul. Later you will
+record it in Mexico.
+
+“The vessel is now the property of the North and South American
+Steamship Company; and the North and South American Steamship Company
+is the property of Cappy Ricks and the West Coast Trading Company, per
+Senor Felipe Luiz Almeida. But we must never admit this. To have the
+North and South American Steamship Company transfer the vessel to us
+would be very coarse work indeed; so we must avoid that.”
+
+“How?”
+
+“I'll get to that presently. The steamer is now in our possession, and
+you will already have notified her German skipper and crew to hunt a
+new residence. You will then put an American skipper in charge and ship
+American engineers and a crew of parrakeets; and on the very day the
+sale is consummated, just before the customhouse closes, have the
+skipper clear the vessel for Guaymas and put to sea that night. Since
+she carries no cargo the collector of the port will not stop you; the
+risk of going to sea is all our own--if we care to take it.
+
+“The next day the newspaper boys will be hot on the trail. An interned
+German merchantman has suddenly transferred to Mexican registry and put
+to sea! Now! Inquiry at the customhouse and at the Mexican consulate
+shows that the vessel has been sold, and the trail leads straight to the
+office of the West Coast Trading Company. You are interviewed--and
+say nothing; and that day, when I appear on 'Change, these baffled
+journalists drive me into a corner and ask me what I think about it. And
+I'll tell them it's just another case of the lowly Mexican peon being
+hornswoggled by the foxy Americano. The Mexicans wanted a ship and asked
+the American to buy one for them. He did--only he forgot to tell them
+she was a German. She was such a good buy they snapped her up without
+asking questions, though in all probability the poor devils had no
+knowledge of Kaiser Wilhelm's edict that no German ships shall be sold
+without the consent of the German Government. I will say that it looks
+to me as if the ancient rule of _caveat emptor_ applied, and that the
+Mexicans are stung and have no comeback. Then, again, it may be a shrewd
+German trick to put something over.
+
+“Well, they make a snorting story out of what I give them; the frau's
+friends read it and think she's done something smart. Nobody feels
+sorry for a Mexican. Next morning you come out with a blast of righteous
+indignation and admit that you cannot or will not deny that the vessel
+was sold to parties representing the de facto Mexican Government. You
+deny, however, that you sold them a pig in a poke; and the papers print
+a copy of your letter to the North and South American Steamship Company
+specifically advising them that the vessel was a German and liable to
+prove an embarrassment. This, of course, clears you, and the blame for
+the graft is placed where it belongs--on the shoulders of the North and
+South American Steamship Company, which has deliberately stung the de
+facto government!”
+
+“Cappy,” said J. Augustus Redell admiringly, “you're immense!”
+
+“I accept the nomination. Upon her arrival in Guaymas the _Bavarian's_
+name is changed to _La Golondrina_, or _Sobre las Olas_, or _Manana_, or
+_Poco Tiempo_--whatever's right. I think we may safely gamble that she
+will arrive in Guaymas in the light of what the British Consul told us;
+and, in view of her departure unannounced, no British warship on the
+West Coast can get so far north as Guaymas in time to intercept her.
+
+“Well, having changed her name, she picks up a general cargo and comes
+back to San Francisco, where she goes on dry dock and is cleaned and
+painted, has her gear overhauled, fills up with fuel oil and stores,
+and--but that's enough. Now comes the blow-off.
+
+“Strange to relate, you haven't received a cent of that five-per-cent
+commission due you from the North and South American Steamship Company
+for buying the _Bavarian_ for them. The issue is in dispute. They claim
+you are not entitled to any commission, because you stung them with a
+German vessel; and you claim you told them she was a German, but that
+they needed her so badly they would take a chance. Also, the fact that
+she went to sea that time in such a hurry, and forgot to pay for her
+fuel oil and stores, looks rather suspicious; so, when the vessel comes
+off dry dock, with about ten thousand dollars' worth of bills against
+her, you decide to protect your claim for the commission--and, by the
+Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, Gus, you libel her! The news breaks into the
+papers, and next day every creditor of the ship files a libel on her,
+also, to protect his claim. Gus, she'll have so many plasters on her
+she'll look like a German coming home from the war.”
+
+J. Augustus Redell leaped from his chair and picked little Cappy Ricks
+up in his arms and hugged him.
+
+“Oh, Cappy! Cappy!” he yelled. “You're the shadow of a rock in a weary
+land--a cup of cool water in the suburbs of hell!”
+
+“Are you game?” Cappy gurgled.
+
+“Does a cat eat liver? Cappy, you've solved the problem! Naturally
+the North and South American Steamship Company does not directly or
+indirectly make any attempt to lift these libels and get the vessel to
+sea. Why? I'll tell you--or, rather, I'll tell the newspaper boys and
+they'll tell everybody. It will appear that as soon as the Mexican
+Consul here got an inkling of the apparent plan of the North and South
+American Steamship Company, of Guaymas, to sting Don Venustiano Carranza
+by slipping him a steamer with a clouded title, he must have wired Don
+Venustiano to round up the directors of the said company and give them
+the _ley fuga_. Fortunately for these culprits, however, they got next
+in time to get out from under. Mounting swift steeds, the entire board
+of directors fled north and east, never pausing until they had joined
+Pancho Villa; and we learn from some Border gossips that all three
+subsequently were killed in action. But, before leaving Guaymas, they
+left their tangled steamship affairs in the hands of their attorney--”
+
+“Nothing doing, Gus! They left their tangled steamship affairs in the
+hands of my attorney, and they gave him an absolute, ironclad, airtight
+power of attorney to sell the ship, receive and receipt for all money
+due the company, and so on, and so on, ad libitum, ad infinitum; said
+power of attorney being nonrevocable for five years.”
+
+“Great stuff! In due course the libelants sue in the United States
+District Court; your attorney appears for the defendants and confesses
+judgment, but pleads for a ten-day stay of execution until he can raise
+a mortgage on the vessel. But, strange to relate, the ten-day stay
+expires and the judgments against the steamer are not paid; so the judge
+of the United States District Court orders the steamer sold at public
+auction on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange to the highest bidder,
+to satisfy the claims of the creditors. Thirty days later the United
+States Marshal conducts the sale, and a gentleman named Cappy Ricks buys
+her in. The United States Marshal gives the said Ricks a bill of sale
+for her, which the said Ricks thereupon records in the United States
+Customhouse, and--”
+
+“_Und Hoch der Kaiser! Und Hoch der_ John J. Bull! We've finally got
+that clear American title we've been looking for. It makes no difference
+what the nationality of a vessel is; the minute she enters the
+territorial waters of the United States of America she is amenable to
+the laws of the United States of America, one of which reads thusly:
+'Thou shalt pay thy bills; and if thou dost not, then _poco tiempo_ thou
+shalt be made to pay them, even unto the seizure and sale of thy ship.'
+And with the purchase of that ship, under an order of sale issued by
+the United States District Court, she becomes a United States ship; we
+register her as such; and the United States simply has to stand back
+of the bill of sale it gave us. Germany knows that; England knows it;
+Austria knows it; and from the jackstaff of the late _Bavarian_, now
+renamed the _Alden M. Peasley_, in honor of my first grandson, there
+floats--”
+
+J. Augustus Redell raised his index finger, enjoining silence:
+
+“Now then! One, two, three! Down, left, up!”
+
+     _“O-ho, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
+         What so-ho pro-houdly we hailed at the twilight's last
+            gleaming?”_
+
+Cappy Ricks sprang to attention. Presently, through the partition, his
+cracked old voice reached Mr. Skinner:
+
+
+     _“Then conquer we must, when our cause is so just;
+         And this be our motto: 'May we nev-er go bust!'”_
+
+“What's doing here?” Mr. Skinner demanded, banging at the door, which
+was locked.
+
+“Go way back and sit down!” Cappy shrilled. “I'll show you and Matt
+Peasley where to head in, yet--see if I don't!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+
+Cappy Ricks and J. Augustus Redell arrived at the Merchants' Exchange
+promptly at one o'clock on the date of the sale of the S. S. _General
+Carranza,_ as the _Bavarian_ was now called. Just inside the door they
+paused and looked at each other.
+
+“Whe-e-e-ew!” murmured Cappy Ricks. “All the shipping men in the world
+are here to bid on our property, Gus.”
+
+Mr. Redell whistled softly. “This,” he said, “will be some auction!”
+
+Cappy chuckled.
+
+“There is only one thing that a shipping man in this country has more
+respect for than an Order in Council--and that is an Order in the United
+States District Court!”
+
+“Naturally. It's backed up by our army and navy.”
+
+“By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, somebody's sporting blood is going to be
+tested today; and something tells, me, Augustus, my dear young friend,
+that it's going to be Matt Peasley's.”
+
+“What makes you think so, Cappy?”
+
+Again Cappy chuckled.
+
+“Having used German methods to bring about this auction sale,” he
+confessed, “I concluded to steal a little more of this Teutonic stuff;
+so I established a system of espionage in Skinner's office and another
+in Matt Peasley's. Gus, I got a lot of low-down information on those two
+young pups; they're trying to slip something over on the old dog.”
+
+“Well, they'll never teach him any new tricks, Cappy.”
+
+“You know it! I observe that, as usual, Jim Searles will conduct the
+auction. He's climbing up on the block now, and, by the Toenails of
+Moses, Matt Peasley is on the job! Look, Gus! You can see his black head
+sticking up out of the heart of the riot.”
+
+As Cappy and Redell joined the crowd Jim Searles, by acclamation the
+auctioneer of the Port of San Francisco, rapped smartly with his little
+gavel, and a tense silence settled over the crowd.
+
+“This,” Mr. Searles announced, “will be a fight to a finish, winner take
+all. In accordance with an order of the United States District Court I
+am about to sell, at public auction, to the highest bidder, the Mexican
+Steamship _General Carranza_, ex-German Steamship _Bavarian_, to satisfy
+the following judgments: Mr. J. Augustus Redell--”
+
+“Cut it out!” roared Matt Peasley. “We've all read the list of
+creditors, and you're only gumming up the game. Come down to business
+Jim.”
+
+“Good boy, Peasley! Sure! Cut it out, Jim! Get busy!” A dozen voices
+seconded Captain Matt Peasley's motion and Jim Searles rapped for order.
+
+“How much am I offered?” he cried.
+
+“One million dollars!” roared Matt Peasley.
+
+On the fringe of the eager crowd Cappy Ricks leaned up against his
+friend Redell and commenced to laugh.
+
+“The young scoundrel!” he chortled. “He never said a word to me about
+this auction; he was afraid I'd butt in and block his purchase; so, for
+his impudence, I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget. Bid, Gus! Bet
+'em as high as a hound's back.”
+
+“Captain Matt Peasley, representing the Blue Star Navigation Company,
+bids one million dollars. Chicken feed! Won't some real sport please
+tilt the ante?” Jim Searles pleaded. “Don't waste my time, gentlemen.
+It's valuable. Let's get this thing over and go back to our offices.”
+
+“One million five hundred thousand!” called J. Augustus Redell.
+
+“I called for a sport and drew a piker,” Jim Searles retorted. “Mr. J.
+Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, bids a million and a
+half.”
+
+Young Dalton Mann, representing the Pacific Mail Steamship Company,
+raised his hand and snapped his fingers at the auctioneer.
+
+“And a hundred thousand!” he shouted.
+
+“And a hundred thousand!” Matt Peasley retorted.
+
+“And fifty thousand!” Mann flung back at him.
+
+Matt Peasley eyed his antagonist belligerently.
+
+“That's doing very well for a young fellow,” Searles complimented the
+last bidder. “Skipper Peasley, are you going to let this landlubber
+outgame you? He has bid a million and three-quarters. Think of the
+present high freight rates and speak up, or remain forever silent.”
+
+The bidding had so suddenly and by such prodigious bounds reached the
+elimination point that every piker present was afraid to open his mouth
+in the presence of these plungers. Matt Peasley licked his lips and
+glanced round rather helplessly. He knew he had about reached the limit
+of his bidding, but he suspected that Mann had reached his also.
+
+“And ten thousand!” he shouted desperately.
+
+“Cheap stuff! Cheap stuff!” the crowd jeered good-naturedly.
+
+Cappy Ricks nudged J. Augustus Redell as Mann waved his hand in token of
+surrender. “One million seven hundred and sixty thousand I am offered,”
+ the auctioneer intoned. “Any further bids?” He waited a full minute;
+then resorted to three minutes of cajolery, but in vain. There were no
+more bids.
+
+Jim Searles raised his hammer.
+
+“Going--once!” he called--and waited. “Going--twice!” Another pause.
+“Going--”
+
+“Two million dollars!” cried J. Augustus Redell; and a sigh went up from
+the excited onlookers.
+
+“Ah! Mr. Redell is a sport, after all! Two million, flat!” Searles
+looked down on Matt Peasley. “Die, dog, or eat the meat ax!” he warned
+the unhappy young man.
+
+“Let him have her,” Matt growled; and, very red of face, he commenced to
+shoulder his way through the crowd.
+
+“Beat it, Cappy; he's coming!” Redell warned the president emeritus.
+
+Cappy Ricks, dodging round the flank of the crowd, fled through the side
+entrance of the Merchants' Exchange; and he was tranquilly smoking a
+cigar in his private office when Matt Peasley dropped in on him an hour
+later. Cappy eyed him coldly.
+
+“Is Skinner back from luncheon?” he demanded. Matt nodded. “Tell him to
+come in here. I want to see him,” Cappy continued ominously. “And you
+might stick round yourself.”
+
+Mr. Skinner made his appearance.
+
+[Illustration: “Two million dollars'” cried J Augustus Redell.]
+
+“Close the door,” Cappy commanded.
+
+Mr. Skinner looked a little startled and surprised, but promptly closed
+the door.
+
+“You wanted to see me, Mr. Ricks?” he queried.
+
+Cappy Ricks edged forward until he was seated on the extreme edge of his
+chair. Then he rested a hand on each knee, bent his head, and glared at
+the unhappy Skinner over the rims of his glasses. After thirty seconds
+of this scrutiny he turned to his son-in-law.
+
+“Well,” he said, “I hear you've been attending an auction sale and
+making a star-spangled monkey of yourself bidding a million seven
+hundred and sixty thousand dollars on that Mexican steamer. Matt, have
+you taken leave of your senses?”
+
+“No, sir--not quite; but Gus Redell has. He bought her in for two
+million dollars. Of course he was acting for somebody else, because
+every cent he has is working overtime in the West Coast Trading
+Company.”
+
+“Oh!” Cappy murmured. “Then you didn't get her, after all?”
+
+“No, sir! So perhaps you'd better not holler until you're hit.” Matt
+sighed. “By Neptune,” he declared, “I'd give a cooky to know the name of
+the crazy man who paid two million dollars for that steamer!”
+
+“Behold the lunatic, Matt! Grandpa Ricks, in his second childhood! Gus
+Redell was bidding for me, sonny.”
+
+Matt Peasley sat down rather limply and stared at the president
+emeritus.
+
+“Cappy,” he said presently, “you sent a boy to do a man's work. I had
+the boat bought for a million seven hundred and sixty thousand! For
+heaven's sake, why didn't you tell me you wanted her? And I would have
+laid off. For the love of heaven, why did you go bidding against me?”
+
+“Why didn't you tell me you wanted her, you big simp?” Cappy retorted.
+“You never said a word to me; and naturally Redell thought you were
+acting for somebody else. He had orders from me to get her and damn the
+cost--and he fulfilled his orders.”
+
+“A comedy of errors, truly!” Mr. Skinner observed witheringly.
+
+Matt Peasley raised his huge arms and clenched his great fists in agony.
+
+“Oh, Cappy! Cappy!” he pleaded. “Won't you please retire? You're just
+raising hell with the organization!”
+
+“All right, Matt; I'll retire. But, before I do, I'm going to give
+Skinner a piece of my mind. Skinner, what the devil do you mean by going
+up to the Marine National Bank and borrowing a million dollars on the
+credit of the Ricks Lumber Company? I admit I have given you entire
+charge of the lumber end, and you were quite within your rights when
+you negotiated the loan and signed the note as president; but how did it
+happen that you didn't consult with the old man, if only as a matter of
+common courtesy?”
+
+“I-I-that is, I-well, I didn't mean to be discourteous, Mr. Ricks. Oh, I
+wouldn't have you think, sir--”
+
+“No; you'd have me be a dummy if you could. Why, you almost put the
+skids under me; because, when I went up to the Marine National to make a
+little personal loan in a spirit of preparedness, I discovered that the
+loan you had been given on my assets had jazzed my personal credit all
+to glory! I used to be able to borrow a million dollars on my bare note;
+but I'll be shot if they didn't make me dig up a lot of collateral this
+time! Skinner, I wouldn't have thought that of you. After trusting you
+as I have done for a quarter of a century, to find you giving me the
+double-cross just about breaks my heart. Great Godfrey, Skinner,
+how could you be so false to me? I expect that sort of thing from
+Matt--those one loves the best always swat one; but from you--Skinner,
+I don't know what prevents me from demanding your resignation here and
+now, unless it be because of your previous splendid character and loyal
+service.”
+
+“Oh, Mr. Ricks, Mr. Ricks!” Poor Skinner held up his hands appealingly
+and commenced to weep. “Please do not think ill of me. I swear--”
+
+“You loaned the Ricks Lumber Logging Company's million dollars to Matt
+Peasley to help buy that steamer for the Blue Star Navigation Company;
+and he, the son of a pirate, went to work and borrowed it from you,
+well knowing he had no business to do so. What are you paying the Marine
+National for that money?”
+
+“Five per cent,” Skinner sniffled, for his heart was broken.
+
+“What are you soaking the Blue Star Navigation Company for it?”
+
+“Six,” Skinner confessed miserably.
+
+“That's all right, Skinner, my boy. Cheer up! I forgive you. That little
+profit of one per cent saves your bacon, boy. I guess there's some good
+left in you still; and I'm happy to have this evidence that, though I
+own both companies, you have not forgotten you are responsible for the
+profit-and-loss account of one of them, and Matt Peasley for the other.
+You did quite right to claim that one per cent jerk from Matt. Business
+is business!”
+
+“Yes, you bet it is!” Matt Peasley struck in. “And I want you to lay
+off on Skinner, because what he did was done in fear and trembling, and
+under duress. We were both afraid you'd block the purchase; so we agreed
+to keep our plans secret from you, because--Well, somehow I did want
+that bully big boat the very worst way.”
+
+“And that's exactly the way you set about getting her, Matthew. However,
+you're young--you don't know any better; so I forgive you. Of course
+I realized you wanted, that steamer, boy. I knew your heart was set on
+seeing our house flag floating from her mainstruck; so I--Well, I just
+thought I'd get her for you, to sort of square myself for those two
+bonehead plays I pulled earlier in the year.”
+
+“Oh, but you shouldn't have paid two millions for her, Cappy! Business
+is one thing and sentiment is another.”
+
+“Why, I didn't pay any such price for her! Originally I bought her, as
+a German, for three hundred thousand dollars; in addition to that I've
+spent about ten thousand dollars improving her, and maybe five thousand
+more fussing up the trail of my operations so no smart secret-service
+operative could come round and hang something on me.” He reached into
+his coat pocket and drew forth the United States Marshal's bill of sale.
+“Here, sonny,” he announced, “is your Uncle Sam's certificate of title.
+Hustle up to the customhouse and get it recorded; then make out a bill
+of sale for a one-third interest to the West Coast Trading Company and
+record that also. Then change her name to _Alden M. Peasley_, in honor
+of your first-born, and put her under these two flags.”
+
+He jerked open a drawer in the desk and brought forth a bright new
+edition of Old Glory, followed by the familiar white muslin burgee with
+the blue star.
+
+“Skinner!”
+
+“Yes, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“The United States Marshal has paid all the debts of the _Alden M.
+Peasley_, and this afternoon he'll send his check for the proceeds of
+the sale still remaining in his hands to my lawyer, who holds a most
+ungodly power of attorney from that dummy Guaymas corporation Live Wire
+Luiz organized to buy the ship for us. Our attorney will cash that check
+and send the cash down to you. Please bank it to my credit and take up
+that note I gave the Marine National; then get the securities I hocked
+and tuck them back in my safe-deposit vault. As for the interest at five
+per cent, which the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company will have to pay on
+that million you borrowed to help Matt Peasley hornswoggle father, you
+just charge that to your personal account as a penance for your sins. As
+for the six per cent you pay the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company for
+the money loaned your Blue Star Navigation Company, Matt Peasley, just
+charge that to your personal account as a penance for your sins.”
+
+Both culprits nodded dazedly.
+
+“Now,” Cappy continued, “I'll tell you something else: The _Alden M.
+Peasley_ belongs to the West Coast Trading Company and Alden P. Ricks;
+they own one-third for bringing the deal to my attention and furnishing
+some labor, and I own two-thirds, or the lion's share, for doing a
+lion's work--to wit, putting up the cash and promoting the deal to a
+clean title. Consequently, though you two boys own a nice little block
+of stock in the Blue Star Navigation Company, you don't own a red cent
+in the _Alden M. Peasley_, because she doesn't belong to the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, but to the president emeritus thereof. However, as
+I am about to retire for keeps this time, I'll tell you what I purpose
+doing with my two-thirds of the _Alden M. Peasley_: Skinner, my dear
+boy, I kidded you into tears. Bless you, boy, it broke your heart when
+you thought your old boss figured you'd quit being Faithful Fido,
+didn't it? Skinner, loyalty like yours is very, very precious; and your
+affection is--er--Skinner, you human icicle, you can't bluff me! I'm on
+to you, young feller! Matt, you prepare a deed of gift for one-half of
+my two-thirds interest to Skinner, and take the other half for yourself;
+and when the _Alden M. Peasley_ has earned what I put into her, credit
+my account with it. After that, you and Skinner and Gus Redell and Live
+Wire Luiz can collect the dividends.”
+
+“Oh, Mr. Ricks! This is too much,” Skinner began.
+
+“Tut, tut, sir! Not a peep out of you, sir! How dare you argue with me?
+Now just one word more before you fellers go: The next time you boys go
+bidding on a ship at auction, take a leaf out of Cappy Ricks' book and
+bid against yourself! You can always scare the other fellows off that
+way; the sky is the limit--and you're bound to get your money back. So
+you should _Ish ka bibble_.
+
+“Now you two young freshies go back to your desks and try to learn
+humility. Thus endeth the first lesson, my children.”
+
+Matt Peasley came close to Cappy and put his big arm round the little
+old man.
+
+“Cappy,” he whispered, “please don't retire!”
+
+“All right, son,” Cappy answered; “but get that infernal cry-baby,
+Skinner, out of my office. He's breaking my heart.”
+
+If J. Augustus Redell had been content to sue for peace following his
+deal with Cappy in Australian wheat, all would have been well for that
+young man. Alas! As we have already stated, he was young--and there
+is an old saying to the effect that youth must be served. J. Augustus
+Redell, like Oliver Twist, desired more. His triumph over Cappy in the
+wheat deal merely whetted his desire for more of the Ricks blood, and
+in the end the ingenious rascal evolved a plan for making Cappy the
+laughing stock of the Bilgewater Club for a month of Sundays.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+
+MONSIEUR LE CAPITAINE RICKS
+
+Cappy Ricks entered his office at the unheard-of hour of eight-thirty.
+On his way to his sanctum at the end of the long suite of offices Cappy
+paused in the lair of Mr. Skinner, who looked up, amazed.
+
+“Hello!” he saluted the president emeritus. “What brings you down on the
+job so early this morning, Mr. Ricks?”
+
+“I've got a hen on,” Cappy replied briskly. He glanced at Skinner and
+rubbed his hands together. “Skinner, my dear boy,” he continued, “this
+is a one-horse concern.”
+
+“Three sawmills with a combined output of a million feet a day on a
+ten-hour shift--not to mention a billion feet of stumpage--isn't my idea
+of a one-horse concern,” Mr. Skinner retorted with some asperity.
+
+“Tut, tut, Skinner! I'm not referring to the lumber end at all; so don't
+get touchy. I'm referring to the Blue Star Navigation Company. It's a
+dinky proposition.
+
+“Forty-two vessels--windjammers, steam schooners and foreign-going
+freighters--” began Mr. Skinner; but Cappy cut him short:
+
+“Foreign-going grandmothers! We've got the _Narcissus_ and the
+_Tillicum_.”
+
+“How about my boat--the _John P. Skinner?_”
+
+“Oh, yes! That one we scraped up off the bottom of Papeete Harbor,”
+ Cappy answered maliciously. “Well, that makes three; and really the
+_Skinner_ and the _Narcissus_ are the only vessels built to go foreign.
+Remember, Skinner, we built the _Tillicum_, for the coast-wise lumber
+trade, even though she's so big our competitors thought when we launched
+her we were crazy to build such a whale for that trade.”
+
+“Well, Mr. Ricks?”
+
+“We ought to have more big bottoms, Skinner. We'll have hell-cracking
+freight rates during the war and for a long time thereafter--and here we
+sit round like a lot of dubs, too conservative to help ourselves to the
+gravy. Why, you and Matt Peasley ought to be knitting socks in an old
+ladies' home, for all the progressiveness you're displaying.”
+
+“I am not in charge of the shipping end, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“No; but you've got a tongue in your head, haven't you? You were
+practically in charge of the Blue Star for more than six months--during
+the entire period Matt was at sea in the _Retriever_ and we thought he
+was a goner. Why, dog-gone you, Skinner, even when you thought Matt was
+dead you didn't suggest increasing the fleet. I'm surprised, Skinner, my
+boy, that in my old age, after gathering a lot of young fellows round me
+to carry on the business, I've still got to be the bell mare!”
+
+Mr. Skinner had nothing to say to this; if he had it is doubtful whether
+he would have said it, for he had been too long with Cappy Ricks not
+to know the signs when the old gentleman took the bit in his teeth and
+declared for a new deal.
+
+“I'm going into my office to do some tall thinking, Skinner,” Cappy
+continued. “Remember! No visitors until I've threshed this whole
+business out to my satisfaction. I'm not in to anybody.”
+
+Cappy retired to his office, sat down on his spine in his upholstered
+swivel chair, swung his thin old shanks to the top of his desk, bowed
+his head on his breast, and closed his eyes. Scarcely had he done so
+when the door opened and Matt Peasley thrust his head in.
+
+“Well, Matt?” Cappy queried without opening his eyes.
+
+“I have an offer of forty thousand dollars for our old bark _Altair_,
+Cappy. What do you think we ought to do?”
+
+“Take it!” Cappy shrilled. “You jibbering jackdaw! Grab it! She's been
+a failure since the day I built her; never balanced, always burying her
+nose in the seas, and drowning a sailor about once a year. If we keep
+that ship much longer she'll sail herself under some day and we'll be
+out the forty thousand. _Altair!_ Fancy name! Skinner got it out of Ben
+Hur. He'd been in the shipping game ten years then and hadn't learned
+that was the name of a star! We should have called her the _Water
+Spaniel_. Sell her, Matt, and we'll put the money into a steamer that
+can run foreign.”
+
+“If you can tell me where we can buy, even at three times her intrinsic
+value, a steamer that will run foreign, I'm willing to consider selling
+the _Altair_. Just at present she's earning big dividends; and until we
+can find a place to invest her selling price, the money will earn six
+per cent instead of sixty, as at present.”
+
+“Clear out and let me think!” Cappy commanded, and Matt Peasley retired
+to Mr. Skinner's office.
+
+“Have you noticed the old gentleman lately?” he inquired of Skinner.
+“Ever since his grandson arrived grandpa has been paying attention to
+business.”
+
+“He's dissatisfied with his own and our efforts thus far. He thinks he's
+been a piker and that you and I are his first-assistant pikers. He has
+ships on the brain.”
+
+“He's getting pretty cocky,” Matt agreed; “but, at that, I guess he has
+a license to be.”
+
+“I've been with him twenty-six--yes, twenty-seven--years; and I know
+him, Matt. He's cooking up something prodigious--and it will soon be
+done.”
+
+The door of Cappy's office opened and Cappy stood in the entrance.
+
+“Skinner,” he ordered, “get me a letter of credit for about twenty
+thousand dollars. I'm going travelling.”
+
+“Where?” Matt and Skinner queried in chorus.
+
+“To Europe.”
+
+“You're not!” Matt Peasley declared. “You're liable to be torpedoed en
+route.”
+
+“I know, but then, too, I'm liable not to be; and if I am, why, I'm an
+old man, and I'll only be cheating the devil by a few years or a few
+months. Come in here, you two dead ones.”
+
+They followed him into his office.
+
+“We need some steamers,” Cappy announced. “Every shipyard in the United
+States that could build the kind of steamer we want is full up with
+contracts for the next three years; so I'm going to Norway or Sweden
+or Denmark, or some non-belligerent European country, and see whether I
+can't place some contracts there for a couple of real freighters. Then,
+too, I may be able to pick up good vessels over there at a reasonable
+price. Under the Emergency Shipping Act we can get them provisional
+American registry--and that's all we need. Before a great while Uncle
+Sam is going to turn his antiquated shipping laws inside out, and any
+foreign-built boats we may acquire now will be given the right to run in
+the coastwise trade also.”
+
+“See here, Cappy,” Matt reminded the old man; “you're retired and I'm
+in charge of the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation Company. I don't
+want you working yourself to death.”
+
+“You mean you don't want me butting in. Nonsense! What's the use of
+having a grandson if a fellow doesn't hustle up something for the boy to
+sharpen his teeth on when he grows up? Here I've been living from day to
+day, just marking time on the road to eternity and figuring life wasn't
+worth while because the stock was going to die out with me. Up until
+recently I was content with a little old one-horse business; but now, by
+the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, boy, we've got to get out and shake a leg!
+Freighters! That's what we want. Big, well-decked tramps, flying the
+Stars and Stripes in every port on earth. Why, what kind of a nation are
+we getting to be, anyway? We're a passel of mollycoddles, asleep on the
+job. We haven't half enough ships to coal our navy. In the event of war
+it would take us a week to dig up ships enough to transport the New York
+Police Department. I tell you, Matt, when I'm gone you'll have to have
+something for that grandson of mine to do or he'll grow up into one of
+these idle-rich, ne'er-do-well, two-for-a-quarter dudes. You bet I've
+been doing a deal of thinking lately. We can't send that boy to college,
+and spoil him before he's twenty-five. We'll run that young man through
+high school; just about that time he'll begin to get snobbish and we'll
+take that out of him by sending him to sea as a cadet on one of our own
+ships. We'll teach him democracy--that's what we'll teach him. When
+he's twenty-one he'll be a skipper like his forebears and you'll be only
+about forty-six. Good Lord! To think of you two young fellows running my
+Blue Star ships--and not enough ships to keep you busy! Preposterous! I
+can't consider--Well, Hankins, my dear boy, what's troubling you?”
+
+Mr. Hankins, the secretary, had entered.
+
+“I wanted to see Mr. Skinner a moment. I'll wait. Didn't know you were
+busy.”
+
+And he started to retire. Cappy checked him: “Finish with Skinner,
+Hankins. He'll be in consultation here with Matt and me for an hour
+yet.”
+
+“I just wanted to know, Mr. Skinner, whether all those cablegrams to
+Captain Landry, of the _Altair_, are to be charged to general expense,
+Captain Landry's personal account, or to the _Altair_.”
+
+“It seems to me you should charge them to Captain Landry, Hankins,”
+ Mr. Skinner spoke up. “It isn't ship's business and it isn't Blue Star
+business. If he wants this office to cable him every day about his
+family--”
+
+“Here! What's this you're talking about, Skinner?” Cappy interrupted.
+
+“When Captain Landry sailed for Callao his wife didn't accompany him--”
+
+“Lucky rascal! He told me he was expecting an heir.”
+
+“And he's still expecting that heir.”
+
+“Naturally,” Mr. Hankins explained, “he's been anxious for news;
+and ever since his arrival in Callao he's cabled us every other
+day--latterly every day--asking whether the baby has been born, and
+whether it's a boy or a girl.”
+
+“A very pardonable human curiosity, my boy. Proceed.”
+
+“Unfortunately the baby appears to be held up on demurrage and I think
+we've spent at least fifty dollars cabling to Landry that the youngster
+has failed to report. I imagine the skipper has spent twice that sum
+inquiring for news--”
+
+“Of course! It's his first baby, isn't it? You must allow for human
+nature.”
+
+“I thought we would--for the first half dozen cablegrams; but after it
+became a habit it appeared that Landry ought to pay for his fancies.”
+
+“He should,” Mr. Skinner declared firmly. “Charge the cablegrams to
+Landry.”
+
+“Nothing doing!” piped Cappy. “Charge 'em to general expense. Dang you,
+Skinner, I despair of ever breaking you of that habit of operating on
+the cheap!”
+
+“Oh, very well, sir--only the expense is getting to be quite an item.”
+
+“I'm just about to send him another cablegram,” Mr. Hankins declared
+fretfully. “The _Altair_ is due to sail from Callao and the baby is
+still unborn; it will be two months old, at least, before the skipper
+gets any further news.”
+
+“Let's see your cablegram,” Cappy ordered, and Mr. Hankins passed
+it over. Cappy read it. “Holy suffering sailor!” he cried. “Why this
+concern isn't in the hands of a receiver is a mystery to me.” He looked
+up at Mr. Hankins with blood in his eye. “Here you are, Hankins, trying
+to saddle a bill of expense on a poor, heartbroken, anxious, embryo
+parent-to-be. Knowing full well that he only makes a hundred and
+fifty dollars a month, you admit to an endeavor to stick him for fifty
+dollars' worth of cablegrams from this end, not to mention those from
+his end. If you had spent your time, sir, figuring out a way to cut down
+that cable expense, instead of discovering a rotten way to get rid of
+it--Why, look here! You can use your code book and save a couple of
+dollars.”
+
+“Code book!” Mr. Hankins protested indignantly. “Why, who ever heard of
+a code book for cabling on baby business?”
+
+“Use your shipping code. Here; hand me that code book. There's bound
+to be something to fit the occasion--there always is. Hum-m-m! Ahem!
+Harumph-h-h! Let us see what we shall see under the head of cargoes;
+Loading! Discharging! Demurrage! Ahem! That won't do. He'd be liable to
+confuse it with the ship's business. Harumph-h-h! Arrivals. Now we have
+it. Landry has been asking of an expected arrival, hasn't he?” Cappy
+ran his index finger down the page. “Here you are, Hankins. Hum-m-m!
+Afilamos--meaning no new arrivals. Naturally Landry will say to himself:
+'Well, for heaven's sake, when will that child arrive?' We should
+enlighten him on that point.”
+
+“We cannot.”
+
+“Very well, then. Say so. Here you are. Affumicata--meaning: We cannot
+guarantee time of arrival. Hankins, have you talked with Mrs. Landry's
+physician in order to get the latest ringside reports?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“What does he say?”
+
+“Well, he says he thinks it will be twins, in a couple of days at the
+most.”
+
+“Good news! Here you are. Afilaba--meaning: Heavy arrivals expected
+shortly. Now then, Hankins, he'll want some news of his wife, won't he?
+How about her?”
+
+“She went to the hospital this morning.”
+
+Cappy closed his eyes and pondered; then once more took up the code
+book. Followed a silence. Then:
+
+“Bully! He'll understand perfectly, being a sailor. Desdoble--meaning:
+Is now in dry dock. And, of course, Landry will want to know whether his
+wife is in any danger. Danger! Danger! Ships are sometimes in danger.
+When? When they're wrecked, of course. Let us look under the head of
+wrecks... No; nothing seems to fill the bill. Wreck, wrecked, worse,
+writ, write, wrong--ah, I have it! Wohlgemuth--meaning: There is nothing
+wrong.” He looked up at Mr. Hankins. “Now there's the kind of cablegram
+to send--even on baby business. Those four code words translated mean:
+No new arrivals; heavy arrivals expected shortly; is now in dry dock;
+there is nothing wrong. Literally translated it means: Baby not born
+yet; twins expected shortly; your wife now in hospital; everything
+lovely! I suppose, Hankins, you have carbon copies of all these
+cablegrams you've been sending?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Code them all, so far as possible, and ascertain how much money you
+might have saved the Blue Star by the exercise of a little common sense;
+then charge the cablegrams, on the coded basis, to our general expense,
+and charge to your personal account the sum you might have saved by the
+exercise of the ingenuity and efficiency I have a right to expect of a
+man who draws down as fat a salary as you do.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+
+Mr. Hankins withdrew, greatly crestfallen, and the despot of the Blue
+Star office turned to his trusted lieutenants.
+
+“Well,” he declared, “one after the other you have to come to the old
+man to be shown. I guess I've proved to you two boys this morning that
+I'm to be trusted with buying a few ships and letting contracts for a
+few more, haven't I?”
+
+“I don't like the idea of Cappy Ricks on a steamer that's likely to be
+torpedoed. I don't want you to go to Europe alone--”
+
+“I'm not going alone. Captain Mike Murphy, our new port captain, is
+going with me. I wouldn't think of buying a steamer unless that splendid
+fellow O.K.'d the hull. And Terry Reardon, our new port engineer, will
+accompany me also. Terry has to O.K. the engines. Between the three of
+us, it's going to take a smart trader to sell us any junk, I'm telling
+you!”
+
+“I ought to go with you,” Matt suggested.
+
+“You have your work at home, attending to the fleet. It isn't much of a
+fleet, I'll admit; but such as it is it requires some attention. I'll be
+the chief scout of this organization and see whether I can't rustle
+up some major-league vessels from some of those bush-league European
+owners.”
+
+“I've had a fine time getting good men to take their places in the
+_Narcissus_ since you promoted Mike and Terry in my absence!” Matt
+complained. “Mike and Terry know her well--and she's such a big brute to
+handle.”
+
+“Where is the _Narcissus_, by the way?”
+
+“Loading nitrate at Tocopilla and Antofagasta, Chile. This is her last
+voyage under the old charter.”
+
+“Got any new business in sight for her?”
+
+“I won't have the slightest difficulty getting another nitrate charter
+and at a rate double what she's been getting.”
+
+“Every vessel taken off the nitrate run stiffens the freight rate in
+these days, when they have to have so much nitrate in the manufacture
+of war munitions,” the astute Cappy declared. “If I were you, Matt,
+I'd find her a good outside cargo or two, and then slip her back in the
+nitrate business again. Freights may have advanced in the interim.”
+
+“I have a mighty profitable cargo offered me this morning, Cappy. An
+agent of the British Government called on me and offered a whopping
+price for carrying a cargo of mules and horses from Galveston to Havre.
+I think I shall turn the proposition down. It's too dangerous, Cappy.”
+
+“You mean we might have our ship blown up by a German submarine?”
+
+Matt nodded.
+
+“Well, we'd collect our freight in advance, wouldn't we? And the British
+Government will guarantee to reimburse us if the ship is lost, will it
+not? Well, then, where's the risk?”
+
+“There's the danger to the crew.”
+
+“Any man that goes to sea knows he has to take a chance. Bet you Mike
+Murphy could take that cargo of livestock across and bring another cargo
+back. He's luckier than a cross-eyed coon. And another thing, Matt:
+If you accept that business we can kill two birds with one stone--yes,
+three--because Mike and Terry and I will cross over on the _Narcissus_
+and save the price of transportation from here to New York, and from New
+York to Liverpool. Then, while the _Narcissus_ is discharging and taking
+on another cargo, we'll go scouting for available steamers.”
+
+“It might be done, though I hate to think of it Cappy. If we lose the
+vessel they'll pay us a million and a half for her, of course--and she
+cost us less than three hundred thousand a year ago. And, as you say,
+we'll collect the freight in advance. They're very anxious to get the
+_Narcissus_. She's a whopping big boat, and that's the kind of a vessel
+they need for a horse transport.”
+
+“Yes; and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it will be a bully vacation,
+and a bully vacation is something I haven't had since the night of the
+big wind in Ireland. Moreover, I combine business with pleasure, which
+is always desirable; and, if that isn't excuse enough, I want to tell
+you it's cheaper to travel dead-head on our own boats than to pay for
+three round-trip tickets to Europe on a Cunard liner.”
+
+“But suppose a German submarine--”
+
+“Matt, all my life I've played a quiet, safe, sane, conservative game.
+I've always longed for adventure and never had it. Why, just consider a
+moment what a tiresome thing life would be were it not for the
+prospect of death at any moment! That's all that keeps us hustling,
+my boy--trying to put over a winning run before the game is called on
+account of darkness. Hell's bells! Don't try to scare me with a sheet
+and the rattle of old bones. Suppose they do blow us up? We don't lose a
+dollar; in fact, we make money--and we can take to the boats, can't we?”
+
+“They only give you fifteen minutes--”
+
+“We'll have the boats swung overside, provisioned and ready, two days
+ahead.”
+
+“But they don't care how far out to sea they leave you. I spent two
+weeks in an open boat once and I know you can't stand two days. The
+exposure--”
+
+“When we get down to Galveston,” Cappy interrupted triumphantly, “I'll
+have Mike Murphy buy a nice, staunch little secondhand motor cruiser,
+thirty-eight or forty feet long, with plenty of power and comfortable
+living accommodations for half a dozen people. Mike will arrange for
+extra oil and gasoline tankage, and we'll swing this cruiser in on the
+main deck and let it rest there in a cradle, with the slings round it,
+ready to lift overside with the cargo derricks at a minute's notice.
+I'll be as snug in that little cruiser as a bug under a chip--and we'll
+tow the lifeboats. So that settles it--and if it doesn't I'd like to
+know who's the boss of this shebang, anyhow!”
+
+Mr. Skinner glanced covertly at Captain Matt Peasley and shook his head
+almost imperceptibly, as who should say: “Better give in to him, Matt.
+I know him longer than you do; he'll have his way if it kills him.”
+ And Matt took the hint, with the result that some six weeks later Cappy
+Ricks, accompanied by his faithful port captain and his equally faithful
+port engineer, cleared for Galveston aboard the Sunset Limited. And at
+Galveston began the only real vacation Cappy Ricks had ever had.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI
+
+
+To begin, there was the task of superintending the installation of the
+accommodations for the cargo of mules and horses. Cappy was particularly
+interested in the ventilating system below decks, for he was fond of
+horses and had resolved to deliver the cargo without the loss of a
+single animal. Of no mediocre turn of mind mechanically, he, assisted by
+Terry Reardon, made a few suggestions that the British veterinaries in
+charge were very glad to accept.
+
+The real enjoyment of the trip, however, Cappy found down at the
+breaking corrals where the horses were detraining. They were all young
+and full of life, and fully ninety per cent of them had only been
+halter-broken. In the lot was many an outlaw whose ancestors had run
+wild for generations in Nevada; and as the delivery contract specified
+that a horse to be accepted must be broken--God save the mark!--as
+Terence Reardon remarked after seeing one passed as broken, following
+five minutes of furious pitching and squealing--Cappy Ricks was one of
+the first at the corral and the last to leave. Perched on the topmost,
+rail, he piped encouragement to the lank, flat-bellied border busters
+who, a dozen times a day, risked life and limb at five dollars a bust.
+
+Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon, who had ridden more than one China Sea
+typhoon and West India hurricane, marvelled that men should take such
+risks for any amount of money. Privately they considered Cappy Ricks
+an accessory before the fact, inasmuch as Cappy hung up at least five
+hundred dollars in small prizes for the vaqueros. Whenever they had
+a “bad one” they could always induce Cappy to offer ten dollars for
+staying two minutes and five dollars a minute for each minute over the
+limit--which seldom reached two minutes. Also, Cappy was willing to
+furnish two silver dollars whenever some adventurer thought he could put
+a dollar between each leg and the saddle and have the dollars there when
+the horse surrendered. They ran in a couple of trained buckers on Cappy
+and depleted his bank roll considerably before he began to smell a rat.
+
+To these plainsmen, charged with the destinies of the mounts for the
+young British soldier, Cappy Ricks was known familiarly as Cap. Before
+the last of the horses had been passed as broken and hustled aboard the
+big _Narcissus_, Cappy knew each horse wrangler by his first name or
+nickname, and had learned the intricacies of many hitherto unheard-of
+games of chance that flourish along the Rio Grande. He was an expert
+at cooncan, and Pangingi fascinated him; then they taught him Mexican
+monte, and one worthless individual stole an ace out of the deck,
+whereupon all hands had a joyous hack at Cappy, who, when informed
+privately by his friend, Sam Daniels, foreman of the outfit, that he
+was in bad company and being skinned alive, went uptown and bought some
+specially constructed dice, which he introduced brazenly into a crap
+game, thereby more than catching even. He was the last man in the world
+a gang of wicked cowboys would suspect of guile; all of them, quite
+foolishly, thought he had more money than brains.
+
+Eventually, however, the _Narcissus_ was loaded, Cappy moved into the
+owner's suite, and his new-found friends bunked in a temporary deck
+house forward when they weren't busy below decks playing chambermaid to
+the cargo. And with Cappy's motor cruiser swung in the cradle, ready
+for launching from the main deck aft, the _Narcissus_ slipped out of
+Galveston and went snoring across the Gulf of Mexico, bound for Le
+Havre.
+
+Mike Murphy was not happy, however. He resented Cappy Ricks, who would
+persist in going below to inspect the cargo and in consequence smelled
+like a hostler. Moreover, Michael was the port captain of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company now and not the master of the ship; and the
+_Narcissus_ wasn't out of sight of land before Mike made the discovery
+that the boatswain of the ship was absolutely inefficient, that the cook
+was wasteful, that the first officer was too talkative, and the skipper
+too easy-going.
+
+And these conditions, on a ship he had once commanded, irked Murphy
+exceedingly. Terence Reardon was in much the same state of mind. Being
+port engineer, he investigated the engine room and found that his
+favorite monkey wrench had been lost; there were two leaky tubes in
+the main boiler; the ash hoist was out of kilter; his successor in the
+_Narcissus_ was carrying ten pounds of steam less than Terence used to
+carry; and there was something not quite right with the condenser.
+The engine room crew Terence characterized to Mike Murphy as a gang of
+“vagabones,” and hinted darkly at sweeping changes when the ship should
+get back to the United States. Once he went so far as to state that he
+might have expected as much when, upon leaving the _Narcissus_ to become
+port engineer, he had given her to his old first assistant; since he had
+never known a first assistant, barring himself, to make a good chief!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII
+
+
+On the very day the _Narcissus_ left Galveston the German submersible
+V-l4 left her base at Zeebrugge, with oil and torpedoes sufficient to
+last her on an ordinary three weeks' cruise, and promptly headed for
+that section of the Atlantic where information and belief told her
+commander the hunting would be good. And it was--so good, in fact, that
+to the very great disgust of her crew she had just two torpedoes in
+stock when the man on watch at her periscope reported a large freight
+steamer to the west. Promptly the V-l4 submerged and proceeded on
+a course calculated to intercept the freighter, which presently was
+discovered to be the U.S.S. _Narcissus_.
+
+The captain of the V-l4 almost licked his chops. He had heard of the
+_Narcissus_. The neutrality laws of the United States had prevented him
+from hearing of her by wireless when she cleared from Galveston, but
+he had been on the lookout for her, just the same, ever since a Dutch
+steamer from New York, with an alert German chief mate, had touched at
+Copenhagen, from which point the dispatches that mate carried had
+gone underground straight to the office of the German Admiralty. The
+information anent the _Narcissus_ had been brief but illuminating:
+She had been chartered to carry horses for the British Government from
+Galveston to Le Havre, and the word to get her at all hazards had been
+passed to the submarine flotilla.
+
+Captain Emil Bechtel, of the V-l4, did not possess an Iron Cross of any
+nature whatsoever, and as he studied the oncoming _Narcissus_ through
+the periscope he reflected that this big brute of a boat would bring him
+one, provided he was lucky. He remembered he had but two torpedoes left,
+and under the circumstances he paused to consider.
+
+Clearly--since the _Narcissus_ was laden with horses and mules for the
+enemy she was carrying contraband--she must not escape. On the other
+hand, there had been a deal of unpleasantness of late because President
+Wilson had been protesting the sinking of vessels without warning--and
+the _Narcissus_ was a United States steamer. Consequently if he
+torpedoed her without warning the temperamental Kaiser might make of
+Captain Emil Bechtel what is colloquially known as the goat; whereas,
+on the other hand, should he conform to international law and place her
+crew in safety before sinking her, there was a chance that her wireless
+might summon a patrol boat to the vicinity--Bechtel had sighted one less
+than an hour before--and patrol boats had a miserable habit, when they
+sighted a periscope, of shooting it to pieces.
+
+Then, too, it was just possible that the perfidious English had mounted
+a couple of six-inch guns on her after getting to sea--and the German
+knew a six-inch shell, well-placed, would send his vessel to the bottom.
+Moreover, it was sunset; in half an hour it would be twilight; he had
+no knowledge of the speed of the _Narcissus_ and she might try to make a
+run for it, thus forcing him to come to the surface and shell her should
+he miss with his torpedoes. Further, if he attacked her and she escaped,
+there was an elderly gentleman with whiskers back in Berlin who would do
+things to him if the Kaiser didn't.
+
+There was, however, one course open to the German. To his way of
+thinking, during the exciting diplomatic tangle with the United States,
+he would be damned if he did and damned if he didn't; but if he did, and
+nobody could prove it, old Von Tirpitz would ask no questions.
+
+“I'll let her have it,” Captain Emil Bechtel concluded; and he passed
+the word to get ready.
+
+A minute later Cappy Ricks, smoking his after-dinner cigar on the bridge
+of the Narcissus with her skipper and Mike Murphy, pointed far off the
+port bow.
+
+“There's a shark or a swordfish, or something, breaching,” he said. “I
+can see his wake.”
+
+Mike Murphy took a casual glance in the direction Cappy was pointing,
+while the master of the _Narcissus_ reached for his marine glasses and
+lazily put them to his eyes.
+
+“Shark be damned!” yelled Murphy. “It's a torpedo or I'm a Chinaman!
+Hard-a-starboard!”
+
+He leaped for the engine-room telegraph and jammed it over to Full Speed
+Astern; then dashed into the pilot house and commenced a furious ringing
+of the ship's bell, summoning the crew to boat drill, the while his
+anxious eye marked the swift progress of the white streak coming toward
+them. What wind there was happened fortunately to be on the vessel's
+port counter, and as the helmsman spun the wheel the big vessel fell off
+quickly and easily, while the rumble of her shaft, suddenly reversed,
+fairly shook the ship. To Cappy Ricks it seemed that the vessel must be
+brought up standing, like one of the broncos he had seen ridden with
+a Spanish bit; but a big ship under full headway is not stopped very
+abruptly, and the _Narcissus_ swept on, turning as she went in order to
+offer as little target as possible to the torpedo.
+
+“Will we make it, Mike?” Cappy Ricks queried in a very small, awed
+voice.
+
+Mike Murphy turned and found his owner at his elbow.
+
+“I hope it hits her forward,” he replied. “That motor cruiser is cradled
+aft and we might save it. They never hailed us--ah-h-h, missed!”
+
+The torpedo flew by, missing the big blunt bow by less than three feet.
+
+“I guess they'll get us just the same,” Mike Murphy murmured quietly;
+“but we're going down fighting.”
+
+And, disregarding the master of the _Narcissus_, who was staring
+vacantly after the flying torpedo, he rang for Full Speed Ahead, and
+called down the speaking tube to the chief to hook her on for all he
+had; then, with his helm still hard-a-starboard, he swung the ship in
+as small a circle as possible and headed her at full speed back over the
+course so recently traveled by the torpedo.
+
+“That was a beautifully timed shot--that last one,” he informed Cappy
+Ricks admiringly. “If we'd sighted it thirty seconds later--”
+
+“Where the devil are you going, man?” Cappy yelled frantically.
+
+“I'm going to give that fellow a surprise,” Murphy growled. “He expected
+us to run for it after that first one missed--and I'm running for him!
+He may not get me with the next one if I come bows on--and I might ram
+him! I'll take a chance. Keep your eyes open for his periscope.”
+
+Aboard the V-l4 Captain Emil Bechtel said nothing, but thought a great
+deal--when he saw that his first torpedo had missed its prey. He was
+in for it now; he had started something and he had to go through. And,
+anticipating that the _Narcissus_ would show him her heels and steer
+a zigzag course, he immediately launched his last torpedo as the horse
+transport lay quartering to him.
+
+To his disgust, however, the steamer, having avoided the first torpedo,
+did not run as he had anticipated. Instead, she continued to turn round
+on her heels, each revolution of her wheel lifting her out of the course
+of the second torpedo, since the submarine had fired slightly ahead of
+the vessel, knowing that if she continued for two minutes on the course
+he expected her to take she would steam fairly across the path of the
+huge missile. So he missed again--the torpedo slid under her stern--and
+here was that demon horse transport bearing down on him at full speed
+and with a bone in her teeth.
+
+“The jig is up,” murmured Bechtel, and gave the order to submerge
+deeper, for he would not risk showing his periscope to the keen eyes on
+that bridge.
+
+For ten minutes he waited, while the submarine scuttled blindly out
+of the path of the onrushing transport; then, concluding that the
+_Narcissus_ had passed him, he came up and took a look round. He was
+right. A cable length astern and another off his port quarter the
+steamer was plunging over the darkening sea, and Captain Emil Bechtel
+knew he had her now; so promptly he came to the surface.
+
+Mike Murphy, glancing off his starboard quarter, saw her periscope come
+swiftly up; then her turret showed; then her turtle deck flashed for a
+moment on the surface, like a giant fish, before she rose higher and the
+water cascaded down her sides.
+
+Cappy Ricks' anxious face turned a delicate green; he glanced up at his
+bully port captain as if in that rugged personality alone could he hope
+for salvation. Murphy caught the glance, shook his head, walked over to
+the engine-room telegraph and set the handle over to stop.
+
+“No use, sir,” he informed Cappy. “That Dutchman is out of torpedoes, so
+he's coming up to shell us. We'll heave to and save funeral expenses.”
+ He turned to the master of the _Narcissus_. “Captain, I'll stay on the
+bridge and conduct all negotiations with that fellow; get your mates,
+round up everybody and prepare to abandon the ship in a hurry. Get the
+motor cruiser overside first.”
+
+As the captain hurried away, Terence Reardon came up on the bridge. The
+port engineer's gloomy visage portended tears, but through his narrowed
+lids Cappy Ricks saw not tears, but the light of murder. Terence did
+not speak, but thoughtfully puffed his pipe, and, with Murphy and Cappy
+Ricks, watched the booby hatch on the submarine's deck slide back and
+her long, slim, three-inch gun appear, like the tongue of a huge viper.
+
+Heads appeared round the breech of the gun; so Michael J. Murphy seized
+a megaphone and shouted:
+
+“_Nein! Nix!_” accompanying his words with wild pantomime that meant
+“Don't shoot!”
+
+Captain Emil Bechtel was vastly relieved. He was not an inhuman man,
+even if, on occasion, as has already been demonstrated, he could, for
+the sake of national expediency, sink a ship without warning. Having
+missed with both torpedoes, he could now, in the event of national
+complications, enter a vigorous denial of any affidavits alleging an
+attempted breach of international law, and his government would uphold
+him. This knowledge rendered him both cheerful and polite, as he hove to
+some hundred yards to starboard of the _Narcissus_ and informed Captain
+Michael J. Murphy that the latter had just fifteen minutes in which to
+save the ship's company; whereat Michael J. proved himself every inch a
+sailor, while Terence P. proved himself a marine engineer. If there was
+a word of opprobrium, mundane or nautical, which the port skipper didn't
+shout at that submarine commander, the port engineer supplied it. In
+all his life Cappy Ricks had never listened to such rich, racy, unctuous
+abuse; it lifted itself about the level of the commonplace and became a
+work of art. Cappy was horrified.
+
+“Boys! Boys!” he pleaded. “This is frightful!”
+
+“What do you expect from a German, sir?” Murphy demanded. “Frightfulness
+is his middle name.”
+
+“I mean you two--and your language. Stop it! You'll contaminate me.”
+
+“Well, sor,” Terence Reardon replied philosophically, “I suppose there's
+small use cryin' over spilt milk--musha, what are they up to now?”
+
+“They're dragging a collapsible boat up from below,” Mike Murphy
+declared. “That means they're going to board us, place bombs in the
+bilges, and sink us that way. They know blamed well we've wirelessed for
+help and a patrol has answered; so that--”
+
+“No profanity!” Cappy shrilled.
+
+“So he has decided he won't try to sink us by shell fire with such a
+small gun. It'll be dark in five minutes and he's afraid the flame of
+the discharge or the reports of the gun may guide the patrol boat here
+before he's finished his job. Oh, wirra, wirra!”
+
+Murphy's surmise proved to be correct, for he had scarcely finished
+speaking before the submarine commander hailed him and ordered him to
+let down his gangway. Terence P. Reardon's eyes flamed with the lust for
+battle.
+
+“Be the great gun av Athlone,” he cried, “if they're comin' aboard sure
+we can get at them!”
+
+Murphy's rage vanished as suddenly as it had gripped him; he smiled at
+Terence affectionately, approvingly.
+
+“You with your monkey wrench, eh, Terry, my lad? And they with automatic
+pistols and wishful of an excuse to use them, not to mention the
+nitroglycerin and guncotton bombs they'll be carrying--a divilish bad
+thing to have kicking round in a free-for-all fight?” he queried.
+
+Terry's face showed his deep disappointment.
+
+“They'll see us all in the boats,” Murphy continued; “then they'll go
+below, set the bombs, light a slow fuse to give them time to get back to
+the submarine--and then--”
+
+“With all these poor dumb beasts aboard?” Cappy Ricks quavered.
+“Horrible! Horrible! I could kill them for it.”
+
+“I could kill them for a greater crime than that,” his port captain
+reminded him. “Didn't they try twice to sink us without warning? Damn
+them! They're forty fathoms outside the law this minute.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII
+
+
+For the first time in his life Cappy Ricks was in financial and physical
+danger coincidently. Old he was, and a landlubber, for all his courtesy
+title; but in his veins there coursed the blood of a long line of
+fighting ancestors. It occurred to him now that in all his life he had
+never cried “Enough;” that always, when cornered and presumably beaten,
+he had gone into executive session with himself and, fox that he was,
+schemed a way out. In this supreme moment there came to him now the
+words of the gallant Lawrence: “Don't give up the ship!” They inspired
+him; his agile old brain, benumbed by the shock of the exciting events
+of the last quarter of an hour, threw off its paralysis; his little
+five-feet-four body thrilled with the impact of a sudden brilliant idea.
+
+“I have it!” he piped. “By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it might be done!
+Mike, the submarine lies to starboard. Tell the mate to lower the port
+gangway.”
+
+Murphy ran out on the end of the bridge and bawled the order. Then he
+came back, and he and Terence and Cappy Ricks put their heads together
+while in brief, illuminating sentences Cappy Ricks unfolded the fruit of
+his genius.
+
+“Tell me,” he pleaded when he had finished, “is that scheme
+practicable?”
+
+“It might be done, sir,” Mike Murphy assented.
+
+“I'll thry anything the wanst,” Terry Reardon almost barked.
+
+“It means some fighting--probably some killing.”
+
+“Sorra wan av me'll feel broken-hearted at killin' the likes av that
+Dutchman,” Terry answered. “Shtill, we'll be needin' some help, I'm
+thinkin'.”
+
+“We'll get it, or I'm no judge of human nature. Mike, pass the word for
+Sam Daniels, the boss of muleteers and broncho busters. Sam used to be a
+Texas Ranger.”
+
+Accordingly Sam Daniels was sent for and arrived on the jump.
+
+“Sam, my dear boy,” said Cappy calmly, “I'm enlisting volunteers to
+raise hell with that submarine. They're going to put bombs in the bilges
+and blow up the ship.”
+
+“Count me in, Cap,” Sam Daniels replied laconically. “Want me to rustle
+up a couple of the boys?”
+
+“Yes, about three real ones--boys that are handy with a six-shooter.”
+
+“I guess most of the boys from the border have their guns in their war
+bags. I'll go get them together.”
+
+He did--in about three minutes; by which time the collapsible boat from
+the submarine had been launched and was pulling toward the _Narcissus_.
+While her master directed them to pull round to the port gangway, Sam
+Daniels slipped down unobserved into Number Three hatch, two of his
+horse wranglers disappeared with an equal lack of ostentation down the
+gangway into Number Two hatch, and a third man went forward and down
+Number One. The trap was set.
+
+A stout young lieutenant clad in soiled dungarees, his uniform cap
+alone denoting his rank, came briskly up the companion, followed by four
+jackies carrying the bombs. A fifth man remained in the boat, fending it
+away with a boat hook from the tall black side of the _Narcissus_.
+
+“Who commands here?” the German demanded in most excellent English.
+
+“I do,” the master of the _Narcissus_ replied, and stepped a pace
+forward.
+
+“Then hurry and get your boats overside. We're going to bomb the ship,
+and if anybody remains aboard when those bombs explode it will be his
+fault, not ours.”
+
+The motor cruiser had already been dropped overboard, and the
+life-boats, having been for two days swung out in the davits, were
+quickly filled and lowered away. As each boat pulled clear of the ship
+the man in charge of it was ordered by the submarine lieutenant to stay
+to port of the _Narcissus_, and to pull well clear of the ship before
+proceeding to pass the towing painters to the cruiser.
+
+“Are all your men off the ship?” the officer queried of the skipper as
+the latter entered the last boat and gave the order to lower away.
+
+“All off; I've accounted for all of them,” was the answer.
+
+The German waited until the boat had slipped away in the gloom before
+turning to his command.
+
+“Proceed!” he said briefly; and, followed by his four men, he led the
+way down the cleated temporary gangway built diagonally down Number
+Three hatch to accommodate the horses when they had been led aboard.
+
+The better to facilitate their progress, Terence Reardon had turned on
+all the electric lights in the ship, and the detail proceeded quickly
+to the lower hold, where they set two bombs and piled double-compressed
+baled hay round them, with the fuse leading out from under the bales.
+In addition to blowing a hole in the ship they were taking the added
+precaution of setting her afire after the explosion.
+
+From the spot where the bombs were set a long alleyway, lined on each
+side with the rumps of horses, each neatly boxed in a stall just wide
+enough and long enough to inclose him firmly and hold him on his feet in
+the event of rough weather, led forward and aft to the bulkheads. And
+in one of these stalls, close up against the rump of a horse he could
+trust, Sam Daniels, the ex-Texas Ranger, crouched, with one eye round
+the corner of the stall, calmly watching the grim proceedings. Something
+told him that, having arranged the bombs in that hold, the enemy would
+not light the fuses until he had set similar bombs at the bottom of the
+other hatches; then, all being in readiness, a man would be sent into
+each hold to light the fuse, scurry on deck, descend to the waiting
+boat, and be pulled clear of danger before the fuses should burn down to
+the fulminating caps.
+
+So Daniels waited until the men were about to pick up the remaining
+bombs and ascend to the deck; whereupon he stepped quietly out into
+the alleyway, a long-barreled forty-five in his hand, and pussyfooted
+swiftly toward the Germans, whose backs were now turned toward him.
+Halfway down the alleyway, on one of the heavy six-by-six-inch uprights
+temporarily set in to support the weight of the hundred mules on the
+deck above, was the electric switch controlling the circuit in that
+hold--and Sam Daniels reached up and turned it down. Instantly the hold
+was in darkness; and then the horseman spoke:
+
+“Hey, you Dutchies! Stay right where you are! I want to have a little
+powwow with you before you go any farther.”
+
+Having said this, the astute Mr. Daniels, out of a vast experience
+gained while fighting Mexicans and outlaws in the dark, promptly lay
+down. In case the enemy should become rattled and fire at the sound of
+his voice he preferred to have plenty of room for the bullets to pass
+over him.
+
+“Who's there?” the lieutenant demanded in English; and by the firm,
+resolute voice the Texan knew that the German was not rattled and that
+his men would not fire unless he gave the word.
+
+“Great thing, this naval discipline!” Mr. Daniels soliloquized. Aloud he
+replied:
+
+“The fastest, straightest little wing shot with a six shooter that ever
+was, old-timer!”
+
+“What do you purpose doing, my friend?”
+
+“I purpose giving you some good advice; though whether you accept it or
+not is a matter of indifference to me. You will observe that this hold
+is in comparative darkness. I say comparative, because through the hatch
+space a certain amount of light is projected from the deck above, and
+you and your men are standing in that light, whereas I am in the dark. I
+can see you and you cannot see me. I have a forty-five caliber revolver
+in my hand and another in reserve. There are five of you fellows,
+constituting a fair target--and I seldom miss a fair target. I can kill
+all five of you in five seconds. Of course some of you may manage to
+fire at the flash of my gun and accidentally kill me; but--make no
+mistake about it, son--I'll get you and your gang before I kick the
+bucket. Now, then, which do you want to do--live or die? I'm going to
+be fair to you fellows and give you some choice in the matter--which is
+more than you did when you launched those two torpedoes at us. Speak up,
+brother! I'm a nervous man and dislike suspense.”
+
+The German lieutenant glanced at his men, who had not yet touched the
+other bombs and were looking stolidly at him for orders. He licked his
+lower lip and scowled, sighed gustily--and made a swift grab for his
+automatic. A streak of flame came out of the dark alleyway and the
+German's arm hung limp at his side. He had a bullet in his shoulder.
+
+“Told you I was a wing shot!” the plainsman cautioned him pleasantly.
+“I would have put that one through your heart if I didn't need an
+interpreter. I imagine these roustabouts with you only speak their
+mother tongue.”
+
+“What do you want me to do?”
+
+“Well, first, I want you to leave that high explosive right where it is.
+Then I want you to deposit all your sidearms on the floor, and have your
+men do likewise.”
+
+The German had had his lesson and arrived at the conclusion that valor
+without discretion is not good business. He slipped his belt off and let
+it drop to the floor; at a word from him his men did likewise, whereupon
+Daniels stood up, threw on the electric switch, and revealed himself and
+his artillery to the gaze of the invaders.
+
+“Forward; in a bunch, up the gangway!” he ordered.
+
+They obeyed. As the Texan passed the little heap of belts, with the
+automatics in the holsters attached, he gathered them up and followed.
+Just before the procession reached the main deck he halted them and
+whistled--whereupon Michael J. Murphy, Terence P. Reardon and Cappy
+Ricks came to the edge of the hatch and peered over.
+
+“Well, look who's here!” Cappy exclaimed maliciously. “Five nice little
+pirates, who would sink my _Narcissus_ without so much as a be-damned to
+you! Mike, bring the irons. Terence, my boy, restrain yourself. If you
+use that monkey wrench until I give the word the Blue Star Navigation
+Company will have a new port engineer. Undress these fellows. Just
+remove their caps and outer garments--and be quick about it.”
+
+“Tell them to molt--_muy pronto!_” Sam Daniels ordered the lieutenant,
+who relayed the order in a voice that had in it a suspicion of tears.
+
+In three minutes they were undressed and handcuffed together; leg irons
+were put on them, and they were expeditiously gagged and chained to a
+stanchion.
+
+“Now then, Terence, I have work for you and your monkey wrench,”
+ Cappy continued. “You're about the same size as this officer. Into his
+dungarees and uniform cap; and don't forget to slip on his belt, with
+the automatic.”
+
+“In two shakes av a lamb's tail, sor. What next?”
+
+“As you run down the gangway to the waiting boat, hold your handkerchief
+over that Irish mug of yours. Pretend you're blowing your nose. The man
+in the boat won't recognize you until you're on top of him.”
+
+“Wan little love tap--no more!” Terence breathed lovingly.
+
+“When Terence has tapped him, Sam,” Cappy continued, “you go down and
+help to get him out on the landing stage. He'll be off our hands there
+and the submarine people cannot see what's happened to him. They're
+still lying on our starboard beam.”
+
+Terence and the deadly Samuel disappeared, to return presently and
+report all well. Thereupon Michael J. Murphy retired to the port side of
+the house, lit a kerosene torch he had brought up from the engine room
+and waved it. He waited. Presently, in the gloom off to port, he saw
+the red and green side lights of the little cruiser. For a moment both
+lights were visible; then the master of the _Narcissus_, now in charge
+of the cruiser, ported his helm and showed his red only. Murphy waited,
+and presently both red and green showed again.
+
+“Starboard now, and show your green,” Murphy pleaded.
+
+The red went out and the green alone showed; so Mike Murphy extinguished
+his torch and rejoined Cappy Ricks, Terence and the ubiquitous Mr.
+Daniels.
+
+“Sam, my dear boy,” Cappy was saying as Murphy came up, “Mike and
+Terence own in the _Narcissus_ and they work for me--hence their
+alliance. You owe me no fealty--”
+
+“The hell I don't, Cap!” Sam retorted lightly. “You're a fine old sport,
+and I'm for you till the last dog is hung.”
+
+“Sam, I am deeply grateful. Your friendship is very dear to me indeed.
+I have a twenty-two-thousand acre ranch down in Monterey County,
+California--don't know why I bought it, unless it was because it was
+a bargain and ranch property in California is bound to increase in
+value--and you're my foreman if we ever get out of this with a whole
+skin. I'll make it the best job you ever had, Sam.”
+
+“Thank you, Mr. Ricks!” A moment before it had been Cap. “If you never
+saw a man fight for a good job before, just watch me!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV
+
+
+The horse tenders in the other holds were summoned and informed that for
+the present the _Narcissus_ would not be bombed. Quickly two of them,
+with Mike Murphy and Sam Daniels, donned the dungarees and caps of the
+prisoners and strapped on their belts containing the automatics in their
+holsters. In the interim Terence had descended to the collapsible boat
+bumping at the gangway and fended her off until Sam Daniels, the two
+cowboys and Mike Murphy joined him; whereupon Terence took one pair of
+oars, while Murphy handled the other, and the boat crept out from the
+steamer and headed directly for the submarine, which had been ratching
+backward and forward under a dead-slow bell, watching the towering black
+hulk of the _Narcissus_ rolling idly. A light showed on the turret of
+the submarine, outlining vaguely the figures of half a dozen men on her
+small deck.
+
+The disposition of Mike Murphy's forces was such that the chances of the
+enemy detecting the substitution of the boarding party before it should
+reach the submersible were reduced to a minimum. In the bow of the
+collapsible one of the cowboys sat, facing the stern; Terence and Mike
+also faced the stern, by reason of the fact that they were rowing; and
+Sam Daniels and the other cowboy, seated in the stern sheets, were under
+orders to turn and look back at the _Narcissus_ as the boat came within
+the radius of the meager light from the submarine's turret. Thus they
+ran little risk of premature discovery.
+
+“For,” as Cappy Ricks sagely reminded them just before they pulled away
+from the _Narcissus_, “the German is both cautious and cocksure. The
+capture of his bombing party has been effected without a sound; the
+commander saw our men leave the steamer in the boats; he sees the
+_Narcissus_ now not under command and wallowing; he figures that all is
+lovely and the goose honks high. Therefore, he will be off his guard,
+since his suspicions have not been roused. His deck is very dimly
+lighted by that single light on the turret, and he knows that light is
+sufficient to guide the boat party back to the submarine. There is no
+sea running to speak of; so it will not be necessary for him to turn his
+searchlight on you to light the way for you.
+
+“Moreover, he will not care to use his searchlight, because it may guide
+a patrol boat to this spot, and Terence has very carefully turned out
+all the lights on the ship which might be visible from a distance,
+because that is precisely what that lieutenant would or should have done
+if we had given him time. And when you row toward that submarine, row
+like the devil, because that's the way the bombing party would row in
+their hurry to board the submarine and steam clear of the explosion.
+It is my guess that the instant you heave alongside you will be snagged
+with boat hooks by the men on her deck. In the excitement of making a
+quick get-away nobody will be looking into your faces, anyhow; they'll
+see your familiar dungaree suits and caps; some of them may even give
+you a hand to help you when you leap aboard. Do not despise such help;
+just extend your left hands and before you let go the enemy's right bend
+your guns--and you, Terry, your monkey wrench--over their heads. You'll
+have the deck in a pig's whisper! Then, Mike, the rest is up to you.
+I've made the ball; now you fire it.
+
+“I take it the submarine will be in such a hurry to get away that all
+the men on her deck will reach down and snake the boat in; once out of
+danger, they'll plan on knocking that collapsible down and storing
+it away at their leisure. Tackle 'em while they're busy with the
+boat--provided you get aboard unsuspected. Terence, remember to shout
+the minute you go into action--and I'll give you fighting light.”
+
+Following these instructions, Cappy had very solemnly shaken hands all
+round and departed for the bridge, where he removed the canvas covering
+from the searchlight, bent the reflector toward the submarine, and
+waited, with his nervous old finger on the switch.
+
+In pursuance of Cappy Ricks' instructions, Mike Murphy and Terence
+Reardon rowed furiously toward the submarine--so furiously, indeed, that
+the harsh grating of their oars in the rowlocks apprised Captain Emil
+Bechtel of their approach some seconds before the boat was visible. At
+his brisk command the men on deck stepped down to the low pipe railing
+on the port side of the deck, prepared to snag the boat the instant she
+drew alongside. When he could hear the sound of the commander's voice,
+Mike Murphy chanced a quick look over his shoulder, noted the position
+of the submarine, and turned his head again.
+
+“Four more strokes, Terry; then ship your oars,” he cautioned the
+engineer in a low voice.
+
+At the fourth stroke Terence obediently shipped his oars; with a deft
+twist of one oar, Murphy straightened the boat and shot neatly in
+alongside the submarine, the deck of which was less than three feet
+above the water. As Cappy Ricks had anticipated, the men on that deck
+promptly snagged the boat at bow and stern with boat hooks--and on the
+instant Cappy Ricks' bully boys leaped for their prey.
+
+As luck would have it, Terence P. Reardon was the only one offered a
+helping hand--and he did not despise it; neither did he forget Cappy's
+last instructions. With neatness and ample force he brought his monkey
+wrench down on the German's skull; and then to Cappy Ricks, waiting
+on the bridge of the _Narcissus_, came the ancient Irish battlecry of
+_Faugh-a-ballagh!_ For the benefit of those not versed in the ways of
+the fighting Celt, be it known that _Faugh-a-ballagh_ means Clear the
+Road. And history records but few instances when Irish soldiery have
+raised that cry and rushed without clearing a pathway.
+
+The fight was too short and savage for description. Suffice it to say
+that not a shot was fired--the work was too close for that, for the
+surprise had been complete. Even before Cappy Ricks could focus the
+steamer's searchlight on the fracas, it was over. Terence P. Reardon got
+two in two strokes of his trusty monkey wrench; Sam Daniels and his
+two fellow-bronco-busters each laid open a German scalp with the long
+barrels of their forty-fives; and Michael J. Murphy, plain lunatic-crazy
+with rage, disdaining all but Nature's weapons, tied into the amazed
+Captain Emil Bechtel under the rules of the Longshoremen's Union--which
+is to state that Michael J. Murphy clinched Emil Bechtel, lifted him,
+set him down hard on his plump back, crawled him, knelt on his arms, and
+addressed him in these words:
+
+“Hah! (A right jab to the face.) You would, would you? (Left jab to
+face.) You pig-iron polisher! (Bending the nose back forcibly with the
+heel of his fist.) When I get (smash) through with your (smash) head
+(smash) it'll be long (smash) before you'll block (smash) your hat again
+(smash) on the Samson post, you--”
+
+“Out av me way, Michael, lad, till I get a kick at his slats!” crooned
+Terence P. Reardon, heaving alongside.
+
+“You gossoon! Take care of the scuttle; don't let them close it down,
+or they'll submerge and drown us. Leave this lad to me, I tell you. He's
+the captain, and why shouldn't he be killed by one of his own rank?”
+
+Thus rebuked, Terence curbed his blood-thirsty proclivities. Leaving
+his countryman to beat his devil's tattoo on the submarine commander,
+Terence leaped to the open scuttle just in time to bang another head as
+it appeared on a level with the deck.
+
+“Let that be a lesson to you!” he called as the unconscious man slid
+back down the companion into the interior of the vessel.
+
+Then he sat on the lid of the scuttle, poised his monkey wrench on high
+over the scuttle, and awaited developments, the while he tossed an order
+over his shoulder to Sam Daniels:
+
+“Bring me the bum!”
+
+“Which one?” Mr. Daniels queried.
+
+“The German bum, av coorse,” Terence retorted waspishly.
+
+“But all these bums are Germans--”
+
+“Not that kind av a bum!” howled Terence. “I mean the bum in the boat.”
+
+Thus enlightened, Sam brought a bomb from the boat and handed it to the
+engineer. In the interim Mike Murphy had polished off his man to his
+entire satisfaction and joined Terence at the scuttle, while one of the
+horse wranglers, a cool individual and a firm believer in safety first,
+collected the weapons from the fallen.
+
+Mike Murphy approached the scuttle and bawled down it to the amazed and
+puzzled crew below. As a linguist Mike was no great shakes, particularly
+when called upon to juggle German; but he was a resolute fellow and not
+afraid to do his best at all times. Consequently his hail took the form
+of “Hey! _Landsmann!_”
+
+Something told Terence Reardon that Michael was through; so he added his
+mite to the store and bellowed:
+
+“_Spreckels die deutsch,_ ye blackguards?”
+
+Then both sat back to await developments. Presently a voice at the foot
+of the companion said:
+
+“Hello dere! Vat iss?”
+
+“Vat iss? Hell iss! Dot's vat! Listen to me, you Dutchy. I'm the skipper
+of that horse transport your commander tried to sink without warning,
+and I'm in command of the deck of this craft, with the scuttle open; and
+you can't submerge and wash me off, either. When I give the word I
+want you and your men to come up, one at a time and no crowding. And if
+you're not up five minutes after I order you up I'll not wait; I'll
+set a bomb in your turret, back off in the small boat and kill with
+revolvers any man that tries to come up and see where the fuse is
+burning in order to put it out. Do you surrender, or would you rather
+die?”
+
+“Vait a minute und I find oud,” the German answered promptly.
+
+It required five minutes for a council of war below decks; then the
+interpreter came to the foot of the companion and informed Mike Murphy
+that, considering the circumstances, they had decided to live. In
+the interim the skipper of the _Narcissus_ had arrived, with
+re-enforcements, in the cruiser, and reported that his crew was getting
+back aboard the steamer as fast as possible and would have her under
+command again in a minute. At Murphy's order the unconscious Germans
+were put aboard the cruiser; later, when the remainder of the
+submersible's crew came up, one at a time, they were disarmed and lined
+up on the little deck; whereupon Michael J. Murphy addressed their
+spokesman thus:
+
+“Listen--you! It would be just like you to have set a time bomb
+somewhere in this submarine to blow her up after you were all safely out
+of her. If you did you made a grave tactical error. You're not going
+to leave her for quite a while yet. You're going to sit quietly here on
+deck, under guard, while the steamer hooks on to this submarine and tows
+her; and if my prize crew is blown up, remember, you--”
+
+The spokesman--he was the chief engineer, by the way--yelled “_Ach,
+Gott!_” and leaped for the scuttle. Mike Murphy followed him into the
+engine room in time to see him stamp out a long length of slow-burning
+fuse.
+
+“Any more?” Murphy queried.
+
+“Dot von vas sufficient, if it goes off,” the German answered simply.
+
+“All right!” Mike Murphy replied. “I'll take a chance and so will you.
+You'll stay aboard and run those oil engines.”
+
+Half an hour later with the submarine's crew safely under lock and key
+on the _Narcissus,_ the big freighter continued on her course, followed
+by the captured submarine, with Michael J. Murphy in her turret and a
+quartermaster from the _Narcissus_ at her helm. In the engine room her
+own engineer grudgingly explained to Terence P. Reardon the workings of
+an oil engine and the ramifications of the electric-light system--and
+during all of that period the deadly monkey wrench never left the port
+engineer's hand.
+
+Sam Daniels and his comrades were once more back aboard the _Narcissus,_
+attending to the horses; and Cappy Ricks, his heart so filled with pride
+that it was like to burst, occupied the submarine's turret with the
+doughty Michael J. For an hour they discussed the marvelous coup until
+there was no angle of it left undiscussed; whereupon fell a silence,
+with Michael J.'s eyes fixed on the dark bulk ahead that marked the
+_Narcissus_, and Cappy's thoughts on what Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner
+would say when they heard the glorious news.
+
+For nearly an hour not a word passed between the pair.
+
+Presently Cappy's regular breathing drew Murphy's attention to him. He
+had fallen asleep in his seat, his chin bent on his old breast, a little
+half-smile on his lips. And as Murphy looked at him pridefully Cappy
+spoke in his sleep:
+
+“Holy sailor! How Mike Murphy can swear!”
+
+Terence P. Reardon came to the foot of the little spiral staircase
+leading to the turret.
+
+“Michael, me lad,” he announced, “the internal-combustion ile ingin'
+is the marine ingin' av the future. They're as simple as two an' two is
+four. Listen, _avic!_ Does she not run like a twenty-four-jewel watch?
+An' this man that invinted thim was a Ger-r-man--more power to him!
+Faith, I'm thinkin' if the Ger-r-mans were as great in war as they are
+in peace 'twould need more nor the Irish to take the measure av thim!”
+
+“Irish?” Mike Murphy answered irritably. “Terence, quit your bragging!
+God knows the Irish are great--”
+
+“The greatest in the wide, wide wur-rld!” Terence declared, with all the
+egotism of his race.
+
+“Whist, Terry! There's a little old Yankee man aboard; if you wake him
+up he'll call you a liar.”
+
+“The darlin' ould fox!” Terry murmured affectionately, and went back to
+his engines.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LV
+
+
+The entire office force of the Blue Star Navigation Company and the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company had assembled in the general office to
+greet Cappy Ricks, Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon upon their return
+from Europe, and to hear at first hand the story of their wanderings and
+adventures. And when the wondrous tale had been told, and business was
+once more resumed, Matt Peasley, Mr. Skinner, Mike and Terence convened
+in Cappy Ricks' office for further discussion.
+
+“We sent that half million dollars to New York to be transferred to the
+credit of the French Government when the bill of sale for that steamer
+should be deposited with the bank there,” Matt remarked presently. “What
+kind of a vessel did you buy, Cappy? What are her dimensions?”
+
+“What kind of a ship did I buy?” Cappy piped. “Hum-m-m! A ship is good.
+I bought four; and--believe me!--they're no skiffs, either. All of them
+are big foreign-going steel tramps, with lots of speed and power.”
+
+“Four for half a million dollars?” Matt Peasley cried unbelievingly.
+
+“They would have cost anybody else a million and a half; but--er--well,
+you see, Matt, I had a stand-in with the right people. The four vessels
+I bought were all prizes of war--German merchantmen converted into
+commerce raiders, which had slipped through the cordon of British
+cruisers and got into the North Atlantic, where French cruisers
+overhauled them and brought them into port. They were all there and up
+for sale to the highest bidder when we got there with the horses and our
+captured submarine.
+
+“I bid half a million for the lot, which is probably about half of
+what it cost to build them; and there was a Frenchman and an Englishman
+bidding against me. They each had me topped, and the vessels
+were knocked down to the Frenchman; but when he found I was a
+competitor--that I was Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks--that's what
+they called me, Matt--in command of the party that captured a German
+submarine, intact and without the loss of a single man on either
+side-say, Matt, the stuff was all off!
+
+“He and the Englishman went into a conference; and the result was, the
+Frenchman ran out on his bid and forfeited his ten-per-cent certified
+check. That left the Englishman the next highest bidder; and he ran out
+on his bid and left the ships to me! Then the Englishman shook hands
+with me and the Frenchman kissed me. I thought the least I could do was
+to make good to them on the earnest money they had forfeited, and they
+accepted it. Then the President of France heard about it and came down
+to Brest to see me; and he kissed me, too, and gave me the Officers'
+Cross of the Legion of Honor. I didn't tell him I was just a private
+in the ranks. Oh, no! Nothing doing. I was introduced as Monsieur le
+Capitaine Ricks--and that settled it. I was an officer, for all my
+courtesy title; and I took the Cross, because I was prouder than Punch
+to have it.
+
+“Then the Chamber of Deputies met and voted the Frenchman and the
+Englishman back their forfeited earnest money; and they gave me back
+my checks, and I wrote new ones for the same amount and split the swag
+fifty-fifty between the two nations for the care of their wounded.
+Then I gave a dinner aboard the submarine, and President Poincare was
+present. I presented the submarine, with the compliments of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, to the Republic of France, and the President
+accepted, all hands went out on deck and we cracked a bottle of
+champagne over that submersible's bows and rechristened her.”
+
+“What name?” Matt and Skinner chorused.
+
+“The Shamrock--out of compliment to Mike and Terence.”
+
+“Fine!” Matt cried. “Then what?”
+
+“Nothing, Matt. Our business was finished and I was anxious to get
+back on the job; so we engaged skippers and crews to bring our four
+freighters to New York, and came home.
+
+“Better step lively, boy, and dig up some business for them! Mike will
+give you the data on their tonnage.”
+
+Matt drew Mike Murphy aside.
+
+“Tell me, Mike,” he whispered, “did the old man get soused at that
+dinner aboard the _Shamrock?_”
+
+“Look here, Matt,” Murphy answered; “what Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks
+does outside of office hours is none of my business--or yours, either.
+And if you don't like that answer help yourself to a new port captain.
+I'm not telling everything I know, Matt.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVI
+
+
+On the morning of April 3, 1917, Cappy Ricks came down to his office,
+spread a newspaper on his desk and carefully cut from it the war address
+of President Wilson to Congress, made the night before. This clipping
+the old gentleman folded carefully; he placed it in an envelope, sealed
+it and wrote across the face of the envelope: “Property of Alden Matthew
+Peasley.” Then he summoned Mr. Skinner, president of the Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company.
+
+“Skinner, my dear boy,” he began, “have you read the President's Message
+to Congress?”
+
+“I have,” replied Skinner.
+
+“I guess that President of ours isn't some tabasco, eh? By the Holy
+Pink-Toed Prophet, he's just naturally read Bill Hohenzollern out of the
+party. Bully for Woodrow!”
+
+Mr. Skinner's calm cold features refused to thaw, however, under the
+heat of his employer's enthusiasm, seeing which Cappy slid out to the
+edge of his chair and gazed contemplatively at Skinner over the rims
+of his spectacles. “Hum-m-m!” he said. The very tempo of that
+throat-clearing should have warned Mr. Skinner that he was treading on
+thin ice, but with his usual complacence he ignored the storm signal,
+for his mind was upon private, not public affairs.
+
+“I'm offered the old barkentine _C. D. Bryant_ for a cargo of redwood to
+Sydney,” he began. “The freight rate is two hundred and twenty shillings
+per thousand feet, but the _Bryant_ is so old and rotten I can't get any
+insurance on the cargo if I ship by her. I'm just wondering if--”
+
+“Haramph-h-h! Ahem-m-m!”
+
+“--it's worth while taking a chance to move that foreign order.”
+
+“Skinner!” Cappy almost shouted.
+
+Mr. Skinner looked at him, startled.
+
+“How can you think and talk of old barkentines and non-insurable foreign
+cargoes at this crisis in our country's history?” the autocrat of the
+numerous Ricks corporations shrilled furiously. “Dad burn your picture,
+Skinner, are you human? Don't you ever get a thrill from reading a
+document like this?”--and he tapped the envelope containing the press
+clipping. “What kind of juice runs in your arteries, anyhow? Red blood
+or buttermilk? Is your soul so dog-goned dead, crushed under the weight
+of dollars, that you have failed to realize this document is destined to
+go down in history side by side with Lincoln's Gettysburg speech? I'll
+bet you don't know the Gettysburg speech. Bet you never heard of it!”
+
+“Oh, nonsense, Mr. Ricks,” Skinner retorted suavely. “Pray do not excite
+yourself. Suppose war does impend? Is that any reason why I should
+neglect business?”
+
+“Of course it is, you gibbering jackdaw! I feel like setting fire to the
+building, just to celebrate. Can't you step into my office on a day like
+this and discuss the country and her affairs for five minutes, just to
+prove you're an American citizen? Can't you rejoice with me over these
+lofty, noble sentiments--”
+
+“Words, words, empty words,” warned Mr. Skinner, always a reactionary
+Republican.
+
+“Skinner,” said Cappy with deadly calm, “one more disloyal peep out of
+you and I shall have no alternative save to request your resignation. I
+think you're a pacifist at heart, anyhow!”
+
+“Huh,” snorted Skinner. “You've changed your tune, haven't you? Who
+trotted up and down California Street last fall, soliciting campaign
+contributions for the Republican nominee from the lumber and shipping
+interests? Wasn't it Alden P. Ricks? Who thought the country was going
+to wrack and ruin--”
+
+“That was last fall,” Cappy interrupted shrilly. “We live and
+learn--that is, some of us do,” he added significantly. “Never mind
+about my politics last fall; just remember I haven't any this spring.
+I'm an American citizen, and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, some German
+or Germans will find it out before I'm gathered to the bosom of Abraham.
+I have a right to disapprove of my President if I feel like it, but I'll
+be shot if I'll let anybody else pick on him.” And Cappy shook his head
+emphatically several times like a squinch-owl.
+
+“Oh, I'm for him, now that we're committed to this war,” Skinner
+declared in an effort to soothe the old man.
+
+“Sure! We're locking the stable door after the horse has been stolen. If
+we'd been for him when the _Lusitania_ was sunk instead of being divided
+in our opinions and swayed in our judgment by a lot of hysterical
+pacifists and German propagandists we'd have been into the war long
+ago and saved millions of human lives; we'd have had the war won.” He
+sighed.
+
+“What a prime lot of jackasses we Americans are!” he continued. “We talk
+of liberty and demand license; we prate of democracy and we're a nation
+of snobs!”
+
+“You wanted to see me about something,” Skinner reminded him.
+
+“Ah, yes; I was forgetting. This envelope, Skinner, contains the
+President's address. Take it and put it in the vault, and when my
+grandson is twelve years old give that press clipping to his mother and
+tell her I said she was to read it to the boy and make him learn it
+by heart. I won't be on hand to do the Americanizing of that youngster
+myself, and most likely Matt Peasley will be too busy to think much
+about it, so I'm taking no chances. You rile me to beat the band
+sometimes, Skinner, but I'll say this much in your favor: I have never
+known you to forget anything.”
+
+“Thank you, sir.”
+
+Mr. Skinner took the envelope and departed, and Cappy rang for a
+stenographer.
+
+“Take a telegram, fast day message,” he barked: “'His Excellency, The
+President, White House, Washington, D. C. Dear Mister President: I did
+not vote for you last fall, but your address of last night makes
+me ashamed that I did not. I am controlling owner of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, operating a fleet of fifty vessels of various kinds,
+twelve of which are foreign-going steam freighters. Am also controlling
+owner of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, cutting a million feet of
+lumber daily. Everything I control, every dollar I possess, is at the
+service of my country. God bless you, sir! Alden P. Ricks.'
+
+“That sounds sloppy, but it's the way I feel,” Cappy declared. “When
+a man has a big heart-breaking job to do and a lot of Philistines are
+knocking him, maybe it helps him to retain his faith in humankind to
+have some fellow grow sincerely sloppy and slip a telegraphic cheer in
+with the hoots. Besides, if I didn't let off steam today I'd swell up
+and bust myself all over the office--”
+
+The door opened and Mr. Terence P. Reardon, port engineer of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, entered. Mr. Reardon's right eye was in deep
+mourning and at no very remote period something--presumably a fist--had
+shifted his nose slightly to starboard; indeed, even as he entered
+Cappy's office a globule of the rich red Reardon blood trembled in each
+of the port engineer's nostrils. His knuckles were slightly skinned and
+the light of battle blazed in his black eyes.
+
+“Terence, my dear, dear fellow,” murmured the horrified Cappy, “you look
+as if you had been fed into a concrete mixer. Have you been fighting?”
+
+“Well, sor,” Mr. Reardon replied in his deep Kerry brogue, “ye might
+call it that for lack of somethin' more expressive. I've just fired the
+chief engineer o' the _Tillicum.”_
+
+“Mr. Denicke? Why, Terry, he's a first-rate engineer. I'm amazed. He was
+with us ten years before you entered the employ--worked up from oiler;
+in fact, I must have an explanation of your action in this case,
+Terence.”
+
+“He called the President a nut. I fired him for that. Then he said the
+Kaiser was the greatest single force for civilization that ever was, an'
+wit' that I gave him a lift under the lug an' we wint at it. He's in
+the Harbor Receivin' Hospital this minute, an' I'm here to tell ye,
+sor, wit' all respect, that if ye don't like the way I've treated that
+Dutchman ye can get yerself a new port ingineer, for I'll quit, an'
+that's somethin' I'm not wishful to do.”
+
+Quite calmly Cappy Ricks pressed the buzzer on his desk. The cashier of
+the Blue Star Navigation Company entered. “Son,” said Cappy, “hereafter,
+when making out Mr. Reardon's pay check, tack onto it twenty-five
+dollars extra each month. That is all.”
+
+“Thank you, sor,” murmured Mr. Reardon, quite overcome.
+
+“Get out!” cried Cappy. “You're a vision of sudden death. Go wash
+yourself.”
+
+As Mr. Reardon took his departure Cappy sighed. “If Skinner only had a
+set of works like that port engineer!” he murmured. “If he only had!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII
+
+
+It will be recalled that war with Germany was declared on Good Friday.
+Bright and early on Saturday morning Cappy Ricks arrived at his office
+and immediately summoned Mr. Skinner.
+
+“Skinner, my dear boy,” he chirped, “'the tumult and the shouting dies.
+We're down to brass tacks--at last; and now is time for all good men and
+true to come to the aid of the party. I'm too old to bear arms, and when
+I was young enough bantam battalions weren't fashionable; nevertheless,
+I am enlisting for the war, and I start in this morning to do my part. I
+won't wear any uniform, but believe me, Skinner, I'm the little corporal
+who's going to mobilize the Blue Star Navigation Company and the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, together with all and sundry of their
+subsidiary corporations. I'm starting with you, Skinner. Are you
+figuring on enlisting?”
+
+“Certainly not, sir. I'm forty-three years old, married--”
+
+“No excuses necessary, Skinner. Even if you had planned to enlist I
+would have forbidden the banns. You'd make a bird of a paymaster or
+quartermaster, but as an enlisted man--well, the other bad soldier boys
+would toss you in a blanket. So I'll assign you to a job in civil life.
+Skinner, what do you know about aeroplanes?”
+
+“Absolutely nothing, except that they fly.”
+
+“Then learn something! Skinner, the ideal wood for aeroplane
+construction is clear Pacific Coast spruce. I've been reading up on the
+subject. Inasmuch as this war must be won in the air, you can imagine
+the number of aeroplanes the country must turn out in the next eighteen
+months. Stu-pen-dous, Skinner, simply stu-pen-dous! Try to visualize
+the wastage alone in the aeroplanes on the battle fronts; consider the
+thousands of seaplanes that will scour the Atlantic on the lookout
+for submarines, and then ask yourself, Skinner, what the devil those
+overworked army and navy officers in Washington are going to do about
+laying in a supply of clear Pacific Coast spruce before these pirates of
+lumbermen get next and boost the price clear out of sight. Skinner, what
+is clear spruce worth at the Northern mills today?”
+
+“About fifty-five dollars per thousand, sir. For years clear spruce
+never rose in price beyond thirty-five dollars, but purchases by the
+British Government have shot the price up during the past year.”
+
+“Exactly! And purchases by the United States Government will shoot the
+price up to a hundred and fifty dollars a thousand if you and I don't
+get busy. Now then, Skinner, listen to me! We have a couple of thousand
+acres of wonderful spruce timber adjacent to our fir holdings at
+Port Hadlock, Washington. Wire the mill manager to swamp in a logging
+railroad to that spruce timber, put in logging camps and concentrate
+on spruce. The clear stock we'll sell to the Government, and the lower
+grades will be snapped up by the box factories.”
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded his comprehension of the order and Cappy continued:
+“Wire our mill managers at Astoria, Oregon and Eureka, California,
+to log out all the spruce they come across among the fir. As for
+you, Skinner, accept no more orders for clear spruce from our regular
+customers, and go easy on accepting orders for any kind of lumber
+from our Eastern customers. All those car shipments must be made up of
+kiln-dried stock, and we'll want most of the space in our dry kilns to
+cook this clear green spruce for Uncle Sam, because he's going to want
+it in a hurry, and if he can't get it when he wants it--why, chaos has
+come again and all hell's let loose!”
+
+“What price do you propose charging the Government for this clear
+spruce?” the cautious Skinner queried. He owned a little stock in the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company and already he had a vision of an extra
+dividend.
+
+“Absolute cost plus ten per cent,” replied Cappy promptly. “No excess
+profits at the expense of the country at war, Skinner.”
+
+He gazed upon Skinner contemplatively for several seconds. “And mind you
+don't figure the cost too liberally,” he warned him.
+
+“Very well, sir. Is that all?”
+
+“Not by a jugful! You scatter round the market and buy up every stick
+of clear two-inch spruce sawed and on hand at the Northern mills. Buy
+at the market, but do not hesitate to go five dollars over the market if
+necessary to get the stock. Then place orders for all the clear spruce
+the mills can cut and deliver within the next six months, and we'll have
+the market hog tied.
+
+“Got to do it, Skinner. I tell you there isn't a whole lot of difference
+between a lumberman and a manufacturer or a food speculator. When he
+gets the public foul, doesn't the public pay through the nose? Haven't
+we been doing it ourselves in the matter of ship freights? But we must
+reform, Skinner, we must reform and get down to a cooperative basis,
+no matter how great the agony. On this spruce deal alone, for instance,
+we'll save the Government a couple of million dollars. See if we don't.”
+
+“We're entitled to a liberal profit,” Mr. Skinner protested. “If--”
+
+“No ifs, buts or ands! Obey orders! About the time we have the market on
+clear spruce well cornered the lumbermen's boys will be in the army
+and the lumbermen themselves will have begun to realize that they must
+sacrifice something for their country. And once we're sane we'll be able
+to work hand in glove with the Government. The United States of America
+has been money-mad for a long time, Skinner, but this war is going
+to spiritualize us and show us that there's a lot more in life than
+dollar-chasing. Hop to your job, P. D. Q., Skinner, my boy; and as you
+pass out send Captain Matt Peasley in to me.”
+
+Matt Peasley came smilingly into his father-in-law's office. “Well,
+Cappy,” he hailed the old gentleman, “I understand you've come out of
+your retirement.”
+
+“You're damned whistling, I have!” Cappy rejoined. “Something doing,
+boy, something for everybody! Have they told you about it in the general
+office?”
+
+“Told me about what?”
+
+“About the President asking me if I would cooperate with him to the
+extent of serving as the Pacific Coast member of the Shipping Board?
+I guess that isn't some honor, eh? How the devil he ever dug up an old
+fossil like me is a mystery. I wired him, advising that he appoint a
+younger man, but he replied that he knew I was the livest shipping man
+in the country and an American through and through. So, of course, Matt,
+I have accepted.”
+
+“Your forty odd years' experience will be of inestimable value to the
+country in this emergency,” Matt declared heartily. “I'm proud of you.”
+
+“Thank you, son. Now then, Matt, to business! The Government's going to
+need every one of our ships that can run foreign.” Matt nodded. “Very
+well, then,” Cappy continued; “as fast as their present charters lapse,
+decline to recharter except for single trips. We must go on a war
+basis and be prepared to turn our ships over to the Government on short
+notice. I'll be too busy to keep my eye on the details of the Blue
+Star's transactions with the Government, so I'll give you a straight tip
+now--I want no gouging. Remember that, Matthew, my son.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII
+
+
+The following day Cappy had a call from Sam Daniels.
+
+“Hello, Sam,” Cappy greeted his lanky ranch manager. “What brings you
+up to town? Not that I'm not glad to see you, for I was on the point of
+writing you on some matters that had occurred to me.”
+
+“I've come up to resign my job,” Daniels declared humbly.
+
+“Resign the best job you've ever had, Sam!” Cappy was amazed.
+
+“To resign the best job I ever will have, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+Mr. Daniels hitched his chair close to his employer's desk. “Boss,” he
+said, “I'm awful sorry, but I'm goin' soldiering.”
+
+Cappy Ricks sprang to his feet with an oath. “You're not!” he shouted.
+“I won't hear of it. You're too valuable a man to go into the army and
+get yourself killed--particularly since you can do your share at
+home. Why, I was just going to write you and give you your orders for
+patriotic duty. You go back to the ranch, Sam, and get busy. Plant
+spuds, wheat, oats, barley, corn--plant all you can of it. Raise
+heifers, sheep, hogs, cows, bulls, calves, turkeys--everything that can
+be eaten. Raise horses--and in particular, raise mules.”
+
+“I'd rather raise hell with a bunch of Germans,” Sam Daniels declared
+feelingly.
+
+“Your job is to help produce cereals and canned beef for the
+hell-raisers,” Cappy declared. “The army will want horses for the
+artillery and mules for the transport. Why, this war may last for years.
+Sam, you infernal scoundrel, you get back on the farm. You're forty-five
+years old and you've been shot and whittled enough in your day to last
+you the remainder of your natural life. Let the young fellows do the
+fighting abroad, while you and I and the other hasbeens do it at home.”
+
+“I'd a heap rather lay off in the brush somewheres an' snipe Germans,”
+ Mr. Daniels pleaded. “On the level, boss, if they'll give me a
+Springfield rifle with telescopic sights I'll guarantee to sicken
+anythin' I get a fair sight on at a thousand yards.”
+
+“In-fer-nal scoundrel! How dare you argue with me! You get back on your
+job!”
+
+“Boss, I'm going into the army,” Daniels announced sadly, but
+nevertheless firmly. “I'm givin' you a month's notice so you can get a
+man to take my place.”
+
+Cappy surrendered. “All right, Sam. If you survive, your job will be
+waiting for you when you get back. However, you needn't give me any
+notice. I'll have another man in charge of the ranch to-morrow, and you
+can enlist today.”
+
+“And you're not sore at me, Mr. Ricks?”
+
+“Sam, I'm proud of you. Wish I were young enough to go it with you. Are
+you in a hurry to get to France?”
+
+“Certainly am.”
+
+“Then join the marines. They always go first. Good-bye, Sam. Good luck
+to you and God bless you! Draw your wages as you go out and tell the
+cashier I said to give you an extra month's wages for tobacco money.”
+
+Mr. Daniels withdrew, visibly filled with emotion. Ten minutes later
+Cappy Ricks, watching at his office window, saw Mr. Daniels cross the
+street and enter the marines' recruiting office. Immediately Cappy
+called that recruiting office on the telephone and asked for the doctor.
+
+“Look here, doctor!” he said. “In a few minutes a lanky, battle scarred
+rancher is coming in to be examined. I don't want him to enlist. He's
+my ranch manager and worth more to the country in his job than at the
+Front. You turn him down physically, doctor, and I'll guarantee to
+send you five fine recruits instead of that old fossil. His name is Sam
+Daniels, and I'm Alden P. Ricks, of the Blue Star Navigation Company,
+across the street.”
+
+“We need an automobile to send our recruiting sergeant out through the
+state,” the wary medico replied. “Now, if you could loan us one--”
+
+“I'll have my own car and chauffeur over in half an hour, and you keep
+him as long as you need him,” Cappy piped. “Only tell Sam Daniels he's
+faltering on the brink of the grave and send him back to me.”
+
+An hour later Mr. Daniels slouched into Cappy Ricks' office. “Well,
+Private Daniels,” the old man saluted him, “you look downcast. Has
+something slipped?”
+
+“I should say it has. The doc over to the recruitin' office says I got a
+heart murmur from smoking cigarettes, which it's a cinch the excitement
+o' battle brings on death from heart failure, an' then folks would say I
+died o' fright.”
+
+“He's crazy Sam! Tell him to go chase himself.”
+
+“I guess he's right, Mr. Ricks. He 'most cried to let me go, an' was for
+waivin' the heart murmur, but it seems I got a floatin' kidney, an' flat
+feet. Gosh, I never knew I had flat feet, but then I've rid horses all
+my life an' ain't never hiked none to speak of.”
+
+He was silent several minutes, studying the pattern of the office
+carpet. Presently he looked up. “Is my successor at the ranch already
+appointed?” he queried.
+
+“Go back to the fields and the kind-faced cows, Samuel,” quoth Cappy
+gently. “Hurry, or you'll miss the train.”
+
+Sam Daniels fled, and hard on his heels came Mrs. Michael J. Murphy,
+_nee_ Miss Keenan. It will be recalled that prior to her happy alliance
+with Michael J. Murphy, Mrs. Murphy had been Cappy Ricks' favorite
+stenographer. He received her cordially.
+
+“Now then, what's gone wrong, my dear?” he demanded. “Have you and Mike
+been making a hash of your married life that you should come in here on
+the verge of tears?”
+
+Mrs. Murphy blinked away a tear or two and sat down. “Some of the boys
+in the office will be enlisting, Mr. Ricks,” she faltered. “I wonder
+if there might be a vacancy for me--if I might not have my old position
+back?”
+
+Cappy Ricks was genuinely concerned. “Why, Mike won't let you earn your
+living,” he declared. “Why do you make such an extraordinary request?”
+
+“For Mike's sake, Mr. Ricks. Of late he has been very nervous and
+distrait; scarcely touches his meals, and thinks, talks and dreams of
+war. Last night he dreamed he was back in the navy and shouted out an
+order that woke him up.”
+
+“Come to think of it, I believe Mike did spend several years in the navy
+prior to going into mercantile marine,” Cappy observed. “So he has the
+war fever again, eh? Wants to go back?”
+
+“Ever since he received a letter from the Navy League. They're searching
+out all the old navy men--gun pointers particularly--and asking them to
+come back to help train the young fellows just coming into the service.
+Mike was a gun pointer--”
+
+“Well, what in thunder is he hesitating for?” Cappy piped wrathfully.
+
+“About me. Mike's married to me, you know, and he worries about
+what will happen to me if he should be killed. He knows I'll be
+broken-hearted if he enlists--he's afraid I'll not let him go. But if I
+got my job back and was self-supporting, Mike's conscience would be--”
+
+“Do you want him to go?”
+
+“No, Mr. Ricks, but he must go. I do not want to make a coward or a
+slacker out of Mike. I've got to do my part, you know.”
+
+“My dear,” said Cappy feelingly, “you're a noble woman. Go back and
+attend to your little home; Mike may go whenever he's ready and his
+salary with the Blue Star will go on while he is in the navy; his job
+will be waiting for him when he comes back. Good old Mike! How dreadful
+a crime to hobble that Irishman with a first-class fight in sight.”
+
+When Mrs. Mike had left the office Cappy stiffened out suddenly in
+his chair, clenched his fists and closed his eyes, as if in pain. And
+presently between the wrinkled old lids two tears crept forth. Poor
+Cappy! He was finding it very, very hard to be old and little and out
+of the fight, for in every war in which the United States had engaged
+representatives of the tribe of Ricks had gladly offered their bodies
+for the supreme sacrifice, and as Cappy's active mind ran down the long
+and bloody list his heart swelled with anguish in the knowledge that
+he was doomed to play an inglorious part in the war with Germany. Mr.
+Skinner coming in with a letter to Cappy, observed the old man's emotion
+and asked him if he was ill.
+
+“Yes, Skinner, I am,” he replied. “I'm sick at heart. God has given
+me everything I ever wanted except six big strapping sons. Just think,
+Skinner, what a glorious honor would be mine if I had six fine boys to
+give to my country.” His old lips trembled. “And you could bank on the
+Ricks boys,” he added. “My boys would never wait to be drafted. No,
+sir-ree! When they heard the call they'd answer, like their ancestors.
+
+“Skinner, what has come over our boys of this generation? Why don't they
+volunteer? Why does the President have to beg for men? Has the soul
+of the idealist been corroded by a life of ease? Did the spirit of
+adventure die with our forefathers? Is it any harder to die just because
+war has become more terrible--more deadly? Oh, Skinner, Skinner! To be
+young and tall and strong and whirled in the cycle of vast events--to
+play a man's part in a glorious undertaking--to feel that I have
+enriched the world with my efforts, however humble, or with my body
+revitalized the soil made fallow by a ravishing monster. I feel,
+Skinner--I feel so much and can do so little.”
+
+Nevertheless, he did do something that very afternoon. One after the
+other he examined all the young men in his employ, discovered which of
+them could afford the luxury of enlisting and then asked them bluntly
+whether they were going to enlist. Three of them said they were, and
+Cappy promised each of them a month's salary the day he should report to
+him in uniform. Nine others appeared to be uncertain of their duty,
+so Cappy fired them all, to the great distress of Mr. Skinner and Matt
+Peasley. Cappy, however, turned a deaf ear to their remonstrances.
+
+“A man who won't fight for his country is no good,” he declared; “and I
+won't keep a no-good son of a slacker on my pay roll. Get married men
+or men who have been rejected for military service to take the places of
+these bums who haven't courage enough even to try to enlist.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX
+
+
+The campaign for the Liberty bonds brought Cappy an appointment from
+the mayor as captain of a corps of volunteer bond salesmen to work
+the wholesale lumber and shipping trade, and for three weeks the old
+gentleman was as busy as the proverbial one-armed paper hanger with
+the itch. He was obsessed with a fear that the bond issue would be
+under-subscribed by about a billion and a half and result in the
+United States of America being accorded a hearty Teutonic horse laugh.
+Consequently he made five separate subscriptions on his own account, and
+just before the lists closed on the last day he was again overcome with
+apprehension and subscribed for an additional ten thousand dollars'
+worth for his grandson! When the result of the Liberty-bond campaign was
+made known he almost wept with joy and gave a wonderful dinner to his
+corps of salesmen, after which he went down to his ranch to rest for a
+week and see what Sam Daniels was up to.
+
+The morning he returned to town, prepared to leap, heart and soul into
+the hundred-million-dollar Red Cross drive, he had a visit from his port
+captain, Michael J. Murphy.
+
+“Well, sir,” Murphy announced, “I've cleaned up all the little details
+in my department, your new port captain is on the job, and I'm about to
+go over to the naval training station on Goat Island and hold up my hand
+again. But before I go, sir, I want to express to you something of what
+I feel for what you've done for me and mine.”
+
+“Tut, tut. Not another peep out of you, sir!” Cappy commanded. To be
+thanked for anything always made him feel uncomfortable. “What branch of
+the service do you hope to get into, Mike?”
+
+“I want to get aboard a destroyer, sir, though they're the divil an' all
+to live aboard. They offer the best chance for action. Patrolling the
+submarine zone, you know.”
+
+“Gosh,” Cappy groaned; “everybody's got the submarines on the brain,
+and I'm tagging along with the rest. Mike, I swear I can't sleep nights,
+thinking of this war. It breaks my heart to realize I'm out of it. And
+because I'm a shipping man, naturally my fool brain runs to submarines
+and how to control them. Mike, I have a great yearning to sink a
+submarine; the screams of those scoundrels aboard her would be music to
+my ears.”
+
+“It's a serious problem,” Murphy declared soberly; “but I'm hoping our
+Yankee ingenuity will solve it.”
+
+“Well, we haven't done it to date, and in the meantime all the nut
+inventors in the world are sending their nut ideas in to the National
+Council of Defense. Of course I have a bright idea too. I'm a great hand
+at hatching cute schemes, you know. However, I differ from the average
+submarine nut in this--that I want to try out my theory in practice
+before submitting it to an expectant world. Still, I'd need you to
+help me; and now that you're going into the navy I suppose I'll have to
+forget it.”
+
+“I seem to remember a scheme of yours that resulted in the capture of
+a submarine last year,” Murphy reminded the old man. “That was a bully
+scheme, and I'm willing to wager that the head which produced it
+can produce another just as good. Tell me your plan for eliminating
+submarines, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“My scheme doesn't contemplate a continuous performance,” Cappy hastened
+to explain, “but it might work out once or twice--and in this great
+international emergency anything is worth trying once. I could
+demonstrate my theory in about two months--with your help.”
+
+“Then,” declared Michael J. Murphy, “I'll wait until you give the
+demonstration before enlisting in the navy.”
+
+“Bully for you, Mike! I'll declare Terry Reardon in on the experiment
+also, for the reason that one of the ingredients required is a chief
+engineer with courage to spare. Now then, for my scheme: Do you know the
+_Costa Rica?_”
+
+“That old steamer that used to run to Panama for the Pacific Mail?”
+
+“The same.”
+
+“What about her?”
+
+“She's in the bone yard--laid up for keeps, Mike. Her plates are so
+thin and soft the least jar would punch a hole in her; she's wrecked
+and strained from fifty years of service; her engines are worn out, her
+boilers are burned out, her gear is antiquated, and even in these
+times of abnormal freight rates she's too far gone to patch up and
+keep running. They kicked her up in the mud of Oakland Inner Harbor
+yesterday, and there she'll be stripped of everything of value and left
+to rot. My plan, Mike, is to buy the old _Costa Rica_ for a couple of
+thousand dollars, turn Terence Reardon and his gang loose on her engines
+and boilers for a couple of weeks and take the old coffin out for one
+final voyage. She can make eight or nine knots in good weather, and if
+she's torpedoed the loss will be trifling. Will you run the risk and
+take her out for me, Mike?”
+
+“Yes, sir. What for?”
+
+“As a decoy.”
+
+“I don't understand.”
+
+“We'll put a hand-picked crew aboard her, Mike; we'll arm her fore and
+aft with six-inch guns, which we can readily get from the navy now
+that it's the fashion to arm merchantmen; and then go cruising in the
+submarine zone. You can pick up a few old navy men for a gun crew and
+train some of the Costa Rica's crew, can't you?”
+
+“If we can get somebody to give me the range and manage to get the
+gun loaded somehow, I'll do the gun pointing; with half a chance I'll
+guarantee results.”
+
+“And that is exactly what I plan to give you--half a chance,” Cappy
+declared enthusiastically. “The Costa Rica isn't worth two hoots in a
+hollow, but she still looks enough like a steamer to attract submarines;
+and during this fine summer weather we can chance a final voyage with
+the old wreck.”
+
+“Where do you get this 'we' stuff, Mr. Ricks?” Mike Murphy queried
+bluntly. “You're not figuring on going to sea in that coffin, are you?”
+
+“I most certainly am so figuring. I take my fun where I find it, Mike,
+and if I'm to plan and pay for this experiment--then, by gravy, I'm
+going to be on deck to watch it work out if it's the last act of my
+sinful career.”
+
+“But if they fire on us you may be killed.”
+
+“We'll be firm' back at 'em, won't we? And if I'm killed in action,
+won't that be a fitting finish for a Ricks?”
+
+“We may be afloat in an open boat for a week. I don't want you to die of
+exposure, sir.”
+
+“Forget it, Mike! I've been charged off to profit and loss for so many
+years it makes me ill to think of them. And you remember, my dear Mike,
+
+   _“'To every man upon this earth
+    Death cometh soon or late;
+    And how can man die better
+    Than facing fearful odds
+    For the ashes of his fathers
+    And the temples of his gods?'_
+
+Don't argue with me, Mike. My mind is quite made up. I'm going
+into action in this war, for, as I said before, I'll try anything
+once--particularly when it isn't very expensive and I can afford the
+luxury. We're going to buy the _Costa Rica_, take her into the submarine
+zone and lose her, but, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, we'll take a
+submarine with us!”
+
+“Not if the German sees us first.”
+
+Cappy leaned forward and laid his index finger impressively on Michael
+J. Murphy's knee. “That's the only way we can hope to win,” he declared.
+“We must make certain the submarine sees us first. Mike, a German is a
+rabid disciple of law and order; anything out of the usual run of things
+upsets him terribly; he never makes allowance for the unexpected or for
+the other fellow's point of view. To be more exact, Mike, I figure
+that German psychology is the only kind of psychology a German can
+understand. And to tell you the truth, Mike,” he added musingly, “there
+are blamed few people who can understand mine.”
+
+Michael J. Murphy nodded a vigorous indorsement to this last remark, and
+Cappy went on: “Do you think any proud and arrogant skipper of a German
+submarine would ever suspect an American citizen of such a harebrained
+scheme as the sending out of a rusty, creaking old rattletrap of a
+steamer that can't get out of her own way, for the avowed purpose of
+destroying him and his sub? No sir! His microphones will tell him, while
+he is still totally submerged, that his approaching prey is a slow poke
+and cannot possibly outrun him; then he'll come up, take a look and
+clinch his conclusions--after which he will attack.”
+
+“True for you sir. He'll launch his torpedo and dive before I can get a
+shot at him or correct my range to hit him; then the torpedo will hit
+us and we'll go up like a shower of mush--probably with half a dozen men
+killed and nothing accomplished in the way of a return swat.”
+
+“That was the program a few months ago,” Cappy retorted triumphantly.
+“Have you noticed, however, that since merchantmen have been armed
+the submarines are more and more prone, when attacking in daylight, to
+pursue a steamer at a reasonable distance and rake her with shell
+fire? If a vessel is fired on and her skipper, looking back, notes the
+position of the submarine and realizes that he cannot possibly outrun
+her and that she outranges him, what does he do, Mike?”
+
+“He does the sensible thing. Heaves to to avoid loss of life, gets his
+men into the boats and abandons his ship to the Hun.”
+
+“Precisely! And if the Hun thinks he is not likely to be disturbed for a
+couple of hours, what does he do?”
+
+“Why,” said Murphy, “he comes aboard, removes all the stores he
+can--particularly engine oil--and strips the vessel of all her brass,
+copper and bronze fittings. These metals are very scarce in Germany and
+they need all they can get in the manufacture of munitions.”
+
+“Correct! And we must bear in mind, Mike, the fact that a German is
+naturally thrifty; if he can sink a ship with shell fire or bombs set
+in her bilges he will not waste on her a torpedo that costs from ten to
+twenty thousand dollars. Now, will he?”
+
+“Well, I wouldn't, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“Then my plan is absurdly simple. We merely provide a gorgeous
+opportunity for the enemy; we inculcate in him the idea that he is about
+to pick a soft one--then: Alas, poor Yorick!”
+
+Michael J. Murphy rose and put on his hat. “Where are you going, Mike?”
+ Cappy demanded.
+
+“I'm going up to the navy yard at Mare Island,” the port captain
+declared, “to see if I cannot pick up a couple of six-inch rifles of
+the model they used when I was in the navy. They're obsolete now, but
+I understand them--and while I'm getting the guns I'll pick up four or
+five old navy men. Leave it to me, Mr. Ricks.”
+
+“We'll give 'em hell!” shouted Cappy.
+
+“We will!” quoth Michael J. Murphy with conviction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LX
+
+
+Two weeks later the old _Costa Rica,_ looking somewhat youthful in a
+new coat of black paint and with a huge American flag painted on each
+topside, slipped quietly out of San Francisco in ballast and for the
+last time turned her nose toward Panama. In the brief period given him
+in which to overhaul her interior, Terence P. Reardon had accomplished
+wonders, and an hour after Mike Murphy had taken his bearings from Point
+San Pedro and laid out his course the chief came into the chart room to
+announce that the old girl was doing eight knots and, barring unexpected
+bad weather, would continue to do it without falling to pieces. “If I
+could have spint two thousand dollars more on her,” Terence declared, “I
+believe I could get another knot out av her. Time was whin she could do
+sixteen.”
+
+Cappy Ricks, enjoying his afternoon cigar in the snug chart room,
+snorted vigorously. “I don't very often take a notion to throw my money
+into the sea, Terence,” he reminded his port engineer, “but when I do
+get that reckless I limit myself to twenty thousand dollars, and that,
+in round figures, is what this old ruin will stand me about the time the
+torpedo blows you up on top of the fiddle. However, that is a trifling
+investment if we succeed in destroying a late-type German submarine with
+a couple of hundred thousand dollars' worth of torpedoes aboard. As a
+sporting proposition it's somewhat more expensive than golf, but the
+excitement makes up for the added cost.”
+
+“The old box is alive with rats and bedbugs,” Murphy complained.
+
+“If they annoy you, Mike, my boy, comfort yourself with the thought that
+they're all going to be drowned,” Cappy replied gayly.
+
+Slowly the old packet wallowed down the coast, the while her crew, under
+Mike Murphy's supervision, built gun platforms fore and aft. Following
+their completion, the two six-inch guns Cappy had succeeded in getting
+from the navy were lifted out of the hold with the aid of the cargo
+winch and placed in position, one forward and the other aft. Thereupon
+the mate took charge of the _Costa Rica,_ while Mike Murphy drilled his
+crew in range finding and celerity in loading the piece. Pointing the
+gun was entirely up to Murphy and, needless to state, the task was in
+capable hands, as was frequently demonstrated during target practice as
+they loafed down the coast.
+
+Upon arrival at Panama the _Costa Rica's_ bunkers were replenished
+and an extra supply of sacked coal was piled on deck, for with her
+patched-up boilers the old steamer was a hog on fuel. Then the mechanics
+and carpenters and all men not vitally needed aboard for the remainder
+of the voyage were put ashore and furnished with transportation back to
+San Francisco by the regular Pacific Mail liner. Next, the name on the
+bows of the _Costa Rica_ was painted out, the name boards at each end of
+her bridge removed and the raised-letter record of her identity and
+home port chipped off her stern; following which Cappy Ricks, Terence
+P. Reardon and Michael J. Murphy commended their souls to their Creator,
+and the _Costa Rica_ slipped leisurely through the ditch and out into
+the Caribbean Sea.
+
+Fourteen days later Mike Murphy dropped round to Cappy Ricks' cabin.
+“We're in the danger zone, sir,” he announced. “And from now on we're
+liable to meet one of the larger type of U-boats that operate a couple
+of thousand miles from the base at Zeebrugge.”
+
+“Very well,” Cappy replied calmly. “Whether torpedoed or shelled, your
+instructions are the same. Forbid the wireless operator to send out a
+call for help, heave to immediately and get the men into the boats and
+away from the ship. Terry Reardon will remain on duty in the engine
+room, provided it isn't wrecked by a torpedo and the engine room
+crew killed; you and your gun crew will remain aboard and hide in the
+forecastle if it's action front, and in the auxiliary steering-gear
+house if it's action rear. I will relieve the quartermaster, take charge
+of the wheel and direct the action. If I see that there isn't going to
+be any action we'll put on life preservers, jump overboard and be picked
+up by our men in the boats. However, something tells me, Mike, that
+we're going to have a crack at--”
+
+At that very instant something rapped the _Costa Rica_ terrifically
+on the starboard side amidships and tore through her with a grinding,
+wrenching noise, followed by an explosion.
+
+“There's the crack you were speaking of, sir,” Murphy yelled and started
+for the door. Cappy Ricks grasped him frantically by the arm. “Was that
+a shell or a torpedo?” he cried. His voice, thin and shrill with age,
+quavered now with excitement.
+
+“It was a shell,” Murphy answered. “Went through the second cabin.”
+
+“Then that German belongs to Alden P. Ricks,” Cappy declared, and
+scurried for the pilot house. “Out and into life-boats!” he ordered the
+quartermaster, and shoved him away from the wheel. “Set her over to slow
+speed ahead,” he called to the mate, who was standing stupidly, gazing
+at the white puffs of smoke that marked the position of the submarine
+two miles off the starboard bow. The mate came to life, jammed over the
+handle of the marine telegraph and, obeying an order bellowed to him by
+Mike Murphy from the main deck, abandoned the bridge for the boat deck,
+there to superintend the task of getting the men away from the ship.
+
+His first thrill of excitement having subsided, Cappy carefully drew
+the little half curtains on the pilot-house window, leaving a small
+slit through which he could observe the submarine without being observed
+himself, for it was no part of his plan to disclose to the enemy the
+fact that the ship was not entirely deserted--and that the submarine
+commander should jump to the conclusion that she was deserted by all
+hands was precisely the condition that Cappy desired to bring about.
+
+Down in the engine room the indomitable Terence Reardon, with one hand
+on the throttle and one eye on the steam gauge, put the _Costa Rica_
+under a dead-slow bell; she seemed scarcely to move, yet she had
+sufficient steerage way to enable Cappy to keep her pointed in the
+general direction of the submarine, the commander of which, seeing the
+crew of the Costa Rica scurrying for the boats, contented himself with
+sending over half a dozen shells for the purpose of hurrying them along;
+then he ceased firing, and when the boats pulled out from the ship in
+tow of a motor lifeboat and his powerful glasses showed neither guns nor
+sign of life upon the _Costa Rica's_ decks, he did exactly what Cappy
+Ricks figured he would do.
+
+He circled warily round his prize, but the absence of frantic wireless
+calls for help lulled his suspicions, and presently he bore down upon
+her, hove to two cable lengths abreast the wallowing hulk and watched
+her fully five minutes for a possible trap, for the absence of any name
+puzzled him. His suspicions subsided at length, however, the hatch
+in her turtle deck slid back and men appeared, dragging up a small
+collapsible boat.
+
+Slowly, slowly--so gradually that it seemed the old vessel was merely
+drifting, Cappy brought the _Costa Rica_ round until her bow pointed
+toward the submarine. Mike Murphy, standing just inside the forecastle
+door, kept his glance on the slit in the curtains on the pilot-house
+window-and presently Cappy motioned violently to him.
+
+“To the gun!” ordered the captain. Followed by his gun crew he dashed
+out of the forecastle and up the companion ladder to the forecastle
+head. A jerk at a lever connecting a cunningly constructed set of
+controls, and the false topsides on the forecastle head flopped to the
+deck, revealing Mike Murphy's six-inch gun. Cappy saw him deflect the
+gun while another man traversed it; for five seconds his eyes pressed
+the sight, and when the gun remained motionless Cappy knew that the hull
+of the submarine was looming fairly on the intersection of the cross
+wires in the sight. The range was point-blank!
+
+Quick as were Murphy and his crew, however, the gun crew of the
+submarine was quicker. Before the _Costa Rica's_ gun was properly laid,
+a shell from the submarine flew a foot over the heads of the Murphyites
+and burst fifty yards beyond the ship. “Ah, missed!” breathed Michael J.
+and raised his hand. The gunner released the firing pin and the six-inch
+projectile with which the gun had been loaded for two days crashed into
+the submarine at her water line.
+
+A terrific explosion followed the shot. Cappy Ricks, gazing popeyed
+with horror, saw the submarine disintegrate and disappear in a huge
+water-spout; when the water settled only a vast and widening smear of
+heavy fuel oil showed where she had been.
+
+From the forecastle head Michael Murphy yelled to Cappy Ricks. “Well,
+are you satisfied, sir?” On his part, Cappy, jubilant, even in the
+instant when he knew thirty new faces were already whining round the
+devil, dashed out on the bridge, seized the whistle cord and swung on
+it. A sad, nautical sob from the _Costa Rica's_ siren answered him, and
+ten seconds later Terence Reardon whistled up the bridge. Cappy let go
+the whistle cord and took up the speaking tube. “Hello,” he piped.
+
+“What the divil do ye mean be blowin' that whistle?” roared Terence,
+thinking he was addressing the mate. “Wit' me alone in the engine
+room how d'ye expect me to keep shteam up on this ould hooker wit' you
+blowin' it off in the whistle! Take shame to yourself!”
+
+“Mike sunk the submarine! Mike sunk the submarine!” Cappy shrilled
+over and over again. “Come up, Terence, and see the oil. See the oil,
+Terence, see the oil! Mike sunk the submarine, Mike sunk it. Bully for
+Mike! Oh, bully! Bully! Bully! Mike sunk it, but I schemed it. Come up,
+Terence, I'm going to faint.”
+
+And then, with shrill yips of delirious delight he slid down the
+companion to the main deck, to be gathered in Michael J. Murphy's
+arms and hugged and passed to the gun crew, who hoisted him to their
+shoulders and paraded joyously and blasphemously round the deck.
+
+“I told you he wouldn't use a torpedo if he could do the trick with
+shells,” Gappy shouted. “I told you he'd board us if we didn't wireless
+for help. Ha, ha, ha! Te-hee!” And he burst into shrill cachinnations.
+“I out-thought the scoundrel--goin' to get a patent on my idea--turn
+it over to the Government--oh, Mike! Oh, Terence! Get the steward back
+aboard. We must have some liquor. They used to serve grog in the old
+navy after a victory, didn't they? Yi-yi-yi!”
+
+Terence P. Reardon came up and proffered his greasy paw, the while
+his quizzical glance swept the oily sea. “Well, sor,” he remarked
+philosophically, “what wit' bein' a Christian I'm a little bit sorry
+the Dutchman lost, but back av that again I'm a little bit glad we won.
+Michael, do you get those blackguards o' mine down below as quick as ye
+can, or we'll be all day gettin' shteam up agin in this ould brute av a
+ship.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXI
+
+
+Two days passed uneventfully; then shortly before sunset on the third
+day the look-out reported a periscope about a thousand yards distant and
+three points off the port bow. Cappy Ricks' old knees promptly commenced
+to knock together with excitement.
+
+“Here's where Terence gets that torpedo if he doesn't come up out of the
+engine room,” Mike Murphy remarked laconically, and promptly whistled
+Terence on the engine room speaking tube. “Come up or be blown up,” he
+yelled.
+
+“Divil a fear! We're comin',” Terence replied.
+
+The chief and his crew had just reached the deck when the black shining
+turtleback of the submarine broke water.
+
+“They have to come to the surface to discharge a torpedo,” Murphy
+explained to Cappy Ricks.
+
+“Great Godfrey! Here it comes!” shrilled Cappy, and watched, fascinated,
+the wake of the torpedo as it raced toward them. Just as Terence Reardon
+and his engine crew came panting up on the bridge, the old _Costa Rica_
+walked into it. “Me ingine room! I knew it!” cried Terence. Then the
+explosion came.
+
+From where he lay on his back, half stunned, Cappy Ricks saw water and
+wreckage fly high in the air. The _Costa Rica_ shivered. So did Cappy.
+Then the debris descended, and Cappy, choked with salt water, dimly
+realized that Terence Reardon had him in his arms and was carrying
+him down to the boat deck, where the motor lifeboat swung wide in the
+davits.
+
+“Here, take the boss from me,” Terence commanded, and passed Cappy to a
+negro fireman, who carried the old man forward and laid him on a pile of
+blankets, previously placed there for just such an emergency.
+
+Then the lifeboat commenced to drop away from the towering black
+topside and Cappy was aware of Michael J. Murphy's face--white, anxious,
+terrified--gazing down at him from the ship's rail.
+
+“I'm just suffering from the shock,” Cappy called. “Mike, you 'tend
+to business. Remember what I told you and tell the crew to keep their
+mouths shut. He'll do the natural thing and walk into your hand.”
+
+Murphy, reassured, waved his hand, and with his gun crew fled aft to
+the little house that protected the auxiliary steering gear from the
+weather, where they concealed themselves. In the meantime the other
+lifeboats had been lowered away; the painter from the third boat was
+passed to the second, which in turn passed its painter to the motor
+boat, and the ship's company hauled clear of the shattered, sinking
+ship. The _Costa Rica_ was going down by the head, and Cappy, curious as
+any human being, sat up to watch his decoy disappear.
+
+The submarine steamed up to them. “What vessel is that?” her commander
+shouted from the conning tower in excellent English.
+
+“The American steamer _Soak-it-to-'em_, of Rotten Row,” Cappy Ricks
+replied, “carrying a cargo of post holes. She has three decks and no
+bottom.”
+
+“How do you spell the name?” the German bawled.
+
+“Can't hear you,” Cappy fibbed. Then, _sotto voce_, to Mr. Reardon:
+“Kick her ahead, Terry.”
+
+“How do you spell the name?” the submarine captain repeated.
+
+Cappy jibbered something unintelligible, and Mr. Reardon added to the
+puzzle by bellowing the information that the _p_ was silent, as in
+pneumonia. All this time the motor boat was putting distance between
+itself and the submarine, and the disgusted German, as a last resort,
+steamed away and circled round the rapidly lifting stern of the doomed
+_Costa Rica_, confident that there he would find the record of her
+identity and home port--information which, in his methodical German way,
+he desired to include in his official report to the Admiralty. And while
+he ratched slowly past, striving to find with his binoculars that which
+was not, Michael J. Murphy and his bully boys came aft with a rush, tore
+aside the tarpaulin that screened the stern gun and expeditiously opened
+fire. To Cappy Ricks' horror Murphy's first shot was a clean miss, and
+instantly the big sub started to submerge with a hoarse sucking sound
+that brought despair to Cappy Ricks' heart. She was halfway under before
+Murphy's gun was reloaded, but quite calmly the gun was traversed and
+deflected until the black stern flashed across the intersection of the
+wires in the sight; then Murphy's hand dropped and the gun roared.
+
+“That'll do nicely, lads,” he told his crew. “Tore the stern off her
+that time; and from this dive she'll not come up. Cappy Ricks was right.
+He banked on human nature, and if curiosity isn't a human trait then I'm
+a Chinaman. Overboard with you, and away before the old girl goes under
+or we'll be sucked down in the vortex.”
+
+And overboard they went, to be picked up five minutes later by Terence
+and Cappy in the motor lifeboat. “You were right, Mr. Ricks,” cried
+Murphy as he scrambled into the boat. “Curiosity killed the cat!”
+
+“Yes, and it's blamed near killed me,” Cappy declared feebly. “Some of
+that debris came down and hit me a slap on the dome--Jerusalem! There
+goes my decoy--peace to her bones!”
+
+The _Costa Rica_ dove to the Port of Missing Ships. Michael J. Murphy,
+however, did not turn to see her disappear; he was gazing, instead, at
+a thin red trickle that came from under Cappy's cap band and was running
+down his wizened neck. “Mr. Ricks,” he said anxiously, “you're wounded.”
+
+Cappy rubbed the sore spot, and when he withdrew his fingers they were
+bloody.
+
+“By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet!” he gasped wonderingly. “You're right,
+Mike. I've been wounded in action with the enemies of my country! So
+help me, Mike. I've actually lived to shed my blood for the Stars and
+Stripes, like any other Ricks.”
+
+He gazed wonderingly at Mike Murphy. “Now I can die happy,” he murmured.
+“I've done my bit.”
+
+“Yes, begorra,” rumbled Terence P. Reardon, “an' if I have my way about
+it ye're honorably discharged from the service this minute, Misther
+Ricks. I'll gallivant no more wit' you in ye're ould breadbaskets av
+shteamers. 'Tis highly dangerous an' no business for a man of family.”
+
+Mike Murphy grinned at his colleague. “For all that, Terence,” he
+declared, “you must admit that Mr. Ricks' scheme for destroying
+submarines is the only practical one yet devised.”
+
+“Thrue for ye, Michael. But shtill, like all fine invintions, the idjea
+has its dhrawbacks. Now if we could only be sure av a continyous supply
+av ould ships for use as decoys--”
+
+“I see a smudge of smoke,” cried Gappy Ricks.
+
+Mike Murphy followed the old man's pointing finger. “There's only
+one kind of boat makes a smudge like that,” he declared; “and it's a
+destroyer. Safe and well out of a glorious adventure. Faith, we're
+the lucky devils; and by this and by that, I'll enlist aboard that
+destroyer, now that I'm here on the job.”
+
+“Do--an' good luck to you!” murmured Terence.
+
+“Amen,” said Cappy Ricks, and fingered his trifling but honorable wound.
+“Gosh!” he murmured. “If Skinner could only know a thrill like this!”
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks Retires, by Peter B. Kyne
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diff --git a/6020-0.zip b/6020-0.zip
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+<?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 Retires, 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;}
+    .side      { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks Retires, 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 Retires
+       But that doesn't keep him from coming back stronger than ever
+
+Author: Peter B. Kyne
+
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6020]
+This file was first posted on October 19, 2002
+Last Updated: March 12, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPPY RICKS RETIRES ***
+
+
+
+
+Text file produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+HTML file produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <div style="height: 8em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      CAPPY RICKS RETIRES
+    </h1>
+    <h2>
+      <i>But that doesn't keep him from coming back stronger than ever</i>
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Peter B. Kyne
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      THE ILLUSTRATIONS (not available in this edtition)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But, in time, Cappy would find her a rich husband
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>(Excerpt from the log of Capt. Matt Peasley:)</i> &ldquo;I am alone on the
+      ship&mdash;all the rest are now dead&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He always shouted when telephoning
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two million dollars!&rdquo; cried J. Augustus Redell
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>CONTENTS</b>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>CAPPY RICKS RETIRES</b> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER XLV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0046"> CHAPTER XLVI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0047"> CHAPTER XLVII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0048"> CHAPTER XLVIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0049"> CHAPTER XLIX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0050"> CHAPTER L </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0051"> CHAPTER LI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0052"> CHAPTER LII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0053"> CHAPTER LIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0054"> CHAPTER LIV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0055"> CHAPTER LV </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0056"> CHAPTER LVI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0057"> CHAPTER LVII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0058"> CHAPTER LVIII </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0059"> CHAPTER LIX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0060"> CHAPTER LX </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0061"> CHAPTER LXI </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      CAPPY RICKS RETIRES
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      If you have read previous tales of the Blue Star Navigation Company and
+      the various brisk individuals connected therewith, you will recall one
+      Michael J. Murphy, who first came to the attention of Cappy Ricks at the
+      time he, the said Murphy, was chief kicker of the barkentine <i>Retriever</i>
+      under Captain Matt Peasley. Subsequently, when Matt Peasley presented in
+      his person indubitable evidence of the wisdom of the old saw that you
+      cannot keep a good man down, Michael J. became skipper of the <i>Retriever</i>.
+      This berth he continued to occupy with pleasure and profit to all
+      concerned, until a small financial tidal wave, which began with Matt
+      Peasley's purchase, at a ridiculously low figure, of the Oriental
+      Steamship Company's huge freighter, <i>Narcissus</i>, swept the cunning
+      Matthew into the presidency of the Blue Star Navigation Company; whereupon
+      Matt designed to take Murphy out of the <i>Retriever</i> and have him try
+      his hand in steam as master of the <i>Narcissus</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The same financial tidal wave had swept Cappy Ricks out of the presidency
+      of the Blue Star Navigation Company&mdash;presumably far up the beach to a
+      place in the sun, where he was to bask for the remainder of his old age as
+      president emeritus of all his companies. However, if there was one thing
+      about Cappy you could depend upon absolutely it was the consistency of his
+      inconsistency. For, having announced his retirement, his very next move
+      was to bewail his inability to retire. He insisted upon clinging to the
+      business like a barnacle to a ship, and was always very much in evidence
+      whenever any deal of the slightest importance was about to be consummated.
+      Indeed, he was never so thoroughly in command as when, his first burst of
+      enthusiasm anent the acquisition of the <i>Narcissus</i> at fifty per
+      cent. of her value having passed, he discovered that his son-in-law
+      planned to order Mike Murphy off the quarter-deck of the <i>Retriever</i>
+      onto the bridge of the <i>Narcissus</i>, while an unknown answering to the
+      name of Terence Reardon had been selected for her chief engineer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy listened to Matt Peasley's announcement; then with a propitiatory
+      &ldquo;Ahem! Hum! Harump-h-h-h!&rdquo; he hitched himself forward in his chair and
+      gazed at Matt over the rims of his spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me, Matt,&rdquo; he demanded presently, &ldquo;who is this man Reardon? I do not
+      recall such an engineer in our employ&mdash;and I thought I knew them
+      all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not in our employ, sir. He has been chief engineer of the <i>Arab</i>
+      for the past eight years, and prior to that he was chief of the <i>Narcissus</i>.
+      It was Reardon who told me what ailed her. She's a hog on coal, and the
+      Oriental steamship people used to nag him about the fuel bills. Their port
+      engineer didn't agree with Reardon as to what was wrong with her, so he
+      left. He assures me that if her condensers are retubed she'll burn from
+      seven to ten tons of coal less per day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum! So you're going to give him the job for telling you something our
+      own port engineer would have told us after an examination.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, I'm going to give him the job because he has earned it. He gave
+      me some very valuable information about the wretched condition of her
+      electric-light plant and a crack, cunningly concealed, in the after web of
+      her crank shaft&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, by thunder,&rdquo; piped Cappy, &ldquo;that's worth knowing! Ship a new crank
+      shaft, Matt, and save the Blue Star a salvage bill sooner or later.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that inside information will not only save us money in the future,&rdquo;
+       Matt continued, &ldquo;but it enabled me to drive a closer bargain when dealing
+      with MacCandless, of the Oriental Steamship Company. Consequently Terence
+      Reardon gets the job. He's only making a hundred and fifty dollars a month
+      in the <i>Arab</i>, and as he is a rattling good man&mdash;I've looked him
+      up, sir&mdash;I've promised him a hundred and seventy-five a month in the
+      <i>Narcissus</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you've already promised him the job, eh? Mistake, Matt, serious
+      mistake. You say you looked him up, but I'll bet you a new hat there is
+      one thing about him that you failed to investigate, and that is: What kind
+      of Irish is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, regular Irish, of course&mdash;mighty good Irish, I should say.
+      Keen, observing, not too talkative, a hard worker, temperate in his habits
+      and a crackajack engineer to boot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy settled back wearily in his chair and favored his youthful partner
+      with a glance of tolerant amusement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt,&rdquo; he announced, &ldquo;those are the qualifications we look for in an
+      engineer, and it's been my experience that the Irish and the Scotch make
+      the best marine engineers in the world. But when you've been in the
+      shipping game as long as I have, young man, you'll know better than to
+      pick two Irishmen as departmental chiefs in the same ship! I did it&mdash;once.
+      There was a red-headed scoundrel named Dennis O'Leary who went from A.B.
+      to master in the <i>Florence Ricks</i>. That fellow was a bulldog. He made
+      up his mind he was going to be master of the <i>Florence</i> and I
+      couldn't stop him. Good man&mdash;damned good! And there was a black
+      Irishman, John Rooney, in the <i>Amelia Ricks</i>. Had ambitions just like
+      O'Leary. He went from oiler to first assistant in the <i>Amelia</i>. Fine
+      man&mdash;damned fine! So fine, in fact, that when the chief of the <i>Florence</i>
+      died I shifted Rooney to her immediately. And what was the result? Why,
+      riot, of course. Matt, the Irish will fight anybody and anything, but
+      they'll fight quicker, with less excuse and greater delight, among
+      themselves, than any other nationality! The <i>Florence Ricks</i> carried
+      a million feet of lumber, but she wasn't big enough for Rooney and
+      O'Leary, so I fired them both, not being desirous of playing favorites.
+      Naturally, each blamed the other for the loss of his job, and without a
+      word having been spoken they went out on the dock and fought the bloodiest
+      draw I have ever seen on the San Francisco waterfront. After they had been
+      patched up at the Harbor Hospital, both came and cussed me and told me I
+      was an ingrate, so I hired them both back again, put them in different
+      ships, slipped each of them a good, cheerful Russian Finn, and saved
+      funeral expenses. That's what I got, Matt, for not asking those two what
+      kind of Irish they were. Now, then, sonny, once more. What kind of Irish
+      is Terence Rearden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't know, I tell you. He's just Irish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if praying for the great gift of
+      patience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen to the boy,&rdquo; he demanded of an imaginary bystander. &ldquo;He doesn't
+      know! Well, stick your head down over his engine-room grating some day,
+      sing The Boyne Wather&mdash;and find out! Now, then, do you happen to know
+      what kind of Irish Mike Murphy is? You ought to. You were shipmates with
+      him in the <i>Retriever</i> long enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mike's from Galway. He goes to mass on Sunday when he can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum! If he's from Galway, where did he leave his brogue? He runs to the
+      broad <i>a</i> like an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's easily explained. Mike left his brogue in Galway. He came to this
+      country when he was six years old and was raised in Boston. That's where
+      he picked up his broad <i>a</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That doesn't help a bit, Matt. He's Irish just the same, and what a
+      Yankee like you don't know about the Irish would fill a book. You know,
+      Matt, there are a few rare white men that can handle Chinamen
+      successfully; now and then you'll run across one that can handle niggers;
+      but I have never yet met anybody who could figure the mental angles of the
+      Irish except an Irishman. There's something in an Irishman that drives him
+      into the bandwagon. He's got to be the boss, and if he can't be the boss
+      he'll sit round and criticize. But if I want a man to handle Chinamen, or
+      niggers, or Japs, or Bulgarians I'll advertise for an Irishman and take
+      the first one that shows up. A young man like you, Matt, shouldn't monkey
+      with these people. They're a wonderful race and very much misunderstood,
+      and if you don't start 'em right on the job you'll always be in trouble.
+      Now, Matt, I've always done the hiring and firing for the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company, and as a result I've had blamed little of it to do,
+      considering the size of our fleet; consequently I'll just give these two
+      Harps the Double-O. Have Murphy and Reardon at the office at nine o'clock
+      to-morrow morning and I'll read them the riot act before turning them to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks was at his office at eight-fifty the following morning. At
+      eight-fifty-two Mr. Terence Reardon, plainly uncomfortable in a ready-made
+      blue-serge Sunday suit purchased on the Embarcadero for twenty-five
+      dollars, came into the office. He was wearing a celluloid collar, and a
+      quite noticeable rattle as he shook hands with Cappy Ricks betrayed the
+      fact that he also was wearing celluloid cuffs; for, notwithstanding the
+      fact that he bathed twice a day, Mr. Reardon's Hibernian hide contained
+      much of perspiration, coal dust, metal grit and lubricating oil, and such
+      substances can always be washed off celluloid collars and cuffs. To his
+      credit be it known that Terence Reardon knew his haberdashery was not <i>au
+      fait</i>, for his wife never failed to remind him of it; but unfortunately
+      he was the possessor of a pair of grimy hands that nothing on earth could
+      ever make clean, and even when he washed them in benzine they always left
+      black thumb prints on a linen collar during the process of adjustment. He
+      had long since surrendered to his fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At eight-fifty-four Mike Murphy arrived. Murphy was edging up into the
+      forties, but still he was young enough at heart to take a keen interest in
+      his personal appearance, and a tailor who belonged to Michael's council of
+      the Knights of Columbus had decked him out in a suit of English tweeds of
+      the latest cut and in most excellent taste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, captain,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks greeted him. &ldquo;Ahead of time as usual.
+      Meet Mr. Terence Reardon, late chief of the <i>Arab</i>. He is to be a
+      shipmate of yours&mdash;chief of the <i>Narcissus</i>, you know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Reardon, shake hands with Captain Mike Murphy. Captain Murphy has
+      been in our employ a number of years as master of sail. The <i>Narcissus</i>
+      will be his first command in steam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Terence Reardon, eh?&rdquo; echoed Mike Murphy pleasantly. &ldquo;That sounds like a
+      good name. Glad to meet you, chief. What part of the old country are you
+      from? The West?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The wish was father to the thought, since Mike was from the West himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm from the Nort'&mdash;from Belfast,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon replied in a deep
+      Kerry brogue, and extended a grimy paw upon the finger of which Mike
+      Murphy observed a gold ring that proclaimed Mr. Terence Reardon&mdash;an
+      Irishman, presumably a Catholic&mdash;one who had risen to the third
+      degree in Freemasonry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks saw that ring also, and started visibly. A Knight Templar
+      himself, Terence Reardon was the last person on earth in whom he expected
+      to find a brother Mason. He glanced at Mike Murphy and saw that the
+      skipper was looking, not at Mr. Reardon, but at the Masonic emblem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, chief,&rdquo; Cappy hastened to interrupt. &ldquo;Have a chair, captain.
+      Mr. Reardon, my son-in-law, Captain Peasley here, tells me you were chief
+      of the <i>Narcissus</i> when she was on the China run for the Oriental
+      Steamship Company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon sat down heavily, set his derby hat on the floor beside him
+      and replied briefly: &ldquo;I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Murphy excused himself and drew Matt Peasley out of the room. &ldquo;God
+      knows,&rdquo; he whispered hoarsely, &ldquo;religion should never enter into the
+      working of a ship, and I suppose I'll have to get along with that fellow;
+      but did you mark the Masonic ring on the paw of the Far-Down? And on the
+      right hand, too! The jackass don't know enough to wear it on his left
+      hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what's wrong about being a Mason?&rdquo; Matt protested. &ldquo;Cappy's a Mason
+      and so am I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing wrong about it&mdash;with you and Cappy Ricks. That's your
+      privilege. You're Protestants.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, maybe the chief's a Protestant, too,&rdquo; Matt suggested, but Mike
+      Murphy silenced him with a sardonic smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With that name?&rdquo; he queried, and laughed the brief, mirthless laugh of
+      the man who knows. &ldquo;And he says he's from Belfast! Man, I could cut that
+      Kerry brogue with a belaying pin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mike,&rdquo; Matt interrupted, &ldquo;I never before suspected you were
+      intolerant of a shipmate's private convictions. I must say this attitude
+      of yours is disturbing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I'm not a bigot,&rdquo; Murphy protested virtuously. &ldquo;Who told you that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you're a Catholic, and you resent Reardon because he's a
+      Protestant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a bit of it. You're a Protestant, and don't I love you like a
+      brother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt thought he saw the light. &ldquo;Oh, I see,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;It's because
+      Reardon is an Irish Protestant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Almost&mdash;but not quite. God knows I hate the Orangemen for what they
+      did to me and mine, but at least they've been Protestant since the time of
+      Henry VIII. But the lad inside there has no business to be a Protestant.
+      The Lord intended him for a Catholic&mdash;and he knows it. He's a
+      renegade. I don't blame you for being a Protestant, Matt. It's none of my
+      business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley had plumbed the mystery at last. He had been reading a good
+      deal in the daily papers about Home Rule for Ireland, the Irish
+      Nationalists, the Ulster Volunteers, the Unionists, and so on, and in a
+      vague way he had always understood that religious differences were at the
+      bottom of it all. He realized now that it was something deeper than that&mdash;a
+      relic of injustice and oppression; a hostility that had come to Mike
+      Murphy as a heritage from his forbears&mdash;something he had imbibed at
+      his mother's breast and was, for purposes of battle, a more vital issue
+      than the interminable argument about the only safe road to heaven.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; Matt murmured. &ldquo;Reardon, being Irish, has violated the national
+      code of the Irish&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've said it, Matt. They're Tories at heart, every mother's son of
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean&mdash;Tories?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That they're for England, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't blame them. So am I. Aren't you, Mike?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May God forgive you,&rdquo; Mike Murphy answered piously. &ldquo;I am not. I'm for
+      their enemies. I'm for anything that's against England. Ireland is not a
+      colony. She's a nation. Man, man, you don't understand. Only an Irishman
+      can, and he gets it at his mother's or his grandmother's knee&mdash;the
+      word-of-mouth history of his people, the history that isn't in the books!
+      Do you think I can forget? Do you think I want to forget?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; Matt Peasley replied quietly; &ldquo;I think you'll have to forget&mdash;in
+      so far as Terence Reardon is concerned. This is the land of the free and
+      the home of the brave, and even when you're outside the three-mile limit I
+      want you to remember, Mike, that the good ship <i>Narcissus</i> is under
+      the American flag. The <i>Narcissus</i> needs all her space for cargo,
+      Mike. There is no room aboard her for a feud. Don't ever poke your nose
+      into Terence Reardon's engine-room except on his invitation or for the
+      purpose of locating a leak. Treat him with courtesy and do not discuss
+      politics or religion when you meet him at table, which will be about the
+      only opportunity you two will have to discuss anything; and if Reardon
+      wants to talk religion or politics you change your feeding time and avoid
+      meeting him. I've taken you out of the old <i>Retriever,</i> Mike, where
+      you've been earning a hundred and twenty-five dollars a month, to put you
+      in the <i>Narcissus</i> at two hundred and fifty. That is conclusive
+      evidence that I'm for you. But Terence Reardon is a crackajack chief
+      engineer, and I want you to remember that the Blue Star Navigation Company
+      needs him in its business quite as much as it needs Michael J. Murphy, and
+      if you two get scrapping I'm not going to take the trouble to investigate
+      and place the blame. I'll just call you both up on the carpet and make you
+      draw straws to see who quits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fair enough,&rdquo; replied the honest Murphy. &ldquo;If I can't be good I'll be as
+      good as I can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At that very instant Cappy Ricks was just discovering what kind of Irish
+      Mr. Terence Reardon was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The most innocent remark brought him the information he sought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain Murphy, whom you have just met, is to be master of the <i>Narcissus,</i>
+      chief,&rdquo; he explained. &ldquo;He's a splendid fellow personally and a most
+      capable navigator, and like you he's Irish. I'm sure you'll get along
+      famously together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy tried to smile away his apprehension, for a still small voice
+      whispered to him and questioned the right of Terence Reardon to call him
+      brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon's sole reply to this optimistic prophecy was a noncommittal
+      grunt, accompanied by a slight outthrust and uplift of the chin, a pursing
+      of the lips and the ghost of a sardonic little smile. Only an Irishman can
+      get the right tempo to that grunt&mdash;and the tempo is everything. In
+      the case of Terence Reardon it said distinctly: &ldquo;I hope you're right, sir,
+      but privately I have my doubts.&rdquo; However, not satisfied with pantomime,
+      Mr. Reardon went a trifle farther&mdash;for reasons best known to himself.
+      He laved the corner of his mouth with the tip of a tobacco-stained tongue
+      and said presently: &ldquo;I can't say, Misther Ricks, that I quite like the cut
+      av that fella's jib.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That was the Irish of it. A representative of any other race on earth
+      would have employed the third person singular when referring to the absent
+      Murphy; only an Irishman would have said &ldquo;that fella,&rdquo; and only a certain
+      kind of Irishman could have managed to inject into such simple words such
+      a note of scorn supernal. Cappy Ricks got the message&mdash;just like
+      that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then stay off his bridge, Reardon,&rdquo; he warned the chief. &ldquo;Your job is in
+      the engine-room, so even if you and Captain Murphy do not like each other,
+      there will be no excuse for friction. The only communication you need have
+      with him is through the engine-room telegraph.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, sor,&rdquo; Terence Reardon replied respectfully, &ldquo;I'll take it kindly av
+      you to tell him to keep out av me engine-room. I'll have no skipper
+      buttin' in on me, tellin' me how to run me engines an' askin' me why in
+      this an' that I don't go aisy on the coal. Faith, I've had thim do it&mdash;the
+      wanst&mdash;an' the wanst only. Begorra, I'd have brained thim wit' a
+      monkey wrench if they tried it a second time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the other hand,&rdquo; Cappy remarked, &ldquo;I've had to fire more than one chief
+      engineer who couldn't cure himself of a habit of coming up on the bridge
+      when the vessel got to port&mdash;to tell the skipper how to berth his
+      ship against a strong flood tide. I suppose that while we have steamships
+      the skippers will always wonder how the vessel can possibly make steerage
+      way, considering the chief engineers, while the chiefs will never cease
+      marvelling that such fine ships should be entrusted to a lot of Johnny
+      Know-Nothings. However, Reardon, I might as well tell you that the Blue
+      Star Navigation Company plays no favorites. When the chief and the skipper
+      begin to interfere with the dividends, they look overside some bright day
+      and see Alden P. Ricks waiting for them on the cap of the wharf. And when
+      the ship is alongside, the said Ricks comes aboard with five bones in his
+      pocket, and the said skipper and the said chief are invited into the
+      dining saloon to roll the said bones&mdash;one flop and high man out. Yes,
+      sir. Out! Out of the ship and out of the Blue Star employ&mdash;for ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hear you, sor. I hearrd you the first time,&rdquo; Terence Reardon replied
+      complacently and reached for his pipe. &ldquo;All I ask from you is a square
+      deal. I'll have it from the captain wit'out the askin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus the Reardon breathing his defiance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad we understand each other, chief. Just avoid arguments, political
+      or religious, and treat the skipper with courtesy. Then you'll get along
+      all right. Now with reference to your salary. The union scale is one
+      hundred and fifty dollars a month&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beggin' yer pardon for the intherruption, sor, but the young man promised
+      me a hundhred an' siventy-five.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was before the Blue Star Navigation Company took over the young man
+      and his ship <i>Narcissus.</i> Hereafter you'll deal with the old man in
+      such matters. I'm going to give you two hundred a month, Reardon, and you
+      are to keep the <i>Narcissus</i> out of the shop. Hear me, chief&mdash;out
+      of the shop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No man can ordher me to do me djooty,&rdquo; said Terence Reardon simply. &ldquo;Tell
+      the fine gintleman on the bridge to keep her out av the kelp, an' faith,
+      she'll shtay out av the shop. Thank you kindly, sor. When do I go to
+      wurrk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your pay started this morning. The <i>Narcissus</i> goes on Christy's
+      ways in Oakland Harbor at the tip of the flood this afternoon. Get on the
+      ship and stay on her. It's a day-and-night rush job to get her in
+      commission, and you'll be paid time and a half while she's repairing.
+      Good-day and good luck to you, chief. Come in and see me whenever you get
+      to port.&rdquo; And Cappy Ricks, most democratic of men, extended his hand to
+      his newest employee. Terence Reardon took it in his huge paw that would
+      never be clean any more, and held it for a moment, the while he looked
+      fearlessly into Cappy's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Tis a proud man I am to wurrk for you, sor,&rdquo; he said simply. &ldquo;Tip-top
+      serrvice for tip-top pay, an' by the Great Gun av Athlone, you'll get it
+      from me, sor. If ever the ship is lost 'twill be no fault of mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon's manner, as he thus calmly exculpated himself from the
+      penalty for future disaster, indicated quite clearly that Cappy Ricks, in
+      such a contingency, might look to the man higher up&mdash;on the bridge,
+      for instance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Terence Reardon had departed Cappy Ricks called Mike Murphy into the
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, captain,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;there are a few things I want to tell you. This
+      man Reardon is a fine, loyal fellow, but he's touchy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know all about him,&rdquo; Murphy interrupted with a slight emphasis on the
+      pronoun. Unlike Mr. Reardon he employed the third person singular and did
+      not say &ldquo;that fella,&rdquo; for he had been raised in the United States of
+      America.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have already given the captain his instructions,&rdquo; Matt Peasley
+      announced. &ldquo;He understands the situation perfectly and will conduct
+      himself accordingly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A small army of men swarmed over, under and through the huge <i>Narcissus</i>
+      for the next three weeks, and the hearts of Cappy Ricks and Matt Peasley
+      were like to burst with pride as they stood on the bridge with Captain
+      Mike Murphy, while he ran the vessel over the measured course to test her
+      speed, and swung her in the bay while adjusting her compass. She was as
+      beautiful as money and paint could make her, and when Terence Reardon, in
+      calm disregard of orders, came up on the bridge to announce his unbounded
+      faith in the rejuvenated condensers and to predict a modest coal bill for
+      the future, Mike Murphy so far forgot himself as to order the steward to
+      bring up a bottle of something and begged Mr. Reardon to join him in three
+      fingers of nepenthe to celebrate the occasion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;T'ank you, sor, but I never dhrink&mdash;on djooty,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon retorted
+      with chill politeness, &ldquo;nor,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;wit' me immejiate superiors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A superficial analysis of this remark will convince the most sceptical
+      that Mr. Reardon, with true Hibernian adroitness, had managed to convey an
+      insult without seeming to convey it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn't that a pity!&rdquo; the skipper replied. &ldquo;We'll excuse you to attend to
+      your duty, Mr. Reardon;&rdquo; and he bowed the chief toward the companion
+      leading to the boat deck. The latter departed, furious, with an
+      uncomfortable feeling of having been out-generaled; and once a good
+      Irishman and true has undergone that humiliation it is a safe bet that the
+      Dove of Peace has lost her tail feathers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's an unmannerly chief engineer,&rdquo; Mike Murphy announced blandly, &ldquo;but
+      for all that he's not without his good points. He'll not waste money in
+      his department.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A virtue which I trust you will imitate in yours, captain,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks
+      snapped dryly. &ldquo;Is Reardon working short-handed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only while we're loading, when he'll need just enough men to keep steam
+      up in the winches. When we go to sea, however, he'll have a full crew, but
+      the fun of it is they'll be non-union men with the exception of the
+      engineers and officers. The engineers will all belong to the Marine
+      Engineers' Association and the mates to Harbor 15, Masters' and Pilots'
+      Association.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll do nothing of the sort,&rdquo; Matt Peasley declared quietly. &ldquo;We have
+      union crews in all our other steamers, and the unions will declare a
+      strike on us if we put non-union men in the <i>Narcissus</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course&mdash;if they find out. But they'll not. Besides, we're going
+      to the Atlantic Coast, so why should we bring a high-priced crew into a
+      low-priced market, Mr. Ricks? Leave it to me, sir. I'll load the ship with
+      longshoremen entirely, and we'll sail with the crew of that German liner
+      that came a few days ago to intern in Richardson's Bay until the European
+      war is over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not partial to the German cause,&rdquo; Matt Peasley announced. &ldquo;So I'll
+      just veto that plan right now, Mike.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt, we're neutral,&rdquo; Cappy declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it pays to ship those Germans, Matt,&rdquo; Murphy continued. &ldquo;I confess
+      I'm for the Germans, although not to such an extent that I'd go round
+      offering them jobs just because they <i>are</i> Germans. But the minute I
+      heard about that interned boat I said to myself: 'Now, here's a chance to
+      save the <i>Narcissus</i> some money. The crew of that liner will all be
+      discharged now that she is interned. However, the local unions will not
+      admit them to membership and they cannot work on any Pacific Coast boat
+      unless they hold union cards. Consequently they must seek other
+      occupations, and as the chances are these fellows do not speak English,
+      they're up against it. Also, they are foreigners who have paid no head tax
+      when coming into the country, because they are seamen. They have the right
+      to land and stay ashore three months, if they state that it is their
+      intention to ship out again within that period; but if they do not so
+      ship, then the immigration authorities may deport them as paupers or for
+      failure to pay the head tax; and in that event they will all be returned
+      to the vessel that brought them here, and the owners of the vessel will be
+      forced to intern them and care for them.' Under the circumstances,
+      therefore, I concluded they would jump at a job in an American vessel, for
+      the reason that under the American flag they would be reasonably safe; and
+      even if the <i>Narcissus</i> should be searched by a British cruiser, she
+      would not dare take these Germans off her. Remember, we had a war with
+      England once for boarding our ships and removing seamen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,&rdquo; said Cappy Ricks, &ldquo;there's something in
+      that, Matt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's a splendid saving in the pay roll, let me tell you,&rdquo; the proud
+      Murphy continued. &ldquo;I took the matter up at once with the German skipper
+      and he fixed it for me, and mighty glad he was to get his countrymen off
+      his hands. We get all that liner's coal passers, oilers, firemen, six
+      deckhands and four quartermasters at the scale of wages prevailing in
+      Hamburg. I know what it is in marks, but I haven't figured it out in
+      dollars and cents, although whatever it is it's a scandal! It almost cuts
+      our pay roll in half.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you speak German, captain?&rdquo; Cappy queried excitedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not, sir&mdash;more's the pity. But the four quartermasters speak
+      fair English, and I have engaged two good German-American mates who speak
+      German. Reardon has shipped German-American engineers and some of his coal
+      passers and firemen speak fair English. I've got two Native Son Chinamen
+      in the galley and a Cockney steward. We'll get along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a rattling fine idea, too,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks declared warmly. &ldquo;Mike, my
+      boy, you're a wonder. That's the spirit. Always keep down the overhead,
+      Matt. That's what eats up the dividends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I wouldn't agree to it if the <i>Narcissus</i> wasn't going to be
+      engaged in neutral trade, or if she was carrying munitions of war to the
+      Allies,&rdquo; Matt declared. &ldquo;I'd be afraid some of Mike's Germans might blow
+      up the ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me,&rdquo; quoth Michael J. Murphy, &ldquo;if she was engaged in freighting
+      munitions to England, it'd be a smart German that would get a chance to
+      blow her up. I think I'd scuttle her myself first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mike, if your courage failed you,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks replied laughingly,
+      &ldquo;I think we could safely leave the job to Terence Reardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On that first voyage the <i>Narcissus</i> carried general cargo to
+      northern ports on the West Coast. Then she dropped down to a nitrate port
+      and loaded nitrate for New York, and about the time she passed through the
+      Panama Canal the Blue Star Navigation Company wired its New York agent to
+      provide some neutral business for her next voyage. Freights were soaring
+      by this time, due to the scarcity of the foreign bottoms which formerly
+      had carried Uncle Sam's goods to market, and Cappy Ricks and Matt Peasley
+      knew the rates would increase from day to day, and that in consequence
+      their New York agents would experience not the slightest difficulty in
+      placing her&mdash;hence they delayed as long as they could placing her on
+      the market.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the other hand, the New York agents, realizing that higher freight
+      rates meant a correspondingly higher commission for them on the charter,
+      held off until the <i>Narcissus</i> had almost finished discharging at
+      Hoboken before they closed with a fine old New York importing and
+      exporting house for a cargo of soft coal from Norfolk, Virginia, to
+      Manila, or Batavia. The charterers were undecided which of these two
+      cities would be the port of discharge, and stipulated that the vessel was
+      to call at Pernambuco, Brazil, for orders. The New York agents marvelled
+      at this for&mdash;to them&mdash;very obvious reasons; but inasmuch as the
+      charterers had offered a whopping freight rate and declined to do business
+      on any other basis, and since further the agent concluded it was no part
+      of his office to question the motives of a house that never before had
+      been subjected to suspicion, he concluded to protect himself by leaving
+      the decision to the owners of the <i>Narcissus</i>. Accordingly he wired
+      them as follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Blue Star Navigation Company,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;258 California St., San Francisco, Cal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have offer <i>Narcissus</i>, coal Norfolk Batavia or Manila, charterers
+      undecided, Pernambuco for orders, ten dollars per ton. Shall we close?
+      Answer.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;SEABORN&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      2 boards, 1&rdquo; x 8&rdquo; and up, and too great a percentage of 4&rdquo; x 6'-20' No. 1
+      clear. And there were mighty few clear twenty-foot logs coming into the
+      boom these days.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, will a cat eat liver?&rdquo; declared Cappy Ricks. &ldquo;I should say we do
+      accept. Why, man, she'll make forty thousand dollars on the voyage, and
+      whether she goes to Batavia or Manila, we're certain to get a cargo back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, I'll wire acceptance,&rdquo; Skinner replied, and paused long enough
+      to make a notation on the message: &ldquo;O.K.&mdash;Ricks.&rdquo; Mr. Skinner meant
+      nothing in particular by that. He was a model of efficiency, and that was
+      his little way of placing the responsibility for the decision in the event
+      that the wisdom of said decision should, at some future time, be
+      questioned. Mr. Skinner never took unnecessary chances. He always played a
+      safe game.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is necessary to state here also that Matt Peasley was not in the office
+      when that telegram arrived from Seaborn &amp; Company. If he had been this
+      story would never have been written. He was down at Hunter's Point
+      drydock, superintending the repairs to the steam schooner Amelia Ricks,
+      which recently on a voyage to Seattle had essayed the overland route via
+      Duxbury Reef. When Matt reached home that night he found his ingenious
+      father-in-law fairly purring with contentment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Matt, old horse,&rdquo; Cappy piped, &ldquo;I've chartered the Narcissus.
+      Norfolk to Batavia or Manila with coal. Got a glorious price&mdash;ten
+      dollars a ton. That's what we get for holding off until the last minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's encouraging,&rdquo; Matt answered pleasantly, and asked no further
+      questions. He was obsessed with the engines of the <i>Amelia Ricks</i>. It
+      was going to cost a lot of money to put them in condition again, and he
+      remarked as much to Cappy. Thus it happened that they entered into a
+      discussion of other matters, and the good ship <i>Narcissus</i>, having
+      finished discharging her cargo of nitrate, dropped down to Norfolk, where
+      Captain Michael J. Murphy proceeded to let a stream of coal into her at a
+      rate that promised to load her fully in less than four days.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is worthy of remark, at this juncture, that Mike Murphy and Terence
+      Reardon had, by this time, cast aside all appearance of even shirt-sleeve
+      diplomacy. Diplomatic relations had, in fact, been completely severed.
+      Crossing the Gulf Stream, Murphy had called the engine-room on the
+      speaking-tube and politely queried if Mr. Reardon didn't think he could
+      get a few more revolutions out of her. To this Mr. Reardon had replied
+      passionately that if such a thing were possible he would have done it long
+      ago without waiting to be told. He desired to inform Captain Murphy that
+      he knew his business; whereupon Murphy had replied that he never would
+      have guessed Mr. Reardon was that intelligent, judging by the face of him.
+      In disgust Mr. Reardon had replied: &ldquo;Aw, go to&mdash;&rdquo; and then tried to
+      close the speaking-tube before the captain would have the opportunity to
+      retort. However, Michael J. knew his own mind, and, like all the Irish,
+      was a marvel at repartee. Quick as was Terence Reardon, therefore, Michael
+      J. Murphy was quicker. Perhaps all of his message had not been delivered
+      before Reardon closed the tube, but the chief got enough of it for all
+      practical purposes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He caught one word&mdash;&ldquo;Renegade&rdquo;; a word so terrible that it left the
+      chief engineer speechless with fury, and before he could call the skipper
+      a baboon, the golden opportunity was gone. He closed the tube with a sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      While the <i>Narcissus</i> was loading, the Fates were keeping in reserve
+      for Cappy Ricks, Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner a blow that was to stun them
+      when it fell. About the time the <i>Narcissus</i>, fully loaded, was
+      snoring out to sea past Old Point Comfort, Matt Peasley came across
+      Seaborn &amp; Company's telegram in the unanswered-correspondence tray on
+      his desk. Five times he read it; and then, in the language of the poet,
+      hell began to pop!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks came out of a gentle doze to find his big son-in-law waving
+      the telegram under his nose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why didn't you tell me?&rdquo; Matt Peasley bawled, for all the world as if
+      Cappy was a very stupid mate and all the canvas had just been blown out of
+      the bolt-ropes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why didn't you ask me, you big stiff?&rdquo; shrilled Cappy. He didn't know
+      what was coming, but instinct told him it was awful, so he resolved
+      instantly to meet it with a brave front. &ldquo;Don't you yell at me, young
+      feller. Now then, what do you want to find out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why didn't you tell me the <i>Narcissus</i> was to drop in at Pernambuco
+      for orders?&rdquo; roared Matt wrathfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy pursed his lips and calmly rang for Mr. Skinner. He eyed the general
+      manager over the rims of his spectacles for fully thirty seconds. Then:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, what the devil's wrong with you of late? It's getting so I can't
+      trust you to do anything any more. Tut, tut! Not a peep out of you, sir.
+      Now then, answer me: Why didn't you tell me, Skinner, that the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      was to call in at Pernambuco for orders?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I read you the telegram, sir,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner replied coldly, and pointed to
+      the notation: &ldquo;O.K.&mdash;Ricks,&rdquo; the badge of his infernal efficiency. &ldquo;I
+      read that telegram to you, sir,&rdquo; he repeated, &ldquo;and asked you if I should
+      close. You said to close. I closed. That's all I know about it. You and
+      Matt are in charge of the shipping and I decline to be dragged into any
+      disputes originating in your department. All I have to say is that if you
+      two can't run the shipping end and run it right, just turn it over to me
+      and I'll run it&mdash;right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Completely vindicated, Mr. Skinner struck a distinctly defiant attitude
+      and awaited the next move on the part of Cappy. The latter, thoroughly
+      crushed&mdash;for he knew the devilish Skinner never made any mistakes&mdash;looked
+      up at his son-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he demanded, &ldquo;what's your grouch against Pernambuco?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive me for bawling you out that way,&rdquo; Matt replied, &ldquo;but I guess
+      you'd bawl, too, if somebody who should have known better had placed a
+      fine ship in jeopardy for you. It just breaks me all up to think you may
+      have lost my steamer <i>Narcissus</i>&mdash;the first steamer I ever owned
+      too&mdash;and to be lost on her second voyage under the Blue Star flag&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our <i>Narcissus</i>, if you please,&rdquo; Cappy shrilled. &ldquo;You gibbering
+      jackdaw! Out with it! Where do you get that stuff&mdash;lose your steamer
+      on her second voyage! Why, she's snug in Norfolk this minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If she only is,&rdquo; Matt almost wailed, &ldquo;she'll never be permitted to clear
+      with that German crew aboard. Pernambuco for orders! Suffering sailor! And
+      you, of all men, to put over a charter like that! Pernambuco! Pernambuco!
+      Pernambuco&mdash;for&mdash;orders! Do you get it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't. It's over my head and into the bleachers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must say, my dear Matt,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner struck in blandly, &ldquo;that I also
+      fail to apprehend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't you two ever go to school?&rdquo; Matt raved. &ldquo;Didn't you ever study
+      geography? Why under the canopy should we waste our time and burn up our
+      good coal steaming to Pernambuco, Brazil, South America, for orders? Let
+      me put it to you two in words of one syllable: The <i>Narcissus</i> is
+      chartered to carry a cargo of coal from Norfolk, Virginia, to Batavia or
+      Manila. At the time of charter&mdash;and sailing&mdash;the charterers are
+      undecided which port she is to discharge at, so they ask us to step over
+      to Pernambuco and find out. Now, whether the vessel discharges at Batavia
+      or Manila, her course in the Atlantic Ocean while en route to either port
+      is identical! She passes round the Cape of Good Hope, which is at the
+      extreme south end of Africa. If her course, on the contrary, was round
+      Cape Horn or through the Straits of Magellan there might be some sense in
+      sending her over to the east coast of South America for orders. But
+      whether she is ordered to Manila or Batavia, the fact remains that she
+      must put in to Durban, South Africa, for fuel to continue her voyage; so
+      why in the name of the Flying Dutchman couldn't the charterers cable the
+      orders to Mike Murphy at Durban? The <i>Narcissus</i> is worth a thousand
+      dollars a day, so you waste a few thousand dollars worth of her time, at
+      the very least, sending her to Pernambuco when a ten-dollar cablegram to
+      Durban would have done the business! I suppose all you two brilliant
+      shipping men could see was a ten-dollar-a-ton freight rate. Eh? You&mdash;landlubbers!
+      A-a-g-r-r-h! I was never so angry since the day I was born.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While Matt ranted on, Mr. Skinner's classic features had been slowly
+      taking on the general color tones of a ripe old Edam cheese, while at the
+      conclusion of Matt's oration Cappy Ricks' eyes were sticking out like twin
+      semaphores. He clasped his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!&rdquo; he murmured in an awed voice. &ldquo;There's a
+      nigger in the woodpile.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I very greatly fear,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner chattered, &ldquo;that you are mistaken, Mr.
+      Ricks. Something tells me it's a German!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, well!&rdquo; Matt Peasley sneered. &ldquo;Skinner, take the head of the
+      class. Really, I believe I begin to pick up signs of human intelligence in
+      this sea of maritime ignorance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Matt, quit your jawing and break the news to me quickly,&rdquo; Cappy
+      pleaded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven't you been reading the papers, sir? Australian and Japanese
+      warships have been hunting for the German Pacific fleet for the past few
+      weeks, and the Germans have been on the dodge. Therefore, they've been
+      burning coal. They are only allowed to remain in a neutral port
+      twenty-four hours, and can only take on sufficient coal and stores to
+      enable them to reach the nearest German port. Consequently, since they
+      have been afraid to enter a neutral port, for fear of giving away their
+      position, it follows that they've had to stay at sea&mdash;and naturally
+      they have run short of coal. A few steamers have cleared from San
+      Francisco with coal, ostensibly for discharge at Chilean or Mexican ports,
+      but in reality for delivery to the German fleet at sea, but even with
+      these few deliveries, there is a coal famine. And now that the Pacific is
+      getting too hot for it, the general impression is that the German fleet
+      will try to get through the Straits of Magellan, for, once in the
+      Atlantic, coal will be easier to get. More ships, you know; more
+      ship-owners willing to take a chance for wartime profits&mdash;and they
+      say Brazil is rather friendly to the German cause. We will assume,
+      therefore, that the German secret agents in this country realize it is
+      inevitable that Von Spee's fleet must be forced into the Atlantic; hence,
+      in anticipation of that extremity, they are arranging for the delivery of
+      coal to those harassed cruisers. The agent in Pernambuco is probably in
+      constant communication with the fleet by wireless; the fleet will probably
+      come ranging up the coast of South America, destroying British commerce,
+      or some of the ships may cross over to the Indian Ocean and join the <i>Emden</i>,
+      raiding in those waters. So the German secret agents charter our huge <i>Narcissus</i>,
+      load her with ten thousand tons of coal&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley paused and bent a beetling glance, first at Cappy Ricks and
+      then at Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was she to carry soft coal or anthracite?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner quavered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Search me!&rdquo; Cappy Ricks piped up sourly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought so. For the sake of argument we'll assume it's soft coal,
+      because anthracite has not as yet become popular as steamship fuel. Well,
+      we will assume our vessel gets to Pernambuco. If, in the meantime, the
+      German admiral wirelesses his Pernambuco agent, 'Send a jag of coal into
+      the Indian Ocean,' to the Indian Ocean goes the <i>Narcissus</i>, and
+      presently she finds a German warship or two or three ranging along in her
+      course. They pick her up, help themselves to her coal, give Mike Murphy a
+      certificate of confiscation for her cargo, to be handed to the owners, who
+      in this case will be good, loyal sons of the Fatherland and offer no
+      objection&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks interrupted. &ldquo;And if, on the other hand, the German
+      admiral says, 'Send a jag of coal to meet us in a certain latitude and
+      longitude off the River Plate,' and Mike Murphy objects, that German crew
+      on our <i>Narcissus</i> will just naturally lock Mike Murphy up in his
+      cabin and take the vessel away from him! When they're through with her
+      they'll give her back&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not so certain they'll have to lock him up in his cabin in order to
+      get the ship,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner struck in, a note of alarm in his voice. &ldquo;Mike
+      Murphy is so pro-German&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ow! Wow! That hurts,&rdquo; Cappy wailed. &ldquo;So he is! I never thought of that.
+      And now that you speak of it, I recall it was his idea, getting that crew
+      of Germans aboard! He said it would cut down expenses. Holy mackerel,
+      Matt; do you think it was a frameup?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I do, but&mdash;Mike Murphy wasn't in on it. You can bank on
+      that. No piratical foreigner will ever climb up on Mike Murphy's deck
+      except over Mike Murphy's dead body. According to the president emeritus
+      there is more than one kind of Irish, but I'll guarantee Mike Murphy isn't
+      the double-crossing kind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A boy entered with a telegram. It was a day letter filed by Mike Murphy in
+      Norfolk that morning, and Matt Peasley read it aloud:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sailing at noon. Regret your failure take me into your confidence when
+      deciding withdraw vessel from neutral trade. If orders send me to either
+      of ports named in charter party and I am overhauled <i>en route</i>, that
+      is your funeral. If orders conflict with charter party, as I suspect they
+      may, that may be my funeral. Regretfully I shall resign at Pernambuco. You
+      know your own business, and I cannot believe you would go it blind; if you
+      change your mind before arrival Pernambuco, cable care American Consul and
+      will do my best for you.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;M. J. M.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Gappy Ricks sprang into the air and tried to crack his aged ankles
+      together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saved!&rdquo; he croaked. &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-toed Prophet! Saved! Bully for Mike
+      Murphy! Say, when that fellow gets back, if I don't do something handsome
+      for him&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley's scowls had been replaced by smiles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless his old Mickedonian heart!&rdquo; he said fervently. &ldquo;He thinks the
+      coal is for that British fleet reported to be <i>en route</i> across the
+      Atlantic to give battle to the German Pacific fleet; or for Admiral
+      Craddock's Pacific fleet in case the Germans chase it back into the
+      Atlantic. He knows that we know he is pro-German and for anything that's
+      against England&mdash;and if he makes up his mind the coal is for the
+      British fleet he'll resign before delivering it! By Judas, this would be
+      funny if it wasn't so blamed serious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be forewarned is to be forearmed,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner quoted sagely. &ldquo;It is
+      most fortunate for us that Murphy's suspicions do us a grave injustice. We
+      know now that he will call on the American consul at Pernambuco and ask
+      for a cablegram.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and by thunder! we'll send it,&rdquo; Cappy declared joyously. &ldquo;Cable him,
+      Skinner, to fire that German crew so fast one might play checkers on their
+      coat tails as they go overside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to heaven I could wireless him to put back to New York and ship a
+      new crew,&rdquo; Matt Peasley mourned. &ldquo;There's just a possibility that German
+      crew of his may take over the ship on the high seas and not put into
+      Pernambuco at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can only wait and pray,&rdquo; said Mr. Skinner piously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair and, pop-eyed with horror,
+      gazed at his son-in-law over the rims of his spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;you're as cheerful as a funeral. Here we have this
+      thing all settled, and you have to go to work and rip the silver lining
+      out of our cloud of contentment. And the worst of it is, by golly, I think
+      there's something in that theory of yours after all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We should always be prepared to meet the worst, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner
+      admonished the president emeritus. &ldquo;While piracy as a practice practically
+      perished prior to the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner! In the fiend's name, spare us this alliteration and humbug,&rdquo;
+       Cappy fairly shrieked. &ldquo;You're driving me crazy. If it isn't platitude,
+      it's your dog-gone habit of initialing things!&rdquo; He placed his old elbows
+      on his knees and bowed his head in his hands. &ldquo;If I'm not the original Mr.
+      Tight Wad!&rdquo; he lamented. &ldquo;But you must forgive me, Matt. I got in the
+      habit of thinking of expense when I was young, and I've never gotten over
+      it. You know how a habit gets a grip on a man, don't you, Matt? Oh, if you
+      had only overruled me when I decided to save money by cutting out the
+      wireless on the <i>Narcissus!</i> I remember now you wanted it, and I
+      said: 'Well, what's the use? The <i>Narcissus</i> hasn't any passenger
+      license and she doesn't have to have wireless&mdash;so why do something we
+      don't have to do?' Skinner, you should have known enough&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am managing the lumber end of the business, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; Skinner
+      retorted icily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind what you're managing. You're my balance wheel. I've raised you
+      for that very purpose. I've been twenty-five years breaking you in to your
+      job of relieving me of my business worries&mdash;and you don't do it. No,
+      you don't, Skinner. Don't deny it, now. You don't. I pay you to boss me,
+      but do you do it? No, sir. You let me have my own way&mdash;when I'm round
+      you're afraid to say your soul's your own. You two boys know blamed well
+      I'm an old man and that an old man will make mistakes. It is your duty to
+      watch me. I pay the money, but I don't get the service. When Matt argued
+      with me about the wireless you sided in with me, Skinner. You've got that
+      infernal saving habit, too&mdash;drat you! Don't deny it, Skinner. I can
+      see by the look in your eye you're fixing to contradict me. You're as
+      miserable a miser as I am&mdash;afraid to spend five cents and play safe&mdash;you
+      penurious&mdash;er&mdash;er&mdash;fellow! Skinner, if you ever forget
+      yourself long enough to give three hoots in hell you'll want one of them
+      back. See now what your niggardly policy has done for us? At a time when
+      we'd hock our immortal souls for a wireless to talk to Mike Murphy and
+      tell him things, where are we?&rdquo; Cappy snapped his fingers. &ldquo;Up Salt Creek&mdash;without
+      a paddle!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come,&rdquo; Matt said soothingly, &ldquo;As Skinner says, we can only wait and
+      pray&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. You two do the praying. I'm going to sit here and cuss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we'll hope for the best, Mr. Ricks. No more crying over spilled
+      milk now. I'll figure out when the <i>Narcissus</i> is due at Pernambuco
+      and cable Mike to let his crew go. And you know, sir, even if he should
+      not receive our cablegram, we have still one hope left. True, it is a
+      forlorn one, but it's worth a small bet. The crew of the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      is not all German. There are&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two pro-German Irishmen, two disinterested Native Son Chinamen and a
+      little runt of a Cockney steward,&rdquo; Cappy sneered. &ldquo;And she carries a crew
+      of forty, all told. Matt, those odds are too long for any bet of mine.
+      Besides, Reardon and Murphy hate each other. A house divided against
+      itself, you know&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They might bang each other all over the main deck,&rdquo; Matt replied
+      musingly, &ldquo;but I'll bet they'll fight side by side for the ship. Of course
+      we haven't known Terence Reardon very long; he may be a bad one after all;
+      but Mike Murphy will go far. He's as cunning as a pet fox, and he may make
+      up in strategy what he lacks in numbers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Irish are so filled with blarney&mdash;&rdquo; Skinner began, but Cappy cut
+      him short with a terrible look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There goes some more of our silver lining,&rdquo; he rasped. &ldquo;Skinner, what are
+      you? A kill-joy? Now, just for that, I'm going to agree with Matt. A man
+      has got to believe something in this world or go crazy, and I prefer to
+      believe that the ship is safe with those two Hibernians aboard&mdash;win,
+      lose or draw. And I want you two to quit picking on me; I don't want the
+      word '<i>Narcissus</i>' mentioned in my presence until the ship is
+      reported confiscated by the British, if her coal is for the Germans, or by
+      the Germans, if her coal is for the British&mdash;which it isn't&mdash;or
+      until Mike Murphy reports at Manila or Batavia and cables us for orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm with you there, sir,&rdquo; Matt Peasley declared. &ldquo;I'm going to bank on
+      the Irish, and refuse to believe it possible for the <i>Nar</i>&mdash;for
+      a certain vessel flying our house-flag to be caught by the wrong warship,
+      a couple of thousand miles off her course and with coal, or evidences of
+      coal, in her cargo space. Buck up, Skinner. A little Christian Science
+      here, boy. Just make up your mind no man in authority is going to come
+      over the rail of the&mdash;of a certain vessel&mdash;and ask Mike Murphy
+      or his successor <i>pro tem.</i>, for a look at his papers!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If she ever is confiscated on an illegal errand,&rdquo; Skinner mourned, &ldquo;and
+      Mike Murphy has nothing more tangible than a dime-novel tale of coercion
+      as an excuse for being in that latitude and longitude&mdash;well, we'll
+      never get our bully big ship back again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And for the first time in his life the efficient Mr. Skinner so far forgot
+      himself as to swear in the office!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Throughout the long, lazy days that the <i>Narcissus</i> rolled into the
+      South, Captain Michael J. Murphy's alert brain was busy every spare
+      moment, striving to discover, in the incomprehensible charter his owners
+      had made for him, what the French call <i>la raison d'etre.</i> Not having
+      any wireless, he was unable to keep in touch with the stirring events
+      being enacted in Europe and on the high seas, as news of the said events
+      filtered by him through space. While on the West Coast, where all the
+      newspapers are printed in Spanish, he had been equally barred from keeping
+      in touch with the war, although <i>en route</i> through the Panama Canal
+      he did his best to buy up all the old newspapers on the Zone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon arrival in New York with his cargo of nitrate, his anxiety to make a
+      record in his first command in steam caused him to stay on the job every
+      moment the <i>Narcissus</i> was discharging, for Cappy Ricks had impressed
+      upon him, as he impressed upon every skipper in the Blue Star employ, the
+      fact that a slow boat is slow paying dividends. Consequently, the worthy
+      captain had had no time to acquaint himself with the movements of the
+      various fleets, and when he sent his day letter to his owners on the
+      morning of the day he sailed from Norfolk for Pernambuco, his action was
+      predicated, not on what he knew, but on what he felt. The sixth sense that
+      all real sailors possess warned him that his cargo of coal was not
+      destined for Batavia nor yet Manila, but for delivery at sea to the
+      warships of some foreign nation. Devoutly Michael J. hoped it wasn't for
+      the British fleet, since in such a contingency he would be cruelly torn
+      between his love and duty. Consequently he resolved that, should the
+      choice of alternatives be forced upon him, he would steer a middle course
+      and resign his command.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the other hand, Mike Murphy knew Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks to be
+      intensely pro-Ally in their sympathies, despite the President's
+      proclamation of neutrality and the polite requests of the motion-picture
+      houses for their audiences to remain perfectly quiet while Field-Marshal
+      von Hindenburg, Sir John French and General Joffre came on the screen and
+      bowed. Under the circumstances, therefore, Murphy found it very difficult
+      to suspect his owners of conspiring to deliver a cargo of coal to the
+      German fleet at sea. No, indeed! Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks were too
+      intensely American for that; indeed, Cappy was always saying he hoped to
+      see an American mercantile marine established before he should be gathered
+      to the bosom of Abraham.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From whatever angle the doughty skipper viewed it, therefore, the tangle
+      became more and more incomprehensible. Cappy and Matt knew full well the
+      rules of the game as promulgated by their Uncle Samuel, and the dire
+      penalties for infraction. However, granted that they knew they could
+      scheme successfully to evade punishment at the hands of their own
+      government, Mike Murphy knew full well that no man could guarantee
+      immunity from the right of a belligerent warship to visit and search, or
+      from confiscation or months of demurrage in a prize court in the event
+      that his ship's papers and the course the vessel was travelling failed to
+      justify her presence in that particular longitude and latitude. And with
+      the huge profits to be made in neutral trade, it seemed incomprehensible
+      that a sound business man like Cappy Ricks should assume all these risks
+      for the sake of a little extra money. Surely he must realize that if he
+      sent her on an illegal errand her war-risk insurance would not hold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the other hand, it appeared to Murphy that the charter must have been
+      consummated with the full knowledge and consent of the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company, for the veriest tyro in the shipping business could
+      not have failed to be suspicious of that clause in the charter party,
+      stipulating a call at Pernambuco for orders. Of course there was the
+      possibility that this acquiescence had been due to misrepresentation on
+      the part of the New York agents or rank stupidity on the part of the Blue
+      Star Navigation Company. But Seaborn &amp; Company were above a shady
+      deal. In putting through the charter for the Blue Star Navigation Company
+      it might have occurred to them that all was not as it should be, but that
+      was none of their business. If they spread their hand and permitted Cappy
+      Ricks an unobstructed view, it was up to Cappy to decide and order them to
+      close or reject the charter. As for stupidity on the part of the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company, Murphy knew full well that stupidity was the crime
+      Cappy Ricks found it hardest to forgive. Even had Cappy overlooked that
+      suspicious clause in the charter, because of his age, Matt Peasley's youth
+      and practical maritime knowledge should have offset Cappy's error; and
+      even if both had erred, there still remained the matchless Skinner, as
+      suspicious as a burglar, as keen as a razor, as infallible as a
+      chronometer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No, it just didn't seem possible that the Blue Star Navigation Company had
+      gone into the deal with eyes wide open; on the contrary, it seemed equally
+      impossible that they had gone into it with their eyes shut. Consequently
+      Michael J. decided to wake them up&mdash;provided they slept on the job&mdash;and
+      to give them an opportunity to repent before it should be too late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He felt very much better after sending that telegram, but as the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      ploughed steadily south at the rate of two hundred and thirty miles a day,
+      he began to grieve because he had no wireless to bring him a prompt reply;
+      he berated himself for not waiting at the dock in Norfolk until his owners
+      should have had an opportunity to answer; he abused himself for his
+      timidity in questioning the judgment of his owners, for indeed he had been
+      content to hint when more decisive action was demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How Michael J. Murphy yearned to discuss his problem with some one as
+      loyal and devoted to the Blue Star Navigation Company as himself! His
+      dignity as master of the <i>Narcissus</i>, however, bade him refrain from
+      discussing the integrity of his owners with his mates&mdash;particularly
+      with new mates, to whom the house-flag stood for naught but a symbol of
+      monthly revenue. In fact, of the forty-one men under him, there was but
+      one with whom he could, with entire dignity, discuss the matter. That man
+      was Terence Reardon. But even here he was barred, for since he had called
+      the chief engineer a renegade, the only possible discussion that could
+      obtain between them now must be anything but academic; in consequence of
+      which Michael J. Murphy was forced to hug his apprehensions to himself
+      until the <i>Narcissus</i> steamed slowly into the outer harbor of
+      Pernambuco. Ten minutes after she dropped her big hook the skipper's
+      suspicions were crystallized into certainty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just as she came to anchor the steward appeared on deck, vociferously
+      beating his triangle to announce supper&mdash;for at sea dinner is always
+      supper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Schultz,&rdquo; the captain called from the bridge, &ldquo;as soon as your men
+      have had their supper clear away the working boat. I'm going ashore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very vell, sir,&rdquo; Mr. Schultz replied heartily, and the captain went below
+      to supper. He was scarcely seated before Mr. Schultz stuck his head in the
+      dining saloon window and announced that a gentleman who claimed to
+      represent the charterers was alongside in a launch and desired to come
+      aboard and speak with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let down the accommodation ladder, Mr. Schultz, and when the gentleman
+      comes aboard, show him round to my state-room,&rdquo; the skipper answered.
+      &ldquo;I'll meet him there in a pig's whisper. It is probable he has come aboard
+      with our orders, Mr. Schultz, so never mind clearing away the boat until I
+      speak to you further about it. Steward, set an extra cover at my right. We
+      may have a guest for supper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He hurried round to his state-room and donned a uniform coat to receive
+      his visitor. Mr. Schultz came presently, bearing a visiting-card upon
+      which was engraved the name: Mr. August Carl von Staden. Behind the mate a
+      sailor with a bulging suitcase stood at attention; two more sailors stood
+      behind the first, a steamer trunk between them, and as Captain Murphy
+      stepped out on deck to greet his visitor he observed a tall, athletic,
+      splendid-looking fellow coming leisurely toward him along the deck. The
+      stranger carried a large Gladstone bag.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain bowed. &ldquo;I am the skipper of this big box,&rdquo; he announced
+      pleasantly. &ldquo;Murphy is my name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr von Staden shook hands and in most excellent English, without the
+      slightest trace of a German accent, expressed his pleasure in the meeting.
+      The captain cast a glance of frank curiosity at the bag von Staden carried
+      and at the baggage the sailors had in tow. Von Staden interpreted the
+      glance and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have brought you your orders, Captain Murphy. They are contained in
+      this envelope;&rdquo; and he handed a blank envelope to the captain. &ldquo;However, I
+      happened to know that one of the orders is to provide a berth for me. I'm
+      to go with you as supercargo.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hadn't heard anything about such a possibility,&rdquo; Mike Murphy replied,
+      with just a shade of formality in his tones. He turned to the first mate:
+      &ldquo;Mr. Schultz, will you be good enough to see to it that Mr. von Staden's
+      baggage is stowed in the owners' suite. Then tell the steward to see that
+      our guest's quarters are put in order. Mr. von Staden, will you kindly
+      step into my stateroom here while I read these orders?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Staden nodded. Entering the captain's room he sat down on the settee
+      and lighted a gold-tipped cigarette, while Murphy tore open the envelope.
+      It contained a cablegram reading as follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Staden &amp; Ulrich,&mdash;Pernambuco, Brazil,&mdash;Ornillo
+      Montevideo.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;BLUESTAR.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      The captain reached for his telegraphic-code book. When decoded the
+      message read:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Instruct captain to proceed to Montevideo and there await further orders.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;BLUE STAR NAVIGATION COMPANY.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      The cablegram had been filed at San Francisco two days before. Murphy
+      looked keenly at his guest, who smoked tranquilly and returned the look
+      without interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. von Staden,&rdquo; the captain announced, &ldquo;these are strange orders, in
+      view of the fact that I cleared from New York for Manila or Batavia, via
+      the Cape of Good Hope. It would be a sure sign of bad luck to the steamer
+      <i>Narcissus</i> if a British cruiser should pick her up off the coast of
+      Uruguay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Staden smiled. &ldquo;You are very direct, captain&mdash;very blunt indeed.
+      This is a characteristic more Teutonic than Celtic, I believe, so I shall
+      experience no embarrassment in being equally frank with you. Your cargo of
+      coal is designed for our German Pacific fleet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guessed as much, sir. Nevertheless, my owners did not see fit to take
+      me into their confidence in this illegal undertaking, Mr. von Staden&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They did not think it necessary,&rdquo; von Staden interrupted smilingly. &ldquo;In
+      fact, Captain Peasley assured our people in New York that your sympathies
+      are so overwhelming in favor of our cause we need anticipate no worry as
+      to the course you would pursue. Moreover, in the event of a judicial
+      inquiry it would be an advantage if you could say that you had had no
+      voice in the matter, but had been instructed to obey the orders of the
+      charterers&mdash;of whom we are the agents in Pernambuco. Perhaps this
+      cablegram will allay your fears,&rdquo; and he drew an unopened cablegram from
+      his pocket and handed it to Murphy. It was a code cablegram, signed by the
+      Blue Star Navigation Company and addressed to Murphy in care of von Staden
+      &amp; Ulrich. When decoded it read:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Execute the orders of supercargo if possible. It may lead to further
+      business. Charterers must take the risk. We do not think there is any
+      risk. Please remain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This cablegram was signed &ldquo;Matt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, captain?&rdquo; von Staden queried politely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't like this business at all,&rdquo; the captain replied. &ldquo;My owners may
+      think there is no risk, but I'm afraid. England controls the seas&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are in possession of the secret code of the British Navy, Captain
+      Murphy. We know the approximate location of every British warship in the
+      Atlantic and Pacific&mdash;and I assure you there is no risk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my boss informs me the charterers assume the risk, so I suppose I
+      shouldn't worry over the Blue Star Navigation Company's end of the gamble.
+      They know their own business, I dare say. Evidently they feared I might
+      want to resign, so I have been asked to remain; and when Captain Peasley
+      says 'please' to me, Mr. von Staden, I find it very, very hard to refuse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad, for the sake of our selfish interests, my dear captain, to
+      find you so loyal to your owners' financial interests,&rdquo; the supercargo
+      replied heartily. &ldquo;Now that you have decided to remain, I need not point
+      out to you the danger of a resignation at this time. It might lead to some
+      unlooked-for developments which might prejudice your owners, although I
+      think they have covered their tracks very effectually. Nevertheless, it is
+      not well to take the slightest risk&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without being well paid for it,&rdquo; Murphy interrupted sneeringly. &ldquo;My
+      owners have been well paid for their risk, but where do I come in? I
+      haven't been promised double my usual salary, or a split on the profits of
+      the voyage; and I know if I were to command a vessel loaded with munitions
+      of war I would not be asked to take her into the North Sea at the
+      customary skipper's wages. I'd be offered a large bonus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget, my dear captain, that your charterers assume all the risks.
+      One of them was the risk that you might resign unless you received
+      adequate compensation. I came aboard prepared to insure that risk,&rdquo; and he
+      touched with his toe the Gladstone bag. &ldquo;What do you say to $5,000?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy smiled. &ldquo;It is pleasant, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to be paid
+      $5,000 for doing something one yearns to do for nothing. I am not a hog.
+      Five thousand dollars is sufficient. How do I get it&mdash;and when?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In gold coin of the United States, or gold certificates of the same
+      interesting country, my dear captain, and you may have it immediately.&rdquo;
+       Again Herr von Staden kicked the Gladstone bag.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take it in gold certificates. And in order that my dear old father
+      and mother may have the benefit of my rascality in case anything
+      unforeseen should arise to prevent my return, I suggest you hand over the
+      boodle this minute, and I'll go ashore and express it home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain Murphy, you are a man after my own heart&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not a born fool, sir,&rdquo; Murphy interrupted. &ldquo;I'm accepting this money
+      to be a fool, well knowing it is foolish to do it, for still I am taking a
+      risk. I am thirty-eight years old, Mr. von Staden, and a skipper as young
+      as that has his future all before him. Set him down on the beach, however,
+      with his ticket revoked for all time&mdash;and his future is behind him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that event,&rdquo; the supercargo replied, &ldquo;you might accept my assurance,
+      without questioning my authority for such assurance, that you would have
+      no difficulty in procuring a remunerative position ashore. The firm of von
+      Staden &amp; Ulrich could use you very handily.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir. Consider the matter settled. Will you come ashore with
+      me, sir, and dine, or would you prefer to have supper aboard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg of you to be excused from going ashore, captain. I have much to do
+      to-night. The launch which brought me alongside has a knocked-down
+      wireless plant aboard, and I am anxious to have it set up on your good
+      ship <i>Narcissus</i>&mdash;a task I shall have to oversee personally. I
+      shall probably work all night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Praise be!&rdquo; Michael J. Murphy answered heartily. &ldquo;We'll have some
+      interest in life now. We can get all the war news, going and coming, can't
+      we? Have you brought along an operator?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am an operator,&rdquo; the supercargo answered. &ldquo;By the by, can you fix me up
+      with a wireless room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are two staterooms and a bath in the owners' suite which you will
+      occupy. You can take your choice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good. I shall want to sleep close to my instrument.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened the bag, counted out five one-thousand-dollar gold certificates
+      of the United States of America and handed them to the captain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The grand old rag,&rdquo; Michael J. murmured. &ldquo;How many rascals fight under
+      the flag of old King Spondulics!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you have an Irish chief engineer,&rdquo; von Staden continued. &ldquo;While
+      I understand his sympathies are with us, still it seems only right to
+      compensate&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suit yourself, Mr. von Staden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What kind of a man is he, captain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd hate to tell you. I've had little to do with him, but that little was
+      enough. We avoid each other as much as possible and never speak except in
+      the line of duty. I make no bones of the fact that I think he's a scrub.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. von Staden nodded sagely. &ldquo;Perhaps I'd better wait and get acquainted
+      with him,&rdquo; he suggested, and closed his bag. Murphy showed him to his
+      quarters, which the steward, under the first mate's supervision, was
+      already setting in order; and, having decided to set up the wireless in
+      the sleeping-room, von Staden accompanied the skipper round to superintend
+      the taking on board of the wireless plant from the gasoline launch bobbing
+      alongside. When the equipment was finally hoisted to the deck of the <i>Narcissus</i>,
+      Michael J, Murphy boarded the launch and was whisked ashore for the avowed
+      purpose of sending to his aged parents the fruits of his elastic
+      conscience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr August Carl von Staden stood at the head of the accommodation ladder
+      and smiled as the launch disappeared into the tropic twilight. Then he
+      said something in German to Mr. Schultz, who laughed. Evidently it was
+      very good news, for even the quartermaster at the companion ladder smiled
+      covertly. It is possible they would not have felt so cheerful had they
+      known that Michael J. Murphy's &ldquo;dear old father and mother&rdquo; had been
+      sleeping in a Boston cemetery some fifteen years, and that their last
+      words to Michael had been an exhortation to remember that manliness and
+      honor must be his only heritage. And as the launch bore him shoreward, he
+      looked back and grinned at the dim, duck-clad figure of von Staden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your agents looked me up, my hearty,&rdquo; he soliloquized, &ldquo;and if they did
+      their work half well, they told you I was an honest man. Only a crook
+      comes with a bag of gold to talk illegitimate business with an honest man.
+      I'm banking you're as crooked as a bed spring, and that there's something
+      fishy about this enterprise. Cappy Ricks isn't fully informed, otherwise
+      he wouldn't be doing business with a crook!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Arrived ashore, Captain Murphy hurried to the cable office, registered his
+      cable address, borrowed a code book and sent a code telegram to his owner.
+      Then, having subsidized the operator liberally to rush it, Michael J.
+      Murphy set out for a stroll among the limited attractions of Pernambuco.
+      His cablegram would get through in two hours at the very most, and though
+      the captain figured the Blue Star offices would be closed when the message
+      reached San Francisco, still he was not discouraged. He knew the cable
+      company always telephoned to Mr. Skinner, at his home, all Blue Star and
+      Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging messages arriving after office hours and before
+      midnight. Naturally Skinner could be depended upon to have a copy of the
+      code at home, and if he didn't Murphy knew he would rush down to the
+      office, no matter what the hour, and decode it there. Of course he would
+      cable his reply immediately, in which event it might be that the captain
+      would have an answer shortly after midnight or by breakfast at the latest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He decided, therefore, to return to the cable office about midnight and
+      await the reply to his cablegram. He had proceeded but a few blocks from
+      the cable office, however, before a disturbing thought struck him with
+      such force as to bring him to an abrupt pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>His owners had cabled him in care of von Staden &amp; Ulrich, when in
+      the telegram sent just before sailing from Norfolk he had instructed them
+      to cable him in care of the American consul.</i> Murphy's native
+      shrewdness had made him suspicious of von Staden the instant the latter
+      had so nonchalantly offered him a bribe of five thousand dollars, for the
+      proffer of a bribe of that magnitude, without any preliminary bargaining,
+      did not co-ordinate with Michael's idea of business. Certainly if the
+      charterers had his owners &ldquo;fixed,&rdquo; five thousand dollars was too much
+      money to give their captain, particularly since there were available any
+      number of capable rascals eager to do the job for twenty-five hundred, and
+      the devil take the consequences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the time von Staden had handed him the two cablegrams from the Blue
+      Star Navigation Company, no suspicion that they were forgeries had entered
+      the captain's mind; indeed, Matt Peasley's cablegram to him appeared at
+      first blush to be an answer to the telegram which Murphy had sent his
+      owners from Norfolk. In that telegram Murphy had mentioned his suspicions
+      and hinted at unwarranted risks and the possibility of the circumstances
+      attending the delivery of his cargo forcing his resignation. Matt's
+      cablegram handed him by von Staden urged him to remain in the ship and
+      assured him there were no risks; that if there were, the charterers
+      assumed them. For the nonce, therefore, the master's mind did not dwell on
+      any doubts as to the genuineness of the orders he had received, even
+      though he decided instantly as a precautionary measure to confirm them
+      before proceeding to carry them out. This, however, was merely because he
+      was suspicious of von Staden and desired to obviate the possibility of
+      that individual's double-crossing the Blue Star Navigation Company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the circumstances, therefore, he had considered it good policy to
+      appear to fall readily in line, and, the better to disarm von Staden's
+      watchfulness, he had demanded extra compensation. The ease with which the
+      bribe had been secured having crystallized his suspicions, instantly he
+      had cast about in his ingenious brain for a good sound excuse for going
+      ashore and cabling his owners. To demand his bribe in advance and then
+      announce that he would go ashore and express it to those dependent upon
+      him, in case he failed to return and enjoy it himself, seemed to present a
+      reason that would not be questioned and accordingly he had done so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy removed his uniform cap and thoughtfully scratched his
+      head. &ldquo;Now why,&rdquo; he demanded of the scented night, &ldquo;did Matt cable me in
+      care of that German firm when he must have known I would call on the
+      American consul in the expectation of finding a cablegram there?&rdquo; He shook
+      his head. &ldquo;They've got us winging, Michael,&rdquo; he soliloquized, &ldquo;so I
+      suppose the only thing to do is to play safe, call upon the American
+      consul immediately if not sooner, and ask if he has a cablegram for us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And without further ado the worthy fellow sprang into a cab and was
+      whirled away to the residence of the American consul. Yes, the consul had
+      a cablegram for him, but it was at his office. Could Captain Murphy not
+      wait until morning?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Most emphatically Captain Murphy could not. That cablegram was important;
+      it meant a great deal of money and possibly life or death&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Regretfully the consul entered the cab with the captain, drove to the
+      consulate and delivered the cable-gram to the eager mariner, who swore
+      when he discovered it was in cipher and not code, for this necessitated
+      immediate return to the <i>Narcissus</i> in order to obtain the key to the
+      cipher. He thanked the consul and sent the latter home in the cab, while
+      he hurried for the harbor front and the nearest boat landing. He was
+      filled with apprehension, for indeed there was something radically wrong
+      when his owners cabled him in the secret cipher of the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company&mdash;something the company had, doubtless, never found
+      occasion to do before. For while each vessel of the Blue Star fleet had a
+      copy of the A.L. code aboard, with the cipher key typewritten and pasted
+      on the second fly-leaf, not a single Blue Star skipper knew why it had
+      been pasted there or why the company should have gone to the trouble of
+      getting up any one of the hundreds of secret ciphers possible to be
+      developed from the A. L. Telegraphic Code. This was a secret that lay
+      locked in the breast of Mr. Skinner. It is probable, however, that it had
+      occurred to him in an idle moment that a secret cipher might come in handy
+      some day, and Mr. Skinner believed in being prepared for emergencies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain bade the launch wait for him at the accommodation ladder,
+      while he hurried round to his state-room and promptly fell to work on Mr.
+      Skinner's cipher cablegram. When he had laboriously deciphered it this is
+      what he read:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unaccountably failed note suspicious clause charter. Something rotten. We
+      are playing square game. Think plot deliver coal German fleet South
+      Atlantic. Discharge your German crew immediately, first notifying
+      Brazilian authorities and American consul. Have help when you notify them
+      game is off, otherwise may take vessel away from you. They will stop at
+      nothing; fleet desperate for coal. Cable acknowledgment these orders; also
+      cable when orders fulfilled. Very anxious. 'BLUE STAR NAVIGATION
+      COMPANY.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah-h-h!&rdquo; breathed Michael J. Murphy softly, but very distinctly. &ldquo;So
+      that's the game, eh?&rdquo; His big square chin set viciously; subconsciously he
+      clenched his hard fist and shook it at his enemies. &ldquo;The cunning Dutch
+      devils!&rdquo; he murmured very audibly, and at that precise instant Herr August
+      Carl von Staden stood in the open doorway. He coughed, and Murphy glanced
+      up from the translation of the cipher message just in time to note a swift
+      shadow pass over the supercargo's face, a shadow composed of equal parts
+      of suspicion, embarrassment and desperation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have returned very promptly, captain,&rdquo; he remarked smoothly, and then
+      his restless glance fell on the cablegram and beside it the scratch pad
+      and the two parallel columns of words scrawled on it. A man of far less
+      intelligence than von Staden possessed would, have realized as quickly
+      that the first column was composed of cipher words, while the second
+      column was the translation. From this tell-tale evidence his suspicious
+      glance lifted to the skipper's face, and he read in Michael J. Murphy's
+      black eyes the wild rage which no Irishman could have concealed&mdash;which
+      the majority of his race would not even have taken the trouble to endeavor
+      to conceal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In that glance each learned the other's secret; each realized that the
+      success of his plans depended on the silence of the other; each resolved
+      instantly to procure that silence at any cost. Von Staden reached for his
+      hip pocket, but before he could draw his automatic pistol and cover the
+      skipper, Michael J. Murphy had hurled ten pounds of code book into the
+      geometric centre of the supercargo's face. It was the first weapon his
+      hand closed over, and he did not disdain it. The instant it landed and von
+      Staden reeled before the blow, Murphy came out of his state-room with a
+      scuttering rush and von Staden fired as he came. The captain felt the
+      sting of the bullet as it creased the top of his left shoulder; then his
+      right fist came up in a blow that started at his hip and landed fairly
+      under the supercargo's heart. Von Staden grunted once, the pistol dropped
+      clattering to the deck and he folded up like an accordion. For him the
+      battle was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not so, however, with Mike Murphy. Gone to the winds now was the caution
+      he would have exercised had the attack been delayed two seconds longer;
+      forgotten was the shrewd advice of his owners to have help standing by
+      when the ship cleaning should commence. Michael J. Murphy thought of
+      nothing but blood, for the fight had started now and he was loath to have
+      it cease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bloody murderer!&rdquo; he growled. &ldquo;You'd kill me and steal my ship, would
+      you?&rdquo; And with the reckless abandon of a sailor he planted the broad toe
+      of a number nine boot in Herr von Staden's short ribs, hoping to break a
+      few, for in the process of working his way up from the bottom Michael had
+      fought under deep-sea rules too often to be squeamish now. So he kicked
+      Herr von Staden again, after which a glimmer of reason penetrated his hot
+      head and he walked to pick up the supercargo's automatic pistol. Then
+      something landed on him from above and he went down backward. His head
+      struck the deck with a resounding thump, and Michael J. Murphy had a
+      through ticket to the Land of Nod and no stop-over privileges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The something which had thus inopportunely dropped on Michael was Mr.
+      Henckel, the second mate. He had gone up on the bridge to see if the
+      canvas jacket had been dropped over the brightly polished brass
+      engine-room telegraph apparatus at each end of the bridge, in order to
+      protect it from the tropical dew. While thus engaged he had heard the shot
+      which von Staden fired at the captain, and forthwith had run across the
+      top of the house and peered over to discover what was happening on the
+      deck below. Discovering the captain in the act of kicking a distinguished
+      son of the Fatherland in that fragile section of the human anatomy
+      frequently referred to as the &ldquo;slats,&rdquo; the second mate had stood a moment,
+      immobile with horror, the while he gazed upon the fearful scene. Then the
+      captain walked to a spot on the deck directly beneath the position
+      occupied by his subordinate, and stooped to pick something up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even their enemies are proud of the dash and gallantry, the utter contempt
+      for consequences, which animate the German going into battle, and Mr.
+      Henckel, second mate of the S.S. <i>Narcissus</i>, was as fine a German as
+      one could find in a day's travel. The instant Michael J. Murphy stooped to
+      recover von Staden's automatic pistol, therefore, Mr. Henckel saw his duty
+      and, in the language of the elect, &ldquo;he went an' done it&rdquo;&mdash;the which
+      was absurdly simple. He merely leaped down off the house on top of the
+      captain, and forthwith deep peace and profound silence brooded over the
+      good ship <i>Narcissus</i>, of San Francisco.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is worthy of remark here that Mr. Terence Reardon who, had he been
+      present, might have had something to say&mdash;not that his action would
+      indicate that he despised Mike Murphy the less, but that he loved his
+      owners more&mdash;was unfortunately down in the engine-room. Consequently
+      he failed to hear the shot, and when he came up on deck the victims of the
+      affray had been collected and taken thence, a seaman with a mop had
+      removed the profuse evidence which Mike Murphy's rich red blood had
+      furnished and Mr. Schultz, the first mate, was on the bridge, while Mr.
+      Henckel was up on the forecastle head with his gang, waiting for the order
+      to break out the anchor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently a seaman came up on the bridge and reported that the light in
+      Mr. Reardon's state-room had been out fifteen minutes. So Mr. Schultz
+      waited an hour longer to make certain the chief engineer would be asleep;
+      whereupon commenced a harsh, discordant tune&mdash;the music of the anchor
+      chain paying in through the hawse pipe. When it ceased Mr. Schultz stepped
+      to the marine telegraph; a bell jingled in the bowels of the <i>Narcissus</i>;
+      an instant later all the lights aboard her went out as the first assistant
+      engineer threw off the switch, and silently in the heavy velvet gloom the
+      great vessel slipped out of Pernambuco harbor and headed south.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Just about the time the <i>Narcissus</i> was kicking ahead at nine knots,
+      in distant San Francisco the cable company was getting Mr. Skinner out of
+      bed to dictate to him over the telephone a message which had just arrived
+      from Pernambuco.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; murmured the incomparable Skinner as he donned a dressing gown and
+      slippers and descended to his library to decode the cablegram. &ldquo;The luck
+      of the Blue Star flag still holds. That belligerent and highly intelligent
+      fellow Murphy has received our cablegram, sent him in care of the American
+      consul, and in accordance with my instructions he is acknowledging its
+      receipt. Hum-m-m! The first word is 'oriana.' Let me turn to 'oriana.'
+      Hum-m! 'I have an order presumably emanating from blank.' Ah, yes, the
+      next word is 'Buestar,' the cable address of the Blue Star Navigation
+      Company. Well, well, well, the foxy fellow! After wiring us to cable him,
+      he gets our cable and then cables us to confirm it! Caution is a virtue,
+      but this brand is too high-priced. The next word is 'osculo'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner turned to &ldquo;osculo&rdquo; and discovered that it meant &ldquo;I am ordered
+      to&mdash;&rdquo; The next word in the cablegram was &ldquo;Montevideo.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner gasped. &ldquo;He has received orders, presumably
+      emanating from us, ordering him to Montevideo! Can it be possible that Mr.
+      Ricks or Matt Peasley has sent him a cablegram without my knowledge? I
+      must read further.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did, and having done so he discovered that, in addition to being
+      ordered to Montevideo, Mike Murphy wanted to know if it was all right and
+      if von Staden and Ulrich&mdash;presumably German&mdash;were to be trusted;
+      that he would remain in command at the company's request, although he
+      considered such request unreasonable, even if it could be granted without
+      risk. Also, he wanted these instructions confirmed and was anxiously
+      awaiting an answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm certain of one thing,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner soliloquized after reading
+      this extraordinary message: &ldquo;Murphy has not been to the American consul's
+      office for the cablegram I sent him several days ago. Evidently there is
+      mischief afoot. However, there is nothing to be gained by cabling him
+      again in care of the American consul, so I'll just assume that he has
+      registered his cable address with the cable company; hence, if I cable him
+      to his cable address the message will be delivered to him aboard the <i>Narcissus</i>.
+      And since he says he is anxiously awaiting an answer, I'll relieve his
+      anxiety with all possible speed and send him an answer immediately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whereupon Mr. Skinner wasted several dollars cabling Mike Murphy that the
+      Blue Star Navigation had not, to his knowledge, cabled him any
+      instructions save those sent in care of the American consul; that von
+      Staden and Ulrich were unknown to him, and to be very careful not to lose
+      the ship. This message Mr. Skinner dictated over the telephone to the
+      telegraph office and asked them to rush it. Evidently they did so, for
+      just as Cappy Ricks arrived in the office the following morning, word was
+      received from the telegraph company that owing to the departure of the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      from Pernambuco the night before, the Blue Star Navigation Company's
+      cablegram had not been delivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Skinner,&rdquo; Cappy chirped as he sat in at his desk and lighted a
+      cigar, &ldquo;what's the news around the shop this fine morning? Any word from
+      Murphy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and no,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner replied, and laid his information before
+      Cappy for perusal. Cappy read it all twice, then slid out to the edge of
+      his chair, placed his hands on his knees and looked at Mr. Skinner over
+      the rims of his spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he said solemnly, &ldquo;this is certainly hell! Cable
+      the American consul in Pernambuco and ask him if Murphy received the
+      cablegram we sent in care of the consulate. And, in the meantime, don't
+      whisper a word of this disquieting information to Matt Peasley. Time
+      enough to cross a bridge, Skinner, when you come to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner promptly filed a cablegram to the American consul, and just
+      before the office closed they got about forty dollars' worth of reply,
+      informing them that Captain Murphy had appeared at the consulate greatly
+      excited the night previous; that he had declared the cablegram awaiting
+      him might mean life or death&mdash;certainly a large sum of money; that he
+      had been given the cablegram and had gone aboard ship to look up his
+      cipher key. He had not returned and the ship was not in the harbor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see the carbon copy of the cablegram you sent Murphy in care of
+      the American consul,&rdquo; Cappy demanded. Mr. Skinner with a sinking heart
+      obeyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner,&rdquo; said Cappy, &ldquo;do I understand you sent this message in cipher,
+      which necessitated on the part of our captain a trip back to his ship
+      before he could decipher it? Why didn't you send him the message in
+      regular code? He would then have decoded it right in the consulate, or at
+      best he could have gone to the cable office and borrowed a code book from
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I sent it in our secret cipher,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner faltered. &ldquo;It was delicate
+      business&mdash;quite&mdash;er&mdash;an international complication, as it
+      were, and in the event of unpleasant developments&mdash;Well, how did I
+      know but that some German might be on the key at the cable office when the
+      message arrived there for Murphy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite right, Skinner, my boy, quite right,&rdquo; Cappy interrupted sadly. &ldquo;The
+      only trouble with you, Skinner, is that you're too danged efficient. You
+      look so far into the future you're always gumming up the present.&rdquo; He
+      sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what do you think&mdash;&rdquo; Skinner began, but Cappy silenced him with
+      an autocratic finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not think, Skinner, I know. Had it not been for your damnable cipher
+      message, Murphy would have got your warning ashore instead of being forced
+      to go back to the ship for it. Having got it ashore he would have taken
+      care to warn the Brazilian authorities and they would have been on watch
+      and prevented the ship from leaving. As I view the situation, Mike went
+      aboard, deciphered your message and got ripping mad. Von Staden and Ulrich
+      were probably aboard, and hot-headed Mike probably undertook to throw them
+      overboard single-handed&mdash;and failed. His body is doubtless feeding
+      the fishes in Pernambuco harbor this minute, and our lovely&mdash;big&mdash;<i>Narcissus</i>&mdash;the
+      pride of&mdash;the Blue Star fleet&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I tell Captain Peasley?&rdquo; Mr. Skinner faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, tell him. He's bound to find out sooner or later. Skinner, I could
+      stand the loss of the ship, but what breaks me all up is the thought that
+      after forty years of honorable business my friends and my enemies might
+      suspect me of being a filibuster. I, Alden P. Ricks, whose
+      great-grandfather died at Yorktown, whose grandfather was killed at
+      Lundy's Lane, whose father won a medal of honor at Chapultepec&mdash;I,
+      Alden P. Ricks, who had to belong to the Home Guard because I was such a
+      little runt they wouldn't take me in the Civil War&mdash;to think that I
+      should attain to seventy years and even be suspected of staining the flag
+      of my country for the sake of a few dirty dollars&mdash;after all the
+      Ricks blood that has been shed for that flag! Horrible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner turned away for, man and boy, he had spent twenty-five years
+      under Cappy Ricks, and he loved him. He could not bear to see the old man
+      suffer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      When Michael J. Murphy returned to consciousness he found himself in his
+      berth, although for all the effort he made to verify this fact it might
+      have been Mr. Reardon's. For fully half an hour he lay there, gradually
+      straightening out the tangle in his intellect, and presently he was aware
+      that the back of his head was very sore and ached, so he put up his hand
+      to rub it and found a lump as large as a walnut. His right shoulder was
+      numb and he was unable to move it, although this would not have surprised
+      him had he been aware that a hundred and eighty pounds of Teutonic
+      masculinity had landed on that shoulder with both feet and dislocated it.
+      As it was, the skipper wondered vaguely if the ship's funnel had fallen
+      over on him. His right side ached externally, and when he sighed it ached
+      internally. That was a broken rib tickling his lung, for, while he was in
+      blissful ignorance of the reason therefor, the chronicler of this tale can
+      serve no good purpose by concealing the true facts in the case.
+      Immediately upon regaining consciousness, Herr August Carl von Staden had
+      insisted upon returning Michael J. Murphy's kicks with compound interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Holy mackerel!&rdquo; the skipper murmured. &ldquo;I feel like I've been fed into a
+      concrete mixer. The only injury I can account for is my left shoulder,
+      where that supercargo shot me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After spending another half hour in mild speculation on these phenomena he
+      was aware of an added impediment in breathing, so he put his hand up to
+      his nose and found it clogged with blood. His luxuriant black mustache
+      prevented an extended examination of his upper lip, but nevertheless,
+      something told him it was split. A hard foreign substance lying between
+      his right cheek and the inferior maxillary he concluded must be the pit of
+      an olive left over from dinner. Subsequently, however, he discovered it
+      was one of his own teeth. So he swore a mighty oath and felt considerably
+      better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is certainly mutiny on the high seas and punishable by hanging,&rdquo; he
+      soliloquized. &ldquo;I wonder if Cappy Ricks would know me now;&rdquo; and he reached
+      up to turn the switch of the electric light over his berth. He turned the
+      switch, but the light did not come on, and while he lay considering this
+      state of affairs, he was aware that something that was not his head was
+      throbbing in the ship. He decided presently that it was her engines. From
+      the steady rhythmic pulsations he realized the vessel was being driven
+      full speed ahead; and since he could not recall having given any orders to
+      that effect, he was not long in arriving at the correct answer to the
+      riddle&mdash;whereupon Michael J. Murphy did what every shipmaster does
+      when he loses the ship he loves and finds himself ravished of his
+      reputation as a sane and careful skipper. He wept!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Those who know the breed will bid you beware the Irish when they weep from
+      any cause save grief or sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks, who claimed to know Mike Murphy's kind of Irish, doubtless
+      would have been extremely gratified had he been granted a peep at the
+      battered, bleeding, weeping wreck of his faithful Michael as the pride of
+      the Blue Star fleet rolled south to meet the grey sea rovers of the
+      Fatherland and deliver the cargo of coal that meant so much to them. The
+      sight might have aroused some hope in Cappy's heavy heart, he being by
+      nature inconsistent and always seeing a profit where others found naught
+      but a deficit. However, though Cappy was variously gifted he was not a
+      clairvoyant, in consequence of which he spent a very sleepless night
+      following the receipt of that windy cablegram from the American consul. He
+      dined at his club, and when it was time for him to leave and his daughter
+      sent her car for him, he lacked the courage to go home and face his
+      son-in-law. So he spent the night at the club and came down to the office
+      about noon, hoping Matt Peasley would have recovered from the shock by
+      that time. The latter was waiting for him, and came into Cappy's sanctum
+      immediately to hold a post-mortem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matthew, my dear boy,&rdquo; said Cappy miserably, &ldquo;this is terrible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think we should take the matter up immediately with the State
+      Department,&rdquo; Matt replied. &ldquo;There may be a United States warship in those
+      waters, and she could be instructed by wireless to endeavor to intercept
+      the <i>Narcissus.</i> We can prove a clean bill of health with those
+      cablegrams, and get back our ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;from our own Government, of course. But, oh, Matt, if old
+      Johnny Bull ever gets his horns into her we can kiss her good-bye. We
+      can't bring forward any evidence to alibi that German crew on a ship so
+      far off her course and loaded with contraband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I know if I were skippering a British warship and picked up the <i>Narcissus,</i>
+      her owners would find I was born and bred in Missouri,&rdquo; the honest Matt
+      admitted. &ldquo;By the way, have you read this morning's papers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Matt. I've felt too blamed miserable about this <i>Narcissus</i>
+      affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the <i>Scharnhorst</i>, the <i>Gneisenau</i>, the <i>Leipzig,</i>,
+      the <i>Dresden</i> and the <i>Nurnberg</i> met a British fleet under
+      Admiral Craddock, away down off Coronel, Chile. The British were cleaned
+      for fair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't tell me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do tell you. And I'll bet my immortal soul that German fleet is heading
+      for the entrance to Magellan this minute. If I were a religious man I'd be
+      praying for clear weather so they'll find the entrance without any
+      trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope they run ashore and drown every man Jack!&rdquo; cried Cappy fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not. You will note that our charterers tried to induce Mike to go to
+      Montevideo for orders. That was because they expected to lie snug at
+      Montevideo and be within striking distance of a designated meeting place
+      in the South Atlantic when the German fleet should pass through Magellan
+      from the Pacific. Remember that for several weeks the German fleet has
+      managed to lose itself in the Pacific, but now that the British fleet has
+      stumbled onto it and forced an engagement, the Australian and Japanese
+      cruisers will all be headed for the south coast of Chile to make reprisal.
+      We know the Germans are short of coal; doubtless some of the fleet have
+      suffered in the engagement with Admiral Craddock's ships, so it's a safe
+      bet they'll run into the Atlantic now and raid the Falkland Islands&mdash;by
+      the way, a British possession. They will hope to find coal and stores
+      there, which, with the cargo of the <i>Narcissus,</i> will enable them to
+      continue raiding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course they will try to accomplish this before England sends a fleet
+      to avenge Craddock&mdash;and I'm hoping the Germans will succeed, for, if
+      they do, they will surely be decent enough to run our <i>Narcissus</i>
+      into some South American port and give us an opportunity to get her back
+      again. On the other hand, if the Germans delay their departure from the
+      Pacific, the British will surely get wind of the <i>Narcissus</i> waiting
+      at Montevideo; and when she comes out they'll just naturally grab her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you're right,&rdquo; Cappy replied gloomily; &ldquo;so for the present we're
+      pro-German. Still, I find that a hard dose to swallow, in view of the fact
+      that our German crew in the <i>Narcissus</i> has evidently taken the
+      vessel away from Mike Murphy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure they have done just that, sir; otherwise Mike would have obeyed
+      our orders. We know he received the orders; hence the only reason he did
+      not carry them out was because he wasn't permitted to do so. My only hope
+      is that they haven't killed him, for if he is alive and free, he and
+      Reardon, with the assistance of the cockney steward and the two Chinese
+      cooks, might&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Might what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Might steal her back again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt! It isn't possible, is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll bet Mike Murphy and I could steal her back if we had half a chance.
+      The odds would be forty to two against our succeeding, but a little
+      strategy is sometimes to be preferred to great horsepower. I think I could
+      do it, and I think Murphy will do it&mdash;if he only thinks of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How? Tell me how you'd steal her back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the use?&rdquo; Matt replied wearily. &ldquo;I'd have to have help. So will
+      Mike&mdash;and I've just remembered Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon are
+      the wrong kind of Irish to have together in the same ship. We did our best
+      to prevent it, but the odds are too long for us; the coal is for the
+      Germans and we hate England, so why worry? I know Mike Murphy will not
+      take that view of it; for my sake he'll fight to the last gasp, but he
+      must have help, and Reardon owes me no such allegiance as Murphy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he owes me something,&rdquo; Cappy spoke up. &ldquo;You promised him a hundred
+      and seventy-five dollars a month and I raised the ante to two hundred. It
+      was an investment, pure and simple. I was buying loyalty, and by the Holy
+      Pink-Toed Prophet, I think I'll get it. Come to think of it, there was a
+      look in Reardon's eyes that I liked, when he took my hand in those greasy
+      paws of his and said he was a proud man to work for me. Matt, that fellow
+      is full of bellicose veins. He may not fight for me, but he'll fight for
+      Mrs. Reardon and the children and that two-hundred-dollar-a-month job, for
+      it's the first he's ever had and if he loses out it'll be the last he'll
+      ever get. He was telling me all about his family and how much the job
+      meant to him, that day we had the <i>Narcissus</i> out on her trial trip.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley's face brightened. &ldquo;By Jupiter, that puts a different face on
+      the situation. If Reardon is alive they might get together for mutual
+      protection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; Cappy piped up, greatly relieved to discover Matt was facing the
+      tragedy so optimistically, &ldquo;we might do worse than hope. Wire the State
+      Department, Matt; and in the meanwhile, cheer up, sonny, and trust in the
+      luck of Alden P. Ricks. I remember Captain Noah Kendall&mdash;peace to his
+      ashes&mdash;used to say to me: 'Mr. Ricks, if you ever fell into Channel
+      Creek at low tide you'd come up with a pearl necklace wrapped round your
+      ankle, and you'd be smelling like a spray of lemon verbena.' Cheer up,
+      Matt! What though the cause be lost, the <i>Narcissus</i> is not lost&mdash;yet.
+      The Celtic troops remain, and from now on my war cry is going to be&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ireland uber Alles,&rdquo; Matt Peasley suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're blamed whistlin'!&rdquo; said Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Mr. Skinner was called into consultation, and he and Matt Peasley and
+      Cappy drew up a heart-rending telegram to the Secretary of State, who
+      consulted with the Secretary of the Navy, who wired the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company that he was sorry but he didn't have as much as a
+      rowboat in the South Atlantic to save their steamer <i>Narcissus,</i> and
+      would they please keep still about it, since a noise like that, unless
+      absolutely based on facts&mdash;and he understood their wail to be based
+      on suspicion&mdash;would tend to create additional friction in an
+      international complication already strained to the breaking point.
+      Whereupon Cappy Ricks flew into a rage and immediately dictated a long
+      letter to his congressman and his senator, urging them to battle to the
+      last trench in the campaign for a two-power navy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Time passed. Then suddenly the world rocked with the news of the
+      annihilation of the German Pacific fleet off the Falkland Islands. Cappy
+      Ricks and Matt Peasley read the horrid tale in the morning papers as they
+      sat at breakfast, and immediately both lost all interest in food. Like two
+      mourners about to set out for the morgue to identify the corpse of a loved
+      one recently killed by a taxicab, they drove down to the Blue Star
+      offices, where immediately upon arrival something terrible in Mr.
+      Skinner's face brought on palpitation of Cappy Ricks' heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he chattered, &ldquo;Have you any news?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet, sir,&rdquo; murmured Mr. Skinner brokenly, &ldquo;but soon! The British
+      consul wants you to ring him up. He says he's had a wireless from H.M.S.
+      <i>Panther,</i> off the Falkland Islands, and he thinks it will be of
+      interest to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is my <i>Narcissus</i> confiscated?&rdquo; Cappy and Matt cried in chorus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't know,&rdquo; Skinner faltered. &ldquo;I just didn't have the courage
+      to pursue the matter further. The British consul said she was captured but
+      as for con&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Idiot! Bonehead!&rdquo; rasped Cappy. &ldquo;My <i>Narcissus</i> is gone&mdash;gone!
+      Oh, Lord! Matt, you ring up the British consul&mdash;I'm an old man&mdash;Skinner,
+      my dear chap, forgive my harsh language. Have you a little drop of whisky
+      in the office?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Capt. Michael J. Murphy's futile tears of rage having dried almost as
+      quickly as they came, he crawled painfully out of his berth and lighted a
+      match, to discover he was a prisoner in his own state-room. He turned
+      another electric switch, but still the room remained in darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sneaking out of Pernambuco with the lights doused,&rdquo; he soliloquized. Then
+      he remembered a little stump of candle he kept in his desk for use when
+      heating sealing wax, so he lighted the candle and by its meager rays took
+      inventory of his features in the little mirror over his washstand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Toe Nails of Moses,&rdquo; he soliloquized, &ldquo;somebody's sea-boots did
+      that, and if I ever find out who was wearing them at the time there'll be
+      a fight or a footrace. I'm a total wreck and no insurance&mdash;yes, thank
+      God! here's the ship's medicine chest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having spent the greater portion of an adventurous career far from medical
+      aid in time of bodily stress, Michael J. was, as most shipmasters are,
+      rather adept in rough-and-tumble surgery. His compact little library
+      contained a common-sense treatise on the care of burns, scalds, cuts,
+      fractures and the few minor physical diseases that sailors are heir to,
+      and in accordance with immemorial custom he, as master of the ship, was
+      the custodian of the medicine chest. So he washed the gore from his face,
+      disinfected his split lip and patched himself up after a fashion. The
+      bullet wound in his left shoulder proved to be a flesh wound, high up, so
+      he cleaned that and decided his left wing would be in fair fighting order
+      within a few days. Then he undressed and said his prayers, with a special
+      invocation for help from his patron saint, holy Saint Michael, the
+      archangel. Evidently Saint Michael inclined a friendly ear, for it is a
+      curious fact that no sooner had his namesake risen from his marrow bones
+      than a curious sense of peace and comfort stole over him. As in a vision
+      he saw Herr August Carl von Staden standing on the bridge, bound at ankle,
+      knee and hand and with a rope round his neck. From the supercargo's neck
+      the rope led aloft through a small snatch-block fastened to the end of a
+      cargo derrick and thence to the drum of the forward winch&mdash;a device
+      which had been known to hoist with a jerk objects several tons heavier
+      than Herr August Carl von Staden! This picture thus conjured in Murphy's
+      imagination was so real he was almost tempted to recite the litany for the
+      dying!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twould have been better for them had they killed me dead and hove my
+      carcass overboard,&rdquo; he decided. &ldquo;The fact that they didn't, but took the
+      trouble to carry me to my own bed and lock me in, is proof that they'll
+      not murder me now&mdash;so I'll not worry. I'll have every beer-drinking,
+      sausage-making son of a seacook begging me for mercy before the week is
+      out. I'll just lie low and rest up a bit, and by the time we're off Rio
+      I'll drop on them like a top-mast in a typhoon. Then with the help of the
+      two Chinamen, the steward and Reardon 'twill not be hard to run her into
+      Rio. I wonder if that pirate frisked me of my five thousand.&rdquo; He searched
+      through his clothing and was amazed to discover that the bills were still
+      in his possession.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll give them back in the morning,&rdquo; he concluded. &ldquo;I had a pistol in the
+      drawer of my desk and a rifle in that locker;&rdquo; and in the wild hope that
+      his luck still held, he searched eagerly for both. They were gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, Michael J. Murphy smiled as he wrapped a wet towel round his
+      throbbing head, for he had already decided upon his plan of campaign for
+      regaining command of his ship, a <i>coup</i> for which he required no
+      weapon more formidable than his native intelligence. As he sank groaning
+      into the arms of Morpheus, however, even a Digger Indian would have
+      realized that for the next two weeks the master of the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      would be unable to defend himself against an old lady armed with a
+      slipper. Nevertheless, the indomitable fellow, with the amazing optimism
+      of his race, had already decided to attack and subdue, within four days,
+      thirty-six husky male enemies; which lends some color to the oft-repeated
+      declaration that an Irishman fights best when he is on his back with his
+      opponent feeling for his windpipe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Michael J. Murphy awoke it was broad daylight and Herr August Carl
+      von Staden was standing over him. The supercargo was clad in an immaculate
+      suit of white flannels and was looking as fresh as new paint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can it be possible?&rdquo; Murphy queried in amazement. &ldquo;Upon my word, friend
+      pirate, I had flattered myself I'd tucked you away for a couple of days at
+      least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The excellent Mr. Henckel tells me I was out for ten minutes from that
+      solar-plexus blow you landed,&rdquo; Mr. von Staden replied in tones of mingled
+      admiration and friendliness. &ldquo;And of course you cannot see how sore my
+      ribs feel. I take it rather ill of you to have kicked me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kicked you! I wish I'd killed you! And, speaking of kicks, somebody
+      certainly kicked me. Who was it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon recovering consciousness,&rdquo; the supercargo replied with some
+      embarrassment, &ldquo;I was overcome with fury. You were lying on the floor of
+      your stateroom, where Mr. Schultz and Mr. Henckel had hurriedly tossed you&mdash;so
+      I came in and kicked you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never kicked you in the face,&rdquo; Murphy complained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, but you flattened my nose with your code book.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll admit a good smack on the nose does make a man mad. But you
+      shot me in the shoulder. By the way, do your lungs hurt when you breathe,
+      Dutchy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Do yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A slight tickle. I think you caved in my super-structure. Who jumped on
+      me from the top of the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The second mate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He dislocated my shoulder. I can wiggle my fingers, so I know it isn't a
+      fracture. Suppose you take off your shoe, sit at the foot of my bed, put
+      your foot under my right armpit and press, and at the same time pull on my
+      right arm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Delighted, I'm sure,&rdquo; declared Herr von Staden in his charming Oxford
+      accent, and forthwith snapped Michael J. Murphy's shoulder into place with
+      great dexterity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; the skipper answered, and wiped the beads of agony from his
+      white face. &ldquo;If you'll frisk my trousers over there on the settee you'll
+      find the five thousand dollars you gave me to sell out my owners. I don't
+      want it. I never intended to keep it. I was suspicious of you and your
+      confounded cablegrams, and I had to have a reasonable excuse to go ashore
+      and cable my owners for confirmation. The bribe furnished that excuse. I
+      suppose you thought I'd fallen for your game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must confess your attitude completely deceived me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks for the compliment. And now, if you don't mind, suppose you tell
+      me something: Was it a German agent who put the bug in my ear about hiring
+      the crew of that interned German liner in San Francisco?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I greatly fear it was,&rdquo; von Staden answered smilingly. &ldquo;There is an old
+      man who presides over the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation Company&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean Cappy Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe that is the name. He has a reputation for being at once the
+      most reckless spendthrift and the most painstaking money saver in the
+      world. He is always preaching economy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And well I know it. If he hadn't preached it, Captain Peasley would never
+      have stood for this rabble your friends wished on me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The supercargo chuckled. &ldquo;We wanted the largest vessel we could find,&rdquo; he
+      explained; &ldquo;and when it was reported to us that the Blue Star Navigation
+      Company's <i>Narcissus</i> was going from San Francisco to the West Coast
+      and thence to New York with nitrate, we decided to get her. We
+      investigated you. Your name is Michael J. Murphy; naturally we knew you
+      were Irish; and the Irish&mdash;your kind of Irish&mdash;are not
+      sympathetic toward the cause of Merry England. The same held true of your
+      chief engineer, Mr. Reardon. We knew of the passion of this interesting
+      person, Cappy Ricks, for cutting down expenses. We knew you and Reardon
+      were new to your jobs and would be likely to consider any reasonable plan
+      for eliminating expense in your respective departments, in the hope of
+      pleasing your employer. So the suggestion that you ship our people was
+      made to you and Reardon, and you accepted it with alacrity. The rest was
+      very easy. We got in touch with your New York agents through some friends
+      of ours in very good standing there, and they were enabled to charter the
+      ship merely by offering an extraordinary freight rate. They purchased the
+      cargo of coal and sold it to us at a nice profit, and we depended on your
+      national animosity and racial sympathy, seasoned with a liberal cash
+      subsidy, to enable us to deliver it. We preferred to do the decent thing,
+      but in the event that you proved unreasonable, we concluded it would be
+      wise to have our own people aboard and take the vessel away from you. I
+      admit we tried to trick you with the cablegrams. Why attempt to conceal
+      the fact now? That was unsportsmanlike. However, if the fat is in the
+      fire, as you Americans would say, you have put it there by forcing my
+      hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very cleverly done,&rdquo; quoth Michael J. Murphy. &ldquo;I always admire brains
+      wherever I find them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Men in my line of endeavor are trained to provide for all conceivable
+      emergencies, captain. I think I provided for all of them in the case under
+      discussion. Who, for instance, would conceive that you would have taken
+      the trouble to call upon the American consul for the cipher message that
+      has caused all this unpleasant row and facial disfigurement?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have read the translation, of course?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naturally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is self-explanatory. You intend delivering my cargo somewhere off the
+      south coast of Uruguay. May I be pardoned for expressing some curiosity as
+      to your plans thereafter, my piratical friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please do not call me your piratical friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you're a pirate, aren't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Legally&mdash;yes. Morally&mdash;no. In times of national necessity one's
+      patriotism&mdash;one's duty to one's country&mdash;excuses, in the minds
+      of all fair men, the commission of acts which ordinarily would bring about
+      the deepest condemnation. I assure you that if we had had the faintest
+      hope of doing business in a businesslike way with your owners, we should
+      have been happy to pay almost any price for their ship, for she carries
+      ten thousand tons of coal; and you surely must realize, Captain Murphy,
+      how limited is the number of ships suitable for our purpose under the
+      American flag. We were desperate&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe Bethmann-Hollweg said something of the same nature with regard
+      to Belgium,&rdquo; Murphy replied blandly. &ldquo;A nation fighting for its life is a
+      law unto itself, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Self-preservation is the first law of human nature,&rdquo; the supercargo
+      replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. Then we understand each other. While I decline to terminate
+      the war between August Carl von Staden and Michael Joseph Murphy,
+      nevertheless under the law you have just cited I believe I'm entitled to
+      breakfast. I'm starved. I figured on having supper ashore last night, but
+      after I received that cablegram from my owners I forgot all about food.
+      Now I'm remembering. I wish you'd send the steward in with about forty
+      dollars' worth of spoon victuals. My grinders are very loose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain Murphy,&rdquo; his jailer declared, &ldquo;do you know you are a very
+      wonderful man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the Murphys are. It runs in the blood, like a wooden leg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I really regret that you are such a wonderful man. If you were not I'd
+      give you the liberty of the ship. As it is, I crave your pardon for
+      keeping you a prisoner in your state-room. The exigencies of war, you
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't mention it, Dutchy. For the second time I ask you: When you have
+      delivered this cargo of coal, what do you intend to do with my ship?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will, in all probability, give you a new crew, and the present crew of
+      the <i>Narcissus</i> will go aboard one of our warships and thus remove
+      themselves from the reach of a possible indictment for piracy and mutiny
+      on the high seas.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where will you get a new crew for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our fleet has sunk a few British tramps in mid-ocean during the past
+      sixty days. Naturally they removed the crews first. These prisoners are in
+      our way, and the admiral will welcome an opportunity to load them all
+      aboard the empty <i>Narcissus</i>, for even prisoners of war must eat, and
+      the stores aboard our fleet are more valuable than these captured seamen.
+      In obedience to that first law of human nature they will not object to
+      working the <i>Narcissus</i> into the nearest South American port.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's comforting; but for heaven's sake don't be too much of a hog
+      with my cargo. Leave me enough of it to carry my ship to the nearest port.
+      She burns about thirty-five tons a day&mdash;you might get the statistics
+      from Reardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By all means, captain. Our capture of the <i>Narcissus</i> is merely a
+      deplorable national necessity. We would not lose her for you for
+      anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about a British cruiser picking her up before we make connections
+      with your fleet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Herr von Staden shrugged. &ldquo;That,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;would be the fortune of
+      war.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would look like the picture of misfortune to me. And how about the
+      freight on this cargo you've stolen? Don't my owners get something out of
+      this deal to help pay expenses? You're going to play as fair as you can
+      with me, aren't you, Dutchy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By all means. However, you are evidently in doubt as to the real
+      situation. Your charterers are responsible to your owners for the freight
+      money. If they do not pay it Mr. Cappy Ricks can sue them. As for the
+      cargo, we have not stolen it, since one cannot steal that which one owns.
+      We paid cash for this cargo before you cleared from Norfolk, for our
+      go-between would take no risks whatsoever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see. Well, I suppose I'll have to grin and bear it. By the way, don't
+      forget to take back your blood money. It's in my trousers pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Staden was genuinely distressed. &ldquo;Are you quite certain you want me to
+      do that?&rdquo; he queried. &ldquo;Five thousand dollars is quite a sum for a poor sea
+      captain to toss aside so contemptuously. Why not accept it as compensation
+      for that broken rib, and that bullet I put through your left shoulder, the
+      dislocated right shoulder, the loose teeth and the split lip? In fact, I
+      am so certain five thousand dollars will not cover your personal injuries
+      I am willing to be a sport and add something to the sum.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy grinned&mdash;rather a horrible grin it was, owing to
+      his swollen lip and jaw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dutchy,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;listen to me: All the money in the world couldn't make
+      me be untrue to my salt. And if you have any lingering notion that I'm not
+      going to collect a million dollars' worth of satisfaction for the way
+      you've acted aboard my ship, I can only say that as a fortune-teller
+      you'll never earn enough money to keep yourself in cigarettes. You say you
+      have been trained to provide for all conceivable emergencies, so I'm
+      advising you, as a friend, to brace yourself for the surprise of your life
+      before you're a week older. Have you pondered the possibility of sudden
+      death aboard the S.S. <i>Narcissus?</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. Should we be overhauled by a British cruiser I should take a
+      short cut to eternity. One naturally dislikes the thought of being hanged
+      for a pirate. It would be a reflection on one's family. As for sudden
+      death by violence at the hands of any member of the crew of this
+      steamship, I should be willing to risk quite a sum of money that no such
+      tragedy will be enacted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you'll be safe in this stateroom until I am ready to turn your
+      command back to you, and a man with two shoulders in the condition of
+      yours is hardly likely to try battering down this stout state-room door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Correct. And I'm a trifle too thick in the middle to think of crawling
+      through the state-room window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if,&rdquo; the supercargo continued, &ldquo;you have any idea of calling the
+      engine-room on that speaking tube and soliciting aid from Mr. Reardon,
+      please be advised that for the present Mr. Reardon has been relieved from
+      duty in the engine-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you've got Reardon locked up, too?&rdquo; Murphy queried. &ldquo;Well! Well! I'd
+      hate to think of being locked up and that man Reardon free. However, you
+      need not have worried. I'd die before I'd ask that fellow for help&mdash;and
+      he'd die before he'd give it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I understand from the first mate. However, I thought it prudent to
+      guard against a temporary truce and an alliance for the common interest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dutchy,&rdquo; said the skipper, &ldquo;you're pretty smart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Staden smiled most companionably. &ldquo;I also took the precaution to
+      remove some weapons from your apartment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take anything from me, Dutchy, except my honor, my pipe and tobacco, and
+      my ship. Take any one of those four, however, and may the Lord have mercy
+      on your soul. Please hand me that book entitled <i>Backwood's Surgery</i>
+      till I see what's good for a broken rib; then send the steward for my
+      breakfast order. After that&mdash;well, after that you might make your
+      will, Dutchy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did that in Pernambuco,&rdquo; the delightful Herr von Staden replied, &ldquo;so
+      your advice is wasted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He handed the skipper the book on surgery and went out, carefully locking
+      the door behind him. He returned presently and stood beside the steward,
+      who thrust his head through the state-room window and desired to know the
+      captain's choice of breakfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A bowl of mush and milk, three soft-boiled eggs and a pot of coffee. No
+      toast. Hurry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the steward returned with the order he was accompanied by Mr.
+      Schultz, the first mate. The sight of the traitor threw Mike into a
+      furious rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Schultz,&rdquo; he said ominously, &ldquo;the things I'm going to do to you would
+      make the devil blush.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So?&rdquo; Mr. Schultz replied soothingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm going to hang von Staden. He's a pirate, and the rule of the Seven
+      Seas is that a skipper hangs a pirate whenever he can lay hands on him.
+      And you know me, Mr. Schultz. I'm a devil for etiquette aboard ship. As
+      for you, you're only guilty of mutiny, so I'll content myself with tricing
+      you up to the shrouds and flogging you with a cat soaked in brine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so on, <i>ad libitum, ad infinitum</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Schultz was frankly mystified. Being a German, he did not understand
+      the Irish, although in view of the fact that during the war he had room in
+      his head for but one thing&mdash;the Fatherland&mdash;perhaps the skipper
+      might have pardoned his mate the glance of contempt and utter disgust
+      which the latter now bent upon him. Here was a man, Mr. Schultz told
+      himself, who, having stipulated his price and struck a bargain, had
+      demonstrated beyond cavil that he was not a gentleman, for he had refused
+      to stay bought. More, he had basely attacked his benefactor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So?&rdquo; he repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out, you blackguard, and leave me alone!&rdquo; Murphy yelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It iss an order dot I stay und see dot der steward shall mayg no
+      conversations vatsoefer,&rdquo; Mr. Schultz declared firmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Verboten, eh?&rdquo; sneered the skipper. He had once been to Hamburg, and
+      naturally he had acquired the word most commonly used in the German
+      language.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Ja</i>,&rdquo; Mr. Schultz replied placidly, but with an air of finality
+      that left no room for further argument.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the course of the afternoon, having chewed the bitter cud of reflection
+      and reviewed his situation from every possible angle, Mike Murphy came to
+      the conclusion that, for all Terence Reardon's religious backsliding, he
+      might be fairly honest in money matters and possessed of a sense of
+      loyalty where his owners' interests were concerned. Also, having found
+      Herr von Staden bluffing in one instance it occurred to the captain he
+      might be discovered bluffing in another&mdash;so he resolved to
+      investigate. Accordingly at an hour when he knew Terence should be in the
+      engine room he took up the speaking-tube at the head of his bed and blew
+      into it. But no shrill whistle signalled his desire in the engine room,
+      and though Michael blew until he was red in the face and his lips hurt him
+      cruelly, reluctantly he came to the conclusion that Herr August Carl von
+      Staden had the situation very well in hand and Terence Reardon in the
+      latter's state-room under lock and key.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was right in one particular: von Staden had the situation very well in
+      hand, but he did not have Terence Reardon under lock and key. Murphy had
+      been balked in making connections with the unsuspecting Terence for the
+      reason that a little ball of cotton waste had very carefully been tucked
+      into the engine-room howler a few inches at the back of the whistle at the
+      chief's end of the tube. Hence, in the event that one sought to whistle up
+      the other, he merely wasted his breath. Having learned, on the very
+      excellent authority of both men in the case, that they despised each other
+      and were not on speaking terms, von Staden decided that the chance of
+      Terence Reardon's listening to Michael J. Murphy's tale of piracy and
+      mutiny was so vague as to be almost negligible. However, he was
+      painstaking and careful in all things and never ran any unnecessary risks;
+      consequently, just to be on the safe side, he had instructed the first
+      assistant to plug the speaking-tube leading to the skipper's room. And in
+      order to discourage the captain from, seeking an interview with the chief,
+      von Staden had told the former that the chief was a prisoner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon was too important a personage to be deprived of his liberty
+      when nothing was to be gained by such action. If he could be kept in
+      ignorance of the state of affairs aboard the <i>Narcissus</i>, he would
+      continue to attend to business; if the worst came to the worst his
+      friendship would be a better asset than his hatred. If he grew suspicious
+      and demanded a showdown, Herr von Staden would give it to him without
+      reservation and stuff his mouth with gold; then, if the chief declined to
+      listen to reason, it would be time enough to lock him up. While the
+      supercargo would not hesitate to sacrifice his life, his liberty, or his
+      honor for his country, he was nevertheless desirous of being a gentleman
+      if accorded the opportuniby. And it must be admitted he had found Mr.
+      Reardon amusing and vastly entertaining, for the very first night aboard,
+      after Mr. Schultz had introduced him to the chief and he had presented the
+      latter with a good cigar, Mr. Reardon, under the spell of the witchery
+      cast by the sea and the night, had sat on deck and told the German
+      wonderful tales of the fairies in Ireland&mdash;this while the skipper was
+      ashore. In particular he told von Staden the tale of the fairy queen with
+      the iron hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her hand,&rdquo; said Terence, &ldquo;was as beautiful as ye'd find in a day's
+      thravel, an' 'twas herself that'd dhrive men crazy afther wan look at her.
+      An' she was good to the poor, but divii a bit av love did she have for a
+      redcoat. Whin she'd take human form an' a bowld buck av a British dragoon
+      would come making love to her, 'tis herself would say to him: 'Captain,
+      alannah, would ye oblige me wit' a dhrink av wather?' An' whin he turrned
+      to dhraw the wather, she'd breathe on her hand&mdash;like that&mdash;an'
+      immejiately 'twould turn to iron an' wit' wan blow she'd knock his brains
+      out. Sure they found the bodies all over Ireland, but divil a man, woman,
+      or child could they ever convict av the murrder. For why? Why, sure, the
+      minute she'd killed a redcoat she'd breathe on her hand ag'in, an'
+      immejiately 'twas flesh an' blood ag'in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No, decidedly it would not do to imprison this excellent fellow. Von
+      Staden had read fairy tales as a boy, but never had he met a man who could
+      tell them like Terence Reardon. A hard-headed, highly intelligent chief
+      engineer of a big tramp steamer telling tales of the fairies! Von Staden
+      couldn't understand it. It was so childish&mdash;and yet there was nothing
+      childish about Terence Reardon. The German wondered if Terence Reardon
+      believed in the fairies and finally he asked him point-blank if he did;
+      whereupon Terence turned a solemn eye upon him and replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, av course I do not. Do you think I'm a blubber-jack av a bhoy? But
+      isn't it pleasant to talk about thim whilst wan has nothing betther to do?
+      Sure, whin I'm lonely at night I think up new fairy tales to tell to the
+      childhren whin I come home from a v'yage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So that was the Irish of it! Strangely enough it did not occur to the
+      practical German that an individual with an imagination like that, on such
+      an expedition as the present, was the most dangerous person imaginable to
+      be given the freedom of the ship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So passed twelve days and nights. Mr. Schultz kept in his pocket the key
+      to the captain's state-room, and consequently was always present when the
+      little cockney steward brought the prisoner his meals, tidied up the
+      state-room and made up the captain's bed. The captain spent most of his
+      time lying on his uninjured side and remained very quiet, for the
+      fractured rib, which had received no attention, was causing him a great
+      deal of suffering. Neither did the bullet wound in his shoulder heal
+      cleanly, for the reason, unknown to the captain, that the bullet had
+      carried with it into the muscle a fragment of Michael J.'s undershirt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, his physical sufferings were as nothing compared with those he
+      experienced mentally. He had hoped to be in fair fighting condition within
+      a week at the latest. Wrapped in paper and tucked away in the back of the
+      ship's safe he had a silver-hilted stiletto he had taken away from a
+      cutthroat who had tried to rob him once in Valparaiso&mdash;and with this
+      weapon he had planned to cut away the lock on the state-room door. And
+      once outside&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What Michael J. Murphy did not know was that when one has dislocated one's
+      shoulder one will do very little wood-carving during the three subsequent
+      weeks. It almost broke the skipper's heart to think he had made a threat
+      in good faith, and was balked from making it good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During this entire period Mr. Reardon was going about his duties as usual,
+      in absolute ignorance of the state of affairs about the ship, for he was
+      an innocent, trustful sort of fellow, and to a born romanticist like
+      Terence the fairy tale which Mr. Schultz had spun at breakfast the morning
+      after leaving Pernambuco was not at all difficult of assimilation. It
+      appeared&mdash;according to Mr. Schultz&mdash;that the skipper had gone
+      ashore for a night of roystering, and upon returning to the ship about
+      midnight, in a wild state of intoxication, had become involved in an
+      altercation with the launchman over the fare. In the resultant battle the
+      skipper, in his helpless condition, was being terribly beaten by the
+      vicious Pernambucan; hence one could scarcely blame him for drawing a
+      pistol and shooting the launchman&mdash;fatally, according to Mr. Schultz.
+      Of course, after that, to have lingered longer inside the three-mile limit
+      would have been sheer insanity, so Mr. Schultz, taking matters into his
+      own hands, had uphooked and skipped with doused lights from the
+      jurisdiction of the Pernambuco police.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how did the skipper come out of all this?&rdquo; Mr. Reardon had inquired
+      anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He iss in rodden shape,&rdquo; Mr. Schultz had declared. &ldquo;Von of hiss angles
+      vos brogen, und he vos cut mid a knive&mdash;preddy deeb, but noddings to
+      worry aboud. Der only drouble iss der dooty of navigading der shib falls
+      double on der segond mate und me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make him pay ye over-time out av his own wages, the wurthless vagabone!&rdquo;
+       Mr. Reardon had urged. &ldquo;May he walk wit' a limp for the rest av his days&mdash;bad
+      cess to him! I've a notion, Misther Schultz, that lad'll never comb his
+      hair grey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Schultz nodded lugubriously; then he glanced up and caught the little
+      cockney steward staring at him so balefully, that he realized he must have
+      speech in private with the steward. Consequently he lingered at table
+      until Mr. Reardon finished his breakfast and went below; whereupon Mr.
+      Schultz intimated to the steward, in his direct blunt fashion, that for
+      the remainder of the voyage, Riggins&mdash;for that was the steward's name&mdash;was
+      to consider himself deaf, dumb and blind; the penalty for reconsideration
+      within the hearing of Mr. Reardon being a swift and immediate excursion,
+      personally conducted by Mr. Schultz, to Davy Jones's locker! Following
+      this earnest exhortation, Riggins, never a robust person mentally or
+      physically, came abruptly to the conclusion that this was one of those
+      occasions where silence, if not exactly golden, was at least to be
+      preferred to great riches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      IT may appear strange that during the days and nights Michael J. Murphy
+      lay on his bed of pain Terence Reardon did not once pass the little open
+      window of the skipper's state-room. Not, however, that the latter watched
+      for him, for he did not. He believed that Reardon, like himself, was a
+      prisoner; although, had the chief passed the window and had the captain
+      observed his passing, the complacence of Herr von Staden and his patriotic
+      company would have received a jar much earlier in the voyage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unfortunately, however, for Murphy's plans, the chief's stateroom was
+      located in the after part of the house and on the side opposite the
+      skipper's, and following their brief spat through the speaking-tube,
+      Terence Reardon had confined himself exclusively to his engine-room and
+      that portion of the ship along which he must of necessity pass when going
+      to and from his state-room. He told himself it was the part of wisdom for
+      one of his ferocious temper to avoid the occasions of sin. Certainly it
+      would be hard to pass the skipper's state-room without looking in,
+      particularly since in these warm latitudes the door would probably be
+      open; for should the skipper be within at the time, they would
+      peradventure scowl at each other, and he is a fool indeed who cannot
+      foretell the future when a thousand generations of natural enemies
+      exchange &ldquo;the black look.&rdquo; Terence remembered his boy Johnny, a youth who,
+      according to Mrs. Reardon, should never be a marine engineer, but the
+      finest lawyer that ever pouched a fat fee. And there was Mary Agnes and
+      Catherine Bertram. Next year they would begin taking piano lessons, and in
+      the fullness of time, no matter how hard the pull, both should go to the
+      state university and acquire the education made to fit their father's
+      head, but by force of circumstances denied him. And at the thought Terence
+      looked at his hard black hands and set himself resolutely to face a life
+      sentence of rattling ash hoists, roaring furnaces and the soft sucking
+      sounds of the pistons. Two hundred dollars a month&mdash;and the union
+      scale was a hundred and fifty! Ah, no, he dared not trifle with that job.
+      He must, at all hazard, avoid friction with the skipper, for what would
+      Mrs. Reardon say if Cappy Ricks forced him to roll the bones with Mike
+      Murphy&mdash;one flop and high man out? Mr. Reardon could close his eyes
+      and see Mike Murphy roll out a &ldquo;stiff,&rdquo; while with trembling hand the
+      Reardon rolled five sixes!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The <i>Narcissus</i> had been out of Pernambuco harbor four days before
+      Mr. Reardon, upon comparing the sun&mdash;which all are agreed rises in
+      the east&mdash;with the direction in which the ship was headed, and then
+      extracting the cube root of the resultant product, and subtracting it from
+      the longtitude and latitude of the Cape of Good Hope, decided that there
+      must be something wrong with Mr. Schultz's navigation. So he spoke to Mr.
+      Schultz about it, and was laughingly informed that they were traveling on
+      a great circle. Thereupon Mr. Reardon remembered that at sea a ship
+      traveling on the arc of a great circle, for some mysterious reason
+      repudiates the old geometrical theorem that a straight line is the
+      shortest distance between two points. He recalled that vessels plying
+      between San Francisco and Yokohama describe a great circle which brings
+      them well up toward the Aleutian Islands, So he was satisfied with the
+      explanation, this being his first voyage into the South Atlantic anyhow;
+      but he continued to observe the sun each morning, and still the vessel's
+      head held far to the south. A suspicion that all was not as it should be
+      slowly settled in Mr. Reardon's head, and though he said nothing, he used
+      his ejes and ears. A dozen times a day, as the ship rolled steadily south,
+      he was tempted to take down the speaking tube and confide his suspicions
+      to the master, confined in his state-room by reason of deep&mdash;but not
+      serious-knife wounds. Each time he was on the point of yielding, however,
+      he remembered that Mike Murphy had called him a renegade&mdash;so he
+      refrained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The installation of the wireless plant and the presence aboard the ship of
+      Herr von Staden had failed to arouse his suspicions the first day out.
+      True, the wireless could not have been connected with the electric light
+      plant below without Mr. Reardon's knowledge and consent, but when he asked
+      Mr. Schultz about it the latter replied that Cappy Ricks must have changed
+      his mind about installing wireless on the <i>Narcissus</i>, for he had
+      cabled to the agents of the charterers in Pernambuco to have a wireless
+      plant and a competent operator waiting for the vessel upon arrival. It was
+      Mr. Schultz's opinion that the owners had evidently arrived at the
+      conclusion that it was wise to have a wireless aboard during war times.
+      Personally, Mr. Schultz approved of the innovation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So did Terence Reardon, for that matter. He found the new wireless
+      operator a charming fellow, possessed of talents far superior to those of
+      the young men who ordinarily pound the brass at sea. Indeed, after the
+      second day out, Mr. Reardon would have been heartbroken had anything
+      happened to that wireless. For Herr August Carl von Staden sat at the key
+      almost continuously, eavesdropping on the war news, and Mr. Reardon never
+      came to the wireless room that the operator did not have some news of an
+      overwhelming British defeat!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the voyage proceeded, however, and Mr. Reardon's mind grew a trifle
+      uneasy, reluctantly he began to view Herr von Staden and the wireless with
+      apprehension. He asked the affable operator how much the Marconi company
+      charged the <i>Narcissus</i> for his services and the rental of the
+      wireless plant, and von Staden, momentarily stumped, replied that the
+      tariff was two hundred dollars a month; whereupon Reardon knew he lied,
+      for the charge is one hundred and forty. The German, realizing instantly
+      that he was not on the target, added: &ldquo;That is, for a first-grade operator
+      and a plant like this. Of course we furnish cheaper operators and less
+      powerful plants, Mr. Reardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! So that's the way av it?&rdquo; the chief replied, and immediately went to
+      his state-room for the purpose of thinking it over. Eventually he came to
+      the conclusion that all was not as it should be, but that, nevertheless,
+      it was no affair of his. He was paid to obey signals given him from the
+      bridge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Tis no business av mine, afther all,&rdquo; he soliloquized. &ldquo;For why should I
+      be puttin' dogs in windows? He's paid to navigate the ship, an' didn't
+      Cappy Ricks tell me to mind me own business? And yet, there's something
+      wrong in this ship. I feel it in me bones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He felt it with a force that was almost violent when Mr. Schultz called
+      down through the speaking-tube late one afternoon and told him to put her
+      under a dead-slow bell. That meant they were practically heaving to, and
+      steamers only heave to at sea in fine weather when they have reached a
+      certain longitude and latitude and plan to keep an appointment. On the
+      instant there was a strong odor of rat in Terence Reardon's engine room,
+      but his &ldquo;Very well, sir,&rdquo; contained no hint of his surprise and suspicion.
+      He gave his orders to the firemen to bank the fires, and when this had
+      been done he informed his engine-room crew that they might all go on deck
+      for five minutes and get a breath of fresh air. Nothing loath, they
+      scrambled up the steel stairway&mdash;and the instant the last man was out
+      of earshot Terence Reardon sprang to the speaking-tube to whistle up the
+      skipper in his room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now, undoubtedly the cool and calculating Herr August Carl von Staden had
+      been carefully trained to take into consideration, when planning his
+      strategy, every conceivable contingency that might possibly arise. It is
+      probable that the German secret service never turned out a more finished
+      graduate than Herr von Staden; but the fact remains, nevertheless, that
+      there are certain contingencies over which no human being has control. One
+      of these is Newton's law of gravitation; another, an equally immutable law
+      to the effect that water will seek its own level; a third, the
+      vindictiveness of an outraged Irishman; and a fourth, the very natural
+      tendency of any man, not excepting Mr. Terence Reardon, to be profoundly
+      surprised and intensely curious when certain phenomena, which we shall now
+      proceed to explain, take place in the engine room where he is chief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy, having only the day before again essayed the task of
+      whistling up the engine room, and having, by reason of the ball of cotton
+      waste with which the tube had been plugged by the first assistant
+      engineer, again failed to receive the courtesy of a reply from any one,
+      had, to put it mildly, been annoyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, my bullies,&rdquo; he soliloquized as he hung up the tube, &ldquo;you
+      wouldn't speak to me when I wanted to speak to you; so now the first time
+      one of you wants to speak to me I'll hand you a surprise, and I'll hand it
+      to you right in the mouth.&rdquo; And forthwith Michael J. had carefully poured
+      down the speaking tube the contents of the basin in which he had just made
+      his morning ablutions! He longed to do something nasty, and he succeeded
+      admirably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As we have already remarked, water seeks its own level. It ran down the
+      speaking-tube until it encountered the cotton waste plug; whereupon, due
+      to the hydrostatic pressure, the plug gave way and was forced down to the
+      tightly closed mouth of the tube, and the suds backed up behind it. It was
+      pretty warm in the engine room, and most of the water had evaporated by
+      the time Terence Reardon took down the looped tube and opened it for the
+      purpose of putting his lips to the mouthpiece and blowing heartily through
+      it. However, there was about a gill of water left in the tube.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now, as everybody knows, water running down a slope of seventy-five or
+      eighty degrees comes rather fast. Consequently Mr. Reardon had no time to
+      dodge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Why be squeamish? He got a mouthful and was very nauseated for half a
+      minute. Also he cursed, we regret to record, and was very, very angry.
+      Carefully he drained the devilish tube, wiped it clean with some fresh
+      waste, and racked his brain for the right thing to say to Michael J.
+      Murphy. Finally he hit upon something he concluded would about fill the
+      bill, so he put his lips to the mouthpiece once more and whistled up the
+      skipper. To his surprise, however, his breath didn't seem to get anywhere:
+      in fact, it was directed back in his face rather forcefully; so he
+      investigated and discovered the mouthpiece was only half open. Upon
+      endeavoring to open it fully he sensed an obstruction in the back of it,
+      so he unscrewed the mouthpiece and drew forth a ball of dirty,
+      sour-smelling cotton waste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He gazed a moment in speechless wonder. Then: &ldquo;I'll whistle that dirrty
+      Tomfool, until he answers me in self-defense,&rdquo; he announced'to the main
+      motor, and forthwith blew a mighty blast. Almost instantly Michael J.
+      Murphy yelled: &ldquo;Hullo!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murphy,&rdquo; Terence Reardon announced calmly and very distinctly, &ldquo;you're a
+      contimptible dhrunken ape!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Holy Moses! Reardon, is that you?&rdquo; the astounded Murphy demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is-as you'll discover whin you're able to come on deck an' give me the
+      satisfaction I'll demand for the dirrty dab av wather an' cotton waste you
+      put in the tube, knowin' that the firrst time I took it down to spheak to
+      you, ye blackguard, in the line av djooty&mdash;which is the only reason I
+      would spheak to you&mdash;I'd get it full in the mouth. Ye dirrty, lyin',
+      schamin', dhrunken murrderer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused to let that stream of adjectival opprobrium sink in. Silence.
+      Then:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I poured the contents of my washbasin in the tube, I'll admit, but I did
+      not plug it with cotton waste. One of your assistants did that, chief, and
+      as for the water, as God is my judge, I didn't intend it for you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who else would ye be afther insultin' if it wasn't me? Are ye not
+      friendly wit' me assistants?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive me, Reardon, and listen to what I'm going to tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then the tale was told. When it was done Terence Reardon grunted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew it!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I knew it! I felt in me bones there was something
+      wrong aboard this ship. An' so ye were not dhrunk an' disordherly at
+      Pernambuco?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The liars! Did they tell you that? Reardon, it's only the mercy of heaven
+      they didn't murder me. I'm lying here, helpless and crippled in my
+      state-room, with the key turned in the lock. They've stolen my ship from
+      me, and I can tell by the roll of her she's practically hove to under a
+      dead-slow bell this minute. We've reached the rendezvous&mdash;we're
+      waiting for the German fleet to deliver the coal; and oh, man, man, if
+      we're caught by a British cruiser we'll lose the ship! They'll confiscate
+      her, chief. Wirra! Wirra!&rdquo; he cried, breaking into the forgotten wail of
+      his childhood. &ldquo;How can I ever face Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks after
+      this? Reardon, man, they'll think we stood in with the Germans and let
+      them do it. We're both Irish&mdash;they know we're both pro-German&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that you said?&rdquo; Terence demanded sharply. &ldquo;Me pro-German. Me? I <i>was</i>
+      pro-German&mdash;yis&mdash;wanst!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fell a silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now, for the benefit of the uninitiated, be it known that there is a
+      certain curse employed by the Irish and by no other race on earth.
+      Whenever you hear an Irishman employ it, you know instantly&mdash;provided,
+      of course, you are Irish yourself&mdash;just what kind of Irish that
+      Irishman is. You cannot mistake it. There is no possible chance. It is
+      only brought forth with the dust of the centuries on it, so to speak, to
+      grace a fitting occasion. Terence Reardon felt that such an occasion was
+      now at hand. As naturally, as inevitably, therefore, as the suds ran down
+      the speaking-tube, that curse climbed up it&mdash;softly, distinctly, and
+      with a wealth of feeling in the back of it:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God put the curse av Crummle on thim!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon, of course, referred to the late Oliver Cromwell. Any one who
+      has ever read the sorry history of Erin knows what the amiable Oliver did
+      to the Irish. Consequently such an one will have no difficulty in
+      estimating the precise proportions of bad luck Terence Reardon prayed
+      might be the immediate heritage of the crew of the S.S. <i>Narcissus</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy blinked rapidly, for all the world as if Mr. Schultz had
+      entered at that moment and struck him a terrific blow on top of the head.
+      A more dazed Irishman than he never threw an ancient egg or a defunct cat
+      at an alleged Celtic comedian with green whiskers. He was absolutely
+      staggered&mdash;but not for long. The Irish come back very quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shame on you, Terence Reardon!&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;And you with a Masonic ring
+      on your finger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glory be!&rdquo; cried the delighted Terence. &ldquo;Sure are you wan av us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of you!&rdquo; Mike Murphy fairly shrieked. &ldquo;The minute I'm out of this
+      room you'll apologize or fight for thinking I'm a renegade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Naboclish!</i>&rdquo; laughed Terence Reardon, slipping into the Gaelic and
+      out again. &ldquo;The divil a Mason am I! Sure that ring ye saw on me finger
+      that day in the office av the owners belonged to me second assistant in
+      the <i>Arab</i>. He'd lost it in the engine room, an' a mont' afther he'd
+      left I found it. Not knowin' what ship he was in, 'twas me intintion to
+      take the ring over to the Marine Engineers' Association an' lave it for
+      him wit' the secreth'ry; and to make sure I wouldn't forget it I put it on
+      me finger&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you knew, Terence, that with the likes of me round you'd not be
+      liable to forget it,&rdquo; Mike Murphy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As for you, ye divil,&rdquo; Terence continued, &ldquo;faith, what wit' yer English
+      tweeds an' the fancy cut av thim, an' yer lack av the brogue an' the broad
+      <i>a</i> av ye, I thought, begorra, ye were a dirrty Far Down! God love
+      ye, Michael, but 'tis the likes av you I'm proud to be ship-mates wit'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you said you were from Belfast, Terence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I am. I was borrn there, but me parents&mdash;the Lord 'a' merrcy on
+      their sowls&mdash;moved back to Kerry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Terence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, Michael, me poor lad?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you ever drink on duty? I don't mean with your superiors&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The chief chuckled. He knew what Murphy was alluding to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;wit' me equals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Tis a pity, Terence, that man Schultz has the key to my state-room in
+      his pocket. Now if you could manage to tap that Dutchman on the head with
+      something hard and heavy, take the key out of his pocket and throw him
+      overheard, you could let me out of this purgatory I'm in. Then I wouldn't
+      be surprised if the sight of me and the absence of Mr. Schultz would put a
+      bit of heart in that little cockney steward&mdash;and maybe he'd bring a
+      drink to hearten you for what's ahead of you this night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what might that be, avic?&rdquo; Terence demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you to steal the ship back from them, Terence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Michael. 'Tis not a small thing ye ask me to do, but the divil
+      a more willin' man could ye find to ask. Have ye figured out the plan av
+      campaign? Sure what wit' the suddenness av it all I'm all in a shweat wit'
+      excitement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be cold enough before morning, Terry, my boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad luck to you, Michael! Dyin' is wan thing I cannot afford to do,
+      although be the same token they tell me ould Ricks has a kind shpot in the
+      heart av him for the widow an' the orphan&mdash;particularly av thim that
+      dies in his service! As I say, I cannot afford to get kilt, but in back av
+      that ag'in I cannot afford to lose the best job I ever had. An' afther
+      all, 'tis a poor man that won't fight for a fine, kind gentleman&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn the fine, kind gentleman! It serves him right for letting us get
+      into this fix. He can afford the loss of the ship, but you and I, Terence
+      Reardon, cannot afford the loss of our honor and self-respect. For the
+      sake of the blood that's in us we can't afford to let a lot of Dutchmen
+      steal our ship and cargo.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whist!&rdquo; Reardon warned. &ldquo;Hurry up. Me crew is comin' below ag'in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make it a point to pass by my state-room window after dark. You'll find a
+      scrap of paper on the sill. Help yourself to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, I will,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon promised fervently, and the tube closed with
+      a click.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      TERENCE Reardon's preparations for the night's work began the instant he
+      hung up the speaking-tube. The <i>Narcissus</i> carried three assistant
+      engineers, in consequence of which Mr. Reardon was not required to stand a
+      watch unless he so elected; although from force of habit acquired in the
+      days when he had been chief of the <i>Arab</i>&mdash;a little
+      three-thousand-ton tramp&mdash;and perforce had to stand a regular watch,
+      he found it very difficult not to spend at least eight hours in every
+      twenty-four in the engine room. When, eventually, he came to a realization
+      that his job was not to make the engines behave, but to see that they
+      behaved properly, he spent more of his time on deck, and put in only a few
+      hours below during the watch of the third assistant engineer&mdash;the
+      third assistant being a young man in whom the chief reposed exactly that
+      degree of confidence a chief engineer should always repose in a third
+      assistant. Mr. Reardon, therefore, was at liberty to leave the engine-room
+      whenever he felt so disposed; and following his illuminating conversation
+      with the captain he felt very much disposed to leave immediately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He went first to his state-room, where he bathed, changed into new
+      under-clothes and socks, donned a freshly laundered suit of faded
+      dungarees&mdash;old, faded, well-washed dungarees, by the way, always
+      appearing neater and cleaner than new ones&mdash;and shaved; for if
+      Providence willed it that lie should die to-night. Mr. Reardon was
+      resolved to be in such a highly sanitary condition that &ldquo;those upon whom
+      should devolve the melancholy duty of laying him out&rdquo;&mdash;which phrase,
+      in the Hibernian sense, means those who should dispose his limbs, close
+      his eyes, tie up his black jowls with a towel and fold his hands&mdash;alas,
+      so white in death, at last! across his still breast&mdash;might be moved
+      to remark that, notwithstanding the nature of the deceased's vocation,
+      they could not recall ever having seen a cleaner corpse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having attended to his pre-dissolution toilet, Mr. Reardon next sat in at
+      his littered desk, swept a space clear of tobacco crumbs, ashes, pipes and
+      some old copies of the <i>Cork Eagle</i>, and sat down to write a farewell
+      letter to his wife, hoping that, even though his enemies should slay him,
+      yet would they have sufficient respect for the dead to mail that letter to
+      Mrs. Reardon. And, in order that he might not anger his posthumous
+      benefactors, he mentioned nothing of the state of affairs aboard the ship.
+      He merely stated that she might never see him again, in which event she
+      was to call upon the owners and ask them to invest for her the proceeds of
+      his life insurance policy, since they could and would invest it to better
+      advantage than she. Then he spoke of his grief at the thought of the
+      children being forced to forego their college education and suggested that
+      she ask Cappy Ricks to give Johnny a place in his office; also, should the
+      owners offer anything as compensation for the loss of her husband, she was
+      to accept it, for, as God was his judge, she would be entitled to it! This
+      last sentence Terence underscored for emphasis; that was as close as he
+      came to saying that if he died it would be in defense of his owner's
+      interest. Then he commended her to the comfort of her religion and
+      subscribed himself: &ldquo;Your loving and devoted husband, Terence P. Reardon,
+      Chief Engineer S.S. <i>Narcissus</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having set his small affairs in order against a hasty exit from this vale
+      of hatreds, Mr. Reardon, in unconscious imitation of all the condemned men
+      who had preceded him on the voyage across the Styx, repaired to the dining
+      saloon and partook of a hearty meal. He realized he had undertaken a
+      contract that would require the employment of weapons more formidable than
+      his hard fists, and devoutly he wished that, like the fairy queen, he had
+      but to breathe on them to metamorphose them into pig iron. He pictured the
+      slaughter aboard the <i>Narcissus</i> when he should wade into the
+      conflict. Finally he made up his mind that, in lieu of an iron hand or
+      two, he would use his favorite monkey wrench, for he had no firearms
+      whatsoever; although, had somebody presented him with a one-man machine
+      gun with full directions for using, Mr Reardon would have recoiled in
+      horror from it. Firearms were highly dangerous. They killed so many
+      people!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He left the table long before the others had finished. There was no one on
+      deck as he emerged from the dining saloon, so he walked leisurely round
+      past the captain's cabin, whistling the &ldquo;Cruiskeen Lawn&rdquo; to let Mike
+      Murphy know who was coming. Evidently Michael assimilated the hint, for
+      there was an envelope on the little window sill as Terence hove abreast of
+      it. He snatched it swiftly away and continued round to his own state-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The envelope contained Michael J. Murphy's plan for campaign worked out to
+      the most minute detail, by reason of his absolute knowledge of the customs
+      aboard the ship. Mr. Reardon read the remarkable document and sat lost in
+      admiration; a twinkle leaped to his eyes and a cunning, rather deadly
+      little smile came sneaking round the corners of his broad chin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arrah, but 'tis a beautiful schame,&rdquo; he soliloquized. &ldquo;Who but that lad
+      could have t'ought av it? An' here I've been shpendin' the past two hours
+      borrowin' trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He read and reread the plan of attack, in order to familiarize himself
+      with the details; then he held a match to the document and destroyed it.
+      He considered a moment, and then performed a similar service to his
+      farewell letter to Mrs. Reardon, for the chief engineer of the S.S. <i>Narcissus</i>,
+      of San Francisco, had made up his mind not to die&mdash;to-night!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Schultz, the first assistant, and Mr. von Staden were engaged in
+      coffee and repartee when Terence Reardon thrust his head in at the dining
+      saloon window. He was mildly excited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be the Great Gun av Athlone!&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I've just been bit be a
+      bedbug&mdash;an' I t'ought there wasn't a bedbug in the ship!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Schultz looked up, horrified. &ldquo;Chieve,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;dot is rodden news.
+      Bedbugs! <i>Ach!</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' well you may '<i>Ach</i>,' Misther Schultz. Let a colony av bedbugs
+      move into the <i>Narcissus</i> an' Terence P. Reardon will move out.
+      There's only wan thing to do, Misther Schultz, an' that is to tackle the
+      divils before we're overwhelmed be the weight av numbers. Have ye a bit av
+      sulphur in yer shtore-room, Misther Schultz&mdash;the kind that comes in
+      balls an' is used to burrn in shtate-rooms to kill bedbugs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Terence Reardon put that innocent query to the first mate he knew
+      very well Mr. Schultz would reply in the negative&mdash;which he did&mdash;for
+      the reason that Michael J. Murphy had privately informed Mr. Reardon that
+      the little cockney steward, Riggins, had charge of the bedbug ammunition.
+      Riggins, who had been standing with his back against the wall, eyeing Mr.
+      Schultz sourly, now spoke up and said he had some sulphur.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;More power to ye, Riggins!&rdquo; Mr. Reardon declared heartily. &ldquo;Then do ye,
+      like the good lad, give me two or three balls av it. I'll burn them in me
+      shtate-room to-night, wit' the door an' window locked, an' be morrnin'
+      sorra bedbug will be left alive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, sir,&rdquo; Riggins replied. &ldquo;Might Hi arsk, Mr. Reardon, where you
+      hintend passin' the night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll shleep in me auld aisy-chair abaft the house an' next the funnel,
+      where I'll be snug an' warrm,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon replied, for he desired an
+      excuse to be on deck all night without arousing the suspicions of Mr.
+      Schultz or von Staden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The steward, having finished serving those who ate in the dining saloon,
+      stepped out on deck and started for his own room. Mr. Reardon remained by
+      the window a minute, discoursing on the curse of bedbugs aboard a ship,
+      and then with a sigh followed the steward leisurely. Mr. Schultz appeared
+      undecided whether or not to accompany him in the capacity of censor, but
+      finally concluded to remain and finish his coffee, for if Riggins had
+      decided to enlighten the chief as to the real reason for the skipper's
+      indisposition he had had frequent opportunity to do so during the past ten
+      days. It did not seem likely, therefore, that he would run any risks at
+      this late date. To Mr. Schultz, Riggins appeared to be a man who could be
+      depended upon to remember which side his bread was buttered on and who
+      supplied the butter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Arrived at the steward's state-room, Mr. Reardon helped himself to the
+      entire box of bedbug exterminator and addressed Riggins very briefly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Riggins, ye're a child av Johnny Bull, are ye not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Riggins, without the slightest trace of embarrassment, admitted his
+      disgrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' bein' what ye are,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon continued, &ldquo;would ye do somethin' av
+      great binifit to England?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Riggins replied that inasmuch as he had lost two brothers at the Battle of
+      the Marne, that ought to indicate bally well where the Riggins tribe stood
+      on the subject of defense of the realm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; Mr. Reardon murmured. &ldquo;Even if misguided in their pathriotic
+      motives, shtill yer brothers were brave min, an' for that I respect thim.
+      Now, thin, Riggins, ye rabbit, listen to me: In a momint av surpassin'
+      innocince Captain Murphy an' mesilf swallowed a cute suggestion from a lad
+      whose back I'll break in two halves whin the <i>Narcissus</i> gets back to
+      San Francisco. 'Why not save expinse,' says he, 'an' ship the crew av this
+      German liner that's interned over in Richardson's Bay?' Riggins, to make a
+      long shtory short, we have thim this minute, an' the dear God knows that
+      even if shipped at the German scale av wages that gang'll prove a dear
+      crew to the Blue Star Navigation Company if you an' I, Riggins, fail to do
+      our djooty. They've half murdered the captain, shtolen the ship an' cargo
+      from him, an' run her t'ousands av miles off her course to deliver the
+      coal to the German fleet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my bloody ol' Aunt Maria!&rdquo; gasped the horrified Riggins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What I want to know from you, Riggins, is this: Will ye help me shteal
+      the ship back to-night? We're runnin' almost due south, an' that
+      good-for-nothin' von Staden has been in communication wit' the fleet all
+      day long. I feel it in me bones. If we get the ship back we'll head due
+      west for the coast av South America an' hug the three-mile limit-an' the
+      devil scoort them thin. Riggins, ye gossoon, what for the cause av Merry
+      England? They wouldn't take ye for a gift in the British Arrmy, for I
+      doubt if ye'd weigh ninety pounds soakin' wet an' a rock in yer hand, but
+      for all that, here's an iligant opporchunity for ye to serrve yer
+      counthry, an' should worrd av yer brave action reach the king&mdash;bad
+      cess to him&mdash;he may call ye Sir Thomas Riggins an' make ye
+      consul-general av the Cannibal Islands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out wit' it, Riggins. Yer king an' counthry calls ye, an' be the same
+      token so do Michael J. Murphy an' Terence P. Reardon. What'll ye give,
+      Riggins, to preserve the seas to Britain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me 'eart's blood, that's wot!&rdquo; Riggins replied quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I accept the sacrifice in the name av His Majesty, King Jarge! Be on deck
+      at ten o'clock sharp, waitin' close undher the shtarboard companion
+      leadin' to the bridge. Whin I come out on the shtarboard ind av the bridge
+      an' whistle 'O'Donnell Abu,' do ye&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;S'help me, chief, I never 'eard of the blighter before,&rdquo; Riggins
+      interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God forgive me!&rdquo; Mr. Reardon murmured <i>sotto voce</i>. &ldquo;I'll have to do
+      it. Well, thin, Riggins, whin I come out on the shtarboard ind av the
+      bridge an' whistle 'God Save the King'&mdash;troth, I'll gamble that's one
+      blighter ye've hearrd tell av&mdash;do ye run up into the pilot-house an'
+      take the wheel. I'll not whistle until we have the deck to ourselves,
+      wit'out fear av intherruption, an' ye must come quick an' take the wheel,
+      else the vessel'll fall off into the trough av the sea an' commince to
+      wallow&mdash;which same'll wake up the second mate an' bring him an' von
+      Staden on deck to see what's wrong wit' her. An' until I'm ready to call
+      on those lads I'm not wishful to have them call on me! Remimber, Riggins:
+      Wan jump an' ye're into the pilot-house; then howld her head up to the sea&mdash;an'
+      lave the rest to me. Gwan wit' ye now, or that skut, Schultz, will be
+      gettin' suspicious av us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Mr. Schultz came along ten minutes later he found Mr. Reardon very
+      busy calking with oakum the cracks round the door and window of his
+      state-room, through which little wisps of yellow smoke were curling. Mr.
+      Schultz was so completely deceived that he hurried round to his own
+      quarters and pawed over his own mattress and bedding in a vain search for
+      bedbugs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At eight o'clock Mr. Schultz relieved the second mate on the bridge, and
+      five minutes later Terence Reardon, for the first time invaded that
+      forbidden territory. &ldquo;Bad cess to me!&rdquo; he complained plaintively. &ldquo;I'm the
+      picthur av bad luck. I've a leaky connection below an' divil a bit av red
+      lead. Could ye lind me a dab av red lead from yer shtore-room, Misther
+      Schultz?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Schultz marvelled that any man could force his mind to dwell on red
+      lead, leaky pipe connections, sulphur and bedbugs in a ship like the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      at a time like this. He had met a few innocents in his day, but this Irish
+      engineer was most innocent of all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, Mike!&rdquo; he replied, and grinned at his feeble play on words. &ldquo;<i>Und</i>
+      as I gannot leave der bridge yet, here iss der key to der store-room. Helb
+      yourself, mine <i>Freund, und</i> den gif me der key back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye addie-pated son of sin!&rdquo; Mr. Reardon soliloquized as he took the key
+      and departed. &ldquo;Faith, a booby birrd has more sinse nor you! D'ye suppose I
+      didn't wait until ye were on djooty before axin' ye, well knowin' ye'd
+      lind me the key an' I'd be alone in yer shtore-room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon was in the store-room less than two minutes. When he emerged
+      he carried a daub of red lead on an old spoon, as Mr. Schultz, looking
+      down on the dimly lighted main deck, observed. What he did not observe,
+      however, was the chief's action in tossing the spoon overboard the instant
+      he passed beyond the range of Mr. Schultz's vision. It is probable, also,
+      that the mate would have been disturbed could he have seen Mr. Reardon in
+      his state-room, with the door locked, removing from beneath his dungaree
+      jumper several fathoms of light, strong, cotton signal halyard, two
+      five-foot lengths of half-inch steel chain, and a strip of canvas. His
+      pockets also gave up two padlocks, with keys to fit. This loot Mr. Reardon
+      very carefully hid in the space under his settee, after which, with due
+      thanks, he returned the key to Mr. Schultz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The remainder of the evening until nine-thirty Terence spent in the
+      wireless room with Herr von Staden. Then he retired, very low in spirits,
+      to his state-room, to make his preparations for wholesale assault with a
+      deadly weapon&mdash;possibly wholesale murder! He cut the signal halyard
+      into short lengths; then he cut the piece of canvas into strips about two
+      inches wide and secreted the halyard and canvas strips here and there
+      about his person. Then he descended to the engine room and selected his
+      monkey wrench from the tool rack on the wall, helped himself to a handful
+      of cotton waste, and returned to his state-room mournfully keening &ldquo;The
+      Sorrowful Lamentation of Callaghan, Greally and Mullen, killed at the Fair
+      of Turloughmore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wirra,&rdquo; he murmured presently, &ldquo;but 'tis a terrible thing to hit an
+      unsuspectin' man wit' a monkey wrench! An' that divil von Staden, for all
+      his faults, is not a bad lad at all at all. An' I'd give five dollars&mdash;yes,
+      seven an' a half&mdash;if he were bald an' shiny on any other shpot save
+      an' exceptin' the shpot I have to hit him. Ochone!
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   &ldquo;'Come tell me, dearest mother, what makes me father shtay
+    Or what can be th' reason that he's so long away?'
+   'Oh, howld yer tongue, me darlin' son, yer tears do grieve me sore,
+    I fear he has been murdhered in the fair av Turloughmore!'
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, I haven't got the heart to dhrive the head av this monkey wrench
+      into that bald shpot. If he'd hair there I wouldn't mind.&rdquo; Mr. Reardon
+      sighed dismally. &ldquo;I'll have to wrap a waddin' av waste around me weapon,
+      so I'll neither kill nor mangle but lay thim out wit' wan good crack&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   &ldquo;'It is on the firrst av August, the truth I will declare,
+    Those people they assimbled that day all at the fair,
+    But little was their notion that evil was in shtore,
+    All by the bloody Peelers at the fair av Turloughmore.'
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must practice crackin' the divils! Sure, 'twould be an awful thing to
+      have the sin av murrder on me sowl&mdash;not that 'tis murrder to kill a
+      Dutchman that's a self-confessed pirate into the bargain. Shtill, 'tis a
+      terrible t'ought to carry to the grave&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wham! Mr. Reardon brought his padded wrench down on his defenseless bed.
+      &ldquo;Too harrd,&rdquo; he told himself. &ldquo;Sure a blow like that on top av the head
+      would knock out the teeth av the divil himself! Less horse-power,
+      Terence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Wham! He tried it again, this time with better results. For five minutes
+      he beat the bedclothes; then his spirits rose and, like the mercurial Celt
+      that he was, he chanted blithely a verse from &ldquo;The Night Before Larry Was
+      Stretched&rdquo;:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   &ldquo;'Though, sure 'tis the best way to die,
+        Oh, the divil a betther a-livin'!
+    For sure whin the gallows is high,
+        Your journey is shorter to heaven;
+    But what harasses Larry the most,
+        An' makes his poor sowl melancholy,
+    Is to think av the time whin his ghost
+        Will come in a sheet to sweet Molly!
+            Oh, sure, 'twill kill her alive!'&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      He slipped the short, heavy monkey wrench up his right sleeve, walked out
+      on deck and stood at the corner of the house, smoking placidly and gazing
+      down on the main deck forward. The look-out on the forecastle head was not
+      visible in the darkness, but Mr. Reardon was not worried about that. &ldquo;For
+      why,&rdquo; he argued to himself, &ldquo;should I go lookin' for the skut whin if I
+      wait a bit he'll come fluttherin' into me hand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did. At five minutes after ten Mr. Schultz hailed the look-out in
+      German, and although Mr. Reardon spoke no German, yet did he understand
+      that order. Mr. Schultz, a victim of habit, desired the look-out to go to
+      the galley and bring up some hot coffee for him and the helmsman. It was
+      the custom aboard the <i>Narcissus</i>, as it is in most Pacific Coast
+      boats, for the cook, just before retiring, to brew a pot of coffee, drain
+      off the grounds and leave it to simmer on the galley range where, at
+      intervals of two hours during the night, the watch could come and help
+      itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Terence Reardon knew that the look-out, after heating the coffee and
+      bringing a few cups up on the bridge, would return to the galley and
+      partake of a cup and a bite himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man came down off the forecastle head, crossed the main deck and
+      disappeared in the galley. In about ten minutes Mr. Reardon saw him climb
+      up the port companion to the bridge; a minute later he came down. Mr.
+      Reardon waited until he was certain the fellow was sipping his coffee in
+      the galley; then with the utmost nonchalance he went up on the bridge and
+      hailed Mr. Schultz, who was standing amidships blowing on a cup of coffee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Begorra,&rdquo; he complained, &ldquo;Divil a wink can I shleep to-night. I've been
+      sittin' wit' the wireless operator all evenin', an' now, thinks I, he's
+      weary listenin' to me nonsinse, so I'll go up on the bridge an' interview
+      Misther Schultz. If I&mdash;be the Rock av Cashel! What was that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vot? Vere?&rdquo; Mr. Schultz exclaimed, and set down his cup of coffee. He was
+      all excitement, for he had been looking for the flash of a searchlight for
+      the past hour and he wondered now if the unsuspecting Reardon had seen it
+      first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Over that way.&rdquo; Mr. Reardon pointed off the port bow. &ldquo;Did ye not see
+      that light?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A light. <i>Gott im Himmel!</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye can't see it now,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon replied soothingly. He stepped round to
+      the back of the mate and permitted his trusty monkey wrench to slip down
+      into his hand. &ldquo;But if ye continue to look in that direction, Misther
+      Schultz, ye'll see not wan light but several.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Donnerwetter!</i> I gannot see dem,&rdquo; Mr. Schultz protested, wondering
+      if there might not be some defect in his eyesight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have no fear. Keep lookin' that way an' ye'll see thim,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon
+      reassured him. &ldquo;Ha-ha, ye divil!&rdquo; he crooned&mdash;and struck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll gamble ye saw the lights I promised ye,&rdquo; he breathed into the ear of
+      the unconscious mate as he deftly caught the falling body and eased it
+      noiselessly to the deck to avoid calling the attention of the helmsman to
+      the interesting tableau going on behind him. Quickly he gagged Mr. Schultz
+      with a strip of canvas; then he tied his hands behind him and bound him at
+      ankle and knee with the short lengths of signal halyard. As a final
+      attention he &ldquo;frisked&rdquo; the mate and removed his keys and a heavy automatic
+      pistol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lie there now, me jewel,&rdquo; he said, and trotted out to the starboard end
+      of the bridge, whistling shrilly &ldquo;God Save the King.&rdquo; When the swift
+      patter of feet along the deck warned him that the steward was coming, he
+      walked back amidships and opened the little sliding trap in the roof of
+      the pilot-house, which on the <i>Narcissus</i> was set just below the
+      bridge. The quartermaster's head was directly beneath the trap. &ldquo;Oh-ho, me
+      laddybuck!&rdquo; Mr. Reardon murmured, and dropped his padded monkey wrench on
+      that defenseless head. Instantly the quartermaster staggered and hung
+      limply to the wheel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad luck to me, I'll have to hit ye agin,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon complained&mdash;and
+      did it. Then he slid through the trap into the pilot-house, steadied the
+      wheel with one hand and unlocked the pilot-house door with the other to
+      admit the steward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strike me pink!&rdquo; that astounded functionary exclaimed as he gazed at the
+      quartermaster lying beside the wheel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will&mdash;if ye don't take howld av this wheel an' do less talkln',&rdquo;
+       Mr. Reardon replied evenly. &ldquo;Bring her round very slowly, me lad, an' in
+      the intherval I'll wrap up me little Baby Bunting on the floor forninst
+      ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the quartermaster had been duly wrapped <i>a la</i> Mr. Schultz and
+      dragged clear of the wheel, Mr. Reardon returned to the bridge and with
+      brazen impudence set the handle of the marine telegraph over to full speed
+      ahead. He hummed &ldquo;Colleen Dhas Cruthin Amoe&rdquo; as with a light heart he
+      skipped down to the galley and found the look-out eating bread soaked in
+      coffee. Mr. Reardon nodded and said &ldquo;Good nicht, <i>amigo</i>&rdquo; for his
+      voyages had taken him to many ports and he was naturally quick at picking
+      up foreign languages. The fellow, concluding Mr. Reardon desired a cup of
+      coffee also, turned to the rack to get him a cup.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How dare ye ate up the owners' groceries in this shameful manner?&rdquo; Mr.
+      Reardon demanded. &ldquo;Do ye not get enough at mess that ye must be atin'
+      between meals? Shame on you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One tap did the trick. &ldquo;'Tis a black way to repay a kind t'ought,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Reardon observed to his victim as he bound and gagged him; &ldquo;but war is
+      war, an' a faint heart an' a weak stomach never shtole a ship back from
+      forty German pirates!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He closed the galley door on the unfortunate look-out and climbed up on
+      the boat deck to get Michael J. Murphy out of prison. Cautiously he
+      unlocked the state-room door with the key taken from Mr. Schultz, and the
+      skipper came forth. Mr. Reardon led him under an electric light and gazed
+      upon him wonderingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Begorra, Michael, me poor lad,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;be the look av the white
+      face of you I'm thinkin' ye ought to be in bed instid av out raisin'
+      ructions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm weak; I have a fever,&rdquo; Murphy replied. &ldquo;Still, half that fever may be
+      plain lunatic rage. Did you find a gun on the mate?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did. Take it, Michael, I'll have nothin' to do wit' it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The skipper grasped the weapon eagerly. &ldquo;The ship is headed due west
+      undher full speed,&rdquo; Terence explained, &ldquo;an' the mate, the quarter-master
+      an' the look-out have all received evidence av me affectionate regard.
+      Next!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Staden. He kicked me and broke my ribs, Terence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wit' the greatest joy in life, Michael. The skut's busy in the wireless
+      room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So they went to the wireless room. Von Staden was taking a message as they
+      entered; at sound of their footsteps he turned carelessly and found
+      himself looking down the muzzle of the captain's automatic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will ye take it peaceably, ye gossoon, or must I brain ye wit' this
+      monkey wrench?&rdquo; Mr. Reardon queried fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And take your hand off that key, you blackguard. No S O S,&rdquo; Murphy
+      ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The supercargo stared at them impudently. &ldquo;This,&rdquo; he said presently, &ldquo;is
+      one of those inconceivable contingencies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your early education was neglected, Dutchy. However, don't complain and
+      say I didn't give you warning. Terence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, Michael?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All well-regulated ships carry a few sets of handcuffs and leg irons. If
+      you will put your hand in my right hip pocket, Terence, lad, you'll find a
+      pair for present emergencies. They were in my desk and I concluded to
+      bring them along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' a pious t'ought it was, Michael.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So they handcuffed Herr August Carl von Staden and gagged him, after which
+      Mr. Reardon, leaving the skipper to guard his prisoner, ran round to his
+      own room and got the two lengths of chain and the padlocks. When he
+      returned, Michael J. Murphy kicked his unwelcome supercargo to the mate's
+      store-room and Mr. Reardon locked him in among the paint pots, pipe, old
+      iron and other odds and ends which accumulate in a mate's store-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They went next to the door of the forecastle. It was open&mdash;and, what
+      was better, it opened inward. Also, it was of steel with a stout brass
+      ring on the lock, this ring taking the place of what on a landsman's door
+      would have been a knob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Terence Reardon and Michael J. Murphy listened. From within came a medley
+      of gentle sighs, snores and the slow, regular breathing of sleeping men.
+      Softly Mr. Reardon closed the door, turned the ring until the latch
+      caught, drew a section of chain through the ring in such a manner as to
+      prevent the latch from being released, passed the ends of his chain round
+      the steel handrail along the front of the forecastle and padlocked them
+      there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, thin,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon announced, &ldquo;that takes care av the carpenter, the
+      bos'n, four seamen, two waiters an' the mess bhoy. Do ye wait here a
+      minute, Michael, lad, whilst I run up on the bridge and give that
+      unmintionable Schultz the wanst over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The weak, half-dead Murphy sat down on the hatch coaming and waited. The
+      chief was away about ten minutes and the captain was on the point of
+      investigating when Mr. Reardon appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That unfortunate divil had come to, an' was lookin' an' feelin' cowld
+      whin I wint up on the bridge,&rdquo; he explained, &ldquo;so I wint to me room an' got
+      a pair av blankets to wrap round him where he lay. It's wan thing to tap a
+      man on the head, but 'tis another to let him catch his death av cowld.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Murphy smiled. Ordinarily he would have laughed at the whimsical
+      Terence, but he didn't have a good laugh left in him. His lung was
+      hurting, so he suspected an abscess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They returned to the boat deck, and with his rule Mr. Reardon carefully
+      measured the exact distance between the ship's rail and the center of the
+      doors of the state-rooms occupied by the mates and assistant engineers.
+      This detail attended to, they went to the carpenter's little shop and cut
+      two scantlings of a length to correspond to the measurements taken, and in
+      addition Mr. Reardon prepared some thin cleats with countersunk holes for
+      the insertion of screws. He worked very leisurely, and it was eleven
+      o'clock when he had everything in readiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's nothin' to do now until midnight, whin the watch in the ingine
+      room is changed,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon suggested, &ldquo;so lave us go to the galley. Wan
+      av me brave lads is in there, an' if he's not dead intirely, faith, I'm
+      thinkin' I might injoy a cup av coffee!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So they went to the galley and found the look-out glaring at them. He made
+      inarticulate noises behind his gag, so Mr. Reardon, much relieved, found
+      seats for each of them and poured coffee. Then he filled his pipe, crossed
+      his right leg over his left knee and puffed away. He was the speaking
+      likeness of Contentment. And well he might be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first assistant engineer had been driving the <i>Narcissus</i> for an
+      hour at full speed at right angles to the course he believed she was
+      pursuing. He would, being totally ignorant of the change of masters,
+      continue to drive her at full speed until midnight, when he would come off
+      watch, tired and sleepy, and go straight to his state-room. The second
+      assistant would go direct from his state-room to duty in the engine-room
+      and continue to drive the <i>Narcissus</i> at full speed until four
+      o'clock, and inasmuch as it would be quite dark still when the third
+      assistant came on at four o'clock to relieve the engineer on watch, there
+      was not the slightest doubt in the minds of Murphy and the chief but that
+      the deception could go on until breakfast. However, that would interfere
+      with their plans. Long before that hour the men locked in the forecastle
+      would have discovered their plight, and the noise of the discovery might
+      reach below decks and bring up, to investigate, just a few more husky
+      firemen and coal passers than even the redoubtable Terence Reardon could
+      hope to cope with successfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By four o'clock we'll be more than fifty miles off the course Schultz was
+      holding her on,&rdquo; the captain suggested. &ldquo;In all likelihood the German
+      admiral wirelessed his last position and the course he was steering, and
+      von Staden gave Schultz his course accordingly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, we're not a moment too soon at that,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon replied.
+      &ldquo;Schultz was lookin' for searchlights whin I tapped him. Be the Toe Nails
+      av Moses ye're right, Michael. We'll be so far off that course be daylight
+      they won't even see our shmoke. D'ye think that little handful av bones,
+      Riggins, can manage the wheel until we've claned up the ingine-room gang?
+      We can relieve him wit' wan av the Chinamen then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell him he'll have to stick it out. And by the way, Terence, come to
+      think of it, you had better run forward and remove the sidelights; then
+      unscrew all of the incandescent lamps on deck until the contact is lost.
+      You can screw them in again just before the watch is changed, so they
+      won't suspect anything, and unscrew them again after we have the watch
+      under lock and key. The fleet may be too far away to see our smoke by
+      daylight, but they may be close enough to see our lights to-night! Tell
+      Riggins to darken the pilot-house. The binnacle light is enough to keep
+      him company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrue for ye,&rdquo; Terence replied, and hurried away to carry out Murphy's
+      instructions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At twelve o'clock the second assistant engineer, hurrying along the deck
+      to relieve the first assistant on watch, found Mr. Reardon leaning over
+      the rail meditatively puffing his old briar pipe. In answer to the
+      former's query as to what kept the chief up so late, the latter replied
+      that he was burning sulphur in his room to kill bedbugs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The good Lord forgive me the lie,&rdquo; he prayed when a few minutes later he
+      was called upon by the first assistant, hurrying off watch, to repeat the
+      same tale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first assistant and his watch had a shower-bath and turned in. They
+      were not interested in the workings of the deck department in the dark;
+      they could not know that the vessel's course had been changed; they
+      thought only of getting to sleep. Mr. Reardon waited until one-thirty A.
+      M. to provide against possible sleepless ones, and then crept aft on
+      velvet feet. The <i>Narcissus</i> had very commodious quarters in her
+      stern, where her coolie crew had been housed in the days when she ran in
+      the China trade; and when the Blue Star Navigation Company took her over
+      these quarters had been fitted up to accommodate the engine room crew. In
+      the same manner, therefore, that he had imprisoned the men of the deck
+      department in the forecastle, Mr. Reardon now proceeded to imprison the
+      men of the engine department in the sterncastle. This delicate mission
+      accomplished, he went up top-side and measured the diameter of the
+      ventilators, in order to make certain that the thinnest of his German
+      canaries could not fly the cage via that difficult route. Having satisfied
+      himself that he had no need to worry on this score, he made his way
+      forward again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Michael, me poor lad,&rdquo; he announced as he rejoined the skipper,
+      &ldquo;I'll tell you wan thing&mdash;an' it isn't two. The crew av the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      off watch at this minute will never come on watch ag'in&mdash;in the <i>Narcissus</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The skipper smiled wanly. &ldquo;I'm sorry you must take all the risks and do
+      all the work, Terence,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gwan wit' ye, Michael. Sure if I had a head on me like you, an' a college
+      edication in back av that ag'in, I'd be out playin' golf this minute wit'
+      Andhrew Carnegie an' Jawn D. Rockefeller&mdash;ayther that, or I'd have
+      been hung for walkin' away wit' the Treasury Buildin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They discussed the remaining details of that portion of the ship cleaning
+      still before them. &ldquo;Remember, Terence,&rdquo; Mike Murphy warned the chief,
+      &ldquo;when the blow-off comes at four o'clock and the uproar commences fore and
+      aft, we have the means to keep them quiet. I'll go forward and you go aft.
+      When we threaten to throw burning sulphur down the ventilators and
+      suffocate them, they'll sing soft and low!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon chuckled. &ldquo;An' Schultz t'ought I was afther bedbugs whin I
+      asked the shteward for the sulphur,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;Shtill an' all,
+      Michael,&rdquo; he added, a trifle wistfully, &ldquo;I could wish for a bit more
+      excitement, considerin' the size av the job.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't worry, Terry, you may get it yet. I'm dizzy and weak, chief; I'm
+      fearful I'll not be able to last out the night&mdash;and these Germans are
+      desperate. Suppose we go forward now, while I'm able, and awaken Mr.
+      Henckel. It's high time he relieved Mr. Schultz, and he'll be waking
+      naturally if we let him oversleep much longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The subjugation of Mr. Henckel was accomplished without the slightest
+      excitement or bloodshed. Mr. Reardon rapped at his door and Mr. Henckel
+      replied sleepily in German. The skipper and the chief merely lurked, one
+      on each side of his state-room door, until he stepped briskly out;
+      whereupon the captain jabbed him with the gun while Mr. Reardon shook the
+      monkey wrench under his nose. Indeed, Mr. Reardon had the gag in the
+      second mate's mouth even while it hung open in surprise. They bound him
+      hand and foot, and Mr. Reardon picked him up and tucked him gently in his
+      berth, for, as the chief remarked to him, he was as safe there as anywhere
+      and far more comfortable, although Mike Murphy objected and was for
+      putting him in the mate's store-room with von Staden, whom they had put in
+      the dirtiest and most unwholesome spot aboard the <i>Narcissus</i>, for
+      two reasons: In the first place, he had kicked Michael J. Murphy and shot
+      him through the shoulder; and in the second place, he was the cleanest
+      German and the most wholesome pirate they had ever seen, and they figured
+      the contrast would annoy him. Mr. Reardon, however, objected to this plan.
+      He argued that von Staden would be glad of Mr. Henckel's company, and was
+      it not their original intention to keep that laddybuck von Staden in
+      solitary confinement? It was. They closed the state-room door on Mr.
+      Henckel, and left him to meditate on his sins while they repaired to the
+      carpenter's little shop, to return to the boat deck presently with the
+      scantlings and cleats Mr. Reardon had prepared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the scantling the chief shored up the doors to the state-room
+      occupied respectively at the time by the first and third assistant
+      engineers; then he screwed the cleats into place at top and bottom, so the
+      scantling could not slip. Not for worlds would he have used a hammer to
+      nail them into place, for that would have spoiled the surprise for the
+      objects of his attentions. Throughout the entire operation he was as
+      silent as a burglar, although by way of additional precaution the captain
+      stood by with drawn pistol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now thin, Michael,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon whispered as they pussy-footed away,
+      &ldquo;there are six fine Germans below in the ingine room, an' two Irishmen an'
+      half an Englishman on deck. The Chinee cooks don't count, for sure the
+      poor heathens would only get excited and turrn somebody loose if we asked
+      them to do anything desperate. And, as ye know, wan good Irishman&mdash;and
+      bad luck to the man that says I am not that&mdash;can keep a hundhred
+      Germans from comin' up out av that ingine room. Go to yer bed, Michael,
+      an' lie down until I call ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better take this automatic,&rdquo; Murphy suggested, and showed him how to use
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Reardon resolutely refused to abandon his monkey wrench, although
+      he consented to carry the automatic to Riggins in the pilot-house. The
+      estimable Riggins had been steering a somewhat erratic course, for he
+      found it impossible to keep his eye on the lubber's mark while the bound
+      quartermaster glared balefully at him from the floor. Indeed Riggins had
+      been pondering his fate should that husky Teuton ever get the upper hand
+      again; hence, when he found himself in a state of preparedness and was
+      informed that he must stick by the wheel until relieved, the prospect did
+      not awe him in the least. The present odds were counterbalanced by the
+      strategic position held by the minority, and Riggins was content.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On his way back to his state-room, there to rest until the final call to
+      arms, Michael J. Murphy concluded it would be well to search the quarters
+      of the second mate and Herr von Staden for contraband of war. So he did,
+      with the result that he unearthed in von Staden's room the rifle and
+      revolver which belonged to the <i>Narcissus</i>, and under the second
+      mate's pillow he found another automatic pistol. He confiscated all three
+      weapons by right of discovery, and hid the rifle in the galley, the last
+      place anybody would think of looking for it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the meantime Mr. Reardon proceeded further to strengthen his position
+      by closing the port entrance to the engine room and shoring up the door
+      with a stout scantling, cleated at top and bottom to hold it securely in
+      place. Then he donned Mr. Schultz's heavy watchcoat, dragged round from
+      the lee of the house the upholstered easy-chair Mrs. Reardon had insisted
+      upon his taking to sea with him for use in his leisure moments, placed
+      this chair on deck just outside the starboard entrance to the engine room,
+      loaded his pipe, laid his trusty monkey wrench across his knee and gave
+      himself up to the contemplation of this riot we call life. He resembled a
+      cat watching beside a gopher hole. By half-past three o'clock he had
+      finished figuring out approximately the amount of money Mrs. Reardon would
+      have in the Hibernia Bank at the end of five years&mdash;figuring on a
+      monthly saving of fifty dollars and interest compounded at the rate of
+      four per cent. So, having satisfied himself that Johnny would yet be a
+      lawyer and the girls learn to play the piano, Mr. Reardon heaved a sigh
+      and reluctantly went to call Michael J. Murphy for the final accounting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At ten minutes to four Mr. Uhl, the second assistant, a man of some thirty
+      years and ordinarily possessed of a disposition as placid as that of a
+      little Jersey heifer, ordered one of his firemen to go and call the watch
+      to relieve them. Mr. Reardon, his monkey wrench firmly grasped in his
+      right hand, knew that at exactly ten minutes to four Mr. Uhl would issue
+      that order&mdash;so he was on the spot to receive the fireman as the
+      latter came leisurely up the greasy steel stairway. As the fellow emerged
+      on deck he paused to wipe his heated brow with a sweat rag and draw in a
+      welcome breath of cool fresh air. He did not succeed in getting his lungs
+      quite full, however, for Michael J. Murphy, lurking beside the door,
+      thrust the barrel of his gun in the fireman's ribs, effectually curtailing
+      the process of respiration practically at once. From the other side of the
+      door the chief engineer stepped out and wagged his bludgeon under the
+      fireman's nose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Ach!</i>&rdquo; Mr. Reardon coughed, and grimaced pleasantly. &ldquo;<i>Schmierkase
+      und Sauerkraut</i>, ye big shtiff! <i>Vat wilse du haben</i>, eh? <i>Zwei
+      bier?</i> Damn the weather, as Misther Schultz would say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid his finger on his lips, enjoining silence; then with the same
+      finger he pointed sternly onward, and the fireman took the hint. In the
+      clear space aft the house and next to the funnel Mr. Reardon bound and
+      gagged him and laid him tenderly on his back to await developments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now thin, Michael,&rdquo; he said to the skipper, &ldquo;lave us go back an' see can
+      we catch another. At four o'clock, whin this lad fails to return, Misther
+      Uhl, the omadhaun, will sind up another man to see what the divil ails the
+      firrst man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And it was even so. This time it was the oiler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At five minutes after four a coal passer came up the stairs, and he was
+      swearing at the delay in being relieved. Something told Mr. Reardon this
+      fellow would make trouble, so without warning he hit the coal passer a
+      light rap &ldquo;to take the conceit out av him.&rdquo; Two minutes later the coal
+      passer had joined his fellows beside the funnel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At a quarter after four Mr. Uhl scratched his head and said something very
+      explosive in German. He started up the stairs, got halfway up&mdash;and
+      came down. It had occurred to him very suddenly that three men had already
+      gone up the stairs and had failed to return. He called a fireman and gave
+      him some very explicit orders in German; whereupon the man disappeared in
+      the shaft alley. Five minutes later he returned, pop-eyed with excitement
+      and the bearer of a tale that caused Mr. Uhl to arch his blond eyebrows
+      and murmur dazedly &ldquo;<i>So?</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes passed. Mr. Reardon glanced interrogatively at Michael J.
+      Murphy. &ldquo;I think the divils are suspicious,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;We should have
+      had another be now. Have a care now, Michael. Whin they come they come
+      wit' a rush an'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A pistol shot echoed through the ship. It came up from forward. Three more
+      followed in rapid succession&mdash;a scream&mdash;a shout!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May the divil damn me!&rdquo; Terence Reardon cried in a horrified voice. &ldquo;I
+      clane forgot the little companion hatch at the ind av the shaft alley.
+      They've crawled down the shaft alley an' up on deck at the very sterrn av
+      the ship!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He dashed aft towards the spot where his prisoners were laid out close to
+      the funnel. As he turned the corner of the house he observed that the
+      electric lamp which he had so carefully screwed out of its socket had been
+      screwed in again, and by its light Terence beheld no less a person than
+      Mr. Uhl cutting the halyards that bound the oiler. The fireman had already
+      been cut loose, but the potent effects of Terence Reardon's blow with the
+      wrench still remained; though conscious, the man was unfit for combat. The
+      coal passer, evidently the first man to be rescued by Mr. Uhl, was
+      standing by.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gower that, ye divils!&rdquo; Mr. Reardon shrieked, and charged, swinging his
+      monkey wrench with all his horsepower. He missed his first stroke at Mr.
+      Uhl, who very deftly stabbed him high up on the hip for his carelessness;
+      then the chief swung again, and Mr. Uhl was out of the fight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not so the big coal passer, however. He planted in Terence Reardon's face
+      as pretty a left and right&mdash;hay-makers both&mdash;as one could hope
+      to see anywhere outside a prize-ring; whereupon the chief took the count
+      with great abruptness. The fireman reached for the monkey wrench&mdash;and
+      at that instant the weak, pale-faced skipper lurched around the corner of
+      the house and his automatic commenced to bark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not a time for sentiment. Michael J. Murphy glanced once at Terence
+      Reardon's bloody, upturned face, and the glazed eyes thrilled him with
+      horror. The chief engineer was dead! That meant that Michael J. Murphy
+      would soon be dead, too. Well, they had fought a good fight and lost, so
+      nothing now remained for him to do save slaughter as many of the enemy as
+      possible and go to his accounting like a gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned his back on the heap of bloody, prostrate men, stepped over a
+      little rivulet of gore that ran rapidly toward the scupper as the ship
+      heeled to port, then hesitated and started back as she heeled to
+      starboard. He was vaguely conscious that Mr. Uhl had shut down his engines
+      before coming on deck and that in consequence the ship had lost headway
+      and was beginning to wallow. In his weak state her plunging caused him to
+      stagger like a drunken man. As he crossed to the port side of the ship and
+      gazed down the deck he noticed that the incandescent lamps had all been
+      screwed back in their sockets, and by their brilliant light he beheld one
+      of the firemen in the act of removing the scantling from before the first
+      assistant's door. Just as the door swung open the captain fired, but
+      evidently missed, for the man sprang nimbly into the state-room for
+      safety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If the great European War has proved nothing else to date, it has
+      demonstrated one comforting thing about the German people: one does not
+      grow impatient waiting for them to carry the fight to him. The fireman had
+      no sooner entered the first assistant's state-room than the first
+      assistant came out. He was wearing his pajamas and a piece of young
+      artillery, and without the slightest embarrassment he commenced shooting
+      at Michael J. Murphy, who, not to be outdone in politeness while he could
+      stand and see, promptly returned the compliment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first assistant's first shot nipped a neat little crescent out of Mike
+      Murphy's large red right ear; his second ripped clean through the inside
+      of the skipper's left leg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;High and then low,&rdquo; was the thought that capered through Mike Murphy's
+      brain. &ldquo;God grant he don't get me through the middle! That's what comes of
+      fast shooting&mdash;so I guess I'll go slow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The electric lamp over his head was shattered and the fragments scattered
+      round him as he leaned against the corner of the house and took careful
+      aim at the first assistant, who missed his next shot by a whisker and died
+      in his tracks with two cartridges still in his gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dazedly Michael J. Murphy advanced along the deck, stepped over the body
+      and entered the state-room. In the corner the fireman crouched, hands
+      uplifted in token of surrender, so the skipper closed the door and shored
+      it up again with the scantling. Mechanically he picked up the first
+      assistant's huge revolver, broke it, removed the cartridges and threw them
+      overboard. Then he slipped a clip of seven cartridges into his automatic
+      and staggered round to Mr. Henckel's state room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door was open. The bird had flown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy went in and sat down on Mr. Henckel's settee, for he was
+      very weak and dizzy; and at least nobody could shoot at him in there.
+      &ldquo;Come, come, Michael,&rdquo; he croaked, &ldquo;no going out this voyage. You have
+      work ahead of you. Pull yourself together and let us count noses. Now
+      then, there were two firemen, two coal passers, one oiler and Mr. Uhl on
+      watch. Terence killed Mr. Uhl with the monkey wrench, I killed the big
+      coal passer, I think I killed the oiler, and one fireman was out of the
+      scrap from the beginning. Then I killed the first assistant and locked the
+      other fireman in his room. That leaves Mr. Henckel and a coal passer to be
+      reckoned with. Now there was some shooting up forward and somebody was
+      hit. That means Riggins shot somebody or somebody shot Riggins. The second
+      mate probably went forward to let the men out of the forecastle, while the
+      fireman went aft to let the engine-room gang out of the sterncastle. They
+      haven't had time to do it yet; they'll have to pry those rings out of the
+      door with a crowbar. I'll go aft and drive the fireman forward; when I
+      have them bunched I'll argue with them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He arrived at the break of the house and looked down on the deck aft. The
+      lights had been turned on and a man was just raising a short crowbar to
+      attack the door, from behind which came shouts and cries of anger and
+      consternation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy rested his automatic on the deck rail and fired twice at the
+      man in front of the sterncastle door. The fellow fled at once dashing
+      along the deck, zigzag fashion, to distract the skipper's aim, and
+      disappeared in the dark entrance to the starboard alleyway. So Michael J.
+      Murphy slid down the companion and followed into the alleyway, firing two
+      shots for luck as he came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Scarcely had he disappeared into the murk amidships when Terence Reardon
+      rolled groggily down the companion after him. Terence had no means of
+      ascertaining which alleyway the skipper had charged into&mdash;and he did
+      not care. Blind with fury he lurched into the port alleyway; in
+      consequence of which the fugitive, fleeing ahead of the captain down the
+      starboard alleyway and thinking to turn down the port alleyway and double
+      back to complete his labors at the sterncastle door, bumped squarely into
+      the chief engineer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon said no word, but wrapped his arms round the man and held the
+      latter close to his breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus for a moment they stood, gripping each other, each wondering whether
+      the other was friend or foe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Mr. Reardon decided that even if his nose was bloody he could not
+      possibly be mistaken in the odor of a fireman just come off watch. He had
+      lost his monkey wrench in the <i>melee</i> on the upper deck&mdash;the
+      defunct Mr. Uhl having fallen upon it, thereby obscuring it from Mr.
+      Reardon's very much befogged vision, but his soul was still undaunted, for
+      Mr. Reardon, in common with most chief engineers still in their prime,
+      firmly believed that he could trounce any fireman he saw fit to employ. He
+      bit suddenly into the fireman's cheek just where the flesh droops in a
+      fold over the lower jaw, and was fortunate enough to secure a grip that
+      bade fair to hold; then he crooked his leg at the back of his opponent's
+      and slowly shoved the fellow's head backward. They came down together, Mr.
+      Reardon on top, content for once to hold his man helpless&mdash;and rest&mdash;while
+      his enemy's shrieks of pain and rage resounded through the ink-black
+      alleyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy heard that uproar and halted. After listening a few
+      seconds he came to the conclusion that a German was in deep distress, and
+      that hence it was no part of his business to interfere. Besides, he had
+      business of his own to attend to. He could hear a chain rattling up
+      forward, and while it was too dark to see who or what was doing the
+      rattling, he found Mr. Henckel guilty on mere suspicion, and fired at the
+      sound; whereupon somebody said &ldquo;<i>Ach, Gott!</i>&rdquo; in tones of deep
+      disgust, two little flashes of fire cut the dark, and two bullets
+      whispered of death as they flew harmlessly down the alleyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Instantly Mike Murphy returned the salute, firing at the other's flashes;
+      then he fell to the deck and rolled over into the scupper to escape the
+      return fire, which was not slow in coming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder where the devil he got that gun,&rdquo; was Murphy's comment. &ldquo;Mr. Uhl
+      must have had it in his pocket and lent it to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was profound silence within the forecastle, and pending the
+      destruction of his attacker Mr. Henckel judged it imprudent to make any
+      further attempts at a delivery. He required time to formulate a plan of
+      attack, and in the interim he desired shelter. Mike Murphy heard the
+      patter of feet, the patter ceasing almost as soon as it commenced&mdash;and
+      he smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's hiding,&rdquo; the captain soliloquized. &ldquo;Now, where would I take shelter
+      if I were in his fix? Why, back of the hatch-coaming, of course&mdash;or
+      the winch.&rdquo; He had a sudden inspiration and called aloud:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Riggins! Riggins! Answer me, Riggins. This is Captain Murphy calling
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Ere, sir,&rdquo; came the voice of Riggins from the pilot-house above. The
+      voice was very weak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Climb out of the pilot-house, Riggins, to the bridge, turn on the
+      searchlight and bend it down here on the deck till I get a shot at this
+      scoundrel. Don't be afraid of him, Riggins. It's Henckel and he can't
+      shoot for beans. Get the light fair on him and keep it on him; it'll blind
+      him and he won't be able to shoot you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The dirty dawg!&rdquo; snarled Riggins wearily. &ldquo;'E come up on the bridge a
+      while&mdash;ago&mdash;an' I drove 'im off&mdash;but 'e plugged me, sir&mdash;through
+      the guts, sir&mdash;an' me a married man! Wot in 'ell'll my ol' woman&mdash;say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And that was the last word Riggins ever spoke. True, he managed to crawl
+      out of the pilot-house and up the short companion to the bridge; he
+      reached the searchlight, and while Mr. Henckel and Mike Murphy swapped
+      shots below him he turned on the switch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bend it on the deck, Riggins. On the deck, my bully, on the deck,&rdquo; Mike
+      Murphy pleaded as the great beam of white light shot skyward and remained
+      there; nor could all of Murphy's pleading induce Riggins to bend it on the
+      deck, for Riggins was lying dead beside the searchlight, while ten miles
+      away an officer on the flying bridge of H.M.S. Panther watched that finger
+      of light pointing and beckoning with each roll of the ship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something awf'lly queer, what?&rdquo; he commented when reporting it to his
+      superior.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rather,&rdquo; the superior replied laconically. &ldquo;It can't be the Dresden and
+      neither is it one of ours. We'll skip over and have a look at her, Reggie,
+      my son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy had two shots left in his automatic, and he was saving
+      those for daylight and Mr. Henckel's rush, when a searchlight came
+      nickering and feeling its way across the dark waters. Slowly, slowly it
+      lifted and rested on the big blunt bows of the <i>Narcissus</i>, hovered
+      there a few seconds and came slowly aft, and as it lighted up the main
+      deck Mr. Henckel rose from behind the hatch-coaming.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Deutschland uber Alles!</i>&rdquo; he yelled joyously&mdash;and rushed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Terence Reardon, having pounded his firemen into insensibility, had crept
+      down the port alleyway, and, unknown to Captain Murphy and Mr. Henckel, he
+      had, from the opposite side of the deck, watched the flashes of their
+      pistols as they fired at each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll have to flank that fella an' put a shtop to this nonsense,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Reardon decided presently, and forthwith crept across the deck on his
+      hands and knees until he reached the hatch-coaming. Mr. Henckel lurked
+      just round the other corner of the coaming, so close Mr. Reardon could
+      hear him breathing. And there the crafty chief had waited until Mr.
+      Henckel rose for his charge&mdash;whereupon Mr. Reardon rose also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ireland upper always, ye vagabone!&rdquo; he yelled, and launched himself at
+      Mr. Henckel's knees. It was a perfect tackle and the second mate went down
+      heavily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In an emergency such as the present all Terence Reardon asked was good
+      fighting light. Fighting in the dark distressed him, he discovered, for
+      while polishing off the fireman in the black alleyway he had missed one
+      punch at the fellow's head, and had been reminded to his sorrow and the
+      ruin of his knuckles, that the deck of the Narcissus was of good Norway
+      pine. However, H.M.S. Panther was scarcely three cable lengths distant
+      now, and the officer on her flying bridge could see that some sort of a
+      jolly row was in progress on the deck of the Narcissus; so he kept the
+      searchlight on the combatants while Mr. Reardon bent Mr. Henckel's back
+      over the hatch-coaming, took his automatic away from him, and proceeded to
+      take a cast of the mate's features in the vulcanite butt of the weapon.
+      And vulcanite is far from soft!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Terence Reardon had completed his self-appointed task he stood up,
+      hitched his dungarees, spat blood on the deck, and stood waving from side
+      to side like a dancing bear. His face was unrecognizable; his dungarees,
+      so neat and clean when he donned them the night before, were now one vast
+      smear of red, and he grinned horribly, for he was war mad!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Next!&rdquo; he croaked, and turned to the master for orders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Michael Joseph Murphy was out of the fight. He lay prone on the deck,
+      conscious but helpless, and because his broken rib was tickling his lung
+      the froth on his lips bore a little tinge of pink. Only his eyes moved&mdash;and
+      they smiled at Terence Reardon as the triumphant exiles of Erin faced each
+      other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Terence Reardon turned and shook his battered fists full into the rays of
+      the searchlight. He was magnificent for one brief instant; then the
+      war-madness left him, and again he was plain, faithful, whimsical,
+      capable, honest Terence P. Reardon, chief engineer of the S.S. Narcissus,
+      who considered it a pleasure to discourse on the fairies when he had
+      nothing more important to do. Now that the fight was over and the German
+      fleet had overhauled them at last, he had time to think of Mrs. Reardon
+      and the children and his best job gone for ever&mdash;tossed into the
+      discard with his honor as a faithful servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sat down very suddenly on the hatch-coaming and covered his terrible
+      face with his terrible hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Norah! Norah!&rdquo; he cried&mdash;and sobbed as if his heart must break.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      When Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara, of H.M.S. Panther, boarded the
+      steamer Narcissus via the Jacob's ladder Mr. Reardon hove overside at his
+      command, he paused a moment, balanced on the ship's rail, and stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My word!&rdquo; he said, and leaped to the deck, to make room for a
+      pink-and-white middy. The pink-and-white one stared and said &ldquo;My aunt!&rdquo;
+       Then he, too, leaped to the deck, and a stocky cockney blue-jacket poked
+      his nose over the rail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn my eyes!&rdquo; said this individual. &ldquo;'Ere's a bloomin' mess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is that person?&rdquo; Captain Desmond O'Hara demanded, pointing to the
+      semiconscious Mr. Henckel, who was moaning and saying things in his mother
+      tongue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; said Mr. Reardon with a familiar wink, &ldquo;was a fine, decent German
+      until I operated on him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I observed. And who might you be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me name is Terence P. Reardon, an' I'm the chief engineer av the United
+      Shtates steamer <i>Narcissus</i>, av San Francisco.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! An Irish-American, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon looked down at the deck, smiled a cunning little smile and
+      looked up at Captain O'Hara. &ldquo;Well, sor,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;I had me hyphen
+      wit' me whin I shipped; as late as yestherd'y afthernoon 'twas in good
+      worrkin' ordher; but what wit' the exertion av chasin' our Gerrman crew
+      round the decks, faith I've lost me hyphen, an' I'm thinkin' the skipper's
+      lost his too. That's him forninst ye. For the prisent he's in dhrydock
+      awaitin' repairs, which leaves me in command av the ship. And since he's
+      in no condition to go to his shtate-room an' unlock the ship's safe, an'
+      sorra wan av me knows the combination, the divil a look will ye have at
+      our papers. I'll save time an' throuble for us all be tellin' ye now that
+      we've ten t'ousand tons av soft coal undher deck, that we cleared from
+      Norfolk, Virginia, for Manila or Batavia, Pernambuco for ordhers, an' that
+      we're a couple av t'ousand miles off our course. So confiscate the ship
+      an' be damned to ye! Only I'm hopin' ye'll not be above takin' a bit av
+      advice from wan who knows. There's a Gerrman fleet not far off, an' if ye
+      shtop to monkey wit' us, faith ye may live to regret it&mdash;an' ye may
+      not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara smiled sweetly. &ldquo;Divil a fear,&rdquo; he said,
+      in no way cast down. &ldquo;We met the beggars off the Falklands yesterday and
+      sunk them all but the Dresden. She slipped away from us in the dark,
+      making for the mainland, and we were looking for her when we saw your
+      searchlight cutting up such queer didos, so the Panther dropped behind to
+      investigate. Had it not been for your searchlight we would have missed
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' be the same token a little dead Englishman signalled ye.&rdquo; Mr. Reardon
+      gave another hitch to his dungarees. &ldquo;Sor,&rdquo; he said doggedly, &ldquo;I never
+      t'ought I'd live to see the day I'd want to cheer a British victh'ry&mdash;but
+      I do.&rdquo; He glanced down at his right hand and shook his head. &ldquo;Englishmen
+      that ye are,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;I'll not offer ye a hand like that&mdash;much
+      as I want to shake hands wit' ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, don't let that worry you, Mr. Reardon. I'm not an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the divil's name, you're not an&mdash;an&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm an Irishman! My name is Desmond O'Hara.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon was fully aware that here was a grand specimen of the kind of
+      Irish he had been taught to despise&mdash;the Irish that take the king's
+      shilling, the gentlemen Irish that lead the king's cockneys into battle.
+      And yet, strange to say, no thought of that entered his head now. He
+      stepped up to Captain O'Hara, looked round cautiously as if expecting to
+      be overheard, winked knowingly and whispered, as he jerked a significant
+      thumb toward the unhappy Mr. Henckel: &ldquo;Sure 'tis the likes av us that can
+      take the measure av the likes av thim.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; replied Captain O'Hara, and reached for Terry Reardon's awful
+      hand. &ldquo;It is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Together they lifted Michael J. Murphy into a boson's chair, the jackies
+      unslung a cargo derrick, Mr. Reardon went to the winch, and the skipper
+      was hoisted overside into the <i>Panther's</i> boat and taken aboard the
+      warship for medical attention. Just before Mr. Reardon hoisted him he drew
+      the chief's ear down to his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About von Staden,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;I thought I wanted to see him hung.
+      Legally he's a pirate; but, Terence, he was raised wrong; you know,
+      Terence&mdash;<i>Deutschland ueber Alles</i>. These Dutch devils thought
+      it was all right to steal our ship&mdash;national necessity, you know. Let
+      von Staden out of the mate's store-room and tell him the English have us&mdash;that
+      his fleet is gone. Then turn your back on him, Terence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon followed orders. &ldquo;Captain Murphy ordhered me to let ye out,&rdquo;
+       he explained to the supercargo, &ldquo;an' towld me to turrn me back on ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please thank him for me,&rdquo; von Staden replied gently. &ldquo;I scarcely expected
+      such kindness at his hands. You may turn your back now, Mr. Reardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Mr. Reardon turned his back, and, despite the rush of the British
+      jackies to stop him, Herr August Carl von Staden reached the rail. &ldquo;<i>Deutschland
+      ueber Alles!</i>&rdquo; he shouted defiantly&mdash;and jumped. He did not come
+      up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara removed his cap. &ldquo;They die so infernally
+      well,&rdquo; he said presently, &ldquo;one hates to fight them&mdash;individually.
+      Yesterday the <i>Nuernberg</i> fell to us. We outranged her, and when she
+      was out of action and sinking, with her men swimming and drowning all
+      round her, the <i>Panther</i> was stripped of life preservers in two
+      minutes. Some of my lads went overboard to help the Boche.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reardon remembered he had wrapped waste round the head of his monkey
+      wrench and curtailed his indicated horse-power when tapping individuals;
+      yet, when he fought them in bulk, with what savage joy had he struck down
+      Mr. Uhl, a poor, inoffensive devil and the victim of a false ideal of
+      national honor! Mr. Reardon was quite sure he despised Englishmen; yet the
+      tears came to his eyes when the jackies carried poor little Riggins away
+      from the searchlight, and he prayed for eternal rest for the soul of his
+      late assistants, for he had learned in a night, as he fought with tooth
+      and fist and monkey wrench, what those who fight with tongue and
+      typewriter will never learn&mdash;that racial and religious animosities
+      are just a pitiful human bugaboo&mdash;in bulk. Only that valiant minority
+      that sheds its blood for the heartless majority can ever know this great
+      truth&mdash;and the pity of it&mdash;that warriors never hate each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They are too generous for that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Capt. Matt Peasley, with his heart in his throat, called up the British
+      consul at San Francisco. Cappy Ricks, looking very pale and unhappy,
+      sagged in his chair, while Mr. Skinner stood by, gnawing his nails and
+      looking as if he would relish being kicked from one end of California
+      Street to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo!&rdquo; Matt Peasley began. Cappy Ricks shuddered and closed his eyes.
+      &ldquo;Is this the British consul's office?... This is Captain Peasley, of the
+      Blue Star Navigation Company... Yes... About our steamer <i>Narcissus</i>...
+      You say the consul is on his way down to our office... Thank you...
+      Goodbye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks sighed like an old air-compressor. &ldquo;I hope I live till he gets
+      here,&rdquo; he declared feebly. &ldquo;Deliberate race, the British. No pep. Never
+      get anywhere in a hurry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As if to give the lie to Cappy's criticisms, the British consul was
+      admitted at that moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; he announced as the heart-broken trio gathered round him, &ldquo;I
+      have some very grave news for you.&rdquo; His voice was vaguely reminiscent of
+      that of the foreman in a quarry who calls upon a lady to inform her that
+      her husband has just been caught in a premature blast and that the boys
+      will be up with the pieces directly. &ldquo;Your steamer <i>Narcissus</i>,
+      loaded with ten thousand tons of coal, has been captured a hundred miles
+      north-east of the Falkland Islands by His Majesty's cruiser <i>Panther</i>.
+      In view of your vessel's clearance&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A low moan broke from Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tightwad!&rdquo; he reviled. &ldquo;Old Alden P. Tightwad, the prince of misers! He
+      thought he'd add a couple of ten-dollar bills to his roll, so he
+      encouraged his skipper to hire a lot of interned Germans to work his ships
+      in neutral trade! He was penny-wise and pound-foolish, so he cut out the
+      wireless to save a miserable hundred and forty dollars a month. Bids are
+      invited for the privilege of killing the damned old fool&mdash;Skinner!
+      What are you looking at?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-n-nothing!&rdquo; stammered Mr. Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't be looked at that way, Skinner. I have my faults, I know&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ssshh!&rdquo; Matt Peasley interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I won't be 'sshh-ed' at either. I lost the ship. I admit it. I O.K.'d
+      the charter, and Murphy did his best to save her for us and couldn't. I'm
+      the goat, but if it busts me I'll reimburse you two boys for every cent
+      you have lost through my carelessness&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; the consul interrupted. &ldquo;Pray permit me to
+      proceed. The circumstances attending this case are so very unusual&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Mister British Consul, I shall not argue the matter with you.
+      You're too bally deliberate, and, besides, what's the use? The ship is
+      gone. Let her go. We'll build another twice as big. Of course I could give
+      you an excuse, but if I did you'd think I was old Nick Carter come to
+      life. We'll just have to take it up through our State Department, present
+      our alibi, and try to win her back in the prize court.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will never be sent to a prize court, Mr. Ricks. It doesn't require a
+      prize court to decide the case of the steamer <i>Narcissus</i>. The
+      evidence is too overwhelming. There could not possibly be a reversal of
+      the decision of our admiral.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner sat down suddenly to keep from falling down. The consul
+      continued: &ldquo;The commander of the <i>Panther</i>, Captain Desmond O'Hara&mdash;by
+      the way, an old schoolmate of mine&mdash;has sent me a long private report
+      on the affair; by wireless, of course, and in code. It appears that in
+      Pernambuco harbor your German crew overpowered the captain&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; cried Cappy, Matt and Skinner in chorus. &ldquo;You admit that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We do, Mr. Ricks. And last night your chief engineer, Mr. Terence
+      Reardon, with the aid of the steward, one Riggins&mdash;a British subject
+      and unfortunately killed in the affray&mdash;and Captain Murphy
+      overpowered the German crew&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Ricks!&rdquo; gasped Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Matt!&rdquo; shrilled Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Cappy!&rdquo; yelled Matt Peasley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nonsense,&rdquo; laughed the British consul. &ldquo;They stole her back,
+      gentlemen, and when Captain O'Hara found her rolling helplessly and
+      boarded her, she was a shambles. Dead men tell no tales, Mr. Ricks&mdash;yet
+      it was impossible for any fair-minded man to doubt the testimony of the
+      dead men aboard your <i>Narcissus</i>! Her killed, wounded and prisoners
+      formed a perfect alibi. In the meantime, Mr. Reardon and Captain Murphy
+      are aboard the Panther, receiving medical attention, and will be returned
+      to duty in a few weeks; the <i>Narcissus</i> is proceeding to meet the
+      other ships of our fleet. She will coal them at sea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you've confiscated her cargo?&rdquo; Matt Peasley demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We should worry about the cargo if they give us back our vessel,&rdquo; Cappy
+      Ricks declared happily. &ldquo;We haven't received our freight money, of course,
+      but by the time I get through with the charterers they'll pay the freight
+      and ask no questions about the coal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We confiscated it, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; the British consul continued, &ldquo;for the
+      reason that it was German coal. The supercargo who boarded the vessel at
+      Pernambuco told your captain his people had paid cash for it to the
+      charterers. But we're going to give you back your vessel because we
+      haven't any moral right to keep her, since her owners have committed no
+      breach of international law. The supercargo left fifteen thousand dollars
+      behind him when he jumped overboard, but Captain O'Hara declined to
+      confiscate that. At Captain Murphy's suggestion it will be forwarded to
+      the widow of the man Riggins. Captain O'Hara especially requested that I
+      call upon you and inform you that you have two of the finest Irishmen in
+      the world to thank for your ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Mister Consul. By the way, can you reach Captain O'Hara by
+      wireless? If you can, I should be glad to pay for a message if you will
+      send it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be delighted indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then tell him the Blue Star Navigation Company thanks him for the
+      courtesy of his message, but that it does not agree with his statement
+      that we have two Irishmen to thank for our ship. We think we have three! I
+      know the Irish. The scoundrels never go back on each other in a fight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The consul laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; he said, as he took up his hat preparatory to leaving, &ldquo;your
+      ship is now equipped with wireless&mdash;a fine, powerful plant such as
+      they use in the German Navy. The supercargo brought it aboard at
+      Pernambuco.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley, the Yankee, came to life at that. &ldquo;Has that been
+      confiscated, too?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, captain. However, we have confiscated that German crew of yours&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hallelujah!&rdquo; yelled Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;and loaned you a crew of British seamen from the tramp <i>Surrey
+      Maid</i>. The <i>Scharnhorst</i> torpedoed her off the coast of Chile, and
+      we found her crew on board one of the German transports when we captured
+      them after the fleet was destroyed. You're all fixed up, from skipper to
+      cabin boy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wireless operator, too?&rdquo; Matt Peasley cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The consul nodded. &ldquo;He's got a steady job,&rdquo; the youthful president
+      declared, and turned to Cappy Ricks for confirmation of this edict. But
+      Cappy, the pious old codger, had bowed his head on his breast and they
+      heard him mutter:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O Lord, I thank Thee! All unworthy as I am, Lord, thou loadest me with
+      favors&mdash;including a wireless plant, free gratis!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Long after the British consul had departed Cappy Ricks sat alone in his
+      office, dozing. Presently he roused and rang for Mr. Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;Matt reports that the late Riggins made an allotment
+      of his wages to his wife when he shipped aboard the <i>Narcissus</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Riggins's wages hereafter shall constitute a charge against the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      while Mrs. Riggins lives and while the Blue Star Navigation Company can
+      afford to give up seventy dollars every month. Attend to it, Skinner.
+      Another thing, Skinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We ought to do something for Murphy and Reardon. Now then, Skinner,
+      you've never had a chance to be a sport heretofore, but you're a
+      stockholder in the Blue Star Navigation Company now, and as such I feel
+      that I should not use my position, as owner of a controlling interest in
+      the stock of the company, to give away the property of the company in an
+      arbitrary fashion. So I'm going to leave it up to you, Skinner, to suggest
+      what we shall do for them. I believe you will agree with me that we should
+      do something very handsome by those two boys.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite so, sir, quite so. Well, to start off with, Mr. Ricks, I think we
+      ought to pay their hospital bills, if any. Then I think we ought to give
+      each of them a handsome gold watch, suitably engraved and with a small
+      blue star&mdash;sapphires, you know&mdash;set in the front of the case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You feel that would about fill the bill, eh, Skinner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, next Christmas I think we ought to give them each a month's
+      salary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum! You do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. I think that would be a very delicate thing to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy sighed. Poor Skinner! Victim of the saving habit! Decent devil&mdash;didn't
+      mean to be small, but just couldn't help it. A bush-leaguer&mdash;Skinner.
+      Never meant for big company&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In addition&mdash;&rdquo; Skinner began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Skinner, my boy. Go on, go on, old horse. Now then, in addition&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems like the wildest extravagance, Mr. Ricks, but those men have
+      fought for their ship and I&mdash;remember, Mr. Ricks, this is only a
+      suggestion&mdash;I think it would be a very&mdash;er&mdash;tactful thing
+      to do to&mdash;er&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It'll choke him before he gets it out,&rdquo; Cappy soliloquized. Aloud he
+      said: &ldquo;Go on, Skinner, my dear boy. Don't be afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At a time like this, when freights are so good and vessel property pays
+      so well, it seems to me&mdash;that is, if you and Matt have no objection&mdash;that
+      we ought to give Mike and Terence a&mdash;er&mdash;a little piece of the
+      <i>Narcissus</i>&mdash;the ship&mdash;er&mdash;they love&mdash;say&mdash;er&mdash;a&mdash;ten-thousand-dollar
+      interest&mdash;each&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you, Skinner! You came through at last, didn't you? The
+      president emeritus agrees with you, Skinner, and it is so ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now skip along and wireless the glad news to Mike and Terence. Tell them
+      when they have the coal out to proceed to Rio and load manganese ore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In due course Captain Michael J. Murphy and Mr. Terence Reardon came off
+      the dry dock, the sole visible evidence of that unrecorded second naval
+      engagement off the Falkland Islands being a slight list to starboard on
+      the part of the Reardon nose, and a notch in Murphy's right ear. Mr.
+      Skinner had had a local jeweler prepare the presentation watches against
+      the day of the home-coming of the warriors of the Blue Star, and on a
+      Saturday night Cappy gave a banquet to Mike and Terence, and every
+      employee of the Ricks' interests who could possibly attend, was present to
+      do the doughty pair honor and cheer when the awards for valor were duly
+      made by Cappy and congratulatory speeches made by Mr. Skinner and Matt
+      Peasley. It was such a gala occasion that Cappy drank three cocktails,
+      battened down by a glass or two of champagne, and as a result was ill for
+      two days thereafter. When he recovered, he announced sadly and solemnly
+      that he was about to retire&mdash;forever; that nothing of a business
+      nature should ever be permitted to drag him back into the harness again.
+      Then he bade all of his employees a touching farewell, packed his golf
+      clubs, and disappeared in the general direction of Southern California. He
+      was away so long that eventually even the skeptical Mr. Skinner commenced
+      to wonder if, perchance, the age of miracles had not yet passed and Cappy
+      had really retired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Alas! On the morning of December 24th, Cappy suddenly appeared at the
+      office, his kindly old countenance aglow like a sunrise on the Alps.
+      Immediately he cited Mr. Skinner to appear with the payrolls of all of the
+      Ricks enterprises and show what cause, if any, existed, why there should
+      not be a general whooping up of salaries to the deserving all along the
+      line. The Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company had already declared a
+      Christmas dividend; the accounts of every ship in the Blue Star fleet had
+      been made up to date and a special Christmas dividend declared, and, in
+      accordance with ancient custom, Cappy had appeared to devote one day in
+      the year to actual labor. Christmas dividend checks and checks covering
+      Christmas presents to his employees were always signed by him; it was his
+      way of letting the recipients know that, although retired, he still kept a
+      wary eye on his affairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had writer's cramp by the time he finished, but while the spending
+      frenzy was on him he would take no rest; so he seized a pencil and, while
+      Mr. Skinner called off the names of the deserving and the length of time
+      each had spent in the Ricks service, Cappy scrawled a five, a ten or a
+      twenty beside each name. Thus, in time, they came to the first name on the
+      Blue Star pay roll.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matthew Peasley, president; salary, ten thousand dollars a year; length
+      of service, four months,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner intoned. &ldquo;How about a raise for
+      Captain Matt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy laid down his pencil and looked at Skinner over the rims of his
+      spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner,&rdquo; he said gravely, &ldquo;you're only drawing twelve thousand a year,
+      and you've been with me twenty-five years! And here I'm giving this boy
+      Matt ten thousand a year and he's been on the pay roll only four months.
+      Why, it isn't fair!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remember, he was three years in the Blue Star ships that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't consider that at all when raising salaries. The salaries of ship's
+      officers are fixed and immutable anyhow, and when considering raises for
+      my employees. I can take into consideration only the length of time
+      they've been directly under my eye. Cut Matt's salary to five thousand a
+      year and let him grow up with the business. His dividends from his Ricks
+      L. &amp; L. and Blue Star stock will keep him going, and he hasn't any
+      household bills to keep up. He and Florry live with me, and I'm the goat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear Matt will not take kindly to that program, Mr. Ricks&mdash;particularly
+      at this time, when every ship in the offshore fleet is paying for herself
+      every voyage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; Cappy demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner replied hesitatingly, &ldquo;perhaps I have no business to
+      tell you this, because the knowledge came to me quite by accident; but the
+      fact of the matter is, Matt is going to build himself an auxiliary
+      schooner&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good news!&rdquo; Cappy piped. &ldquo;That's the ticket for soup! An auxiliary
+      schooner with semi-Diesel engines, four masts and about a million-foot
+      lumber capacity would be a mighty good investment right now. Every yard in
+      the country that builds steel vessels is filled up with orders, but our
+      coast shipyards can turn out wooden vessels in a hurry; and, with
+      auxiliary power, they'll pay five hundred per cent on their cost before
+      this flurry in shipping, due to the war, is over. I don't care, Skinner&mdash;provided
+      he builds a ship that's big enough to go foreign&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this isn't that kind,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No other kind will do, Skinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is to be a schooner yacht&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A what!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A yacht&mdash;eighty-five feet over all&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eighty-five grandmothers! Why, what the devil does that boy want of a
+      yacht? How much money does he intend to put into her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know, Mr. Ricks; but we can be reasonably certain of one thing;
+      Matt Peasley will not build a cheap boat. She'll have a lot of gewgaws and
+      gadgets, teak rail, mahogany joiner-work&mdash;at the very least, she'll
+      cost him thirty thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner,&rdquo; Cappy declared solemnly, &ldquo;he might as well put the money in a
+      sack, go down to Clay Street Wharf and throw the money overboard! The
+      other night I saw a couple of soldiers having a pleasant time in a
+      shooting gallery, but what the president of the Blue Star Navigation
+      Company wants with a thirty-thousand-dollar yacht beats my time. Why, he
+      has more than thirty good vessels to play with all week, and yet he wants
+      a yacht for Sunday! Skinner, my dear boy, that is wild, wanton
+      extravagance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I dare say Matt thinks he can afford the extravagance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, no man can afford it. Extravagance may reach a point where it
+      becomes sinful. And I say it's a crime to put thirty thousand dollars into
+      a yacht when the same thirty thousand, invested in a good vessel, will
+      yield such tremendous returns. Skinner, my boy, how did you find out about
+      this yacht nonsense?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was looking through Matt's desk for a letter I had given him to read,
+      and I ran across the plans. Thinking they were Blue Star plans, I looked
+      them over; there was a letter from the naval architect attached&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy threw down his pencil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,&rdquo; he cried in deep disgust, &ldquo;I thought I
+      was going to have a Merry Christmas&mdash;and now it's spoiled! Good Lord,
+      Skinner! To think of a man throwing away thirty thousand dollars, not to
+      mention the upkeep and interest after he's thrown it away&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've just this very day thrown away about thirty thousand dollars you
+      didn't have to,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner reminded him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do have to. I've got to keep all my boys happy and satisfied and up on
+      their toes, or what the devil would happen to us? They're my partners when
+      all is said and done, and how am I going to face my Maker if I don't give
+      my partners a square deal? There's a vast difference between justice and
+      extravagance. Skinner, you don't suppose Matt's like every other shellback
+      of a skipper? Why, he's only twenty-five years old; and if he's got the
+      blue-water fever again, after a year ashore, there'll be no standing him
+      at thirty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he's got it, sir,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner opined firmly. &ldquo;Did you ever see an
+      old sailing skipper that didn't get it? You remember Burns, who had the <i>Sweet
+      Alferetta</i>? His father died and left him a million dollars, and five
+      years later he came sneaking in here one day, told you he was tired
+      clipping coupons and that if you wanted to save his life you'd give him
+      back the <i>Sweet Alferetta</i> and a hundred dollars a month to skipper
+      her! He sold his interest to his successor for two thousand dollars when
+      he fell into the fortune&mdash;and five years later he bought it back for
+      three thousand, just so he could have a job again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; Cappy admitted; &ldquo;they all get the blue-water fever&mdash;after
+      they've left blue water. I never knew a sailor yet who wouldn't tell you
+      sailoring was a dog's life; but I never knew one who quit and quite
+      recovered from the hankering to go back. I think you're right, Skinner.
+      This yacht is just a symptom of Matt's disease. He realizes his business
+      interests tie him to the beach; but if he has a sailing yacht that he can
+      fuss round with on week-ends in the bay, and once in a while make a little
+      cruise to Puget Sound or the Gulf of Lower California, he figures he'll
+      manage to survive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speaking of yachts,&rdquo; Cappy continued, &ldquo;the case of old Cap'n Cliff Ashley
+      suggests a cure for this boy Matt. Cap'n Cliff was a Gloucester fisherman,
+      with the smartest little schooner that ever came home from the Grand Banks
+      with halibut up to her hatches. He couldn't read or write and he'd never
+      learned navigation; but he'd been born with the instincts of a homing
+      pigeon, and somehow whenever he pointed his schooner toward Gloucester he
+      managed to arrive on schedule; and any time he got a good fair breeze from
+      the west, like as not he'd run over to England and sell his catch there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like most of his breed, Cap'n Cliff had to have a fast boat; he had to
+      keep her as immaculate as a yacht in order to be happy, and he was never
+      so happy as when he'd meet a squadron of the New York Yacht Club out on a
+      cruise and sail circles round the flagship with his little old knockabout
+      fish schooner. On such occasions old Cap'n Cliff would break out a long
+      red burgee with M.O.B.Y.C. in white letters on it. On one of his trips to
+      England he hooked up with a big schooner wearing the ensign of the Royal
+      Yacht Club and dassed 'em to race with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, it happened that the late King Edward was aboard his yacht
+      that day, and you know what a sport he was in his palmy days. Cap'n Cliff
+      cracked on everything he had in the way of plain sail and, after holding
+      the King even for a couple of hours, he put his packet under gaff topsails
+      and fisherman's staysail and broke out the balloon jib, bade Edward
+      good-bye in the International Code&mdash;and flew! About six hours after
+      Cap'n Cliff came to anchor, the King loafed up in his yacht, dropped
+      anchor, cleared away his launch, and came over to visit Cap'n Cliff and
+      shake hands with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'My dear sir,' says Edward, pointing aloft to the red burgee with
+      M.O.B.Y.C. on it, 'pray to what yacht club do you belong?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'My own bloomin' yacht club, your majesty,' says Cap'n Cliff; and if he
+      hadn't been a Yankee fisherman the King would have knighted him on the
+      spot!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that remark, Skinner, my dear boy, clears the atmosphere in the case
+      of our own dear Matthew. He shall have his own blooming yacht club, only
+      his yacht shall carry cargo and pay her way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean I'm going to send him to sea for one voyage, once a year, which
+      will break up that blue-water fever and save Matt thirty thousand dollars
+      as an initial investment, and about ten thousand a year upkeep and
+      interest. All that boy needs to cure him, Skinner, is the old <i>Retriever</i>,
+      totally surrounded by horizon and smelling of a combination of tarred
+      rope, turpentine, wet canvas, fresh paint, green lumber and the stink of
+      the bilge water. Lordy me, Skinner, it puts them to sleep and they wake up
+      feeling perfectly bully! Where's the <i>Retriever</i> now, Skinner, and
+      who is in charge of her destinies?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's due on Puget Sound from the West Coast. Captain Lib Curtis has
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good news! Well, now, Skinner, you listen to me: The minute he reports
+      his arrival you wire Lib to put the old harridan on dry dock and slick her
+      up until she looks like four aces and a king, with everybody in the game
+      standing pat. Can't have any whiskers on her bottom when Matt takes her
+      out, Skinner, because if the boy's to enjoy himself she's got to be able
+      to show a clean pair of heels. Then write Lib to wire his resignation and
+      give any old reason for it. Have him resign just before the vessel is
+      loaded and ready for sea, and tell him to insist on being relieved
+      immediately. Of course, Skinner, Matt will get busy right away, looking
+      for the right skipper to relieve Captain Curtis&mdash;and about that time
+      the president emeritus will shove in his oar and ball things up. Every
+      doggoned skipper Matt recommends for the job is going to have his
+      application vetoed by Alden P. Ricks, and&mdash;er&mdash;ahem!
+      Harumph-h-h!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you stick by me, Skinner. Follow all my leads and don't trump any of
+      my aces; and just about the time Matt begins to get good and mad at my
+      doggoned interference&mdash;you know, Skinner, my boy, I'm only a
+      figurehead&mdash;you cut in and say: 'Well, for heaven's sake! You two
+      still squabbling over a skipper for the <i>Retriever?</i> Matt, why don't
+      you save the demurrage and take her out yourself&mdash;eh?'&rdquo; And Cappy
+      winked knowingly and prodded his general manager in the ribs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess that plan's kind of poor&mdash;eh, Skinner? I guess it won't work&mdash;eh?
+      Particularly when I come right back and say: 'Well, he might as well, for
+      all the use he is round this office. Here I go to work and appoint him
+      president of the Blue Star and he won't stay in the office and'tend to the
+      president's business. Yes, sir! Leaves all that to you and me, Skinner,
+      while he degrades himself doing the work of a port captain.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All of which is quite true, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner affirmed. &ldquo;He will
+      not stay in the office&mdash;and he's getting worse. Two-thirds of his
+      time is spent round the docks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, two-thirds of his time in 1915 will not be spent round the docks,
+      Skinner. Play that bet to win! We're going to have a busy old year in the
+      shipping game in 1915, and a busier one in 1916 if that war in Europe
+      isn't over by then. A voyage in the <i>Retriever</i> will fix the boy up,
+      Skinner, and he'll stick round the office and put over some real business.
+      Yachts! Hah! What does a business man want of a yacht?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You overlooked one very important detail, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; Skinner ventured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I overlook nothing, Skinner&mdash;nothing. His wife shall accompany him
+      on the voyage. I shall implant the idea in her head, beginning this very
+      night as soon as I get home. I'll just tell her she isn't and never will
+      be a true sailor's true love until she takes a voyage with her husband.
+      Romantic girl, Florry! She'll about eat that suggestion, feathers and all,
+      Skinner. She'll do the real work for us. Always remember, my boy, that an
+      ounce of promotion is worth enough perspiration to float the <i>Narcissus</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what shall we do for a port captain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've ordered Mike Murphy&mdash;via Matt, of course&mdash;to take a
+      vacation under full salary and recover from the wounds he received
+      walloping that German crew on the <i>Narcissus</i>. About the time Matt
+      leaves in the <i>Retriever</i>, Mike will be ready to go to work again or
+      commit murder if we don't give it to him; so we'll slip him a temporary
+      appointment as port captain. I'm going to make it permanent some day,
+      anyhow. I suppose you've noticed that Mike Murphy has a crush on your
+      stenographer; and I don't see how he's going to put anything over if he
+      never gets a chance to see the girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I really hadn't noticed it, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it was a ten-cent piece you'd notice it,&rdquo; Cappy retorted. &ldquo;And now
+      that matter is settled, how about this port steward? Is he a grafter? If
+      not, raise him five dollars a month. He's been with us only a year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Late that afternoon, after Cappy had made the rounds of his office,
+      distributing his checks and wishing all hands the merriest of Christmases,
+      he paused at last at Mr. Skinner's desk and laid a thousand-dollar check
+      thereon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a peep out of you, Skinner&mdash;not a peep!&rdquo; he cautioned his
+      general manager. &ldquo;No thanks due me. You've earned it a thousand times over&mdash;and
+      then some. Hum-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! By the way, Skinner, my dear boy, I
+      forgot to mention to you another little idea that's in the back of my
+      head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean about sending Matt to sea for a voyage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. The sea is a wonderful institution, Skinner&mdash;wonderful! It
+      promotes health and strength; and&mdash;er&mdash;damn it, Skinner, my dear
+      boy, have you ever observed that there isn't a married skipper in our
+      employ that hasn't been lucky? Many well-known authorities prescribe a sea
+      voyage&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy thrust his thumb into Skinner's ribs, winked, bent low, and
+      whispered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too slow, Skinner; too slow. I'm getting old, you know&mdash;I can't wait
+      for ever. And if the experiment succeeds&mdash;Skinner, my dear boy,
+      you're next! You've been married more than a year now&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fail to comprehend&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grandson!&rdquo; Cappy whispered. &ldquo;Grandson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said Mr. Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One of the remarks most frequently heard on California Street was to the
+      effect that whenever Cappy Ricks girded up his loins and went after
+      something he generally got it. His scheme to get Matt Peasley to sea for
+      one voyage, accompanied by Florry, worked as smoothly as a piston; and on
+      the fifteenth of January the Peasleys went aboard the <i>Retriever</i> at
+      Bellingham and towed out, bound for Manila with a cargo of fir lumber.
+      Matt made the run down in sixty-six days, a smart passage, waited a week
+      in Manila Bay before he could secure a berth and commence discharging,
+      discharged in a week, loaded a cargo of hemp, with a deckload of hardwood
+      logs, and was ready for the return trip to San Francisco on April
+      twenty-fourth, on which day he towed out past Corregidor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His wife, however, was not with him on the return voyage. Following a
+      family conference, it was decided that Florry should return home on the
+      mail steamer&mdash;which action Cappy Ricks considered most significant
+      when Matt apprised him of it by cable, but failed to state a reason. The
+      president emeritus, immediately upon receipt of this information, trotted
+      into Mr. Skinner's office and laid Matt Peasley's cablegram on the
+      latter's desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he piped, rubbing his hands together the
+      while, &ldquo;what do you know about that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you&mdash;er&mdash;suspect&mdash;er&mdash;something, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suspect? Not a bit of it. I know! Neither Florry nor Matt would dream of
+      permitting the other to come home alone if there wasn't a third party to
+      be considered. Paste that in your hat, Skinner. It isn't done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy was right, for the same steamer that bore his daughter home carried
+      also a brief letter from his son-in-law conveying the tidings of great
+      joy. The old man was so happy he went into Mr. Skinner's office and struck
+      his general manager a terrible blow between the shoulders, after which he
+      declared it was a shame that his years and reputation for respectability
+      denied him the privilege of chartering a seagoing hack and painting the
+      town red!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The <i>Retriever</i> crept slowly up the China Sea on the first of the
+      southwest monsoon. At that period of the year, however, the monsoon is
+      weak and unsteady; and after clearing the northern end of Luzon the <i>Retriever</i>
+      kicked round in a belt of light and baffling airs for a week. Then the
+      monsoon freshened somewhat and the <i>Retriever</i> once more rolled
+      lazily away on her course, with young Matt Peasley humming chanteys on her
+      quarter-deck and pondering the mystery that confronts all mankind in their
+      first adventure in fatherhood. Would it be a boy or a girl? He was
+      expressing to himself for perhaps the thousandth time the hope that it
+      would be a boy, when from the poop he saw something he did not relish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the ship's cat coming across the deckload toward him, in his yellow
+      eyes a singularly pleased expression and in his mouth a singularly large
+      rat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley stepped below, found an old glove and drew it over his right
+      hand, after which he returned to the quarter-deck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Tommy!&rdquo; he called; and pussy came, to be seized by the tail and,
+      still holding fast to his prey, cast overboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's bad luck to do that to a black cat, sir,&rdquo; the mate informed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley's eyes were blazing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it's worse luck still for any mate aboard my ship who neglects to put
+      the rat-guards on the lines when the vessel is lying at the dock,&rdquo; he
+      growled. &ldquo;You lubberly idiot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I did put the rat-guards on the lines,&rdquo; the mate protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know you did; but I had to remind you of it,&rdquo; Matt replied. &ldquo;You
+      didn't get them on in time&mdash;and now the Lord only knows how many rats
+      we have aboard. Ordinarily I don't mind rats, but an Oriental rat is
+      something to be afraid of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because they carry the germs of bubonic plague, you farmer!&rdquo; And Matt
+      very carefully removed his glove and cast it overboard after the cat. &ldquo;And
+      it's a cold day when you can't find an occasional case of plague in the
+      Orient. The cat caught the rat and mauled it round; hence the cat had to
+      go, because I never permit in my cabin a cat that has been on intimate
+      terms with an Oriental rat. And now I bet I know what's wrong with that
+      fo'castle hand that went into the sick bay the day before yesterday. He
+      complained of swelling in the glands of his neck and groins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cook left the forward deckhouse and came aft over the deckload. At the
+      break of the poop he paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain Peasley,&rdquo; he announced, &ldquo;Lindstrom is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell everybody to keep away from him,&rdquo; Matt ordered. He turned to the
+      mate. &ldquo;Mr. Matson,&rdquo; he announced, &ldquo;the first duty of a murderer is to get
+      rid of the body. Go forward and throw Lindstrom's body overboard; then
+      stay forward. If you come aft until I send for you I'll blow your brains
+      out!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      When the <i>Retriever</i> was out from Manila seventy days Cappy Ricks
+      remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt would be breezing in most any day now.
+      On the eightieth day he remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt was coming home
+      a deal slower than he had gone out. The efficient Skinner, however, cited
+      so many instances of longer passages from Manila to San Francisco that
+      Cappy was comforted, although he was not convinced. &ldquo;You make me a
+      type-written list of all those vessels and their passages, Skinner,&rdquo; he
+      cautioned; &ldquo;and when you can't think of any more authentic cases fake up a
+      few. Florry's beginning to worry. She knows now what it means to be a
+      sailor's wife, and if that doggoned Matt doesn't report soon 111 know what
+      it means to be a sailor's father-in-law. I wish to Jimminy I hadn't sent
+      Matt out with the <i>Retriever.</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ninety days passed. Cappy commenced to fidget. A hundred days passed, and
+      Cappy visited the hydrographic office and spent a long time poring over
+      charts of the air currents in the China Sea, along the coast of Asia and
+      in the North Pacific.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he quavered when he returned to the office; &ldquo;I'm a
+      most unhappy old man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner forgot for an instant that he was a business man and, with a
+      sudden, impulsive movement, he put his long, thin arm round the old man
+      and squeezed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you didn't think so much of him, sir,&rdquo; he comforted Cappy, &ldquo;you'd
+      worry less. She really will not be overdue until she's out a hundred and
+      twenty days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner,&rdquo; Cappy piped wearily, &ldquo;don't try to deceive me. I've been in the
+      shipping game for forty-odd years, boy. I know it's about six thousand
+      miles from San Francisco to Manila, and if a vessel averages ninety miles
+      a day she's making a smart passage. Matt made it down in sixty-six days,
+      and he ought to come back in sixty, because he has fair winds all the way.
+      Skinner, the boy's a month overdue; and if he never shows up&mdash;if he
+      stays out much longer&mdash;Florry'll break her heart; and my grandson&mdash;think
+      of it, Skinner!&mdash;think of the prenatal effect on the child! Oh,
+      Skinner, my dear, dear boy, I want him big and light-hearted and
+      sunny-souled like Matt&mdash;and to think this is all my doing&mdash;my
+      own daughter! Oh! Oh, Skinner, my heart is breaking!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner fled to his own office and did something most un-Skinner-like.
+      He blinked away several large bright tears; and while he was blinking them
+      the telephone bell rang. Mechanically Mr. Skinner answered. It was Jerry
+      Dooley, in charge of the Merchants' Exchange.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Skinner,&rdquo; said Jerry, &ldquo;I've got some bad news for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The-the-<i>Retriever</i>&mdash;&rdquo; Skinner almost whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. I thought I'd tell you first, so you could break it to the old
+      man gently. The Grace liner <i>Ecudorian</i> arrived at Victoria this
+      morning and reports speaking the <i>Retriever</i> eight hundred miles off
+      the coast of Formosa. The vessel was under jib, lower topsail, foretopmast
+      staysail, mainsail and spanker. She was flying two flags&mdash;an inverted
+      ensign and the yellow quarantine flag. The <i>Ecudorian</i> steamed close
+      alongside of her, to windward. Captain Peasley was at the wheel&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank God!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner almost sobbed. &ldquo;What was wrong with her, Jerry?
+      Hurry up, man! Hurry up! Tell me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was alone on the ship, Mr. Skinner. Bubonic plague! Killed the entire
+      crew! Matt was the only man immune, and he's sailing the <i>Retriever</i>
+      home alone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner groaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good gracious Providence! Why didn't the <i>Ecudorian</i> take him off?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Credit them with offering it,&rdquo; Jerry replied. &ldquo;He wouldn't come. He
+      declined to jeopardize the people aboard the steamer and he wouldn't
+      abandon the <i>Retriever</i> with her full cargo; so what could they do?
+      They had to sail away without him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gently Mr. Skinner broke the news to Cappy Ricks; for, of course, the
+      United Press dispatches had carried it to the later afternoon editions and
+      it would be useless for Mr. Skinner to attempt to lie kindly. Cappy, with
+      bowed head, heard him through; when finally he looked up at Skinner his
+      eyes were dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite what I expected of him, Skinner,&rdquo; he said dully. &ldquo;And I'd rather
+      have him die than dog it! This report from the <i>Ecudorian</i> helps
+      some, Skinner. It will do to keep hope alive in my Florry&mdash;and every
+      two weeks until the boy is born we'll&mdash;we'll&mdash;Oh, Skinner&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir; I'll attend to it. Leave everything to me, Mr. Ricks. I'll have
+      wireless reports and telegrams and cablegrams from every port on earth
+      telling of ships having spoken the <i>Retriever</i>, with the skipper well
+      and hearty, and sending messages of good cheer to his wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you won't be&mdash;er&mdash;stingy, Skinner? You'll send out
+      the <i>Tillicum</i> to find him and tow him in, won't you? And you'll have
+      real telegrams&mdash;spend money, Skinner! I'll have to bring those
+      messages home to Florry&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything, Mr. Ricks. And I'll start right in by slipping fifty dollars
+      to each of the waterfront reporters on all the papers. They're good boys,
+      Mr. Ricks. I'll tell them why I have to have the service. Mrs. Peasley
+      must have our fake reports confirmed in the papers&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For work like that the marine reporters should have more money,&rdquo; Cappy
+      suggested wearily. His old hand reached out gropingly, closed over Mr.
+      Skinner's and held it a moment childishly. &ldquo;You're a very great comfort to
+      me, Skinner&mdash;very great indeed! And you'll come home with me
+      to-night, won't you, Skinner? I'm a little afraid&mdash;I want you near
+      me, Skinner&mdash;in case I can't get away with it to Florry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His dry, dead eyes studied the pattern in the office carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two mates, a cook and ten A. B.'s!&rdquo; he murmured presently. &ldquo;One man, even
+      a Matt Peasley, cannot do the work of thirteen men. No, Skinner; it isn't
+      done. One man simply cannot sail a barkentine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Skinner was not listening. He was on the long-distance phone
+      calling the master of the <i>Tillicum</i>, just about finishing discharge
+      of a cargo of nitrate at San Pedro. And presently Cappy heard him
+      speaking:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Ricks, listen! Grant, of the <i>Tillicum</i>, says Matt would go up
+      the China Sea on the southwest monsoon... Yes, captain. You say&mdash;ah,
+      yes; quite so... Grant says he'd edge over until he got into the Japan
+      Stream, and that would add a knot or two an hour to his speed... Yes,
+      Grant. Speak up! ... Grant says, Mr. Ricks, that about the middle of
+      September or the first of October Matt would run out of the southwest
+      monsoon into the northeast monsoon&mdash;that's it, Grant, isn't it? He'd
+      get them about off Formosa, eh?... Yes, Grant. Then he'd run into the
+      prevailing westerly winds and run north on a great circle about five
+      hundred miles below the Aleutian Islands&mdash;I see, Grant. All right!
+      Fill your oil tanks and take an extra supply on deck, head into the North
+      Pacific... Yes; use your own judgment, of course. Mine's no good... Yes;
+      and bring a lot of disinfectants and a doctor, so it'll be safe to put a
+      few men aboard when you find her and put your hawser on her ... Yes,
+      Grant. If you find her you'll not have reason to regret it. Good-bye! Good
+      luck!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;While the <i>Tillicum</i> is on this wild-goose chase, Skinner,&rdquo; Cappy
+      said wearily, &ldquo;she is chartered by the Blue Star Navigation Company to
+      Alden P. Ricks personally, at the prevailing rates. The stockholders
+      mustn't pay for my fancies, Skinner. You'll see to that, won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <i>Excerpt from the log of Captain Matt Peasley relief skipper of the
+      American barkentine Retriever; Manila to San Francisco.</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Third.&mdash;Seaman Olaf Lindstrom died to-day, following an illness
+      of thirty-six hours. He was taken with chills and fever on the morning of
+      the second, complained of a severe headache and vomited repeatedly.
+      Removed him from the forecastle to a spare room in the forward house,
+      which on the <i>Retriever</i> has always been used as a sick bay. While
+      being supported along the deck he collapsed, and when the mate undressed
+      him and put him to bed he complained of soreness in his groins. I examined
+      them and found them slightly swollen. Treated him for ague&mdash;calomel,
+      salts, quinine and whisky, and one-fortieth-grain strychnine hypodermic
+      solution to keep up his heart action when the fever registered one hundred
+      and four and higher. He grew steadily worse. Could not find anything in my
+      Home Book of Medicine that exactly described his symptoms, and was at a
+      loss to diagnose Lindstrom's case until I discovered the ship's cat with a
+      rat it had just killed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no rats aboard the <i>Retriever</i> when she left San
+      Francisco. I recalled that the first night we tied up to the dock in
+      Manila a dirty little China Coast tramp lay just ahead of us; and as I
+      passed her on my way uptown I saw a rat run down her gangplank. She had
+      rat-guards on her mooring lines. We had just tied up to the dock and I
+      returned immediately and instructed the mate to be sure to put the
+      rat-guards on our mooring lines, and not to use any sort of gangplank.
+      When I returned to the vessel later that night I found that the mate had
+      neglected to put on the rat-guards and logged him for it. Before we left
+      the dock a Chinaman died of bubonic plague aboard that tramp, and the port
+      health authorities put the vessel in quarantine immediately and prevented
+      further spread of the disease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When I saw the ship's cat with a rat, therefore, I knew we had some of
+      that rotten China Coaster's plague rats aboard. Accordingly threw cat and
+      rat overboard just as the cook announced Lindstrom's death. Upon looking
+      up the information on plague, I am now convinced we have it aboard&mdash;that
+      Linstrom died of it. First Mate Olaf Matson wrapped himself in my old
+      bathrobe, gloved his hands and threw Lindstrom's body overboard, following
+      it with the gloves and bathrobe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I am, in a measure, prepared for plague. When I learned we had lain close
+      to a vessel with a case of plague aboard I laid in some plague medicine,
+      on general principles and just to have an anchor out to windward. At the
+      English drug store on the Escolta I bought a tiny bottle of Yersin's
+      Antipest Serum and another of Haffkine's Prophylactic Fluid. It was all
+      they had on hand and it wasn't much; but&mdash;it is enough to save me&mdash;and
+      I intend to be saved if possible. I cannot afford to die now. I do not
+      know how old the Haffkine's Fluid is; and the older it is, the longer it
+      takes to render one immune. The antipest serum will render me immune
+      immediately, but the duration of the immunity thus granted lasts, at the
+      most, only fifteen days. I must, therefore, first take a hypodermic
+      injection of antipest serum to render me immune immediately and the next
+      day follow with an injection of Haffkine's Fluid, which gives permanent
+      immunity, but not for a week or longer when used alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There is this devilish thing about it to be considered, however: I may at
+      this moment be inoculated with plague, for the period of incubation is
+      from three to seven days&mdash;and I've fondled that cat every day since
+      we left Manila. If I am already infected and do not know it, and while in
+      that condition take an injection of the antipest serum, the book says the
+      serum will immediately bring on a fatal and virulent attack of the plague!
+      On the other hand, if I am not inoculated and take the antipest serum I am
+      safe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The question before the house, therefore, is: Shall I take it or shall I
+      not? And if I do take it shall I be saving my life or committing suicide?
+      I am like the fellow in the story who was forced to drink from one of two
+      glasses of wine. He knew one of them contained poison, but he didn't know
+      which one it was! I shall make my will and flip a coin to decide the
+      issue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Fourth.&mdash;Two a.m. Mate reports another sick man in the
+      forecastle. Wish I had some formaldehyde gas. Have told mate to sprinkle
+      chloride of lime in Lindstrom's bunk and to dust the walls and floors of
+      the forecastle and sick bay with it. That is the only disinfectant I have
+      aboard in quantity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At midnight I flipped the coin&mdash;heads I'd take it; tails I wouldn't.
+      The coin fell heads&mdash;and I took it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Four a.m.&mdash;Mustered the crew and gave them a lecture on bubonic
+      plague. I have sufficient antipest serum for four men. After explaining
+      that it was Hobson's choice, I asked the men to draw matches, held in the
+      hand of the first mate, to see who should be the lucky ones. They all
+      decided to take a chance and go without it, with the exception of two
+      seamen and the mates, who, learning that I had taken it, decided to follow
+      suit. Accordingly I inoculated them with the antipest serum.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Five p.m.&mdash;Inoculated myself with Haffkine's Fluid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seven-thirty.&mdash;Seaman Ross died. Mr. Matson threw the body overboard.
+      No services.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Midnight.&mdash;Mr. Matson is down with it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Fifth.&mdash;Mr. Matson very ill and delirious. Cook moping round like
+      a drunken man; complains of severe headache. Wind blowing lightly from
+      south-west. Everything set. Inoculated second mate and the two seamen with
+      Haffkine's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Sixth.&mdash;Mr. Matson died at noon today. Cook down with it; also
+      another seaman, and Mr. Eccles, the second mate. Have altered ship's
+      course and am running for Hongkong. Winds light and baffling. Have not
+      made thirty miles today. Calm at midnight. Mr. Eccles died just as the
+      watches were being changed. I now feel that I have escaped; so examined
+      Mr. Eccles' body. He went so fast I am curious. No swelling of the glands
+      at all. Am inclined to think his was pneumonic or septicaemic. Threw him
+      overboard myself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Seventh.&mdash;Light and baffling airs all day; monsoon blowing in
+      weak puffs. Another seaman ill. So ends this day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Eighth.&mdash;Cook died at noon. No buboes on him either. He turned
+      kind of black. I was chief undertaker. No airs to speak of. Ship barely
+      making steerage way. So ends this day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Ninth.&mdash;Seaman Peterson died early this morning. Do not know
+      exact hour. Found him dead in his berth. Another funeral; no services.
+      Monsoon freshening. Made forty-eight miles today. Two more seamen on sick
+      report; and, to add to my worries, they are the very two I inoculated with
+      the antipest serum and Haffkine's. Is this stuff worthless?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Tenth.&mdash;Seamen Halloran and Kaiser died within an hour of each
+      other this evening&mdash;Halloran at nine-thirty and Kaiser at
+      ten-eighteen. Put both bodies overboard immediately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I have four seamen left, and am doing the cooking, navigating, nursing and
+      undertaking. Wind freshening hourly. Made seventy-two miles today. Glad
+      Florry and Cappy Ricks cannot see me now, although, for some fool reason,
+      I have a notion I shall see them again. If I were going to get plague it
+      would have developed before now. I feel quite safe, but most unhappy and
+      worried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Midnight.&mdash;Seaman Anderson down with it. Jumped overboard to save me
+      the bother of throwing him overboard about the day after to-morrow, which
+      is a courtesy I did not expect of Anderson. I am obliged to him. I am
+      exhausted and so are my three remaining seamen. We cannot handle the
+      canvas now, so have taken in the foresail, royals, and topgallant sails,
+      hauled down the flying jib and got the gaff topsail off her, leaving her
+      under the jib, fore-topmast staysail, upper and lower fore-topsails,
+      main-topmast staysail, mainsail and spanker. Hove her to and turned in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Eleventh.&mdash;After a horrible breakfast, which I cooked, got under
+      way again. Monsoon blowing nicely, but under the small amount of canvas I
+      am forced to carry cannot make more than six miles an hour. Have decided
+      not to run to Hongkong. If I am to lose my three remaining seamen I shall
+      have lost them long before I sight land, and the tug or steamer that hooks
+      on to me off Hongkong will stick me with a terrific salvage bill. If I'm
+      going to be stuck I prefer to be stuck closer to home, and if I manage to
+      keep these three men the four of us can sail her home. I'll take a chance
+      and run up the coast of Asia with the Japan Stream until I reach the
+      northeast monsoon. I'm certain to be spoken and can send word to Florry.
+      In a pinch, at this season of the year, I can sail her home alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      May Fifteenth.&mdash;I am alone on the ship. Into the Japan Stream,
+      monsoon blowing the sweetest it ever blew. Lucky thing for me I had the
+      forethought to trim her down; otherwise I should have had to cut away a
+      lot of canvas. And how Cappy Ricks would scream at the sail bill later on!
+      We were hove to overnight when Borden and Jacobsen died, on the
+      thirteenth. McBain complained of a headache and vertigo on the morning of
+      the fourteenth; so I laid to until he died, last night. I was not with him
+      when he passed. What good would it have done? I had breakfast; and after
+      breakfast I found him in his berth, dead. I tossed him overboard, and
+      every last rag of clothing, dunnage and blankets aboard, with the
+      exception of those in my own cabin. Then I burned sulphur in the
+      fore-castle, the galley, the cook's room and the stateroom formerly
+      occupied by the mates, closed the doors, and hoped for the best. Slept a
+      lot that day and night; and at eight this morning slacked off my spanker
+      and main sheets, checked in my foreyard and topsail by taking the the
+      braces to the donkey engine, and was off for home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Have established my commissary in the lee of the wheel box. Set up a small
+      kerosene stove I found in the storeroom, and get along nicely. It is quite
+      an art to fry eggs with one hand and steady the wheel with the other, but
+      I managed it three times today. To-morrow I will cook enough at breakfast
+      to last me for luncheon and supper; hence will only have to heat some
+      coffee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Logged fifty-one miles by eight o'clock; then lashed the wheel and let her
+      take care of herself while I got steam up in the donkey and hauled in my
+      spanker and mainsail; then I slacked off my foreyard and topsail yards,
+      hove her to on the port tack, hung three red lights on the forestay to
+      show she wasn't under command, set my alarm clock and turned in. I have to
+      smile at the ease with which one man&mdash;provided he is a sizable man
+      and able to stand strain&mdash;can sail a barkentine before the wind in
+      fair weather. I am not worried. I am not going to have bubonic plague. It
+      is horribly lonely, but I am due for fair winds&mdash;and I should worry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even if I should get a blow and have to take the lower topsail off her, I
+      can lower the yard by the topsail halyards until it rests on the cap; then
+      I'll skip aloft and run a knife along the head of the topsail and let it
+      whip to glory. After that it may blow and be damned! All the clothes the
+      old girl is wearing now will never take the sticks out of her. I've
+      trimmed her down to jib, lower topsail, fore-topmast staysail, mainsail
+      and spanker. Wish I dared carry the foresail. However, I must play safe.
+      It is awful, though, to be in a ship as fast as the <i>Retriever</i> and
+      have to crawl the way I'm crawling. Crawl all day and sleep all night!
+      Well, sometimes I can crawl all day and night and sleep half a day. We
+      shall see. I used to be able to stand considerable before I hit the beach
+      and got soft. The necessity for firing the donkey every night would soon
+      exhaust my fuel supply; but I have a deck-load of hardwood logs!
+      {Illustration: (<i>Excerpt from the log of Cap't Matt Peasley</i>) &ldquo;I am
+      alone on the ship&mdash;all the rest are now dead&rdquo;&mdash;}
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Four months had passed since the <i>Ecudorian</i> had spoken Matt Peasley
+      off the coast of Formosa; during that period no further news had been
+      received in Cappy Ricks' office, although the diligent Skinner, aided and
+      abetted by the waterfront reporters, managed to have a piece of cheering
+      information for Florry about every two weeks. And, in order to forestall
+      any possibility of some garrulous girl friend, with a male relative in the
+      shipping business, &ldquo;spilling the beans,&rdquo; as Cappy expressed it, the old
+      man had taken a house in the country, and came to the office only twice a
+      week to mourn for his lost Matthew and glean what little comfort he could
+      from the empty words of hope Mr. Skinner dispensed so lavishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If we can only keep Florry buoyed up with hope until the baby comes!&rdquo;
+       Cappy would groan. &ldquo;She's worried; but, strange to say, Skinner, she
+      hasn't the slightest idea he's in any danger. Those fake cablegrams and
+      reports of ships speaking Matt&mdash;each time closer to home&mdash;have
+      done the trick, Skinner. Of course the boy's dead, and I killed him; but
+      Florry&mdash;well, she took a trip on the <i>Retriever</i> and knows how
+      safe she is, and I've had a lot of old sailing skippers down to visit me,
+      and primed them to tell her just how they would get away with such a
+      proposition as Matt's&mdash;and how easy it would be. Besides, she knows
+      Matt had some plague prophylactic aboard&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and I've told her she mustn't show the white feather&mdash;for your
+      sake,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner interrupted; &ldquo;and I think she's sensible enough to know
+      she mustn't permit herself to show it&mdash;for the baby's sake.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy bowed his head and shook like a hooked fish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When the baby's two weeks old I'll tell her,&rdquo; he moaned. &ldquo;Oh, Skinner,
+      Skinner, my dear boy, this is going to kill me! I won't last long now,
+      Skinner. All my fault! I had to go butting in. That girl's heart is
+      breaking with anxiety. When she comes down to breakfast, Skinner, I can
+      see she's been crying all night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horrible!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner murmured. &ldquo;Horrible! We can only hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On the twelfth of September Florry's baby was born. It was a boy, and a
+      bouncing boy at that; and Cappy Ricks forgot for the moment he had
+      rendered that baby fatherless, and came up to the city to report the news
+      to Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he announced with just a touch of his
+      old-time jauntiness, &ldquo;little Matthew just arrived! Everything lovely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner was about to formulate suitable phrases of congratulation when
+      the telephone bell rang. It was Jerry Dooley up at the Merchants'
+      Exchange; and he was all excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, Skinner,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;The <i>Retriever</i> is passing in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner shrieked. &ldquo;It isn't possible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is! She's coming in the Gate now&mdash;she's right under the lookout's
+      telescope; and there's only one man on deck&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner turned to Cappy Ricks, put his arms round him and jerked the
+      old man from one end of the office to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's safe, he's safe, he's safe, he's safe!&rdquo; he howled indecorously.
+      &ldquo;Matt's sailing her in. He's sailing her in&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You scoundrel!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled. &ldquo;Be quiet! Is she sailing in or towing&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's sailing in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks slumped down in his chair, his arms hanging weakly at his
+      sides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Skinner,&rdquo; he barely whispered, &ldquo;Matt's alive, after all. Nobody else
+      would have the consummate crust to sail her in but him. Any other skipper
+      under heaven would have hove to off the lightship and sent in word by the
+      pilot boat to send out a tug. Oh, Lord, I thank Thee! I'm a wicked,
+      foolish, bone-headed old man; but Lord, I do thank Thee&mdash;I do,
+      indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later Cappy Ricks and Mr. Skinner, in a fast motorboat, came
+      flying up the bay and caught sight of the <i>Retriever</i> loafing lazily
+      past Fort Mason. On she came, with a tiny bone in her teeth; and suddenly,
+      as Cappy peered ahead through the spray that flew in over the bows of the
+      launch and drenched him to the skin, the <i>Retriever's</i> mainsail was
+      lowered rapidly. The vessel was falling off by the time the mainsail was
+      down and Cappy and Mr. Skinner saw Matt run aft, steady the wheel and
+      bring the vessel up on the wind again. She was now under spanker and the
+      headsails. Matt lashed the wheel and again ran forward, pausing at the
+      main-topmast-staysail halyards to cast them off and permit the sail to
+      come down by the run.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On to the topgallant forecastle Matt Peasley leaped, praising his Maker
+      for patent anchors on the <i>Retriever</i>. With a hammer he knocked out
+      the stopper; the starboard anchor dropped and the red rust flew from her
+      hawsepipe as the anchor chain screamed through it. With his hand on the
+      compressor of the windlass, Matt Peasley snubbed her gently to the
+      forty-five fathom shackle, cast off his jib halyards to let the jib slide
+      down the stay by its own weight, raced aft, and gently lowered the spanker
+      as the American barkentine <i>Retriever</i>, with the yellow flag flying
+      at the fore, swung gently to anchor on the quarantine grounds, two hundred
+      and twenty-one days from Manila.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks turned to his general manager.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pretty work, Skinner!&rdquo; he said huskily. &ldquo;I guess there's nothing wrong
+      with that boy's health. Damn! The quarantine boat will beat us to it!
+      Matt's throwing the Jacob's ladder over the side for them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can't board her until she passes quarantine&mdash;&rdquo; Mr. Skinner began;
+      but Cappy silenced him with a terrible look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The word can't, Skinner, was eliminated from my vocabulary some fifty
+      years ago. We can&mdash;and I will! You needn't; but I've simply got to!
+      Hey, you!&rdquo;&mdash;to the launchman&mdash;&ldquo;kick her wide open and show some
+      speed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Despite the warning cries from the quarantine officers in the health boat,
+      the launch ran in along the <i>Retriever's</i> side; Cappy Ricks grasped
+      the Jacob's ladder as the launch rasped by and climbed up with an agility
+      that caused Mr. Skinner to marvel. As his silk hat appeared over the <i>Retriever's</i>
+      rail a wind-bitten, bewhiskered, gaunt, hungry-looking semi-savage reached
+      down, grasped him under the arms, snaked him inboard and hugged him to his
+      heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silence for a minute, while Cappy Ricks' thin old shoulders shook and
+      heaved as from some internal spasm, and Matt Peasley's big brown hand
+      patted Cappy's back. Presently he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, father-in-law&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From somewhere in Matt Peasley's whiskers Cappy's voice came plaintively:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not father-in-law, sonny. New title&mdash;this morning&mdash;six o'clock&mdash;nine&mdash;pounds&mdash;grandfather!
+      Eh? Yes; grandfather! Grandpa Ricks!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy or girl?&rdquo; Matt Peasley roared, and shook the newly-elected
+      grandfather.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy! Florry&mdash;fine&mdash;never lost hope!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A port health officer came over the rail. He shook an admonitory finger at
+      Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, you! Old man, you're under arrest&mdash;that is, you're in
+      quarantine, and you'll have to stay aboard this ship until she's
+      fumigated. Yes; and we'll fumigate you, too. Whadje mean by coming aboard
+      ahead of us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cappy,&rdquo; Matt Peasley said, &ldquo;tell that person to go chase himself! Why,
+      there hasn't been any plague aboard the ship in nearly five months!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy looked up and wiped the tears of joy out of his whiskers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scoundrel!&rdquo; he cackled. &ldquo;Infernal young scoundrel! What do you mean by
+      risking my <i>Retriever</i>, sailing her through the Gate with a crew of
+      one man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take a look at me!&rdquo; Matt laughed. &ldquo;I'm all hands! And didn't I prove I'm
+      enough men to handle her? The pilots wouldn't board me, and by sailing her
+      in myself I saved pilotage and salvage claims. I lost the lower topsail
+      and the consignees are going to find a shortage in those hardwood logs;
+      but that's all&mdash;except that I haven't had a decent meal in God knows
+      when. Say, Cappy, what does he look like? A Peasley or a Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both,&rdquo; Cappy chirped diplomatically. &ldquo;Matt, are you all over the
+      blue-water fever?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet!&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;No more relief jobs for me. I've had plenty,
+      although it might have been worse. It was lonely and sometimes I thought I
+      was going crazy. Used to talk out loud to myself! I had some awful
+      weather; but I just tucked her head under her wing and let her roll, and
+      after I ran into the northeast monsoon, and later into the westerly winds,
+      I had it easier and got more rest. You know, Cappy, when a ship is sailing
+      on the wind, if you lash her helm a little bit below amidships she'll
+      steer herself. Slow work, but&mdash;I got here; and, now that I'm here,
+      I'm going to stay here.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, Cappy,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;I've just got to have something with sails
+      to play with; but no more offshore sailing in mine&mdash;that is&mdash;well,
+      I'm going to stay home for a long time&mdash;after a while, maybe&mdash;and
+      meantime I'm going to build a little schooner yacht&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the love of Mike, do!&rdquo; Cappy pleaded. &ldquo;I'll be stuck in quarantine
+      with you for a couple of days and we'll kill time drawing up a rough set
+      of plans. And when that schooner yacht is ready, Matt, I'll tell you what
+      I want you to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, Cappy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send the bill to grandpa, Matthew!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I hadn't been a case-hardened old fool I'd have cheered you on when
+      you wanted to build that schooner yacht last year. I'd have saved myself a
+      world of grief.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He placed his hand gently on Matt's shoulder and his face was ineffably
+      sad as he continued: &ldquo;Of course, with you away and your fate undecided, as
+      it were, Matt, that infernal Skinner wasn't worth two hoots in a hollow.
+      Why, the boy flopped around the office like a rooster with its head off,
+      and as a result I've had to come out of my retirement and keep an eye on
+      things. Thank God, I can let go now. Really, Matt, you have no idea how I
+      long to separate myself from the hurly-burly of California street. What I
+      want is peace and seclusion&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can have my share of that commodity for the remainder of my natural
+      life,&rdquo; Matt laughed happily, &ldquo;I want noise and people. I want screaming
+      and yelling and fighting and risks and profits and losses and liars and
+      scoundrels and honest men all inextricably mixed.&rdquo; He tossed his great
+      sun-tanned arms above his head. &ldquo;Lord, I want Life,&rdquo; he half shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy sighed. These young pups! When they grow to see life as old dogs&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Matt, all I've got to say is that the first man that butts into my
+      private office and starts unloading a cargo of grief on me, is going to
+      get busted between the eyes with a paper weight. I'm through with grief
+      and woe. I don't give a hoot what happens to the world or anybody in it. I
+      want peace and a rest. I can afford it and wouldn't I be a first-class
+      idiot not to take it while the taking is good, Matt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more mixing in the shipping end, eh?&rdquo; Matt asked hopefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy raised his right hand solemnly. &ldquo;Never again, Matt. I'm through with
+      ships and sailors and cargoes and the whole cussed Blue Star fleet can
+      sink and be damned to it, but I'll not lift a hand to save it. I'm
+      THROUGH.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      ALAS! Man proposes, but God disposes. Cappy had smoked his post-prandial
+      cigar next day and was in the midst of his mid-afternoon siesta, when the
+      buzzer on his desk waked him with its insistent buzzing. He reached for
+      the telephone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; he reproved his private exchange operator, &ldquo;how often have I
+      told you not to disturb me between two and three o'clock?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew you wouldn't mind being disturbed this afternoon, Mr. Ricks. Your
+      old friend Mr. Gurney, of New York, is calling.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old Joe Gurney? By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! Show him in.&rdquo; Cappy was at
+      the door to meet his visitor when the latter entered. Mr Joseph Gurney,
+      senior partner of the firm of Gurney &amp; Harlan, was, like Cappy Ricks,
+      a shiping man and a Down-Easter. He and Cappy Ricks had been a boyhood
+      friends in Thomaston, Main, and Gurney &amp; Harlan were the agents and
+      controlling owners of the Red Funnel line plying between New York and
+      ports on the West Coast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Joe, you doddering old pirate?&rdquo; cried Cappy Ricks affectionately.
+      &ldquo;Come in and rest your hands and feet. I'm tremendously glad to see you.
+      When did you drift into down?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook hands with Gurney and steered him toward a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten minutes ago, Alden, my boy. Delighted to see you again, and
+      particularly pleased to see how carelessly you carry your years. I'm three
+      months younger than you&mdash;and I feel like the last rose of summer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look it, Joe. Take a leaf out of my book and let the young fellows
+      'tend to business for you. Don't let worry ride over you in the shank of
+      your old age, my boy. I never do. Haven't paid a bit of attention to
+      business in the last ten years, and that's why at my age I'm looking so
+      fit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll live to be a hundred, Alden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;I'm going to live while I have the time. I never
+      expect to be a walking corpse just stalling round in an effort to defer
+      settlement with the undertaker, and I won't be a dead one until the
+      neighbors hear a quartet singing Lead Kindly Light out at my house&mdash;Joe
+      you look worried. Anything gone wrong with you, old friend? Need some
+      money? Have you married a young wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Joey,&rdquo; Gurney confessed miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? My godson, little Joey Gurney?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's big Joey Gurney now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and a fine boy, Joe&mdash;no thanks to you. His mother's influence
+      was strong enough to counteract any impulses for crime he might have
+      inherited from his father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gurney smiled sadly at Cappy Ricks' badinage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is a fine boy, Alden, but&mdash;he's only a boy, and I'm afraid he's
+      going to make hash of his young life before it's fairly started.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Booze?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then where did he first meet this woman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joe Gurney, Senior, hitched his chair close to his friend's and laid an
+      impressive hand on Cappy's knee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alden,&rdquo; he said feelingly, &ldquo;you and I have been friends, man and boy, for
+      about sixty-five years. I believe we were five years old when we robbed
+      Deacon Follansbee's beehive and got stung to death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and we've both been getting stung more or less ever since, only
+      somehow we still manage to recover and be none the worse for the
+      experience. At least, Joe, we learned about bees. When it comes to boys,
+      however, I've still got my experience coming. My little chap died when he
+      was twelve, you know. I've never quite gotten over his loss; in fact, Joe,
+      I was dreaming of him a minute ago when you called.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had him long enough, Alden, to realize how I feel about Joey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy nodded. &ldquo;Let's see,&rdquo; he answered, reflectively pulling his whiskers,
+      &ldquo;Joey must be about twenty-four years old now, isn't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty-four last Tuesday; and at twenty-five he comes into his mother's
+      fortune. I've managed his little nest egg pretty well, Alden; invested it
+      all in the vessel property of Gurney &amp; Harlan, and since the war
+      started I've swelled what originally was a quarter of a million to about a
+      million and a half. His stock in the Red Funnel Line is worth a million at
+      the very least, and the remaining half million is represented by cold cash
+      in bank and bonds that can be converted into cash overnight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum-m-m! Harumph-h-h! Quite a fortune for a youth of a twenty-five to be
+      intrusted with. I'll bet somebody will take it away from him before he's
+      thirty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a safe bet, Alden. He has a candidate for his money on his trail
+      right now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he doesn't realize it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alden, he's only twenty-four years old. What does a boy know at
+      twenty-four?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Joe, you and I had accumulated a heap of experience and hard knocks
+      at that age, and I seem to remember we each had a little money we'd
+      managed to save here and there. I don't agree with you at all on this
+      twenty-four-year-old excuse. My son-in-law, Matt Peasley&mdash;you
+      remember the Peasleys of Thomaston; Matt's a nephew of Ethan, who was lost
+      off the main yard of the <i>Martha Peasley</i>&mdash;was holding a
+      master's ticket for sail, any ocean and any tonnage, before he was
+      twenty-one. He's not much older than your Joey right now, but,
+      nevertheless, he's president of the Blue Star Navigation Company and worth
+      a million and a half, every dollar of which he has made by his own energy
+      and ability.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, Alden, there are exceptions to every rule.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not if you raise 'em right and you've got the right kind of stock to work
+      on and the boy is healthy and normal. Now I know your Joey comes from the
+      right stock; I know his mother raised him right until he was sixteen when
+      the good Lord took her away from you both; and I know he is healthy and
+      normal. Hasn't he proved that by falling in love? The only conclusion I
+      can draw, therefore, is that you've made a monkey out of him, Joe Gurney.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I have, Alden; perhaps I have,&rdquo; Gurney replied sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No 'perhaps' about it. I know you have. You sent him to college and gave
+      him ten thousand dollars a year to spend. If you wanted to give him a fine
+      education and turn out a man and a gentleman you might have gotten him
+      into the Naval Academy at Annapolis, where he would have learned something
+      of ships and graduated with a master's ticket; after serving a few years
+      and getting the corners knocked off him he could have resigned and you
+      would have had a sane, dependable man to sit in at your desk when you're
+      gone. By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, Joe Gurney, you make me sick! You're
+      like every other damphool American father who accumulates a few million
+      dollars in excess of his legitimate needs and then gets all puffed up with
+      the notion he's got to give his son all the so-called advantages his own
+      parents were too poor to afford him&mdash;or too sensible. The result is
+      you turn out an undeveloped or over-developed boob, too proud to work and
+      not able to take a real man's place in the world because he hasn't been
+      taught how. And in the course of time he marries a female boob who has
+      been raised according to the same general specifications, and nine times
+      out of ten she's too refined to be bothered with a family. And presently
+      there's a trip out to Reno and the little squib in the paper and&mdash;er&mdash;ahem!
+      Drat your picture, Joe, you're the responsible party. You created a
+      ten-thousand-dollar-a-year parasite on the body politic while your boy was
+      still in his teens, and now you want to know what the devil to do about
+      it, don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's exactly what I want to know, Alden,&rdquo; Gurney confessed miserably,
+      &ldquo;and I've crossed the continent to get your advice. I haven't very many
+      real friends&mdash;the kind I can open my heart to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut, tut, Joe. Enough of vain repining. Now then, old friend, let's get
+      to the bottom of this thing and see if we can't buy this wreck in from the
+      underwriters, salvage it and put it in commission again. Never say die,
+      Joe! Where there's a will there's a lawsuit or a heartache&mdash;particularly
+      if the estate makes it worth while. Now then, Joe, you must realize that
+      it's the fashion nowadays, when a fellow has to consult a specialist, to
+      give his personal and family history for three generations back before
+      receiving treatment. So if I am to diagnose Joey's case I'll have to have
+      a history of Joey. Now then! He graduated from college at the age of
+      twenty-two did he not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't graduate, Alden. He was requested to leave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum-m-m! I didn't know that. What for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;General uselessness and animal spirits, I suppose. It wasn't anything
+      dishonorable. The main contributory cause was an alleged poem lampooning
+      some individual they called Prexy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum-m-m! And since leaving college what has he done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had him in my office.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joe, answer my question. I know you've had him in your office. But what
+      has he done? Has he earned his salary?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid he hasn't, Alden. Somehow golf and tennis and week-end parties
+      and yachting and big-game hunting in Alaska and tarpon fishing in Florida
+      sort of interfere with business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that isn't much of a crime, Joe. I never had time to do those
+      highly enjoyable things and I couldn't afford them. When I could afford
+      them and had time to do them I was too old. You say the boy is fond of
+      yachting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's his greatest hobby. In his taste for salt water he at least
+      resembles his ancestors. The Gurneys were all sailors and shipping men.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he a good yachtsman, Joe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has a schooner that's a hundred and six feet over all and he seems to
+      win pretty regularly with her. I never knew him to get worse than second
+      place in all the races he has entered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too bad,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks murmured sadly. &ldquo;A noble ambition absolutely
+      misdirected. He would have been a skipper and, lastly, a good shipping man
+      if you had only managed him like a sensible father should. Now about this
+      girl he's in love with?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That happened about three months ago. He met her at one of those
+      roof-garden, midnight cabaret, turkey-trot palaces in New York&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. I always take in the sights when I go to New York, but the
+      last time I was at that one up near Fifty-fourth Street the noise bothered
+      me. And the show was very poor; in fact, after seeing it I made up my mind
+      I was off cabaret stuff for keeps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ancient scalawag! What were you doing in a place like that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seeing life as it ought not to be, of course. Your boy Joey took me up
+      there, by the way. In-fer-nal young scoundrel! He showed me the town and
+      we had quite a time together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joe Gurney's old eyes popped with amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You went batting round with my Joey&mdash;an old ruin like you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? We behaved ourselves, and besides I always trot a heat with the
+      young fellows whenever I get a chance. It keeps me young. I enjoyed Joey a
+      heap, although I could see he was a jolly young jackass. Moreover, I'm his
+      godfather, and I guess it was all right for me to tag along and see to it
+      that my godson didn't get into deep water close to the shore, wasn't it?
+      Don't you ever step out with Joey and get your nose wet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks smiled wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had a son I'd pal up with him,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I'd want to get out
+      with him and raise a little dignified hell once in a while, just to be a
+      human being and keep him from being a mollycoddle. Ahem! Harumph. So he
+      flagged this damsel in the leg show, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joe Gurney nodded miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you given her the once over?&rdquo; Cappy demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I went up there one night. I was afraid somebody would see me, so I
+      took along Joey's aunt, Matilda. We saw the young woman. She does a dance
+      specialty&mdash;an alleged Hawaiian hula-hula. It's fake from start to
+      finish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You show a guilty technical knowledge of the hula, Joe,&rdquo; Cappy reminded
+      him. &ldquo;But passing that, what's the latest report on the situation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horrible, Alden, horrible!&rdquo; replied Joe Gurney.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Careful, Joe, careful! Many a wheat-straw skirt and sharks'-teeth
+      necklace may conceal a pure and honest heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she's been married twice and divorced once, to begin with, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a-plenty, Joe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she has just completed her contract in the show and gone out to Reno
+      to acquire a six months' residence in order to get rid of husband number
+      two so she can take on Joey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who told you all this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found it out&mdash;by asking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you told Joey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gurney nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had one of his young friends, whom I can trust, tip him off in
+      confidence. The news didn't make any difference to Joey. He asked her
+      about it, and she explained it all away to his entire satisfaction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare say. And you haven't given any indication to your son that you're
+      on to him and his love affair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought best to pretend ignorance, pending my arrival at a solution of
+      the difficulty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Therein you showed a gleam of real intelligence. Having humored your boy
+      all his life you could not expect to cross him in his first love affair
+      and get away with it. No, sir-ree! The thing to do is to put the skids
+      under Joey and his lady love before they know you know it. Tell me more
+      about her, however, before I begin making skids and skid grease.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is thirty-one years old&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks threw up both hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Farewell, O my countrymen!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has two children&mdash;one by her first husband and one by her
+      second. They're living with her mother. She supports them from the
+      proceeds of her hula dancing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Score a white mark for her, Joe. Is she a good looker?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A brunette, Alden, and Joey's Aunt Matilda admitted against her will that
+      she was a beauty. My lawyer tells me, however, that she hasn't an ounce of
+      brains, and proclaims the fact by laughing loudly when there is nothing
+      particularly worth laughing at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine you've had a detective agency investigating her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have. She has little education and no refinement; her people are very
+      ordinary. Her father is a whitewing in Philadelphia and is separated from
+      her mother, who keeps a boarding house in Muncie, Indiana.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid, Joe, she won't do for your daughter-in-law,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks
+      opined slowly. &ldquo;But don't worry, my boy. You've come all the way from New
+      York to confide in me and get my advice, and somehow I have a sneaking
+      notion you've come to the right shop. If there's anybody calculated to put
+      a crimp in love's young dream, I'm that individual.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew Joey and you were good friends, and besides, you're his godfather.
+      He thinks a lot of you, Alden, and I kind of thought maybe you might come
+      East with me, see the boy, get him to confide in you and&mdash;er&mdash;sort
+      of advise him in the way he should go. I'm&mdash;er&mdash;well, Alden, I'm
+      afraid I feel too badly about this to talk to Joey. I might lose my
+      temper, and besides&mdash;besides, he's all I have and he reminds me so
+      much of his mother that I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I understand, Joe. Leave it to me and I'll advise with him.
+      Yes, I will&mdash;with an ax handle! And I'll go East with you and tie
+      knots in his tail&mdash;only he won't know anything about it. It may cost
+      you a little money, but I assume expense is no object.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be cheap at a million.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where that boy and your money are concerned you're such an ass, Joe, I'm
+      almost tempted to charge you a million extra for the operation. However,
+      considering Deacon Follansbee's beehive, and Joey's mother and my godson&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his, that trembled so
+      with age and anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear old Alden,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I knew you wouldn't fail me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      For a long time after old Joe Gurney had terminated his visit Cappy Ricks
+      sat in the position which with him always denoted intense mental
+      concentration. He had sunk low in his swivel chair and swung his old legs
+      to the top of his desk; his head was bowed on his breast and his eyes were
+      closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly he started as if snake-bitten, sat up at his desk and reached for
+      the telephone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get me the West Coast Trading Company,&rdquo; he ordered the private exchange
+      operator, &ldquo;and tell Mr. J. Augustus Redell I want to speak to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell answered presently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gus, my dear young friend,&rdquo; Cappy began briskly, &ldquo;I want you to do me a
+      favor, and in so doing I think you'll find you are going to perform one
+      for yourself also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good news, Cappy. Consider it done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, my boy, but this particular favor isn't done quite so quickly.
+      I want you to tell that Peruvian partner of yours, Live Wire Luiz Almeida
+      to dig up a specification for a cargo of fir to be discharged on lighters
+      at some open roadstead on the West Coast, and the more open the port and
+      the more difficult it is to discharge there; and the harder it is to get
+      any sane shipowner to charter a vessel to deliver a cargo there, the
+      better I'll be pleased. Surely, Gus, you must have a customer down on the
+      West Coast in some such port as I describe, who is actually watering at
+      the mouth for a cargo of lumber and is unable to place it with a mill that
+      will guarantee delivery? Look into the matter, Augustus, and see what you
+      can do for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you want to furnish such a cargo from one of the Ricks Lumber &amp;
+      Logging Company's northern mills and freight it in one of your Blue Star
+      Navigation Company vessels?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't want to do it,&rdquo; Cappy replied; &ldquo;but in this particular case
+      the acceptance of such a cargo and the freighting of it via a Blue Star
+      windjammer, even though the usual demurrage at such discharging ports will
+      cause the vessel a loss, is a consummation devoutly to be wished.
+      Ordinarily, if you made such a proposition to me I'd call in the boys from
+      the general office and tell them to throw you out, but&mdash;well, in this
+      case I'm willing to stand the loss, Augustus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you are&mdash;not. Somebody else will recompense you for any loss,
+      Cappy Ricks, never fear. Do you want the West Coast Trading Company to
+      give you a bonus for accepting our order?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my boy. I'll make Skinner sell you the lumber at the regular base
+      price at the mill, plus insurance and freight to point of discharge. And I
+      won't stick you too deep on the freight, even in wartime.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's something wrong with you this morning, Cappy,&rdquo; Redell declared,
+      highly mystified. &ldquo;You're too obliging. However, I'm not to be outgamed. I
+      have a specification for a cargo of half a million feet for delivery at
+      Sobre Vista, Peru; I've been trying for a month to place the order and
+      nobody will accept it because nobody wants to guarantee delivery. On the
+      other hand, the purchasers have been unable to get any ship owner to
+      charter them a vessel to go to Sobre Vista without a guaranty of a
+      perfectly prohibitive rate of demurrage per diem; consequently I had just
+      about abandoned my efforts to place the order.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine business, Gus. And is Sobre Vista a rotten port at which to
+      discharge?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's vile, Cappy. It's an open roadstead and the vessel lies off-shore
+      and discharges into lighters. About four days a week the surf is so high
+      the lighters cannot lie alongside the ship or be run up on the beach
+      without being ruined, and to complicate the situation they only have two
+      or three lighters at the port. Labor is scarce, too, and the few <i>cargadores</i>
+      a skipper can hire have a habit of working two days and staying drunk for
+      the remainder of the week on the proceeds of those two days of labor. So
+      you can see for yourself that discharge in Sobre Vista is very hard on the
+      skipper's nerves, and that if he can work two days a week he's in luck.
+      And when we deduct from those two days all the national holidays and holy
+      days and saints' feast days that have to be duly celebrated, not to
+      mention the three hundred and sixty-five days in the year the populace
+      doesn't feel like exerting itself&mdash;well, Cappy, I couldn't give you
+      anything worse than Sobre Vista if you paid me for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May the good Lord bless you, Augustus! Come down and do business with
+      Skinner on the cargo. Get him to quote you a price f.o.b. ship's tackles
+      at the mill dock and tell him you'll furnish the tonnage when the cargo is
+      ready for delivery. There's no sense in worrying poor Skinner until his
+      worries are due, and when I send a Blue Star schooner to load your cargo
+      for Sobre Vista I'm going to have to fight him and my son-in-law, Matt
+      Peasley. But leave it to me, Gus. I'll guarantee the tonnage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is certainly wonderful,&rdquo; the grateful Redell observed. &ldquo;Thank you,
+      Cappy. What I'll do to those Peruvian customers of mine on price will be a
+      shame and a disgrace. Are you going to stick me for any demurrage on the
+      vessel, Cappy? Because if you are, I'll have to stick my customers in
+      order to get out clean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No demurrage, Gus, not a penny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bully! Then I'll stick my customers anyhow. It makes the profit all the
+      greater, and since they expect to pay a reasonable demurrage I see no
+      reason why I should disappoint them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Redell had hung up Cappy summoned into his presence Captain Matt
+      Peasley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt,&rdquo; he queried, &ldquo;what schooners have you got due at any one of our
+      northern mills within the next thirty days?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley pondered and counted on his big fingers. &ldquo;The <i>Tyee</i>
+      will be in from Valparaiso about that time,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you got her chartered?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. We're using her in our own trade. Skinner will have a cargo ready
+      for her by the time she gets back, although we don't know yet where we
+      will send her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Matt, you tell Skinner he can't have her and to look around for
+      some other vessel to take her place. I may give her to him at the last
+      minute, but then again I may not. When she arrives at the mill, Matthew,
+      my boy, tie her up to the mill dock to await my pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what the devil are you going to do with the <i>Tyee?</i>&rdquo; Matt
+      demanded, astounded beyond measure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I might want to take a cruise for my health and use the <i>Tyee</i> as a
+      pleasure boat,&rdquo; Cappy answered enigmatically. &ldquo;They tell me she's as fast
+      as a yacht in a breeze of wind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The longer I'm acquainted with you, father-in-law,&rdquo; Matt Peasley
+      declared, &ldquo;the less I know you. You can have your <i>Tyee</i>, but for
+      every day she is held awaiting your pleasure your personal account will be
+      charged with something in three figures. I'll figure out her average
+      profit per day for the last five voyages and soak you accordingly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fair enough,&rdquo; quoth Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Three weeks later Alden P. Ricks arrived in New York. After he had been
+      driven to his hotel and had removed the stains of travel he telephoned the
+      office of Gurney &amp; Harlan and got Gurney, Senior, on the line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm here, Joe,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;Have you followed my instructions
+      and cut Joey off at the pockets?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have, Alden. He's rather desperate as a result, and has been trying to
+      borrow money by hypothecating the inheritance due him on his twenty-fifth
+      birthday. You see, I didn't give him a second's notice; just told him he
+      was spending too much time in play and too much money for pleasure, and
+      that until he came into his private fortune he would have to earn any
+      money he desired to spend. I have been very firm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the stuff, Joe. And is he trying to earn it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I think so. He's sticking round the office at any rate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum-m-m! That's because it costs money to go anywhere else. Has he
+      succeeded in raising a loan by assigning an interest in his inheritance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not yet. I blocked him at all the banks and with my old friends, and
+      I do not think he can borrow as much as he needs from any of his friends.
+      They, like him of course, are dependent on their fathers' generosity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine way to raise a boy! Bully. Well, I'll be down to your office in
+      about an hour and take you and Joey to luncheon at India House. You
+      haven't forgotten what I wrote you, Joe? You know your part, don't you? .
+      . . Well, see that you play your hand well and we'll save that boy yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two hours later the Gurneys were lunching with Cappy Ricks at the one New
+      York club to which Cappy belonged&mdash;quaint old India House in Hanover
+      Square, haunt of shipping men and shippers, perhaps the best and
+      least-known club in New York City. Joey had been unaffectedly glad to see
+      his godfather; so much so, indeed, that Cappy rightly guessed Joey had
+      designs on the Ricks pocketbook; for after all, as Cappy admitted to
+      himself, he is a curmudgeon of a godfather indeed who will refuse to loan
+      his godson a much needed twenty-five thousand dollars on gilt-edged
+      security. In expectation of an application for a loan before the day
+      should be done, however, Cappy was careful not to be alone with Joey for
+      an instant, for something told him that only the presence of Gurney,
+      Senior, kept Gurney Junior from promptly putting his fortune to the touch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Joey, you young cut-up,&rdquo; Cappy began as the trio settled in the
+      smoking room and the waiter brought the coffee and cigars, &ldquo;I see you're
+      getting to be quite an amateur sailor. Your Dad tells me you won your last
+      race with that schooner yacht of yours in rather pretty fashion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a bully race, Mr. Ricks. I wish you could have been aboard with
+      me,&rdquo; Joey declared enthusiastically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum-m-m! Catch me on a yacht!&rdquo; Cappy's tones were indicative of profound
+      disgust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ricks, you're a kill-joy,&rdquo; old Gurney struck in. &ldquo;All you think of is
+      making money, and you've made so much of it I should think the game would
+      have palled on you long ago. I tell Joey to go it while he's young&mdash;while
+      he has the capacity for enjoyment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joe, I tell you now, as I've told you before, you're spoiling this boy.
+      When he's twenty-five years old he comes into a fortune and you're not
+      even preparing him for the task of handling that money wisely. You bought
+      Joey that schooner yacht, didn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I bought her cheap,&rdquo; old Joe Gurney protested lamely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They cost a fortune to maintain, Joe. Now if Joey wanted some salt-water
+      experience you should have sent him to sea as quartermaster on one of your
+      own Red Funnel liners; presently he would have worked up to second mate;
+      then first mate, and finally skipper. By that time he would have known the
+      salt-water end of his father's business, after which he could sit in at a
+      desk and learn the business end. Somehow, Joe, when I see a shipping man's
+      son fooling away his time on a pleasure yacht instead of learning the
+      shipping business, I feel as if I'd just taken a dose of ipecac.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Godfather is out of sorts,&rdquo; Joey soliloquized sagely, and resolved to
+      wait a day or two before broaching the subject of a loan. Cappy Ricks
+      surveyed the young fellow severely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joey,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;I've no doubt you're quite a sailor on your handsome
+      yacht, in your yachting uniform, with all the real head work to be done by
+      your sailing master&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a bit of it,&rdquo; Joey protested. &ldquo;I'm not that kind of a yachtsman. I'm
+      the captain tight and the midshipmite, and the crew take orders from me,
+      because I don't employ a sailing master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to tell me that when you go on a cruise to the West Indies
+      you navigate the yacht yourself&mdash;lay out your own courses and work
+      out your own position?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey smiled patronizingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;That's easy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure. Play is always easy. But let me tell you, young man, if you had
+      command of a big three-legged windjammer, with a deckload of heavy green
+      lumber fresh from the saws, and ran into a stiff sou'-easter such as we
+      have out on the Pacific coast, you'd know what real sailoring is like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joey could handle her like that,&rdquo; old Gurney declared with pride, and
+      snapped his fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could you, Joey?&rdquo; Cappy Ricks demanded. &ldquo;I have my doubts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I think so, Mr. Ricks. I might be a little cautious at first&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't think you could,&rdquo; Cappy interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I do,&rdquo; old Gurney declared with some warmth. &ldquo;I've been out with
+      Joey on his yacht and I know what the boy can do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bah! You're a doddering old softy, Joe. Yachting is one thing and
+      sailoring is another. I have an old lumber hooker on Gray's Harbor now,
+      loading for a port in Peru, and I'd certainly love to see Joey with her on
+      his hands. I'll bet fifty thousand dollars he couldn't sail her down to
+      Sobre Vista, discharge her and sail back inside of six months.&rdquo; The old
+      schemer chuckled. &ldquo;Lordy me,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;I'd like to see Joey trying
+      to make her point up into the wind! She'd break his heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Alden,&rdquo; Old Joe Gurney commenced to bristle. &ldquo;Are you serious
+      about that or are you just making conversation bets? Because if you're
+      serious I'm just shipping man enough to call you for the sheer sporting
+      joy of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, you're on!&rdquo; Cappy Ricks almost yelled.
+      &ldquo;Put up or shut up&mdash;that is, provided Joey is as big a sport as his
+      father and will undertake to sail my schooner <i>Tyee</i> to Sobre Vista
+      and back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she's a schooner!&rdquo; There was relief in Joey's voice. &ldquo;Why, I'll sail
+      any vessel with a fore-and-aft rig. I thought perhaps you were trying to
+      ring in a square-rigger on me, and I'm not familiar with them. But a
+      schooner&mdash;pooh! Pie for little Joey!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's got three legs, and with a deck-load of lumber she's cranky and
+      topheavy. I'm warning you, Joey. Remember he is a poor ship owner who
+      doesn't know his own ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey got up and went to a map laid out on a table, with a piece of plate
+      glass over it, to compute the sailing distance from Gray's Harbor to Sobre
+      Vista. He could not find Sobre Vista on the map.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Figure the distance to Mollendo and you'll be close enough for all
+      practical purposes,&rdquo; Cappy called to him, and winked at the boy's father.
+      &ldquo;A little pep, here, boy,&rdquo; he whispered to Gurney, &ldquo;and we'll snare him
+      yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey came back from his study of the map.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd have the nor'west trades clear to the Line,&rdquo; he remarked to his
+      father. &ldquo;After that I'd be liable to bang round for a couple of weeks in
+      the doldrums, but in spite of that&mdash;did you say I couldn't do it in
+      six months, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I said, Joey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take the bet, dad,&rdquo; said Joey quietly, &ldquo;and I'll take half of it off your
+      hands. I'll give you my note, secured by an assignment of a
+      twenty-five-thousand-dollar interest in mother's estate to secure you in
+      case Mr. Ricks should win and call you for his winnings&mdash;but he
+      hasn't a chance in the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Money talks,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks warned him and got out his check book. &ldquo;Joe,
+      I'll make a check in your favor for fifty thousand dollars and you make
+      one in my favor for the same amount. We will then deposit both checks with
+      the secretary of the club, who will act as stakeholder&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Nuff said, Alden P. Ricks. I accept the dare. Sonny, if you're a worse
+      sailor-man than you appear to be, you're liable to cost your father a
+      sizable wad. However, I can't resist this opportunity to put a nick in the
+      Ricks bank roll.&rdquo; Gurney snickered. &ldquo;Alden,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;you'll bleed
+      for a month of Sundays. Really, this is too easy! For old sake's sake,
+      I'll give you a chance to withdraw before it is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let the tail go with the hide, Joe. I don't often bet, but when I do I'm
+      no piker. Joey, there's just one little condition I'm going to exact,
+      however. I'm going to send one of my own skippers along with you on the <i>Tyee</i>,
+      because your license as master only permits you to skipper pleasure boats
+      up to a hundred tons net register; so in order to comply with the law I'll
+      have to have a sure-enough skipper aboard the <i>Tyee</i>. But he shall
+      have orders from me to be nothing but a companion to you, Joey. Once the
+      tugboat casts you off, you are to be in supreme command until you
+      voluntarily relinquish your authority, when of course he will take the
+      ship off your hands. Any relinquishment of authority, however, will be
+      tantamount to failure, and you will, of course, lose your twenty-five
+      thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a reasonable stipulation, godfather. I accept if father does&mdash;that
+      is, provided dad lets me in on half the bet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better let the young feller in, Joe,&rdquo; Cappy suggested. &ldquo;If you don't he
+      might throw the race.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't like to encourage the habit of betting, least of all with
+      my own son, but in view of the fact that this is a friendly little bet and&mdash;er&mdash;well,
+      you can have half, Joey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir,&rdquo; said Joey. &ldquo;Mr. Ricks, when do I start?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks glanced at his watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sooner the better,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;The <i>Tyee</i> is loading now, but
+      I'll wire them you're coming and to hold her for you. You have time to
+      arrange your affairs, pack a trunk and catch the Lake Shore Limited for
+      Chicago at five o'clock. From Chicago you take the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind. I know the quickest route. Dad, I'll need some money before I
+      go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much, son?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, a couple of thousand, just to play safe. And I'll have to leave you a
+      batch of bills to settle for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, son, I'll settle them. Here's your two thousand. You can pay
+      me back out of your winnings on the voyage. And never mind about your note
+      or the assignment of an interest in your inheritance. If I cannot take my
+      own son's word of honor I don't deserve a son. Just take care of yourself,
+      Joey, because if anything should happen to you it would go rather hard
+      with your old man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He wrote Joey a check for two thousand dollars and took an affectionate
+      farewell of his son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now listen to me, my dear young Hotspur,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks commanded him as he
+      shook Joey's hand in farewell. &ldquo;The schooner's name is <i>Tyee</i> and
+      you'll find her at the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company's mill dock in
+      Aberdeen, on Gray's Harbor, Washington. And don't be afraid of her. She
+      was built to weather anything. The skipper's name is Mike Murphy, and if
+      you can't get along with Mike and learn to love him before you're in the
+      ship a week, there's something wrong with you, Joey. Just don't start
+      anything with Mike though, because he always finishes strong, and whatever
+      he does is always right&mdash;with me. When you get out there he'll show
+      you the orders I will have telegraphed him and you have my word of honor,
+      boy, that there'll be no double-crossing and no interference unless you
+      request it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right-o!&rdquo; cried Joey, and was off to earn twenty-five thousand dollars of
+      the easiest money he had ever heard of.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like spearing a fish in a bathtub,&rdquo; murmured Cappy Ricks dreamily, and
+      tore up the fifty-thousand-dollar check he had just written. &ldquo;Joe, if your
+      boy is such easy game for a pair of old duffers like us, just think what
+      soft picking he must have been for that nimble-footed lady with the raven
+      hair, the pearly teeth and the eyes that won't behave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she's coarse and brainless, Alden. I can't imagine a boy like my Joey
+      falling in love with a woman like that. He ought to know better. Just
+      remember how he was raised.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fooey! Joey isn't in love. He only thinks he is, and the reason he thinks
+      it is because she has told him so a hundred times. Can't you just see her
+      looking up at Joey with her startled-fawn eyes and saying: 'Oh, you do
+      love me, don't you, Joey?' As if the fact that Joey loved her constituted
+      the eighth wonder of the world! And she's probably told Joey she'll die if
+      he ever ceases to love her; and he's kind and obliging and wouldn't hurt a
+      fly if he could avoid it. Why, Joe, you old idiot, you mustn't feel that
+      Joey has disgraced himself. Isn't he planning to marry the woman? Only a
+      decent man&mdash;a born idealist&mdash;could hold that designing woman in
+      such reverence. Blamed if it isn't kind of sweet of the boy, although I <i>would</i>
+      love to give him a kick that would jar all his relations&mdash;including
+      his father!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Joe Gurney gazed at Cappy in admiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alden,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;you have a singularly acute knowledge of women.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I employ about fifteen of 'em round my office; I had several narrow
+      escapes in my youth; I have had a sweet and wonderful wife&mdash;and I
+      have a replica of her in my daughter. And I do know young men, for I have
+      been young myself; and I know old fools like you, Joe, because I've never
+      had a son to make an old fool of myself over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, now that you've hooked Joey for a six months' voyage, what's next
+      on the program?&rdquo; Gurney asked after a brief silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy smiled&mdash;a prescient little smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I'm going to pull off a wedding,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I'm going to marry
+      Joey to the sweetest, nicest, healthiest, prettiest, brainiest little lady
+      of twenty summers that ever threatened to put the Ricks organization on
+      the toboggan. She's my private secretary and I've got to get rid of her or
+      some of the young fellows in our office will be killing each other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, here, Alden, my boy, go slow! I ought to be consulted in this
+      matter. Who is this young lady and what are her antecedents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, who's running this layout?&rdquo; Cappy demanded. &ldquo;Didn't you come to me
+      squealing for help? Joe, take a back seat and let me try my hand without
+      any advice from you. The girl's name is Doris Kenyon and she's an orphan.
+      Her father used to be the general manager of my redwood mill on Humboldt
+      Bay, and her mother was a girlhood friend of my late wife's; so naturally
+      I've established a sort of protectorate over her. She has to work for a
+      living, and any time there's a potentially fine, two-million-dollar
+      husband like Joey lying round loose I like to see some deserving working
+      girl land the cuss. As a matter of fact, it's almost a crime to steer her
+      against Joey in his present state. But,&rdquo; Cappy added, &ldquo;I have a notion
+      that before Joey gets rid of that hula-hula girl he's going to be a
+      sadder, wiser and poorer young man than he is at present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your plan, then, is to give Joey six months away from his captor in order
+      that he may forget her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. Absence makes the heart grow colder in cases like the one under
+      discussion, and the sea is a great place for a fellow to do some quiet,
+      sane, uninterrupted thinking. The sea, at night particularly, is
+      productive of much introspection and speculation on the various aspects of
+      life, and in order to make Joey forget this vampire in a hurry all that is
+      necessary is to have a real woman round him for a while. The first thing
+      he knows he'll be making comparisons and the contrast will appall him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet I do. Joey's future wife accompanies him on the voyage, and my
+      bully port captain, Mike Murphy, and his amiable sister go along to
+      chaperone the party and make up a foursome at bridge. I've had a naval
+      architect at work on the old cabin of the <i>Tyee</i>, putting in some
+      extra staterooms, bathrooms, and so on, and in order to make a space for
+      the passengers I subsidized the two squarehead mates into berthing with
+      the crew in the fo'-castle. Doris always did want to take a voyage in one
+      of the Blue Star windjammers, and I had promised to send her at the first
+      convenient opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You deep-dyed, nefarious old villain!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old Cupid Ricks, eh? Well, it's lots of fun, Joe, this butting in on
+      love's young dream. And I'm just so constituted I've got to run other
+      people's affairs for them or I wouldn't be happy. I do think, however,
+      that this house party on the old <i>Tyee</i> is about the slickest deal I
+      have ever put over. Joe, they're going to be right comfortable. I've
+      shipped a maid for the girls, and the cook this time is several degrees
+      superior to the average maritime specimen, for there's nothing like a
+      couple of days of bum cooking to upset tempers&mdash;and I'm taking no
+      chances. Also, just before I left I gave your future daughter-in-law her
+      quarterly dividend&mdash;you see, when her father died I had to sort of
+      look after the family, and I ran a bluff that Kenyon had some Ricks Lumber
+      &amp; Logging Company stock&mdash;you know, Joe. Proud stuff! I had to
+      hornswoggle them. Well, as I say, I gave her the money, and my girl Florry
+      went shopping with her. Sports clothes? Wow! Wow! White skirts, blue
+      jersey, little sailor hat&mdash;man&mdash;oh, man, the stage is set to the
+      last detail! I even had them ship a piano. Doris plays the guitar and has
+      a pleasing voice, and just for good measure I threw in a crackajack
+      cabinet phonograph and a hundred records with enough sentimental drip to
+      sink the schooner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joe Gurney stared at his old friend rather helplessly and shook his head.
+      Such finesse was beyond his comprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, now,&rdquo; Cappy continued, &ldquo;the wisdom of my course? I insisted that
+      you cut off Joey's allowance and get him hungry for money. You did&mdash;and
+      he got hungry. He would have been posted at his clubs in thirty days; it
+      is probable he owed a few bets here and there; his tailor may have needed
+      money. Consequently, by the time I arrived on the scene he was ripe for
+      any legitimate enterprise that would bring him in the needful funds; we
+      arranged the enterprise and he promptly smothered it. Right off, Joe, your
+      son said to himself: 'It will be almost a year before I come into my
+      inheritance, and in the interim I'm going to get married, and a married
+      man who lives on the scale my wife will expect me to assume is going to
+      need a lot more money than a clerkship in his father's shipping office
+      will bring him. Now, there's Tootsy-Wootsy out in Reno with a five months'
+      sentence staring her in the eye before she'll be free to marry me, and I
+      can't very well go out to Reno to visit her without running the risk of
+      incurring my father's displeasure or the tongue of gossip. Consequently, I
+      have five months' time to kill, also, and how better can I kill it than by
+      a jolly sea voyage in a bally old lumber hooker? I can easily win
+      twenty-five thousand dollars from my godfather, and that twenty-five
+      thousand will carry us along until dad turns over my mother's estate to
+      me. Fine business! I'll go to it.' And, Joe, he's done gone! Of course I'm
+      going to win his twenty-five thousand bet because he doesn't know what it
+      means to discharge a vessel in Sobre Vista, and Mike Murphy has orders
+      from me to hire all the available stevedores there to do something else
+      while Joey is trying to hire them to discharge the <i>Tyee</i>. Don't
+      worry, Joe! The country is safe in the capable hands of Mike Murphy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see. And the twenty-five thousand dollars you will win from Joey&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will reimburse me for the extraordinary expense I've been to in saving
+      your son. If Joey's end of the bet doesn't cover I'll nick you, Joseph,
+      although I figure Joey's end of it will pay the fiddler. He won't miss it
+      out of his two millions. Besides, I've noticed that the only experience
+      worth while is the kind you pay real money for&mdash;and Joey has to buy
+      his experience the same as the rest of us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Five days later Cappy Ricks dropped into the Red Funnel Line and laid a
+      telegram on old Joe Gurney's desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that,&rdquo; he commanded, &ldquo;and see if you can't work up a couple of
+      cheers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gurney read:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aberdeen, Wash., June 3, 1916
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alden P. Ricks
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joey arrived bung up and bilge free. Had loaded and hauled into stream,
+      waiting for him. Came out in launch, climbed Jacob's ladder and stood on
+      rail, sizing up ship. Saw Doris and almost fell face down on deck. He says
+      Doris is a dream, she says Joey is a dear. Take it from me, boss, it is
+      all over but the wedding bells.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;M. CUPID MURPHY.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his and shook it
+      heartily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My worries are over, Alden,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;You have, indeed, been my
+      friend in need.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My troubles and Joey's are just commencing, however,&rdquo; Cappy retorted
+      blithely. &ldquo;However&mdash;'never trouble trouble until trouble troubles
+      you' is my motto. Where's that hundred-and-six-foot schooner yacht of
+      Joey's?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's at her moorings in Greenpoint Basin. Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to borrow her for a cruise to San Francisco, via the Panama Canal.
+      Joey and his bride can sail her back. May I have her, to do what I please
+      with, Joe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alden, don't ask foolish questions. Take her and God bless you! Joey owns
+      her, but I pay the bills; so her skipper takes orders from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two days later Joey's schooner <i>Seafarer</i> was standing out to sea
+      past Sandy Hook, but Cappy Ricks was not aboard her, for that ingenious
+      schemer had boarded a train and gone back to San Francisco and his lumber
+      and ships.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks' meditations were interrupted by a knock at the door of his
+      private office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in,&rdquo; he piped, and his son-in-law, Captain Matt Peasley, stuck his
+      head in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>Tyee</i> is sailing in, Cappy,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;The Merchants'
+      Exchange has just telephoned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's an infernal lie,&rdquo; Cappy shrilled excitedly. &ldquo;It can't be the <i>Tyee</i>.
+      If it is, she's two months ahead of her schedule, and by the Holy
+      Pink-Toed Prophet, I fixed up that schedule myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps Joey didn't like your schedule and re-arranged it to suit
+      himself,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible! That infernal young scoundrel put it over me? Preposterous!
+      Why, Mike Murphy was on the job. Get out, Matt, and don't come in here
+      again today throwing scares into the old man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, Cappy's confidence in human nature was badly jarred when
+      Captain Michael J. Murphy was announced two hours later. Indeed Cappy
+      could scarcely credit his sense of sight when the redoubtable Michael
+      entered the room. He glared at the worthy fellow over the rims of his
+      spectacles for fully a minute while Murphy stood fidgeting just inside the
+      doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the Blue Star despot presently, &ldquo;all I've got to say to you,
+      Mike Murphy, is that you're certainly a hell of a seaman to stand idly by
+      and see that young Joey do me up like this. Give an account of yourself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're engaged,&rdquo; Murphy protested valiantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's my work, Mike, not yours. Don't take any credit that isn't coming
+      to you. I want a report on your end of this deal. How does it happen that
+      this boy harpoons me for twenty-five thousand dollars? Have the <i>cargadores</i>
+      at Sobre Vista gone on the water wagon? Did Joey out-bid you for their
+      services? Have they added a lot more lighters to their lighterage fleet?
+      Has the surf quit rolling in on the beach? Have the inhabitants of Sobre
+      Vista been converted to the Mohammedan faith and declined to celebrate
+      saints' days and holy days? Is there smallpox in the town, that the
+      quietus has been put on fiestas and fandangoes, and has Peru been annexed
+      by Chile and the celebration of the national holidays forbidden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Ricks. It's the same old <i>manana</i> burg. The trouble was that
+      Joey is a better sailorman than he appeared to be. He cracked on all the
+      way down and made a smashing voyage, and, of course, as soon as we got
+      there he went ashore. Two other schooners were there ahead of us. One was
+      loading general cargo and the other was discharging it, and when Joey
+      heard they had been there a month he investigated conditions and saw where
+      you had him. Mr. Ricks, he came back as mad as a hatter. Of course I saw
+      he would have to wait until the other schooners were out of the way before
+      he could begin discharging, because they had first call on the lighters;
+      so in view of the situation and the fact that Miss Murphy and Doris were a
+      bit tired of the ship and wanted to go ashore and see the back country, I
+      organized a trip for them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You left Joey aboard the Tyee, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. And there's where I made my fatal break. The minute my back was
+      turned the son of a pirate got busy. It appears there was a six-inch waste
+      pipe leading from the crew's lavatory out under the stern of the ship, and
+      this pipe had rusted away and broken off at the flange just inside the
+      skin of the ship sometime during the vessel's previous voyage. Of course
+      it happened while she was homeward bound in ballast, and was standing so
+      high out of the water that this vent where the pipe was broken was above
+      the waterline; consequently not enough of a leak developed to be
+      noticeable. At the mill dock, however, after we got her under-deck cargo
+      aboard, the vessel had settled until this vent was under water, and
+      immediately she developed a mysterious leak. In fact, due to the enormous
+      pressure, the water came in faster than the pumps could handle it.
+      Fortunately, however, we discovered where the leak was, though it was then
+      too late to mend it. To do so we would have had to take out the under-deck
+      cargo again. So I just whittled out a six-inch wooden plug, fastened it to
+      the end of the boat hook, ran it down the narrow space through which the
+      broken pipe led, found the vent, hammered the plug home, stopped the leak,
+      pumped out the well, finished taking on cargo and sailed for Sobre Vista.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A small leak will sink a great ship,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks murmured. &ldquo;I think I
+      anticipate the blow-off, Mike; but proceed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unfortunately for us that cargo of lumber we had was for the Peruvian
+      government. They were going to use it in the construction of barracks or a
+      new customhouse or something&mdash;and Joey knew this. And he knew about
+      that plug. So the minute my back was turned he pulled out the plug and the
+      water came in and trickled all through the cargo and the ship commenced to
+      settle. But Joey didn't care. He knew a little salt water couldn't hurt
+      the lumber. When the top of the <i>Tyee's</i> rail was flush with the
+      water he plugged the hole again, got his crew busy with the pumps, and by
+      judiciously plugging and unplugging that leak he kept the crew pumping all
+      day and all night without raising the vessel an inch, and the people
+      ashore could see the streams of water cascading overside and the crew
+      pumping like mad. And presently Joey gave up, went ashore, sought the
+      captain of the port and put up a hard luck story about a leak in his ship&mdash;a
+      leak he couldn't find anywhere&mdash;a leak that was getting away from
+      him, because his men were too exhausted to do any more pumping. And he
+      said his ship would get water-logged and settle until the surf began to
+      break over her. And presently the deck lashings would part under the
+      battering of the surf and the deck load would go by the board. Half of it
+      would drift out to sea, and the other half would pound on the beach and
+      get filled with sand, which would dull the saws and planes of the
+      carpenters when they came to cut it up. Also, the ship's cabin would be
+      sure to go, and unless he had help he would have to abandon the vessel and
+      she would lie there, submerged, at anchor, a menace to the navigation of
+      the port.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The scoundrel! The in-fer-nal young scoundrel!&rdquo; cried Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he got away with it, sir. Remember our cargo was for the Peruvian
+      government and they'd had the devil's own time getting it; consequently
+      they couldn't afford to lose any part of it and have their anchorage
+      ground menaced by a derelict. So the captain of the port took it up with
+      the commandant of the local garrison, and the commandant, as Joey
+      expressed it, heard the Macedonian cry and got busy. He commandeered all
+      the lighters the other schooners were using; the soldiers rounded up the
+      <i>cargadores</i> at the point of the bayonet, and they started
+      discharging the American schooner <i>Tyee</i>, with the spiggoty soldiers
+      swelling Joey's crew at the pumps and Joey doing business with that wooden
+      plug according to the requirements. Fortunately there weren't any surf
+      days that week, and the way the cargo poured out of the <i>Tyee</i> was a
+      shame and a disgrace. And when it was all out Joey plugged the leak again,
+      pumped out the ship, and wired me at Mollendo to hurry back with the
+      ladies or he'd sail without me. So you can see for yourself, Mr. Ricks, it
+      was a hard hand to beat. And his luck held. He cracked on all the way home
+      and, as you know, sir, the <i>Tyee</i> is fast in a breeze of wind, and
+      you told me not to interfere unless he asked me to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Despite his disappointment Cappy Ricks lay back in his chair and laughed
+      until he wept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mike,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;it's worth twenty-five thousand dollars to know
+      a boy who can pull one like that. What do you think of him, anyhow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll do. His father has spoiled him, but not altogether. I think a heap
+      of him, sir. Remember I've been shipmates with him a trifle over four
+      months, and that's a pretty good test.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Mike. I forgive you, my boy. I hope Miss Murphy enjoyed the
+      trip. Tell her&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened and Joey Gurney, accompanied by Miss Doris Kenyon entered
+      unannounced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, godfather,&rdquo; yelled Joey joyously. He jerked the old man out of his
+      chair and hugged him. &ldquo;I'm back with your schooner, sir. She was easy to
+      navigate, but that was a cold deck you handed me in Sobre Vista&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad to see you, Joey, glad to see you,&rdquo; Cappy interrupted. &ldquo;Ah, and
+      here's my little secretary again. Miss Kenyon, this is a pleasure&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; Joey interrupted him, &ldquo;the lady's name is no longer Miss
+      Kenyon. She is now Mrs. Joseph K. Gurney, Junior. The minute we got ashore
+      at Meiggs' wharf and could shake the Murphys, who stood out till the last
+      for a church wedding, we chartered a taxicab, went up to the City Hall,
+      procured a license, rounded up a preacher&mdash;and got married. What do
+      you know about that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're as fast as a second-story worker, Joey. I shall kiss the bride.&rdquo;
+       And Cappy did. Then he sat down and stared at the fruit of his cunning
+      labors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, well!&rdquo; cried Joey. &ldquo;Kick in, godfather, kick in. You owe me
+      twenty-five thousand dollars, and if I'm going to support a wife I'll need
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy summoned Mr. Skinner, who felicitated the happy pair and departed
+      pursuant to Cappy's order, to make out a check for Joey.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; said Cappy, as he handed the groom his winnings, &ldquo;you get out
+      of here with your bride, Joey, and I'll telephone Florry and we'll
+      organize a wedding supper. And to-morrow morning, Joey, I'd like to see
+      you at ten o'clock, if you can manage to be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey promised, and hastened away with his bride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      True to his word he presented himself in Cappy's lair promptly at ten next
+      morning. The old gentleman was sitting rigidly erect on the extreme edge
+      of his chair; in his hand he held a typewritten statement with a column of
+      figures on it, and he eyed Joey very appraisingly over the rims of his
+      spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My boy,&rdquo; he said solemnly, &ldquo;sit down. I'm awfully glad you cabled that
+      hula-hula girl of yours in Reno that the stuff was all off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey's mouth flew open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, how did you know?&rdquo; he gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know everything, Joey. I'm that kind of an old man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey paled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; he pleaded, &ldquo;for heaven's sake don't let a whisper of
+      that affair reach my wife.&rdquo; He wrung his hands. &ldquo;I told her she was the
+      only girl I had ever loved&mdash;that I'd never been engaged before&mdash;that
+      I&mdash;oh, godfather, if she ever discovers I've lied to her&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll not discover it. Compose yourself, Joey. I've seen to all that. I
+      knew you'd give Doris the same old song and dance; everybody's doing it,
+      you know, so I took pains to see to it that you'll never have to eat your
+      words.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must have been crazy to engage myself to that woman,&rdquo; Joey wailed. &ldquo;I
+      don't know why I did it&mdash;I don't know how it happened&mdash;Oh, Mr.
+      Ricks, please believe me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do, Joey, I do. I understand perfectly, because at the tender age of
+      twenty-four I proposed marriage to a snake-charmer lady in the old Eden
+      Musee. She was forty years old if she was a day, but she carried her years
+      well and hid the wrinkles with putty, or something. Barring a slight
+      hare-lip, she was a fairly handsome woman&mdash;in the dark.&rdquo; He reached
+      into a compartment of his desk and drew forth a package of letters tied
+      with red ribbon. &ldquo;You can have these, Joey,&rdquo; he announced; &ldquo;only I
+      shouldn't advise keeping them where your wife may find them. They are your
+      letters to your Honolulu lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey let out a bleat of pure ecstacy and seized them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You haven't read them, sir, have you?&rdquo; he queried, blushing desperately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, my boy. I had to, you know, because I was buying something and I
+      wanted to make certain I got value received. Pretty gooey stuff, Joey!
+      Read aloud, they sound like a cow's hoof settling into a wet meadow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so glad she took it sensibly,&rdquo; Joey announced, for he was anxious to
+      change the topic of conversation. &ldquo;I suppose she saw it was the only way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, she didn't, my son. Don't flatter yourself. On your way out West to
+      join the <i>Tyee</i> you wrote her every day on the train. You told her
+      about your bet with me, and who I was and all about me. Lucky for you that
+      you did, and doubly lucky for you that you cabled her the jilt from Sobre
+      Vista, or she would not have come to me with her troubles. Joey, that must
+      have taken courage on your part. It's mighty hard for a gentleman to cable
+      a lady and break an engagement. That's the lady's privilege, Joey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I was desperate, Mr. Ricks. I had to. I had to have her out of
+      the way by the time I got back, or Doris might have found it out. You see,
+      I wanted to clear the atmosphere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you clouded it for fair! You see, Joey, in all those letters it
+      appears that you never once mentioned the words marriage or engagement.
+      But your cablegram was an admission that an engagement existed, and the
+      lady was smart enough to realize that. It appears also that about a week
+      after you cleared for Sobre Vista her annoying husband was killed by a
+      taxicab in New York, so that saved her any divorce proceedings; and when
+      your cablegram reached her she was a single lady who had been heartlessly
+      jilted. The first thing she did was to hire a lawyer, and the first person
+      that lawyer called on was Alden P. Ricks, the old family friend. It
+      appears a suit for breach of promise was to be instituted unless a fairly
+      satisfactory financial settlement could be arrived at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much did she want?&rdquo; Joey barely whispered the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only a million.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much did you settle for? I'll pay it out of my inheritance, Mr.
+      Ricks. Don't worry! I won't see you stuck, for you've stood by me through
+      thick and thin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I didn't give her anything, Joey. I just had her lawyer bring her on
+      to San Francisco for a conference. Of course when lunch time came round
+      and I hadn't heard any proposition I felt I could submit to your father, I
+      invited Miss Fontaine and her lawyer to luncheon with me in the Palace
+      Hotel Grill, and while we were lunching, who should come up and greet me
+      but my old friend, the Duke of Killiekrankie, formerly Duncan MacGregor,
+      first mate of our barkentine <i>Retriever</i>. Mac is an excellent fellow
+      and for some time I had felt he merited promotion. So I made him a duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the duke was awfully glad to see me, and being a gentleman I
+      couldn't do less than introduce him to the lady and her lawyer. He only
+      stayed at our table a minute and then rejoined his friends, but all during
+      the meal I could see Betsy Jane's mind wasn't on her breach-of-promise
+      suit. She asked me several questions about the duke, and I told her I
+      didn't know much about him except that he was sinfully rich and a
+      globe-trotter, and that we'd met in Paris. Lies, Joey, but pardonable, I
+      hope, under the circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Joey, it seems that she and the duke were registered at the same
+      hotel and I'll be shot if his lordship didn't meet her&mdash;by accident,
+      of course&mdash;in the lobby that afternoon. He lifted his hat and she
+      smiled and they had a chat. The next day she cut an engagement with her
+      lawyer and me to go motoring with the duke in my French car, and Florry's
+      chauffeur driving, for, of course, the duke was an expensive luxury and I
+      was trying to save a dollar wherever possible. That night the duke gave a
+      dinner party in honor of the lady&mdash;and he gave it aboard his yacht,
+      the <i>Doris</i>, formerly the <i>Seafarer</i>, right out here in San
+      Francisco harbor&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joey went up and put his arm round Cappy's shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Cappy Ricks, Cappy Ricks!&rdquo; he cried, and then his voice broke and his
+      eyes filled with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; Cappy continued, &ldquo;I had sort o' suspected she might pull that
+      breach-of-promise stuff on you, Joey&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What made you suspect it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I sort of suspected you were going to marry Doris Kenyon&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You planned to get us together on the same ship&mdash;!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only place I could think of where you were safe from the Honolulu lady
+      and couldn't run away from Doris, Joey. Well, as I say, I had sort of
+      suspected she might sue you and disgrace you and break the heart of that
+      little girl I'd picked out for you long before you ever met her&mdash;so I
+      started to get there first and with the heaviest guns, I borrowed your
+      yacht for the duke and had him sail her round himself, so he'd have her
+      here to give the dinner party on. Then I got a Burke's peerage and told
+      MacGregor who he was and had him study up on his family history and get
+      acquainted with his sister, Lady Mary, and his younger brother, the
+      Honorable Cecil Something-or-other&mdash;in particular he was not to
+      forget to rave about the grouse shooting in Scotland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy paused and puffed his cigar meditatively for half a minute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joey,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;any time you run a bluff, run a good one. If you're
+      starring a globe-trotting duke, have his ancestry all straightened out in
+      advance, because he's bound to break into the newspapers and the motto of
+      the newspaper editor is 'Show me.' And the yacht&mdash;just one of the
+      props of the comedy, Joey; and with a little cockney steward in livery to
+      say 'Your ludship'; and the name of the yacht changed in case she'd ever
+      heard you speak about the <i>Seafarer;</i> and the cabin done over in
+      white enamel with mahogany trim; and a new set of dishes with your family
+      crest and the name of the yacht on every piece in case you had ever had
+      her aboard; and a private secretary&mdash;borrowed him from my general
+      manager, Skinner, by the way&mdash;we were certainly there when it came to
+      throwing the ducal front. And we got away with it, for MacGregor's accent
+      is just Scotchy enough, and he comes of good family and has excellent
+      manners. Yes, I must say Mac made a very comfortable duke. Skinner's young
+      man tells me it would bring tears of joy to your eyes to see him kiss the
+      lady's hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Joey, the upshot of it was that after paying violent court to the
+      lady for two weeks&mdash;Mac said he could have pulled the stunt the night
+      of the dinner, for she fell for the title right way, but I told him to
+      make haste slowly&mdash;the duke received a cablegram calling him home
+      from his furlough. Oh, yes, Joey, I had him in the army. Any young
+      unattached duke that doesn't join the British army these days doesn't get
+      by in good society, and I had my duke on a six months' furlough to recover
+      from his wounds. Fortunately a bunch of cedar shingles had fallen on Mac's
+      foot recently and he was dog lame, which strengthened the play.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course the duke was up in the air right away. In a passionate scene he
+      confessed his love for that damsel of yours, Joey, and laid his dukedom at
+      her feet. Would she marry him P. D. Q. and help him sail the yacht home?
+      Would she? 'Oh, darling, this is so sudden!' she cried, and almost swooned
+      in his arms. From a cabaret to a dukedom. Some jump! Sail the yacht home
+      to England through the mine fields and submarines? Perfectly ripping, by
+      Jove! I give you my word, Joey, she tacked on one of those New York
+      British accents for the duke's special benefit. There was a lot of beam to
+      her <i>a</i>'s, Mac told me, but blamed little molded depth to her
+      mentality. So they were married in haste, and after the duke had seen his
+      bride in the elevator bound for their rooms at the hotel, he excused
+      himself to get a highball. And I guess he got the highball, because I find
+      it in this expense account he turned in to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It sounds like a fairy tale,&rdquo; Joey murmured in an awed voice. &ldquo;What did
+      the duke do next?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Came right down to this office and informed me he was, plumb weary of the
+      life of a bon vivant and was anxious to get to sea again. So I made him
+      master of a new steamer we acquired recently, and he's gone out to
+      Vladivostok with munitions for the Russians.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But didn't you give him some money, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Why should I? Didn't I give him command of a steamer? You can slip
+      him a fat check if you feel that way about it, but I never coddle my
+      skippers, Joey, until I'm sure they're worth while. I think, however, that
+      Mac will make good. He's very thorough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wha&mdash;what became of Ernestine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, by Godfrey, that's a sad story, Joey. It seems she waited at the
+      hotel for the duke to come back and he didn't come, so the following
+      morning she went down to the water front looking for the yacht&mdash;and
+      the yacht was gone. During the night I'd had it towed over to Sausalito;
+      consequently the launchman she hired couldn't find it down in Mission Bay,
+      and back to the beach she came. After a couple of days had passed,
+      however, she commenced to smell a rat, so she came down to my office and
+      asked me if I'd seen anything of the duke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Why, yes, I have,' I told her. 'The old duke came in here yesterday
+      afternoon, soused to the guards, and complaining he'd been cruelly
+      deceived into marrying a two-time loser with a couple of youngsters, and
+      inasmuch as he was certain the family wouldn't receive her he was leaving
+      the United States immediately, never to return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'And this morning the justice of the peace who performed the ceremony
+      mailed him the license, which has been duly recorded in the office of the
+      Secretary of State in accordance with law; and inasmuch as the license was
+      sent to him in my care I am holding it in our safe until he calls for it.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Joey, she looked at me and she knew the stuff was all off. She'd
+      married the duke; I had the license to prove it, and of course she
+      realized her breach of promise suit and claim for a million dollars' worth
+      of heart balm would be laughed out of court if she had the crust to
+      present it. So she did the next best thing. She abused me like a
+      pickpocket and ended up by getting hysterical when I told her how I'd
+      swindled her. When she got through crying I lectured her on the error of
+      her ways and suggested that inasmuch as she had had one divorce already,
+      another wouldn't be much of a strain on her, and I'd foot the bill for
+      separating her legally from John Doe, alias the duke, on a charge of
+      desertion. Then I offered her a thousand dollars and a ticket back to New
+      York for the surrender of all your letters to her and that infernal
+      cablegram and a release of all claims against you. I guess she was broke
+      for she grabbed it in a hurry, Joey. The atmosphere is now clear, my son,
+      and nothing further remains to be done in the premises, save settle the
+      bill of expense. Fortunately the <i>Tyee</i> made money on that fast
+      voyage under your command, but the cost of bringing the yacht round from
+      New York, doing over the cabin, buying the new dishes with the crest, and
+      settling with the lady should rightfully be borne by you. As I say, the
+      duke was expensive, for the rascal certainly rolled 'em high. Skinner has
+      made me up a statement of the total cost, with interest at six per cent to
+      date, and it appears, Joey, that you owe your godfather $12,143.18. On the
+      day you come into your inheritance, add six per cent to that sum and send
+      me a check.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the twenty-five thousand dollars I won from you&mdash;&rdquo; Joey began,
+      but Cappy held up a rigid finger, enjoining silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to stick your dub of a father for that, as a penance for his
+      sins of omission, Joey; for by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if ever a boy
+      won a bet and was entitled to it, you're that young man. In-fer-nal young
+      scoundrel! Keep it and split fifty-fifty with your wife. You won a
+      straight bet from a crooked gambler, and if I haven't had a million
+      dollars' worth of fun out of this transaction I hope I may marry a
+      hula-hula woman&mdash;and I've passed my three score and ten and ought to
+      know better!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But about this man MacGregor&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't worry about him. The Scotch are a hardy race and Mac is a sailor.
+      Joey, I know sailors. The scoundrels have a wife in every port!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      During the period when Joey Gurney was busy doing all that Cappy Ricks
+      desired him to do and some things that were slightly off Cappy's program,
+      the president emeritus of the Blue Star Navigation Company and allied
+      interests was discovering that it is one thing to declare for the simple
+      life and quite another to live it. The Great War challenged so much of the
+      Ricks interest that he could not bear to live far from morning and evening
+      editions&mdash;and he wanted them red hot off the presses. Things were
+      doing in the shipping world. The most inconceivable trades were being
+      consummated daily, freights were soaring, lumber prices had reached an
+      unprecedentedly high level and promised to go higher; there was something
+      doing every minute and not enough minutes in a working day to accommodate
+      half of these somethings. What more natural, therefore, than that Cappy
+      presently should find himself caught in the maelstrom, even though he told
+      himself daily that, come what might <i>he</i> would keep out of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first indefinite evidence that he was about to be engulfed came in the
+      form of a newspaper story, ex the steamer <i>Timaru</i>, from Sydney, via
+      Tahiti. There it was, as big as a church&mdash;a paragraph of it, tucked
+      away in a column-and-a-half story of the bombardment of Papeete by the
+      German Pacific fleet early in September of 1914:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An incident of the bombardment was the sinking of the German freight
+      steamer <i>Valkyrie</i> by shells from the German fleet. The vessel had
+      been captured by the French gunboat <i>Zeile</i> some weeks previous and
+      was at anchor in the harbor, under the guns of the <i>Zeile</i>, when the
+      German squadron appeared off the entrance. The gunboat immediately was
+      made the target for the German guns, and sunk. During the attack, however,
+      a wild shell missed the <i>Zeile</i> and struck the <i>Valkyrie</i>,
+      tearing a great hole in her hull and causing her to sink in ten fathoms at
+      her anchorage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten fathoms! Sixty feet! Why, at that depth Cappy should have known that
+      her masts and funnel would be above water; that in all probability she
+      carried war-risk insurance; that she was so far from anywhere the
+      underwriters would have abandoned her, even had she not been a prize of
+      war, since there are no appliances in Papeete for salving a vessel of her
+      size; that she could be raised if one cared to spend a little money on
+      doing it; that one projectile probably had not ruined her beyond repair;
+      that she was a menace to navigation in Papeete Harbor and hence would have
+      to be gotten out of the way, either by dynamite or auction; that&mdash;well,
+      any number of thats should have occurred to Cappy Ricks to suggest the
+      advisability of keeping track of the wreck of the <i>Valkyrie</i>.
+      However, for some mysterious reasons&mdash;his resentment against the
+      German cause, probably&mdash;the golden prospect never appealed to him,
+      for when he had finished reading the article he merely said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what do you know about that? Skinner, it's a mighty lucky thing for
+      that German admiral that I'm not the Kaiser, for I'd certainly make him
+      hard to catch. The idea of sinking that fine steamer&mdash;and a German
+      steamer at that! Here was the little old French gunboat, about as
+      invulnerable as a red-cedar shingle; and instead of moving into proper
+      position and raking her with their light guns&mdash;instead of calling on
+      her to surrender&mdash;these Germans had to go to work in a hurry and
+      inaugurate a campaign of frightfulness. The minute they were off the
+      harbor&mdash;Zowie! Blooey! Bam! It was all over but the cheering, and
+      they'd chucked an eight-inch projectile through a ship that was worth four
+      of the gunboat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, that's what I call spilling the beans. Why they didn't take
+      their time, recapture that freighter and give her skipper a chance to
+      hustle across to San Francisco or Honolulu and intern, is a mystery to me.
+      The idea! Why, for that German fleet to waste ammunition on that Jim-Crow
+      town and a hand-me-down gunboat was equivalent to John L. Sullivan
+      whittling out a handle on a piece of two-by-four common fir in order to
+      attack a cockroach!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy was so incensed that he growled about the Germans for an hour. Then
+      he forgot the <i>Valkyrie</i>, notwithstanding the fact that the press
+      jogged his memory again when the German fleet, deciding that prudence was
+      the better part of valor, fled from the Pacific to escape the Japanese,
+      only to be destroyed in the South Atlantic by the British fleet. A resume
+      of the operations of the German squadron in the Pacific brought forth
+      mention of the destruction of the <i>Zeile</i> and the <i>Valkyrie</i>.
+      However, Cappy's mind was not in Tahiti now, but off the Falkland Islands,
+      for he was very much pro-Ally and devoted more thought to military and
+      naval strategy than he did to the lumber and shipping business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, the climax of Cappy's indignation over the disaster to the <i>Valkyrie</i>
+      was not attained until a few months later when, in conversation on the
+      floor of the Merchants' Exchange with the skipper of the schooner <i>Tarus</i>,
+      who happened to have been in Papeete at the bombardment, he learned he had
+      done the German admiral a grave injustice. He came back to his office,
+      boiling, declaring the French were a crazy nation, and that, after all, he
+      could recall meeting one or two fine Germans during the course of a fairly
+      busy career. He summoned Mr. Skinner and Matt Peasley to hear the sordid
+      tale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remember that steamer <i>Valkyrie</i> the Germans were supposed to have
+      sunk by accident in the harbor of Papeete during the bombardment in
+      September of 1914?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe I read something about it in the papers at the time,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Skinner replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about her?&rdquo; Matt Peasley demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, the Germans didn't sink her at all, Matt! The Frenchmen did it,&rdquo;
+       Cappy shrilled. &ldquo;The crazy, frog-eating jumping-jacks of Frenchmen! The
+      tramp wasn't flying the German flag&mdash;naturally the Frenchmen had
+      hauled it down; so the Germans didn't investigate her. Besides, they were
+      in a hurry&mdash;you'll remember the Japs were on their trail at the time;
+      so they just devoted forty minutes to shooting up the town, and beat it. I
+      don't suppose they ever knew they hit the <i>Valkyrie</i>; perhaps they
+      figured that, having sunk the gunboat, the <i>Valkyrie</i> could up hook
+      and away at her leisure, since there was nothing left to prevent her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh! Makes me sick to talk about it; but the skipper of the <i>Taurus</i>
+      was there at the time and he tells me that, though the <i>Valkyrie</i> was
+      pretty well down by the stern, her bulkheads were holding and she wouldn't
+      have sunk if those blamed Frenchmen, fearful that the German fleet was
+      coming back after her, hadn't gone aboard and opened her sea cocks! Yes,
+      sir. Rather than risk having her recaptured, they opened her sea cocks and
+      sunk her! And, at that, they didn't have sense enough to run her out to
+      deep water. No! They had to do the trick as she lay at anchor; and there
+      she lies still, a menace to navigation and a perennial reminder to those
+      Papeete Frenchmen that he who acts in haste will repent at leisure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To this outburst Mr. Skinner made some perfunctory remark, attributing the
+      situation to a lack of efficiency, while Matt Peasley went back to his
+      office and grieved as he reflected on the corrosive action of salt water
+      on those fine, seven-year-old engines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Time passed. Mr. Skinner developed a pallor and irritability that bespoke
+      all too truly an attack of nerves, from overwork, and sore against his
+      will was hustled off to Honolulu for a rest while Cappy Ricks had the
+      audacity to take charge of the lumber business. Whereupon Mr. J. Augustus
+      Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, discovered the unprotected
+      condition of the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company and promptly, in sheer
+      wanton deviltry, proceeded to sew Cappy Ricks up on an order for a million
+      grape stakes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A word here regarding the said J. Augustus Redell. He was a blithe, joyous
+      creature, still in the sunny thirties, and what he didn't know about the
+      lumber business&mdash;particularly the marketing of lumber products&mdash;could
+      be tucked into anybody's eyes without impairing their eyesight. Mr. Redell
+      had fought his way up from office boy with the Black Butte Lumber Company
+      to lumber broker with offices of his own. He had owned a retail yard in
+      which business he had gone &ldquo;bust&rdquo; for more money than the world appeared
+      to contain. But he had fought his way back and paid a hundred cents on the
+      dollar, including some hundred and forty thousand dollars he had owed the
+      Ricks mills at the time of his collapse. Because he was young and fine and
+      good-natured and brave and brilliant, Cappy had always admired J. Augustus
+      Redell, but after the latter had so splendidly re-established his credit
+      and formed a partnership with a Peruvian gentleman, one Senor Luiz
+      Almeida, known locally as Live Wire Luiz, Cappy found that he had for the
+      genial J. Augustus an admiration that amounted to affection. The West
+      Coast Trading Company, under which title Live Wire Luiz and J. Augustus
+      Redell did a lumber brokerage business with Mexico, Central American and
+      South American countries principally, had Cappy Ricks' entire confidence,
+      although he would have died rather than admit this. Live Wire Luiz he
+      ignored and always dismissed as a factor in the affairs of that company,
+      but whenever Redell had a deal on that was too heavy for his financial
+      sinews, Cappy could always be depended upon to lend a helping hand. On his
+      part, Redell revered Cappy Ricks as only an idealistic and naturally
+      lovable rascal of a boy can revere an idealistic and lovable old man. To
+      J. Augustus Redell little, old, naive, whimsical, gentle, terrible,
+      brilliant, cunning, generous, altruistic, prudent, youthful old Cappy
+      Ricks was a joy forever. With the impishness of his tender years, Mr.
+      Redell could conceive of no greater joy than picking on Cappy Ricks just
+      to see the latter fight back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite early in their friendship, the astute Redell discovered a rift in
+      Cappy's armor&mdash;two rifts, in fact. The first was that Cappy feared
+      and loathed old age and fiercely resented even the most shadowy intimation
+      that with age he was, to employ a sporting phrase, &ldquo;losing his punch.&rdquo; The
+      second weakness that lay exposed to Redell was Cappy's passion for
+      wringing a profit, by ingenious means, from apparently barren soil where
+      no profit had ever hitherto burgeoned. At heart Cappy was a speculator;
+      only the fact that he was a prudent and careful speculator had conduced to
+      enrich him rather than impoverish him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now, Cappy was fully convinced, from optical evidence, that J. Augustus
+      Redell was a gambler. He admired Redell's genius for business, the
+      soundness of his decisions, the alertness of his mind and the brilliance
+      of his financial <i>coups</i>, but&mdash;he deprecated the younger man's
+      daring. Cappy called it recklessness. By degrees the old gentleman had
+      come to assume a proprietary interest in Gus Redell and the latter's
+      affairs, for the younger man frequently sought counsel from Cappy and not
+      infrequently, a loan! Cappy knew his young friend to be the soul of manly
+      honor, but&mdash;he was young! Ah, yes! He was young. Ergo, he was
+      foolish. True, his foolishness had not as yet been discovered, but Cappy
+      was certain it would come to the surface sooner or later. The boy was
+      reckless&mdash;a gambler. Cappy abhorred gambling. He never gambled.
+      Occasionally he speculated! What more natural, therefore, than that little
+      Cappy should presently arrogate to himself the privilege of stabbing young
+      J. Augustus to the vitals from time to time, just to impress upon the boy
+      the knowledge that this is a hard, cold, cruel world with a great many bad
+      men in it!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could possibly have delighted Redell more. Whenever Cappy stabbed
+      him, forthwith he set about to stab Cappy in return, and thus had
+      developed a joyous business feud. These best of friends spent an hour and
+      a half daily, at luncheon, &ldquo;picking&rdquo; on each other, telling tales on each
+      other, eternally &ldquo;joshing&rdquo; for the edification of a coterie of their
+      lumber and shipping friends who always lunched in a private dining room at
+      the Commercial Club and who were known within that organization as the
+      Bilgewater Club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in 1915 Redell had seen an opportunity for inducing Cappy Ricks to
+      speculate in grape stakes&mdash;to his financial hurt and humiliation.
+      There was to be an election that fall&mdash;a special election to see
+      whether California should &ldquo;go dry&rdquo; or &ldquo;stay wet,&rdquo; and for some reason not
+      quite apparent to Mr. Redell, a great many people believed the state would
+      &ldquo;go dry.&rdquo; Among the people who so believed, Redell discovered, were the
+      woodsmen who, during the winter of 1914, would, under normal conditions,
+      have split from redwood trees sufficient grape stakes to support such new
+      vineyards as would come into bearing in the fall of 1915. Fearing that
+      there would be no market for their grape stakes when the making of wine
+      should be prohibited by law, these woodsmen had made no effort to supply
+      the demand; wherefore the Machiavellian J. Augustus Redell, taking
+      advantage of Mr. Skinner's absence from the office of the Ricks mills,
+      cleverly managed to inculcate in Cappy Ricks the idea that it would be a
+      splendid and profitable venture if he, the said Cappy, should wade into
+      the grape stake market and corner it. The idea appealed to the speculative
+      part of the old gentleman's nature and he had gone to work in a hurry,
+      only to discover, after he had accepted orders from the West Coast Trading
+      Company for a great many carloads of grape stakes for future delivery,
+      that, when the day of reckoning should come, he would not be enabled to
+      pick up enough grape stakes to fill his orders, for the very sufficient
+      reason that nobody had manufactured grape stakes for that year's market,
+      and they were not available at any price!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It had been a cruel blow and Cappy's weakness had been exposed without
+      mercy to the members of the Bilgewater Club by Mr. Redell, who thereafter
+      kept both eyes wide open, knowing that sooner or later Cappy would
+      retaliate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Retaliation was, of course, inevitable. Cappy realized this. For the first
+      time in his career as a lumber and shipping king the sly old dog realized
+      he had been out-thought, out-played, out-gamed and man-handled by a mere
+      pup. And, though he had taken his beating like the rare old sport that he
+      was, nevertheless the leaves of memory had a horrible habit of making a
+      most melancholy rustling; and for two weeks, following his ignominious
+      rout at the hands of J. Augustus Redell, Cappy's days and nights were
+      entirely devoted to scheming ways and means of vengeance. Curiously
+      enough, it was the West Coast Trading Company that accorded him the
+      opportunity he craved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having massacred Cappy in the grape-stake deal and established an
+      unlimited credit thereby, the West Coast Lumber Company, per Senor Felipe
+      Luiz Almeida, alias Live Wire Luiz, decided to purchase a little jag of
+      spruce from the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company. Cappy Ricks looked at
+      the proffered order, saw that it called for number one clear spruce, and
+      promptly accepted it at a dollar under the market. He was to bring the
+      spruce in to San Francisco on one of his own schooners, lay her alongside
+      the <i>City of Panama</i> and discharge it into her, for delivery at
+      Salina Cruz, Mexico.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy knew, of course, that Live Wire Luiz handled exclusively the West
+      Coast Trading Company's Mexican, Central and South American business. He
+      knew, also, that there were many points about the lumber business that the
+      explosive little Peruvian had still to learn; so he decided to stab the
+      West Coast Trading Company, through the innocent and trusting Senor
+      Almeida, with a weapon he would not have dreamed of employing had J.
+      Augustus Redell placed the order. Live Wire Luiz knew the Ricks Lumber
+      &amp; Logging Company always sold its output on mill tally and inspection;
+      that Cappy Ricks' grading rules were much fairer to his customers than
+      those of his competitors; that when he contracted to deliver number one
+      clear spruce he would deliver exactly that and challenge anybody to pick a
+      number two board out of the lot. But what Live Wire Luiz did not know was
+      that there are two kinds of number one spruce on the Pacific Coast. One
+      grows in California and the other in Oregon and Washington&mdash;and Cappy
+      Ricks had both kinds for sale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aha!&rdquo; Cappy murmured as he glanced over Live Wire Luiz's order after the
+      latter had gone. &ldquo;Number one clear spruce, eh? All right, sir! Away down
+      in my wicked heart I know you want some nice number one stock from our
+      Washington mill, at Port Hadlock; but unfortunately you have failed to
+      stipulate it&mdash;so we'll slip you a little of the California product
+      and teach you something you ought to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whereupon Cappy sent the order to his mill on Humboldt Bay, California.
+      Though this plant manufactured redwood lumber almost exclusively, whenever
+      the woods boss came across a nice spruce or bull-pine tree among the
+      redwood he was wont to send it down to the mill, where it was sawed and
+      set aside for trusting individuals like Live Wire Luiz. When seasoned this
+      spruce was very good stock. Unfortunately, however, experts differ in
+      their diagnosis of California spruce. There are those who will tell you it
+      is not spruce, but a bastard fir; while others will tell you it is not
+      fir, but a bastard spruce. Cappy Ricks had no definite ideas on the
+      subject, for he didn't own enough of that kind of stumpage to grieve him.
+      All he knew or cared was that when such outlawed stock was billed as
+      spruce no judge or jury in the land could say it was fir; also, that in
+      its green state it possessed an abominable odor!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lumber was delivered to the <i>City of Panama</i> in due course and,
+      as Cappy had suspected, Live Wire Luiz failed to come down to her dock and
+      take a smell. This was a privilege left intact for the consignee at Salina
+      Cruz; and he, according to Mexican custom, which only demands a ghost of
+      an excuse to seek a rebate, promptly wired a protest and declared himself
+      swindled to the extent of five dollars a thousand feet, gold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Also, having been similarly outraged once before, he demanded to know why
+      he had been sent California spruce; whereupon Live Wire Luiz called up
+      Cappy Ricks, abused him roundly and sent him a bill for six dollars a
+      thousand, rebate! Unfortunately for the West Coast Trading Company,
+      however, it had already discounted Cappy's invoice; so the latter could
+      afford to stand pat&mdash;which he did.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Shortly after noon on the day of his small triumph over the West Coast
+      Trading Company, Cappy Ricks bustled up California Street, bound for
+      luncheon with the Bilgewater Club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this day, of all days, Cappy would not have missed luncheon with the
+      Bilgewater Club for a farm. As he breezed along there was a smile on his
+      ruddy old face and a lilt in his kind old heart, for he was rehearsing his
+      announcement to his youthful friends of how he had but recently tanned the
+      hide of a brother! He almost laughed aloud as he pictured himself solemnly
+      relating, in the presence of J. Augustus Redell and Live Wire Luiz, the
+      tale of the ill-favored spruce, excusing his own mendacity the while on
+      the ground that he wasn't a mind reader; that if the West Coast Lumber
+      Company desired northern spruce they should have stipulated northern
+      spruce; that, as alleged business men, it was high time they were made
+      aware of the ancient principle of <i>caveat emptor</i>, which means, as
+      every schoolboy knows, that the buyer must protect himself in the clinches
+      and breakaways. And lastly, he planned to claim it the solemn duty of the
+      aged to instruct the young and ignorant in the hard school of experience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Judge, therefore, of his disappointment when, on entering the lobby of the
+      Merchants' Exchange Building, on the two top floors of which the
+      Commercial Club is situated, he encountered Redell and Live Wire Luiz
+      leaving the elevator.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The West Coast Trading Company had offices in the same building and, as
+      Redell carried a plethoric suit case, while Live Wire Luiz followed with a
+      small hand bag, Cappy realized they were bound for parts unknown. In
+      consequence of which he realized he had rehearsed to no purpose his expose
+      of the pair before the Bilgewater Club. He halted the partners and secured
+      a firm grip on the lapel of each.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cowards!&rdquo; he sneered. &ldquo;Running out on me, eh? By Judas Priest, I just
+      knew you didn't dast to stay and hear me tell the boys about that spruce.
+      Drat you! The next time you'll know the difference between attar of roses
+      and California spruce!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell put down his suit case, pulled out his watch, glanced at it and
+      then at his partner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I tell him, Luiz?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Live Wire Luiz thereupon consulted his watch, scratched his ear and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friend of my heart, do you theenk eet ees safe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. He isn't a bit dangerous, Luiz. He's lost all his teeth and all
+      he can do now is sit and bay at the moon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Live Wire Luiz shrugged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I theenk maybe so you are right, <i>amigo mio</i>. The steamer she will
+      go to depart in half an hour, an' that ees not time for thees ol'
+      high-binder to do somet'ing. Eet ees what you call one stiff li'l' order.
+      I admit thees spruce bandit ees pretty smart, but&mdash;&rdquo; again Live Wire
+      Luiz shrugged his expressive shoulders&mdash;&ldquo;he ees pretty ol', no? I
+      theenk to myself he have lose&mdash;what you call heem? ah, yes, he have
+      lose hees punch!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear he has, Luiz; so I'll tell him. At least the knowledge will gravel
+      him and take all the joy out of that stinking little spruce swindle of
+      his.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twon't neither!&rdquo; Gappy challenged. &ldquo;I stung you there&mdash;drat your
+      picture!&mdash;and I'm glad I did it. I rejoice in my wickedness. Cost you
+      five hundred dollars for making a monkey out of the old man in that
+      grape-stake deal, Gus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said Redell wonderingly, &ldquo;I thought you'd forgiven me that, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I have; but I haven't forgotten. Expect me to lose my self-respect and
+      forget about it? No, sir! When I go into a deal and emerge in the red, I
+      take a look at my loss-and-gain account and forget it; but when I'm
+      ravished of my self&mdash;respect-wow! Look out below and get out from
+      under! In-fer-nal young scoundrel! If I don't show you two before I die
+      that I haven't lost my punch I'll come back from the grave to ha'nt you.
+      Go on and spin your little tale, Augus-tus. You can't tell me anything
+      that'll make me mad. What you got on your mind besides your hair, Gus? Out
+      with it, boy; out with it! I'm listening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Cappy came close to Redell and inclined his head close to the young
+      fellow's breast; whereupon Redell put his lips close to Cappy's ear and
+      answered hoarsely:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm going to Papeete to bid in that sunken German steamer, <i>Valkyrie</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Is that all? Well, when you return from Papeete you're
+      going to take another journey right away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Into the bankruptcy court first, and then up to the Home for the
+      Feeble-Minded. On the level, boy, you're overdue at the foolish farm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take a chance, Cappy. All you old graybeards can do is sit on the
+      fence and decry the efforts of the rising generation. You just croak and
+      knock. Of course I admit that once on a time an opportunity couldn't fly
+      by you so fast you wouldn't get some of the tail feathers; but that was a
+      long time ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused and glanced at his partner. Sorrowfully Live Wire Luiz tapped
+      his forehead with his brown, cigarette-stained forefinger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Senile decay!&rdquo; Redell murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure; I bet you, Mike!&rdquo; Live Wire Luiz answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He wagged his head lugubriously, turned aside and affected to wipe away a
+      vagrant tear with his salmon-colored silk handkerchief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here!&rdquo; Cappy rasped. &ldquo;This thing is getting personal. Never mind
+      about my years, you pup. If my back is bent a trifle it's from carrying a
+      load of experience and other people's mistakes. And never mind about my
+      noodle! It may have a few knots and shakes in it, but they're tight and
+      sound, and it's free of pitch pockets, wane and rotten streaks; so this
+      old head grades as merchantable timber still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As for your head, Gus, and that of this human firecracker with you, both
+      have streaks of sap round the edges, and I'll prove it to you yet. No; on
+      second thought I don't have to prove it. You've already done that
+      yourself! You're going to Papeete to try to bid in the <i>Valkyrie</i>,
+      and she's junk!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Partly.&rdquo; Redell admitted. &ldquo;She's been under water about two years and I
+      suppose the teredo have digested her upper works by now; but they can be
+      rebuilt quickly and without a great deal of expense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about her boilers? You'll have to retube them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think so. I was talking with Captain Hippard, of the
+      Morrison-Hippard Line. They had the steamer <i>Chinook</i> under water a
+      year in Norton Sound, but they raised her and brought her to San Francisco
+      under her own steam. You know, Cappy, it's the combination of water and
+      air that makes iron and steel rust. It seems that when a boiler is under
+      water and not exposed to the air it rusts very slowly; also, the rust is
+      like a soft film&mdash;it doesn't pit and scale off in great flakes. And a
+      couple of years under water will not do any appreciable damage to the <i>Valkyrie's</i>
+      boilers. The <i>Chinook</i> is running yet, notwithstanding the fact that
+      fifteen years ago she was submerged for a year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh!&rdquo; Cappy grunted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same condition, of course, holds true with regard to her hull, only
+      more so,&rdquo; Redell continued. &ldquo;The paint will protect the hull perfectly. Of
+      course if, after getting her up, she is permitted to lie exposed to the
+      air, the soft film of rust will promptly harden and scale off and she'll
+      go to glory in a few months. However, nothing like that will happen,
+      because the minute she's up she'll be thoroughly cleaned and scrubbed and
+      painted. Of course the asbestos cover will have peeled off her boilers,
+      but even at that I'll bring her to San Francisco under her own steam.
+      She'll just be ungodly hot below decks and a hog for coal until the
+      boilers are re-covered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy sighed. He was not prepared to combat this argument, for he had a
+      sneaking impression Redell was right. However, he returned undaunted to
+      the attack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's shot full of holes,&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has one hole through her, and when she's loaded light that hole is
+      above water line. The wrecking vessel that goes down to salve her will
+      have steel plates, tools and mechanics aboard, and new plates can be put
+      in temporarily. And if that cannot be done those holes can be patched with
+      planking and cemented over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, all right. Grant that. But think of her engines, Gus. Think of
+      those fine, smooth bearings and polished steel rods all corroded and
+      pitted by salt water. The water may not have a disastrous effect on the
+      boilers and hull, but an engine can't stand any rust at all and still
+      remain one hundred per cent efficient. I tell you I know, Gus. I had my <i>Amelia
+      Ricks</i> submerged on Duxbury Reef for a week; then I hauled her off and
+      she lay on the tide flats in Mission Bay another three weeks until I could
+      patch her up and float her into the dry dock. Do you know what it cost me
+      to make her engines over again? Thirteen thousand dollars, young man&mdash;and,
+      at that, they're nothing to brag of now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite right; but that's because you didn't employ a German engineer and
+      tell him you were going to put the <i>Amelia Ricks</i> on Duxbury Reef.
+      Are you familiar with the characteristics of German engineers, Cappy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy threw up both hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm neutral, Gus. Between them and the French it's a case of heads I win,
+      tails you lose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, Cappy. You're wrong. The Germans are a careful, thrifty,
+      painstaking, systematic race, and the chief of the <i>Valkyrie</i> was the
+      flower of the flock. When that little French gunboat captured her this
+      chief engineer looked into the future and saw himself and the <i>Valkyrie</i>
+      interned indefinitely&mdash;and he didn't like it. It just broke his heart
+      to think of a stranger messing round among his engines; so the instant he
+      got into Papeete and blew down his boilers he did a wise thing. He knew
+      the war risk insurance would probably cover the <i>Valkyrie's</i> loss as
+      a war prize, but there was a chance that her German owners might send one
+      of their hyphenated brethren down to Papeete to buy her in the prize
+      court; and if that happened the chief wanted them to have a good ship.
+      Perhaps, also, he figured on getting his old job back after the war. At
+      any rate he got out a barrel of fine heavy grease and slobbered up his
+      engines for fair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was too much. Cappy Ricks was too fine a sport not to acknowledge a
+      beating; he was too generous not to rejoice in a competitor's gain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lucky, lucky scoundrel!&rdquo; he murmured in an awed voice. &ldquo;Not enough
+      salt water will get through that grease to hurt those engines. Gus, how
+      did you find this all out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can bet your whiskers, Cappy, I didn't depend on hearsay
+      evidence and water-front reporters to dig it up for me. The minute I heard
+      her sea cocks had been opened and that her funnels and masts were sticking
+      up out of the harbor I concluded I was interested; so I sent Bill Jinks,
+      of our office, down to Papeete to get me some first-hand information. The
+      chief of the <i>Valkyrie</i> is interned there, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May mad dogs bite me! Why in the name of all that's sweet and holy didn't
+      I have sense enough to do that?&rdquo; Cappy mourned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have lose the punch!&rdquo; chirped Live Wire Luiz, and Cappy glared at
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's an honest vessel, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what you s'pose she have in her?&rdquo; Live Wire Luiz demanded. &ldquo;Oh,
+      notheeng very much, Senor Ricks. Just two t'ousand tons of phosphate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Worth ten or twelve dollars a ton, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' t'irteen hundred tons of the good coal to bring her to San Francisco,
+      <i>Ai</i>, Santa Maria!&rdquo; Live Wire Luiz blew a kiss airily into space and
+      added: &ldquo;I die weeth dee-light!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You haven't got her yet,&rdquo; Cappy snapped viciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but we'll get her all right,&rdquo; Redell declared confidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How'll you get her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We've only one real competitor to buck&mdash;an Australian steamship
+      company. They're crazy to get her; and as there are no French bidders on
+      this side of the world, naturally and in view of the present condition of
+      world politics the French authorities in Papeete are pulling for the
+      Britisher. Jinks is now in Papeete and I'm about to start for there at one
+      o'clock. Two bids, Cappy; I'll be the dark horse and file my bid at the
+      last minute, after I've sized up the lay of the land. But, before I do so,
+      I'm going to take the representative of that Australian steamship company
+      into my confidence and find out what he's going to bid. For instance, now,
+      Cappy, if you were bidding against me, how high would you go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's a long way from nowhere,&rdquo; Cappy replied thoughtfully. &ldquo;It means
+      sending a wrecking steamer down there with a lot of expert wreckers,
+      divers, mechanics and carpenters; it means lumber for cofferdam and
+      pontoons; it means donkey engines, cables, pumps, the stress of wind and
+      wave&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She lies in a protected cove, Cappy; the mean rise and fall of the tide,
+      so close to the equator, is about eighteen inches, and the water is so
+      clear you can always see what the divers are doing. Forget the stress of
+      wind and wave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forty thousand dollars would be my top figure if I were the Australian
+      bidder,&rdquo; Cappy declared, and added to himself: &ldquo;But, as Alden P. Ricks,
+      seventy-five might not stagger me in view of the present freight rates.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just what I figured,&rdquo; Redell answered. &ldquo;She'll cost us two hundred
+      thousand dollars before we get her in commission again. I figure the
+      Australian people will not go over forty thousand dollars. They won't
+      figure Jinks as a heavyweight. I told him to create the impression that he
+      was a professional wrecker&mdash;a sort of fly-by-night junk dealer, who
+      would buy the vessel if he could get her at a great bargain. Then I'll
+      drop quietly into Papeete, and at the eleventh hour fifty-ninth minute
+      I'll slip in a bid that will top the Australian's. If by any chance Jinks'
+      bid should also top the Australian's I'll just forfeit the certified check
+      for ten per cent of my bid, run out and leave the ship to Jinks, the next
+      highest bidder. The chances are I'll make a few thousand dollars at that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you purpose raising her&mdash;provided you are the successful
+      bidder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she has four hatches and she lies on an even keel. I'll build a
+      coffer dam on her deck round these four hatches and pump her out. If we
+      have enough pumps we can pump her out faster than the water can leak in
+      under the coffer dam. When I've lightened her somewhat I'll kick her into
+      the shore, little by little, until she lies in shallow water with her
+      bulwarks above the surface. Then I'll patch the holes in her, pump her out&mdash;and
+      up she'll come, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say that so glibly,&rdquo; Gappy growled, &ldquo;one would almost think you could
+      whistle it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't feel sore, Cappy. Do you know what a vessel of her age and class is
+      worth nowadays? Well, I'll tell you. About sixty dollars a ton, dead
+      weight capacity&mdash;and the <i>Valkyrie</i> can carry seven thousand
+      tons; that's four hundred and twenty thousand dollars&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you can get her up,&rdquo; Cappy interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I bid her in I'll get her up. Don't worry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      '&ldquo;It'll clean you of your bank roll to do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course. Luiz and I aren't millionaires like you; so we'll just form a
+      corporation and call it the S. S. Valkyrie Company and sell stock in our
+      venture. I have you down right now for a ten-thousand-dollar subscription
+      at the very least, though you can have more if you want it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gus,&rdquo; Cappy pleaded, &ldquo;if you bid that boat in for forty thousand dollars
+      I'll give you ten thousand dollars for your bargain and reimburse you for
+      all the expense you've been put to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing doing, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll make it&mdash;let me see&mdash;I'll make it twenty thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You waste your breath. She'll pay for herself the first year she's in
+      commission.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll furnish the sinews of war, Gus, for a half interest in her. Let me
+      add her to the Blue Star Fleet and you'll never regret it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorry, Cappy; but Luiz and I are ambitious. We want to get into the
+      steamship business ourselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, I've offered to do the fair thing by you two lunatics,&rdquo; Cappy
+      declared with a great air of finality. &ldquo;So now I'll deliver my ultimatum:
+      I'm going to keep the <i>Valkyrie</i> and not give you two as much as one
+      little piece of her. Yes, sir! I'm going to send a representative to
+      Papeete and match you and that Australian chap for your shoe-strings. Gus,
+      you know me! If I ever go after a thing and don't get it, the man that
+      takes it away from me will know he's been in a fight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, I know it, Cappy&mdash;which is why I kept this information
+      carefully to myself. However, I guess you'll not get in on this good
+      thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're too late for the banquet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not one leetle hope ees left for you, Cappy Reeks,&rdquo; Senor Almeida
+      asserted. &ldquo;The <i>Moana</i>, on which my good partner have engaged passage
+      to-day, ees the last steamer which shall arrive to Papeete before the bids
+      shall be open. The next steamer, Capitan Reeks ees arrive too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and the <i>Moana</i> sails in just twenty-five minutes, Cappy. If
+      you're thinking of sending a man down to bid against me you'll have to
+      step lively.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks was now beside himself; this gentle, good-natured heckling had
+      made of him a venerable Fury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll cable my bid!&rdquo; he shrilled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No you won't Cappy, for the reason that there is no cable to Tahiti.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I'll wireless it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can try that, Cappy. Unfortunately, however, the only wireless
+      station in Tahiti is a little, old, one-cat-power set. It can receive your
+      message, but it can't send one that will reach the nearest wireless
+      station&mdash;and that's at Honolulu. And until the bank in Tahiti can
+      confirm drafts by wireless I imagine it will not pay them on
+      presentation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy surrendered. He couldn't stand any more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye, Gus,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Good luck to you! If you get that vessel you'll
+      deserve her, and when you're forming the S.S. Valkyrie Company I'll head
+      the list of stock subscribers with a healthy little chunk. You know me,
+      Gus! I'm the old bell mare in shipping circles; a lot of others will
+      follow where I lead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forgive you the spruce deal, Cappy. You're an awful pirate; but, for
+      all that, you're a grand piece of work. God bless you!&rdquo; And Redell put his
+      arm round the old man affectionately. &ldquo;Good-bye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, followed by Live Wire Luiz, who was going to the dock to see his
+      partner aboard the <i>Moana</i>, Redell disappeared into California
+      Street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dammit!&rdquo; Cappy soliloquized bitterly. &ldquo;I can't eat lunch now. One bite
+      would choke me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      And he turned toward the entrance to the Merchants' Exchange, being minded
+      to enter a telephone booth and notify the Bilgewater Club he would not be
+      present that day. As he walked through the gate into the Exchange,
+      however, he was accosted by a heavy, florid-faced man carrying a thick
+      woolen watch coat over his arm. This individual was Captain Aaron Porter,
+      one of the San Francisco bar pilots, and he greeted Cappy with a
+      respectful query after the old gentleman's health.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't feel very well,&rdquo; Cappy replied wearily. &ldquo;I'm getting old, captain&mdash;getting
+      old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he noted the watch coat the pilot was carrying and decided
+      subconsciously that there could be no connection between it and the sultry
+      August weather prevailing at that moment; consequently it informed the
+      observant Cappy, as plainly as if it had a tongue and had spoken, that
+      Captain Aaron Porter expected shortly to be exposed to the chill northwest
+      winds outside as he piloted a vessel to sea. In the manufacture of sheer
+      inane conversation, therefore, Cappy tugged the coat and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Going to take a ship out this afternoon, captain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. I'll be responsible for the <i>Moana</i> until we cross the
+      Potato Patch&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>Moana!</i>&rdquo; Cappy cried, and pulled out his watch. &ldquo;You'd better
+      be stepping lively, then. She sails at one, and you have twenty minutes to
+      get to Greenwich Street Pier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, there's no hurry, Mr. Ricks. She'll be delayed from half to
+      three-quarters of an hour waiting for the Australian mail. The mail train
+      from the East is late, and of course the <i>Moana</i> cannot sail till&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will pardon me, captain,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks interrupted politely, &ldquo;but I've
+      just thought of a very important matter. I must run and telephone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As J. Augustus Redell had just pointed out, twenty minutes was scarcely
+      ample time in which to decide on the right emissary to send to Papeete,
+      get into communication with the said individual and induce him to go. In
+      addition, such a person would have to have time to pack some clothing;
+      also, to procure a letter of credit at the bank and purchase a ticket, not
+      to mention the time requisite to receive his instructions and get to the
+      steamer's dock. But with almost an hour&mdash;well, a wide-awake man can
+      accomplish much in an hour, and Cappy Ricks was a natural leader of
+      forlorn hopes. In the brief interval required to accomplish the journey
+      from the door of the Merchants' Exchange to a telephone booth a flock of
+      bright ideas capered through Cappy's ingenious head like goats on a tin
+      roof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Main 2000!&rdquo; he barked, and in five seconds he had the connection. &ldquo;Put
+      Skinner on the line!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy's own private exchange operator had the temerity to inform him that
+      Mr. Skinner was out at luncheon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The in-fer-nal scoundrel&mdash;just when I need him! Put Captain Matt
+      Peasley on the line, and be quick about it. Matt! Matt, listen! This is
+      the old man speaking. Get an earful of what I'm going to tell you now, and
+      don't ask any questions&mdash;just obey! Do you remember that big German
+      freighter&mdash;the Valkyrie&mdash;sunk in Papeete Harbor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's a prize, Matt. I've just been given a low-down on her condition.
+      Gus Redell is leaving on the <i>Moana</i> to bid her in at the government
+      sale&mdash;the young scoundrel told me all about it and twitted me because
+      we were asleep on the job and let the good thing get away from us. The <i>Moana's</i>
+      supposed to sail at one o'clock, but the Eastern mail is late&mdash;she
+      won't get away from the dock until about one-thirty; but when she does&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When she does we'll have a man aboard her to beat Redell to the German
+      steamer,&rdquo; Matt Peasley interrupted. &ldquo;I've got the message. Where are you,
+      father-in-law?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the Merchants' Exchange.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You attend to the funds and I'll do the rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Confound you!&rdquo; rasped Cappy Ricks. &ldquo;You're so headstrong, you'll jam
+      things up yet if you don't listen to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you'll have to send somebody Redell doesn't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That doesn't matter at all. Now, son, will you listen to me? I'll attend
+      to the money and I'll also frame this entire deal. Is Miss Keenan in the
+      office&mdash;you know&mdash;Skinner's stenographer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's been wanting to go on a vacation. When I heard about it I asked her
+      how she'd like a cruise to Alaska&mdash;remember we have the <i>Tillicum</i>
+      leaving at six to-night for St. Michael's. She said that would be fine; so
+      I gave her a pass and the owner's suite on the <i>Tillicum</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I hear. Her trunk was sent to the <i>Tillicum's</i> dock this morning
+      and she has her suit case in the office. She planned to work today and go
+      aboard the <i>Tillicum</i> after office hours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! Then she's all ready lor a voyage to Tahiti. Have the private
+      exchange operator phone our wharf office instantly and tell them to load
+      Miss Keenan's trunk on the first wagon handy and rush it over to the <i>Moana</i>.
+      Give Miss Keenan fifteen hundred dollars and tell her she's to go to
+      Papeete. If she kicks about clothes tell her to get along with what she
+      has and buy what she needs on arrival.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He waited while Matt Peasley gave the necessary instructions to the
+      exchange operator. Then:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all right, sir. Miss Keenan will go. She'll be on her way in five
+      minutes. I've told her to go aboard and buy her ticket from the purser or
+      from the ticket agent at the gang plank.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine business! Now who else have we in our employ that I can send? I want
+      a man&mdash;and a rattling smart one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mike Murphy, the skipper of the <i>Narcissus</i>,&rdquo; Matt suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The very man! He's discharging at Union Street Wharf. Phone the
+      wharfinger's office and tell him he'll not regret taking a message down to
+      the dock to Captain Murphy. Murphy will probably be at lunch aboard. Tell
+      the wharfinger to tell him to throw a few clothes into a suit case&mdash;that
+      he's to go to Papeete on mighty important business&mdash;and to meet me at
+      the head of Greenwich Street Dock at one-twenty, without fail, for his
+      orders and his money. Having phoned these orders, Matt, take the office
+      automobile and scorch to the water front to see that they're carried out.
+      Take Miss Keenan with you. Good-bye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Cappy Ricks dashed out of the Merchants' Exchange as though the devil
+      was at his heels walloping him at every jump. It was four blocks to the
+      Marine National Bank, but the California Street cable car took him there
+      in four minutes. Gasping and perspiring Cappy trotted into the cashier's
+      office, where for ten precious seconds he stood, open-mouthed, unable to
+      say a word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; the cashier greeted him, &ldquo;if you can't talk make
+      signs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy flapped his hands and made three rapid strokes with his index
+      finger, like a motion-picture actor writing a twelve-line letter; then the
+      words came in a veritable cascade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Letters of credit,&rdquo; he croaked-&ldquo;two.&rdquo; The cashier picked up a pencil and
+      a scratch pad. &ldquo;One, twenty-five thousand, favor Michael J. Murphy; one,
+      favor&mdash;oh, what in blue blazes is that girl's first name? Oh, dear!
+      Oh, dear! I never heard her first name&mdash;she's just Miss Keenan. Oh,
+      the devil! Call her Matilda&mdash;that's it&mdash;Matilda Keenan&mdash;fifty
+      thousand dollars for her; and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You appear to be in a terrific hurry for them, Mr. Ricks, so I'll get
+      them started immediately,&rdquo; the cashier interrupted, and turned his
+      memorandum over to an underling, with instructions to give Mr. Ricks'
+      letters of credit precedence over all other business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now write&mdash;check&mdash;your favor&mdash;seventy thousand. I'll sign
+      it&mdash;hope Skinner has enough cash on deposit; if he hasn't&mdash;my
+      personal note, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A mere trifle, Mr. Ricks. We will not worry over that.&rdquo; The cashier
+      filled in the check and Cappy signed it with a trembling hand. &ldquo;And now,&rdquo;
+       the cashier continued, &ldquo;we will have to have Miss Keenan and Mr. Murphy
+      come to the bank to register their respective signatures&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing doing!&rdquo; Cappy piped. &ldquo;Give me the cards and I'll have 'em write
+      their signatures on them aboard the steamer and send them ashore by the
+      pilot. None o' your efficiency monkey business, my son! I guarantee
+      everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He dashed to the telephone and yelled into the receiver: &ldquo;Taxicab!
+      Taxicab!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of the cars belonging to the bank is at the curb, Mr. Ricks. The
+      chauffeur will take you wherever you desire to go,&rdquo; the cashier suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bully for you!&rdquo; Again Cappy commenced to flap his hands. &ldquo;Stenographer&mdash;where's
+      the stenographer? Oh, Judas Priest, nobody helps me! Bless your sweet
+      heart, my dear, here you are, aren't you? Yes, and I'll not forget you for
+      it either. No, no, no! No notes. Just stick piece of paper in the
+      typewriter&mdash;now then! Ready! Dictation direct to machine. Er&mdash;ah!
+      Harumph-h-h! Oh, suffering sailor! What's the name of the French bank in
+      Papeete? I don't know. I'm a director and vice president of this infernal
+      bank&mdash;and I don't know I'm alive! Man, man, I want it&mdash;a thing&mdash;a
+      what-you-may-call-'em&mdash;a&mdash;Oh, the devil! Why do I deposit in
+      this dratted bank? Eureka! I have it! I want a notice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean an advice, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bully boy! An advice. That's it. Holy mackerel, how I love a man that's
+      fast on his feet! A notice to the bank in Papeete, Island of Tahiti, that
+      you've given Captain Michael J. Murphy a letter of credit for twenty-five
+      thousand dollars&mdash;only one notice for one letter of credit. I'm up to
+      skullduggery. Man, man, why don't you dictate? Usual courtesies&mdash;good
+      customer of your bank&mdash;you know; usual flubdub. No advice regarding
+      Miss Keenan's letter of credit&mdash;just Murphy's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cashier good-naturedly shouldered Cappy Ricks aside and dictated to
+      the bank's correspondent in Papeete a brief note to the effect that the
+      Marine National had that day issued to Captain Michael J. Murphy a letter
+      of credit in the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars; that it understood
+      Captain Murphy was proceeding to Papeete on some matter of business and
+      took this occasion to commend him to their kindly offices.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stick that in an envelope&mdash;address envelope, seal it, and write
+      outside: 'Kindness purser S.S. <i>Moana.</i>' The mail to Papeete is
+      closed, but I'll see that the <i>Moana's</i> purser delivers it to the
+      bank,&rdquo; Cappy ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes later Cappy dashed up to the entrance of Greenwich Street Pier
+      and found Matt Peasley waiting for him, with Captain Murphy. Miss Keenan
+      had already gone aboard the <i>Moana</i>, the huge funnel of which, as
+      Cappy noted with a thrill, was still sticking up over the roof of the
+      dock. He crooked his finger and Michael J. Murphy leaped up on the running
+      board of his car.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mike,&rdquo; said Cappy solemnly, &ldquo;listen to me! Here's a letter of credit in
+      your name for twenty-five thousand dollars, and an advice to the bank in
+      Papeete from our bank here stating that the letter of credit has been
+      issued. Give this letter to the purser, together with a good-sized bill,
+      and ask him to deliver it to the Papeete bank when the <i>Moana</i>
+      arrives there. Here, also, is a letter of credit for Miss Keenan in the
+      sum of fifty thousand&mdash;and the bank in Papeete has no notice of it!
+      Remember that! It's important. Keep it to yourself. Miss Keenan has the
+      expense money for both of you; tell her to split the roll with you. Tell
+      her, also, that her name from now until she gets back is Matilda Keenan,
+      and to sign her drafts that way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here are the signature cards. You sign yours and have her sign hers; then
+      you give both to Captain Porter, the pilot, when he leaves the ship, and
+      ask him to deliver them to me. I, in turn, will deliver them to the bank.
+      Tell Miss Keenan she is absolutely under your orders; that she's to forget
+      she ever heard of the lumber and shipping business. Both of you are to
+      keep away from a man by the name of J. Augustus Redell. He's aboard and
+      he's our enemy, captain. He's going to bid forty thousand dollars on the
+      German steamer <i>Valkyrie</i>; so you bid forty thousand and five dollars&mdash;and
+      take her away from him. At the very last minute have Miss Keenan put in a
+      bid for thirty thousand&mdash;in case&mdash;you know, Mike&mdash;we might
+      catch it going and coming. It might pay to have you fall down on your bid&mdash;you
+      know, Mike! She's the dark horse&mdash;the reserve capital. Papeete&mdash;one-horse
+      town, Mike. Everybody knows the other fellow's business&mdash;principal
+      competitor for the steamer is an Australian steamship company. Considering
+      condition world politics today, and no French bidders, naturally Frenchmen
+      will pull for the Britisher. Expect bank will leak and tell 'em you only
+      arrived with twenty-five thousand&mdash;you know, Mike! Can't be too
+      careful. Trust nobody&mdash;and remember this man Redell is the smartest
+      young man in the world and the trickiest scoundrel under heaven. Don't
+      hold him cheap. He's a holy terror! He'd pinch the gold out of your wisdom
+      teeth while you'd be laughing at him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How high am I to go&mdash;if it becomes necessary to bid more than&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shoot the piece!&rdquo; Cappy ordered. It is to be regretted that the
+      Bilgewater Club, cut off from the house rules in a private dining room,
+      had a habit of shooting craps occasionally after luncheon, and Cappy Ricks
+      had picked up the patois of the game. &ldquo;Seventy-five thousand is the limit;
+      but satisfy yourself she's worth the limit before you go to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Redell is going to bid forty thousand, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's his limit. He told me so in confidence when he felt certain I
+      couldn't possibly be a competitor&mdash;told it to me, and kidded me for a
+      dead one at twenty minutes of one, when he knew I couldn't possibly have
+      time to act. But he forgot the mail&mdash;it was delayed&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I get you, sir. There's more to this job than merely acquiring the ship,&rdquo;
+       retorted the astute Murphy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's a million dollars' worth of satisfaction in it for me if I can
+      beat Gus Redell to that steamer. He says I've lost my punch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Captain Murphy was off down the dock, suit case in hand, while Cappy
+      dismissed his borrowed car and climbed into the office car with Matt
+      Peasley. Five minutes they waited at the head of the dock&mdash;and then
+      four huge motor trucks, laden with mail, lumbered through the dock gate.
+      Cappy beamed into Captain Matt Peasley's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess this is a rotten day's work for the president emeritus, eh?&rdquo; he
+      chuckled. &ldquo;President emeritus! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I waited
+      for you and Skinner to get wise to all the good things that are lying
+      round loose, the Blue Star Navigation Company would be in the hands of a
+      receiver within the year. Matt, if you expect to manage the Blue Star
+      you'll have to wake up. You're slow, boy&mdash;s-l-o-w-w! For heaven's
+      sake, don't force me back into the harness! You know I've been wanting to
+      retire for years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, our messengers are aboard, so let's get out of here. I'm hungry; I
+      haven't had any lunch,&rdquo; Matt replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to think of it,&rdquo; Cappy answered cheerfully, &ldquo;I believe I could eat a
+      little something myself. However, I still have one small duty to perform,
+      Matthew. I've got to send a wireless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To whom?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That scoundrel Redell, of course. Think I'm going to swat him and leave
+      him in ignorance of the fact?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Immediately upon arrival at the Commercial Club, Cappy sent the following
+      message:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;J. Augustus Redell,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aboard S. S. <i>Moana</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Augustus, my dear young friend, I have known men who grew rich by keeping
+      their mouths closed!
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;CAPPY.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; said Cappy, as he dispatched this simple declarative sentence.
+      &ldquo;I'll wager one small five-cent bag of smoking tobacco our friend Gus
+      Redell will not sleep to-night. He'll just lie awake wondering what in Sam
+      Hill I meant by that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When he got back to his office he found an aerogram, which read as
+      follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alden P. Ricks
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;258 California Street
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;San Francisco
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything lovely. After getting aboard decided to bluff; went to Redell,
+      told him I was your representative. He went green clear back of the ears;
+      said he had observed delay in sailing. Told him he'd better quit and go
+      ashore with pilot; that I had bank roll choke hippopotamus. Your wireless
+      handed him that moment! Would hesitate repeat his language. Have agreed
+      pay him for his first-class ticket. All first-class cabins sold out; had
+      to have it for Matilda. Steerage an awful place for a skipper, but will
+      have to make the best of it.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;MUHPHY.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner, alarmed at the shrill screams emanating from Cappy Ricks'
+      office, rushed in and found the president emeritus rolling round in his
+      swivel chair, beating the air and stamping on the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good gracious, Mr. Ricks!&rdquo; Skinner cried. &ldquo;What's the matter? Are you
+      hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled. &ldquo;Hurt? Well, I should say so! Skinner, my boy, if
+      you ever lose your punch you'll know just how much I'm suffering. As Live
+      Wire Luiz would say: 'I die weeth dee-light!'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Three months later Cappy Ricks sat alone in his office, his feet on his
+      desk, his old head bowed on his breast. Apparently he was having a gentle
+      snooze. Suddenly he sat up with the suddenness of a jack-in-the-box and
+      stepped to the door leading to Mr. Skinner's office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;do you remember that stinking Humboldt
+      spruce I sawed off on Live Wire Luiz one day when you were out to lunch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They claimed a rebate of six dollars a thousand on it,&rdquo; he declared; &ldquo;and
+      we declined to allow the claim. Well, I've decided to allow it, Skinner.
+      Tell Hankins to draw a check for the rebate in full and bring it in to me.
+      Send in a stenographer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy clawed his whiskers as the stenographer took her seat at his desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ahem! Hum! Harumph-h-h!&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;Take letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. J. Augustus Redell
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;President West Coast Trading Co.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Merchants' Exchange Building, City.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Gus: Having waited for several weeks in the hope of meeting you
+      at the Bilgewater Club, to which, due to some mysterious reason, you
+      appear to have been excessively disloyal of late, I despair of the delight
+      of a personal interview and am accordingly writing you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will recall that jag of odoriferous spruce your excitable partner was
+      chump enough to buy from the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company. On the
+      receipt this morning of a communication from my exceedingly capable
+      representative in Papeete I came to the conclusion that I could afford to
+      allow the rebate claimed by the excessively sour-balled Senor Almeida, and
+      accordingly I am inclosing herewith, to the order of your company, the
+      Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company's check for $536.12.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I also beg to tender you my assurance that if I have seemed in the past
+      to cherish an unchristian resentment of that little deal in grape stakes,
+      the memory of the outrage no longer rankles in my bosom. For you, my dear
+      young friend, I entertain the kindliest, the most paternal of feelings. I
+      have not only forgiven, but I have also forgotten; for my honor is clear
+      again and I figure I can pretty blamed well afford myself the luxury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Regarding that steamer <i>Valkyrie</i>, please be advised that the next
+      steamer to Australia, via Papeete and Raratonga, will carry a Blue Star
+      flag and my instructions to our representative to have it tacked to the
+      main truck of the <i>Valkyrie</i> as she dies submerged in the harbor.
+      Since I assume you will be interested in learning the details of our
+      acquisition of the steamer in question, and since, further, I cannot see
+      that I have anything to lose by withholding this interesting information,
+      please be advised that we bought her in for twenty-two thousand five
+      hundred dollars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear you will be inclined to doubt this and accuse me of romancing for
+      the purpose of dropping more salt in a wound still fresh and bleeding; but
+      I assure you such a suspicion would be a grave injustice to an old man
+      whose portion from you should be pity, not opprobrium.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To begin, it was very easy&mdash;after we had you out of the way. Like a
+      sensible man, you knew you were licked and threw up the sponge to save
+      yourself unnecessary punishment. It has been my experience that only a
+      very wise man has sense enough to do that; consequently, despite your
+      youth and impetuosity, I seem to see the glimmer of a very brilliant
+      commercial future for the West Coast Trading Company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However, to the story: When Mike Murphy got down to Papeete he found a
+      couple of broken-down junk dealers hanging round&mdash;the kind of fellows
+      who would have been glad to bid in the vessel at a couple of thousand
+      dollars for the privilege of breaking her up for junk and gutting her of
+      her cargo. A little reflection convinced Captain Murphy that he could
+      eliminate these small fry and centre his attention on the Australian
+      steamship company; and he was aided in arriving at this conclusion by your
+      Mr. Jinks, whom he found glooming at the dock on the arrival of the <i>Moana</i>
+      minus your handsome self. By the way, Mr. Jinks' action in aiding and
+      abetting Murphy, after discovering that his own company was out of the
+      running, was so sportsmanlike that, if you will kindly advise me of the
+      expense to which you were put in sending him to Papeete, we will gladly
+      send you our check to cover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It took the capable Murphy about an hour and a half to get the lay of the
+      land&mdash;and then he started to play his little game. In the rather
+      restricted society of Papeete Murphy played the fool. Every little while
+      he would apparently acquire a small jag and get very confidential. He told
+      everybody his business&mdash;in confidence&mdash;and everybody in Papeete
+      knew just how much he was going to bid on the wreck. Finally, the day
+      before the bids were to be opened&mdash;Murphy was waiting till the last
+      minute before filing his&mdash;the captain of the port got a wireless from
+      some adventurer down in Noumea, asking him to withhold the opening of the
+      bids till he could get up to Papeete and make a bid. Murphy had already
+      fooled away three weeks in Papeete and if the captain of the port
+      hearkened to the request from the man from Noumea it would mean a wait of
+      another three weeks. Consequently he awaited the next move with interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Augustus, the captain of the port had the temerity to delay the
+      opening of the bids, and Murphy noticed that his competitor hired an
+      attorney and made a bitter and formal protest against the delay. However,
+      it looked to Murphy like they had made just a little bit too much noise&mdash;so
+      he hired an attorney and made a lot of noise himself. The captain of the
+      port overruled both protests, however; and about that time Murphy decided
+      to put over a dirty Irish trick. He announced he could see very clearly
+      there was a move on to double-cross the legitimate bidders and that he
+      wasn't going to hang round any longer. The <i>Timaru</i> was due the next
+      day, so he and Jinks engaged passage to San Francisco on her; and, just
+      before he left, Murphy went up to the bank and drew eighteen thousand
+      dollars on his letter of credit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He got a certificate of deposit in his own name, and that same afternoon
+      his attorney filed a sealed bid with the captain of the port.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I had suspected there might be a leak from that French bank in favor
+      of the Australian; so I had taken care to have it advised by the Marine
+      National here that the latter bank had issued a letter of credit for
+      twenty-five thousand dollars to Captain Murphy. Therefore, the Papeete
+      bank very naturally concluded that twenty-five thousand dollars was all
+      the money Murphy had with him! And when he drew eighteen thousand dollars
+      on it they thought they knew the exact amount of his bid; they thought,
+      also, he had made a bid, in view of the fact that his attorney filed one
+      the same afternoon. At any rate, the news reached the Australian and he
+      withdrew his bid and substituted another. Since he was the possessor of
+      straight inside information as to the amount of his single competitor's
+      bid, he saw no reason why he should waste money; so he bid four thousand
+      pounds, or approximately nineteen thousand five hundred dollars. They say
+      he felt pretty sore when the bids were opened and the <i>Valkyrie</i> went
+      to Miss Matilda Keenan for twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Keenan, by the way, is Skinner's stenographer. Murphy was only the
+      decoy. She carried the real bank roll and nobody suspected her; in fact,
+      Murphy was so certain of his prey he didn't even bid! He tells me the <i>Valkyrie</i>
+      is really a gift, and that, at the widest possible estimate of salvage
+      cost, the Blue Star Navigation Company has purchased, for two hundred
+      thousand dollars, a four-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar ship&mdash;thanks
+      to you!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With kindest regards, and again assuring you of the pleasure I have
+      always taken in our friendship&mdash;a friendship which, I trust, nothing
+      will ever disrupt&mdash;I am
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cordially and sincerely&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy paused and gazed at the stenographer appraisingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that over again, my dear young lady,&rdquo; he commanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl complied and Cappy nodded his satisfaction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and Mr. Skinner get along all right?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm very glad to hear that. You've been substituting for Miss Keenan,
+      haven't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can have the job for keeps if you want it. You suit me. Take
+      letter: 'Miss M. Keenan&mdash;' I called her Matilda, but her name's Mary;
+      so let it go at that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Miss Keenan: Captain Murphy arrived on the <i>Timaru</i>, with
+      the information that he had taken a chance and left our affairs in the
+      laps of the gods and the capable hands of his understudy. It has been
+      pretty tough sledding waiting for the next Australian steamer, but, thank
+      God! she made port yesterday and your report of the success of your
+      mission is before me. I thank you. Yen're a good girl, and I am very happy
+      to learn of your engagement to Captain Murphy. He is a splendid fellow and
+      I am sending him back to Papeete in command of our <i>Amelia Ricks</i>,
+      which has been fitted up as a wrecker, to raise the <i>Valkyrie</i>. You
+      had better wait in Papeete and marry him there, as I am opposed to long
+      engagements among my employees; and Michael will do better and faster work
+      if he settles all his personal worries before tackling those of the Blue
+      Star Navigation Company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On his return with the <i>Valkyrie</i> I shall make him port captain of
+      the Blue Star Fleet, which job will keep him home nights. And since, by
+      his ingenuity, he succeeded in purchasing for twenty-two thousand five
+      hundred dollars a piece of property for which I was prepared to pay as
+      high as seventy-five thousand dollars, for your wedding present I shall
+      allot you and Captain Murphy a ten-thousand-dollar piece of the <i>Valkyrie</i>.
+      It should earn you thirty per cent and make you independent in your old
+      age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very sincerely&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks ceased dictating and clawed his whiskers reflectively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he murmured irrelevantly; &ldquo;I guess that's considerable of a
+      knock-out from an old fogy who's lost his punch!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, to the stenographer:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will be all, my dear. As you pass through the general office tell
+      those fellows out there that I've gone into executive session with myself
+      and am not to be disturbed unless it's something very important. I've got
+      to decide which one of our skippers to promote into the <i>Valkyrie</i>
+      when we get her up and I must think up a new name for her. I think I'll
+      call her the J. H. Skinner. Skinner's a little slow on his feet, but he
+      means well and he's old enough to have a ship named after him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The practical theft from the West Coast Trading Company of the German
+      steamer <i>Valkyrie</i>, had, to Cappy's mind, atoned for the loss and
+      humiliation he had suffered in that grape stake deal. His honor was clean
+      again and for weeks he taunted Redell with the latter's inefficiency,
+      insufficiency and general business debility, until, having extracted the
+      last shred of triumph from the affair, a vague sympathy for Redell
+      commenced to surge up in Cappy's kindly heart and he commenced casting
+      about for an opportunity to do the former a favor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell had enjoyed his beating, for he was, indeed, a rare sport. However,
+      he would have to retaliate. The feud must go on. Unless he could mix a
+      modicum of fun with his profits, J. Augustus would not have regarded the
+      fight worth while, so accordingly he kept his eyes and his ears open for a
+      handy weapon with which to jab Cappy through that same old rift in his
+      armor&mdash;his passion for a large profit through an adroit and ingenious
+      deal in a commodity where even a very modest profit was not discernible to
+      ordinary mortals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally Redell found the opportunity he sought. He was so proud of his
+      formula that he could not forbear remarking casually to Live Wire Luiz one
+      bright day that, granted good health and the approval of Providence for
+      one week, he would knock Cappy Ricks for a goal. And he narrated his
+      scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friend of my heart!&rdquo; the little Peruvian cried excitedly, and held out
+      his arms to Redell, inviting a fraternal embrace. &ldquo;I love you! Damn eet! I
+      say eet! You are one wezard weeth the money-making schemes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Redell cautiously compromised on a hearty handshake; to avoid a kiss
+      he was careful to keep the table between himself and Live Wire Luiz.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall we empty the corporate sock and climb aboard for every cent we can
+      beg, borrow or steal?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, I bet you!&rdquo; Live Wire Luiz cried; for, though a featherweight
+      physically, he was possessed of the courage of an Alexander.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      J. Augustus Redell put on his hat, took from a pigeonhole in his desk the
+      last trial balance of the West Coast Trading Company's books and departed
+      for a conference with his banker. Half an hour later he returned, and the
+      expectant Luiz promptly noted a cloud on Mr. Redell's sunny countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't arrange for a loan,&rdquo; he reported disgustedly. &ldquo;The limit, in view
+      of our present obligations, has been reached.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the margin of ten cents,&rdquo; suggested Live Wire Luiz, &ldquo;take a chance, <i>amigo</i>.
+      Thees is not speculation. It ees what you call the ceench weeth the copper
+      reevets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I figure it that way; nevertheless, copper-riveted cinches sometimes
+      aren't properly cinched and Fortune backs out of the packsaddle. I dare
+      not take a long chance on this, Luiz. If something went wrong we'd be
+      sadly embarrassed. We dare not take a chance up to the limit of what money
+      we have on hand, because we need those funds for other things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Live Wire Luiz swore mournfully in Spanish. Redell nodded and retired to
+      his own office, where for an hour he sat with his head in his hands,
+      searching his agile brain for a bright idea that would lead him out of his
+      dilemma. Suddenly he leaped to his feet, tossed his hat to the ceiling and
+      caught it again as it came down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cappy Ricks is my meat,&rdquo; he declared aloud. &ldquo;Besides, I owe Cappy one for
+      making a monkey out of me on that last deal. He hoisted me on my own
+      petard. Now I'll hoist him, and incidentally annex a profit for the West
+      Coast Trading Company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rushed out into California Street and for the major portion of the day
+      was very busy among various shipping offices. When he returned, late in
+      the afternoon, to the offices of the West Coast Trading Company, his alert
+      young face wore a pleased and confident smile. Live Wire Luiz noted this
+      and took heart of hope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks was, for the thousandth time since his voluntary retirement
+      from active business some ten years previous, overwhelmed with his ancient
+      responsibilities. Mr. Skinner had, under the insistent prodding of his
+      wife, consented grudgingly to a vacation and had gone up into the Sierras
+      to loaf and fish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Scarcely had Skinner departed when one of the Blue Star steamers ran
+      ashore on the Southern California coast, and Captain Matt Peasley left
+      immediately for the scene of the disaster to superintend the work of
+      floating the stranded vessel. This left Cappy riding herd on the destinies
+      of the Blue Star ships, with Mr. Hankins, Skinner's understudy, looking
+      after the lumber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Prior to boarding the train, Matt Peasley had ventured the suggestion that
+      Mr. Skinner be ordered by wire to return to town at once; but this veiled
+      hint that the Blue Star ships could not be managed by the man who had
+      built up the Blue Star Navigation Company had been received very coldly by
+      the president emeritus of the Ricks interests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Young feller,&rdquo; Cappy informed his son-in-law testily, &ldquo;I'll have you know
+      I was managing the Blue Star Navigation Company quite some years before
+      you quit wearing pinafores; so I guess, while you and Skinner are away
+      from the office, we can manage to stagger along after a fashion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I don't like to have you worried with business after you've retired&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Retired!&rdquo; Cappy hooted. &ldquo;Swell chance I've got to retire! I'll die in the
+      harness whether I want to or not. Tut, tut, my boy! Don't be afraid to put
+      me in as a pinch hitter for this organization. The worst I can do is to
+      single&mdash;and I might clout a home run.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Skinner has been away two weeks&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough! It would be a bad thing to obsess Skinner with the notion that we
+      can't get along without him. Then he never would take a rest; and I don't
+      want any martyrs or neurasthenics round my office. You got anything on the
+      fire that's liable to burn or boil over, before you get back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing to worry about, Cappy,&rdquo; Matt answered. &ldquo;Our five-masted schooner
+      <i>Mindoro</i> is the only vessel requiring immediate attention. She
+      arrived at Sydney yesterday with lumber from Gray's Harbor, and as yet I
+      haven't been able to get a satisfactory return cargo for her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you been holding out for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to get a cargo for delivery in San Francisco if possible. The
+      vessel will be ready to go on dry dock by the time she gets back here; and
+      besides, I'm planning to put a semi-Diesel-type engine in her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      '&ldquo;Not by a jugful! She wasn't built with a shaft log, and I won't have you
+      weakening my <i>Mindoro</i> by cutting away her deadwood&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tish! Tush! You're a back number, Cappy. They don't cut through the
+      deadwood any more. They run the shaft out over her quarter and hang it on
+      struts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll carry a helm&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll not; but if she does, let her. It'll give the helmsman something
+      to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy subsided, fearful that if he persisted he might be given new
+      evidence of the fact that times had changed a trifle, here and there,
+      since he had&mdash;ostensibly&mdash;gone on the retired list.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll take care of the <i>Mindoro</i>,&rdquo; he assured his son-in-law.
+      &ldquo;Early in life I adopted the woodpecker as my patron saint. Ever since,
+      whenever I want anything I keep pecking away, and pretty soon I bust
+      through somewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The following morning, bursting with a sense of responsibility, Cappy came
+      bustling down to the office and got on the job at eight-thirty. After
+      looking through the mail he called up all the freight brokers in town and
+      urged them to make a special effort to line up a San Francisco cargo for
+      the <i>Mindoro</i>; then he summoned Mr. Skinner's stenographer and was
+      busy dictating when Mr. J. Augustus Redell was announced by a youth from
+      the general office. Cappy went to the door to welcome his beloved young
+      friend and business enemy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in, Gus, my dear boy,&rdquo; he chirped, &ldquo;and rest your face and hands.&rdquo;
+       He turned to the stenographer. &ldquo;That will be all, my dear, for the
+      present. I can't dictate business secrets in the presence of this&mdash;ahem&mdash;harumph-h-h!&mdash;er&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His desk telephone rang. Cappy took down the receiver and grunted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;J. O. Heyfuss &amp; Co. are calling you, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; his private exchange
+      operator announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy smiled and nodded. J. O. Heyfuss &amp; Co. were ship, freight and
+      marine insurance brokers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something doing for my <i>Mindoro</i>,&rdquo; he soliloquized aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Ricks?&rdquo; a voice came over the wire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello there!&rdquo; Cappy replied at the top of his voice. For some reason he
+      always shouted when telephoning. &ldquo;Ricks on the job! Whatja got for my <i>Mindoro</i>,
+      Heyfuss?... Zinc ore? Never carried any before. Don't know what it looks
+      like.... Yes; that freight rate is acceptable. We should have more, but
+      God forbid that we should be considered human hogs... Yes.... Sure it's
+      for discharge in San Francisco? ... All right. Close for it....
+      Good-bye!... Hey there, Heyfuss! Don't close in a hurry. See if you can't
+      get the charterers to pay the towage over to her loading port. If they
+      won't pay all, strike 'em for half.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He hung up without saying good-bye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's out of the way,&rdquo; he declared with satisfaction. &ldquo;Just closed
+      for a cargo of zinc ore from Australia to San Francisco ex our schooner <i>Mindoro</i>.
+      Matt Peasley's been hunting wild-eyed for a cargo for her&mdash;scouring
+      the market, Gus&mdash;and nothing doing! And here the old master comes
+      along and digs up a cargo while you'd be saying Jack Robinson. By the Holy
+      Pink-Toed Prophet, if you can show me how the rising generation is going
+      to get by&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused suddenly, leaned forward, and pointed an accusing finger at his
+      visitor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gus,&rdquo; he charged, &ldquo;you're up to something. I can see it in your eyes. You
+      look guilty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Redell hitched his chair close to Cappy and with his index finger
+      tapped the old gentleman three times on the right knee-three impressive
+      taps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alden P. Ricks,&rdquo; he began with equal impressiveness, &ldquo;I have a scheme&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy chuckled and slapped his thin old thigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! Gus, if you ever come into my
+      office and fail to unload a scheme on me I'll think you aren't enjoying
+      your usual robust health. What are you going to start now? A skunk farm
+      for cornering the market on Russian sable?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cut out the hilarity. This is serious business, Cappy. I can show you
+      where you and I can waltz into the Chicago Pit, make a killing on December
+      wheat, and escape with a sizable wad before our identity is discovered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy, caught off his guard, blinked at the enormity of the prospect; but,
+      remembering his dignity as a business man, he shook his head sadly and
+      replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wheat! Wheat, eh? A lumber and shipping man monkeying with wheat? Not for
+      little old Alden P. Ricks! No, sir! When I go speculating I stick to my
+      specialties&mdash;lumber and ships. Did you ever hear of a gambler,
+      winning a fortune at faro, who didn't drop his winnings on the ponies?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this is a beautiful layout.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know anything about wheat and I'm too old to learn. Besides, I
+      don't trust you, Gus. You're an infernal scoundrel; and experience has
+      taught me that any time I take your tip and go in on a deal I have to step
+      lively to keep from being walked on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this time I'm free from guile. I won't stab you, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No use! The last boat just left, Augustus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      {Illustration with caption: He always shouted when telephoning.}
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Redell, however, was made of rather stern stuff. He was a young man
+      who never took &ldquo;No&rdquo; for an answer. Persistence was his most striking
+      characteristic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now listen,&rdquo; he implored. &ldquo;Let the dead past bury itself. I give you my
+      word of honor, Cappy, that this deal is on the level. Just let me put all
+      my cards on the table while you take a look; then, if you don't want to
+      come in, all I ask is your word of honor that you'll stay out while I
+      round up a partner with red blood in his veins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy pricked up his ears at that. He saw that Redell was serious; he knew
+      that once the latter passed his word of honor he never broke it. Still,
+      Cappy did not wish to appear precipitate in his surrender; so he said
+      weakly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am against speculation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean you're against foolish speculation,&rdquo; Redell corrected him. &ldquo;I
+      take it, however, that you have no objection to playing a sure thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; Gappy admitted, &ldquo;in that event I might be persuaded. Nevertheless,
+      I'm afraid of you. There's a fly in the ointment, even if I cannot see it.
+      You owe me a poke, and you'll never rest until you've squared the account
+      between us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Redell held up his hands in abject distress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cappy,&rdquo; he pleaded, &ldquo;don't say that. You wrong me cruelly. It is in my
+      power to stand idly by and let you assimilate a poke right now; but, just
+      to show you I haven't any hard feelings, I'll do something nice for you
+      instead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean&mdash;nice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll save you money&mdash;not only today but for years to come; and I'll
+      save your self-respect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shoot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call up J. O. Heyfuss &amp; Co. and tell them to take their cargo of zinc
+      ore in bulk for your schooner <i>Mindoro</i> and go to the devil with it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, good gracious, boy, I have to get something for her homeward trip!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In this case nothing is better than something. Do you know anything about
+      zinc ore?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; as much as an Eskimo knows about the doctrine of
+      transubstantiation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought so. Well, I'll enlighten you. Zinc ore is blamed near as heavy
+      as lead, and it's as fine as cement. Load it in a ship in bulk and, what
+      with the pitching and rolling of a vessel on a long voyage, she opens up
+      every seam and crack in her interior; then this powdered ore sifts into
+      the skin of the ship and down into her bilge, and you'll never be able to
+      get it out without tearing the ship apart. Why, after a vessel has
+      freighted a cargo of zinc ore there may be as much as fifty tons left in
+      her after she's supposed to be discharged; and, of course, thereafter
+      she'll carry that much less cargo than she did before. Besides, the
+      consignees are liable to send you a bill for the shortage; you can gamble
+      your head they'll deduct it from the freight bill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Holy sailor!&rdquo; Cappy was appalled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; Redell continued, &ldquo;I'm surprised at your ignorance, Cappy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'm amazed at your intelligence! Where did you get all this zinc-ore
+      dope?&rdquo; Cappy challenged. &ldquo;How do you know it's true?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got it from Captain Matt Peasley. I heard him give it to J. O. Heyfuss
+      on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange two weeks ago, when Heyfuss tried
+      to sneak up on his blind side and hang that cargo of zinc ore on him. I
+      guess they weren't importing much zinc ore when you were active in
+      business, Cappy, or you'd have known all about it. You see the plot, don't
+      you? As soon as Heyfuss learned that Matt Peasley and Skinner had gone
+      away, leaving a defenseless old man on the job, he organized himself to
+      spear you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The shameless son of a sea cook! By gravy, Gus, you're my friend!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Need any more proof?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a speck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I'll give you some. Call up Heyfuss and declare that ore cargo off;
+      after you've done that I'll tell you where you can get something better.
+      Moreover, you can close the deal yourself and save the brokerage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks called up J. O. Heyfuss and in a few terse sentences told that
+      individual where to head in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, then&mdash;&rdquo; he began, facing round on Redell once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Redell's index finger tapped Cappy's knee. Dramatically he
+      pronounced a single word:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wheat!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wheat?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wheat!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What kind of wheat?&rdquo; In his amazement Cappy was rather helpless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Number One white Australian wheat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You jibbering jackdaw! Wheat? Don't you know blamed well that wheat is
+      one of the commodities Australia never exports to these United States?
+      Why? Because we don't need her doggoned wheat! We grow all the wheat we
+      need and a lot more we don't need; we export that, and it's just as fine
+      wheat as you'll find anywhere. Moreover, any time our crop is a failure,
+      our next-door neighbor, Canada, is Johnny-on-the-spot, ready to make
+      prompt delivery. So what in thunder are you talking about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For answer J. Augustus Redell drew from his pocket that morning's paper
+      and pointed to the headline of a front-page story. Cappy adjusted his
+      spectacles and read: Bakers Announce Six-Cent Loaf!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum-m-m!&rdquo; said Cappy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet! And it's a smaller loaf, by the way. Doesn't that argue that
+      there is something doing in wheat, when the price of bread goes to six
+      cents for a half portion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there might be something in that, Gus. Crack along and tell me some
+      more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Until the identity of the real culprits is fixed, Cappy, we must blame
+      the war in Europe for the six-cent loaf; likewise for the fifteen-dollar
+      shoe that formerly cost our wives six or seven; for the eleven pounds of
+      sugar for a dollar, when twenty to twenty-two pounds was the standard in
+      the good old days. Europe is too busy fighting to pay much attention to
+      farming; the wheat farmers of Canada are somewhere in France instead of
+      being at home 'tending to business; and it has been up to Uncle Sam and
+      the Argentine Republic to feed the world, you might say. Naturally
+      speculators have seized upon this condition to shoot the price of wheat to
+      the skies, and in desperation the millers have been casting about to buy
+      cheaper wheat. Investigation discloses the fact that Australia has an
+      enormous quantity of wheat on hand; some of it is the surplus of the 1915
+      crop. Of course she has exported all she could to England; but, at that,
+      she has been handicapped.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because when a ship sails from Liverpool with goods for Australia, it is
+      a rare case when that same ship promptly loads with Australian goods and
+      puts back to Liverpool. She takes a cargo of coal, say, from Newcastle up
+      to Manila; a general cargo from Manila to Seattle or San Francisco; thence
+      to a West Coast port with a general cargo; thence to New York with
+      nitrate; thence to Europe with foodstuffs or munitions. Australia hasn't
+      had the tonnage to export her wheat and it's been piling up on her. Now
+      they've simply got to sell something to get some ready money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is perfectly re-markable!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell took a document from his pocket and gravely handed it to Cappy, who
+      examined it and discovered the same to be a charter party, consummated the
+      day before between the West Coast Trading Company, owners of the
+      barkentine <i>Mazeppa</i>, and Messrs. Ford &amp; Carter, a well known
+      export and import firm whose principal business was done in grain. Cappy
+      read the charter party carefully and even verified the signatures, with
+      which he was familiar. The vessel was to carry a cargo of wheat from
+      Melbourne to San Francisco at a freight rate that fairly shrieked the word
+      &ldquo;Dividend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Re-markable!&rdquo; Cappy declared. &ldquo;Preposterous!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seeing is believing. Call up Ford &amp; Carter, and they'll jump over
+      themselves to give you a cargo of wheat for your <i>Mindoro</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Im-possible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm telling you. Why, it stands to reason, Cappy! Canada and the
+      United States are so much nearer Europe than is Australia that it has been
+      cheaper to use our wheat, and the result is we've been cleaned out; and
+      the newspapers are filled with dismal stories of the sufferings of the
+      poor due to the increased price of bread.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to think of it, Gus, there <i>has</i> been a lot of that stuff in
+      the papers lately. But, of course, when a fellow's stomach is full and he
+      isn't in danger of being attached for debt, he never thinks of the less
+      fortunate brother. Yes, Gus, I dare say the demand for our wheat now
+      exceeds the visible supply.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it any wonder, then, that this condition of affairs should come to the
+      attention of the Australian exporters? Just because Australian wheat has
+      never been shipped into the United States is no reason why it shouldn't be
+      shipped&mdash;particularly when the price of flour goes up daily. Why, we
+      pay two and a half dollars for the fifty-pound sack of flour that formerly
+      cost us a dollar and a quarter! Eggs are up to seventy cents a dozen&mdash;by
+      jingo, Cappy, what's going to become of us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God knows!&rdquo; Cappy answered dismally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell had him hypnotized. Already Cappy could see the gates of the
+      poorhouse opening to receive them all. Redell's voice brought him back to
+      a realization of his peril.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll find, Cappy Ricks, that for months to come every sailing vessel
+      that carries lumber to Australia from the Pacific Coast will come back
+      with a cargo of wheat while these war prices are maintained.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great Jumping Jehoshaphat! How'd you get next to all this, Gus?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The early bird gets the worm, and success comes to the man who creates
+      his own opportunities. I thought it all up out of my own head, Cappy, and
+      then tried it out on Ford &amp; Carter. It knocked 'em cold for a minute;
+      but that was only because the proposition was so unusual. When I explained
+      the situation to them, however, and gave them time to digest it, both
+      offered to take me out to luncheon. You can see for yourself they've
+      chartered our Mazeppa at a fancy freight rate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy licked his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>Mindoro</i> is sound, tight and seaworthy,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;She
+      could carry wheat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on in, Cappy. The water's fine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll do it! Gus, you're a mighty good fellow, if I do say it that
+      shouldn't. I have five windjammers en route to Australia this minute, and,
+      by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I can get wheat charters for all of them
+      on the return trip I'll accept, if it costs me money. Gus, something has
+      got to be done about this high cost of living or we'll all go to hell
+      together. There comes a time in a man's life when he must put aside the
+      sordid question of 'How much is there in it for me?' and ask himself: 'How
+      much can I put in it for the other fellow?' Gus, it's our Christian duty
+      to furnish tonnage to import this wheat. We should, as patriotic citizens,
+      make it our business to boom Australian wheat in the United States and
+      give these doggoned pirates that gamble in the foodstuffs of the country a
+      run for their money. Food prices should be regulated by this Government.
+      The Chicago Pit should be abolished by legislative enactment&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they won't do it this year, Cappy,&rdquo; Redell interrupted dryly.
+      &ldquo;Still, it occurred to me that I saw an opening where two high-minded
+      philanthropists&mdash;to wit, Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell&mdash;might
+      strike a blow for freedom and at the same time give these wheat
+      speculators a kick where it will do them the most good. When one cannot
+      annihilate his enemy the next best thing is to take some money away from
+      him; and you and I, Cappy Ricks, can take a young fortune away from these
+      fellows, while at the same time depressing the price of wheat and doing
+      our fellow countrymen a favor. Are you prepared to volunteer under my
+      banner? If so, hold up your right hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy held up his right hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out with it, Gus,&rdquo; he ordered; &ldquo;out with it! This is most interesting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! You're interested now, are you? Well, bearing in mind the fact that
+      your specialty is lumber and ships, I will give you an opportunity to
+      withdraw before it is too late. Besides, it occurs to me that I have
+      already done enough for you today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be greedy, Gus. Remember there is an exception to every rule.
+      Besides, I'm getting old and&mdash;er&mdash;ahem!&mdash;hell's bells, boy,
+      I've got to have my fling every once in a while. Come now, Gus! Out with
+      it! I believe your proposition embodied the coupling of both our names in
+      the betting, did it not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It did, Cappy. Still, come to think of it, I really ought not to come in
+      here and tempt you into speculating&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much money do you want?&rdquo; Cappy shrilled impatiently. &ldquo;Cut out this
+      infernal drivel and get down to business. Unfold your proposition; and if
+      it looks to me like a winner I'll take a flyer with you if it's the last
+      act of my sinful life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On your own head be it, Cappy. Here goes! However, before laying my plan
+      before you, perfect frankness compels me to state that my visit to you was
+      not born of an overweening desire to do you a kindness or make money for
+      you. Philanthropy is not my long suit&mdash;in business hours; and my
+      interest in you today is purely a selfish one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on; go on, boy! Am I a child in arms?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have made a ball, Cappy,&rdquo; Redell continued, &ldquo;and I want you to fire it.
+      I have a splendid prescription to make a clean-up in December wheat&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your prescription.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, my prescription lacks one small ingredient to make it a
+      standard household remedy. You can supply that ingredient&mdash;to wit,
+      cash of the present standard of weight and fineness. Every spare dollar
+      that Live Wire Luiz and I can get our hands on is working overtime in the
+      legitimate business of the West Coast Trading Company; every loose asset
+      with a hockable value has been hocked, and we dare not strain our credit
+      with our banker by borrowing money with which to speculate. If I apply for
+      a sizable loan, without putting up collateral, he'll ask me what I want to
+      do with the money&mdash;and if I answer truthfully he'll throw Luiz and me
+      and our account out of his bank. And I never was a very successful liar.
+      Therefore, in consideration of the valuable information I can furnish, I
+      suggest that you carry me for a quarter of a million bushels of December
+      wheat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much will that cost me?&rdquo; Cappy queried warily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll operate on margin. I think a margin of ten cents a bushel will do
+      the trick; of course, if wheat should go up a point you'll be asked to
+      come through with more money. However, I have a sneaking notion that a
+      well-known heavyweight like you can place his order with any of the local
+      brokers without having to put up a single cent; at the most they might ask
+      you for five thousand or ten thousand dollars. But they know you're good
+      for any engagement you may make; they'd be tickled to death to have your
+      promissory note. I suggest that you get in touch with a sound brokerage
+      house in this city&mdash;one that is a member of the New York Exchange and
+      the Chicago Board of Trade&mdash;and sell, for my account, two hundred and
+      fifty thousand bushels of December wheat at the market.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What'll I do for myself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go as far as you like. You know your own limitations. I'm desirous of
+      selling a quarter of a million bushels at the market; and, as I am
+      furnishing the plans and specifications for this raid, I suggest that you
+      sell at least a quarter of a million yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Funny business!&rdquo; Cappy murmured. &ldquo;Selling a quarter of a million bushels
+      of wheat you do not own and never will! Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! Then
+      what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bent his head and gazed very severely at Mr. Redell over the rims of
+      his spectacles. For reply Mr. Redell took from his pocket thirteen sheaves
+      of paper and handed them to Cappy, who investigated and discovered them to
+      be thirteen forty-eight-hour options on thirteen sailing vessels bound to
+      Australian ports with lumber, and not as yet provided with a return cargo
+      to the United States.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By to-morrow morning I shall have exercised those options and closed for
+      thirteen cargoes of wheat,&rdquo; Redell explained. &ldquo;You have five vessels bound
+      to Australia also. Give me an option on them for their return cargo and
+      that will make eighteen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes. Then what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will charter all of the eighteen to Ford grain of it, in order to
+      protect themselves against a falling market.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naturally. And the market is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;December wheat closed in the Chicago Pit yesterday at $1.89 1/2, and the
+      market has been very stiff for quite a while. The bulls are right on the
+      job.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will not the advent of all this Australian wheat depress the market?&rdquo;
+       Cappy shrilled excitedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not unless the bears happen to find it out, Cappy,&rdquo; Redell retorted
+      gently. &ldquo;It is our job to bring the matter to their attention, for it so
+      happens that Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell are the only two people
+      in the United States who happen to know about it. Ford bulls will get
+      panicky; the bears will take heart of hope, and with Number One white
+      Australian wheat they'll beat the brains out of the market and in all
+      probability kick it down to $1.85, at which figure we promptly buy as much
+      wheat as we have previously sold. Thus we cover our shorts, and the
+      difference between $1.89 1/2 and $1.85, less brokerage and interest&mdash;if
+      any&mdash;will be, roughly speaking, four cents. Four cents on a quarter
+      of a million bushels is ten thousand dollars&mdash;not a great deal,
+      truly, in these days of swollen fortunes, but, nevertheless, a nice piece
+      of velvet&mdash;eh, Cappy, you sporty boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't so much the money we make,&rdquo; Cappy replied sagely. &ldquo;It's the fun
+      we have making it, my boy; the joy of putting over a winner. The instant a
+      man begins to love money for money's sake he's a knave and a fool. Kill
+      him! But&mdash;er&mdash;ahem&mdash;as you say, my dear young friend, ten
+      thousand each is not to be&mdash;er&mdash;sneezed at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you're coming in on the deal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should tell a man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After the fashion of the West they shook hands on it and went to luncheon
+      at the Commercial Club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Directly luncheon was over and Cappy Ricks had returned to his office, J.
+      Augustus Redell moved into action. He called on Messrs. Ford &amp; Carter,
+      talked the situation over with them, and showed them where they, having
+      the necessary tonnage in hand with which to guarantee delivery, could
+      bring a couple of million bushels of fine Number One white Australian
+      wheat to the Pacific Coast, cut the price a cent, and doubtless unload
+      every kernel of it at a fair profit. There was every probability that
+      wheat would go to two dollars. For his part in producing this profit Mr.
+      Redell desired a commission of five per cent on all sales of wheat
+      imported in the bottoms he had under option and which he stood ready to
+      turn over to Ford &amp; Carter without profit, since the owners of the
+      vessels would pay him the customary broker's commission on the freight
+      money earned on the voyage. Ford &amp; Carter said they would think the
+      matter over; so Mr. Redell tactfully withdrew, stating that he would call
+      up the following day for an answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He knew Ford &amp; Carter would promptly dispatch a long cablegram to
+      their agent in Australia, instructing him to get a forty-eight-hour option
+      on the wheat, with a guaranty of delivery to the vessels as they arrived
+      from time to time. Meantime, Ford &amp; Carter would quote every milling
+      company in the West, subject to prior acceptance and their ability to
+      deliver Number One Australian wheat at a price that would be of interest.
+      If the milling companies accepted this rather nebulous quotation and
+      telegraphed orders, and Ford &amp; Carter's Australian agent could
+      purchase at a satisfactory price the wheat to fill these orders, then Ford
+      &amp; Carter would make formal acceptance and purchase the wheat. If, on
+      the other hand, their agent in Australia failed to get the wheat, then
+      Ford &amp; Carter had an &ldquo;out&rdquo; with the milling companies who desired to
+      buy the wheat from them, and the entire matter would be off, with Ford
+      &amp; Carter merely out a couple of hundred dollars in telegraph bills.
+      That was the bet they had to make to put their fortune to the touch; and
+      right cheerfully did they make it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      J. Augustus Redell gave them all the time he could. His forty-eight-hour
+      options on the vessels then en route to Australia had cost him nothing;
+      that was a courtesy which one shipowner always extends to another, free of
+      charge, unless the vessel happens to be on demurrage at the time the
+      option is given. When his options were within two hours of expiring he
+      called on Ford &amp; Carter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll take 'em all,&rdquo; Carter almost shouted at him. &ldquo;They'll be arriving
+      with sufficient time elapsing between arrivals to guarantee us immunity
+      from any undue delay or embarrassment in loading them. We've bought the
+      wheat and sold it; now give us the tonnage to freight it, Redell, and
+      we'll all be happy, and a little richer than we were the day before
+      yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell took up the telephone and called each shipowner, in turn, to inform
+      him that he would exercise his option on the latter's ship, and for the
+      owner to prepare charter parties and send them up to his office for
+      signature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will have no difficulty in getting the owners to agree to an assignment
+      of these charters to you,&rdquo; he advised Carter. &ldquo;You and Ford are brothers
+      in good standing, I take it. However, if they insist on doing business
+      through me, in order that they may hold me responsible, I'll simply
+      recharter to you at the same rate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovely!&rdquo; cried Messrs. Ford &amp; Carter in unison.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes later J. Augustus Redell burst into Cappy Ricks' sanctum and
+      wakened the old gentleman from his afternoon siesta.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The trap is set,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;Come on, Cappy! We're going up to the
+      broker's office now and give the order to sell our December wheat. I can't
+      go alone, you know. There wouldn't be an odor of sanctity about the
+      transaction if I did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll have Gregg &amp; Company attend to it for us,&rdquo; Cappy announced.
+      &ldquo;You remember Harry Gregg, don't you? Used to be in the steamship business
+      years ago. Gosh, that boy knows me! He'll take a stiff finger bet from
+      Alden P. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Together they motored uptown to the office of Gregg &amp; Co., where
+      Cappy's card gained him instant admittance to the broker's private office.
+      Redell remained in the anteroom on pretense of speaking to an
+      acquaintance, and the instant Cappy disappeared into Gregg's office Redell
+      stepped out into the hall, where he waited until Cappy had booked his
+      order and came hunting for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I've sold my two hundred and fifty thousand bushels at a
+      dollar-ninety,&rdquo; Cappy announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much margin?&rdquo; Redell demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Gregg didn't sting me very hard. Ten cents a bushel. It seemed like a
+      good bet to him. He looks for a drop in December wheat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Met a pest out here and couldn't seem to get away from him,&rdquo; Redell
+      explained. &ldquo;Take me in and introduce me to Gregg, and I'll give him an
+      order to sell a jag of wheat for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy complied and Redell gave the broker his order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will take about twenty-five thousand dollars to margin this trade, Mr.
+      Redell,&rdquo; the latter remarked easily as he wrote out the order and handed a
+      copy to Redell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; Cappy struck in. &ldquo;Mr. Redell is one of our most delightful,
+      trustworthy and popular young men, and to ask him for twenty-five thousand
+      dollars today would prejudice his standing with his banker. I guarantee
+      him, Harry. Treat him as you'd treat me. I guarantee him up to a hundred
+      thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your guaranty goes with me, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; Gregg answered promptly, and
+      shoved the copy of the order he had just booked over to Cappy, together
+      with the fountain pen. Cappy wrote: &ldquo;O. K. Alden P. Ricks.&rdquo; Redell gave
+      his check for ten thousand dollars margin and the deal was closed. When
+      the scheming pair returned to Cappy's office the latter gave Redell his
+      check for ten thousand to reimburse Redell for margining the trade, in
+      accordance with Cappy's verbal agreement to provide the sinews of war.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now then, Cappy,&rdquo; Redell announced as he stuffed Cappy's check into his
+      pocket, &ldquo;the next move is to return to my office, close those charters
+      with the owners and turn the ships over to Ford &amp; Carter. That matter
+      attended to, I shall, with eighteen charter parties in my pocket, drift
+      casually over to the Merchants' Exchange. There I shall find the market
+      reporters for both of our sunrise sheets; if they are not there I shall
+      wait until they arrive. These gifted young men I shall draw to one side;
+      to them I shall, with great gusto, relate a tale of Number One white
+      Australian wheat, shortly to descend upon the United States of America in
+      no less than eighteen vessels, now chartered for that purpose, with more
+      to follow. In proof of this statement I shall exhibit the charter parties;
+      and then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Front-page story!&rdquo; Cappy declared, interrupting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet&mdash;but soon. To get on the front page a story must be rather
+      unusual. A perusal of our daily rags will convince the most skeptical that
+      the sensational, the unusual, the bizarre are what appeal most to the men
+      who make the newspapers. The unusual thing about our deal lies in the fact
+      that this is the first time in the history of Australia or the United
+      States that the former country has exported wheat into the latter&mdash;the
+      first time the latter has ever had to call on an outsider for help. Then,
+      Cappy, it will be a front-page story&mdash;and how those boys will hop to
+      it! Why, we'll get a column about Australian wheat invading the land of
+      the free whose rapacity threatens the very food that goes into the mouths
+      of little children! Little children and their mouths is good stuff! I'll
+      use that line when slipping the story to the boys. They might overlook it
+      if I didn't. I'll remind them of the six-cent loaf of bread, the
+      sufferings of the poor, and how far the importation of Australian wheat
+      will go to knock the Chicago wheat barons for a goal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, here! You're too precipitate,&rdquo; Cappy cautioned. &ldquo;Don't tip this
+      story off to both reporters. That's coarse work. Tell it to one only. Put
+      him under obligations to you by seeming to give him a scoop. Tell him you
+      won't say a word to his competitor, and he'll tell his city editor the
+      story is exclusive; then they'll be certain to play it up big.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cappy, you're the shadow of a rock in a weary land! Who'll tip off the
+      other reporter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will, of course. Leave it to me. A man doesn't go through the mill of
+      Big Business without knowing the way of that singularly useful individual,
+      the newspaper man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell sat down and laughed until the tears ran down his merry
+      countenance. Cappy thought the outlook sufficiently cheerful to warrant
+      that laugh, and suspected nothing. He even joined in the laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And to-morrow morning, when that story appears, the local brokerage firms
+      will be calling up Ford friend and gave him a paternal hug. He winked
+      wickedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear boy,&rdquo; he suggested, &ldquo;suppose you and I go out and pin one on?
+      Hey? How about you, boy? A pint of '98, in order that we may properly
+      drink confusion to the wolf of want and damnation to dull care!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Late that afternoon Cappy Ricks graciously summoned the Chronicle reporter
+      to his office and told him in detail all he knew about the Australian
+      wheat invasion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;this may be mere street gossip; but I think
+      there's something in it, my boy. At any rate, I thought you might care to
+      be tipped off to the situation. It looks like a corking story to me. I
+      suggest that you call up Ford &amp; Carter and see what they have to say
+      about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder whether the Examiner reporter has a tip on this?&rdquo; the Chronicle
+      man queried hopefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not from me. This story is for you, young man. That's why I called you
+      down to my office.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      About the same hour J. Augustus Redell might have been seen at the press
+      table on 'Change, unfolding a similar story to the market reporter of the
+      Examiner, who thought it was a humdinger of a story, and so declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. Glad you think so,&rdquo; Mr. Redell replied, beaming upon him. &ldquo;And
+      just to show you I'm right, I'll not breathe a word of it to the Chronicle
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having planted his journalistic bomb, Mr. Redell glanced at his watch. It
+      was exactly eleven o'clock. &ldquo;I still have time,&rdquo; he murmured, and departed
+      immediately to the office of Gregg of December wheat, but to cease selling
+      the instant the market hesitated to absorb it or the price broke a point.
+      At the same moment, in another brokerage office, Cappy Ricks was issuing a
+      similar order. Before the market closed, Cappy had succeeded in selling a
+      hundred and eighty thousand bushels, while Redell had disposed of a
+      hundred and thirty. Evidently the bears took it as it came, for the market
+      closed strong at $1.89.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither Cappy nor Redell reported at his office the following day. At the
+      hour when the market opened in Chicago both schemers appeared on the floor
+      of the Merchants' Exchange and bent their gaze upon the only blackboard on
+      'Change they had not heretofore honored with their scrutiny&mdash;the
+      board in back of the Grain Pit, which carried the quotations on the
+      Chicago Board of Trade, already beginning to come in by wire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For an hour the trading was inactive. Then suddenly the price broke half a
+      point as somebody tossed a lot of fifty thousand bushels on the market.
+      Cappy and Redell each wondered whether he might not be the responsible
+      party; and while they pondered somebody unloaded a hundred thousand
+      bushels at $1.88. Cappy gasped as the quotations appeared on the
+      blackboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something doing, Gus!&rdquo; he whispered; Redell nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now commenced a period of wild trading. The price crept back to $1.89,
+      only to be assaulted and beaten back to $1.87; then, fraction by fraction
+      and point by point, the price fell; and J. Augustus Redell wagged his head
+      approvingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have received our message,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The riot is on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the price had been beaten down to $1.83 Cappy turned to his
+      associate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm through!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Time to cover my shorts.&rdquo; And he trotted away to
+      a telephone booth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Redell, he would not intrust his fortune to a telephonic order, but
+      sprang into 'his runabout, parked at the curb outside the Exchange, and
+      scorched uptown to Gregg &amp; Co.'s offices, where he learned that he had
+      sold four hundred and ten thousand bushels of December wheat. One hundred
+      thousand had been sold at $1.90, two hundred and eighty thousand at prices
+      varying from $1.89 to $1.88 1/8, and the remainder at 1.88.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Buy me four hundred and ten thousand bushels at the market,&rdquo; he ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he left the office the sale had been confirmed and Mr. Redell's
+      shorts had been covered at a price ranging from $1.83 to $1.83 5/8,
+      whereupon he closed out his trade and received a check for his margin and
+      his profits. An hour later he met Cappy Ricks again on 'Change.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Cappy?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cleaned up, thank you,&rdquo; the old gentleman informed him. &ldquo;Sold, bought,
+      and got the money. This is one time it rained duck soup and I was there
+      with a bucket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He prodded Mr. Redell playfully in the short ribs and the incident was
+      closed. They had made a profit of more than twenty thousand dollars each;
+      and when each returned to his office he forgot all about December wheat
+      until half past five that evening, when both met on the deserted floor of
+      the exchange to scan the blackboard. December wheat had closed that day at
+      $1.83! Two days later J. Augustus Redell called Cappy Ricks on the
+      telephone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That you, Cappy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Redell speaking. Read the story on the front page of the Chronicle this
+      morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; what was it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The British Government has placed an embargo on the exportation of wheat
+      from Australia; so all those eighteen charters I negotiated with Ford were
+      placed with Ford &amp; Carter subject to Ford &amp; Carter's ability to
+      make delivery and to prior sale. Before Ford &amp; Carter could make them
+      firm orders and get in over their heads, I tipped them off to the
+      possibility of this government embargo.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You tipped them off! How did you know the British Government was going to
+      clap an embargo on Australian wheat?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I didn't know,&rdquo; Redell confessed. &ldquo;I just guessed it would; so I
+      advised Ford than I did&mdash;and I made a trifle more than twenty-four
+      thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that so? Well, listen to me tell it; When you and I cashed in that day
+      our deal was closed wasn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'd played fair with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You certainly did, Gus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I was freed from any further obligations to take you into
+      partnership with me, was I not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's how I figure it, my boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's how I figured it also, Cappy. Consequently, being morally certain
+      that the British Government would place an embargo on the exportation of
+      Australian wheat&mdash;Cappy, you must admit that the British Government
+      would have been absolutely crazy if it hadn't&mdash;I just called on Gregg
+      &amp; Co. and bought another half million bushels of December wheat at
+      $1.83 to $1.84 a bushel. Then I sat tight and waited for that embargo
+      story to break. Cappy, do you know that story just raised hell on the
+      Chicago Pit today? The bears were caught napping; and the bulls got busy
+      and kicked the price up to $1.90 again, at which figure I unloaded and
+      took my profit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You amazing rascal! Why didn't you tip your partner off to that deal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We were no longer partners. You admitted that a moment ago. When I first
+      outlined this scheme I didn't have a dollar to spare with which I could
+      speculate. Every last cent was tied up in the business of the West Coast
+      Trading Company. So I schemed to take you in as a partner on one-half of
+      the deal; and you not only financed me but guaranteed me to the broker!
+      Your introduction was all I wanted. After that my credit was as good as
+      December wheat; in consequence of which, without a cent invested, I was
+      actually enabled to carry a trade for half a million bushels! Much obliged
+      to you, Cappy. You're a fine old sport, and I like you&mdash;I wouldn't be
+      surprised if you laid off on me after this&mdash;eh, Cappy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gus,&rdquo; said Cappy Ricks, &ldquo;one of these days the Democratic party is going
+      to wake up and discover that America isn't where they left it the night
+      before! And when that happens they're going to ask you about it, you&mdash;you&mdash;infer-nal&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The phone clicked. J. Augustus Redell had hung up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Drat it!&mdash;God bless him!&rdquo; murmured Cappy Ricks&mdash;and hung up,
+      too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Whenever Cappy Ricks made up his mind that his Blue Star Navigation
+      Company ought to add another vessel to its rapidly growing fleet, he
+      preferred to build her; for a few bitter experiences early in life had
+      convinced him that the man who buys the other fellow's ship quite
+      frequently is given a bonus in the shape of the other fellow's troubles&mdash;troubles
+      which have the unhappy faculty of tilting the profit-and-loss account over
+      into the red-ink figures. In order to avoid these troubles, therefore,
+      Cappy would summon his naval architect, whom he would practically drive to
+      distraction by fussing over the plans submitted before giving a final
+      grudging acceptance. The blue prints approved, Cappy would spend a week
+      picking holes in the specifications, and when there was no more fault to
+      find Mr. Skinner, his general manager and the president of the Ricks
+      Lumber &amp; Logging Company, would send a list of the timbers, planking,
+      and so on required, to one of Cappy's sawmills in Washington; for Cappy
+      had a theory&mdash;the good Lord knows why or where acquired&mdash;that
+      Douglas fir from the state of Washington was better for shipbuilding
+      purposes than Douglas fir grown in Oregon. Perhaps he figured that the
+      Columbia River, which separates the two states, made a difference in
+      grade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woods boss would then be adjured to select his trees with great care.
+      No tree would do that sprouted a limb within eighty feet of the butt, and
+      the butt had to be at least six feet in diameter, in order that it might
+      produce fine, clear, long-length planks that would not contain &ldquo;heart&rdquo;
+       timber&mdash;the heart of a log having a tendency to check or split when
+      seasoned. When the material was sawed a Blue Star steam schooner would
+      transport it to San Francisco Bay, and it would be stored in Cappy's
+      retail lumber yard in Oakland, to be seasoned and air-dried; following
+      which Cappy Ricks would let the contract for the building of the vessel to
+      a shipyard on Oakland Estuary, and sell the builder this seasoned stock at
+      the price of rough green material, even though it was worth two dollars a
+      thousand extra&mdash;not to mention the additional value for the
+      extra-long lengths furnished specially. Cappy's ancestors, back in Maine,
+      had built too many ships to have failed to impress upon him the wisdom of
+      this course; for, on this point at least, initial extravagance inevitably
+      develops into ultimate economy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Following the laying of the keel, Cappy would come out of retirement and
+      become an extremely busy man. He had the vessel's engines to consider; and
+      for two weeks his private office would resound with the arguments and
+      recriminations of Cappy and his port engineer. There would be much talk of
+      pistons, displacement of cylinders, stroke, reciprocating engines, steeple
+      compound and triple-expansion engines, Scotch boilers, winches,
+      compressors, dynamos, composition and iron propellers and the latest
+      developments in crude-oil burners. And on the day when the port engineer,
+      grown desperate because of the old man's opposition to some detail, would
+      fly into a rage and resign, Cappy would know that, at last, everything was
+      all right; whereupon he would scornfully reject the resignation and take
+      his port engineer to luncheon at the Commercial Club, just to show he
+      wasn't harboring a grudge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the meantime the port captain would be making daily visits to the
+      shipyard to make certain that the builder was holding rigidly to the
+      specifications and not trying to skimp here and there; and on Saturdays
+      Cappy would accompany him and satisfy himself that the port captain wasn't
+      being imposed upon. Finally the ship would be launched; and as she slid
+      down the ways Cappy Ricks would be standing on her forecastle head, his
+      old heart fluttering in his thirty-six-inch chest and his coat-tails
+      fluttering in the breeze, one arm round the port captain and the other
+      round the port engineer. As the hull slipped into the drink he would say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boys, this is the life! I love it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, there's
+      more romance in ships than you'll find in most married lives!&rdquo; Then he
+      would wave an arm up Oakland Estuary, which prior to the great war was the
+      graveyard of Pacific Coast shipping, and say with great pride: &ldquo;Well,
+      we've done a good job on this craft, boys; she'll never end in Rotten Row!
+      Every sliver in her is air-dried and seasoned. That's the stuff! Build 'em
+      of unseasoned material and dry rot develops the first year; in five years
+      they're punk inside, and then&mdash;some fine day they're posted as
+      missing at Lloyd's. Did you ever see a Blue Star ship lying in Rotten Row?
+      No; you bet you didn't&mdash;and you never will! I never built a cheap
+      boat and I never ran 'em cheap. By gravy, the Blue Star ships are like the
+      Blue Nose that owns 'em! They'll be found dead on the job!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite early in 1915 the Blue Star Navigation Company had found ample
+      opportunity, due to a world scarcity of tonnage, to dispose of several of
+      their oldest and smallest steam schooners at unbelievably fine prices.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get rid of them, Matt,&rdquo; Cappy advised his son-in-law, Captain Matt
+      Peasley, whom he had made president of the company. &ldquo;You have the
+      permission of the president emeritus to go as far as you like. Big boats
+      for us from now on, boy. Slip the little ones while the slipping is good.
+      These high prices will not prevail very long&mdash;only while the war
+      continues; and at the rate they're slaughtering each other over in France
+      the war will be over in six months; then prices will fall kerflump! Then
+      we'll build a couple of real steamers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Matt Peasley promptly sold five steam schooners, following which he
+      made up his mind that the world still had two years of war ahead of it.
+      Accordingly he urged the letting of contracts for two
+      seven-thousand-five-hundred-ton steel freighters immediately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing doing!&rdquo; Cappy declared. &ldquo;Why, it's rank nonsense to think of
+      building now at wartime prices. If our recent sales have pinched us for
+      tonnage we'll have to charter from our neighbors and worry along as best
+      we can until the war is over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're making a mistake, Cappy Ricks,&rdquo; his son-in-law warned him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask Skinner if I am. Skinner, let's have your opinion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner, always cautious and ultra-conservative promptly advised
+      against Matt Peasley's course; but Matt would not be downed without a
+      fight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know prices for ship construction are fearfully high just now,&rdquo; he
+      admitted; &ldquo;but&mdash;mark my words!&mdash;they're going to double; and if
+      we place our contracts now, while we have an opportunity to do so, we'll
+      be getting in on the ground floor. I tell you that war hasn't really
+      started yet; and the longer it continues the higher will prices on all
+      commodities soar&mdash;but principally on ship construction.
+      Father-in-law, I beg of you to let me get busy and build. Suppose the
+      boats do cost us a quarter of a million dollars more each than we could
+      have built them for in 1914. What of it? We have the money&mdash;and if we
+      didn't have it we could borrow it. I don't care what a ship costs me when
+      freight rates are soaring to meet the advance in construction costs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, Cappy and Mr. Skinner hooted him down. Three months later,
+      however, when Cappy Ricks had changed his mind, and Mr. Skinner was too
+      heartbroken to curse himself for a purblind idiot, it was too late to
+      place the contracts. Every shipyard in the United States and abroad was
+      loaded up with building orders for three years in advance, and the Blue
+      Star Navigation Company was left to twiddle its corporate thumbs. Matt
+      Peasley was so angry that he almost speculated on the delight of being at
+      sea again, in command of a square rigger, with Cappy Ricks and Mr. Skinner
+      signed on as A.B.'s; in which condition of servitude he might dare to call
+      them aft and knock their heads together. However, he managed to have his
+      revenge. Every time nitrate freights went up a dollar a ton he told them
+      about it with great gusto, and the day he chartered the <i>Tillicum</i>
+      for Vladivostok, with steel for the Russian Government at seventy-five
+      dollars a ton, he had poor Cappy moaning in his wretchedness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just think how nice it would be,&rdquo; he taunted his aged relative, &ldquo;if we
+      had only placed contracts for two big boats when I urged it. By the middle
+      of summer I'd have them both on the Vladivostok run&mdash;perhaps at a
+      hundred dollars a ton; and long before the war is over you could do what
+      you've been trying to do for the past ten years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do what?&rdquo; Cappy queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Retire!&rdquo; Matt retorted meaningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In-fernal young scoundrel!&rdquo; Cappy was angry enough to commit murder. &ldquo;Out
+      of my office!&rdquo; he shrilled, and pointed to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      For once in his busy life it was, figuratively speaking, raining duck
+      soup, and poor Cappy was there with a fork! When he had recovered his
+      composure he sent for Matt Peasley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt, my dear boy,&rdquo; he confessed miserably, &ldquo;this is certainly one
+      occasion upon which father appears to have overlooked his hand. However,
+      none of us is perfect; and if we're caught out without an umbrella, so to
+      speak&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We?&rdquo; Matt reminded him witheringly. &ldquo;Cappy, it's all right to use that
+      'we' stuff when you're talking to Skinner, but trot out the perpendicular
+      pronoun when you're talking to me. I hate to say 'I told you so'; but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lay off me!&rdquo; Cappy pleaded. &ldquo;I'm an old man, Matt; so be easy on me.
+      Besides, I don't make a mistake very often, and you know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do know it. But when you blocked me on that building scheme you
+      certainly made up for lost time. Really, Cappy, you mustn't make me play
+      so close to my vest in these brisk times. If I'm to manage the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company I mustn't have my ideas pooh-poohed as if I were a
+      hare-brained child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, Matt; I know. But I built up the Blue Star Navigation Company and
+      the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company by playing 'em close, and it's a
+      hard habit to break.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However, let us forget the past and look forward with confidence to the
+      future. Matt, my dear boy, since we cannot get a shipyard to build a
+      steamer for us, I'm going to break a rule of forty years' standing and buy
+      one in the open market. I guess that'll prove to you I'm not so hide-bound
+      with conservatism as you think. Go forth into the highways and the byways,
+      Matt, and see what they have for sale.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How high do you want me to go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As high as they hung Haman&mdash;if you find it necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's certainly a free hand; but I'm afraid it comes too late. I doubt
+      if there is an owner with the kind of steamer we want who is crazy enough
+      to sell her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tish! Tush! All things are for sale all the time. Scour the market, Matt,
+      and you'll find Cappy Ricks isn't the only damned fool left in the
+      shipping business. My boy, you'd be surprised at the number of so-called
+      business men who are entirely devoid of imagination. Dozens of them still
+      think the war will end this fall, but I'm willing to make a healthy bet
+      that the fall of 1917 still finds them going to it to beat four of a
+      kind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You said something that time, father-in-law,&rdquo; Matt replied laughingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he roughed the old man affectionately and went forth into California
+      Street, where he wore out much shoe leather before he located what he
+      considered a bargain and reported back to the president emeritus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're right, Cappy!&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;You aren't the only boob in the
+      shipping business. I've located another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what you get by taking father's advice,&rdquo; Gappy retorted proudly.
+      &ldquo;Have you bought a steamer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but I'm going to buy one this afternoon. She's going to cost us half
+      a million dollars, cash on the nail, and I have an option on her at that
+      figure until noon today. Skinner has a lot of lumber money he isn't using,
+      and I'm going to borrow a quarter of a million from his company on the
+      Blue Star note at six per cent. Don't want to run our own treasury too
+      low.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dog-gone that Skinner! That's some more of his efficiency. I own both
+      companies, and it's just like taking money out of one pocket and putting
+      it into the other; but Skinner's a bug on system. Just think of making me
+      pay myself six per cent interest! However, I suppose we must have some
+      kind of order. What's the name of the steamer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>Penelope</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair, placed one hand on each
+      knee, and appraisingly eyed his son-in-law over the rims of his glasses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say that again, Matt&mdash;and say it slow,&rdquo; he ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said <i>Penelope&mdash;P-e-n-e-l-o-p-e</i>. Maybe you call her the <i>Pen-elope!</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you buying her as is?&rdquo; Matt nodded. &ldquo;To hear you tell it, Matt, one
+      might gather the impression that half a million dollars is about what we
+      give the janitor at Christmas. Boy, half a million dollars is real money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the shipping business these days, Cappy. Why, you have to wave
+      that much under an owner's nose before he'll look up and show interest
+      enough to ask you who you are and who let you in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the man who would, in cold blood, consider paying half a million
+      dollars for the <i>Penelope</i> is certainly ripe for a padded cell,&rdquo;
+       Cappy jeered. &ldquo;That fellow Hudner, of the Black Butte Lumber Company, owns
+      her, does he not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you know exactly the condition she's in. I'll bet a cooky her bottom
+      plates are rusted so thin from lack of an occasional coat of red paint
+      that if you were to stand on her bridge and toss a tack hammer down her
+      main hatch you'd punch a hole in her. She's a long, narrow-gutted, cranky
+      coffin&mdash;that's what she is; and the worst-found ship in Pacific
+      waters. Why, let me tell you something, young man: she can't get by the
+      inspectors this minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has just gotten by them,&rdquo; Matt contradicted. &ldquo;Passed yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that signify? When her skipper has her up for inspection he
+      scours the water front like a hungry dog, borrowing a boathook here, a
+      sound life-boat there, some fire buckets elsewhere, a hose from the fire
+      tug, and a lot of engine-room tools wherever he can get them. As for life
+      preservers, he rents them for ten cents each from a marine junk dealer.
+      So, when the inspectors arrive, the <i>Penelope</i> is a well-found ship;
+      as soon as they pass her the skipper returns the equipment, with thanks.
+      As for paint&mdash;why, the only painting she ever gets is when Hudner
+      lays her alongside some British ship to discharge a foreign cargo of
+      lumber into the lime-juicer; then her mate steals all the paint in the
+      Britisher's lazaret. The poor, unfortunate devil! He has to do something
+      to make a showing with the <i>Penelope's</i> owner! I tell you, Matt, I
+      know this man Hudner! He's as thrifty as an Armenian and as slippery as a
+      skating rink. He's laying to stab you, boy. Mind your step!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even so, Cappy, she's a bargain. I expect to spend fifty thousand dollars
+      putting her in first-class condition after we get her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You expect to spend it! Why, how you talk! Hudner is the one that should
+      spend that money. For the love of trade, what is he selling you? A ship or
+      a hulk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't care what she is; we can make her pay for herself and earn half a
+      million or a million extra before this war ends. And she won't be such a
+      bad vessel after she's shipped a couple of new plates. She has a dead
+      weight capacity for six thousand tons and was built at Sunderland in 1902.
+      When she went ashore off Point Sur, in 1909, Hudner bought her from the
+      underwriters for five thousand dollars and spent more than half her
+      original cost repairing her. That, of course, made her tantamount to a
+      ship built in the United States, and under American registry she can run
+      between American ports. And that's what we want. She'll be just the thing
+      to carry lumber to New York, via the Canal, when the war ends and the
+      nitrate harvest is over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks threw up his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see before you, my boy,&rdquo; he said mournfully, &ldquo;a dollar-burdened,
+      world-weary old man, who for ten years has been trying to retire from
+      active business, and cannot. The reason is he dassent; if he dassed, this
+      shebang would be in the hands of the sheriff within a year. Now, listen,
+      young feller! I know all about the <i>Penelope</i>. Before the war she had
+      repaid Hudner, with interest, every cent she cost him, and since the war I
+      suppose she's made half a million dollars. Now when Hudner finds he has to
+      spend a lot of money fixing her up, he figures it's best to get rid of her
+      and saddle somebody else with the bill. Her intrinsic value is just about
+      one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, and when Hudner asks half a
+      million for her he expects to get four hundred and fifty thousand. In
+      order to play safe, go back and offer him four hundred thousand dollars;
+      presently he'll come down fifty thousand and you'll come up fifty
+      thousand, and the trade will be closed on that basis. Meantime I'll sit
+      here and weep as I reflect on the cost of putting that ruin in fit shape
+      to receive a Blue Star house flag. I tell you, Matt, I wouldn't send
+      Pancho Villa to sea in her as she is now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley, like Cappy Ricks, was a Yankee; when he did business he
+      liked to chaffer; and, after all&mdash;he thought&mdash;there was a
+      certain shrewd philosophy in what his foxy father-in-law had said. At
+      least Cappy had supplied him with ammunition for argument; so he went back
+      to Hudner's office and argued and pleaded and ridiculed, but all to no
+      avail. He returned to Cappy Ricks' office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fought him all over his office,&rdquo; he complained, &ldquo;but he wouldn't come
+      down a cent. I think we'd better take a chance and give him half a
+      million.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fiddlesticks! Stay with him, Matt. I know Hudner. He acts like he's full
+      of bellicose veins, but anybody can outgame him. Let your option expire;
+      then to-morrow meet him accidentally on 'Change and talk with him half an
+      hour about everything on earth except the S. S. <i>Penelope</i>. Just
+      before you leave him he'll grab you by the lapel of your coat and ask if
+      you're still interested in the <i>Penelope</i>. Then you say: 'Why, yes&mdash;moderately;
+      but not at half a million.' Then you make him a firm offer&mdash;for the
+      last time&mdash;of four hundred and fifty thousand dollars; and he'll say:
+      'I'll split the difference with you'&mdash;and before he can crawfish you
+      accept. You're bound to make at least twenty-five thousand by following my
+      advice, Matt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley ran his big hand through his thick black locks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By jingo,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;we'd make twenty-five thousand dollars while
+      we're dickering with Hudner!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, my boy; but then I don't like Hudner, and it's awful to do
+      business with a son of a horsethief you don't like and let him put one
+      over on you. That's the thrill of doing business, Matt. Though I'd hate to
+      have anybody think I'm in business for fun, still, if I thought I couldn't
+      get some fun out of business I'd go right down to Mission Street Wharf and
+      end all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nitrate freights are up to thirty dollars a ton,&rdquo; said Matt later that
+      day. &ldquo;They were twelve a year and a half ago. Cappy, we can't risk the
+      delay; and I'm sorry I took your advice and let my option expire. I insist
+      on buying.&rdquo; He reached for Cappy's desk 'phone. &ldquo;I'm going to tell Hudner
+      to prepare the bill of sale&mdash;that I'll be up in fifteen minutes with
+      the check. He who hesitates is lost, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened and a youth stood in the entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. J. O. Heyfuss is calling,&rdquo; he announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Show him in immediately,&rdquo; Cappy ordered, glad of the opportunity to delay
+      Matt's telephonic acceptance of the vessel at Hudner's price. &ldquo;Hold on a
+      minute, Matt,&rdquo; he continued, turning to his son-in-law. &ldquo;Heyfuss is a ship
+      broker; maybe he has a ship to sell us; she might prove to be a better buy
+      than the <i>Penelope</i>... Howdy, Heyfuss? Come in and sit down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Heyfuss entered smilingly, saluted both satellites of the Blue Star
+      and sat down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, gentlemen,&rdquo; he announced, &ldquo;wonders will never cease. Every day I'm
+      seeing, hearing and doing wonderful things in the shipping business. Day
+      before yesterday I bought the old barkentine <i>Mayfair</i>. She'd been
+      laid up in Rotten Row for seven years, and for at least four years the
+      tide has been rising and falling inside her. She cost me seven hundred and
+      fifty dollars, and I sold her the same afternoon to Al Hanify for a
+      thousand. Not very much of a profit; but then it was Saturday and
+      everybody closes up shop at noon, you know. So I felt the day wasn't a
+      blank, anyhow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do you suppose Al did? You'll laugh. He called up Crowley her
+      out on Hanlon's Marine Way, putting a new bottom in her. They're going to
+      spend twenty thousand dollars on her; and when she's ready for sea Redell
+      has a cargo of fir for Sydney waiting for her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll come back with coal and make her owners at least fifty thousand
+      dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all very interesting to outsiders, but commonplace stuff to us,&rdquo;
+       Cappy reminded his visitor. &ldquo;Have you got a commission to sell a ship for
+      somebody?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Want one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surest thing you know!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll sell you the <i>Alden Besse</i>. She's an old tea
+      clipper, built in the forties; but she's sound and tight. Been a motion
+      picture ship for the past five years. I can deliver her to you for forty
+      thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you'll not. I sold her to the motion picture people for fifteen
+      hundred,&rdquo; Cappy countered, &ldquo;and I don't want her back at any price. I send
+      my boys to sea to earn a safe living, not to visit Davy Jones' locker.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I think I might get you the old Australian prison ship, <i>Success</i>.
+      She was built at Rangoon in 1790, of teak, and will last forever. Perhaps
+      you saw her when she was exhibited at the Exposition last year. Might get
+      her for you kind of cheap.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing doing. Heyfuss, we want a steamer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorry, but I haven't a thing in steamers. Just sold the last one I had
+      ten minutes ago&mdash;the <i>Penelope</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The what!&rdquo; Matt Peasley and Cappy cried in chorus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>Penelope</i>. Sold her to a big Eastern powder company. She goes
+      into the nitrate trade, of course. These munition manufacturers must have
+      powder, and to get powder they must have nitrate, and to get nitrate they
+      must have ships, and to get ships they must pay the price. I got Hudner a
+      million dollars for that ruin of a <i>Penelope.</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley gently seized J. O. Heyfuss by the ear and led him to the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out, thief!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;You can't sell us anything; so we don't want you
+      hanging round this office. You might steal the safe or a roll-top desk, or
+      something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Heyfuss departed, laughing good-naturedly, and Matt Peasley turned to
+      confront Cappy Ricks. The latter had shrunk up in his chair and was
+      looking as chopfallen and guilty as a dog caught sucking eggs. He favored
+      his big son-in-law with a quick, shifty glance, and then looked down at
+      the carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt folded his arms and stared at him until he looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you go to pick on me!&rdquo; he warned Matt furiously. &ldquo;I'll not be
+      picked on in my own office, even by a relative.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt threw back his head and chanted,
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   <i>&ldquo;There was I, waiting at the church,
+    Waiting at the church&mdash;&rdquo;</i>
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was right!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled. &ldquo;My mode of procedure was without a flaw.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely! The operation was a success, but the patient died.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But a feller just has to haggle!&rdquo; Cappy wailed. He was almost on the
+      verge of tears. &ldquo;It's the basic principle of all trading. Why, I've made
+      my everlasting fortune by haggling. Drat your picture, don't you know that
+      the very pillars of financial success rest on counter-propositions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen, relative, listen: I haven't said a word to you, have I?&rdquo; Matt
+      replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but you looked it, and I'll not be looked at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Cappy, I'll not look. But I can't help thinking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thinking what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That it's about time you quit talking about retiring&mdash;and retired!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0046" id="link2HCH0046"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      With this Parthian shot Matt himself retired, leaving Cappy to shiver and
+      bow his head on his breast; in which position he remained motionless for
+      fully an hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess the boy's right,&rdquo; he soliloquized finally. &ldquo;I think I'd better
+      retire, after pulling that kind of a deal twice in the same place. The
+      pace is getting too swift for me, I think; I can't keep up... Well, I
+      guess they've got the goods on me this time. Matt was certainly on the job
+      twice, and I blocked him both times ... Oh, Lord! I'll never hear the last
+      of this... By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I've lost my punch! Matt didn't
+      say so; but he thinks it. And I don't blame him a bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door of Cappy's office opened and again the youth stood in the
+      entrance. &ldquo;Mr. Redell is calling; there's a gentleman with him,&rdquo; he
+      announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell 'em I'm busier'n a cranberry merchant,&rdquo; Cappy snarled. &ldquo;And unless
+      you're figuring on hunting a new job, my son, don't you come in here again
+      today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The youth retired. However, he knew from experience that Cappy Ricks never
+      discharged anybody save for insubordination or rank incompetence; hence,
+      he did not hesitate to disobey the old gentleman's edict.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Redell says his business is very important,&rdquo; he announced, presenting
+      himself once more at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right! No rest for the weary. Show them in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      J. Augustus Redell entered, accompanied by no less a personage than the
+      British Consul. Cappy greeted them without enthusiasm and bade them be
+      seated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; J. Augustus Redell announced cheerily, &ldquo;It's plain to be seen that
+      Little Sunshine hasn't been round this office recently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy grunted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's gone wrong, Cappy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything! Been going wrong for years and I never realized it until this
+      afternoon. Ah, Gus, my dear young friend, how I envy you your youth, your
+      capacity to think, your golden dreams, your boundless energy, your ability
+      to make two-dollar bills grow where one-dollar bills grew before, thus
+      making an apparently barren prospect as verdant as a meadow in spring. But
+      make the most of your opportunity, young feller! The day will come to you,
+      as it has come to me, when everything you do will be done twenty minutes
+      too late; when every dollar you make will be subject to a cash discount of
+      one hundred per cent; when every competitor you held cheap will suddenly
+      develop the luck of the devil, the brains of a Demosthenes, and the
+      courage of a hog going to war.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should judge that you have recently suffered a great bereavement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have, Augustus, I have. Through my indecision I have just lost a bank
+      roll a greyhound couldn't have jumped over. Suppose it was a paper profit?
+      I grieve just the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forget it, Cappy! Life is real, life is earnest, and you have a bank roll
+      of real profits a giraffe couldn't reach the top of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it isn't the money, Gus. Money is only a vulgar symbol of my
+      bereavement. The trouble is&mdash;I've lost my punch! I can't think, Gus;
+      I can't act promptly. I'm out of touch with my times. I remind myself of
+      nothing so much as the old rooster that suddenly discovered he had been
+      elected to furnish the dinner the following Sunday. His hens cackled and
+      called to him that they had found some worms, but he wouldn't pay any
+      attention to them; just leaned up against the wire netting in the poultry
+      yard and said to himself: 'Oh, hell! What's the use? Today an egg&mdash;tomorrow
+      a feather duster!'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be pessimistic, Cappy. Don't! It doesn't become you, and I don't
+      believe a word you're telling me. You're still the old he-fox of the
+      world; and I've come to you for help on a deal that's going to mean a
+      whole lot of money to both of us if we can only put it through.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sorry, Gus, but I'm not interested. As a matter of fact, I've
+      retired.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! Nonsense! I know where there's a beautiful ten-thousand-ton,
+      net register, steel steamer to be bought for three hundred thousand
+      dollars&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks threw out an arm and pressed his hand against Redell's mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sh-h-h!&rdquo; he warned. &ldquo;Sh-h-h! Hush!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the agility of a man half his age Cappy ran to the door, bolted it on
+      the inside and returned to his desk. He was rubbing his hands and his eyes
+      were aglow with interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you sh-h-h-ing about?&rdquo; Redell demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt Peasley and that cowardly Skinner. Not a word of this to them, Gus!
+      Not&mdash;a&mdash;whisper!&rdquo; And he winked one eye and twisted up the
+      corner of his mouth knowingly. Mr. Redell nodded his promise and Cappy
+      went on: &ldquo;Now Gus, my dear young friend, start in at the beginning and
+      tell me everything. I assume, of course, that this is real business and
+      not another of your jokes on the old man. Word of honor, Gus?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Word of honor, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right; blaze away! Come, come! What have you got to offer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a condition and I offer you a half interest in it if you can
+      suggest a plan to circumvent His Royal Highness, Kaiser Wilhelm&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum-m-m! Enough!&rdquo; Cappy interrupted, and turned to the British Consul:
+      &ldquo;This is an international affair, eh? See if I don't state the proposition
+      in a nutshell&mdash;if I may be pardoned the bromide. This steamer is a
+      German, and the proposition is to get her under the American flag so
+      firmly that she'll stay there; then, I suppose, we're to charter her to
+      the British Government, or one of Britain's allies&mdash;Russia, for
+      instance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      J. Augustus Redell and the British Consul exchanged admiring winks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did I tell you, Mister Consul?&rdquo; Redell declared triumphantly. &ldquo;Mr.
+      Ricks knows the story before we have told it. And yet he's complaining
+      about the loss of his punch!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy looked slightly self-conscious; it was plain the compliment pleased
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Gus, my boy,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;I have lost my punch, though at that
+      I'm not exactly a pork-and-beaner. Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! This must
+      be a hard order to fill. Mister Consul, when Gus Redell has to come to me
+      for help. That son of a gun can move faster and go through more obstacles
+      than quicksilver. Gus, what's gone wrong with you? Have you lost your
+      punch too? And at your age?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Looks like it, Cappy. I've thought and thought until I'm desperate, and
+      not an idea worth while has presented itself. That's why I've come to
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't guarantee a cure, my boy. But I'll say this much: If you
+      and I can't put this thing over, then it just isn't put-overable. Fire
+      away, Gus!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you ever heard of the steamer <i>Bavarian?&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course! She belongs to Adolph Koenitz and flies the German flag. Since
+      the war started she's been interned down in Mission Bay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Redell nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Adolph Koenitz never became an American citizen, despite the fact that he
+      had lived in San Francisco twenty years and operated three steamers out of
+      this port. He was a reserve officer in the German Navy; and when the war
+      broke out he interned his ships, placed his entire estate in his wife's
+      name and reported for duty. He perished in the Battle of Jutland, both his
+      boys were killed at Verdun, and now his widow would like to sell the <i>Bavarian</i>
+      and get some cash. She had a large income from an estate in Germany, but
+      the war cut that off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Also, it appears that Koenitz was rather heavily involved, and the
+      expense of maintaining those interned steamers, with their German crews
+      aboard, has his widow badly worried; in fact, she has reached the point
+      where she finds it necessary to sell one of the steamers in order to hang
+      on to the other two. She has tried to raise a mortgage on the <i>Bavarian</i>,
+      but nobody cares to loan money on an interned German steamer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naturally,&rdquo; Cappy replied sarcastically. &ldquo;And I'm amazed that you should
+      consider me boob enough to consider seriously buying the same steamer
+      outright! Gus, I'd have about as much use for that steamer as I would have
+      for a tail. Even if I should buy her now, and not use her until the war is
+      over, I should be risking my money; for the German Government, if you
+      remember, issued an order in 1915 forbidding its subjects to sell their
+      interned ships without the consent of the said government. And, even if
+      Mrs. Koenitz can procure the Kaiser's consent, I fail to see the wisdom of
+      tying up three hundred thousand dollars in an idle investment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but under those circumstances she wouldn't be an idle investment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she would, my boy. Great Britain issued an Order in Council in 1914
+      notifying all neutral nations that she would not sanction the transfer of
+      registry of any German vessel. A few daring devils took a chance&mdash;and
+      what happened? The British Navy overhauled the ships at sea and took them
+      into a British port where a British prize court confiscated them. There is
+      the case of the <i>Mazatlan</i>, for instance. She was German owned and
+      flew the German flag; her owner put her under the Mexican flag, and
+      subsequently she was sold at a bargain to one of our neighbors, who put
+      her under American registry. Do you know where the <i>Mazatlan</i> is now?
+      Well, I'll tell you: She's freighting war munitions for Johnny Bull&mdash;and
+      our optimistic neighbor isn't collecting the freight money either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite true, Mr. Ricks; quite true&mdash;in ordinary cases,&rdquo; the Consul
+      told him smilingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! I smell a mouse. Hum-m-m! That simplifies
+      matters. We-l-l! If you are in position, Mister Consul, to give me your
+      word of honor as a gentleman and an officer of your king that the British
+      Navy will turn its blind side to the <i>Bavarian</i> when she puts to sea,
+      I'll buy the <i>Bavarian</i> so fast it'll make your head swim. In return
+      for this favor, of course, I am to charter the ship at the going rates to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our ally, the Russian Government, Mr. Ricks. And you have my word of
+      honor, which is all I can give you; for a deal like this, as you know,
+      cannot be made in writing. I have had the matter up with the Admiralty,
+      however, and permission has been granted me to give the verbal assurance
+      of my government.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll make a finger bet with your government, Mister Consul. As for Kaiser
+      Bill's consent to the transfer&mdash;<i>heraus mit 'em!</i> We'll get
+      along without that. Wilhelm doesn't cut much ice with me these days and
+      I'm willing to wager the price of the <i>Bavarian</i> that such ice as he
+      does cut will blame soon melt. Gus, you say Mrs. Koenitz wants to sell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she doesn't care who buys?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a particle! She's sore on the Kaiser; it's been thumbs down on
+      Wilhelm ever since Adolph and the boys lost the number of their mess. She
+      says to me: 'Herr Riddle, dot Kaiser orders war like I order beer!'
+      However, there's an 'if' to the transfer. While we know the British Navy
+      will not bother us should we buy the steamer, still enthusiastic
+      Britishers all over the world will have their eyes on the <i>Bavarian</i>
+      and clamor for her capture. Great Britain cannot publicly&mdash;or, at
+      least, obviously&mdash;make any exceptions to her Order in Council, and
+      we'll have to mess up that steamer's title and nativity to save John
+      Bull's social standing. We must make a bluff at deceiving him. If we can
+      show some sort of legal transfer to another flag J. B. can play blindman's
+      buff with dignity and honor; otherwise nix!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks' eyes sought the ceiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have I done to deserve this?&rdquo; he demanded of an invisible Presence.
+      &ldquo;Why am I afflicted thus? Job had his boils; but you and I, Augustus, are
+      covered with a financial rash, bleeding at every pore, and with no relief
+      in sight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you this was a tough one, Cappy. I've pondered the situation until
+      my brain is addled like a last year's nest egg, and finally I've come to
+      you as a last resort. If you can't cook up an airtight scheme, then there
+      is no help; and I'm going to forget the <i>Bavarian</i> and attend to some
+      business more profitable and less debilitating.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There must be an out, Gus. It's too good a thing to abandon. Suppose you
+      and the Consul go away and give me time to concentrate my thoughts on this
+      problem. It's a holy terror; but&mdash;Well, I've seen dogs almost as sick
+      as this one cured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you!&rdquo; Mr. Redell murmured fervently. &ldquo;Consul, let us depart and
+      leave Mr. Ricks to himself. Call me up, Cappy, when you see a ray of
+      light. Two heads are better than one, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0047" id="link2HCH0047"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      When his visitors had gone Cappy Ricks gave orders that he was not to be
+      disturbed on any pretext whatever. Then he locked himself in, swung his
+      legs to the top of his desk, slid low in his chair until he rested on his
+      spine, bowed his head on his breast and closed his eyes. The battle was
+      on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One hour later J. Augustus Redell entered breathlessly in response to a
+      telephonic invitation from Cappy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gus,&rdquo; the latter began, &ldquo;am I right in assuming that you possess a
+      reasonable amount of influence with that hair-trigger partner of yours,
+      Live Wire Luiz?&rdquo; Redell nodded. &ldquo;And is Luiz absolutely trustworthy? Will
+      he stay put and keep his mouth closed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is my partner, Cappy. He's mercurial, but a gentleman. I'd trust him
+      with my life, and I always trust him with my bank roll. He requires no
+      watching.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! Gus, send Live Wire Luiz down to Guaymas and have him incorporate
+      the North and South American Steamship Company there, under the extremely
+      flexible and evershifting laws of the Republic of Mexico. Luiz is a
+      Peruvian and speaks Spanish, and knows the Mexican temperament. He can
+      easily procure three Mexicans to act as a dummy board of directors; his
+      own name, of course, for obvious reasons, must never appear in connection
+      with this company. A thousand dollars ought to cover this Mexican
+      expense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Consider that point attended to, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine! Now then, when this corporate vehicle is in running order and has
+      opened an office in Guaymas, Live Wire Luiz will write your company, The
+      West Coast Trading Company, saying that his company has been referred to
+      you by some mutual friends in Guaymas. Of course Luiz doesn't sign this
+      letter. It is signed by the North and South American Steamship Company,
+      per the dummy secretary or president. The letter goes on to say that the
+      latter company is in the market for a steamer, the general specifications
+      of which, singularly enough, fit the <i>Bavarian.</i> The vessel is to be
+      used for transporting troops up and down the west coast of Mexico and for
+      freighting munitions from Japan; and in a delicate way it might be hinted
+      that the de facto Mexican Government is the real buyer. A commission of
+      five per cent is offered you for buying the vessel for them, said
+      commission to be split fifty-fifty with the North and South American
+      Steamship Company; this being the Mexican way of doing business, as you
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Consider that matter attended to also. I'll write the letter myself
+      before Luiz starts for Guaymas, so I'll be certain the job will be done
+      exactly right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As soon as you receive this letter you get busy and wire the North and
+      South American Steamship Company that you have just the vessel they want,
+      price three hundred thousand dollars. Live Wire Luiz will then cause a
+      reply to that telegram to be sent, advising you that his clients would not
+      balk at paying half a million! That, of course, is hint enough for you.
+      Right away you see the old Mexican graft sticking out, and you say to
+      yourself, 'Why not?' And you do! You reply to that telegram, saying you
+      erred when naming the price in your first telegram; that it is five
+      hundred thousand instead of three. Then you come down to me and I hand you
+      three hundred thousand dollars in currency; for in such a transaction as
+      this, checks, with their indorsements, provide a trail that may prove
+      embarrassing. You take that money and deposit it in escrow in any local
+      bank against a bill of sale of the <i>Bavarian</i> from Mrs. Koenitz to
+      the North and South American Steamship Company, of Guaymas, Mexico. Before
+      doing so, however, have Mrs. Koenitz place the vessel under Mexican
+      registry. She can do that through the Mexican Consul for the de facto
+      government; and when the bill of sale is turned over to you, record it
+      promptly with the Mexican Consul. Later you will record it in Mexico.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The vessel is now the property of the North and South American Steamship
+      Company; and the North and South American Steamship Company is the
+      property of Cappy Ricks and the West Coast Trading Company, per Senor
+      Felipe Luiz Almeida. But we must never admit this. To have the North and
+      South American Steamship Company transfer the vessel to us would be very
+      coarse work indeed; so we must avoid that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll get to that presently. The steamer is now in our possession, and you
+      will already have notified her German skipper and crew to hunt a new
+      residence. You will then put an American skipper in charge and ship
+      American engineers and a crew of parrakeets; and on the very day the sale
+      is consummated, just before the customhouse closes, have the skipper clear
+      the vessel for Guaymas and put to sea that night. Since she carries no
+      cargo the collector of the port will not stop you; the risk of going to
+      sea is all our own&mdash;if we care to take it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The next day the newspaper boys will be hot on the trail. An interned
+      German merchantman has suddenly transferred to Mexican registry and put to
+      sea! Now! Inquiry at the customhouse and at the Mexican consulate shows
+      that the vessel has been sold, and the trail leads straight to the office
+      of the West Coast Trading Company. You are interviewed&mdash;and say
+      nothing; and that day, when I appear on 'Change, these baffled journalists
+      drive me into a corner and ask me what I think about it. And I'll tell
+      them it's just another case of the lowly Mexican peon being hornswoggled
+      by the foxy Americano. The Mexicans wanted a ship and asked the American
+      to buy one for them. He did&mdash;only he forgot to tell them she was a
+      German. She was such a good buy they snapped her up without asking
+      questions, though in all probability the poor devils had no knowledge of
+      Kaiser Wilhelm's edict that no German ships shall be sold without the
+      consent of the German Government. I will say that it looks to me as if the
+      ancient rule of <i>caveat emptor</i> applied, and that the Mexicans are
+      stung and have no comeback. Then, again, it may be a shrewd German trick
+      to put something over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they make a snorting story out of what I give them; the frau's
+      friends read it and think she's done something smart. Nobody feels sorry
+      for a Mexican. Next morning you come out with a blast of righteous
+      indignation and admit that you cannot or will not deny that the vessel was
+      sold to parties representing the de facto Mexican Government. You deny,
+      however, that you sold them a pig in a poke; and the papers print a copy
+      of your letter to the North and South American Steamship Company
+      specifically advising them that the vessel was a German and liable to
+      prove an embarrassment. This, of course, clears you, and the blame for the
+      graft is placed where it belongs&mdash;on the shoulders of the North and
+      South American Steamship Company, which has deliberately stung the de
+      facto government!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cappy,&rdquo; said J. Augustus Redell admiringly, &ldquo;you're immense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I accept the nomination. Upon her arrival in Guaymas the <i>Bavarian's</i>
+      name is changed to <i>La Golondrina</i>, or <i>Sobre las Olas</i>, or <i>Manana</i>,
+      or <i>Poco Tiempo</i>&mdash;whatever's right. I think we may safely gamble
+      that she will arrive in Guaymas in the light of what the British Consul
+      told us; and, in view of her departure unannounced, no British warship on
+      the West Coast can get so far north as Guaymas in time to intercept her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, having changed her name, she picks up a general cargo and comes
+      back to San Francisco, where she goes on dry dock and is cleaned and
+      painted, has her gear overhauled, fills up with fuel oil and stores, and&mdash;but
+      that's enough. Now comes the blow-off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strange to relate, you haven't received a cent of that five-per-cent
+      commission due you from the North and South American Steamship Company for
+      buying the <i>Bavarian</i> for them. The issue is in dispute. They claim
+      you are not entitled to any commission, because you stung them with a
+      German vessel; and you claim you told them she was a German, but that they
+      needed her so badly they would take a chance. Also, the fact that she went
+      to sea that time in such a hurry, and forgot to pay for her fuel oil and
+      stores, looks rather suspicious; so, when the vessel comes off dry dock,
+      with about ten thousand dollars' worth of bills against her, you decide to
+      protect your claim for the commission&mdash;and, by the Holy Pink-Toed
+      Prophet, Gus, you libel her! The news breaks into the papers, and next day
+      every creditor of the ship files a libel on her, also, to protect his
+      claim. Gus, she'll have so many plasters on her she'll look like a German
+      coming home from the war.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      J. Augustus Redell leaped from his chair and picked little Cappy Ricks up
+      in his arms and hugged him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Cappy! Cappy!&rdquo; he yelled. &ldquo;You're the shadow of a rock in a weary
+      land&mdash;a cup of cool water in the suburbs of hell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you game?&rdquo; Cappy gurgled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does a cat eat liver? Cappy, you've solved the problem! Naturally the
+      North and South American Steamship Company does not directly or indirectly
+      make any attempt to lift these libels and get the vessel to sea. Why? I'll
+      tell you&mdash;or, rather, I'll tell the newspaper boys and they'll tell
+      everybody. It will appear that as soon as the Mexican Consul here got an
+      inkling of the apparent plan of the North and South American Steamship
+      Company, of Guaymas, to sting Don Venustiano Carranza by slipping him a
+      steamer with a clouded title, he must have wired Don Venustiano to round
+      up the directors of the said company and give them the <i>ley fuga</i>.
+      Fortunately for these culprits, however, they got next in time to get out
+      from under. Mounting swift steeds, the entire board of directors fled
+      north and east, never pausing until they had joined Pancho Villa; and we
+      learn from some Border gossips that all three subsequently were killed in
+      action. But, before leaving Guaymas, they left their tangled steamship
+      affairs in the hands of their attorney&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing doing, Gus! They left their tangled steamship affairs in the
+      hands of my attorney, and they gave him an absolute, ironclad, airtight
+      power of attorney to sell the ship, receive and receipt for all money due
+      the company, and so on, and so on, ad libitum, ad infinitum; said power of
+      attorney being nonrevocable for five years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great stuff! In due course the libelants sue in the United States
+      District Court; your attorney appears for the defendants and confesses
+      judgment, but pleads for a ten-day stay of execution until he can raise a
+      mortgage on the vessel. But, strange to relate, the ten-day stay expires
+      and the judgments against the steamer are not paid; so the judge of the
+      United States District Court orders the steamer sold at public auction on
+      the floor of the Merchants' Exchange to the highest bidder, to satisfy the
+      claims of the creditors. Thirty days later the United States Marshal
+      conducts the sale, and a gentleman named Cappy Ricks buys her in. The
+      United States Marshal gives the said Ricks a bill of sale for her, which
+      the said Ricks thereupon records in the United States Customhouse, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Und Hoch der Kaiser! Und Hoch der</i> John J. Bull! We've finally got
+      that clear American title we've been looking for. It makes no difference
+      what the nationality of a vessel is; the minute she enters the territorial
+      waters of the United States of America she is amenable to the laws of the
+      United States of America, one of which reads thusly: 'Thou shalt pay thy
+      bills; and if thou dost not, then <i>poco tiempo</i> thou shalt be made to
+      pay them, even unto the seizure and sale of thy ship.' And with the
+      purchase of that ship, under an order of sale issued by the United States
+      District Court, she becomes a United States ship; we register her as such;
+      and the United States simply has to stand back of the bill of sale it gave
+      us. Germany knows that; England knows it; Austria knows it; and from the
+      jackstaff of the late <i>Bavarian</i>, now renamed the <i>Alden M. Peasley</i>,
+      in honor of my first grandson, there floats&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      J. Augustus Redell raised his index finger, enjoining silence:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now then! One, two, three! Down, left, up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     <i>&ldquo;O-ho, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
+         What so-ho pro-houdly we hailed at the twilight's last
+            gleaming?&rdquo;</i>
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks sprang to attention. Presently, through the partition, his
+      cracked old voice reached Mr. Skinner:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     <i>&ldquo;Then conquer we must, when our cause is so just;
+         And this be our motto: 'May we nev-er go bust!'&rdquo;</i>
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's doing here?&rdquo; Mr. Skinner demanded, banging at the door, which was
+      locked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go way back and sit down!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled. &ldquo;I'll show you and Matt
+      Peasley where to head in, yet&mdash;see if I don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0048" id="link2HCH0048"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks and J. Augustus Redell arrived at the Merchants' Exchange
+      promptly at one o'clock on the date of the sale of the S. S. <i>General
+      Carranza,</i> as the <i>Bavarian</i> was now called. Just inside the door
+      they paused and looked at each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whe-e-e-ew!&rdquo; murmured Cappy Ricks. &ldquo;All the shipping men in the world are
+      here to bid on our property, Gus.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Redell whistled softly. &ldquo;This,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will be some auction!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is only one thing that a shipping man in this country has more
+      respect for than an Order in Council&mdash;and that is an Order in the
+      United States District Court!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naturally. It's backed up by our army and navy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, somebody's sporting blood is going to be
+      tested today; and something tells, me, Augustus, my dear young friend,
+      that it's going to be Matt Peasley's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes you think so, Cappy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Cappy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Having used German methods to bring about this auction sale,&rdquo; he
+      confessed, &ldquo;I concluded to steal a little more of this Teutonic stuff; so
+      I established a system of espionage in Skinner's office and another in
+      Matt Peasley's. Gus, I got a lot of low-down information on those two
+      young pups; they're trying to slip something over on the old dog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they'll never teach him any new tricks, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know it! I observe that, as usual, Jim Searles will conduct the
+      auction. He's climbing up on the block now, and, by the Toenails of Moses,
+      Matt Peasley is on the job! Look, Gus! You can see his black head sticking
+      up out of the heart of the riot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Cappy and Redell joined the crowd Jim Searles, by acclamation the
+      auctioneer of the Port of San Francisco, rapped smartly with his little
+      gavel, and a tense silence settled over the crowd.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; Mr. Searles announced, &ldquo;will be a fight to a finish, winner take
+      all. In accordance with an order of the United States District Court I am
+      about to sell, at public auction, to the highest bidder, the Mexican
+      Steamship <i>General Carranza</i>, ex-German Steamship <i>Bavarian</i>, to
+      satisfy the following judgments: Mr. J. Augustus Redell&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cut it out!&rdquo; roared Matt Peasley. &ldquo;We've all read the list of creditors,
+      and you're only gumming up the game. Come down to business Jim.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good boy, Peasley! Sure! Cut it out, Jim! Get busy!&rdquo; A dozen voices
+      seconded Captain Matt Peasley's motion and Jim Searles rapped for order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much am I offered?&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One million dollars!&rdquo; roared Matt Peasley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the fringe of the eager crowd Cappy Ricks leaned up against his friend
+      Redell and commenced to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The young scoundrel!&rdquo; he chortled. &ldquo;He never said a word to me about this
+      auction; he was afraid I'd butt in and block his purchase; so, for his
+      impudence, I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget. Bid, Gus! Bet 'em
+      as high as a hound's back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain Matt Peasley, representing the Blue Star Navigation Company, bids
+      one million dollars. Chicken feed! Won't some real sport please tilt the
+      ante?&rdquo; Jim Searles pleaded. &ldquo;Don't waste my time, gentlemen. It's
+      valuable. Let's get this thing over and go back to our offices.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One million five hundred thousand!&rdquo; called J. Augustus Redell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I called for a sport and drew a piker,&rdquo; Jim Searles retorted. &ldquo;Mr. J.
+      Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, bids a million and a
+      half.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Young Dalton Mann, representing the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, raised
+      his hand and snapped his fingers at the auctioneer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a hundred thousand!&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a hundred thousand!&rdquo; Matt Peasley retorted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And fifty thousand!&rdquo; Mann flung back at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley eyed his antagonist belligerently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's doing very well for a young fellow,&rdquo; Searles complimented the last
+      bidder. &ldquo;Skipper Peasley, are you going to let this landlubber outgame
+      you? He has bid a million and three-quarters. Think of the present high
+      freight rates and speak up, or remain forever silent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bidding had so suddenly and by such prodigious bounds reached the
+      elimination point that every piker present was afraid to open his mouth in
+      the presence of these plungers. Matt Peasley licked his lips and glanced
+      round rather helplessly. He knew he had about reached the limit of his
+      bidding, but he suspected that Mann had reached his also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And ten thousand!&rdquo; he shouted desperately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cheap stuff! Cheap stuff!&rdquo; the crowd jeered good-naturedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks nudged J. Augustus Redell as Mann waved his hand in token of
+      surrender. &ldquo;One million seven hundred and sixty thousand I am offered,&rdquo;
+       the auctioneer intoned. &ldquo;Any further bids?&rdquo; He waited a full minute; then
+      resorted to three minutes of cajolery, but in vain. There were no more
+      bids.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jim Searles raised his hammer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Going&mdash;once!&rdquo; he called&mdash;and waited. &ldquo;Going&mdash;twice!&rdquo;
+       Another pause. &ldquo;Going&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two million dollars!&rdquo; cried J. Augustus Redell; and a sigh went up from
+      the excited onlookers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Mr. Redell is a sport, after all! Two million, flat!&rdquo; Searles looked
+      down on Matt Peasley. &ldquo;Die, dog, or eat the meat ax!&rdquo; he warned the
+      unhappy young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let him have her,&rdquo; Matt growled; and, very red of face, he commenced to
+      shoulder his way through the crowd.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beat it, Cappy; he's coming!&rdquo; Redell warned the president emeritus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks, dodging round the flank of the crowd, fled through the side
+      entrance of the Merchants' Exchange; and he was tranquilly smoking a cigar
+      in his private office when Matt Peasley dropped in on him an hour later.
+      Cappy eyed him coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Skinner back from luncheon?&rdquo; he demanded. Matt nodded. &ldquo;Tell him to
+      come in here. I want to see him,&rdquo; Cappy continued ominously. &ldquo;And you
+      might stick round yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner made his appearance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      {Illustration: &ldquo;Two million dollars'&rdquo; cried J Augustus Redell.}
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Close the door,&rdquo; Cappy commanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner looked a little startled and surprised, but promptly closed
+      the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wanted to see me, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks edged forward until he was seated on the extreme edge of his
+      chair. Then he rested a hand on each knee, bent his head, and glared at
+      the unhappy Skinner over the rims of his glasses. After thirty seconds of
+      this scrutiny he turned to his son-in-law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I hear you've been attending an auction sale and making
+      a star-spangled monkey of yourself bidding a million seven hundred and
+      sixty thousand dollars on that Mexican steamer. Matt, have you taken leave
+      of your senses?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir&mdash;not quite; but Gus Redell has. He bought her in for two
+      million dollars. Of course he was acting for somebody else, because every
+      cent he has is working overtime in the West Coast Trading Company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; Cappy murmured. &ldquo;Then you didn't get her, after all?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir! So perhaps you'd better not holler until you're hit.&rdquo; Matt
+      sighed. &ldquo;By Neptune,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;I'd give a cooky to know the name of
+      the crazy man who paid two million dollars for that steamer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Behold the lunatic, Matt! Grandpa Ricks, in his second childhood! Gus
+      Redell was bidding for me, sonny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley sat down rather limply and stared at the president emeritus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cappy,&rdquo; he said presently, &ldquo;you sent a boy to do a man's work. I had the
+      boat bought for a million seven hundred and sixty thousand! For heaven's
+      sake, why didn't you tell me you wanted her? And I would have laid off.
+      For the love of heaven, why did you go bidding against me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why didn't you tell me you wanted her, you big simp?&rdquo; Cappy retorted.
+      &ldquo;You never said a word to me; and naturally Redell thought you were acting
+      for somebody else. He had orders from me to get her and damn the cost&mdash;and
+      he fulfilled his orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A comedy of errors, truly!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner observed witheringly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley raised his huge arms and clenched his great fists in agony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Cappy! Cappy!&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;Won't you please retire? You're just
+      raising hell with the organization!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Matt; I'll retire. But, before I do, I'm going to give Skinner
+      a piece of my mind. Skinner, what the devil do you mean by going up to the
+      Marine National Bank and borrowing a million dollars on the credit of the
+      Ricks Lumber Company? I admit I have given you entire charge of the lumber
+      end, and you were quite within your rights when you negotiated the loan
+      and signed the note as president; but how did it happen that you didn't
+      consult with the old man, if only as a matter of common courtesy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I-I-that is, I-well, I didn't mean to be discourteous, Mr. Ricks. Oh, I
+      wouldn't have you think, sir&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; you'd have me be a dummy if you could. Why, you almost put the skids
+      under me; because, when I went up to the Marine National to make a little
+      personal loan in a spirit of preparedness, I discovered that the loan you
+      had been given on my assets had jazzed my personal credit all to glory! I
+      used to be able to borrow a million dollars on my bare note; but I'll be
+      shot if they didn't make me dig up a lot of collateral this time! Skinner,
+      I wouldn't have thought that of you. After trusting you as I have done for
+      a quarter of a century, to find you giving me the double-cross just about
+      breaks my heart. Great Godfrey, Skinner, how could you be so false to me?
+      I expect that sort of thing from Matt&mdash;those one loves the best
+      always swat one; but from you&mdash;Skinner, I don't know what prevents me
+      from demanding your resignation here and now, unless it be because of your
+      previous splendid character and loyal service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Ricks, Mr. Ricks!&rdquo; Poor Skinner held up his hands appealingly and
+      commenced to weep. &ldquo;Please do not think ill of me. I swear&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You loaned the Ricks Lumber Logging Company's million dollars to Matt
+      Peasley to help buy that steamer for the Blue Star Navigation Company; and
+      he, the son of a pirate, went to work and borrowed it from you, well
+      knowing he had no business to do so. What are you paying the Marine
+      National for that money?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five per cent,&rdquo; Skinner sniffled, for his heart was broken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you soaking the Blue Star Navigation Company for it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Six,&rdquo; Skinner confessed miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right, Skinner, my boy. Cheer up! I forgive you. That little
+      profit of one per cent saves your bacon, boy. I guess there's some good
+      left in you still; and I'm happy to have this evidence that, though I own
+      both companies, you have not forgotten you are responsible for the
+      profit-and-loss account of one of them, and Matt Peasley for the other.
+      You did quite right to claim that one per cent jerk from Matt. Business is
+      business!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you bet it is!&rdquo; Matt Peasley struck in. &ldquo;And I want you to lay off
+      on Skinner, because what he did was done in fear and trembling, and under
+      duress. We were both afraid you'd block the purchase; so we agreed to keep
+      our plans secret from you, because&mdash;Well, somehow I did want that
+      bully big boat the very worst way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that's exactly the way you set about getting her, Matthew. However,
+      you're young&mdash;you don't know any better; so I forgive you. Of course
+      I realized you wanted, that steamer, boy. I knew your heart was set on
+      seeing our house flag floating from her mainstruck; so I&mdash;Well, I
+      just thought I'd get her for you, to sort of square myself for those two
+      bonehead plays I pulled earlier in the year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you shouldn't have paid two millions for her, Cappy! Business is
+      one thing and sentiment is another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I didn't pay any such price for her! Originally I bought her, as a
+      German, for three hundred thousand dollars; in addition to that I've spent
+      about ten thousand dollars improving her, and maybe five thousand more
+      fussing up the trail of my operations so no smart secret-service operative
+      could come round and hang something on me.&rdquo; He reached into his coat
+      pocket and drew forth the United States Marshal's bill of sale. &ldquo;Here,
+      sonny,&rdquo; he announced, &ldquo;is your Uncle Sam's certificate of title. Hustle up
+      to the customhouse and get it recorded; then make out a bill of sale for a
+      one-third interest to the West Coast Trading Company and record that also.
+      Then change her name to <i>Alden M. Peasley</i>, in honor of your
+      first-born, and put her under these two flags.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He jerked open a drawer in the desk and brought forth a bright new edition
+      of Old Glory, followed by the familiar white muslin burgee with the blue
+      star.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The United States Marshal has paid all the debts of the <i>Alden M.
+      Peasley</i>, and this afternoon he'll send his check for the proceeds of
+      the sale still remaining in his hands to my lawyer, who holds a most
+      ungodly power of attorney from that dummy Guaymas corporation Live Wire
+      Luiz organized to buy the ship for us. Our attorney will cash that check
+      and send the cash down to you. Please bank it to my credit and take up
+      that note I gave the Marine National; then get the securities I hocked and
+      tuck them back in my safe-deposit vault. As for the interest at five per
+      cent, which the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company will have to pay on
+      that million you borrowed to help Matt Peasley hornswoggle father, you
+      just charge that to your personal account as a penance for your sins. As
+      for the six per cent you pay the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company for
+      the money loaned your Blue Star Navigation Company, Matt Peasley, just
+      charge that to your personal account as a penance for your sins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both culprits nodded dazedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; Cappy continued, &ldquo;I'll tell you something else: The <i>Alden M.
+      Peasley</i> belongs to the West Coast Trading Company and Alden P. Ricks;
+      they own one-third for bringing the deal to my attention and furnishing
+      some labor, and I own two-thirds, or the lion's share, for doing a lion's
+      work&mdash;to wit, putting up the cash and promoting the deal to a clean
+      title. Consequently, though you two boys own a nice little block of stock
+      in the Blue Star Navigation Company, you don't own a red cent in the <i>Alden
+      M. Peasley</i>, because she doesn't belong to the Blue Star Navigation
+      Company, but to the president emeritus thereof. However, as I am about to
+      retire for keeps this time, I'll tell you what I purpose doing with my
+      two-thirds of the <i>Alden M. Peasley</i>: Skinner, my dear boy, I kidded
+      you into tears. Bless you, boy, it broke your heart when you thought your
+      old boss figured you'd quit being Faithful Fido, didn't it? Skinner,
+      loyalty like yours is very, very precious; and your affection is&mdash;er&mdash;Skinner,
+      you human icicle, you can't bluff me! I'm on to you, young feller! Matt,
+      you prepare a deed of gift for one-half of my two-thirds interest to
+      Skinner, and take the other half for yourself; and when the <i>Alden M.
+      Peasley</i> has earned what I put into her, credit my account with it.
+      After that, you and Skinner and Gus Redell and Live Wire Luiz can collect
+      the dividends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Ricks! This is too much,&rdquo; Skinner began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut, tut, sir! Not a peep out of you, sir! How dare you argue with me?
+      Now just one word more before you fellers go: The next time you boys go
+      bidding on a ship at auction, take a leaf out of Cappy Ricks' book and bid
+      against yourself! You can always scare the other fellows off that way; the
+      sky is the limit&mdash;and you're bound to get your money back. So you
+      should <i>Ish ka bibble</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you two young freshies go back to your desks and try to learn
+      humility. Thus endeth the first lesson, my children.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley came close to Cappy and put his big arm round the little old
+      man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cappy,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;please don't retire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, son,&rdquo; Cappy answered; &ldquo;but get that infernal cry-baby,
+      Skinner, out of my office. He's breaking my heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If J. Augustus Redell had been content to sue for peace following his deal
+      with Cappy in Australian wheat, all would have been well for that young
+      man. Alas! As we have already stated, he was young&mdash;and there is an
+      old saying to the effect that youth must be served. J. Augustus Redell,
+      like Oliver Twist, desired more. His triumph over Cappy in the wheat deal
+      merely whetted his desire for more of the Ricks blood, and in the end the
+      ingenious rascal evolved a plan for making Cappy the laughing stock of the
+      Bilgewater Club for a month of Sundays.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0049" id="link2HCH0049"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLIX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MONSIEUR LE CAPITAINE RICKS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks entered his office at the unheard-of hour of eight-thirty. On
+      his way to his sanctum at the end of the long suite of offices Cappy
+      paused in the lair of Mr. Skinner, who looked up, amazed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; he saluted the president emeritus. &ldquo;What brings you down on the
+      job so early this morning, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got a hen on,&rdquo; Cappy replied briskly. He glanced at Skinner and
+      rubbed his hands together. &ldquo;Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;this is
+      a one-horse concern.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three sawmills with a combined output of a million feet a day on a
+      ten-hour shift&mdash;not to mention a billion feet of stumpage&mdash;isn't
+      my idea of a one-horse concern,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner retorted with some asperity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut, tut, Skinner! I'm not referring to the lumber end at all; so don't
+      get touchy. I'm referring to the Blue Star Navigation Company. It's a
+      dinky proposition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forty-two vessels&mdash;windjammers, steam schooners and foreign-going
+      freighters&mdash;&rdquo; began Mr. Skinner; but Cappy cut him short:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Foreign-going grandmothers! We've got the <i>Narcissus</i> and the <i>Tillicum</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about my boat&mdash;the <i>John P. Skinner?</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes! That one we scraped up off the bottom of Papeete Harbor,&rdquo; Cappy
+      answered maliciously. &ldquo;Well, that makes three; and really the <i>Skinner</i>
+      and the <i>Narcissus</i> are the only vessels built to go foreign.
+      Remember, Skinner, we built the <i>Tillicum</i>, for the coast-wise lumber
+      trade, even though she's so big our competitors thought when we launched
+      her we were crazy to build such a whale for that trade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We ought to have more big bottoms, Skinner. We'll have hell-cracking
+      freight rates during the war and for a long time thereafter&mdash;and here
+      we sit round like a lot of dubs, too conservative to help ourselves to the
+      gravy. Why, you and Matt Peasley ought to be knitting socks in an old
+      ladies' home, for all the progressiveness you're displaying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not in charge of the shipping end, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but you've got a tongue in your head, haven't you? You were
+      practically in charge of the Blue Star for more than six months&mdash;during
+      the entire period Matt was at sea in the <i>Retriever</i> and we thought
+      he was a goner. Why, dog-gone you, Skinner, even when you thought Matt was
+      dead you didn't suggest increasing the fleet. I'm surprised, Skinner, my
+      boy, that in my old age, after gathering a lot of young fellows round me
+      to carry on the business, I've still got to be the bell mare!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner had nothing to say to this; if he had it is doubtful whether
+      he would have said it, for he had been too long with Cappy Ricks not to
+      know the signs when the old gentleman took the bit in his teeth and
+      declared for a new deal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm going into my office to do some tall thinking, Skinner,&rdquo; Cappy
+      continued. &ldquo;Remember! No visitors until I've threshed this whole business
+      out to my satisfaction. I'm not in to anybody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy retired to his office, sat down on his spine in his upholstered
+      swivel chair, swung his thin old shanks to the top of his desk, bowed his
+      head on his breast, and closed his eyes. Scarcely had he done so when the
+      door opened and Matt Peasley thrust his head in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Matt?&rdquo; Cappy queried without opening his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have an offer of forty thousand dollars for our old bark <i>Altair</i>,
+      Cappy. What do you think we ought to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take it!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled. &ldquo;You jibbering jackdaw! Grab it! She's been a
+      failure since the day I built her; never balanced, always burying her nose
+      in the seas, and drowning a sailor about once a year. If we keep that ship
+      much longer she'll sail herself under some day and we'll be out the forty
+      thousand. <i>Altair!</i> Fancy name! Skinner got it out of Ben Hur. He'd
+      been in the shipping game ten years then and hadn't learned that was the
+      name of a star! We should have called her the <i>Water Spaniel</i>. Sell
+      her, Matt, and we'll put the money into a steamer that can run foreign.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you can tell me where we can buy, even at three times her intrinsic
+      value, a steamer that will run foreign, I'm willing to consider selling
+      the <i>Altair</i>. Just at present she's earning big dividends; and until
+      we can find a place to invest her selling price, the money will earn six
+      per cent instead of sixty, as at present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Clear out and let me think!&rdquo; Cappy commanded, and Matt Peasley retired to
+      Mr. Skinner's office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you noticed the old gentleman lately?&rdquo; he inquired of Skinner. &ldquo;Ever
+      since his grandson arrived grandpa has been paying attention to business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's dissatisfied with his own and our efforts thus far. He thinks he's
+      been a piker and that you and I are his first-assistant pikers. He has
+      ships on the brain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's getting pretty cocky,&rdquo; Matt agreed; &ldquo;but, at that, I guess he has a
+      license to be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've been with him twenty-six&mdash;yes, twenty-seven&mdash;years; and I
+      know him, Matt. He's cooking up something prodigious&mdash;and it will
+      soon be done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door of Cappy's office opened and Cappy stood in the entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner,&rdquo; he ordered, &ldquo;get me a letter of credit for about twenty
+      thousand dollars. I'm going travelling.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo; Matt and Skinner queried in chorus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're not!&rdquo; Matt Peasley declared. &ldquo;You're liable to be torpedoed en
+      route.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, but then, too, I'm liable not to be; and if I am, why, I'm an old
+      man, and I'll only be cheating the devil by a few years or a few months.
+      Come in here, you two dead ones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They followed him into his office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We need some steamers,&rdquo; Cappy announced. &ldquo;Every shipyard in the United
+      States that could build the kind of steamer we want is full up with
+      contracts for the next three years; so I'm going to Norway or Sweden or
+      Denmark, or some non-belligerent European country, and see whether I can't
+      place some contracts there for a couple of real freighters. Then, too, I
+      may be able to pick up good vessels over there at a reasonable price.
+      Under the Emergency Shipping Act we can get them provisional American
+      registry&mdash;and that's all we need. Before a great while Uncle Sam is
+      going to turn his antiquated shipping laws inside out, and any
+      foreign-built boats we may acquire now will be given the right to run in
+      the coastwise trade also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, Cappy,&rdquo; Matt reminded the old man; &ldquo;you're retired and I'm in
+      charge of the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation Company. I don't want
+      you working yourself to death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean you don't want me butting in. Nonsense! What's the use of having
+      a grandson if a fellow doesn't hustle up something for the boy to sharpen
+      his teeth on when he grows up? Here I've been living from day to day, just
+      marking time on the road to eternity and figuring life wasn't worth while
+      because the stock was going to die out with me. Up until recently I was
+      content with a little old one-horse business; but now, by the Holy
+      Pink-Toed Prophet, boy, we've got to get out and shake a leg! Freighters!
+      That's what we want. Big, well-decked tramps, flying the Stars and Stripes
+      in every port on earth. Why, what kind of a nation are we getting to be,
+      anyway? We're a passel of mollycoddles, asleep on the job. We haven't half
+      enough ships to coal our navy. In the event of war it would take us a week
+      to dig up ships enough to transport the New York Police Department. I tell
+      you, Matt, when I'm gone you'll have to have something for that grandson
+      of mine to do or he'll grow up into one of these idle-rich, ne'er-do-well,
+      two-for-a-quarter dudes. You bet I've been doing a deal of thinking
+      lately. We can't send that boy to college, and spoil him before he's
+      twenty-five. We'll run that young man through high school; just about that
+      time he'll begin to get snobbish and we'll take that out of him by sending
+      him to sea as a cadet on one of our own ships. We'll teach him democracy&mdash;that's
+      what we'll teach him. When he's twenty-one he'll be a skipper like his
+      forebears and you'll be only about forty-six. Good Lord! To think of you
+      two young fellows running my Blue Star ships&mdash;and not enough ships to
+      keep you busy! Preposterous! I can't consider&mdash;Well, Hankins, my dear
+      boy, what's troubling you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hankins, the secretary, had entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wanted to see Mr. Skinner a moment. I'll wait. Didn't know you were
+      busy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he started to retire. Cappy checked him: &ldquo;Finish with Skinner,
+      Hankins. He'll be in consultation here with Matt and me for an hour yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just wanted to know, Mr. Skinner, whether all those cablegrams to
+      Captain Landry, of the <i>Altair</i>, are to be charged to general
+      expense, Captain Landry's personal account, or to the <i>Altair</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems to me you should charge them to Captain Landry, Hankins,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Skinner spoke up. &ldquo;It isn't ship's business and it isn't Blue Star
+      business. If he wants this office to cable him every day about his family&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here! What's this you're talking about, Skinner?&rdquo; Cappy interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When Captain Landry sailed for Callao his wife didn't accompany him&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucky rascal! He told me he was expecting an heir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he's still expecting that heir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naturally,&rdquo; Mr. Hankins explained, &ldquo;he's been anxious for news; and ever
+      since his arrival in Callao he's cabled us every other day&mdash;latterly
+      every day&mdash;asking whether the baby has been born, and whether it's a
+      boy or a girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A very pardonable human curiosity, my boy. Proceed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unfortunately the baby appears to be held up on demurrage and I think
+      we've spent at least fifty dollars cabling to Landry that the youngster
+      has failed to report. I imagine the skipper has spent twice that sum
+      inquiring for news&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course! It's his first baby, isn't it? You must allow for human
+      nature.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought we would&mdash;for the first half dozen cablegrams; but after
+      it became a habit it appeared that Landry ought to pay for his fancies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He should,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner declared firmly. &ldquo;Charge the cablegrams to
+      Landry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing doing!&rdquo; piped Cappy. &ldquo;Charge 'em to general expense. Dang you,
+      Skinner, I despair of ever breaking you of that habit of operating on the
+      cheap!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, very well, sir&mdash;only the expense is getting to be quite an
+      item.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm just about to send him another cablegram,&rdquo; Mr. Hankins declared
+      fretfully. &ldquo;The <i>Altair</i> is due to sail from Callao and the baby is
+      still unborn; it will be two months old, at least, before the skipper gets
+      any further news.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's see your cablegram,&rdquo; Cappy ordered, and Mr. Hankins passed it over.
+      Cappy read it. &ldquo;Holy suffering sailor!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Why this concern isn't
+      in the hands of a receiver is a mystery to me.&rdquo; He looked up at Mr.
+      Hankins with blood in his eye. &ldquo;Here you are, Hankins, trying to saddle a
+      bill of expense on a poor, heartbroken, anxious, embryo parent-to-be.
+      Knowing full well that he only makes a hundred and fifty dollars a month,
+      you admit to an endeavor to stick him for fifty dollars' worth of
+      cablegrams from this end, not to mention those from his end. If you had
+      spent your time, sir, figuring out a way to cut down that cable expense,
+      instead of discovering a rotten way to get rid of it&mdash;Why, look here!
+      You can use your code book and save a couple of dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Code book!&rdquo; Mr. Hankins protested indignantly. &ldquo;Why, who ever heard of a
+      code book for cabling on baby business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Use your shipping code. Here; hand me that code book. There's bound to be
+      something to fit the occasion&mdash;there always is. Hum-m-m! Ahem!
+      Harumph-h-h! Let us see what we shall see under the head of cargoes;
+      Loading! Discharging! Demurrage! Ahem! That won't do. He'd be liable to
+      confuse it with the ship's business. Harumph-h-h! Arrivals. Now we have
+      it. Landry has been asking of an expected arrival, hasn't he?&rdquo; Cappy ran
+      his index finger down the page. &ldquo;Here you are, Hankins. Hum-m-m! Afilamos&mdash;meaning
+      no new arrivals. Naturally Landry will say to himself: 'Well, for heaven's
+      sake, when will that child arrive?' We should enlighten him on that
+      point.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We cannot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, then. Say so. Here you are. Affumicata&mdash;meaning: We
+      cannot guarantee time of arrival. Hankins, have you talked with Mrs.
+      Landry's physician in order to get the latest ringside reports?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he says he thinks it will be twins, in a couple of days at the
+      most.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good news! Here you are. Afilaba&mdash;meaning: Heavy arrivals expected
+      shortly. Now then, Hankins, he'll want some news of his wife, won't he?
+      How about her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She went to the hospital this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy closed his eyes and pondered; then once more took up the code book.
+      Followed a silence. Then:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bully! He'll understand perfectly, being a sailor. Desdoble&mdash;meaning:
+      Is now in dry dock. And, of course, Landry will want to know whether his
+      wife is in any danger. Danger! Danger! Ships are sometimes in danger.
+      When? When they're wrecked, of course. Let us look under the head of
+      wrecks... No; nothing seems to fill the bill. Wreck, wrecked, worse, writ,
+      write, wrong&mdash;ah, I have it! Wohlgemuth&mdash;meaning: There is
+      nothing wrong.&rdquo; He looked up at Mr. Hankins. &ldquo;Now there's the kind of
+      cablegram to send&mdash;even on baby business. Those four code words
+      translated mean: No new arrivals; heavy arrivals expected shortly; is now
+      in dry dock; there is nothing wrong. Literally translated it means: Baby
+      not born yet; twins expected shortly; your wife now in hospital;
+      everything lovely! I suppose, Hankins, you have carbon copies of all these
+      cablegrams you've been sending?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Code them all, so far as possible, and ascertain how much money you might
+      have saved the Blue Star by the exercise of a little common sense; then
+      charge the cablegrams, on the coded basis, to our general expense, and
+      charge to your personal account the sum you might have saved by the
+      exercise of the ingenuity and efficiency I have a right to expect of a man
+      who draws down as fat a salary as you do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0050" id="link2HCH0050"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER L
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hankins withdrew, greatly crestfallen, and the despot of the Blue Star
+      office turned to his trusted lieutenants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;one after the other you have to come to the old man
+      to be shown. I guess I've proved to you two boys this morning that I'm to
+      be trusted with buying a few ships and letting contracts for a few more,
+      haven't I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't like the idea of Cappy Ricks on a steamer that's likely to be
+      torpedoed. I don't want you to go to Europe alone&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not going alone. Captain Mike Murphy, our new port captain, is going
+      with me. I wouldn't think of buying a steamer unless that splendid fellow
+      O.K.'d the hull. And Terry Reardon, our new port engineer, will accompany
+      me also. Terry has to O.K. the engines. Between the three of us, it's
+      going to take a smart trader to sell us any junk, I'm telling you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ought to go with you,&rdquo; Matt suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have your work at home, attending to the fleet. It isn't much of a
+      fleet, I'll admit; but such as it is it requires some attention. I'll be
+      the chief scout of this organization and see whether I can't rustle up
+      some major-league vessels from some of those bush-league European owners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had a fine time getting good men to take their places in the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      since you promoted Mike and Terry in my absence!&rdquo; Matt complained. &ldquo;Mike
+      and Terry know her well&mdash;and she's such a big brute to handle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is the <i>Narcissus</i>, by the way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Loading nitrate at Tocopilla and Antofagasta, Chile. This is her last
+      voyage under the old charter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got any new business in sight for her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't have the slightest difficulty getting another nitrate charter and
+      at a rate double what she's been getting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every vessel taken off the nitrate run stiffens the freight rate in these
+      days, when they have to have so much nitrate in the manufacture of war
+      munitions,&rdquo; the astute Cappy declared. &ldquo;If I were you, Matt, I'd find her
+      a good outside cargo or two, and then slip her back in the nitrate
+      business again. Freights may have advanced in the interim.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a mighty profitable cargo offered me this morning, Cappy. An agent
+      of the British Government called on me and offered a whopping price for
+      carrying a cargo of mules and horses from Galveston to Havre. I think I
+      shall turn the proposition down. It's too dangerous, Cappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean we might have our ship blown up by a German submarine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we'd collect our freight in advance, wouldn't we? And the British
+      Government will guarantee to reimburse us if the ship is lost, will it
+      not? Well, then, where's the risk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's the danger to the crew.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any man that goes to sea knows he has to take a chance. Bet you Mike
+      Murphy could take that cargo of livestock across and bring another cargo
+      back. He's luckier than a cross-eyed coon. And another thing, Matt: If you
+      accept that business we can kill two birds with one stone&mdash;yes, three&mdash;because
+      Mike and Terry and I will cross over on the <i>Narcissus</i> and save the
+      price of transportation from here to New York, and from New York to
+      Liverpool. Then, while the <i>Narcissus</i> is discharging and taking on
+      another cargo, we'll go scouting for available steamers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It might be done, though I hate to think of it Cappy. If we lose the
+      vessel they'll pay us a million and a half for her, of course&mdash;and
+      she cost us less than three hundred thousand a year ago. And, as you say,
+      we'll collect the freight in advance. They're very anxious to get the <i>Narcissus</i>.
+      She's a whopping big boat, and that's the kind of a vessel they need for a
+      horse transport.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it will be a bully vacation, and
+      a bully vacation is something I haven't had since the night of the big
+      wind in Ireland. Moreover, I combine business with pleasure, which is
+      always desirable; and, if that isn't excuse enough, I want to tell you
+      it's cheaper to travel dead-head on our own boats than to pay for three
+      round-trip tickets to Europe on a Cunard liner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But suppose a German submarine&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matt, all my life I've played a quiet, safe, sane, conservative game.
+      I've always longed for adventure and never had it. Why, just consider a
+      moment what a tiresome thing life would be were it not for the prospect of
+      death at any moment! That's all that keeps us hustling, my boy&mdash;trying
+      to put over a winning run before the game is called on account of
+      darkness. Hell's bells! Don't try to scare me with a sheet and the rattle
+      of old bones. Suppose they do blow us up? We don't lose a dollar; in fact,
+      we make money&mdash;and we can take to the boats, can't we?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They only give you fifteen minutes&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll have the boats swung overside, provisioned and ready, two days
+      ahead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they don't care how far out to sea they leave you. I spent two weeks
+      in an open boat once and I know you can't stand two days. The exposure&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When we get down to Galveston,&rdquo; Cappy interrupted triumphantly, &ldquo;I'll
+      have Mike Murphy buy a nice, staunch little secondhand motor cruiser,
+      thirty-eight or forty feet long, with plenty of power and comfortable
+      living accommodations for half a dozen people. Mike will arrange for extra
+      oil and gasoline tankage, and we'll swing this cruiser in on the main deck
+      and let it rest there in a cradle, with the slings round it, ready to lift
+      overside with the cargo derricks at a minute's notice. I'll be as snug in
+      that little cruiser as a bug under a chip&mdash;and we'll tow the
+      lifeboats. So that settles it&mdash;and if it doesn't I'd like to know
+      who's the boss of this shebang, anyhow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner glanced covertly at Captain Matt Peasley and shook his head
+      almost imperceptibly, as who should say: &ldquo;Better give in to him, Matt. I
+      know him longer than you do; he'll have his way if it kills him.&rdquo; And Matt
+      took the hint, with the result that some six weeks later Cappy Ricks,
+      accompanied by his faithful port captain and his equally faithful port
+      engineer, cleared for Galveston aboard the Sunset Limited. And at
+      Galveston began the only real vacation Cappy Ricks had ever had.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0051" id="link2HCH0051"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      To begin, there was the task of superintending the installation of the
+      accommodations for the cargo of mules and horses. Cappy was particularly
+      interested in the ventilating system below decks, for he was fond of
+      horses and had resolved to deliver the cargo without the loss of a single
+      animal. Of no mediocre turn of mind mechanically, he, assisted by Terry
+      Reardon, made a few suggestions that the British veterinaries in charge
+      were very glad to accept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The real enjoyment of the trip, however, Cappy found down at the breaking
+      corrals where the horses were detraining. They were all young and full of
+      life, and fully ninety per cent of them had only been halter-broken. In
+      the lot was many an outlaw whose ancestors had run wild for generations in
+      Nevada; and as the delivery contract specified that a horse to be accepted
+      must be broken&mdash;God save the mark!&mdash;as Terence Reardon remarked
+      after seeing one passed as broken, following five minutes of furious
+      pitching and squealing&mdash;Cappy Ricks was one of the first at the
+      corral and the last to leave. Perched on the topmost, rail, he piped
+      encouragement to the lank, flat-bellied border busters who, a dozen times
+      a day, risked life and limb at five dollars a bust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon, who had ridden more than one China Sea
+      typhoon and West India hurricane, marvelled that men should take such
+      risks for any amount of money. Privately they considered Cappy Ricks an
+      accessory before the fact, inasmuch as Cappy hung up at least five hundred
+      dollars in small prizes for the vaqueros. Whenever they had a &ldquo;bad one&rdquo;
+       they could always induce Cappy to offer ten dollars for staying two
+      minutes and five dollars a minute for each minute over the limit&mdash;which
+      seldom reached two minutes. Also, Cappy was willing to furnish two silver
+      dollars whenever some adventurer thought he could put a dollar between
+      each leg and the saddle and have the dollars there when the horse
+      surrendered. They ran in a couple of trained buckers on Cappy and depleted
+      his bank roll considerably before he began to smell a rat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To these plainsmen, charged with the destinies of the mounts for the young
+      British soldier, Cappy Ricks was known familiarly as Cap. Before the last
+      of the horses had been passed as broken and hustled aboard the big <i>Narcissus</i>,
+      Cappy knew each horse wrangler by his first name or nickname, and had
+      learned the intricacies of many hitherto unheard-of games of chance that
+      flourish along the Rio Grande. He was an expert at cooncan, and Pangingi
+      fascinated him; then they taught him Mexican monte, and one worthless
+      individual stole an ace out of the deck, whereupon all hands had a joyous
+      hack at Cappy, who, when informed privately by his friend, Sam Daniels,
+      foreman of the outfit, that he was in bad company and being skinned alive,
+      went uptown and bought some specially constructed dice, which he
+      introduced brazenly into a crap game, thereby more than catching even. He
+      was the last man in the world a gang of wicked cowboys would suspect of
+      guile; all of them, quite foolishly, thought he had more money than
+      brains.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eventually, however, the <i>Narcissus</i> was loaded, Cappy moved into the
+      owner's suite, and his new-found friends bunked in a temporary deck house
+      forward when they weren't busy below decks playing chambermaid to the
+      cargo. And with Cappy's motor cruiser swung in the cradle, ready for
+      launching from the main deck aft, the <i>Narcissus</i> slipped out of
+      Galveston and went snoring across the Gulf of Mexico, bound for Le Havre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy was not happy, however. He resented Cappy Ricks, who would
+      persist in going below to inspect the cargo and in consequence smelled
+      like a hostler. Moreover, Michael was the port captain of the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company now and not the master of the ship; and the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      wasn't out of sight of land before Mike made the discovery that the
+      boatswain of the ship was absolutely inefficient, that the cook was
+      wasteful, that the first officer was too talkative, and the skipper too
+      easy-going.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And these conditions, on a ship he had once commanded, irked Murphy
+      exceedingly. Terence Reardon was in much the same state of mind. Being
+      port engineer, he investigated the engine room and found that his favorite
+      monkey wrench had been lost; there were two leaky tubes in the main
+      boiler; the ash hoist was out of kilter; his successor in the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      was carrying ten pounds of steam less than Terence used to carry; and
+      there was something not quite right with the condenser. The engine room
+      crew Terence characterized to Mike Murphy as a gang of &ldquo;vagabones,&rdquo; and
+      hinted darkly at sweeping changes when the ship should get back to the
+      United States. Once he went so far as to state that he might have expected
+      as much when, upon leaving the <i>Narcissus</i> to become port engineer,
+      he had given her to his old first assistant; since he had never known a
+      first assistant, barring himself, to make a good chief!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0052" id="link2HCH0052"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the very day the <i>Narcissus</i> left Galveston the German submersible
+      V-l4 left her base at Zeebrugge, with oil and torpedoes sufficient to last
+      her on an ordinary three weeks' cruise, and promptly headed for that
+      section of the Atlantic where information and belief told her commander
+      the hunting would be good. And it was&mdash;so good, in fact, that to the
+      very great disgust of her crew she had just two torpedoes in stock when
+      the man on watch at her periscope reported a large freight steamer to the
+      west. Promptly the V-l4 submerged and proceeded on a course calculated to
+      intercept the freighter, which presently was discovered to be the U.S.S.
+      <i>Narcissus</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain of the V-l4 almost licked his chops. He had heard of the <i>Narcissus</i>.
+      The neutrality laws of the United States had prevented him from hearing of
+      her by wireless when she cleared from Galveston, but he had been on the
+      lookout for her, just the same, ever since a Dutch steamer from New York,
+      with an alert German chief mate, had touched at Copenhagen, from which
+      point the dispatches that mate carried had gone underground straight to
+      the office of the German Admiralty. The information anent the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      had been brief but illuminating: She had been chartered to carry horses
+      for the British Government from Galveston to Le Havre, and the word to get
+      her at all hazards had been passed to the submarine flotilla.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Emil Bechtel, of the V-l4, did not possess an Iron Cross of any
+      nature whatsoever, and as he studied the oncoming <i>Narcissus</i> through
+      the periscope he reflected that this big brute of a boat would bring him
+      one, provided he was lucky. He remembered he had but two torpedoes left,
+      and under the circumstances he paused to consider.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Clearly&mdash;since the <i>Narcissus</i> was laden with horses and mules
+      for the enemy she was carrying contraband&mdash;she must not escape. On
+      the other hand, there had been a deal of unpleasantness of late because
+      President Wilson had been protesting the sinking of vessels without
+      warning&mdash;and the <i>Narcissus</i> was a United States steamer.
+      Consequently if he torpedoed her without warning the temperamental Kaiser
+      might make of Captain Emil Bechtel what is colloquially known as the goat;
+      whereas, on the other hand, should he conform to international law and
+      place her crew in safety before sinking her, there was a chance that her
+      wireless might summon a patrol boat to the vicinity&mdash;Bechtel had
+      sighted one less than an hour before&mdash;and patrol boats had a
+      miserable habit, when they sighted a periscope, of shooting it to pieces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, too, it was just possible that the perfidious English had mounted a
+      couple of six-inch guns on her after getting to sea&mdash;and the German
+      knew a six-inch shell, well-placed, would send his vessel to the bottom.
+      Moreover, it was sunset; in half an hour it would be twilight; he had no
+      knowledge of the speed of the <i>Narcissus</i> and she might try to make a
+      run for it, thus forcing him to come to the surface and shell her should
+      he miss with his torpedoes. Further, if he attacked her and she escaped,
+      there was an elderly gentleman with whiskers back in Berlin who would do
+      things to him if the Kaiser didn't.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was, however, one course open to the German. To his way of thinking,
+      during the exciting diplomatic tangle with the United States, he would be
+      damned if he did and damned if he didn't; but if he did, and nobody could
+      prove it, old Von Tirpitz would ask no questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll let her have it,&rdquo; Captain Emil Bechtel concluded; and he passed the
+      word to get ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A minute later Cappy Ricks, smoking his after-dinner cigar on the bridge
+      of the Narcissus with her skipper and Mike Murphy, pointed far off the
+      port bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's a shark or a swordfish, or something, breaching,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can
+      see his wake.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy took a casual glance in the direction Cappy was pointing,
+      while the master of the <i>Narcissus</i> reached for his marine glasses
+      and lazily put them to his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shark be damned!&rdquo; yelled Murphy. &ldquo;It's a torpedo or I'm a Chinaman!
+      Hard-a-starboard!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He leaped for the engine-room telegraph and jammed it over to Full Speed
+      Astern; then dashed into the pilot house and commenced a furious ringing
+      of the ship's bell, summoning the crew to boat drill, the while his
+      anxious eye marked the swift progress of the white streak coming toward
+      them. What wind there was happened fortunately to be on the vessel's port
+      counter, and as the helmsman spun the wheel the big vessel fell off
+      quickly and easily, while the rumble of her shaft, suddenly reversed,
+      fairly shook the ship. To Cappy Ricks it seemed that the vessel must be
+      brought up standing, like one of the broncos he had seen ridden with a
+      Spanish bit; but a big ship under full headway is not stopped very
+      abruptly, and the <i>Narcissus</i> swept on, turning as she went in order
+      to offer as little target as possible to the torpedo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will we make it, Mike?&rdquo; Cappy Ricks queried in a very small, awed voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy turned and found his owner at his elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope it hits her forward,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;That motor cruiser is cradled
+      aft and we might save it. They never hailed us&mdash;ah-h-h, missed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The torpedo flew by, missing the big blunt bow by less than three feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess they'll get us just the same,&rdquo; Mike Murphy murmured quietly; &ldquo;but
+      we're going down fighting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, disregarding the master of the <i>Narcissus</i>, who was staring
+      vacantly after the flying torpedo, he rang for Full Speed Ahead, and
+      called down the speaking tube to the chief to hook her on for all he had;
+      then, with his helm still hard-a-starboard, he swung the ship in as small
+      a circle as possible and headed her at full speed back over the course so
+      recently traveled by the torpedo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was a beautifully timed shot&mdash;that last one,&rdquo; he informed Cappy
+      Ricks admiringly. &ldquo;If we'd sighted it thirty seconds later&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where the devil are you going, man?&rdquo; Cappy yelled frantically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm going to give that fellow a surprise,&rdquo; Murphy growled. &ldquo;He expected
+      us to run for it after that first one missed&mdash;and I'm running for
+      him! He may not get me with the next one if I come bows on&mdash;and I
+      might ram him! I'll take a chance. Keep your eyes open for his periscope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aboard the V-l4 Captain Emil Bechtel said nothing, but thought a great
+      deal&mdash;when he saw that his first torpedo had missed its prey. He was
+      in for it now; he had started something and he had to go through. And,
+      anticipating that the <i>Narcissus</i> would show him her heels and steer
+      a zigzag course, he immediately launched his last torpedo as the horse
+      transport lay quartering to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To his disgust, however, the steamer, having avoided the first torpedo,
+      did not run as he had anticipated. Instead, she continued to turn round on
+      her heels, each revolution of her wheel lifting her out of the course of
+      the second torpedo, since the submarine had fired slightly ahead of the
+      vessel, knowing that if she continued for two minutes on the course he
+      expected her to take she would steam fairly across the path of the huge
+      missile. So he missed again&mdash;the torpedo slid under her stern&mdash;and
+      here was that demon horse transport bearing down on him at full speed and
+      with a bone in her teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The jig is up,&rdquo; murmured Bechtel, and gave the order to submerge deeper,
+      for he would not risk showing his periscope to the keen eyes on that
+      bridge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For ten minutes he waited, while the submarine scuttled blindly out of the
+      path of the onrushing transport; then, concluding that the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      had passed him, he came up and took a look round. He was right. A cable
+      length astern and another off his port quarter the steamer was plunging
+      over the darkening sea, and Captain Emil Bechtel knew he had her now; so
+      promptly he came to the surface.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy, glancing off his starboard quarter, saw her periscope come
+      swiftly up; then her turret showed; then her turtle deck flashed for a
+      moment on the surface, like a giant fish, before she rose higher and the
+      water cascaded down her sides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks' anxious face turned a delicate green; he glanced up at his
+      bully port captain as if in that rugged personality alone could he hope
+      for salvation. Murphy caught the glance, shook his head, walked over to
+      the engine-room telegraph and set the handle over to stop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No use, sir,&rdquo; he informed Cappy. &ldquo;That Dutchman is out of torpedoes, so
+      he's coming up to shell us. We'll heave to and save funeral expenses.&rdquo; He
+      turned to the master of the <i>Narcissus</i>. &ldquo;Captain, I'll stay on the
+      bridge and conduct all negotiations with that fellow; get your mates,
+      round up everybody and prepare to abandon the ship in a hurry. Get the
+      motor cruiser overside first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the captain hurried away, Terence Reardon came up on the bridge. The
+      port engineer's gloomy visage portended tears, but through his narrowed
+      lids Cappy Ricks saw not tears, but the light of murder. Terence did not
+      speak, but thoughtfully puffed his pipe, and, with Murphy and Cappy Ricks,
+      watched the booby hatch on the submarine's deck slide back and her long,
+      slim, three-inch gun appear, like the tongue of a huge viper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Heads appeared round the breech of the gun; so Michael J. Murphy seized a
+      megaphone and shouted:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Nein! Nix!</i>&rdquo; accompanying his words with wild pantomime that meant
+      &ldquo;Don't shoot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Emil Bechtel was vastly relieved. He was not an inhuman man, even
+      if, on occasion, as has already been demonstrated, he could, for the sake
+      of national expediency, sink a ship without warning. Having missed with
+      both torpedoes, he could now, in the event of national complications,
+      enter a vigorous denial of any affidavits alleging an attempted breach of
+      international law, and his government would uphold him. This knowledge
+      rendered him both cheerful and polite, as he hove to some hundred yards to
+      starboard of the <i>Narcissus</i> and informed Captain Michael J. Murphy
+      that the latter had just fifteen minutes in which to save the ship's
+      company; whereat Michael J. proved himself every inch a sailor, while
+      Terence P. proved himself a marine engineer. If there was a word of
+      opprobrium, mundane or nautical, which the port skipper didn't shout at
+      that submarine commander, the port engineer supplied it. In all his life
+      Cappy Ricks had never listened to such rich, racy, unctuous abuse; it
+      lifted itself about the level of the commonplace and became a work of art.
+      Cappy was horrified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boys! Boys!&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;This is frightful!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you expect from a German, sir?&rdquo; Murphy demanded. &ldquo;Frightfulness
+      is his middle name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean you two&mdash;and your language. Stop it! You'll contaminate me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sor,&rdquo; Terence Reardon replied philosophically, &ldquo;I suppose there's
+      small use cryin' over spilt milk&mdash;musha, what are they up to now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're dragging a collapsible boat up from below,&rdquo; Mike Murphy declared.
+      &ldquo;That means they're going to board us, place bombs in the bilges, and sink
+      us that way. They know blamed well we've wirelessed for help and a patrol
+      has answered; so that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No profanity!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So he has decided he won't try to sink us by shell fire with such a small
+      gun. It'll be dark in five minutes and he's afraid the flame of the
+      discharge or the reports of the gun may guide the patrol boat here before
+      he's finished his job. Oh, wirra, wirra!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murphy's surmise proved to be correct, for he had scarcely finished
+      speaking before the submarine commander hailed him and ordered him to let
+      down his gangway. Terence P. Reardon's eyes flamed with the lust for
+      battle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be the great gun av Athlone,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;if they're comin' aboard sure we
+      can get at them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murphy's rage vanished as suddenly as it had gripped him; he smiled at
+      Terence affectionately, approvingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You with your monkey wrench, eh, Terry, my lad? And they with automatic
+      pistols and wishful of an excuse to use them, not to mention the
+      nitroglycerin and guncotton bombs they'll be carrying&mdash;a divilish bad
+      thing to have kicking round in a free-for-all fight?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Terry's face showed his deep disappointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They'll see us all in the boats,&rdquo; Murphy continued; &ldquo;then they'll go
+      below, set the bombs, light a slow fuse to give them time to get back to
+      the submarine&mdash;and then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With all these poor dumb beasts aboard?&rdquo; Cappy Ricks quavered. &ldquo;Horrible!
+      Horrible! I could kill them for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could kill them for a greater crime than that,&rdquo; his port captain
+      reminded him. &ldquo;Didn't they try twice to sink us without warning? Damn
+      them! They're forty fathoms outside the law this minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0053" id="link2HCH0053"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      For the first time in his life Cappy Ricks was in financial and physical
+      danger coincidently. Old he was, and a landlubber, for all his courtesy
+      title; but in his veins there coursed the blood of a long line of fighting
+      ancestors. It occurred to him now that in all his life he had never cried
+      &ldquo;Enough;&rdquo; that always, when cornered and presumably beaten, he had gone
+      into executive session with himself and, fox that he was, schemed a way
+      out. In this supreme moment there came to him now the words of the gallant
+      Lawrence: &ldquo;Don't give up the ship!&rdquo; They inspired him; his agile old
+      brain, benumbed by the shock of the exciting events of the last quarter of
+      an hour, threw off its paralysis; his little five-feet-four body thrilled
+      with the impact of a sudden brilliant idea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have it!&rdquo; he piped. &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it might be done!
+      Mike, the submarine lies to starboard. Tell the mate to lower the port
+      gangway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murphy ran out on the end of the bridge and bawled the order. Then he came
+      back, and he and Terence and Cappy Ricks put their heads together while in
+      brief, illuminating sentences Cappy Ricks unfolded the fruit of his
+      genius.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; he pleaded when he had finished, &ldquo;is that scheme practicable?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It might be done, sir,&rdquo; Mike Murphy assented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll thry anything the wanst,&rdquo; Terry Reardon almost barked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means some fighting&mdash;probably some killing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorra wan av me'll feel broken-hearted at killin' the likes av that
+      Dutchman,&rdquo; Terry answered. &ldquo;Shtill, we'll be needin' some help, I'm
+      thinkin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll get it, or I'm no judge of human nature. Mike, pass the word for
+      Sam Daniels, the boss of muleteers and broncho busters. Sam used to be a
+      Texas Ranger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Accordingly Sam Daniels was sent for and arrived on the jump.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sam, my dear boy,&rdquo; said Cappy calmly, &ldquo;I'm enlisting volunteers to raise
+      hell with that submarine. They're going to put bombs in the bilges and
+      blow up the ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count me in, Cap,&rdquo; Sam Daniels replied laconically. &ldquo;Want me to rustle up
+      a couple of the boys?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, about three real ones&mdash;boys that are handy with a six-shooter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess most of the boys from the border have their guns in their war
+      bags. I'll go get them together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did&mdash;in about three minutes; by which time the collapsible boat
+      from the submarine had been launched and was pulling toward the <i>Narcissus</i>.
+      While her master directed them to pull round to the port gangway, Sam
+      Daniels slipped down unobserved into Number Three hatch, two of his horse
+      wranglers disappeared with an equal lack of ostentation down the gangway
+      into Number Two hatch, and a third man went forward and down Number One.
+      The trap was set.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A stout young lieutenant clad in soiled dungarees, his uniform cap alone
+      denoting his rank, came briskly up the companion, followed by four jackies
+      carrying the bombs. A fifth man remained in the boat, fending it away with
+      a boat hook from the tall black side of the <i>Narcissus</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who commands here?&rdquo; the German demanded in most excellent English.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; the master of the <i>Narcissus</i> replied, and stepped a pace
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then hurry and get your boats overside. We're going to bomb the ship, and
+      if anybody remains aboard when those bombs explode it will be his fault,
+      not ours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The motor cruiser had already been dropped overboard, and the life-boats,
+      having been for two days swung out in the davits, were quickly filled and
+      lowered away. As each boat pulled clear of the ship the man in charge of
+      it was ordered by the submarine lieutenant to stay to port of the <i>Narcissus</i>,
+      and to pull well clear of the ship before proceeding to pass the towing
+      painters to the cruiser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are all your men off the ship?&rdquo; the officer queried of the skipper as the
+      latter entered the last boat and gave the order to lower away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All off; I've accounted for all of them,&rdquo; was the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The German waited until the boat had slipped away in the gloom before
+      turning to his command.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Proceed!&rdquo; he said briefly; and, followed by his four men, he led the way
+      down the cleated temporary gangway built diagonally down Number Three
+      hatch to accommodate the horses when they had been led aboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The better to facilitate their progress, Terence Reardon had turned on all
+      the electric lights in the ship, and the detail proceeded quickly to the
+      lower hold, where they set two bombs and piled double-compressed baled hay
+      round them, with the fuse leading out from under the bales. In addition to
+      blowing a hole in the ship they were taking the added precaution of
+      setting her afire after the explosion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the spot where the bombs were set a long alleyway, lined on each side
+      with the rumps of horses, each neatly boxed in a stall just wide enough
+      and long enough to inclose him firmly and hold him on his feet in the
+      event of rough weather, led forward and aft to the bulkheads. And in one
+      of these stalls, close up against the rump of a horse he could trust, Sam
+      Daniels, the ex-Texas Ranger, crouched, with one eye round the corner of
+      the stall, calmly watching the grim proceedings. Something told him that,
+      having arranged the bombs in that hold, the enemy would not light the
+      fuses until he had set similar bombs at the bottom of the other hatches;
+      then, all being in readiness, a man would be sent into each hold to light
+      the fuse, scurry on deck, descend to the waiting boat, and be pulled clear
+      of danger before the fuses should burn down to the fulminating caps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Daniels waited until the men were about to pick up the remaining bombs
+      and ascend to the deck; whereupon he stepped quietly out into the
+      alleyway, a long-barreled forty-five in his hand, and pussyfooted swiftly
+      toward the Germans, whose backs were now turned toward him. Halfway down
+      the alleyway, on one of the heavy six-by-six-inch uprights temporarily set
+      in to support the weight of the hundred mules on the deck above, was the
+      electric switch controlling the circuit in that hold&mdash;and Sam Daniels
+      reached up and turned it down. Instantly the hold was in darkness; and
+      then the horseman spoke:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey, you Dutchies! Stay right where you are! I want to have a little
+      powwow with you before you go any farther.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having said this, the astute Mr. Daniels, out of a vast experience gained
+      while fighting Mexicans and outlaws in the dark, promptly lay down. In
+      case the enemy should become rattled and fire at the sound of his voice he
+      preferred to have plenty of room for the bullets to pass over him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's there?&rdquo; the lieutenant demanded in English; and by the firm,
+      resolute voice the Texan knew that the German was not rattled and that his
+      men would not fire unless he gave the word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great thing, this naval discipline!&rdquo; Mr. Daniels soliloquized. Aloud he
+      replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fastest, straightest little wing shot with a six shooter that ever
+      was, old-timer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you purpose doing, my friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I purpose giving you some good advice; though whether you accept it or
+      not is a matter of indifference to me. You will observe that this hold is
+      in comparative darkness. I say comparative, because through the hatch
+      space a certain amount of light is projected from the deck above, and you
+      and your men are standing in that light, whereas I am in the dark. I can
+      see you and you cannot see me. I have a forty-five caliber revolver in my
+      hand and another in reserve. There are five of you fellows, constituting a
+      fair target&mdash;and I seldom miss a fair target. I can kill all five of
+      you in five seconds. Of course some of you may manage to fire at the flash
+      of my gun and accidentally kill me; but&mdash;make no mistake about it,
+      son&mdash;I'll get you and your gang before I kick the bucket. Now, then,
+      which do you want to do&mdash;live or die? I'm going to be fair to you
+      fellows and give you some choice in the matter&mdash;which is more than
+      you did when you launched those two torpedoes at us. Speak up, brother!
+      I'm a nervous man and dislike suspense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The German lieutenant glanced at his men, who had not yet touched the
+      other bombs and were looking stolidly at him for orders. He licked his
+      lower lip and scowled, sighed gustily&mdash;and made a swift grab for his
+      automatic. A streak of flame came out of the dark alleyway and the
+      German's arm hung limp at his side. He had a bullet in his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Told you I was a wing shot!&rdquo; the plainsman cautioned him pleasantly. &ldquo;I
+      would have put that one through your heart if I didn't need an
+      interpreter. I imagine these roustabouts with you only speak their mother
+      tongue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want me to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, first, I want you to leave that high explosive right where it is.
+      Then I want you to deposit all your sidearms on the floor, and have your
+      men do likewise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The German had had his lesson and arrived at the conclusion that valor
+      without discretion is not good business. He slipped his belt off and let
+      it drop to the floor; at a word from him his men did likewise, whereupon
+      Daniels stood up, threw on the electric switch, and revealed himself and
+      his artillery to the gaze of the invaders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forward; in a bunch, up the gangway!&rdquo; he ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They obeyed. As the Texan passed the little heap of belts, with the
+      automatics in the holsters attached, he gathered them up and followed.
+      Just before the procession reached the main deck he halted them and
+      whistled&mdash;whereupon Michael J. Murphy, Terence P. Reardon and Cappy
+      Ricks came to the edge of the hatch and peered over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, look who's here!&rdquo; Cappy exclaimed maliciously. &ldquo;Five nice little
+      pirates, who would sink my <i>Narcissus</i> without so much as a be-damned
+      to you! Mike, bring the irons. Terence, my boy, restrain yourself. If you
+      use that monkey wrench until I give the word the Blue Star Navigation
+      Company will have a new port engineer. Undress these fellows. Just remove
+      their caps and outer garments&mdash;and be quick about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell them to molt&mdash;<i>muy pronto!</i>&rdquo; Sam Daniels ordered the
+      lieutenant, who relayed the order in a voice that had in it a suspicion of
+      tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In three minutes they were undressed and handcuffed together; leg irons
+      were put on them, and they were expeditiously gagged and chained to a
+      stanchion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now then, Terence, I have work for you and your monkey wrench,&rdquo; Cappy
+      continued. &ldquo;You're about the same size as this officer. Into his dungarees
+      and uniform cap; and don't forget to slip on his belt, with the
+      automatic.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In two shakes av a lamb's tail, sor. What next?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you run down the gangway to the waiting boat, hold your handkerchief
+      over that Irish mug of yours. Pretend you're blowing your nose. The man in
+      the boat won't recognize you until you're on top of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wan little love tap&mdash;no more!&rdquo; Terence breathed lovingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When Terence has tapped him, Sam,&rdquo; Cappy continued, &ldquo;you go down and help
+      to get him out on the landing stage. He'll be off our hands there and the
+      submarine people cannot see what's happened to him. They're still lying on
+      our starboard beam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Terence and the deadly Samuel disappeared, to return presently and report
+      all well. Thereupon Michael J. Murphy retired to the port side of the
+      house, lit a kerosene torch he had brought up from the engine room and
+      waved it. He waited. Presently, in the gloom off to port, he saw the red
+      and green side lights of the little cruiser. For a moment both lights were
+      visible; then the master of the <i>Narcissus</i>, now in charge of the
+      cruiser, ported his helm and showed his red only. Murphy waited, and
+      presently both red and green showed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Starboard now, and show your green,&rdquo; Murphy pleaded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The red went out and the green alone showed; so Mike Murphy extinguished
+      his torch and rejoined Cappy Ricks, Terence and the ubiquitous Mr.
+      Daniels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sam, my dear boy,&rdquo; Cappy was saying as Murphy came up, &ldquo;Mike and Terence
+      own in the <i>Narcissus</i> and they work for me&mdash;hence their
+      alliance. You owe me no fealty&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The hell I don't, Cap!&rdquo; Sam retorted lightly. &ldquo;You're a fine old sport,
+      and I'm for you till the last dog is hung.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sam, I am deeply grateful. Your friendship is very dear to me indeed. I
+      have a twenty-two-thousand acre ranch down in Monterey County, California&mdash;don't
+      know why I bought it, unless it was because it was a bargain and ranch
+      property in California is bound to increase in value&mdash;and you're my
+      foreman if we ever get out of this with a whole skin. I'll make it the
+      best job you ever had, Sam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Mr. Ricks!&rdquo; A moment before it had been Cap. &ldquo;If you never saw
+      a man fight for a good job before, just watch me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0054" id="link2HCH0054"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The horse tenders in the other holds were summoned and informed that for
+      the present the <i>Narcissus</i> would not be bombed. Quickly two of them,
+      with Mike Murphy and Sam Daniels, donned the dungarees and caps of the
+      prisoners and strapped on their belts containing the automatics in their
+      holsters. In the interim Terence had descended to the collapsible boat
+      bumping at the gangway and fended her off until Sam Daniels, the two
+      cowboys and Mike Murphy joined him; whereupon Terence took one pair of
+      oars, while Murphy handled the other, and the boat crept out from the
+      steamer and headed directly for the submarine, which had been ratching
+      backward and forward under a dead-slow bell, watching the towering black
+      hulk of the <i>Narcissus</i> rolling idly. A light showed on the turret of
+      the submarine, outlining vaguely the figures of half a dozen men on her
+      small deck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The disposition of Mike Murphy's forces was such that the chances of the
+      enemy detecting the substitution of the boarding party before it should
+      reach the submersible were reduced to a minimum. In the bow of the
+      collapsible one of the cowboys sat, facing the stern; Terence and Mike
+      also faced the stern, by reason of the fact that they were rowing; and Sam
+      Daniels and the other cowboy, seated in the stern sheets, were under
+      orders to turn and look back at the <i>Narcissus</i> as the boat came
+      within the radius of the meager light from the submarine's turret. Thus
+      they ran little risk of premature discovery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For,&rdquo; as Cappy Ricks sagely reminded them just before they pulled away
+      from the <i>Narcissus</i>, &ldquo;the German is both cautious and cocksure. The
+      capture of his bombing party has been effected without a sound; the
+      commander saw our men leave the steamer in the boats; he sees the <i>Narcissus</i>
+      now not under command and wallowing; he figures that all is lovely and the
+      goose honks high. Therefore, he will be off his guard, since his
+      suspicions have not been roused. His deck is very dimly lighted by that
+      single light on the turret, and he knows that light is sufficient to guide
+      the boat party back to the submarine. There is no sea running to speak of;
+      so it will not be necessary for him to turn his searchlight on you to
+      light the way for you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Moreover, he will not care to use his searchlight, because it may guide a
+      patrol boat to this spot, and Terence has very carefully turned out all
+      the lights on the ship which might be visible from a distance, because
+      that is precisely what that lieutenant would or should have done if we had
+      given him time. And when you row toward that submarine, row like the
+      devil, because that's the way the bombing party would row in their hurry
+      to board the submarine and steam clear of the explosion. It is my guess
+      that the instant you heave alongside you will be snagged with boat hooks
+      by the men on her deck. In the excitement of making a quick get-away
+      nobody will be looking into your faces, anyhow; they'll see your familiar
+      dungaree suits and caps; some of them may even give you a hand to help you
+      when you leap aboard. Do not despise such help; just extend your left
+      hands and before you let go the enemy's right bend your guns&mdash;and
+      you, Terry, your monkey wrench&mdash;over their heads. You'll have the
+      deck in a pig's whisper! Then, Mike, the rest is up to you. I've made the
+      ball; now you fire it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I take it the submarine will be in such a hurry to get away that all the
+      men on her deck will reach down and snake the boat in; once out of danger,
+      they'll plan on knocking that collapsible down and storing it away at
+      their leisure. Tackle 'em while they're busy with the boat&mdash;provided
+      you get aboard unsuspected. Terence, remember to shout the minute you go
+      into action&mdash;and I'll give you fighting light.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Following these instructions, Cappy had very solemnly shaken hands all
+      round and departed for the bridge, where he removed the canvas covering
+      from the searchlight, bent the reflector toward the submarine, and waited,
+      with his nervous old finger on the switch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In pursuance of Cappy Ricks' instructions, Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon
+      rowed furiously toward the submarine&mdash;so furiously, indeed, that the
+      harsh grating of their oars in the rowlocks apprised Captain Emil Bechtel
+      of their approach some seconds before the boat was visible. At his brisk
+      command the men on deck stepped down to the low pipe railing on the port
+      side of the deck, prepared to snag the boat the instant she drew
+      alongside. When he could hear the sound of the commander's voice, Mike
+      Murphy chanced a quick look over his shoulder, noted the position of the
+      submarine, and turned his head again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Four more strokes, Terry; then ship your oars,&rdquo; he cautioned the engineer
+      in a low voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the fourth stroke Terence obediently shipped his oars; with a deft
+      twist of one oar, Murphy straightened the boat and shot neatly in
+      alongside the submarine, the deck of which was less than three feet above
+      the water. As Cappy Ricks had anticipated, the men on that deck promptly
+      snagged the boat at bow and stern with boat hooks&mdash;and on the instant
+      Cappy Ricks' bully boys leaped for their prey.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As luck would have it, Terence P. Reardon was the only one offered a
+      helping hand&mdash;and he did not despise it; neither did he forget
+      Cappy's last instructions. With neatness and ample force he brought his
+      monkey wrench down on the German's skull; and then to Cappy Ricks, waiting
+      on the bridge of the <i>Narcissus</i>, came the ancient Irish battlecry of
+      <i>Faugh-a-ballagh!</i> For the benefit of those not versed in the ways of
+      the fighting Celt, be it known that <i>Faugh-a-ballagh</i> means Clear the
+      Road. And history records but few instances when Irish soldiery have
+      raised that cry and rushed without clearing a pathway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fight was too short and savage for description. Suffice it to say that
+      not a shot was fired&mdash;the work was too close for that, for the
+      surprise had been complete. Even before Cappy Ricks could focus the
+      steamer's searchlight on the fracas, it was over. Terence P. Reardon got
+      two in two strokes of his trusty monkey wrench; Sam Daniels and his two
+      fellow-bronco-busters each laid open a German scalp with the long barrels
+      of their forty-fives; and Michael J. Murphy, plain lunatic-crazy with
+      rage, disdaining all but Nature's weapons, tied into the amazed Captain
+      Emil Bechtel under the rules of the Longshoremen's Union&mdash;which is to
+      state that Michael J. Murphy clinched Emil Bechtel, lifted him, set him
+      down hard on his plump back, crawled him, knelt on his arms, and addressed
+      him in these words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hah! (A right jab to the face.) You would, would you? (Left jab to face.)
+      You pig-iron polisher! (Bending the nose back forcibly with the heel of
+      his fist.) When I get (smash) through with your (smash) head (smash) it'll
+      be long (smash) before you'll block (smash) your hat again (smash) on the
+      Samson post, you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out av me way, Michael, lad, till I get a kick at his slats!&rdquo; crooned
+      Terence P. Reardon, heaving alongside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You gossoon! Take care of the scuttle; don't let them close it down, or
+      they'll submerge and drown us. Leave this lad to me, I tell you. He's the
+      captain, and why shouldn't he be killed by one of his own rank?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus rebuked, Terence curbed his blood-thirsty proclivities. Leaving his
+      countryman to beat his devil's tattoo on the submarine commander, Terence
+      leaped to the open scuttle just in time to bang another head as it
+      appeared on a level with the deck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let that be a lesson to you!&rdquo; he called as the unconscious man slid back
+      down the companion into the interior of the vessel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he sat on the lid of the scuttle, poised his monkey wrench on high
+      over the scuttle, and awaited developments, the while he tossed an order
+      over his shoulder to Sam Daniels:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring me the bum!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which one?&rdquo; Mr. Daniels queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The German bum, av coorse,&rdquo; Terence retorted waspishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But all these bums are Germans&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that kind av a bum!&rdquo; howled Terence. &ldquo;I mean the bum in the boat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus enlightened, Sam brought a bomb from the boat and handed it to the
+      engineer. In the interim Mike Murphy had polished off his man to his
+      entire satisfaction and joined Terence at the scuttle, while one of the
+      horse wranglers, a cool individual and a firm believer in safety first,
+      collected the weapons from the fallen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy approached the scuttle and bawled down it to the amazed and
+      puzzled crew below. As a linguist Mike was no great shakes, particularly
+      when called upon to juggle German; but he was a resolute fellow and not
+      afraid to do his best at all times. Consequently his hail took the form of
+      &ldquo;Hey! <i>Landsmann!</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Something told Terence Reardon that Michael was through; so he added his
+      mite to the store and bellowed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Spreckels die deutsch,</i> ye blackguards?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then both sat back to await developments. Presently a voice at the foot of
+      the companion said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello dere! Vat iss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vat iss? Hell iss! Dot's vat! Listen to me, you Dutchy. I'm the skipper
+      of that horse transport your commander tried to sink without warning, and
+      I'm in command of the deck of this craft, with the scuttle open; and you
+      can't submerge and wash me off, either. When I give the word I want you
+      and your men to come up, one at a time and no crowding. And if you're not
+      up five minutes after I order you up I'll not wait; I'll set a bomb in
+      your turret, back off in the small boat and kill with revolvers any man
+      that tries to come up and see where the fuse is burning in order to put it
+      out. Do you surrender, or would you rather die?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vait a minute und I find oud,&rdquo; the German answered promptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It required five minutes for a council of war below decks; then the
+      interpreter came to the foot of the companion and informed Mike Murphy
+      that, considering the circumstances, they had decided to live. In the
+      interim the skipper of the <i>Narcissus</i> had arrived, with
+      re-enforcements, in the cruiser, and reported that his crew was getting
+      back aboard the steamer as fast as possible and would have her under
+      command again in a minute. At Murphy's order the unconscious Germans were
+      put aboard the cruiser; later, when the remainder of the submersible's
+      crew came up, one at a time, they were disarmed and lined up on the little
+      deck; whereupon Michael J. Murphy addressed their spokesman thus:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen&mdash;you! It would be just like you to have set a time bomb
+      somewhere in this submarine to blow her up after you were all safely out
+      of her. If you did you made a grave tactical error. You're not going to
+      leave her for quite a while yet. You're going to sit quietly here on deck,
+      under guard, while the steamer hooks on to this submarine and tows her;
+      and if my prize crew is blown up, remember, you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The spokesman&mdash;he was the chief engineer, by the way&mdash;yelled &ldquo;<i>Ach,
+      Gott!</i>&rdquo; and leaped for the scuttle. Mike Murphy followed him into the
+      engine room in time to see him stamp out a long length of slow-burning
+      fuse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any more?&rdquo; Murphy queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dot von vas sufficient, if it goes off,&rdquo; the German answered simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right!&rdquo; Mike Murphy replied. &ldquo;I'll take a chance and so will you.
+      You'll stay aboard and run those oil engines.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later with the submarine's crew safely under lock and key on
+      the <i>Narcissus,</i> the big freighter continued on her course, followed
+      by the captured submarine, with Michael J. Murphy in her turret and a
+      quartermaster from the <i>Narcissus</i> at her helm. In the engine room
+      her own engineer grudgingly explained to Terence P. Reardon the workings
+      of an oil engine and the ramifications of the electric-light system&mdash;and
+      during all of that period the deadly monkey wrench never left the port
+      engineer's hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sam Daniels and his comrades were once more back aboard the <i>Narcissus,</i>
+      attending to the horses; and Cappy Ricks, his heart so filled with pride
+      that it was like to burst, occupied the submarine's turret with the
+      doughty Michael J. For an hour they discussed the marvelous coup until
+      there was no angle of it left undiscussed; whereupon fell a silence, with
+      Michael J.'s eyes fixed on the dark bulk ahead that marked the <i>Narcissus</i>,
+      and Cappy's thoughts on what Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner would say when
+      they heard the glorious news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For nearly an hour not a word passed between the pair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently Cappy's regular breathing drew Murphy's attention to him. He had
+      fallen asleep in his seat, his chin bent on his old breast, a little
+      half-smile on his lips. And as Murphy looked at him pridefully Cappy spoke
+      in his sleep:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Holy sailor! How Mike Murphy can swear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Terence P. Reardon came to the foot of the little spiral staircase leading
+      to the turret.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Michael, me lad,&rdquo; he announced, &ldquo;the internal-combustion ile ingin' is
+      the marine ingin' av the future. They're as simple as two an' two is four.
+      Listen, <i>avic!</i> Does she not run like a twenty-four-jewel watch? An'
+      this man that invinted thim was a Ger-r-man&mdash;more power to him!
+      Faith, I'm thinkin' if the Ger-r-mans were as great in war as they are in
+      peace 'twould need more nor the Irish to take the measure av thim!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Irish?&rdquo; Mike Murphy answered irritably. &ldquo;Terence, quit your bragging! God
+      knows the Irish are great&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The greatest in the wide, wide wur-rld!&rdquo; Terence declared, with all the
+      egotism of his race.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whist, Terry! There's a little old Yankee man aboard; if you wake him up
+      he'll call you a liar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The darlin' ould fox!&rdquo; Terry murmured affectionately, and went back to
+      his engines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0055" id="link2HCH0055"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The entire office force of the Blue Star Navigation Company and the Ricks
+      Lumber &amp; Logging Company had assembled in the general office to greet
+      Cappy Ricks, Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon upon their return from
+      Europe, and to hear at first hand the story of their wanderings and
+      adventures. And when the wondrous tale had been told, and business was
+      once more resumed, Matt Peasley, Mr. Skinner, Mike and Terence convened in
+      Cappy Ricks' office for further discussion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We sent that half million dollars to New York to be transferred to the
+      credit of the French Government when the bill of sale for that steamer
+      should be deposited with the bank there,&rdquo; Matt remarked presently. &ldquo;What
+      kind of a vessel did you buy, Cappy? What are her dimensions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What kind of a ship did I buy?&rdquo; Cappy piped. &ldquo;Hum-m-m! A ship is good. I
+      bought four; and&mdash;believe me!&mdash;they're no skiffs, either. All of
+      them are big foreign-going steel tramps, with lots of speed and power.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Four for half a million dollars?&rdquo; Matt Peasley cried unbelievingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They would have cost anybody else a million and a half; but&mdash;er&mdash;well,
+      you see, Matt, I had a stand-in with the right people. The four vessels I
+      bought were all prizes of war&mdash;German merchantmen converted into
+      commerce raiders, which had slipped through the cordon of British cruisers
+      and got into the North Atlantic, where French cruisers overhauled them and
+      brought them into port. They were all there and up for sale to the highest
+      bidder when we got there with the horses and our captured submarine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I bid half a million for the lot, which is probably about half of what it
+      cost to build them; and there was a Frenchman and an Englishman bidding
+      against me. They each had me topped, and the vessels were knocked down to
+      the Frenchman; but when he found I was a competitor&mdash;that I was
+      Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks&mdash;that's what they called me, Matt&mdash;in
+      command of the party that captured a German submarine, intact and without
+      the loss of a single man on either side-say, Matt, the stuff was all off!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He and the Englishman went into a conference; and the result was, the
+      Frenchman ran out on his bid and forfeited his ten-per-cent certified
+      check. That left the Englishman the next highest bidder; and he ran out on
+      his bid and left the ships to me! Then the Englishman shook hands with me
+      and the Frenchman kissed me. I thought the least I could do was to make
+      good to them on the earnest money they had forfeited, and they accepted
+      it. Then the President of France heard about it and came down to Brest to
+      see me; and he kissed me, too, and gave me the Officers' Cross of the
+      Legion of Honor. I didn't tell him I was just a private in the ranks. Oh,
+      no! Nothing doing. I was introduced as Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks&mdash;and
+      that settled it. I was an officer, for all my courtesy title; and I took
+      the Cross, because I was prouder than Punch to have it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then the Chamber of Deputies met and voted the Frenchman and the
+      Englishman back their forfeited earnest money; and they gave me back my
+      checks, and I wrote new ones for the same amount and split the swag
+      fifty-fifty between the two nations for the care of their wounded. Then I
+      gave a dinner aboard the submarine, and President Poincare was present. I
+      presented the submarine, with the compliments of the Blue Star Navigation
+      Company, to the Republic of France, and the President accepted, all hands
+      went out on deck and we cracked a bottle of champagne over that
+      submersible's bows and rechristened her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What name?&rdquo; Matt and Skinner chorused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Shamrock&mdash;out of compliment to Mike and Terence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine!&rdquo; Matt cried. &ldquo;Then what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, Matt. Our business was finished and I was anxious to get back on
+      the job; so we engaged skippers and crews to bring our four freighters to
+      New York, and came home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better step lively, boy, and dig up some business for them! Mike will
+      give you the data on their tonnage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt drew Mike Murphy aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me, Mike,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;did the old man get soused at that dinner
+      aboard the <i>Shamrock?</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Matt,&rdquo; Murphy answered; &ldquo;what Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks does
+      outside of office hours is none of my business&mdash;or yours, either. And
+      if you don't like that answer help yourself to a new port captain. I'm not
+      telling everything I know, Matt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0056" id="link2HCH0056"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the morning of April 3, 1917, Cappy Ricks came down to his office,
+      spread a newspaper on his desk and carefully cut from it the war address
+      of President Wilson to Congress, made the night before. This clipping the
+      old gentleman folded carefully; he placed it in an envelope, sealed it and
+      wrote across the face of the envelope: &ldquo;Property of Alden Matthew
+      Peasley.&rdquo; Then he summoned Mr. Skinner, president of the Ricks Lumber
+      &amp; Logging Company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;have you read the President's Message
+      to Congress?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have,&rdquo; replied Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess that President of ours isn't some tabasco, eh? By the Holy
+      Pink-Toed Prophet, he's just naturally read Bill Hohenzollern out of the
+      party. Bully for Woodrow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner's calm cold features refused to thaw, however, under the heat
+      of his employer's enthusiasm, seeing which Cappy slid out to the edge of
+      his chair and gazed contemplatively at Skinner over the rims of his
+      spectacles. &ldquo;Hum-m-m!&rdquo; he said. The very tempo of that throat-clearing
+      should have warned Mr. Skinner that he was treading on thin ice, but with
+      his usual complacence he ignored the storm signal, for his mind was upon
+      private, not public affairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm offered the old barkentine <i>C. D. Bryant</i> for a cargo of redwood
+      to Sydney,&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;The freight rate is two hundred and twenty
+      shillings per thousand feet, but the <i>Bryant</i> is so old and rotten I
+      can't get any insurance on the cargo if I ship by her. I'm just wondering
+      if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haramph-h-h! Ahem-m-m!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;it's worth while taking a chance to move that foreign order.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner!&rdquo; Cappy almost shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner looked at him, startled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you think and talk of old barkentines and non-insurable foreign
+      cargoes at this crisis in our country's history?&rdquo; the autocrat of the
+      numerous Ricks corporations shrilled furiously. &ldquo;Dad burn your picture,
+      Skinner, are you human? Don't you ever get a thrill from reading a
+      document like this?&rdquo;&mdash;and he tapped the envelope containing the press
+      clipping. &ldquo;What kind of juice runs in your arteries, anyhow? Red blood or
+      buttermilk? Is your soul so dog-goned dead, crushed under the weight of
+      dollars, that you have failed to realize this document is destined to go
+      down in history side by side with Lincoln's Gettysburg speech? I'll bet
+      you don't know the Gettysburg speech. Bet you never heard of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nonsense, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; Skinner retorted suavely. &ldquo;Pray do not excite
+      yourself. Suppose war does impend? Is that any reason why I should neglect
+      business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course it is, you gibbering jackdaw! I feel like setting fire to the
+      building, just to celebrate. Can't you step into my office on a day like
+      this and discuss the country and her affairs for five minutes, just to
+      prove you're an American citizen? Can't you rejoice with me over these
+      lofty, noble sentiments&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Words, words, empty words,&rdquo; warned Mr. Skinner, always a reactionary
+      Republican.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner,&rdquo; said Cappy with deadly calm, &ldquo;one more disloyal peep out of you
+      and I shall have no alternative save to request your resignation. I think
+      you're a pacifist at heart, anyhow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh,&rdquo; snorted Skinner. &ldquo;You've changed your tune, haven't you? Who
+      trotted up and down California Street last fall, soliciting campaign
+      contributions for the Republican nominee from the lumber and shipping
+      interests? Wasn't it Alden P. Ricks? Who thought the country was going to
+      wrack and ruin&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was last fall,&rdquo; Cappy interrupted shrilly. &ldquo;We live and learn&mdash;that
+      is, some of us do,&rdquo; he added significantly. &ldquo;Never mind about my politics
+      last fall; just remember I haven't any this spring. I'm an American
+      citizen, and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, some German or Germans will
+      find it out before I'm gathered to the bosom of Abraham. I have a right to
+      disapprove of my President if I feel like it, but I'll be shot if I'll let
+      anybody else pick on him.&rdquo; And Cappy shook his head emphatically several
+      times like a squinch-owl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm for him, now that we're committed to this war,&rdquo; Skinner declared
+      in an effort to soothe the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure! We're locking the stable door after the horse has been stolen. If
+      we'd been for him when the <i>Lusitania</i> was sunk instead of being
+      divided in our opinions and swayed in our judgment by a lot of hysterical
+      pacifists and German propagandists we'd have been into the war long ago
+      and saved millions of human lives; we'd have had the war won.&rdquo; He sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a prime lot of jackasses we Americans are!&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;We talk
+      of liberty and demand license; we prate of democracy and we're a nation of
+      snobs!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wanted to see me about something,&rdquo; Skinner reminded him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, yes; I was forgetting. This envelope, Skinner, contains the
+      President's address. Take it and put it in the vault, and when my grandson
+      is twelve years old give that press clipping to his mother and tell her I
+      said she was to read it to the boy and make him learn it by heart. I won't
+      be on hand to do the Americanizing of that youngster myself, and most
+      likely Matt Peasley will be too busy to think much about it, so I'm taking
+      no chances. You rile me to beat the band sometimes, Skinner, but I'll say
+      this much in your favor: I have never known you to forget anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner took the envelope and departed, and Cappy rang for a
+      stenographer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take a telegram, fast day message,&rdquo; he barked: &ldquo;'His Excellency, The
+      President, White House, Washington, D. C. Dear Mister President: I did not
+      vote for you last fall, but your address of last night makes me ashamed
+      that I did not. I am controlling owner of the Blue Star Navigation
+      Company, operating a fleet of fifty vessels of various kinds, twelve of
+      which are foreign-going steam freighters. Am also controlling owner of the
+      Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company, cutting a million feet of lumber
+      daily. Everything I control, every dollar I possess, is at the service of
+      my country. God bless you, sir! Alden P. Ricks.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sounds sloppy, but it's the way I feel,&rdquo; Cappy declared. &ldquo;When a man
+      has a big heart-breaking job to do and a lot of Philistines are knocking
+      him, maybe it helps him to retain his faith in humankind to have some
+      fellow grow sincerely sloppy and slip a telegraphic cheer in with the
+      hoots. Besides, if I didn't let off steam today I'd swell up and bust
+      myself all over the office&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened and Mr. Terence P. Reardon, port engineer of the Blue Star
+      Navigation Company, entered. Mr. Reardon's right eye was in deep mourning
+      and at no very remote period something&mdash;presumably a fist&mdash;had
+      shifted his nose slightly to starboard; indeed, even as he entered Cappy's
+      office a globule of the rich red Reardon blood trembled in each of the
+      port engineer's nostrils. His knuckles were slightly skinned and the light
+      of battle blazed in his black eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Terence, my dear, dear fellow,&rdquo; murmured the horrified Cappy, &ldquo;you look
+      as if you had been fed into a concrete mixer. Have you been fighting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sor,&rdquo; Mr. Reardon replied in his deep Kerry brogue, &ldquo;ye might call
+      it that for lack of somethin' more expressive. I've just fired the chief
+      engineer o' the <i>Tillicum.&rdquo;</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Denicke? Why, Terry, he's a first-rate engineer. I'm amazed. He was
+      with us ten years before you entered the employ&mdash;worked up from
+      oiler; in fact, I must have an explanation of your action in this case,
+      Terence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He called the President a nut. I fired him for that. Then he said the
+      Kaiser was the greatest single force for civilization that ever was, an'
+      wit' that I gave him a lift under the lug an' we wint at it. He's in the
+      Harbor Receivin' Hospital this minute, an' I'm here to tell ye, sor, wit'
+      all respect, that if ye don't like the way I've treated that Dutchman ye
+      can get yerself a new port ingineer, for I'll quit, an' that's somethin'
+      I'm not wishful to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite calmly Cappy Ricks pressed the buzzer on his desk. The cashier of
+      the Blue Star Navigation Company entered. &ldquo;Son,&rdquo; said Cappy, &ldquo;hereafter,
+      when making out Mr. Reardon's pay check, tack onto it twenty-five dollars
+      extra each month. That is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sor,&rdquo; murmured Mr. Reardon, quite overcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get out!&rdquo; cried Cappy. &ldquo;You're a vision of sudden death. Go wash
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Mr. Reardon took his departure Cappy sighed. &ldquo;If Skinner only had a set
+      of works like that port engineer!&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;If he only had!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0057" id="link2HCH0057"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It will be recalled that war with Germany was declared on Good Friday.
+      Bright and early on Saturday morning Cappy Ricks arrived at his office and
+      immediately summoned Mr. Skinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, my dear boy,&rdquo; he chirped, &ldquo;'the tumult and the shouting dies.
+      We're down to brass tacks&mdash;at last; and now is time for all good men
+      and true to come to the aid of the party. I'm too old to bear arms, and
+      when I was young enough bantam battalions weren't fashionable;
+      nevertheless, I am enlisting for the war, and I start in this morning to
+      do my part. I won't wear any uniform, but believe me, Skinner, I'm the
+      little corporal who's going to mobilize the Blue Star Navigation Company
+      and the Ricks Lumber &amp; Logging Company, together with all and sundry
+      of their subsidiary corporations. I'm starting with you, Skinner. Are you
+      figuring on enlisting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not, sir. I'm forty-three years old, married&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No excuses necessary, Skinner. Even if you had planned to enlist I would
+      have forbidden the banns. You'd make a bird of a paymaster or
+      quartermaster, but as an enlisted man&mdash;well, the other bad soldier
+      boys would toss you in a blanket. So I'll assign you to a job in civil
+      life. Skinner, what do you know about aeroplanes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely nothing, except that they fly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then learn something! Skinner, the ideal wood for aeroplane construction
+      is clear Pacific Coast spruce. I've been reading up on the subject.
+      Inasmuch as this war must be won in the air, you can imagine the number of
+      aeroplanes the country must turn out in the next eighteen months.
+      Stu-pen-dous, Skinner, simply stu-pen-dous! Try to visualize the wastage
+      alone in the aeroplanes on the battle fronts; consider the thousands of
+      seaplanes that will scour the Atlantic on the lookout for submarines, and
+      then ask yourself, Skinner, what the devil those overworked army and navy
+      officers in Washington are going to do about laying in a supply of clear
+      Pacific Coast spruce before these pirates of lumbermen get next and boost
+      the price clear out of sight. Skinner, what is clear spruce worth at the
+      Northern mills today?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About fifty-five dollars per thousand, sir. For years clear spruce never
+      rose in price beyond thirty-five dollars, but purchases by the British
+      Government have shot the price up during the past year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly! And purchases by the United States Government will shoot the
+      price up to a hundred and fifty dollars a thousand if you and I don't get
+      busy. Now then, Skinner, listen to me! We have a couple of thousand acres
+      of wonderful spruce timber adjacent to our fir holdings at Port Hadlock,
+      Washington. Wire the mill manager to swamp in a logging railroad to that
+      spruce timber, put in logging camps and concentrate on spruce. The clear
+      stock we'll sell to the Government, and the lower grades will be snapped
+      up by the box factories.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner nodded his comprehension of the order and Cappy continued:
+      &ldquo;Wire our mill managers at Astoria, Oregon and Eureka, California, to log
+      out all the spruce they come across among the fir. As for you, Skinner,
+      accept no more orders for clear spruce from our regular customers, and go
+      easy on accepting orders for any kind of lumber from our Eastern
+      customers. All those car shipments must be made up of kiln-dried stock,
+      and we'll want most of the space in our dry kilns to cook this clear green
+      spruce for Uncle Sam, because he's going to want it in a hurry, and if he
+      can't get it when he wants it&mdash;why, chaos has come again and all
+      hell's let loose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What price do you propose charging the Government for this clear spruce?&rdquo;
+       the cautious Skinner queried. He owned a little stock in the Ricks Lumber
+      &amp; Logging Company and already he had a vision of an extra dividend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolute cost plus ten per cent,&rdquo; replied Cappy promptly. &ldquo;No excess
+      profits at the expense of the country at war, Skinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He gazed upon Skinner contemplatively for several seconds. &ldquo;And mind you
+      don't figure the cost too liberally,&rdquo; he warned him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, sir. Is that all?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not by a jugful! You scatter round the market and buy up every stick of
+      clear two-inch spruce sawed and on hand at the Northern mills. Buy at the
+      market, but do not hesitate to go five dollars over the market if
+      necessary to get the stock. Then place orders for all the clear spruce the
+      mills can cut and deliver within the next six months, and we'll have the
+      market hog tied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got to do it, Skinner. I tell you there isn't a whole lot of difference
+      between a lumberman and a manufacturer or a food speculator. When he gets
+      the public foul, doesn't the public pay through the nose? Haven't we been
+      doing it ourselves in the matter of ship freights? But we must reform,
+      Skinner, we must reform and get down to a cooperative basis, no matter how
+      great the agony. On this spruce deal alone, for instance, we'll save the
+      Government a couple of million dollars. See if we don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We're entitled to a liberal profit,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner protested. &ldquo;If&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No ifs, buts or ands! Obey orders! About the time we have the market on
+      clear spruce well cornered the lumbermen's boys will be in the army and
+      the lumbermen themselves will have begun to realize that they must
+      sacrifice something for their country. And once we're sane we'll be able
+      to work hand in glove with the Government. The United States of America
+      has been money-mad for a long time, Skinner, but this war is going to
+      spiritualize us and show us that there's a lot more in life than
+      dollar-chasing. Hop to your job, P. D. Q., Skinner, my boy; and as you
+      pass out send Captain Matt Peasley in to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matt Peasley came smilingly into his father-in-law's office. &ldquo;Well,
+      Cappy,&rdquo; he hailed the old gentleman, &ldquo;I understand you've come out of your
+      retirement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're damned whistling, I have!&rdquo; Cappy rejoined. &ldquo;Something doing, boy,
+      something for everybody! Have they told you about it in the general
+      office?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Told me about what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About the President asking me if I would cooperate with him to the extent
+      of serving as the Pacific Coast member of the Shipping Board? I guess that
+      isn't some honor, eh? How the devil he ever dug up an old fossil like me
+      is a mystery. I wired him, advising that he appoint a younger man, but he
+      replied that he knew I was the livest shipping man in the country and an
+      American through and through. So, of course, Matt, I have accepted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your forty odd years' experience will be of inestimable value to the
+      country in this emergency,&rdquo; Matt declared heartily. &ldquo;I'm proud of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, son. Now then, Matt, to business! The Government's going to
+      need every one of our ships that can run foreign.&rdquo; Matt nodded. &ldquo;Very
+      well, then,&rdquo; Cappy continued; &ldquo;as fast as their present charters lapse,
+      decline to recharter except for single trips. We must go on a war basis
+      and be prepared to turn our ships over to the Government on short notice.
+      I'll be too busy to keep my eye on the details of the Blue Star's
+      transactions with the Government, so I'll give you a straight tip now&mdash;I
+      want no gouging. Remember that, Matthew, my son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0058" id="link2HCH0058"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The following day Cappy had a call from Sam Daniels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, Sam,&rdquo; Cappy greeted his lanky ranch manager. &ldquo;What brings you up
+      to town? Not that I'm not glad to see you, for I was on the point of
+      writing you on some matters that had occurred to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've come up to resign my job,&rdquo; Daniels declared humbly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Resign the best job you've ever had, Sam!&rdquo; Cappy was amazed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To resign the best job I ever will have, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels hitched his chair close to his employer's desk. &ldquo;Boss,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;I'm awful sorry, but I'm goin' soldiering.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks sprang to his feet with an oath. &ldquo;You're not!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;I
+      won't hear of it. You're too valuable a man to go into the army and get
+      yourself killed&mdash;particularly since you can do your share at home.
+      Why, I was just going to write you and give you your orders for patriotic
+      duty. You go back to the ranch, Sam, and get busy. Plant spuds, wheat,
+      oats, barley, corn&mdash;plant all you can of it. Raise heifers, sheep,
+      hogs, cows, bulls, calves, turkeys&mdash;everything that can be eaten.
+      Raise horses&mdash;and in particular, raise mules.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd rather raise hell with a bunch of Germans,&rdquo; Sam Daniels declared
+      feelingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your job is to help produce cereals and canned beef for the
+      hell-raisers,&rdquo; Cappy declared. &ldquo;The army will want horses for the
+      artillery and mules for the transport. Why, this war may last for years.
+      Sam, you infernal scoundrel, you get back on the farm. You're forty-five
+      years old and you've been shot and whittled enough in your day to last you
+      the remainder of your natural life. Let the young fellows do the fighting
+      abroad, while you and I and the other hasbeens do it at home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd a heap rather lay off in the brush somewheres an' snipe Germans,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Daniels pleaded. &ldquo;On the level, boss, if they'll give me a Springfield
+      rifle with telescopic sights I'll guarantee to sicken anythin' I get a
+      fair sight on at a thousand yards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In-fer-nal scoundrel! How dare you argue with me! You get back on your
+      job!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boss, I'm going into the army,&rdquo; Daniels announced sadly, but nevertheless
+      firmly. &ldquo;I'm givin' you a month's notice so you can get a man to take my
+      place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy surrendered. &ldquo;All right, Sam. If you survive, your job will be
+      waiting for you when you get back. However, you needn't give me any
+      notice. I'll have another man in charge of the ranch to-morrow, and you
+      can enlist today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you're not sore at me, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sam, I'm proud of you. Wish I were young enough to go it with you. Are
+      you in a hurry to get to France?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then join the marines. They always go first. Good-bye, Sam. Good luck to
+      you and God bless you! Draw your wages as you go out and tell the cashier
+      I said to give you an extra month's wages for tobacco money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels withdrew, visibly filled with emotion. Ten minutes later Cappy
+      Ricks, watching at his office window, saw Mr. Daniels cross the street and
+      enter the marines' recruiting office. Immediately Cappy called that
+      recruiting office on the telephone and asked for the doctor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, doctor!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In a few minutes a lanky, battle scarred
+      rancher is coming in to be examined. I don't want him to enlist. He's my
+      ranch manager and worth more to the country in his job than at the Front.
+      You turn him down physically, doctor, and I'll guarantee to send you five
+      fine recruits instead of that old fossil. His name is Sam Daniels, and I'm
+      Alden P. Ricks, of the Blue Star Navigation Company, across the street.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We need an automobile to send our recruiting sergeant out through the
+      state,&rdquo; the wary medico replied. &ldquo;Now, if you could loan us one&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll have my own car and chauffeur over in half an hour, and you keep him
+      as long as you need him,&rdquo; Cappy piped. &ldquo;Only tell Sam Daniels he's
+      faltering on the brink of the grave and send him back to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour later Mr. Daniels slouched into Cappy Ricks' office. &ldquo;Well,
+      Private Daniels,&rdquo; the old man saluted him, &ldquo;you look downcast. Has
+      something slipped?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say it has. The doc over to the recruitin' office says I got a
+      heart murmur from smoking cigarettes, which it's a cinch the excitement o'
+      battle brings on death from heart failure, an' then folks would say I died
+      o' fright.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's crazy Sam! Tell him to go chase himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess he's right, Mr. Ricks. He 'most cried to let me go, an' was for
+      waivin' the heart murmur, but it seems I got a floatin' kidney, an' flat
+      feet. Gosh, I never knew I had flat feet, but then I've rid horses all my
+      life an' ain't never hiked none to speak of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was silent several minutes, studying the pattern of the office carpet.
+      Presently he looked up. &ldquo;Is my successor at the ranch already appointed?&rdquo;
+       he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go back to the fields and the kind-faced cows, Samuel,&rdquo; quoth Cappy
+      gently. &ldquo;Hurry, or you'll miss the train.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sam Daniels fled, and hard on his heels came Mrs. Michael J. Murphy, <i>nee</i>
+      Miss Keenan. It will be recalled that prior to her happy alliance with
+      Michael J. Murphy, Mrs. Murphy had been Cappy Ricks' favorite
+      stenographer. He received her cordially.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now then, what's gone wrong, my dear?&rdquo; he demanded. &ldquo;Have you and Mike
+      been making a hash of your married life that you should come in here on
+      the verge of tears?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Murphy blinked away a tear or two and sat down. &ldquo;Some of the boys in
+      the office will be enlisting, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;I wonder if there
+      might be a vacancy for me&mdash;if I might not have my old position back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks was genuinely concerned. &ldquo;Why, Mike won't let you earn your
+      living,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;Why do you make such an extraordinary request?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For Mike's sake, Mr. Ricks. Of late he has been very nervous and
+      distrait; scarcely touches his meals, and thinks, talks and dreams of war.
+      Last night he dreamed he was back in the navy and shouted out an order
+      that woke him up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to think of it, I believe Mike did spend several years in the navy
+      prior to going into mercantile marine,&rdquo; Cappy observed. &ldquo;So he has the war
+      fever again, eh? Wants to go back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ever since he received a letter from the Navy League. They're searching
+      out all the old navy men&mdash;gun pointers particularly&mdash;and asking
+      them to come back to help train the young fellows just coming into the
+      service. Mike was a gun pointer&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what in thunder is he hesitating for?&rdquo; Cappy piped wrathfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About me. Mike's married to me, you know, and he worries about what will
+      happen to me if he should be killed. He knows I'll be broken-hearted if he
+      enlists&mdash;he's afraid I'll not let him go. But if I got my job back
+      and was self-supporting, Mike's conscience would be&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you want him to go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Ricks, but he must go. I do not want to make a coward or a
+      slacker out of Mike. I've got to do my part, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said Cappy feelingly, &ldquo;you're a noble woman. Go back and attend
+      to your little home; Mike may go whenever he's ready and his salary with
+      the Blue Star will go on while he is in the navy; his job will be waiting
+      for him when he comes back. Good old Mike! How dreadful a crime to hobble
+      that Irishman with a first-class fight in sight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Mrs. Mike had left the office Cappy stiffened out suddenly in his
+      chair, clenched his fists and closed his eyes, as if in pain. And
+      presently between the wrinkled old lids two tears crept forth. Poor Cappy!
+      He was finding it very, very hard to be old and little and out of the
+      fight, for in every war in which the United States had engaged
+      representatives of the tribe of Ricks had gladly offered their bodies for
+      the supreme sacrifice, and as Cappy's active mind ran down the long and
+      bloody list his heart swelled with anguish in the knowledge that he was
+      doomed to play an inglorious part in the war with Germany. Mr. Skinner
+      coming in with a letter to Cappy, observed the old man's emotion and asked
+      him if he was ill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Skinner, I am,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;I'm sick at heart. God has given me
+      everything I ever wanted except six big strapping sons. Just think,
+      Skinner, what a glorious honor would be mine if I had six fine boys to
+      give to my country.&rdquo; His old lips trembled. &ldquo;And you could bank on the
+      Ricks boys,&rdquo; he added. &ldquo;My boys would never wait to be drafted. No,
+      sir-ree! When they heard the call they'd answer, like their ancestors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner, what has come over our boys of this generation? Why don't they
+      volunteer? Why does the President have to beg for men? Has the soul of the
+      idealist been corroded by a life of ease? Did the spirit of adventure die
+      with our forefathers? Is it any harder to die just because war has become
+      more terrible&mdash;more deadly? Oh, Skinner, Skinner! To be young and
+      tall and strong and whirled in the cycle of vast events&mdash;to play a
+      man's part in a glorious undertaking&mdash;to feel that I have enriched
+      the world with my efforts, however humble, or with my body revitalized the
+      soil made fallow by a ravishing monster. I feel, Skinner&mdash;I feel so
+      much and can do so little.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, he did do something that very afternoon. One after the other
+      he examined all the young men in his employ, discovered which of them
+      could afford the luxury of enlisting and then asked them bluntly whether
+      they were going to enlist. Three of them said they were, and Cappy
+      promised each of them a month's salary the day he should report to him in
+      uniform. Nine others appeared to be uncertain of their duty, so Cappy
+      fired them all, to the great distress of Mr. Skinner and Matt Peasley.
+      Cappy, however, turned a deaf ear to their remonstrances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man who won't fight for his country is no good,&rdquo; he declared; &ldquo;and I
+      won't keep a no-good son of a slacker on my pay roll. Get married men or
+      men who have been rejected for military service to take the places of
+      these bums who haven't courage enough even to try to enlist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0059" id="link2HCH0059"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The campaign for the Liberty bonds brought Cappy an appointment from the
+      mayor as captain of a corps of volunteer bond salesmen to work the
+      wholesale lumber and shipping trade, and for three weeks the old gentleman
+      was as busy as the proverbial one-armed paper hanger with the itch. He was
+      obsessed with a fear that the bond issue would be under-subscribed by
+      about a billion and a half and result in the United States of America
+      being accorded a hearty Teutonic horse laugh. Consequently he made five
+      separate subscriptions on his own account, and just before the lists
+      closed on the last day he was again overcome with apprehension and
+      subscribed for an additional ten thousand dollars' worth for his grandson!
+      When the result of the Liberty-bond campaign was made known he almost wept
+      with joy and gave a wonderful dinner to his corps of salesmen, after which
+      he went down to his ranch to rest for a week and see what Sam Daniels was
+      up to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The morning he returned to town, prepared to leap, heart and soul into the
+      hundred-million-dollar Red Cross drive, he had a visit from his port
+      captain, Michael J. Murphy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; Murphy announced, &ldquo;I've cleaned up all the little details in
+      my department, your new port captain is on the job, and I'm about to go
+      over to the naval training station on Goat Island and hold up my hand
+      again. But before I go, sir, I want to express to you something of what I
+      feel for what you've done for me and mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut, tut. Not another peep out of you, sir!&rdquo; Cappy commanded. To be
+      thanked for anything always made him feel uncomfortable. &ldquo;What branch of
+      the service do you hope to get into, Mike?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to get aboard a destroyer, sir, though they're the divil an' all
+      to live aboard. They offer the best chance for action. Patrolling the
+      submarine zone, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gosh,&rdquo; Cappy groaned; &ldquo;everybody's got the submarines on the brain, and
+      I'm tagging along with the rest. Mike, I swear I can't sleep nights,
+      thinking of this war. It breaks my heart to realize I'm out of it. And
+      because I'm a shipping man, naturally my fool brain runs to submarines and
+      how to control them. Mike, I have a great yearning to sink a submarine;
+      the screams of those scoundrels aboard her would be music to my ears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a serious problem,&rdquo; Murphy declared soberly; &ldquo;but I'm hoping our
+      Yankee ingenuity will solve it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we haven't done it to date, and in the meantime all the nut
+      inventors in the world are sending their nut ideas in to the National
+      Council of Defense. Of course I have a bright idea too. I'm a great hand
+      at hatching cute schemes, you know. However, I differ from the average
+      submarine nut in this&mdash;that I want to try out my theory in practice
+      before submitting it to an expectant world. Still, I'd need you to help
+      me; and now that you're going into the navy I suppose I'll have to forget
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I seem to remember a scheme of yours that resulted in the capture of a
+      submarine last year,&rdquo; Murphy reminded the old man. &ldquo;That was a bully
+      scheme, and I'm willing to wager that the head which produced it can
+      produce another just as good. Tell me your plan for eliminating
+      submarines, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My scheme doesn't contemplate a continuous performance,&rdquo; Cappy hastened
+      to explain, &ldquo;but it might work out once or twice&mdash;and in this great
+      international emergency anything is worth trying once. I could demonstrate
+      my theory in about two months&mdash;with your help.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; declared Michael J. Murphy, &ldquo;I'll wait until you give the
+      demonstration before enlisting in the navy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bully for you, Mike! I'll declare Terry Reardon in on the experiment
+      also, for the reason that one of the ingredients required is a chief
+      engineer with courage to spare. Now then, for my scheme: Do you know the
+      <i>Costa Rica?</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That old steamer that used to run to Panama for the Pacific Mail?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's in the bone yard&mdash;laid up for keeps, Mike. Her plates are so
+      thin and soft the least jar would punch a hole in her; she's wrecked and
+      strained from fifty years of service; her engines are worn out, her
+      boilers are burned out, her gear is antiquated, and even in these times of
+      abnormal freight rates she's too far gone to patch up and keep running.
+      They kicked her up in the mud of Oakland Inner Harbor yesterday, and there
+      she'll be stripped of everything of value and left to rot. My plan, Mike,
+      is to buy the old <i>Costa Rica</i> for a couple of thousand dollars, turn
+      Terence Reardon and his gang loose on her engines and boilers for a couple
+      of weeks and take the old coffin out for one final voyage. She can make
+      eight or nine knots in good weather, and if she's torpedoed the loss will
+      be trifling. Will you run the risk and take her out for me, Mike?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. What for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a decoy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll put a hand-picked crew aboard her, Mike; we'll arm her fore and aft
+      with six-inch guns, which we can readily get from the navy now that it's
+      the fashion to arm merchantmen; and then go cruising in the submarine
+      zone. You can pick up a few old navy men for a gun crew and train some of
+      the Costa Rica's crew, can't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If we can get somebody to give me the range and manage to get the gun
+      loaded somehow, I'll do the gun pointing; with half a chance I'll
+      guarantee results.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is exactly what I plan to give you&mdash;half a chance,&rdquo; Cappy
+      declared enthusiastically. &ldquo;The Costa Rica isn't worth two hoots in a
+      hollow, but she still looks enough like a steamer to attract submarines;
+      and during this fine summer weather we can chance a final voyage with the
+      old wreck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where do you get this 'we' stuff, Mr. Ricks?&rdquo; Mike Murphy queried
+      bluntly. &ldquo;You're not figuring on going to sea in that coffin, are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I most certainly am so figuring. I take my fun where I find it, Mike, and
+      if I'm to plan and pay for this experiment&mdash;then, by gravy, I'm going
+      to be on deck to watch it work out if it's the last act of my sinful
+      career.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if they fire on us you may be killed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll be firm' back at 'em, won't we? And if I'm killed in action, won't
+      that be a fitting finish for a Ricks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We may be afloat in an open boat for a week. I don't want you to die of
+      exposure, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forget it, Mike! I've been charged off to profit and loss for so many
+      years it makes me ill to think of them. And you remember, my dear Mike,
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   <i>&ldquo;'To every man upon this earth
+    Death cometh soon or late;
+    And how can man die better
+    Than facing fearful odds
+    For the ashes of his fathers
+    And the temples of his gods?''</i>
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Don't argue with me, Mike. My mind is quite made up. I'm going into action
+      in this war, for, as I said before, I'll try anything once&mdash;particularly
+      when it isn't very expensive and I can afford the luxury. We're going to
+      buy the <i>Costa Rica</i>, take her into the submarine zone and lose her,
+      but, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, we'll take a submarine with us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not if the German sees us first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy leaned forward and laid his index finger impressively on Michael J.
+      Murphy's knee. &ldquo;That's the only way we can hope to win,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;We
+      must make certain the submarine sees us first. Mike, a German is a rabid
+      disciple of law and order; anything out of the usual run of things upsets
+      him terribly; he never makes allowance for the unexpected or for the other
+      fellow's point of view. To be more exact, Mike, I figure that German
+      psychology is the only kind of psychology a German can understand. And to
+      tell you the truth, Mike,&rdquo; he added musingly, &ldquo;there are blamed few people
+      who can understand mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy nodded a vigorous indorsement to this last remark, and
+      Cappy went on: &ldquo;Do you think any proud and arrogant skipper of a German
+      submarine would ever suspect an American citizen of such a harebrained
+      scheme as the sending out of a rusty, creaking old rattletrap of a steamer
+      that can't get out of her own way, for the avowed purpose of destroying
+      him and his sub? No sir! His microphones will tell him, while he is still
+      totally submerged, that his approaching prey is a slow poke and cannot
+      possibly outrun him; then he'll come up, take a look and clinch his
+      conclusions&mdash;after which he will attack.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True for you sir. He'll launch his torpedo and dive before I can get a
+      shot at him or correct my range to hit him; then the torpedo will hit us
+      and we'll go up like a shower of mush&mdash;probably with half a dozen men
+      killed and nothing accomplished in the way of a return swat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was the program a few months ago,&rdquo; Cappy retorted triumphantly.
+      &ldquo;Have you noticed, however, that since merchantmen have been armed the
+      submarines are more and more prone, when attacking in daylight, to pursue
+      a steamer at a reasonable distance and rake her with shell fire? If a
+      vessel is fired on and her skipper, looking back, notes the position of
+      the submarine and realizes that he cannot possibly outrun her and that she
+      outranges him, what does he do, Mike?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He does the sensible thing. Heaves to to avoid loss of life, gets his men
+      into the boats and abandons his ship to the Hun.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely! And if the Hun thinks he is not likely to be disturbed for a
+      couple of hours, what does he do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said Murphy, &ldquo;he comes aboard, removes all the stores he can&mdash;particularly
+      engine oil&mdash;and strips the vessel of all her brass, copper and bronze
+      fittings. These metals are very scarce in Germany and they need all they
+      can get in the manufacture of munitions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Correct! And we must bear in mind, Mike, the fact that a German is
+      naturally thrifty; if he can sink a ship with shell fire or bombs set in
+      her bilges he will not waste on her a torpedo that costs from ten to
+      twenty thousand dollars. Now, will he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I wouldn't, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then my plan is absurdly simple. We merely provide a gorgeous opportunity
+      for the enemy; we inculcate in him the idea that he is about to pick a
+      soft one&mdash;then: Alas, poor Yorick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael J. Murphy rose and put on his hat. &ldquo;Where are you going, Mike?&rdquo;
+       Cappy demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm going up to the navy yard at Mare Island,&rdquo; the port captain declared,
+      &ldquo;to see if I cannot pick up a couple of six-inch rifles of the model they
+      used when I was in the navy. They're obsolete now, but I understand them&mdash;and
+      while I'm getting the guns I'll pick up four or five old navy men. Leave
+      it to me, Mr. Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll give 'em hell!&rdquo; shouted Cappy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will!&rdquo; quoth Michael J. Murphy with conviction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0060" id="link2HCH0060"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Two weeks later the old <i>Costa Rica,</i> looking somewhat youthful in a
+      new coat of black paint and with a huge American flag painted on each
+      topside, slipped quietly out of San Francisco in ballast and for the last
+      time turned her nose toward Panama. In the brief period given him in which
+      to overhaul her interior, Terence P. Reardon had accomplished wonders, and
+      an hour after Mike Murphy had taken his bearings from Point San Pedro and
+      laid out his course the chief came into the chart room to announce that
+      the old girl was doing eight knots and, barring unexpected bad weather,
+      would continue to do it without falling to pieces. &ldquo;If I could have spint
+      two thousand dollars more on her,&rdquo; Terence declared, &ldquo;I believe I could
+      get another knot out av her. Time was whin she could do sixteen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy Ricks, enjoying his afternoon cigar in the snug chart room, snorted
+      vigorously. &ldquo;I don't very often take a notion to throw my money into the
+      sea, Terence,&rdquo; he reminded his port engineer, &ldquo;but when I do get that
+      reckless I limit myself to twenty thousand dollars, and that, in round
+      figures, is what this old ruin will stand me about the time the torpedo
+      blows you up on top of the fiddle. However, that is a trifling investment
+      if we succeed in destroying a late-type German submarine with a couple of
+      hundred thousand dollars' worth of torpedoes aboard. As a sporting
+      proposition it's somewhat more expensive than golf, but the excitement
+      makes up for the added cost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The old box is alive with rats and bedbugs,&rdquo; Murphy complained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they annoy you, Mike, my boy, comfort yourself with the thought that
+      they're all going to be drowned,&rdquo; Cappy replied gayly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the old packet wallowed down the coast, the while her crew, under
+      Mike Murphy's supervision, built gun platforms fore and aft. Following
+      their completion, the two six-inch guns Cappy had succeeded in getting
+      from the navy were lifted out of the hold with the aid of the cargo winch
+      and placed in position, one forward and the other aft. Thereupon the mate
+      took charge of the <i>Costa Rica,</i> while Mike Murphy drilled his crew
+      in range finding and celerity in loading the piece. Pointing the gun was
+      entirely up to Murphy and, needless to state, the task was in capable
+      hands, as was frequently demonstrated during target practice as they
+      loafed down the coast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon arrival at Panama the <i>Costa Rica's</i> bunkers were replenished
+      and an extra supply of sacked coal was piled on deck, for with her
+      patched-up boilers the old steamer was a hog on fuel. Then the mechanics
+      and carpenters and all men not vitally needed aboard for the remainder of
+      the voyage were put ashore and furnished with transportation back to San
+      Francisco by the regular Pacific Mail liner. Next, the name on the bows of
+      the <i>Costa Rica</i> was painted out, the name boards at each end of her
+      bridge removed and the raised-letter record of her identity and home port
+      chipped off her stern; following which Cappy Ricks, Terence P. Reardon and
+      Michael J. Murphy commended their souls to their Creator, and the <i>Costa
+      Rica</i> slipped leisurely through the ditch and out into the Caribbean
+      Sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fourteen days later Mike Murphy dropped round to Cappy Ricks' cabin.
+      &ldquo;We're in the danger zone, sir,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;And from now on we're
+      liable to meet one of the larger type of U-boats that operate a couple of
+      thousand miles from the base at Zeebrugge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; Cappy replied calmly. &ldquo;Whether torpedoed or shelled, your
+      instructions are the same. Forbid the wireless operator to send out a call
+      for help, heave to immediately and get the men into the boats and away
+      from the ship. Terry Reardon will remain on duty in the engine room,
+      provided it isn't wrecked by a torpedo and the engine room crew killed;
+      you and your gun crew will remain aboard and hide in the forecastle if
+      it's action front, and in the auxiliary steering-gear house if it's action
+      rear. I will relieve the quartermaster, take charge of the wheel and
+      direct the action. If I see that there isn't going to be any action we'll
+      put on life preservers, jump overboard and be picked up by our men in the
+      boats. However, something tells me, Mike, that we're going to have a crack
+      at&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At that very instant something rapped the <i>Costa Rica</i> terrifically
+      on the starboard side amidships and tore through her with a grinding,
+      wrenching noise, followed by an explosion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's the crack you were speaking of, sir,&rdquo; Murphy yelled and started
+      for the door. Cappy Ricks grasped him frantically by the arm. &ldquo;Was that a
+      shell or a torpedo?&rdquo; he cried. His voice, thin and shrill with age,
+      quavered now with excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a shell,&rdquo; Murphy answered. &ldquo;Went through the second cabin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then that German belongs to Alden P. Ricks,&rdquo; Cappy declared, and scurried
+      for the pilot house. &ldquo;Out and into life-boats!&rdquo; he ordered the
+      quartermaster, and shoved him away from the wheel. &ldquo;Set her over to slow
+      speed ahead,&rdquo; he called to the mate, who was standing stupidly, gazing at
+      the white puffs of smoke that marked the position of the submarine two
+      miles off the starboard bow. The mate came to life, jammed over the handle
+      of the marine telegraph and, obeying an order bellowed to him by Mike
+      Murphy from the main deck, abandoned the bridge for the boat deck, there
+      to superintend the task of getting the men away from the ship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His first thrill of excitement having subsided, Cappy carefully drew the
+      little half curtains on the pilot-house window, leaving a small slit
+      through which he could observe the submarine without being observed
+      himself, for it was no part of his plan to disclose to the enemy the fact
+      that the ship was not entirely deserted&mdash;and that the submarine
+      commander should jump to the conclusion that she was deserted by all hands
+      was precisely the condition that Cappy desired to bring about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down in the engine room the indomitable Terence Reardon, with one hand on
+      the throttle and one eye on the steam gauge, put the <i>Costa Rica</i>
+      under a dead-slow bell; she seemed scarcely to move, yet she had
+      sufficient steerage way to enable Cappy to keep her pointed in the general
+      direction of the submarine, the commander of which, seeing the crew of the
+      Costa Rica scurrying for the boats, contented himself with sending over
+      half a dozen shells for the purpose of hurrying them along; then he ceased
+      firing, and when the boats pulled out from the ship in tow of a motor
+      lifeboat and his powerful glasses showed neither guns nor sign of life
+      upon the <i>Costa Rica's</i> decks, he did exactly what Cappy Ricks
+      figured he would do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He circled warily round his prize, but the absence of frantic wireless
+      calls for help lulled his suspicions, and presently he bore down upon her,
+      hove to two cable lengths abreast the wallowing hulk and watched her fully
+      five minutes for a possible trap, for the absence of any name puzzled him.
+      His suspicions subsided at length, however, the hatch in her turtle deck
+      slid back and men appeared, dragging up a small collapsible boat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly, slowly&mdash;so gradually that it seemed the old vessel was merely
+      drifting, Cappy brought the <i>Costa Rica</i> round until her bow pointed
+      toward the submarine. Mike Murphy, standing just inside the forecastle
+      door, kept his glance on the slit in the curtains on the pilot-house
+      window-and presently Cappy motioned violently to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the gun!&rdquo; ordered the captain. Followed by his gun crew he dashed out
+      of the forecastle and up the companion ladder to the forecastle head. A
+      jerk at a lever connecting a cunningly constructed set of controls, and
+      the false topsides on the forecastle head flopped to the deck, revealing
+      Mike Murphy's six-inch gun. Cappy saw him deflect the gun while another
+      man traversed it; for five seconds his eyes pressed the sight, and when
+      the gun remained motionless Cappy knew that the hull of the submarine was
+      looming fairly on the intersection of the cross wires in the sight. The
+      range was point-blank!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Quick as were Murphy and his crew, however, the gun crew of the submarine
+      was quicker. Before the <i>Costa Rica's</i> gun was properly laid, a shell
+      from the submarine flew a foot over the heads of the Murphyites and burst
+      fifty yards beyond the ship. &ldquo;Ah, missed!&rdquo; breathed Michael J. and raised
+      his hand. The gunner released the firing pin and the six-inch projectile
+      with which the gun had been loaded for two days crashed into the submarine
+      at her water line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A terrific explosion followed the shot. Cappy Ricks, gazing popeyed with
+      horror, saw the submarine disintegrate and disappear in a huge
+      water-spout; when the water settled only a vast and widening smear of
+      heavy fuel oil showed where she had been.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the forecastle head Michael Murphy yelled to Cappy Ricks. &ldquo;Well, are
+      you satisfied, sir?&rdquo; On his part, Cappy, jubilant, even in the instant
+      when he knew thirty new faces were already whining round the devil, dashed
+      out on the bridge, seized the whistle cord and swung on it. A sad,
+      nautical sob from the <i>Costa Rica's</i> siren answered him, and ten
+      seconds later Terence Reardon whistled up the bridge. Cappy let go the
+      whistle cord and took up the speaking tube. &ldquo;Hello,&rdquo; he piped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the divil do ye mean be blowin' that whistle?&rdquo; roared Terence,
+      thinking he was addressing the mate. &ldquo;Wit' me alone in the engine room how
+      d'ye expect me to keep shteam up on this ould hooker wit' you blowin' it
+      off in the whistle! Take shame to yourself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mike sunk the submarine! Mike sunk the submarine!&rdquo; Cappy shrilled over
+      and over again. &ldquo;Come up, Terence, and see the oil. See the oil, Terence,
+      see the oil! Mike sunk the submarine, Mike sunk it. Bully for Mike! Oh,
+      bully! Bully! Bully! Mike sunk it, but I schemed it. Come up, Terence, I'm
+      going to faint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then, with shrill yips of delirious delight he slid down the companion
+      to the main deck, to be gathered in Michael J. Murphy's arms and hugged
+      and passed to the gun crew, who hoisted him to their shoulders and paraded
+      joyously and blasphemously round the deck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you he wouldn't use a torpedo if he could do the trick with
+      shells,&rdquo; Gappy shouted. &ldquo;I told you he'd board us if we didn't wireless
+      for help. Ha, ha, ha! Te-hee!&rdquo; And he burst into shrill cachinnations. &ldquo;I
+      out-thought the scoundrel&mdash;goin' to get a patent on my idea&mdash;turn
+      it over to the Government&mdash;oh, Mike! Oh, Terence! Get the steward
+      back aboard. We must have some liquor. They used to serve grog in the old
+      navy after a victory, didn't they? Yi-yi-yi!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Terence P. Reardon came up and proffered his greasy paw, the while his
+      quizzical glance swept the oily sea. &ldquo;Well, sor,&rdquo; he remarked
+      philosophically, &ldquo;what wit' bein' a Christian I'm a little bit sorry the
+      Dutchman lost, but back av that again I'm a little bit glad we won.
+      Michael, do you get those blackguards o' mine down below as quick as ye
+      can, or we'll be all day gettin' shteam up agin in this ould brute av a
+      ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0061" id="link2HCH0061"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER LXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Two days passed uneventfully; then shortly before sunset on the third day
+      the look-out reported a periscope about a thousand yards distant and three
+      points off the port bow. Cappy Ricks' old knees promptly commenced to
+      knock together with excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's where Terence gets that torpedo if he doesn't come up out of the
+      engine room,&rdquo; Mike Murphy remarked laconically, and promptly whistled
+      Terence on the engine room speaking tube. &ldquo;Come up or be blown up,&rdquo; he
+      yelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Divil a fear! We're comin',&rdquo; Terence replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chief and his crew had just reached the deck when the black shining
+      turtleback of the submarine broke water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have to come to the surface to discharge a torpedo,&rdquo; Murphy
+      explained to Cappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great Godfrey! Here it comes!&rdquo; shrilled Cappy, and watched, fascinated,
+      the wake of the torpedo as it raced toward them. Just as Terence Reardon
+      and his engine crew came panting up on the bridge, the old <i>Costa Rica</i>
+      walked into it. &ldquo;Me ingine room! I knew it!&rdquo; cried Terence. Then the
+      explosion came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From where he lay on his back, half stunned, Cappy Ricks saw water and
+      wreckage fly high in the air. The <i>Costa Rica</i> shivered. So did
+      Cappy. Then the debris descended, and Cappy, choked with salt water, dimly
+      realized that Terence Reardon had him in his arms and was carrying him
+      down to the boat deck, where the motor lifeboat swung wide in the davits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, take the boss from me,&rdquo; Terence commanded, and passed Cappy to a
+      negro fireman, who carried the old man forward and laid him on a pile of
+      blankets, previously placed there for just such an emergency.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the lifeboat commenced to drop away from the towering black topside
+      and Cappy was aware of Michael J. Murphy's face&mdash;white, anxious,
+      terrified&mdash;gazing down at him from the ship's rail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm just suffering from the shock,&rdquo; Cappy called. &ldquo;Mike, you 'tend to
+      business. Remember what I told you and tell the crew to keep their mouths
+      shut. He'll do the natural thing and walk into your hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Murphy, reassured, waved his hand, and with his gun crew fled aft to the
+      little house that protected the auxiliary steering gear from the weather,
+      where they concealed themselves. In the meantime the other lifeboats had
+      been lowered away; the painter from the third boat was passed to the
+      second, which in turn passed its painter to the motor boat, and the ship's
+      company hauled clear of the shattered, sinking ship. The <i>Costa Rica</i>
+      was going down by the head, and Cappy, curious as any human being, sat up
+      to watch his decoy disappear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The submarine steamed up to them. &ldquo;What vessel is that?&rdquo; her commander
+      shouted from the conning tower in excellent English.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The American steamer <i>Soak-it-to-'em</i>, of Rotten Row,&rdquo; Cappy Ricks
+      replied, &ldquo;carrying a cargo of post holes. She has three decks and no
+      bottom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you spell the name?&rdquo; the German bawled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't hear you,&rdquo; Cappy fibbed. Then, <i>sotto voce</i>, to Mr. Reardon:
+      &ldquo;Kick her ahead, Terry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you spell the name?&rdquo; the submarine captain repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy jibbered something unintelligible, and Mr. Reardon added to the
+      puzzle by bellowing the information that the <i>p</i> was silent, as in
+      pneumonia. All this time the motor boat was putting distance between
+      itself and the submarine, and the disgusted German, as a last resort,
+      steamed away and circled round the rapidly lifting stern of the doomed <i>Costa
+      Rica</i>, confident that there he would find the record of her identity
+      and home port&mdash;information which, in his methodical German way, he
+      desired to include in his official report to the Admiralty. And while he
+      ratched slowly past, striving to find with his binoculars that which was
+      not, Michael J. Murphy and his bully boys came aft with a rush, tore aside
+      the tarpaulin that screened the stern gun and expeditiously opened fire.
+      To Cappy Ricks' horror Murphy's first shot was a clean miss, and instantly
+      the big sub started to submerge with a hoarse sucking sound that brought
+      despair to Cappy Ricks' heart. She was halfway under before Murphy's gun
+      was reloaded, but quite calmly the gun was traversed and deflected until
+      the black stern flashed across the intersection of the wires in the sight;
+      then Murphy's hand dropped and the gun roared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That'll do nicely, lads,&rdquo; he told his crew. &ldquo;Tore the stern off her that
+      time; and from this dive she'll not come up. Cappy Ricks was right. He
+      banked on human nature, and if curiosity isn't a human trait then I'm a
+      Chinaman. Overboard with you, and away before the old girl goes under or
+      we'll be sucked down in the vortex.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And overboard they went, to be picked up five minutes later by Terence and
+      Cappy in the motor lifeboat. &ldquo;You were right, Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; cried Murphy as
+      he scrambled into the boat. &ldquo;Curiosity killed the cat!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and it's blamed near killed me,&rdquo; Cappy declared feebly. &ldquo;Some of
+      that debris came down and hit me a slap on the dome&mdash;Jerusalem! There
+      goes my decoy&mdash;peace to her bones!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The <i>Costa Rica</i> dove to the Port of Missing Ships. Michael J.
+      Murphy, however, did not turn to see her disappear; he was gazing,
+      instead, at a thin red trickle that came from under Cappy's cap band and
+      was running down his wizened neck. &ldquo;Mr. Ricks,&rdquo; he said anxiously, &ldquo;you're
+      wounded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cappy rubbed the sore spot, and when he withdrew his fingers they were
+      bloody.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet!&rdquo; he gasped wonderingly. &ldquo;You're right,
+      Mike. I've been wounded in action with the enemies of my country! So help
+      me, Mike. I've actually lived to shed my blood for the Stars and Stripes,
+      like any other Ricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He gazed wonderingly at Mike Murphy. &ldquo;Now I can die happy,&rdquo; he murmured.
+      &ldquo;I've done my bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, begorra,&rdquo; rumbled Terence P. Reardon, &ldquo;an' if I have my way about it
+      ye're honorably discharged from the service this minute, Misther Ricks.
+      I'll gallivant no more wit' you in ye're ould breadbaskets av shteamers.
+      'Tis highly dangerous an' no business for a man of family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy grinned at his colleague. &ldquo;For all that, Terence,&rdquo; he
+      declared, &ldquo;you must admit that Mr. Ricks' scheme for destroying submarines
+      is the only practical one yet devised.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrue for ye, Michael. But shtill, like all fine invintions, the idjea
+      has its dhrawbacks. Now if we could only be sure av a continyous supply av
+      ould ships for use as decoys&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see a smudge of smoke,&rdquo; cried Gappy Ricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mike Murphy followed the old man's pointing finger. &ldquo;There's only one kind
+      of boat makes a smudge like that,&rdquo; he declared; &ldquo;and it's a destroyer.
+      Safe and well out of a glorious adventure. Faith, we're the lucky devils;
+      and by this and by that, I'll enlist aboard that destroyer, now that I'm
+      here on the job.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do&mdash;an' good luck to you!&rdquo; murmured Terence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amen,&rdquo; said Cappy Ricks, and fingered his trifling but honorable wound.
+      &ldquo;Gosh!&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;If Skinner could only know a thrill like this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <h3>
+      THE END.
+    </h3>
+    <div style="height: 6em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks Retires, by Peter B. Kyne
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+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/6020.txt b/6020.txt
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+++ b/6020.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,13194 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks Retires, 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 Retires
+       But that doesn't keep him from coming back stronger than ever
+
+Author: Peter B. Kyne
+
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6020]
+This file was first posted on October 19, 2002
+Last Updated: June 20, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPPY RICKS RETIRES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAPPY RICKS RETIRES
+
+_But that doesn't keep him from coming back stronger than ever_
+
+By Peter B. Kyne
+
+
+[Illustration: But, in time, Cappy would find her a rich husband]
+
+
+
+THE ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+But, in time, Cappy would find her a rich husband
+
+_(Excerpt from the log of Capt. Matt Peasley:)_ "I am alone on the
+ship--all the rest are now dead--"
+
+He always shouted when telephoning
+
+"Two million dollars!" cried J. Augustus Redell
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAPPY RICKS RETIRES
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+If you have read previous tales of the Blue Star Navigation Company and
+the various brisk individuals connected therewith, you will recall one
+Michael J. Murphy, who first came to the attention of Cappy Ricks at the
+time he, the said Murphy, was chief kicker of the barkentine _Retriever_
+under Captain Matt Peasley. Subsequently, when Matt Peasley presented
+in his person indubitable evidence of the wisdom of the old saw that
+you cannot keep a good man down, Michael J. became skipper of the
+_Retriever_. This berth he continued to occupy with pleasure and profit
+to all concerned, until a small financial tidal wave, which began with
+Matt Peasley's purchase, at a ridiculously low figure, of the Oriental
+Steamship Company's huge freighter, _Narcissus_, swept the cunning
+Matthew into the presidency of the Blue Star Navigation Company;
+whereupon Matt designed to take Murphy out of the _Retriever_ and have
+him try his hand in steam as master of the _Narcissus_.
+
+The same financial tidal wave had swept Cappy Ricks out of the
+presidency of the Blue Star Navigation Company--presumably far up the
+beach to a place in the sun, where he was to bask for the remainder
+of his old age as president emeritus of all his companies. However, if
+there was one thing about Cappy you could depend upon absolutely it
+was the consistency of his inconsistency. For, having announced his
+retirement, his very next move was to bewail his inability to retire.
+He insisted upon clinging to the business like a barnacle to a ship,
+and was always very much in evidence whenever any deal of the slightest
+importance was about to be consummated. Indeed, he was never so
+thoroughly in command as when, his first burst of enthusiasm anent the
+acquisition of the _Narcissus_ at fifty per cent. of her value having
+passed, he discovered that his son-in-law planned to order Mike
+Murphy off the quarter-deck of the _Retriever_ onto the bridge of the
+_Narcissus_, while an unknown answering to the name of Terence Reardon
+had been selected for her chief engineer.
+
+Cappy listened to Matt Peasley's announcement; then with a propitiatory
+"Ahem! Hum! Harump-h-h-h!" he hitched himself forward in his chair and
+gazed at Matt over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+"Tell me, Matt," he demanded presently, "who is this man Reardon? I do
+not recall such an engineer in our employ--and I thought I knew them
+all."
+
+"He is not in our employ, sir. He has been chief engineer of the
+_Arab_ for the past eight years, and prior to that he was chief of the
+_Narcissus_. It was Reardon who told me what ailed her. She's a hog on
+coal, and the Oriental steamship people used to nag him about the fuel
+bills. Their port engineer didn't agree with Reardon as to what was
+wrong with her, so he left. He assures me that if her condensers are
+retubed she'll burn from seven to ten tons of coal less per day."
+
+"Hum! So you're going to give him the job for telling you something our
+own port engineer would have told us after an examination."
+
+"No, sir, I'm going to give him the job because he has earned it. He
+gave me some very valuable information about the wretched condition of
+her electric-light plant and a crack, cunningly concealed, in the after
+web of her crank shaft--"
+
+"Oh, by thunder," piped Cappy, "that's worth knowing! Ship a new crank
+shaft, Matt, and save the Blue Star a salvage bill sooner or later."
+
+"All that inside information will not only save us money in the future,"
+Matt continued, "but it enabled me to drive a closer bargain
+when dealing with MacCandless, of the Oriental Steamship Company.
+Consequently Terence Reardon gets the job. He's only making a hundred
+and fifty dollars a month in the _Arab_, and as he is a rattling
+good man--I've looked him up, sir--I've promised him a hundred and
+seventy-five a month in the _Narcissus_."
+
+"Oh, you've already promised him the job, eh? Mistake, Matt, serious
+mistake. You say you looked him up, but I'll bet you a new hat there is
+one thing about him that you failed to investigate, and that is: What
+kind of Irish is he?"
+
+"Why, regular Irish, of course--mighty good Irish, I should say. Keen,
+observing, not too talkative, a hard worker, temperate in his habits and
+a crackajack engineer to boot."
+
+Cappy settled back wearily in his chair and favored his youthful partner
+with a glance of tolerant amusement.
+
+"Matt," he announced, "those are the qualifications we look for in an
+engineer, and it's been my experience that the Irish and the Scotch
+make the best marine engineers in the world. But when you've been in the
+shipping game as long as I have, young man, you'll know better than
+to pick two Irishmen as departmental chiefs in the same ship! I did
+it--once. There was a red-headed scoundrel named Dennis O'Leary who went
+from A.B. to master in the _Florence Ricks_. That fellow was a bulldog.
+He made up his mind he was going to be master of the _Florence_ and
+I couldn't stop him. Good man--damned good! And there was a black
+Irishman, John Rooney, in the _Amelia Ricks_. Had ambitions just like
+O'Leary. He went from oiler to first assistant in the _Amelia_.
+Fine man--damned fine! So fine, in fact, that when the chief of the
+_Florence_ died I shifted Rooney to her immediately. And what was the
+result? Why, riot, of course. Matt, the Irish will fight anybody and
+anything, but they'll fight quicker, with less excuse and greater
+delight, among themselves, than any other nationality! The _Florence
+Ricks_ carried a million feet of lumber, but she wasn't big enough for
+Rooney and O'Leary, so I fired them both, not being desirous of playing
+favorites. Naturally, each blamed the other for the loss of his job, and
+without a word having been spoken they went out on the dock and fought
+the bloodiest draw I have ever seen on the San Francisco waterfront.
+After they had been patched up at the Harbor Hospital, both came and
+cussed me and told me I was an ingrate, so I hired them both back again,
+put them in different ships, slipped each of them a good, cheerful
+Russian Finn, and saved funeral expenses. That's what I got, Matt, for
+not asking those two what kind of Irish they were. Now, then, sonny,
+once more. What kind of Irish is Terence Rearden?"
+
+"Why, I don't know, I tell you. He's just Irish."
+
+Cappy lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if praying for the great gift of
+patience.
+
+"Listen to the boy," he demanded of an imaginary bystander. "He doesn't
+know! Well, stick your head down over his engine-room grating some day,
+sing The Boyne Wather--and find out! Now, then, do you happen to know
+what kind of Irish Mike Murphy is? You ought to. You were shipmates with
+him in the _Retriever_ long enough."
+
+"Oh, Mike's from Galway. He goes to mass on Sunday when he can."
+
+"Hum! If he's from Galway, where did he leave his brogue? He runs to the
+broad _a_ like an Englishman."
+
+"That's easily explained. Mike left his brogue in Galway. He came to
+this country when he was six years old and was raised in Boston. That's
+where he picked up his broad _a_."
+
+"That doesn't help a bit, Matt. He's Irish just the same, and what a
+Yankee like you don't know about the Irish would fill a book. You
+know, Matt, there are a few rare white men that can handle Chinamen
+successfully; now and then you'll run across one that can handle
+niggers; but I have never yet met anybody who could figure the mental
+angles of the Irish except an Irishman. There's something in an Irishman
+that drives him into the bandwagon. He's got to be the boss, and if he
+can't be the boss he'll sit round and criticize. But if I want a man to
+handle Chinamen, or niggers, or Japs, or Bulgarians I'll advertise for
+an Irishman and take the first one that shows up. A young man like you,
+Matt, shouldn't monkey with these people. They're a wonderful race and
+very much misunderstood, and if you don't start 'em right on the job
+you'll always be in trouble. Now, Matt, I've always done the hiring and
+firing for the Blue Star Navigation Company, and as a result I've
+had blamed little of it to do, considering the size of our fleet;
+consequently I'll just give these two Harps the Double-O. Have Murphy
+and Reardon at the office at nine o'clock to-morrow morning and I'll
+read them the riot act before turning them to."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Cappy Ricks was at his office at eight-fifty the following morning.
+At eight-fifty-two Mr. Terence Reardon, plainly uncomfortable in a
+ready-made blue-serge Sunday suit purchased on the Embarcadero for
+twenty-five dollars, came into the office. He was wearing a celluloid
+collar, and a quite noticeable rattle as he shook hands with Cappy
+Ricks betrayed the fact that he also was wearing celluloid cuffs; for,
+notwithstanding the fact that he bathed twice a day, Mr. Reardon's
+Hibernian hide contained much of perspiration, coal dust, metal grit and
+lubricating oil, and such substances can always be washed off celluloid
+collars and cuffs. To his credit be it known that Terence Reardon knew
+his haberdashery was not _au fait_, for his wife never failed to remind
+him of it; but unfortunately he was the possessor of a pair of grimy
+hands that nothing on earth could ever make clean, and even when he
+washed them in benzine they always left black thumb prints on a linen
+collar during the process of adjustment. He had long since surrendered
+to his fate.
+
+At eight-fifty-four Mike Murphy arrived. Murphy was edging up into the
+forties, but still he was young enough at heart to take a keen interest
+in his personal appearance, and a tailor who belonged to Michael's
+council of the Knights of Columbus had decked him out in a suit of
+English tweeds of the latest cut and in most excellent taste.
+
+"Good morning, captain," Cappy Ricks greeted him. "Ahead of time as
+usual. Meet Mr. Terence Reardon, late chief of the _Arab_. He is to be a
+shipmate of yours--chief of the _Narcissus_, you know.
+
+"Mr. Reardon, shake hands with Captain Mike Murphy. Captain Murphy has
+been in our employ a number of years as master of sail. The _Narcissus_
+will be his first command in steam."
+
+"Terence Reardon, eh?" echoed Mike Murphy pleasantly. "That sounds like
+a good name. Glad to meet you, chief. What part of the old country are
+you from? The West?"
+
+The wish was father to the thought, since Mike was from the West
+himself.
+
+"I'm from the Nort'--from Belfast," Mr. Reardon replied in a deep Kerry
+brogue, and extended a grimy paw upon the finger of which Mike Murphy
+observed a gold ring that proclaimed Mr. Terence Reardon--an Irishman,
+presumably a Catholic--one who had risen to the third degree in
+Freemasonry.
+
+Cappy Ricks saw that ring also, and started visibly. A Knight Templar
+himself, Terence Reardon was the last person on earth in whom he
+expected to find a brother Mason. He glanced at Mike Murphy and saw that
+the skipper was looking, not at Mr. Reardon, but at the Masonic emblem.
+
+"Sit down, chief," Cappy hastened to interrupt. "Have a chair, captain.
+Mr. Reardon, my son-in-law, Captain Peasley here, tells me you were
+chief of the _Narcissus_ when she was on the China run for the Oriental
+Steamship Company."
+
+Mr. Reardon sat down heavily, set his derby hat on the floor beside him
+and replied briefly: "I was."
+
+Captain Murphy excused himself and drew Matt Peasley out of the room.
+"God knows," he whispered hoarsely, "religion should never enter into
+the working of a ship, and I suppose I'll have to get along with that
+fellow; but did you mark the Masonic ring on the paw of the Far-Down?
+And on the right hand, too! The jackass don't know enough to wear it on
+his left hand."
+
+"Why, what's wrong about being a Mason?" Matt protested. "Cappy's a
+Mason and so am I."
+
+"Nothing wrong about it--with you and Cappy Ricks. That's your
+privilege. You're Protestants."
+
+"Well, maybe the chief's a Protestant, too," Matt suggested, but Mike
+Murphy silenced him with a sardonic smile.
+
+"With that name?" he queried, and laughed the brief, mirthless laugh of
+the man who knows. "And he says he's from Belfast! Man, I could cut that
+Kerry brogue with a belaying pin."
+
+"Why, Mike," Matt interrupted, "I never before suspected you were
+intolerant of a shipmate's private convictions. I must say this attitude
+of yours is disturbing."
+
+"Why, I'm not a bigot," Murphy protested virtuously. "Who told you
+that?"
+
+"Why, you're a Catholic, and you resent Reardon because he's a
+Protestant."
+
+"Not a bit of it. You're a Protestant, and don't I love you like a
+brother?"
+
+Matt thought he saw the light. "Oh, I see," he replied. "It's because
+Reardon is an Irish Protestant."
+
+"Almost--but not quite. God knows I hate the Orangemen for what they did
+to me and mine, but at least they've been Protestant since the time of
+Henry VIII. But the lad inside there has no business to be a Protestant.
+The Lord intended him for a Catholic--and he knows it. He's a renegade.
+I don't blame you for being a Protestant, Matt. It's none of my
+business."
+
+Matt Peasley had plumbed the mystery at last. He had been reading a
+good deal in the daily papers about Home Rule for Ireland, the Irish
+Nationalists, the Ulster Volunteers, the Unionists, and so on, and in
+a vague way he had always understood that religious differences were at
+the bottom of it all. He realized now that it was something deeper than
+that--a relic of injustice and oppression; a hostility that had come to
+Mike Murphy as a heritage from his forbears--something he had imbibed at
+his mother's breast and was, for purposes of battle, a more vital issue
+than the interminable argument about the only safe road to heaven.
+
+"I see," Matt murmured. "Reardon, being Irish, has violated the national
+code of the Irish--"
+
+"You've said it, Matt. They're Tories at heart, every mother's son of
+them."
+
+"What do you mean--Tories?"
+
+"That they're for England, of course."
+
+"Well, I don't blame them. So am I. Aren't you, Mike?"
+
+"May God forgive you," Mike Murphy answered piously. "I am not. I'm for
+their enemies. I'm for anything that's against England. Ireland is not a
+colony. She's a nation. Man, man, you don't understand. Only an Irishman
+can, and he gets it at his mother's or his grandmother's knee--the
+word-of-mouth history of his people, the history that isn't in the
+books! Do you think I can forget? Do you think I want to forget?"
+
+"No," Matt Peasley replied quietly; "I think you'll have to forget--in
+so far as Terence Reardon is concerned. This is the land of the free and
+the home of the brave, and even when you're outside the three-mile limit
+I want you to remember, Mike, that the good ship _Narcissus_ is under
+the American flag. The _Narcissus_ needs all her space for cargo, Mike.
+There is no room aboard her for a feud. Don't ever poke your nose
+into Terence Reardon's engine-room except on his invitation or for the
+purpose of locating a leak. Treat him with courtesy and do not discuss
+politics or religion when you meet him at table, which will be about the
+only opportunity you two will have to discuss anything; and if Reardon
+wants to talk religion or politics you change your feeding time and
+avoid meeting him. I've taken you out of the old _Retriever,_ Mike,
+where you've been earning a hundred and twenty-five dollars a month, to
+put you in the _Narcissus_ at two hundred and fifty. That is conclusive
+evidence that I'm for you. But Terence Reardon is a crackajack chief
+engineer, and I want you to remember that the Blue Star Navigation
+Company needs him in its business quite as much as it needs Michael J.
+Murphy, and if you two get scrapping I'm not going to take the trouble
+to investigate and place the blame. I'll just call you both up on the
+carpet and make you draw straws to see who quits."
+
+"Fair enough," replied the honest Murphy. "If I can't be good I'll be as
+good as I can."
+
+At that very instant Cappy Ricks was just discovering what kind of Irish
+Mr. Terence Reardon was.
+
+The most innocent remark brought him the information he sought.
+
+"Captain Murphy, whom you have just met, is to be master of the
+_Narcissus,_ chief," he explained. "He's a splendid fellow personally
+and a most capable navigator, and like you he's Irish. I'm sure you'll
+get along famously together."
+
+Cappy tried to smile away his apprehension, for a still small voice
+whispered to him and questioned the right of Terence Reardon to call him
+brother.
+
+Mr. Reardon's sole reply to this optimistic prophecy was a noncommittal
+grunt, accompanied by a slight outthrust and uplift of the chin, a
+pursing of the lips and the ghost of a sardonic little smile. Only
+an Irishman can get the right tempo to that grunt--and the tempo is
+everything. In the case of Terence Reardon it said distinctly: "I
+hope you're right, sir, but privately I have my doubts." However, not
+satisfied with pantomime, Mr. Reardon went a trifle farther--for reasons
+best known to himself. He laved the corner of his mouth with the tip
+of a tobacco-stained tongue and said presently: "I can't say, Misther
+Ricks, that I quite like the cut av that fella's jib."
+
+That was the Irish of it. A representative of any other race on earth
+would have employed the third person singular when referring to the
+absent Murphy; only an Irishman would have said "that fella," and only
+a certain kind of Irishman could have managed to inject into such simple
+words such a note of scorn supernal. Cappy Ricks got the message--just
+like that.
+
+"Then stay off his bridge, Reardon," he warned the chief. "Your job is
+in the engine-room, so even if you and Captain Murphy do not like each
+other, there will be no excuse for friction. The only communication you
+need have with him is through the engine-room telegraph."
+
+"Then, sor," Terence Reardon replied respectfully, "I'll take it kindly
+av you to tell him to keep out av me engine-room. I'll have no skipper
+buttin' in on me, tellin' me how to run me engines an' askin' me why
+in this an' that I don't go aisy on the coal. Faith, I've had thim do
+it--the wanst--an' the wanst only. Begorra, I'd have brained thim wit' a
+monkey wrench if they tried it a second time."
+
+"On the other hand," Cappy remarked, "I've had to fire more than one
+chief engineer who couldn't cure himself of a habit of coming up on the
+bridge when the vessel got to port--to tell the skipper how to berth
+his ship against a strong flood tide. I suppose that while we have
+steamships the skippers will always wonder how the vessel can possibly
+make steerage way, considering the chief engineers, while the chiefs
+will never cease marvelling that such fine ships should be entrusted to
+a lot of Johnny Know-Nothings. However, Reardon, I might as well tell
+you that the Blue Star Navigation Company plays no favorites. When the
+chief and the skipper begin to interfere with the dividends, they look
+overside some bright day and see Alden P. Ricks waiting for them on the
+cap of the wharf. And when the ship is alongside, the said Ricks comes
+aboard with five bones in his pocket, and the said skipper and the said
+chief are invited into the dining saloon to roll the said bones--one
+flop and high man out. Yes, sir. Out! Out of the ship and out of the
+Blue Star employ--for ever."
+
+"I hear you, sor. I hearrd you the first time," Terence Reardon replied
+complacently and reached for his pipe. "All I ask from you is a square
+deal. I'll have it from the captain wit'out the askin'."
+
+Thus the Reardon breathing his defiance.
+
+"I'm glad we understand each other, chief. Just avoid arguments,
+political or religious, and treat the skipper with courtesy. Then you'll
+get along all right. Now with reference to your salary. The union scale
+is one hundred and fifty dollars a month--"
+
+"Beggin' yer pardon for the intherruption, sor, but the young man
+promised me a hundhred an' siventy-five."
+
+"That was before the Blue Star Navigation Company took over the young
+man and his ship _Narcissus._ Hereafter you'll deal with the old man in
+such matters. I'm going to give you two hundred a month, Reardon, and
+you are to keep the _Narcissus_ out of the shop. Hear me, chief--out of
+the shop."
+
+"No man can ordher me to do me djooty," said Terence Reardon simply.
+"Tell the fine gintleman on the bridge to keep her out av the kelp, an'
+faith, she'll shtay out av the shop. Thank you kindly, sor. When do I go
+to wurrk?"
+
+"Your pay started this morning. The _Narcissus_ goes on Christy's ways
+in Oakland Harbor at the tip of the flood this afternoon. Get on the
+ship and stay on her. It's a day-and-night rush job to get her in
+commission, and you'll be paid time and a half while she's repairing.
+Good-day and good luck to you, chief. Come in and see me whenever you
+get to port." And Cappy Ricks, most democratic of men, extended his hand
+to his newest employee. Terence Reardon took it in his huge paw that
+would never be clean any more, and held it for a moment, the while he
+looked fearlessly into Cappy's eyes.
+
+"'Tis a proud man I am to wurrk for you, sor," he said simply. "Tip-top
+serrvice for tip-top pay, an' by the Great Gun av Athlone, you'll get it
+from me, sor. If ever the ship is lost 'twill be no fault of mine."
+
+Mr. Reardon's manner, as he thus calmly exculpated himself from the
+penalty for future disaster, indicated quite clearly that Cappy Ricks,
+in such a contingency, might look to the man higher up--on the bridge,
+for instance.
+
+When Terence Reardon had departed Cappy Ricks called Mike Murphy into
+the room.
+
+"Now, captain," he began, "there are a few things I want to tell you.
+This man Reardon is a fine, loyal fellow, but he's touchy--"
+
+"I know all about him," Murphy interrupted with a slight emphasis on the
+pronoun. Unlike Mr. Reardon he employed the third person singular and
+did not say "that fella," for he had been raised in the United States of
+America.
+
+"I have already given the captain his instructions," Matt Peasley
+announced. "He understands the situation perfectly and will conduct
+himself accordingly."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+A small army of men swarmed over, under and through the huge _Narcissus_
+for the next three weeks, and the hearts of Cappy Ricks and Matt Peasley
+were like to burst with pride as they stood on the bridge with Captain
+Mike Murphy, while he ran the vessel over the measured course to test
+her speed, and swung her in the bay while adjusting her compass. She
+was as beautiful as money and paint could make her, and when Terence
+Reardon, in calm disregard of orders, came up on the bridge to announce
+his unbounded faith in the rejuvenated condensers and to predict a
+modest coal bill for the future, Mike Murphy so far forgot himself as
+to order the steward to bring up a bottle of something and begged
+Mr. Reardon to join him in three fingers of nepenthe to celebrate the
+occasion.
+
+"T'ank you, sor, but I never dhrink--on djooty," Mr. Reardon retorted
+with chill politeness, "nor," he added, "wit' me immejiate superiors."
+
+A superficial analysis of this remark will convince the most sceptical
+that Mr. Reardon, with true Hibernian adroitness, had managed to convey
+an insult without seeming to convey it.
+
+"Isn't that a pity!" the skipper replied. "We'll excuse you to attend
+to your duty, Mr. Reardon;" and he bowed the chief toward the companion
+leading to the boat deck. The latter departed, furious, with an
+uncomfortable feeling of having been out-generaled; and once a good
+Irishman and true has undergone that humiliation it is a safe bet that
+the Dove of Peace has lost her tail feathers.
+
+"That's an unmannerly chief engineer," Mike Murphy announced blandly,
+"but for all that he's not without his good points. He'll not waste
+money in his department."
+
+"A virtue which I trust you will imitate in yours, captain," Cappy Ricks
+snapped dryly. "Is Reardon working short-handed?"
+
+"Only while we're loading, when he'll need just enough men to keep steam
+up in the winches. When we go to sea, however, he'll have a full crew,
+but the fun of it is they'll be non-union men with the exception of
+the engineers and officers. The engineers will all belong to the Marine
+Engineers' Association and the mates to Harbor 15, Masters' and Pilots'
+Association."
+
+"He'll do nothing of the sort," Matt Peasley declared quietly. "We have
+union crews in all our other steamers, and the unions will declare a
+strike on us if we put non-union men in the _Narcissus_."
+
+"Of course--if they find out. But they'll not. Besides, we're going to
+the Atlantic Coast, so why should we bring a high-priced crew into a
+low-priced market, Mr. Ricks? Leave it to me, sir. I'll load the ship
+with longshoremen entirely, and we'll sail with the crew of that German
+liner that came a few days ago to intern in Richardson's Bay until the
+European war is over."
+
+"I'm not partial to the German cause," Matt Peasley announced. "So I'll
+just veto that plan right now, Mike."
+
+"Matt, we're neutral," Cappy declared.
+
+"And it pays to ship those Germans, Matt," Murphy continued. "I confess
+I'm for the Germans, although not to such an extent that I'd go round
+offering them jobs just because they _are_ Germans. But the minute I
+heard about that interned boat I said to myself: 'Now, here's a chance
+to save the _Narcissus_ some money. The crew of that liner will all be
+discharged now that she is interned. However, the local unions will not
+admit them to membership and they cannot work on any Pacific Coast
+boat unless they hold union cards. Consequently they must seek other
+occupations, and as the chances are these fellows do not speak English,
+they're up against it. Also, they are foreigners who have paid no head
+tax when coming into the country, because they are seamen. They have
+the right to land and stay ashore three months, if they state that it is
+their intention to ship out again within that period; but if they do not
+so ship, then the immigration authorities may deport them as paupers
+or for failure to pay the head tax; and in that event they will all be
+returned to the vessel that brought them here, and the owners of the
+vessel will be forced to intern them and care for them.' Under the
+circumstances, therefore, I concluded they would jump at a job in an
+American vessel, for the reason that under the American flag they would
+be reasonably safe; and even if the _Narcissus_ should be searched by
+a British cruiser, she would not dare take these Germans off her.
+Remember, we had a war with England once for boarding our ships and
+removing seamen!"
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet," said Cappy Ricks, "there's something in
+that, Matt."
+
+"There's a splendid saving in the pay roll, let me tell you," the proud
+Murphy continued. "I took the matter up at once with the German skipper
+and he fixed it for me, and mighty glad he was to get his countrymen off
+his hands. We get all that liner's coal passers, oilers, firemen, six
+deckhands and four quartermasters at the scale of wages prevailing in
+Hamburg. I know what it is in marks, but I haven't figured it out in
+dollars and cents, although whatever it is it's a scandal! It almost
+cuts our pay roll in half."
+
+"Do you speak German, captain?" Cappy queried excitedly.
+
+"I do not, sir--more's the pity. But the four quartermasters speak fair
+English, and I have engaged two good German-American mates who speak
+German. Reardon has shipped German-American engineers and some of his
+coal passers and firemen speak fair English. I've got two Native Son
+Chinamen in the galley and a Cockney steward. We'll get along."
+
+"And a rattling fine idea, too," Cappy Ricks declared warmly. "Mike, my
+boy, you're a wonder. That's the spirit. Always keep down the overhead,
+Matt. That's what eats up the dividends."
+
+"Well, I wouldn't agree to it if the _Narcissus_ wasn't going to be
+engaged in neutral trade, or if she was carrying munitions of war to the
+Allies," Matt declared. "I'd be afraid some of Mike's Germans might blow
+up the ship."
+
+"Believe me," quoth Michael J. Murphy, "if she was engaged in freighting
+munitions to England, it'd be a smart German that would get a chance to
+blow her up. I think I'd scuttle her myself first."
+
+"Well, Mike, if your courage failed you," Cappy Ricks replied
+laughingly, "I think we could safely leave the job to Terence Reardon."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+On that first voyage the _Narcissus_ carried general cargo to northern
+ports on the West Coast. Then she dropped down to a nitrate port and
+loaded nitrate for New York, and about the time she passed through the
+Panama Canal the Blue Star Navigation Company wired its New York agent
+to provide some neutral business for her next voyage. Freights were
+soaring by this time, due to the scarcity of the foreign bottoms which
+formerly had carried Uncle Sam's goods to market, and Cappy Ricks and
+Matt Peasley knew the rates would increase from day to day, and that
+in consequence their New York agents would experience not the slightest
+difficulty in placing her--hence they delayed as long as they could
+placing her on the market.
+
+On the other hand, the New York agents, realizing that higher freight
+rates meant a correspondingly higher commission for them on the charter,
+held off until the _Narcissus_ had almost finished discharging at
+Hoboken before they closed with a fine old New York importing and
+exporting house for a cargo of soft coal from Norfolk, Virginia, to
+Manila, or Batavia. The charterers were undecided which of these two
+cities would be the port of discharge, and stipulated that the vessel
+was to call at Pernambuco, Brazil, for orders. The New York agents
+marvelled at this for--to them--very obvious reasons; but inasmuch as
+the charterers had offered a whopping freight rate and declined to do
+business on any other basis, and since further the agent concluded it
+was no part of his office to question the motives of a house that never
+before had been subjected to suspicion, he concluded to protect himself
+by leaving the decision to the owners of the _Narcissus_. Accordingly he
+wired them as follows:
+
+"Blue Star Navigation Company,
+
+"258 California St., San Francisco, Cal.
+
+"Have offer _Narcissus_, coal Norfolk Batavia or Manila, charterers
+undecided, Pernambuco for orders, ten dollars per ton. Shall we close?
+Answer.
+
+"SEABORN"
+
+2 boards, 1" x 8" and up, and too great a percentage of 4" x 6"-20' No.
+1 clear. And there were mighty few clear twenty-foot logs coming into
+the boom these days.
+
+"Well, will a cat eat liver?" declared Cappy Ricks. "I should say we do
+accept. Why, man, she'll make forty thousand dollars on the voyage,
+and whether she goes to Batavia or Manila, we're certain to get a cargo
+back."
+
+"All right, I'll wire acceptance," Skinner replied, and paused long
+enough to make a notation on the message: "O.K.--Ricks." Mr. Skinner
+meant nothing in particular by that. He was a model of efficiency, and
+that was his little way of placing the responsibility for the decision
+in the event that the wisdom of said decision should, at some future
+time, be questioned. Mr. Skinner never took unnecessary chances. He
+always played a safe game.
+
+It is necessary to state here also that Matt Peasley was not in the
+office when that telegram arrived from Seaborn & Company. If he had been
+this story would never have been written. He was down at Hunter's Point
+drydock, superintending the repairs to the steam schooner Amelia Ricks,
+which recently on a voyage to Seattle had essayed the overland route via
+Duxbury Reef. When Matt reached home that night he found his ingenious
+father-in-law fairly purring with contentment.
+
+"Well, Matt, old horse," Cappy piped, "I've chartered the Narcissus.
+Norfolk to Batavia or Manila with coal. Got a glorious price--ten
+dollars a ton. That's what we get for holding off until the last
+minute."
+
+"That's encouraging," Matt answered pleasantly, and asked no further
+questions. He was obsessed with the engines of the _Amelia Ricks_. It
+was going to cost a lot of money to put them in condition again, and
+he remarked as much to Cappy. Thus it happened that they entered into
+a discussion of other matters, and the good ship _Narcissus_, having
+finished discharging her cargo of nitrate, dropped down to Norfolk,
+where Captain Michael J. Murphy proceeded to let a stream of coal into
+her at a rate that promised to load her fully in less than four days.
+
+It is worthy of remark, at this juncture, that Mike Murphy and
+Terence Reardon had, by this time, cast aside all appearance of
+even shirt-sleeve diplomacy. Diplomatic relations had, in fact, been
+completely severed. Crossing the Gulf Stream, Murphy had called the
+engine-room on the speaking-tube and politely queried if Mr. Reardon
+didn't think he could get a few more revolutions out of her. To this Mr.
+Reardon had replied passionately that if such a thing were possible he
+would have done it long ago without waiting to be told. He desired to
+inform Captain Murphy that he knew his business; whereupon Murphy
+had replied that he never would have guessed Mr. Reardon was that
+intelligent, judging by the face of him. In disgust Mr. Reardon had
+replied: "Aw, go to--" and then tried to close the speaking-tube before
+the captain would have the opportunity to retort. However, Michael J.
+knew his own mind, and, like all the Irish, was a marvel at repartee.
+Quick as was Terence Reardon, therefore, Michael J. Murphy was quicker.
+Perhaps all of his message had not been delivered before Reardon closed
+the tube, but the chief got enough of it for all practical purposes.
+
+He caught one word--"Renegade"; a word so terrible that it left the
+chief engineer speechless with fury, and before he could call the
+skipper a baboon, the golden opportunity was gone. He closed the tube
+with a sigh.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+While the _Narcissus_ was loading, the Fates were keeping in reserve for
+Cappy Ricks, Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner a blow that was to stun them
+when it fell. About the time the _Narcissus_, fully loaded, was snoring
+out to sea past Old Point Comfort, Matt Peasley came across Seaborn &
+Company's telegram in the unanswered-correspondence tray on his desk.
+Five times he read it; and then, in the language of the poet, hell began
+to pop!
+
+Cappy Ricks came out of a gentle doze to find his big son-in-law waving
+the telegram under his nose.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me?" Matt Peasley bawled, for all the world as if
+Cappy was a very stupid mate and all the canvas had just been blown out
+of the bolt-ropes.
+
+"Why didn't you ask me, you big stiff?" shrilled Cappy. He didn't know
+what was coming, but instinct told him it was awful, so he resolved
+instantly to meet it with a brave front. "Don't you yell at me, young
+feller. Now then, what do you want to find out?"
+
+"Why didn't you tell me the _Narcissus_ was to drop in at Pernambuco for
+orders?" roared Matt wrathfully.
+
+Cappy pursed his lips and calmly rang for Mr. Skinner. He eyed the
+general manager over the rims of his spectacles for fully thirty
+seconds. Then:
+
+"Skinner, what the devil's wrong with you of late? It's getting so I
+can't trust you to do anything any more. Tut, tut! Not a peep out of
+you, sir. Now then, answer me: Why didn't you tell me, Skinner, that the
+_Narcissus_ was to call in at Pernambuco for orders?"
+
+"I read you the telegram, sir," Mr. Skinner replied coldly, and pointed
+to the notation: "O.K.--Ricks," the badge of his infernal efficiency. "I
+read that telegram to you, sir," he repeated, "and asked you if I should
+close. You said to close. I closed. That's all I know about it. You and
+Matt are in charge of the shipping and I decline to be dragged into any
+disputes originating in your department. All I have to say is that if
+you two can't run the shipping end and run it right, just turn it over
+to me and I'll run it--right!"
+
+Completely vindicated, Mr. Skinner struck a distinctly defiant attitude
+and awaited the next move on the part of Cappy. The latter,
+thoroughly crushed--for he knew the devilish Skinner never made any
+mistakes--looked up at his son-in-law.
+
+"Well," he demanded, "what's your grouch against Pernambuco?"
+
+"Forgive me for bawling you out that way," Matt replied, "but I guess
+you'd bawl, too, if somebody who should have known better had placed a
+fine ship in jeopardy for you. It just breaks me all up to think you
+may have lost my steamer _Narcissus_--the first steamer I ever owned
+too--and to be lost on her second voyage under the Blue Star flag--"
+
+"Our _Narcissus_, if you please," Cappy shrilled. "You gibbering
+jackdaw! Out with it! Where do you get that stuff--lose your steamer on
+her second voyage! Why, she's snug in Norfolk this minute."
+
+"If she only is," Matt almost wailed, "she'll never be permitted to
+clear with that German crew aboard. Pernambuco for orders! Suffering
+sailor! And you, of all men, to put over a charter like that!
+Pernambuco! Pernambuco! Pernambuco--for--orders! Do you get it?"
+
+"No, I don't. It's over my head and into the bleachers."
+
+"I must say, my dear Matt," Mr. Skinner struck in blandly, "that I also
+fail to apprehend."
+
+"Didn't you two ever go to school?" Matt raved. "Didn't you ever study
+geography? Why under the canopy should we waste our time and burn up our
+good coal steaming to Pernambuco, Brazil, South America, for orders?
+Let me put it to you two in words of one syllable: The _Narcissus_ is
+chartered to carry a cargo of coal from Norfolk, Virginia, to Batavia
+or Manila. At the time of charter--and sailing--the charterers are
+undecided which port she is to discharge at, so they ask us to step
+over to Pernambuco and find out. Now, whether the vessel discharges at
+Batavia or Manila, her course in the Atlantic Ocean while en route to
+either port is identical! She passes round the Cape of Good Hope, which
+is at the extreme south end of Africa. If her course, on the contrary,
+was round Cape Horn or through the Straits of Magellan there might be
+some sense in sending her over to the east coast of South America
+for orders. But whether she is ordered to Manila or Batavia, the fact
+remains that she must put in to Durban, South Africa, for fuel to
+continue her voyage; so why in the name of the Flying Dutchman
+couldn't the charterers cable the orders to Mike Murphy at Durban?
+The _Narcissus_ is worth a thousand dollars a day, so you waste a few
+thousand dollars worth of her time, at the very least, sending her to
+Pernambuco when a ten-dollar cablegram to Durban would have done the
+business! I suppose all you two brilliant shipping men could see was a
+ten-dollar-a-ton freight rate. Eh? You--landlubbers! A-a-g-r-r-h! I was
+never so angry since the day I was born."
+
+While Matt ranted on, Mr. Skinner's classic features had been slowly
+taking on the general color tones of a ripe old Edam cheese, while at
+the conclusion of Matt's oration Cappy Ricks' eyes were sticking out
+like twin semaphores. He clasped his hands.
+
+"By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!" he murmured in an awed voice. "There's
+a nigger in the woodpile."
+
+"I very greatly fear," Mr. Skinner chattered, "that you are mistaken,
+Mr. Ricks. Something tells me it's a German!"
+
+"Well, well, well!" Matt Peasley sneered. "Skinner, take the head of the
+class. Really, I believe I begin to pick up signs of human intelligence
+in this sea of maritime ignorance."
+
+"Oh, Matt, quit your jawing and break the news to me quickly," Cappy
+pleaded.
+
+"Haven't you been reading the papers, sir? Australian and Japanese
+warships have been hunting for the German Pacific fleet for the past few
+weeks, and the Germans have been on the dodge. Therefore, they've
+been burning coal. They are only allowed to remain in a neutral port
+twenty-four hours, and can only take on sufficient coal and stores to
+enable them to reach the nearest German port. Consequently, since they
+have been afraid to enter a neutral port, for fear of giving away their
+position, it follows that they've had to stay at sea--and naturally they
+have run short of coal. A few steamers have cleared from San Francisco
+with coal, ostensibly for discharge at Chilean or Mexican ports, but in
+reality for delivery to the German fleet at sea, but even with these few
+deliveries, there is a coal famine. And now that the Pacific is getting
+too hot for it, the general impression is that the German fleet will try
+to get through the Straits of Magellan, for, once in the Atlantic, coal
+will be easier to get. More ships, you know; more ship-owners willing
+to take a chance for wartime profits--and they say Brazil is rather
+friendly to the German cause. We will assume, therefore, that the German
+secret agents in this country realize it is inevitable that Von Spee's
+fleet must be forced into the Atlantic; hence, in anticipation of that
+extremity, they are arranging for the delivery of coal to those harassed
+cruisers. The agent in Pernambuco is probably in constant communication
+with the fleet by wireless; the fleet will probably come ranging up
+the coast of South America, destroying British commerce, or some of the
+ships may cross over to the Indian Ocean and join the _Emden_,
+raiding in those waters. So the German secret agents charter our huge
+_Narcissus_, load her with ten thousand tons of coal--"
+
+Matt Peasley paused and bent a beetling glance, first at Cappy Ricks and
+then at Skinner.
+
+"Was she to carry soft coal or anthracite?" he demanded.
+
+"I don't know," Mr. Skinner quavered.
+
+"Search me!" Cappy Ricks piped up sourly.
+
+"I thought so. For the sake of argument we'll assume it's soft coal,
+because anthracite has not as yet become popular as steamship fuel.
+Well, we will assume our vessel gets to Pernambuco. If, in the meantime,
+the German admiral wirelesses his Pernambuco agent, 'Send a jag of coal
+into the Indian Ocean,' to the Indian Ocean goes the _Narcissus_, and
+presently she finds a German warship or two or three ranging along in
+her course. They pick her up, help themselves to her coal, give Mike
+Murphy a certificate of confiscation for her cargo, to be handed to the
+owners, who in this case will be good, loyal sons of the Fatherland and
+offer no objection--"
+
+"I see," Cappy Ricks interrupted. "And if, on the other hand, the German
+admiral says, 'Send a jag of coal to meet us in a certain latitude and
+longitude off the River Plate,' and Mike Murphy objects, that German
+crew on our _Narcissus_ will just naturally lock Mike Murphy up in his
+cabin and take the vessel away from him! When they're through with her
+they'll give her back--"
+
+"I'm not so certain they'll have to lock him up in his cabin in order
+to get the ship," Mr. Skinner struck in, a note of alarm in his voice.
+"Mike Murphy is so pro-German--"
+
+"Ow! Wow! That hurts," Cappy wailed. "So he is! I never thought of that.
+And now that you speak of it, I recall it was his idea, getting that
+crew of Germans aboard! He said it would cut down expenses. Holy
+mackerel, Matt; do you think it was a frameup?"
+
+"Certainly I do, but--Mike Murphy wasn't in on it. You can bank on that.
+No piratical foreigner will ever climb up on Mike Murphy's deck except
+over Mike Murphy's dead body. According to the president emeritus there
+is more than one kind of Irish, but I'll guarantee Mike Murphy isn't the
+double-crossing kind."
+
+A boy entered with a telegram. It was a day letter filed by Mike Murphy
+in Norfolk that morning, and Matt Peasley read it aloud:
+
+"Sailing at noon. Regret your failure take me into your confidence when
+deciding withdraw vessel from neutral trade. If orders send me to either
+of ports named in charter party and I am overhauled _en route_, that is
+your funeral. If orders conflict with charter party, as I suspect they
+may, that may be my funeral. Regretfully I shall resign at Pernambuco.
+You know your own business, and I cannot believe you would go it blind;
+if you change your mind before arrival Pernambuco, cable care American
+Consul and will do my best for you.
+
+"M. J. M."
+
+Gappy Ricks sprang into the air and tried to crack his aged ankles
+together.
+
+"Saved!" he croaked. "By the Holy Pink-toed Prophet! Saved! Bully for
+Mike Murphy! Say, when that fellow gets back, if I don't do something
+handsome for him--"
+
+Matt Peasley's scowls had been replaced by smiles.
+
+"God bless his old Mickedonian heart!" he said fervently. "He thinks
+the coal is for that British fleet reported to be _en route_ across
+the Atlantic to give battle to the German Pacific fleet; or for Admiral
+Craddock's Pacific fleet in case the Germans chase it back into the
+Atlantic. He knows that we know he is pro-German and for anything that's
+against England--and if he makes up his mind the coal is for the British
+fleet he'll resign before delivering it! By Judas, this would be funny
+if it wasn't so blamed serious."
+
+"To be forewarned is to be forearmed," Mr. Skinner quoted sagely. "It is
+most fortunate for us that Murphy's suspicions do us a grave injustice.
+We know now that he will call on the American consul at Pernambuco and
+ask for a cablegram."
+
+"Yes, and by thunder! we'll send it," Cappy declared joyously. "Cable
+him, Skinner, to fire that German crew so fast one might play checkers
+on their coat tails as they go overside."
+
+"I wish to heaven I could wireless him to put back to New York and ship
+a new crew," Matt Peasley mourned. "There's just a possibility that
+German crew of his may take over the ship on the high seas and not put
+into Pernambuco at all!"
+
+"We can only wait and pray," said Mr. Skinner piously.
+
+Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair and, pop-eyed with horror,
+gazed at his son-in-law over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+"Matt," he declared, "you're as cheerful as a funeral. Here we have this
+thing all settled, and you have to go to work and rip the silver lining
+out of our cloud of contentment. And the worst of it is, by golly, I
+think there's something in that theory of yours after all."
+
+"We should always be prepared to meet the worst, Mr. Ricks," Mr.
+Skinner admonished the president emeritus. "While piracy as a practice
+practically perished prior to the--"
+
+"Skinner! In the fiend's name, spare us this alliteration and humbug,"
+Cappy fairly shrieked. "You're driving me crazy. If it isn't platitude,
+it's your dog-gone habit of initialing things!" He placed his old elbows
+on his knees and bowed his head in his hands. "If I'm not the original
+Mr. Tight Wad!" he lamented. "But you must forgive me, Matt. I got in
+the habit of thinking of expense when I was young, and I've never gotten
+over it. You know how a habit gets a grip on a man, don't you, Matt? Oh,
+if you had only overruled me when I decided to save money by cutting
+out the wireless on the _Narcissus!_ I remember now you wanted it, and
+I said: 'Well, what's the use? The _Narcissus_ hasn't any passenger
+license and she doesn't have to have wireless--so why do something we
+don't have to do?' Skinner, you should have known enough--"
+
+"I am managing the lumber end of the business, Mr. Ricks," Skinner
+retorted icily.
+
+"Never mind what you're managing. You're my balance wheel. I've raised
+you for that very purpose. I've been twenty-five years breaking you in
+to your job of relieving me of my business worries--and you don't do it.
+No, you don't, Skinner. Don't deny it, now. You don't. I pay you to
+boss me, but do you do it? No, sir. You let me have my own way--when
+I'm round you're afraid to say your soul's your own. You two boys know
+blamed well I'm an old man and that an old man will make mistakes. It
+is your duty to watch me. I pay the money, but I don't get the service.
+When Matt argued with me about the wireless you sided in with me,
+Skinner. You've got that infernal saving habit, too--drat you! Don't
+deny it, Skinner. I can see by the look in your eye you're fixing to
+contradict me. You're as miserable a miser as I am--afraid to spend five
+cents and play safe--you penurious--er--er--fellow! Skinner, if you ever
+forget yourself long enough to give three hoots in hell you'll want one
+of them back. See now what your niggardly policy has done for us? At a
+time when we'd hock our immortal souls for a wireless to talk to Mike
+Murphy and tell him things, where are we?" Cappy snapped his fingers.
+"Up Salt Creek--without a paddle!"
+
+"Come, come," Matt said soothingly, "As Skinner says, we can only wait
+and pray--"
+
+"All right. You two do the praying. I'm going to sit here and cuss."
+
+"Well, we'll hope for the best, Mr. Ricks. No more crying over spilled
+milk now. I'll figure out when the _Narcissus_ is due at Pernambuco and
+cable Mike to let his crew go. And you know, sir, even if he should
+not receive our cablegram, we have still one hope left. True, it is a
+forlorn one, but it's worth a small bet. The crew of the _Narcissus_ is
+not all German. There are--"
+
+"Two pro-German Irishmen, two disinterested Native Son Chinamen and a
+little runt of a Cockney steward," Cappy sneered. "And she carries a
+crew of forty, all told. Matt, those odds are too long for any bet
+of mine. Besides, Reardon and Murphy hate each other. A house divided
+against itself, you know--"
+
+"They might bang each other all over the main deck," Matt replied
+musingly, "but I'll bet they'll fight side by side for the ship. Of
+course we haven't known Terence Reardon very long; he may be a bad one
+after all; but Mike Murphy will go far. He's as cunning as a pet fox,
+and he may make up in strategy what he lacks in numbers."
+
+"The Irish are so filled with blarney--" Skinner began, but Cappy cut
+him short with a terrible look.
+
+"There goes some more of our silver lining," he rasped. "Skinner, what
+are you? A kill-joy? Now, just for that, I'm going to agree with Matt. A
+man has got to believe something in this world or go crazy, and I prefer
+to believe that the ship is safe with those two Hibernians aboard--win,
+lose or draw. And I want you two to quit picking on me; I don't want the
+word '_Narcissus_' mentioned in my presence until the ship is reported
+confiscated by the British, if her coal is for the Germans, or by the
+Germans, if her coal is for the British--which it isn't--or until Mike
+Murphy reports at Manila or Batavia and cables us for orders."
+
+"I'm with you there, sir," Matt Peasley declared. "I'm going to bank
+on the Irish, and refuse to believe it possible for the _Nar_--for a
+certain vessel flying our house-flag to be caught by the wrong warship,
+a couple of thousand miles off her course and with coal, or evidences of
+coal, in her cargo space. Buck up, Skinner. A little Christian Science
+here, boy. Just make up your mind no man in authority is going to come
+over the rail of the--of a certain vessel--and ask Mike Murphy or his
+successor _pro tem._, for a look at his papers!"
+
+"If she ever is confiscated on an illegal errand," Skinner mourned, "and
+Mike Murphy has nothing more tangible than a dime-novel tale of coercion
+as an excuse for being in that latitude and longitude--well, we'll never
+get our bully big ship back again!"
+
+And for the first time in his life the efficient Mr. Skinner so far
+forgot himself as to swear in the office!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Throughout the long, lazy days that the _Narcissus_ rolled into the
+South, Captain Michael J. Murphy's alert brain was busy every spare
+moment, striving to discover, in the incomprehensible charter his owners
+had made for him, what the French call _la raison d'etre._ Not having
+any wireless, he was unable to keep in touch with the stirring events
+being enacted in Europe and on the high seas, as news of the said events
+filtered by him through space. While on the West Coast, where all the
+newspapers are printed in Spanish, he had been equally barred from
+keeping in touch with the war, although _en route_ through the Panama
+Canal he did his best to buy up all the old newspapers on the Zone.
+
+Upon arrival in New York with his cargo of nitrate, his anxiety to make
+a record in his first command in steam caused him to stay on the job
+every moment the _Narcissus_ was discharging, for Cappy Ricks had
+impressed upon him, as he impressed upon every skipper in the Blue
+Star employ, the fact that a slow boat is slow paying dividends.
+Consequently, the worthy captain had had no time to acquaint himself
+with the movements of the various fleets, and when he sent his day
+letter to his owners on the morning of the day he sailed from Norfolk
+for Pernambuco, his action was predicated, not on what he knew, but on
+what he felt. The sixth sense that all real sailors possess warned him
+that his cargo of coal was not destined for Batavia nor yet Manila, but
+for delivery at sea to the warships of some foreign nation. Devoutly
+Michael J. hoped it wasn't for the British fleet, since in such
+a contingency he would be cruelly torn between his love and duty.
+Consequently he resolved that, should the choice of alternatives be
+forced upon him, he would steer a middle course and resign his command.
+
+On the other hand, Mike Murphy knew Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks to
+be intensely pro-Ally in their sympathies, despite the President's
+proclamation of neutrality and the polite requests of the motion-picture
+houses for their audiences to remain perfectly quiet while Field-Marshal
+von Hindenburg, Sir John French and General Joffre came on the screen
+and bowed. Under the circumstances, therefore, Murphy found it very
+difficult to suspect his owners of conspiring to deliver a cargo of coal
+to the German fleet at sea. No, indeed! Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks
+were too intensely American for that; indeed, Cappy was always saying he
+hoped to see an American mercantile marine established before he should
+be gathered to the bosom of Abraham.
+
+From whatever angle the doughty skipper viewed it, therefore, the tangle
+became more and more incomprehensible. Cappy and Matt knew full well
+the rules of the game as promulgated by their Uncle Samuel, and the dire
+penalties for infraction. However, granted that they knew they could
+scheme successfully to evade punishment at the hands of their own
+government, Mike Murphy knew full well that no man could guarantee
+immunity from the right of a belligerent warship to visit and search, or
+from confiscation or months of demurrage in a prize court in the event
+that his ship's papers and the course the vessel was travelling failed
+to justify her presence in that particular longitude and latitude.
+And with the huge profits to be made in neutral trade, it seemed
+incomprehensible that a sound business man like Cappy Ricks should
+assume all these risks for the sake of a little extra money. Surely
+he must realize that if he sent her on an illegal errand her war-risk
+insurance would not hold.
+
+On the other hand, it appeared to Murphy that the charter must have
+been consummated with the full knowledge and consent of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, for the veriest tyro in the shipping business could
+not have failed to be suspicious of that clause in the charter party,
+stipulating a call at Pernambuco for orders. Of course there was the
+possibility that this acquiescence had been due to misrepresentation
+on the part of the New York agents or rank stupidity on the part of the
+Blue Star Navigation Company. But Seaborn & Company were above a shady
+deal. In putting through the charter for the Blue Star Navigation
+Company it might have occurred to them that all was not as it should
+be, but that was none of their business. If they spread their hand and
+permitted Cappy Ricks an unobstructed view, it was up to Cappy to decide
+and order them to close or reject the charter. As for stupidity on the
+part of the Blue Star Navigation Company, Murphy knew full well that
+stupidity was the crime Cappy Ricks found it hardest to forgive. Even
+had Cappy overlooked that suspicious clause in the charter, because of
+his age, Matt Peasley's youth and practical maritime knowledge should
+have offset Cappy's error; and even if both had erred, there still
+remained the matchless Skinner, as suspicious as a burglar, as keen as a
+razor, as infallible as a chronometer.
+
+No, it just didn't seem possible that the Blue Star Navigation Company
+had gone into the deal with eyes wide open; on the contrary, it seemed
+equally impossible that they had gone into it with their eyes shut.
+Consequently Michael J. decided to wake them up--provided they slept on
+the job--and to give them an opportunity to repent before it should be
+too late.
+
+He felt very much better after sending that telegram, but as the
+_Narcissus_ ploughed steadily south at the rate of two hundred and
+thirty miles a day, he began to grieve because he had no wireless to
+bring him a prompt reply; he berated himself for not waiting at the dock
+in Norfolk until his owners should have had an opportunity to answer;
+he abused himself for his timidity in questioning the judgment of his
+owners, for indeed he had been content to hint when more decisive action
+was demanded.
+
+How Michael J. Murphy yearned to discuss his problem with some one as
+loyal and devoted to the Blue Star Navigation Company as himself! His
+dignity as master of the _Narcissus_, however, bade him refrain from
+discussing the integrity of his owners with his mates--particularly
+with new mates, to whom the house-flag stood for naught but a symbol of
+monthly revenue. In fact, of the forty-one men under him, there was but
+one with whom he could, with entire dignity, discuss the matter. That
+man was Terence Reardon. But even here he was barred, for since he had
+called the chief engineer a renegade, the only possible discussion
+that could obtain between them now must be anything but academic;
+in consequence of which Michael J. Murphy was forced to hug his
+apprehensions to himself until the _Narcissus_ steamed slowly into the
+outer harbor of Pernambuco. Ten minutes after she dropped her big hook
+the skipper's suspicions were crystallized into certainty.
+
+Just as she came to anchor the steward appeared on deck, vociferously
+beating his triangle to announce supper--for at sea dinner is always
+supper.
+
+"Mr. Schultz," the captain called from the bridge, "as soon as your men
+have had their supper clear away the working boat. I'm going ashore."
+
+"Very vell, sir," Mr. Schultz replied heartily, and the captain went
+below to supper. He was scarcely seated before Mr. Schultz stuck his
+head in the dining saloon window and announced that a gentleman who
+claimed to represent the charterers was alongside in a launch and
+desired to come aboard and speak with him.
+
+"Let down the accommodation ladder, Mr. Schultz, and when the gentleman
+comes aboard, show him round to my state-room," the skipper answered.
+"I'll meet him there in a pig's whisper. It is probable he has come
+aboard with our orders, Mr. Schultz, so never mind clearing away the
+boat until I speak to you further about it. Steward, set an extra cover
+at my right. We may have a guest for supper."
+
+He hurried round to his state-room and donned a uniform coat to receive
+his visitor. Mr. Schultz came presently, bearing a visiting-card upon
+which was engraved the name: Mr. August Carl von Staden. Behind the mate
+a sailor with a bulging suitcase stood at attention; two more sailors
+stood behind the first, a steamer trunk between them, and as Captain
+Murphy stepped out on deck to greet his visitor he observed a tall,
+athletic, splendid-looking fellow coming leisurely toward him along the
+deck. The stranger carried a large Gladstone bag.
+
+The captain bowed. "I am the skipper of this big box," he announced
+pleasantly. "Murphy is my name."
+
+Herr von Staden shook hands and in most excellent English, without
+the slightest trace of a German accent, expressed his pleasure in the
+meeting. The captain cast a glance of frank curiosity at the bag von
+Staden carried and at the baggage the sailors had in tow. Von Staden
+interpreted the glance and smiled.
+
+"I have brought you your orders, Captain Murphy. They are contained in
+this envelope;" and he handed a blank envelope to the captain. "However,
+I happened to know that one of the orders is to provide a berth for me.
+I'm to go with you as supercargo."
+
+"I hadn't heard anything about such a possibility," Mike Murphy replied,
+with just a shade of formality in his tones. He turned to the first
+mate: "Mr. Schultz, will you be good enough to see to it that Mr. von
+Staden's baggage is stowed in the owners' suite. Then tell the steward
+to see that our guest's quarters are put in order. Mr. von Staden, will
+you kindly step into my stateroom here while I read these orders?"
+
+Von Staden nodded. Entering the captain's room he sat down on the
+settee and lighted a gold-tipped cigarette, while Murphy tore open the
+envelope. It contained a cablegram reading as follows:
+
+"Von Staden & Ulrich,--Pernambuco, Brazil,--Ornillo Montevideo.
+
+"BLUESTAR."
+
+The captain reached for his telegraphic-code book. When decoded the
+message read:
+
+"Instruct captain to proceed to Montevideo and there await further
+orders.
+
+"BLUE STAR NAVIGATION COMPANY."
+
+The cablegram had been filed at San Francisco two days before. Murphy
+looked keenly at his guest, who smoked tranquilly and returned the look
+without interest.
+
+"Mr. von Staden," the captain announced, "these are strange orders, in
+view of the fact that I cleared from New York for Manila or Batavia,
+via the Cape of Good Hope. It would be a sure sign of bad luck to the
+steamer _Narcissus_ if a British cruiser should pick her up off the
+coast of Uruguay."
+
+Von Staden smiled. "You are very direct, captain--very blunt indeed.
+This is a characteristic more Teutonic than Celtic, I believe, so I
+shall experience no embarrassment in being equally frank with you. Your
+cargo of coal is designed for our German Pacific fleet."
+
+"I guessed as much, sir. Nevertheless, my owners did not see fit to take
+me into their confidence in this illegal undertaking, Mr. von Staden--"
+
+"They did not think it necessary," von Staden interrupted smilingly.
+"In fact, Captain Peasley assured our people in New York that your
+sympathies are so overwhelming in favor of our cause we need anticipate
+no worry as to the course you would pursue. Moreover, in the event of a
+judicial inquiry it would be an advantage if you could say that you had
+had no voice in the matter, but had been instructed to obey the orders
+of the charterers--of whom we are the agents in Pernambuco. Perhaps this
+cablegram will allay your fears," and he drew an unopened cablegram from
+his pocket and handed it to Murphy. It was a code cablegram, signed by
+the Blue Star Navigation Company and addressed to Murphy in care of von
+Staden & Ulrich. When decoded it read:
+
+"Execute the orders of supercargo if possible. It may lead to further
+business. Charterers must take the risk. We do not think there is any
+risk. Please remain."
+
+This cablegram was signed "Matt."
+
+"Well, captain?" von Staden queried politely.
+
+"I don't like this business at all," the captain replied. "My owners may
+think there is no risk, but I'm afraid. England controls the seas--"
+
+"We are in possession of the secret code of the British Navy, Captain
+Murphy. We know the approximate location of every British warship in the
+Atlantic and Pacific--and I assure you there is no risk."
+
+"Well, my boss informs me the charterers assume the risk, so I suppose
+I shouldn't worry over the Blue Star Navigation Company's end of the
+gamble. They know their own business, I dare say. Evidently they feared
+I might want to resign, so I have been asked to remain; and when Captain
+Peasley says 'please' to me, Mr. von Staden, I find it very, very hard
+to refuse."
+
+"I am glad, for the sake of our selfish interests, my dear captain, to
+find you so loyal to your owners' financial interests," the supercargo
+replied heartily. "Now that you have decided to remain, I need not point
+out to you the danger of a resignation at this time. It might lead
+to some unlooked-for developments which might prejudice your owners,
+although I think they have covered their tracks very effectually.
+Nevertheless, it is not well to take the slightest risk--"
+
+"Without being well paid for it," Murphy interrupted sneeringly. "My
+owners have been well paid for their risk, but where do I come in? I
+haven't been promised double my usual salary, or a split on the profits
+of the voyage; and I know if I were to command a vessel loaded with
+munitions of war I would not be asked to take her into the North Sea at
+the customary skipper's wages. I'd be offered a large bonus."
+
+"You forget, my dear captain, that your charterers assume all the risks.
+One of them was the risk that you might resign unless you received
+adequate compensation. I came aboard prepared to insure that risk," and
+he touched with his toe the Gladstone bag. "What do you say to $5,000?"
+
+Michael J. Murphy smiled. "It is pleasant, sir," he said, "to be paid
+$5,000 for doing something one yearns to do for nothing. I am not a hog.
+Five thousand dollars is sufficient. How do I get it--and when?"
+
+"In gold coin of the United States, or gold certificates of the same
+interesting country, my dear captain, and you may have it immediately."
+Again Herr von Staden kicked the Gladstone bag.
+
+"I'll take it in gold certificates. And in order that my dear old
+father and mother may have the benefit of my rascality in case anything
+unforeseen should arise to prevent my return, I suggest you hand over
+the boodle this minute, and I'll go ashore and express it home."
+
+"Captain Murphy, you are a man after my own heart--"
+
+"I am not a born fool, sir," Murphy interrupted. "I'm accepting this
+money to be a fool, well knowing it is foolish to do it, for still I
+am taking a risk. I am thirty-eight years old, Mr. von Staden, and a
+skipper as young as that has his future all before him. Set him down on
+the beach, however, with his ticket revoked for all time--and his future
+is behind him."
+
+"In that event," the supercargo replied, "you might accept my assurance,
+without questioning my authority for such assurance, that you would have
+no difficulty in procuring a remunerative position ashore. The firm of
+von Staden & Ulrich could use you very handily."
+
+"Thank you, sir. Consider the matter settled. Will you come ashore with
+me, sir, and dine, or would you prefer to have supper aboard?"
+
+"I beg of you to be excused from going ashore, captain. I have much to
+do to-night. The launch which brought me alongside has a knocked-down
+wireless plant aboard, and I am anxious to have it set up on your good
+ship _Narcissus_--a task I shall have to oversee personally. I shall
+probably work all night."
+
+"Praise be!" Michael J. Murphy answered heartily. "We'll have some
+interest in life now. We can get all the war news, going and coming,
+can't we? Have you brought along an operator?"
+
+"I am an operator," the supercargo answered. "By the by, can you fix me
+up with a wireless room?"
+
+"There are two staterooms and a bath in the owners' suite which you will
+occupy. You can take your choice."
+
+"Good. I shall want to sleep close to my instrument."
+
+He opened the bag, counted out five one-thousand-dollar gold
+certificates of the United States of America and handed them to the
+captain.
+
+"The grand old rag," Michael J. murmured. "How many rascals fight under
+the flag of old King Spondulics!"
+
+"I believe you have an Irish chief engineer," von Staden continued.
+"While I understand his sympathies are with us, still it seems only
+right to compensate--"
+
+"Suit yourself, Mr. von Staden."
+
+"What kind of a man is he, captain?"
+
+"I'd hate to tell you. I've had little to do with him, but that little
+was enough. We avoid each other as much as possible and never speak
+except in the line of duty. I make no bones of the fact that I think
+he's a scrub."
+
+Mr. von Staden nodded sagely. "Perhaps I'd better wait and get
+acquainted with him," he suggested, and closed his bag. Murphy
+showed him to his quarters, which the steward, under the first mate's
+supervision, was already setting in order; and, having decided to set
+up the wireless in the sleeping-room, von Staden accompanied the skipper
+round to superintend the taking on board of the wireless plant from
+the gasoline launch bobbing alongside. When the equipment was finally
+hoisted to the deck of the _Narcissus_, Michael J, Murphy boarded the
+launch and was whisked ashore for the avowed purpose of sending to his
+aged parents the fruits of his elastic conscience.
+
+Herr August Carl von Staden stood at the head of the accommodation
+ladder and smiled as the launch disappeared into the tropic twilight.
+Then he said something in German to Mr. Schultz, who laughed. Evidently
+it was very good news, for even the quartermaster at the companion
+ladder smiled covertly. It is possible they would not have felt so
+cheerful had they known that Michael J. Murphy's "dear old father and
+mother" had been sleeping in a Boston cemetery some fifteen years, and
+that their last words to Michael had been an exhortation to remember
+that manliness and honor must be his only heritage. And as the launch
+bore him shoreward, he looked back and grinned at the dim, duck-clad
+figure of von Staden.
+
+"Your agents looked me up, my hearty," he soliloquized, "and if they did
+their work half well, they told you I was an honest man. Only a crook
+comes with a bag of gold to talk illegitimate business with an honest
+man. I'm banking you're as crooked as a bed spring, and that there's
+something fishy about this enterprise. Cappy Ricks isn't fully informed,
+otherwise he wouldn't be doing business with a crook!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Arrived ashore, Captain Murphy hurried to the cable office, registered
+his cable address, borrowed a code book and sent a code telegram to
+his owner. Then, having subsidized the operator liberally to rush it,
+Michael J. Murphy set out for a stroll among the limited attractions
+of Pernambuco. His cablegram would get through in two hours at the very
+most, and though the captain figured the Blue Star offices would
+be closed when the message reached San Francisco, still he was not
+discouraged. He knew the cable company always telephoned to Mr. Skinner,
+at his home, all Blue Star and Ricks Lumber & Logging messages arriving
+after office hours and before midnight. Naturally Skinner could be
+depended upon to have a copy of the code at home, and if he didn't
+Murphy knew he would rush down to the office, no matter what the hour,
+and decode it there. Of course he would cable his reply immediately, in
+which event it might be that the captain would have an answer shortly
+after midnight or by breakfast at the latest.
+
+He decided, therefore, to return to the cable office about midnight and
+await the reply to his cablegram. He had proceeded but a few blocks from
+the cable office, however, before a disturbing thought struck him with
+such force as to bring him to an abrupt pause.
+
+_His owners had cabled him in care of von Staden & Ulrich, when in the
+telegram sent just before sailing from Norfolk he had instructed them
+to cable him in care of the American consul._ Murphy's native shrewdness
+had made him suspicious of von Staden the instant the latter had so
+nonchalantly offered him a bribe of five thousand dollars, for
+the proffer of a bribe of that magnitude, without any preliminary
+bargaining, did not co-ordinate with Michael's idea of business.
+Certainly if the charterers had his owners "fixed," five thousand
+dollars was too much money to give their captain, particularly since
+there were available any number of capable rascals eager to do the job
+for twenty-five hundred, and the devil take the consequences.
+
+At the time von Staden had handed him the two cablegrams from the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, no suspicion that they were forgeries had
+entered the captain's mind; indeed, Matt Peasley's cablegram to him
+appeared at first blush to be an answer to the telegram which Murphy had
+sent his owners from Norfolk. In that telegram Murphy had mentioned his
+suspicions and hinted at unwarranted risks and the possibility of
+the circumstances attending the delivery of his cargo forcing his
+resignation. Matt's cablegram handed him by von Staden urged him to
+remain in the ship and assured him there were no risks; that if there
+were, the charterers assumed them. For the nonce, therefore, the
+master's mind did not dwell on any doubts as to the genuineness of
+the orders he had received, even though he decided instantly as a
+precautionary measure to confirm them before proceeding to carry them
+out. This, however, was merely because he was suspicious of von
+Staden and desired to obviate the possibility of that individual's
+double-crossing the Blue Star Navigation Company.
+
+Under the circumstances, therefore, he had considered it good policy to
+appear to fall readily in line, and, the better to disarm von Staden's
+watchfulness, he had demanded extra compensation. The ease with which
+the bribe had been secured having crystallized his suspicions, instantly
+he had cast about in his ingenious brain for a good sound excuse for
+going ashore and cabling his owners. To demand his bribe in advance and
+then announce that he would go ashore and express it to those dependent
+upon him, in case he failed to return and enjoy it himself, seemed to
+present a reason that would not be questioned and accordingly he had
+done so.
+
+Michael J. Murphy removed his uniform cap and thoughtfully scratched his
+head. "Now why," he demanded of the scented night, "did Matt cable me
+in care of that German firm when he must have known I would call on the
+American consul in the expectation of finding a cablegram there?" He
+shook his head. "They've got us winging, Michael," he soliloquized, "so
+I suppose the only thing to do is to play safe, call upon the American
+consul immediately if not sooner, and ask if he has a cablegram for us."
+
+And without further ado the worthy fellow sprang into a cab and was
+whirled away to the residence of the American consul. Yes, the consul
+had a cablegram for him, but it was at his office. Could Captain Murphy
+not wait until morning?
+
+Most emphatically Captain Murphy could not. That cablegram was
+important; it meant a great deal of money and possibly life or death--
+
+Regretfully the consul entered the cab with the captain, drove to the
+consulate and delivered the cable-gram to the eager mariner, who swore
+when he discovered it was in cipher and not code, for this necessitated
+immediate return to the _Narcissus_ in order to obtain the key to the
+cipher. He thanked the consul and sent the latter home in the cab, while
+he hurried for the harbor front and the nearest boat landing. He was
+filled with apprehension, for indeed there was something radically
+wrong when his owners cabled him in the secret cipher of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company--something the company had, doubtless, never found
+occasion to do before. For while each vessel of the Blue Star fleet
+had a copy of the A.L. code aboard, with the cipher key typewritten and
+pasted on the second fly-leaf, not a single Blue Star skipper knew why
+it had been pasted there or why the company should have gone to the
+trouble of getting up any one of the hundreds of secret ciphers possible
+to be developed from the A. L. Telegraphic Code. This was a secret that
+lay locked in the breast of Mr. Skinner. It is probable, however, that
+it had occurred to him in an idle moment that a secret cipher might
+come in handy some day, and Mr. Skinner believed in being prepared for
+emergencies.
+
+The captain bade the launch wait for him at the accommodation ladder,
+while he hurried round to his state-room and promptly fell to work on
+Mr. Skinner's cipher cablegram. When he had laboriously deciphered it
+this is what he read:
+
+"Unaccountably failed note suspicious clause charter. Something rotten.
+We are playing square game. Think plot deliver coal German fleet South
+Atlantic. Discharge your German crew immediately, first notifying
+Brazilian authorities and American consul. Have help when you notify
+them game is off, otherwise may take vessel away from you. They will
+stop at nothing; fleet desperate for coal. Cable acknowledgment these
+orders; also cable when orders fulfilled. Very anxious. 'BLUE STAR
+NAVIGATION COMPANY.'"
+
+"Ah-h-h!" breathed Michael J. Murphy softly, but very distinctly. "So
+that's the game, eh?" His big square chin set viciously; subconsciously
+he clenched his hard fist and shook it at his enemies. "The cunning
+Dutch devils!" he murmured very audibly, and at that precise instant
+Herr August Carl von Staden stood in the open doorway. He coughed, and
+Murphy glanced up from the translation of the cipher message just in
+time to note a swift shadow pass over the supercargo's face, a shadow
+composed of equal parts of suspicion, embarrassment and desperation.
+
+"You have returned very promptly, captain," he remarked smoothly, and
+then his restless glance fell on the cablegram and beside it the scratch
+pad and the two parallel columns of words scrawled on it. A man of far
+less intelligence than von Staden possessed would, have realized as
+quickly that the first column was composed of cipher words, while the
+second column was the translation. From this tell-tale evidence his
+suspicious glance lifted to the skipper's face, and he read in Michael
+J. Murphy's black eyes the wild rage which no Irishman could have
+concealed--which the majority of his race would not even have taken the
+trouble to endeavor to conceal.
+
+In that glance each learned the other's secret; each realized that the
+success of his plans depended on the silence of the other; each resolved
+instantly to procure that silence at any cost. Von Staden reached for
+his hip pocket, but before he could draw his automatic pistol and cover
+the skipper, Michael J. Murphy had hurled ten pounds of code book into
+the geometric centre of the supercargo's face. It was the first weapon
+his hand closed over, and he did not disdain it. The instant it landed
+and von Staden reeled before the blow, Murphy came out of his state-room
+with a scuttering rush and von Staden fired as he came. The captain felt
+the sting of the bullet as it creased the top of his left shoulder;
+then his right fist came up in a blow that started at his hip and landed
+fairly under the supercargo's heart. Von Staden grunted once, the pistol
+dropped clattering to the deck and he folded up like an accordion. For
+him the battle was over.
+
+Not so, however, with Mike Murphy. Gone to the winds now was the caution
+he would have exercised had the attack been delayed two seconds longer;
+forgotten was the shrewd advice of his owners to have help standing by
+when the ship cleaning should commence. Michael J. Murphy thought of
+nothing but blood, for the fight had started now and he was loath to
+have it cease.
+
+"You bloody murderer!" he growled. "You'd kill me and steal my ship,
+would you?" And with the reckless abandon of a sailor he planted the
+broad toe of a number nine boot in Herr von Staden's short ribs, hoping
+to break a few, for in the process of working his way up from the bottom
+Michael had fought under deep-sea rules too often to be squeamish now.
+So he kicked Herr von Staden again, after which a glimmer of reason
+penetrated his hot head and he walked to pick up the supercargo's
+automatic pistol. Then something landed on him from above and he went
+down backward. His head struck the deck with a resounding thump,
+and Michael J. Murphy had a through ticket to the Land of Nod and no
+stop-over privileges.
+
+The something which had thus inopportunely dropped on Michael was Mr.
+Henckel, the second mate. He had gone up on the bridge to see if
+the canvas jacket had been dropped over the brightly polished brass
+engine-room telegraph apparatus at each end of the bridge, in order to
+protect it from the tropical dew. While thus engaged he had heard the
+shot which von Staden fired at the captain, and forthwith had run across
+the top of the house and peered over to discover what was happening
+on the deck below. Discovering the captain in the act of kicking a
+distinguished son of the Fatherland in that fragile section of the human
+anatomy frequently referred to as the "slats," the second mate had stood
+a moment, immobile with horror, the while he gazed upon the fearful
+scene. Then the captain walked to a spot on the deck directly beneath
+the position occupied by his subordinate, and stooped to pick something
+up.
+
+Even their enemies are proud of the dash and gallantry, the utter
+contempt for consequences, which animate the German going into battle,
+and Mr. Henckel, second mate of the S.S. _Narcissus_, was as fine a
+German as one could find in a day's travel. The instant Michael J.
+Murphy stooped to recover von Staden's automatic pistol, therefore, Mr.
+Henckel saw his duty and, in the language of the elect, "he went an'
+done it"--the which was absurdly simple. He merely leaped down off
+the house on top of the captain, and forthwith deep peace and profound
+silence brooded over the good ship _Narcissus_, of San Francisco.
+
+It is worthy of remark here that Mr. Terence Reardon who, had he been
+present, might have had something to say--not that his action would
+indicate that he despised Mike Murphy the less, but that he loved his
+owners more--was unfortunately down in the engine-room. Consequently he
+failed to hear the shot, and when he came up on deck the victims of
+the affray had been collected and taken thence, a seaman with a mop
+had removed the profuse evidence which Mike Murphy's rich red blood had
+furnished and Mr. Schultz, the first mate, was on the bridge, while Mr.
+Henckel was up on the forecastle head with his gang, waiting for the
+order to break out the anchor.
+
+Presently a seaman came up on the bridge and reported that the light in
+Mr. Reardon's state-room had been out fifteen minutes. So Mr. Schultz
+waited an hour longer to make certain the chief engineer would be
+asleep; whereupon commenced a harsh, discordant tune--the music of
+the anchor chain paying in through the hawse pipe. When it ceased Mr.
+Schultz stepped to the marine telegraph; a bell jingled in the bowels of
+the _Narcissus_; an instant later all the lights aboard her went out as
+the first assistant engineer threw off the switch, and silently in the
+heavy velvet gloom the great vessel slipped out of Pernambuco harbor and
+headed south.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Just about the time the _Narcissus_ was kicking ahead at nine knots, in
+distant San Francisco the cable company was getting Mr. Skinner out
+of bed to dictate to him over the telephone a message which had just
+arrived from Pernambuco.
+
+"Ah!" murmured the incomparable Skinner as he donned a dressing gown and
+slippers and descended to his library to decode the cablegram. "The
+luck of the Blue Star flag still holds. That belligerent and highly
+intelligent fellow Murphy has received our cablegram, sent him in care
+of the American consul, and in accordance with my instructions he is
+acknowledging its receipt. Hum-m-m! The first word is 'oriana.' Let
+me turn to 'oriana.' Hum-m! 'I have an order presumably emanating from
+blank.' Ah, yes, the next word is 'Buestar,' the cable address of the
+Blue Star Navigation Company. Well, well, well, the foxy fellow! After
+wiring us to cable him, he gets our cable and then cables us to confirm
+it! Caution is a virtue, but this brand is too high-priced. The next
+word is 'osculo'."
+
+Mr. Skinner turned to "osculo" and discovered that it meant "I am
+ordered to--" The next word in the cablegram was "Montevideo."
+
+"Good heavens!" Mr. Skinner gasped. "He has received orders, presumably
+emanating from us, ordering him to Montevideo! Can it be possible that
+Mr. Ricks or Matt Peasley has sent him a cablegram without my knowledge?
+I must read further."
+
+He did, and having done so he discovered that, in addition to being
+ordered to Montevideo, Mike Murphy wanted to know if it was all right
+and if von Staden and Ulrich--presumably German--were to be trusted;
+that he would remain in command at the company's request, although
+he considered such request unreasonable, even if it could be granted
+without risk. Also, he wanted these instructions confirmed and was
+anxiously awaiting an answer.
+
+"Well, I'm certain of one thing," Mr. Skinner soliloquized after
+reading this extraordinary message: "Murphy has not been to the American
+consul's office for the cablegram I sent him several days ago. Evidently
+there is mischief afoot. However, there is nothing to be gained by
+cabling him again in care of the American consul, so I'll just assume
+that he has registered his cable address with the cable company; hence,
+if I cable him to his cable address the message will be delivered to him
+aboard the _Narcissus_. And since he says he is anxiously awaiting an
+answer, I'll relieve his anxiety with all possible speed and send him an
+answer immediately."
+
+Whereupon Mr. Skinner wasted several dollars cabling Mike Murphy that
+the Blue Star Navigation had not, to his knowledge, cabled him any
+instructions save those sent in care of the American consul; that von
+Staden and Ulrich were unknown to him, and to be very careful not to
+lose the ship. This message Mr. Skinner dictated over the telephone to
+the telegraph office and asked them to rush it. Evidently they did so,
+for just as Cappy Ricks arrived in the office the following morning,
+word was received from the telegraph company that owing to the departure
+of the _Narcissus_ from Pernambuco the night before, the Blue Star
+Navigation Company's cablegram had not been delivered.
+
+"Well, Skinner," Cappy chirped as he sat in at his desk and lighted a
+cigar, "what's the news around the shop this fine morning? Any word from
+Murphy?"
+
+"Yes--and no," Mr. Skinner replied, and laid his information before
+Cappy for perusal. Cappy read it all twice, then slid out to the edge of
+his chair, placed his hands on his knees and looked at Mr. Skinner over
+the rims of his spectacles.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he said solemnly, "this is certainly hell! Cable
+the American consul in Pernambuco and ask him if Murphy received the
+cablegram we sent in care of the consulate. And, in the meantime, don't
+whisper a word of this disquieting information to Matt Peasley. Time
+enough to cross a bridge, Skinner, when you come to it."
+
+Mr. Skinner promptly filed a cablegram to the American consul, and just
+before the office closed they got about forty dollars' worth of reply,
+informing them that Captain Murphy had appeared at the consulate greatly
+excited the night previous; that he had declared the cablegram awaiting
+him might mean life or death--certainly a large sum of money; that he
+had been given the cablegram and had gone aboard ship to look up his
+cipher key. He had not returned and the ship was not in the harbor.
+
+"Let me see the carbon copy of the cablegram you sent Murphy in care of
+the American consul," Cappy demanded. Mr. Skinner with a sinking heart
+obeyed.
+
+"Skinner," said Cappy, "do I understand you sent this message in cipher,
+which necessitated on the part of our captain a trip back to his ship
+before he could decipher it? Why didn't you send him the message in
+regular code? He would then have decoded it right in the consulate, or
+at best he could have gone to the cable office and borrowed a code book
+from them."
+
+"I sent it in our secret cipher," Mr. Skinner faltered. "It was delicate
+business--quite--er--an international complication, as it were, and in
+the event of unpleasant developments--Well, how did I know but that some
+German might be on the key at the cable office when the message arrived
+there for Murphy--"
+
+"Quite right, Skinner, my boy, quite right," Cappy interrupted
+sadly. "The only trouble with you, Skinner, is that you're too danged
+efficient. You look so far into the future you're always gumming up the
+present." He sighed.
+
+"Why, what do you think--" Skinner began, but Cappy silenced him with an
+autocratic finger.
+
+"I do not think, Skinner, I know. Had it not been for your damnable
+cipher message, Murphy would have got your warning ashore instead of
+being forced to go back to the ship for it. Having got it ashore he
+would have taken care to warn the Brazilian authorities and they would
+have been on watch and prevented the ship from leaving. As I view the
+situation, Mike went aboard, deciphered your message and got ripping
+mad. Von Staden and Ulrich were probably aboard, and hot-headed Mike
+probably undertook to throw them overboard single-handed--and failed.
+His body is doubtless feeding the fishes in Pernambuco harbor this
+minute, and our lovely--big--_Narcissus_--the pride of--the Blue Star
+fleet--"
+
+"Shall I tell Captain Peasley?" Mr. Skinner faltered.
+
+"Yes, tell him. He's bound to find out sooner or later. Skinner, I could
+stand the loss of the ship, but what breaks me all up is the thought
+that after forty years of honorable business my friends and my enemies
+might suspect me of being a filibuster. I, Alden P. Ricks, whose
+great-grandfather died at Yorktown, whose grandfather was killed at
+Lundy's Lane, whose father won a medal of honor at Chapultepec--I,
+Alden P. Ricks, who had to belong to the Home Guard because I was such
+a little runt they wouldn't take me in the Civil War--to think that I
+should attain to seventy years and even be suspected of staining the
+flag of my country for the sake of a few dirty dollars--after all the
+Ricks blood that has been shed for that flag! Horrible!"
+
+Mr. Skinner turned away for, man and boy, he had spent twenty-five years
+under Cappy Ricks, and he loved him. He could not bear to see the old
+man suffer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+When Michael J. Murphy returned to consciousness he found himself in his
+berth, although for all the effort he made to verify this fact it might
+have been Mr. Reardon's. For fully half an hour he lay there, gradually
+straightening out the tangle in his intellect, and presently he was
+aware that the back of his head was very sore and ached, so he put up
+his hand to rub it and found a lump as large as a walnut. His right
+shoulder was numb and he was unable to move it, although this would not
+have surprised him had he been aware that a hundred and eighty pounds
+of Teutonic masculinity had landed on that shoulder with both feet and
+dislocated it. As it was, the skipper wondered vaguely if the ship's
+funnel had fallen over on him. His right side ached externally, and when
+he sighed it ached internally. That was a broken rib tickling his lung,
+for, while he was in blissful ignorance of the reason therefor, the
+chronicler of this tale can serve no good purpose by concealing the true
+facts in the case. Immediately upon regaining consciousness, Herr August
+Carl von Staden had insisted upon returning Michael J. Murphy's kicks
+with compound interest.
+
+"Holy mackerel!" the skipper murmured. "I feel like I've been fed into
+a concrete mixer. The only injury I can account for is my left shoulder,
+where that supercargo shot me."
+
+After spending another half hour in mild speculation on these phenomena
+he was aware of an added impediment in breathing, so he put his hand
+up to his nose and found it clogged with blood. His luxuriant black
+mustache prevented an extended examination of his upper lip, but
+nevertheless, something told him it was split. A hard foreign substance
+lying between his right cheek and the inferior maxillary he concluded
+must be the pit of an olive left over from dinner. Subsequently,
+however, he discovered it was one of his own teeth. So he swore a mighty
+oath and felt considerably better.
+
+"This is certainly mutiny on the high seas and punishable by hanging,"
+he soliloquized. "I wonder if Cappy Ricks would know me now;" and he
+reached up to turn the switch of the electric light over his berth.
+He turned the switch, but the light did not come on, and while he lay
+considering this state of affairs, he was aware that something that was
+not his head was throbbing in the ship. He decided presently that it was
+her engines. From the steady rhythmic pulsations he realized the vessel
+was being driven full speed ahead; and since he could not recall having
+given any orders to that effect, he was not long in arriving at the
+correct answer to the riddle--whereupon Michael J. Murphy did what
+every shipmaster does when he loses the ship he loves and finds himself
+ravished of his reputation as a sane and careful skipper. He wept!
+
+Those who know the breed will bid you beware the Irish when they weep
+from any cause save grief or sympathy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Cappy Ricks, who claimed to know Mike Murphy's kind of Irish, doubtless
+would have been extremely gratified had he been granted a peep at the
+battered, bleeding, weeping wreck of his faithful Michael as the pride
+of the Blue Star fleet rolled south to meet the grey sea rovers of the
+Fatherland and deliver the cargo of coal that meant so much to them. The
+sight might have aroused some hope in Cappy's heavy heart, he being by
+nature inconsistent and always seeing a profit where others found naught
+but a deficit. However, though Cappy was variously gifted he was not
+a clairvoyant, in consequence of which he spent a very sleepless night
+following the receipt of that windy cablegram from the American consul.
+He dined at his club, and when it was time for him to leave and his
+daughter sent her car for him, he lacked the courage to go home and face
+his son-in-law. So he spent the night at the club and came down to the
+office about noon, hoping Matt Peasley would have recovered from the
+shock by that time. The latter was waiting for him, and came into
+Cappy's sanctum immediately to hold a post-mortem.
+
+"Matthew, my dear boy," said Cappy miserably, "this is terrible."
+
+"I think we should take the matter up immediately with the State
+Department," Matt replied. "There may be a United States warship in
+those waters, and she could be instructed by wireless to endeavor to
+intercept the _Narcissus._ We can prove a clean bill of health with
+those cablegrams, and get back our ship."
+
+"Yes--from our own Government, of course. But, oh, Matt, if old Johnny
+Bull ever gets his horns into her we can kiss her good-bye. We can't
+bring forward any evidence to alibi that German crew on a ship so far
+off her course and loaded with contraband."
+
+"Well, I know if I were skippering a British warship and picked up the
+_Narcissus,_ her owners would find I was born and bred in Missouri," the
+honest Matt admitted. "By the way, have you read this morning's papers?"
+
+"No, Matt. I've felt too blamed miserable about this _Narcissus_
+affair."
+
+"Well, the _Scharnhorst_, the _Gneisenau_, the _Leipzig,_, the _Dresden_
+and the _Nurnberg_ met a British fleet under Admiral Craddock, away down
+off Coronel, Chile. The British were cleaned for fair."
+
+"You don't tell me!"
+
+"I do tell you. And I'll bet my immortal soul that German fleet is
+heading for the entrance to Magellan this minute. If I were a religious
+man I'd be praying for clear weather so they'll find the entrance
+without any trouble."
+
+"I hope they run ashore and drown every man Jack!" cried Cappy fiercely.
+
+"I do not. You will note that our charterers tried to induce Mike to go
+to Montevideo for orders. That was because they expected to lie snug at
+Montevideo and be within striking distance of a designated meeting place
+in the South Atlantic when the German fleet should pass through Magellan
+from the Pacific. Remember that for several weeks the German fleet has
+managed to lose itself in the Pacific, but now that the British fleet
+has stumbled onto it and forced an engagement, the Australian and
+Japanese cruisers will all be headed for the south coast of Chile to
+make reprisal. We know the Germans are short of coal; doubtless some of
+the fleet have suffered in the engagement with Admiral Craddock's
+ships, so it's a safe bet they'll run into the Atlantic now and raid the
+Falkland Islands--by the way, a British possession. They will hope to
+find coal and stores there, which, with the cargo of the _Narcissus,_
+will enable them to continue raiding.
+
+"Of course they will try to accomplish this before England sends a fleet
+to avenge Craddock--and I'm hoping the Germans will succeed, for, if
+they do, they will surely be decent enough to run our _Narcissus_ into
+some South American port and give us an opportunity to get her back
+again. On the other hand, if the Germans delay their departure from the
+Pacific, the British will surely get wind of the _Narcissus_ waiting at
+Montevideo; and when she comes out they'll just naturally grab her."
+
+"I guess you're right," Cappy replied gloomily; "so for the present
+we're pro-German. Still, I find that a hard dose to swallow, in view of
+the fact that our German crew in the _Narcissus_ has evidently taken the
+vessel away from Mike Murphy."
+
+"I am sure they have done just that, sir; otherwise Mike would have
+obeyed our orders. We know he received the orders; hence the only reason
+he did not carry them out was because he wasn't permitted to do so. My
+only hope is that they haven't killed him, for if he is alive and free,
+he and Reardon, with the assistance of the cockney steward and the two
+Chinese cooks, might--"
+
+"Might what?"
+
+"Might steal her back again."
+
+"Matt! It isn't possible, is it?"
+
+"I'll bet Mike Murphy and I could steal her back if we had half a
+chance. The odds would be forty to two against our succeeding, but a
+little strategy is sometimes to be preferred to great horsepower. I
+think I could do it, and I think Murphy will do it--if he only thinks of
+it."
+
+"How? Tell me how you'd steal her back."
+
+"What's the use?" Matt replied wearily. "I'd have to have help. So will
+Mike--and I've just remembered Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon are the
+wrong kind of Irish to have together in the same ship. We did our best
+to prevent it, but the odds are too long for us; the coal is for the
+Germans and we hate England, so why worry? I know Mike Murphy will not
+take that view of it; for my sake he'll fight to the last gasp, but he
+must have help, and Reardon owes me no such allegiance as Murphy."
+
+"Well, he owes me something," Cappy spoke up. "You promised him a
+hundred and seventy-five dollars a month and I raised the ante to two
+hundred. It was an investment, pure and simple. I was buying loyalty,
+and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I think I'll get it. Come to think
+of it, there was a look in Reardon's eyes that I liked, when he took my
+hand in those greasy paws of his and said he was a proud man to work for
+me. Matt, that fellow is full of bellicose veins. He may not fight
+for me, but he'll fight for Mrs. Reardon and the children and that
+two-hundred-dollar-a-month job, for it's the first he's ever had and
+if he loses out it'll be the last he'll ever get. He was telling me all
+about his family and how much the job meant to him, that day we had the
+_Narcissus_ out on her trial trip."
+
+Matt Peasley's face brightened. "By Jupiter, that puts a different face
+on the situation. If Reardon is alive they might get together for mutual
+protection."
+
+"Well," Cappy piped up, greatly relieved to discover Matt was facing the
+tragedy so optimistically, "we might do worse than hope. Wire the State
+Department, Matt; and in the meanwhile, cheer up, sonny, and trust in
+the luck of Alden P. Ricks. I remember Captain Noah Kendall--peace to
+his ashes--used to say to me: 'Mr. Ricks, if you ever fell into Channel
+Creek at low tide you'd come up with a pearl necklace wrapped round your
+ankle, and you'd be smelling like a spray of lemon verbena.' Cheer up,
+Matt! What though the cause be lost, the _Narcissus_ is not lost--yet.
+The Celtic troops remain, and from now on my war cry is going to be--"
+
+"Ireland uber Alles," Matt Peasley suggested.
+
+"You're blamed whistlin'!" said Cappy Ricks.
+
+So Mr. Skinner was called into consultation, and he and Matt Peasley and
+Cappy drew up a heart-rending telegram to the Secretary of State,
+who consulted with the Secretary of the Navy, who wired the Blue Star
+Navigation Company that he was sorry but he didn't have as much as a
+rowboat in the South Atlantic to save their steamer _Narcissus,_ and
+would they please keep still about it, since a noise like that, unless
+absolutely based on facts--and he understood their wail to be based on
+suspicion--would tend to create additional friction in an international
+complication already strained to the breaking point. Whereupon Cappy
+Ricks flew into a rage and immediately dictated a long letter to his
+congressman and his senator, urging them to battle to the last trench in
+the campaign for a two-power navy.
+
+Time passed. Then suddenly the world rocked with the news of the
+annihilation of the German Pacific fleet off the Falkland Islands. Cappy
+Ricks and Matt Peasley read the horrid tale in the morning papers as
+they sat at breakfast, and immediately both lost all interest in food.
+Like two mourners about to set out for the morgue to identify the corpse
+of a loved one recently killed by a taxicab, they drove down to the Blue
+Star offices, where immediately upon arrival something terrible in Mr.
+Skinner's face brought on palpitation of Cappy Ricks' heart.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he chattered, "Have you any news?"
+
+"Not yet, sir," murmured Mr. Skinner brokenly, "but soon! The British
+consul wants you to ring him up. He says he's had a wireless from
+H.M.S. _Panther,_ off the Falkland Islands, and he thinks it will be of
+interest to you."
+
+"Is my _Narcissus_ confiscated?" Cappy and Matt cried in chorus.
+
+"I--I don't know," Skinner faltered. "I just didn't have the courage to
+pursue the matter further. The British consul said she was captured but
+as for con--"
+
+"Idiot! Bonehead!" rasped Cappy. "My _Narcissus_ is gone--gone! Oh,
+Lord! Matt, you ring up the British consul--I'm an old man--Skinner, my
+dear chap, forgive my harsh language. Have you a little drop of whisky
+in the office?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Capt. Michael J. Murphy's futile tears of rage having dried almost as
+quickly as they came, he crawled painfully out of his berth and lighted
+a match, to discover he was a prisoner in his own state-room. He turned
+another electric switch, but still the room remained in darkness.
+
+"Sneaking out of Pernambuco with the lights doused," he soliloquized.
+Then he remembered a little stump of candle he kept in his desk for use
+when heating sealing wax, so he lighted the candle and by its meager
+rays took inventory of his features in the little mirror over his
+washstand.
+
+"By the Toe Nails of Moses," he soliloquized, "somebody's sea-boots did
+that, and if I ever find out who was wearing them at the time there'll
+be a fight or a footrace. I'm a total wreck and no insurance--yes, thank
+God! here's the ship's medicine chest."
+
+Having spent the greater portion of an adventurous career far
+from medical aid in time of bodily stress, Michael J. was, as most
+shipmasters are, rather adept in rough-and-tumble surgery. His compact
+little library contained a common-sense treatise on the care of burns,
+scalds, cuts, fractures and the few minor physical diseases that sailors
+are heir to, and in accordance with immemorial custom he, as master of
+the ship, was the custodian of the medicine chest. So he washed the gore
+from his face, disinfected his split lip and patched himself up after
+a fashion. The bullet wound in his left shoulder proved to be a flesh
+wound, high up, so he cleaned that and decided his left wing would be
+in fair fighting order within a few days. Then he undressed and said his
+prayers, with a special invocation for help from his patron saint,
+holy Saint Michael, the archangel. Evidently Saint Michael inclined a
+friendly ear, for it is a curious fact that no sooner had his namesake
+risen from his marrow bones than a curious sense of peace and comfort
+stole over him. As in a vision he saw Herr August Carl von Staden
+standing on the bridge, bound at ankle, knee and hand and with a rope
+round his neck. From the supercargo's neck the rope led aloft through a
+small snatch-block fastened to the end of a cargo derrick and thence to
+the drum of the forward winch--a device which had been known to hoist
+with a jerk objects several tons heavier than Herr August Carl von
+Staden! This picture thus conjured in Murphy's imagination was so real
+he was almost tempted to recite the litany for the dying!
+
+"'Twould have been better for them had they killed me dead and hove my
+carcass overboard," he decided. "The fact that they didn't, but took the
+trouble to carry me to my own bed and lock me in, is proof that they'll
+not murder me now--so I'll not worry. I'll have every beer-drinking,
+sausage-making son of a seacook begging me for mercy before the week is
+out. I'll just lie low and rest up a bit, and by the time we're off Rio
+I'll drop on them like a top-mast in a typhoon. Then with the help of
+the two Chinamen, the steward and Reardon 'twill not be hard to run her
+into Rio. I wonder if that pirate frisked me of my five thousand." He
+searched through his clothing and was amazed to discover that the bills
+were still in his possession.
+
+"I'll give them back in the morning," he concluded. "I had a pistol in
+the drawer of my desk and a rifle in that locker;" and in the wild hope
+that his luck still held, he searched eagerly for both. They were gone.
+
+Nevertheless, Michael J. Murphy smiled as he wrapped a wet towel round
+his throbbing head, for he had already decided upon his plan of campaign
+for regaining command of his ship, a _coup_ for which he required no
+weapon more formidable than his native intelligence. As he sank groaning
+into the arms of Morpheus, however, even a Digger Indian would have
+realized that for the next two weeks the master of the _Narcissus_ would
+be unable to defend himself against an old lady armed with a slipper.
+Nevertheless, the indomitable fellow, with the amazing optimism of
+his race, had already decided to attack and subdue, within four
+days, thirty-six husky male enemies; which lends some color to the
+oft-repeated declaration that an Irishman fights best when he is on his
+back with his opponent feeling for his windpipe.
+
+When Michael J. Murphy awoke it was broad daylight and Herr August
+Carl von Staden was standing over him. The supercargo was clad in an
+immaculate suit of white flannels and was looking as fresh as new paint.
+
+"Can it be possible?" Murphy queried in amazement. "Upon my word, friend
+pirate, I had flattered myself I'd tucked you away for a couple of days
+at least."
+
+"The excellent Mr. Henckel tells me I was out for ten minutes from
+that solar-plexus blow you landed," Mr. von Staden replied in tones of
+mingled admiration and friendliness. "And of course you cannot see how
+sore my ribs feel. I take it rather ill of you to have kicked me."
+
+"Kicked you! I wish I'd killed you! And, speaking of kicks, somebody
+certainly kicked me. Who was it?"
+
+"Upon recovering consciousness," the supercargo replied with some
+embarrassment, "I was overcome with fury. You were lying on the floor of
+your stateroom, where Mr. Schultz and Mr. Henckel had hurriedly tossed
+you--so I came in and kicked you."
+
+"I never kicked you in the face," Murphy complained.
+
+"No, but you flattened my nose with your code book."
+
+"Well, I'll admit a good smack on the nose does make a man mad. But
+you shot me in the shoulder. By the way, do your lungs hurt when you
+breathe, Dutchy?"
+
+"No. Do yours?"
+
+"A slight tickle. I think you caved in my super-structure. Who jumped on
+me from the top of the house?"
+
+"The second mate."
+
+"He dislocated my shoulder. I can wiggle my fingers, so I know it isn't
+a fracture. Suppose you take off your shoe, sit at the foot of my bed,
+put your foot under my right armpit and press, and at the same time pull
+on my right arm."
+
+"Delighted, I'm sure," declared Herr von Staden in his charming Oxford
+accent, and forthwith snapped Michael J. Murphy's shoulder into place
+with great dexterity.
+
+"Thank you," the skipper answered, and wiped the beads of agony from his
+white face. "If you'll frisk my trousers over there on the settee you'll
+find the five thousand dollars you gave me to sell out my owners. I
+don't want it. I never intended to keep it. I was suspicious of you and
+your confounded cablegrams, and I had to have a reasonable excuse to go
+ashore and cable my owners for confirmation. The bribe furnished that
+excuse. I suppose you thought I'd fallen for your game."
+
+"I must confess your attitude completely deceived me."
+
+"Thanks for the compliment. And now, if you don't mind, suppose you
+tell me something: Was it a German agent who put the bug in my ear about
+hiring the crew of that interned German liner in San Francisco?"
+
+"I greatly fear it was," von Staden answered smilingly. "There is an
+old man who presides over the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation
+Company--"
+
+"You mean Cappy Ricks?"
+
+"I believe that is the name. He has a reputation for being at once the
+most reckless spendthrift and the most painstaking money saver in the
+world. He is always preaching economy--"
+
+"And well I know it. If he hadn't preached it, Captain Peasley would
+never have stood for this rabble your friends wished on me."
+
+The supercargo chuckled. "We wanted the largest vessel we could find,"
+he explained; "and when it was reported to us that the Blue Star
+Navigation Company's _Narcissus_ was going from San Francisco to the
+West Coast and thence to New York with nitrate, we decided to get her.
+We investigated you. Your name is Michael J. Murphy; naturally we knew
+you were Irish; and the Irish--your kind of Irish--are not sympathetic
+toward the cause of Merry England. The same held true of your chief
+engineer, Mr. Reardon. We knew of the passion of this interesting
+person, Cappy Ricks, for cutting down expenses. We knew you and Reardon
+were new to your jobs and would be likely to consider any reasonable
+plan for eliminating expense in your respective departments, in the hope
+of pleasing your employer. So the suggestion that you ship our people
+was made to you and Reardon, and you accepted it with alacrity. The rest
+was very easy. We got in touch with your New York agents through some
+friends of ours in very good standing there, and they were enabled to
+charter the ship merely by offering an extraordinary freight rate. They
+purchased the cargo of coal and sold it to us at a nice profit, and we
+depended on your national animosity and racial sympathy, seasoned with a
+liberal cash subsidy, to enable us to deliver it. We preferred to do
+the decent thing, but in the event that you proved unreasonable, we
+concluded it would be wise to have our own people aboard and take the
+vessel away from you. I admit we tried to trick you with the cablegrams.
+Why attempt to conceal the fact now? That was unsportsmanlike. However,
+if the fat is in the fire, as you Americans would say, you have put it
+there by forcing my hand."
+
+"Very cleverly done," quoth Michael J. Murphy. "I always admire brains
+wherever I find them."
+
+"Men in my line of endeavor are trained to provide for all conceivable
+emergencies, captain. I think I provided for all of them in the case
+under discussion. Who, for instance, would conceive that you would
+have taken the trouble to call upon the American consul for the
+cipher message that has caused all this unpleasant row and facial
+disfigurement?"
+
+"You have read the translation, of course?"
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"It is self-explanatory. You intend delivering my cargo somewhere
+off the south coast of Uruguay. May I be pardoned for expressing some
+curiosity as to your plans thereafter, my piratical friend?"
+
+"Please do not call me your piratical friend."
+
+"Well, you're a pirate, aren't you?"
+
+"Legally--yes. Morally--no. In times of national necessity one's
+patriotism--one's duty to one's country--excuses, in the minds of all
+fair men, the commission of acts which ordinarily would bring about the
+deepest condemnation. I assure you that if we had had the faintest hope
+of doing business in a businesslike way with your owners, we should have
+been happy to pay almost any price for their ship, for she carries ten
+thousand tons of coal; and you surely must realize, Captain Murphy,
+how limited is the number of ships suitable for our purpose under the
+American flag. We were desperate--"
+
+"I believe Bethmann-Hollweg said something of the same nature with
+regard to Belgium," Murphy replied blandly. "A nation fighting for its
+life is a law unto itself, eh?"
+
+"Self-preservation is the first law of human nature," the supercargo
+replied.
+
+"All right. Then we understand each other. While I decline to terminate
+the war between August Carl von Staden and Michael Joseph Murphy,
+nevertheless under the law you have just cited I believe I'm entitled
+to breakfast. I'm starved. I figured on having supper ashore last night,
+but after I received that cablegram from my owners I forgot all about
+food. Now I'm remembering. I wish you'd send the steward in with about
+forty dollars' worth of spoon victuals. My grinders are very loose."
+
+"Captain Murphy," his jailer declared, "do you know you are a very
+wonderful man?"
+
+"All the Murphys are. It runs in the blood, like a wooden leg."
+
+"I really regret that you are such a wonderful man. If you were not
+I'd give you the liberty of the ship. As it is, I crave your pardon for
+keeping you a prisoner in your state-room. The exigencies of war, you
+know."
+
+"Don't mention it, Dutchy. For the second time I ask you: When you have
+delivered this cargo of coal, what do you intend to do with my ship?"
+
+"We will, in all probability, give you a new crew, and the present crew
+of the _Narcissus_ will go aboard one of our warships and thus remove
+themselves from the reach of a possible indictment for piracy and mutiny
+on the high seas."
+
+"Where will you get a new crew for me?"
+
+"Our fleet has sunk a few British tramps in mid-ocean during the past
+sixty days. Naturally they removed the crews first. These prisoners are
+in our way, and the admiral will welcome an opportunity to load them all
+aboard the empty _Narcissus_, for even prisoners of war must eat,
+and the stores aboard our fleet are more valuable than these captured
+seamen. In obedience to that first law of human nature they will not
+object to working the _Narcissus_ into the nearest South American port."
+
+"Well, that's comforting; but for heaven's sake don't be too much of a
+hog with my cargo. Leave me enough of it to carry my ship to the
+nearest port. She burns about thirty-five tons a day--you might get the
+statistics from Reardon."
+
+"By all means, captain. Our capture of the _Narcissus_ is merely
+a deplorable national necessity. We would not lose her for you for
+anything."
+
+"How about a British cruiser picking her up before we make connections
+with your fleet?"
+
+Herr von Staden shrugged. "That," he replied, "would be the fortune of
+war."
+
+"It would look like the picture of misfortune to me. And how about the
+freight on this cargo you've stolen? Don't my owners get something out
+of this deal to help pay expenses? You're going to play as fair as you
+can with me, aren't you, Dutchy?"
+
+"By all means. However, you are evidently in doubt as to the real
+situation. Your charterers are responsible to your owners for the
+freight money. If they do not pay it Mr. Cappy Ricks can sue them. As
+for the cargo, we have not stolen it, since one cannot steal that which
+one owns. We paid cash for this cargo before you cleared from Norfolk,
+for our go-between would take no risks whatsoever."
+
+"I see. Well, I suppose I'll have to grin and bear it. By the way, don't
+forget to take back your blood money. It's in my trousers pocket."
+
+Von Staden was genuinely distressed. "Are you quite certain you want
+me to do that?" he queried. "Five thousand dollars is quite a sum for a
+poor sea captain to toss aside so contemptuously. Why not accept it as
+compensation for that broken rib, and that bullet I put through your
+left shoulder, the dislocated right shoulder, the loose teeth and the
+split lip? In fact, I am so certain five thousand dollars will not cover
+your personal injuries I am willing to be a sport and add something to
+the sum."
+
+Michael J. Murphy grinned--rather a horrible grin it was, owing to his
+swollen lip and jaw.
+
+"Dutchy," he said, "listen to me: All the money in the world couldn't
+make me be untrue to my salt. And if you have any lingering notion that
+I'm not going to collect a million dollars' worth of satisfaction
+for the way you've acted aboard my ship, I can only say that as a
+fortune-teller you'll never earn enough money to keep yourself in
+cigarettes. You say you have been trained to provide for all conceivable
+emergencies, so I'm advising you, as a friend, to brace yourself for the
+surprise of your life before you're a week older. Have you pondered the
+possibility of sudden death aboard the S.S. _Narcissus?_"
+
+"Certainly. Should we be overhauled by a British cruiser I should take
+a short cut to eternity. One naturally dislikes the thought of being
+hanged for a pirate. It would be a reflection on one's family. As for
+sudden death by violence at the hands of any member of the crew of this
+steamship, I should be willing to risk quite a sum of money that no such
+tragedy will be enacted."
+
+"Just why?"
+
+"Well, you'll be safe in this stateroom until I am ready to turn your
+command back to you, and a man with two shoulders in the condition
+of yours is hardly likely to try battering down this stout state-room
+door."
+
+"Correct. And I'm a trifle too thick in the middle to think of crawling
+through the state-room window."
+
+"And if," the supercargo continued, "you have any idea of calling the
+engine-room on that speaking tube and soliciting aid from Mr. Reardon,
+please be advised that for the present Mr. Reardon has been relieved
+from duty in the engine-room."
+
+"So you've got Reardon locked up, too?" Murphy queried. "Well! Well! I'd
+hate to think of being locked up and that man Reardon free. However, you
+need not have worried. I'd die before I'd ask that fellow for help--and
+he'd die before he'd give it."
+
+"So I understand from the first mate. However, I thought it prudent
+to guard against a temporary truce and an alliance for the common
+interest."
+
+"Dutchy," said the skipper, "you're pretty smart."
+
+Von Staden smiled most companionably. "I also took the precaution to
+remove some weapons from your apartment."
+
+"Take anything from me, Dutchy, except my honor, my pipe and tobacco,
+and my ship. Take any one of those four, however, and may the Lord
+have mercy on your soul. Please hand me that book entitled _Backwood's
+Surgery_ till I see what's good for a broken rib; then send the steward
+for my breakfast order. After that--well, after that you might make your
+will, Dutchy."
+
+"I did that in Pernambuco," the delightful Herr von Staden replied, "so
+your advice is wasted."
+
+He handed the skipper the book on surgery and went out, carefully
+locking the door behind him. He returned presently and stood beside the
+steward, who thrust his head through the state-room window and desired
+to know the captain's choice of breakfast.
+
+"A bowl of mush and milk, three soft-boiled eggs and a pot of coffee. No
+toast. Hurry!"
+
+When the steward returned with the order he was accompanied by Mr.
+Schultz, the first mate. The sight of the traitor threw Mike into a
+furious rage.
+
+"Mr. Schultz," he said ominously, "the things I'm going to do to you
+would make the devil blush."
+
+"So?" Mr. Schultz replied soothingly.
+
+"I'm going to hang von Staden. He's a pirate, and the rule of the Seven
+Seas is that a skipper hangs a pirate whenever he can lay hands on him.
+And you know me, Mr. Schultz. I'm a devil for etiquette aboard ship.
+As for you, you're only guilty of mutiny, so I'll content myself with
+tricing you up to the shrouds and flogging you with a cat soaked in
+brine."
+
+And so on, _ad libitum, ad infinitum_.
+
+Mr. Schultz was frankly mystified. Being a German, he did not understand
+the Irish, although in view of the fact that during the war he had room
+in his head for but one thing--the Fatherland--perhaps the skipper might
+have pardoned his mate the glance of contempt and utter disgust which
+the latter now bent upon him. Here was a man, Mr. Schultz told himself,
+who, having stipulated his price and struck a bargain, had demonstrated
+beyond cavil that he was not a gentleman, for he had refused to stay
+bought. More, he had basely attacked his benefactor.
+
+"So?" he repeated.
+
+"Out, you blackguard, and leave me alone!" Murphy yelled.
+
+"It iss an order dot I stay und see dot der steward shall mayg no
+conversations vatsoefer," Mr. Schultz declared firmly.
+
+"Verboten, eh?" sneered the skipper. He had once been to Hamburg, and
+naturally he had acquired the word most commonly used in the German
+language.
+
+"_Ja_," Mr. Schultz replied placidly, but with an air of finality that
+left no room for further argument.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+In the course of the afternoon, having chewed the bitter cud of
+reflection and reviewed his situation from every possible angle, Mike
+Murphy came to the conclusion that, for all Terence Reardon's religious
+backsliding, he might be fairly honest in money matters and possessed
+of a sense of loyalty where his owners' interests were concerned. Also,
+having found Herr von Staden bluffing in one instance it occurred to the
+captain he might be discovered bluffing in another--so he resolved to
+investigate. Accordingly at an hour when he knew Terence should be in
+the engine room he took up the speaking-tube at the head of his bed and
+blew into it. But no shrill whistle signalled his desire in the engine
+room, and though Michael blew until he was red in the face and his lips
+hurt him cruelly, reluctantly he came to the conclusion that Herr August
+Carl von Staden had the situation very well in hand and Terence Reardon
+in the latter's state-room under lock and key.
+
+He was right in one particular: von Staden had the situation very well
+in hand, but he did not have Terence Reardon under lock and key. Murphy
+had been balked in making connections with the unsuspecting Terence for
+the reason that a little ball of cotton waste had very carefully been
+tucked into the engine-room howler a few inches at the back of the
+whistle at the chief's end of the tube. Hence, in the event that one
+sought to whistle up the other, he merely wasted his breath. Having
+learned, on the very excellent authority of both men in the case, that
+they despised each other and were not on speaking terms, von Staden
+decided that the chance of Terence Reardon's listening to Michael
+J. Murphy's tale of piracy and mutiny was so vague as to be almost
+negligible. However, he was painstaking and careful in all things and
+never ran any unnecessary risks; consequently, just to be on the safe
+side, he had instructed the first assistant to plug the speaking-tube
+leading to the skipper's room. And in order to discourage the captain
+from, seeking an interview with the chief, von Staden had told the
+former that the chief was a prisoner.
+
+Mr. Reardon was too important a personage to be deprived of his liberty
+when nothing was to be gained by such action. If he could be kept in
+ignorance of the state of affairs aboard the _Narcissus_, he would
+continue to attend to business; if the worst came to the worst
+his friendship would be a better asset than his hatred. If he grew
+suspicious and demanded a showdown, Herr von Staden would give it to him
+without reservation and stuff his mouth with gold; then, if the chief
+declined to listen to reason, it would be time enough to lock him up.
+While the supercargo would not hesitate to sacrifice his life, his
+liberty, or his honor for his country, he was nevertheless desirous of
+being a gentleman if accorded the opportuniby. And it must be admitted
+he had found Mr. Reardon amusing and vastly entertaining, for the very
+first night aboard, after Mr. Schultz had introduced him to the chief
+and he had presented the latter with a good cigar, Mr. Reardon, under
+the spell of the witchery cast by the sea and the night, had sat on
+deck and told the German wonderful tales of the fairies in Ireland--this
+while the skipper was ashore. In particular he told von Staden the tale
+of the fairy queen with the iron hand.
+
+"Her hand," said Terence, "was as beautiful as ye'd find in a day's
+thravel, an' 'twas herself that'd dhrive men crazy afther wan look at
+her. An' she was good to the poor, but divii a bit av love did she have
+for a redcoat. Whin she'd take human form an' a bowld buck av a British
+dragoon would come making love to her, 'tis herself would say to him:
+'Captain, alannah, would ye oblige me wit' a dhrink av wather?' An'
+whin he turrned to dhraw the wather, she'd breathe on her hand--like
+that--an' immejiately 'twould turn to iron an' wit' wan blow she'd knock
+his brains out. Sure they found the bodies all over Ireland, but divil
+a man, woman, or child could they ever convict av the murrder. For why?
+Why, sure, the minute she'd killed a redcoat she'd breathe on her hand
+ag'in, an' immejiately 'twas flesh an' blood ag'in!"
+
+No, decidedly it would not do to imprison this excellent fellow. Von
+Staden had read fairy tales as a boy, but never had he met a man who
+could tell them like Terence Reardon. A hard-headed, highly intelligent
+chief engineer of a big tramp steamer telling tales of the fairies! Von
+Staden couldn't understand it. It was so childish--and yet there was
+nothing childish about Terence Reardon. The German wondered if Terence
+Reardon believed in the fairies and finally he asked him point-blank if
+he did; whereupon Terence turned a solemn eye upon him and replied:
+
+"Why, av course I do not. Do you think I'm a blubber-jack av a bhoy? But
+isn't it pleasant to talk about thim whilst wan has nothing betther to
+do? Sure, whin I'm lonely at night I think up new fairy tales to tell to
+the childhren whin I come home from a v'yage."
+
+So that was the Irish of it! Strangely enough it did not occur to the
+practical German that an individual with an imagination like that,
+on such an expedition as the present, was the most dangerous person
+imaginable to be given the freedom of the ship.
+
+So passed twelve days and nights. Mr. Schultz kept in his pocket the key
+to the captain's state-room, and consequently was always present when
+the little cockney steward brought the prisoner his meals, tidied up the
+state-room and made up the captain's bed. The captain spent most of
+his time lying on his uninjured side and remained very quiet, for the
+fractured rib, which had received no attention, was causing him a great
+deal of suffering. Neither did the bullet wound in his shoulder heal
+cleanly, for the reason, unknown to the captain, that the bullet had
+carried with it into the muscle a fragment of Michael J.'s undershirt.
+
+However, his physical sufferings were as nothing compared with those
+he experienced mentally. He had hoped to be in fair fighting condition
+within a week at the latest. Wrapped in paper and tucked away in the
+back of the ship's safe he had a silver-hilted stiletto he had taken
+away from a cutthroat who had tried to rob him once in Valparaiso--and
+with this weapon he had planned to cut away the lock on the state-room
+door. And once outside--
+
+What Michael J. Murphy did not know was that when one has dislocated
+one's shoulder one will do very little wood-carving during the three
+subsequent weeks. It almost broke the skipper's heart to think he had
+made a threat in good faith, and was balked from making it good.
+
+During this entire period Mr. Reardon was going about his duties as
+usual, in absolute ignorance of the state of affairs about the ship, for
+he was an innocent, trustful sort of fellow, and to a born romanticist
+like Terence the fairy tale which Mr. Schultz had spun at breakfast
+the morning after leaving Pernambuco was not at all difficult of
+assimilation. It appeared--according to Mr. Schultz--that the skipper
+had gone ashore for a night of roystering, and upon returning to
+the ship about midnight, in a wild state of intoxication, had become
+involved in an altercation with the launchman over the fare. In the
+resultant battle the skipper, in his helpless condition, was being
+terribly beaten by the vicious Pernambucan; hence one could scarcely
+blame him for drawing a pistol and shooting the launchman--fatally,
+according to Mr. Schultz. Of course, after that, to have lingered longer
+inside the three-mile limit would have been sheer insanity, so Mr.
+Schultz, taking matters into his own hands, had uphooked and skipped
+with doused lights from the jurisdiction of the Pernambuco police.
+
+"And how did the skipper come out of all this?" Mr. Reardon had inquired
+anxiously.
+
+"He iss in rodden shape," Mr. Schultz had declared. "Von of hiss angles
+vos brogen, und he vos cut mid a knive--preddy deeb, but noddings to
+worry aboud. Der only drouble iss der dooty of navigading der shib falls
+double on der segond mate und me."
+
+"Make him pay ye over-time out av his own wages, the wurthless
+vagabone!" Mr. Reardon had urged. "May he walk wit' a limp for the
+rest av his days--bad cess to him! I've a notion, Misther Schultz, that
+lad'll never comb his hair grey."
+
+Mr. Schultz nodded lugubriously; then he glanced up and caught the
+little cockney steward staring at him so balefully, that he realized he
+must have speech in private with the steward. Consequently he lingered
+at table until Mr. Reardon finished his breakfast and went below;
+whereupon Mr. Schultz intimated to the steward, in his direct blunt
+fashion, that for the remainder of the voyage, Riggins--for that was
+the steward's name--was to consider himself deaf, dumb and blind; the
+penalty for reconsideration within the hearing of Mr. Reardon being a
+swift and immediate excursion, personally conducted by Mr. Schultz, to
+Davy Jones's locker! Following this earnest exhortation, Riggins, never
+a robust person mentally or physically, came abruptly to the conclusion
+that this was one of those occasions where silence, if not exactly
+golden, was at least to be preferred to great riches.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+IT may appear strange that during the days and nights Michael J. Murphy
+lay on his bed of pain Terence Reardon did not once pass the little
+open window of the skipper's state-room. Not, however, that the latter
+watched for him, for he did not. He believed that Reardon, like himself,
+was a prisoner; although, had the chief passed the window and had the
+captain observed his passing, the complacence of Herr von Staden and his
+patriotic company would have received a jar much earlier in the voyage.
+
+Unfortunately, however, for Murphy's plans, the chief's stateroom was
+located in the after part of the house and on the side opposite the
+skipper's, and following their brief spat through the speaking-tube,
+Terence Reardon had confined himself exclusively to his engine-room
+and that portion of the ship along which he must of necessity pass when
+going to and from his state-room. He told himself it was the part of
+wisdom for one of his ferocious temper to avoid the occasions of sin.
+Certainly it would be hard to pass the skipper's state-room without
+looking in, particularly since in these warm latitudes the door would
+probably be open; for should the skipper be within at the time, they
+would peradventure scowl at each other, and he is a fool indeed who
+cannot foretell the future when a thousand generations of natural
+enemies exchange "the black look." Terence remembered his boy Johnny, a
+youth who, according to Mrs. Reardon, should never be a marine engineer,
+but the finest lawyer that ever pouched a fat fee. And there was Mary
+Agnes and Catherine Bertram. Next year they would begin taking piano
+lessons, and in the fullness of time, no matter how hard the pull, both
+should go to the state university and acquire the education made to fit
+their father's head, but by force of circumstances denied him. And
+at the thought Terence looked at his hard black hands and set himself
+resolutely to face a life sentence of rattling ash hoists, roaring
+furnaces and the soft sucking sounds of the pistons. Two hundred dollars
+a month--and the union scale was a hundred and fifty! Ah, no, he dared
+not trifle with that job. He must, at all hazard, avoid friction with
+the skipper, for what would Mrs. Reardon say if Cappy Ricks forced
+him to roll the bones with Mike Murphy--one flop and high man out? Mr.
+Reardon could close his eyes and see Mike Murphy roll out a "stiff,"
+while with trembling hand the Reardon rolled five sixes!
+
+The _Narcissus_ had been out of Pernambuco harbor four days before
+Mr. Reardon, upon comparing the sun--which all are agreed rises in
+the east--with the direction in which the ship was headed, and then
+extracting the cube root of the resultant product, and subtracting it
+from the longtitude and latitude of the Cape of Good Hope, decided that
+there must be something wrong with Mr. Schultz's navigation. So he spoke
+to Mr. Schultz about it, and was laughingly informed that they were
+traveling on a great circle. Thereupon Mr. Reardon remembered that at
+sea a ship traveling on the arc of a great circle, for some mysterious
+reason repudiates the old geometrical theorem that a straight line
+is the shortest distance between two points. He recalled that vessels
+plying between San Francisco and Yokohama describe a great circle which
+brings them well up toward the Aleutian Islands, So he was satisfied
+with the explanation, this being his first voyage into the South
+Atlantic anyhow; but he continued to observe the sun each morning, and
+still the vessel's head held far to the south. A suspicion that all was
+not as it should be slowly settled in Mr. Reardon's head, and though
+he said nothing, he used his ejes and ears. A dozen times a day, as the
+ship rolled steadily south, he was tempted to take down the speaking
+tube and confide his suspicions to the master, confined in his
+state-room by reason of deep--but not serious-knife wounds. Each time
+he was on the point of yielding, however, he remembered that Mike Murphy
+had called him a renegade--so he refrained.
+
+The installation of the wireless plant and the presence aboard the ship
+of Herr von Staden had failed to arouse his suspicions the first day
+out. True, the wireless could not have been connected with the electric
+light plant below without Mr. Reardon's knowledge and consent, but when
+he asked Mr. Schultz about it the latter replied that Cappy Ricks must
+have changed his mind about installing wireless on the _Narcissus_, for
+he had cabled to the agents of the charterers in Pernambuco to have
+a wireless plant and a competent operator waiting for the vessel upon
+arrival. It was Mr. Schultz's opinion that the owners had evidently
+arrived at the conclusion that it was wise to have a wireless aboard
+during war times. Personally, Mr. Schultz approved of the innovation.
+
+So did Terence Reardon, for that matter. He found the new wireless
+operator a charming fellow, possessed of talents far superior to those
+of the young men who ordinarily pound the brass at sea. Indeed, after
+the second day out, Mr. Reardon would have been heartbroken had anything
+happened to that wireless. For Herr August Carl von Staden sat at the
+key almost continuously, eavesdropping on the war news, and Mr. Reardon
+never came to the wireless room that the operator did not have some news
+of an overwhelming British defeat!
+
+As the voyage proceeded, however, and Mr. Reardon's mind grew a trifle
+uneasy, reluctantly he began to view Herr von Staden and the wireless
+with apprehension. He asked the affable operator how much the Marconi
+company charged the _Narcissus_ for his services and the rental of the
+wireless plant, and von Staden, momentarily stumped, replied that the
+tariff was two hundred dollars a month; whereupon Reardon knew he lied,
+for the charge is one hundred and forty. The German, realizing instantly
+that he was not on the target, added: "That is, for a first-grade
+operator and a plant like this. Of course we furnish cheaper operators
+and less powerful plants, Mr. Reardon."
+
+"Oh! So that's the way av it?" the chief replied, and immediately went
+to his state-room for the purpose of thinking it over. Eventually he
+came to the conclusion that all was not as it should be, but that,
+nevertheless, it was no affair of his. He was paid to obey signals given
+him from the bridge.
+
+"'Tis no business av mine, afther all," he soliloquized. "For why should
+I be puttin' dogs in windows? He's paid to navigate the ship, an' didn't
+Cappy Ricks tell me to mind me own business? And yet, there's something
+wrong in this ship. I feel it in me bones."
+
+He felt it with a force that was almost violent when Mr. Schultz called
+down through the speaking-tube late one afternoon and told him to put
+her under a dead-slow bell. That meant they were practically heaving to,
+and steamers only heave to at sea in fine weather when they have reached
+a certain longitude and latitude and plan to keep an appointment. On the
+instant there was a strong odor of rat in Terence Reardon's engine
+room, but his "Very well, sir," contained no hint of his surprise and
+suspicion. He gave his orders to the firemen to bank the fires, and when
+this had been done he informed his engine-room crew that they might
+all go on deck for five minutes and get a breath of fresh air. Nothing
+loath, they scrambled up the steel stairway--and the instant the last
+man was out of earshot Terence Reardon sprang to the speaking-tube to
+whistle up the skipper in his room.
+
+Now, undoubtedly the cool and calculating Herr August Carl von Staden
+had been carefully trained to take into consideration, when planning his
+strategy, every conceivable contingency that might possibly arise. It is
+probable that the German secret service never turned out a more finished
+graduate than Herr von Staden; but the fact remains, nevertheless, that
+there are certain contingencies over which no human being has control.
+One of these is Newton's law of gravitation; another, an equally
+immutable law to the effect that water will seek its own level; a third,
+the vindictiveness of an outraged Irishman; and a fourth, the very
+natural tendency of any man, not excepting Mr. Terence Reardon, to be
+profoundly surprised and intensely curious when certain phenomena, which
+we shall now proceed to explain, take place in the engine room where he
+is chief.
+
+Michael J. Murphy, having only the day before again essayed the task
+of whistling up the engine room, and having, by reason of the ball of
+cotton waste with which the tube had been plugged by the first assistant
+engineer, again failed to receive the courtesy of a reply from any one,
+had, to put it mildly, been annoyed.
+
+"Very well, my bullies," he soliloquized as he hung up the tube, "you
+wouldn't speak to me when I wanted to speak to you; so now the first
+time one of you wants to speak to me I'll hand you a surprise, and
+I'll hand it to you right in the mouth." And forthwith Michael J. had
+carefully poured down the speaking tube the contents of the basin in
+which he had just made his morning ablutions! He longed to do something
+nasty, and he succeeded admirably.
+
+As we have already remarked, water seeks its own level. It ran down the
+speaking-tube until it encountered the cotton waste plug; whereupon, due
+to the hydrostatic pressure, the plug gave way and was forced down to
+the tightly closed mouth of the tube, and the suds backed up behind
+it. It was pretty warm in the engine room, and most of the water had
+evaporated by the time Terence Reardon took down the looped tube and
+opened it for the purpose of putting his lips to the mouthpiece and
+blowing heartily through it. However, there was about a gill of water
+left in the tube.
+
+Now, as everybody knows, water running down a slope of seventy-five or
+eighty degrees comes rather fast. Consequently Mr. Reardon had no time
+to dodge.
+
+Why be squeamish? He got a mouthful and was very nauseated for half a
+minute. Also he cursed, we regret to record, and was very, very angry.
+Carefully he drained the devilish tube, wiped it clean with some fresh
+waste, and racked his brain for the right thing to say to Michael J.
+Murphy. Finally he hit upon something he concluded would about fill the
+bill, so he put his lips to the mouthpiece once more and whistled up
+the skipper. To his surprise, however, his breath didn't seem to get
+anywhere: in fact, it was directed back in his face rather forcefully;
+so he investigated and discovered the mouthpiece was only half open.
+Upon endeavoring to open it fully he sensed an obstruction in the back
+of it, so he unscrewed the mouthpiece and drew forth a ball of dirty,
+sour-smelling cotton waste.
+
+He gazed a moment in speechless wonder. Then: "I'll whistle that dirrty
+Tomfool, until he answers me in self-defense," he announced'to the main
+motor, and forthwith blew a mighty blast. Almost instantly Michael J.
+Murphy yelled: "Hullo!"
+
+"Murphy," Terence Reardon announced calmly and very distinctly, "you're
+a contimptible dhrunken ape!"
+
+"Holy Moses! Reardon, is that you?" the astounded Murphy demanded.
+
+"It is-as you'll discover whin you're able to come on deck an' give me
+the satisfaction I'll demand for the dirrty dab av wather an' cotton
+waste you put in the tube, knowin' that the firrst time I took it down
+to spheak to you, ye blackguard, in the line av djooty--which is the
+only reason I would spheak to you--I'd get it full in the mouth. Ye
+dirrty, lyin', schamin', dhrunken murrderer!"
+
+He paused to let that stream of adjectival opprobrium sink in. Silence.
+Then:
+
+"I poured the contents of my washbasin in the tube, I'll admit, but
+I did not plug it with cotton waste. One of your assistants did that,
+chief, and as for the water, as God is my judge, I didn't intend it for
+you--"
+
+"Who else would ye be afther insultin' if it wasn't me? Are ye not
+friendly wit' me assistants?"
+
+"Forgive me, Reardon, and listen to what I'm going to tell you."
+
+And then the tale was told. When it was done Terence Reardon grunted.
+
+"I knew it!" he said. "I knew it! I felt in me bones there was something
+wrong aboard this ship. An' so ye were not dhrunk an' disordherly at
+Pernambuco?"
+
+"The liars! Did they tell you that? Reardon, it's only the mercy of
+heaven they didn't murder me. I'm lying here, helpless and crippled in
+my state-room, with the key turned in the lock. They've stolen my ship
+from me, and I can tell by the roll of her she's practically hove to
+under a dead-slow bell this minute. We've reached the rendezvous--we're
+waiting for the German fleet to deliver the coal; and oh, man, man,
+if we're caught by a British cruiser we'll lose the ship! They'll
+confiscate her, chief. Wirra! Wirra!" he cried, breaking into the
+forgotten wail of his childhood. "How can I ever face Matt Peasley and
+Cappy Ricks after this? Reardon, man, they'll think we stood in with
+the Germans and let them do it. We're both Irish--they know we're both
+pro-German--"
+
+"What's that you said?" Terence demanded sharply. "Me pro-German. Me? I
+_was_ pro-German--yis--wanst!"
+
+Fell a silence.
+
+Now, for the benefit of the uninitiated, be it known that there is
+a certain curse employed by the Irish and by no other race on earth.
+Whenever you hear an Irishman employ it, you know instantly--provided,
+of course, you are Irish yourself--just what kind of Irish that Irishman
+is. You cannot mistake it. There is no possible chance. It is only
+brought forth with the dust of the centuries on it, so to speak, to
+grace a fitting occasion. Terence Reardon felt that such an occasion
+was now at hand. As naturally, as inevitably, therefore, as the suds ran
+down the speaking-tube, that curse climbed up it--softly, distinctly,
+and with a wealth of feeling in the back of it:
+
+"God put the curse av Crummle on thim!"
+
+Mr. Reardon, of course, referred to the late Oliver Cromwell. Any one
+who has ever read the sorry history of Erin knows what the amiable
+Oliver did to the Irish. Consequently such an one will have no
+difficulty in estimating the precise proportions of bad luck Terence
+Reardon prayed might be the immediate heritage of the crew of the S.S.
+_Narcissus_.
+
+Michael J. Murphy blinked rapidly, for all the world as if Mr. Schultz
+had entered at that moment and struck him a terrific blow on top of
+the head. A more dazed Irishman than he never threw an ancient egg or
+a defunct cat at an alleged Celtic comedian with green whiskers. He
+was absolutely staggered--but not for long. The Irish come back very
+quickly.
+
+"Shame on you, Terence Reardon!" he declared. "And you with a Masonic
+ring on your finger."
+
+"Glory be!" cried the delighted Terence. "Sure are you wan av us?"
+
+"One of you!" Mike Murphy fairly shrieked. "The minute I'm out of this
+room you'll apologize or fight for thinking I'm a renegade."
+
+"_Naboclish!_" laughed Terence Reardon, slipping into the Gaelic and out
+again. "The divil a Mason am I! Sure that ring ye saw on me finger that
+day in the office av the owners belonged to me second assistant in the
+_Arab_. He'd lost it in the engine room, an' a mont' afther he'd left
+I found it. Not knowin' what ship he was in, 'twas me intintion to take
+the ring over to the Marine Engineers' Association an' lave it for him
+wit' the secreth'ry; and to make sure I wouldn't forget it I put it on
+me finger--"
+
+"Well, you knew, Terence, that with the likes of me round you'd not be
+liable to forget it," Mike Murphy laughed.
+
+"As for you, ye divil," Terence continued, "faith, what wit' yer English
+tweeds an' the fancy cut av thim, an' yer lack av the brogue an' the
+broad _a_ av ye, I thought, begorra, ye were a dirrty Far Down! God love
+ye, Michael, but 'tis the likes av you I'm proud to be ship-mates wit'."
+
+"But you said you were from Belfast, Terence."
+
+"So I am. I was borrn there, but me parents--the Lord 'a' merrcy on
+their sowls--moved back to Kerry."
+
+"Terence!"
+
+"What is it, Michael, me poor lad?"
+
+"Do you ever drink on duty? I don't mean with your superiors--"
+
+The chief chuckled. He knew what Murphy was alluding to.
+
+"I do," he replied, "wit' me equals."
+
+"'Tis a pity, Terence, that man Schultz has the key to my state-room
+in his pocket. Now if you could manage to tap that Dutchman on the head
+with something hard and heavy, take the key out of his pocket and throw
+him overheard, you could let me out of this purgatory I'm in. Then I
+wouldn't be surprised if the sight of me and the absence of Mr. Schultz
+would put a bit of heart in that little cockney steward--and maybe he'd
+bring a drink to hearten you for what's ahead of you this night."
+
+"An' what might that be, avic?" Terence demanded.
+
+"I want you to steal the ship back from them, Terence."
+
+"Very well, Michael. 'Tis not a small thing ye ask me to do, but the
+divil a more willin' man could ye find to ask. Have ye figured out the
+plan av campaign? Sure what wit' the suddenness av it all I'm all in a
+shweat wit' excitement."
+
+"You may be cold enough before morning, Terry, my boy."
+
+"Bad luck to you, Michael! Dyin' is wan thing I cannot afford to do,
+although be the same token they tell me ould Ricks has a kind shpot in
+the heart av him for the widow an' the orphan--particularly av thim that
+dies in his service! As I say, I cannot afford to get kilt, but in
+back av that ag'in I cannot afford to lose the best job I ever had.
+An' afther all, 'tis a poor man that won't fight for a fine, kind
+gentleman--"
+
+"Damn the fine, kind gentleman! It serves him right for letting us
+get into this fix. He can afford the loss of the ship, but you and I,
+Terence Reardon, cannot afford the loss of our honor and self-respect.
+For the sake of the blood that's in us we can't afford to let a lot of
+Dutchmen steal our ship and cargo."
+
+"Whist!" Reardon warned. "Hurry up. Me crew is comin' below ag'in."
+
+"Make it a point to pass by my state-room window after dark. You'll find
+a scrap of paper on the sill. Help yourself to it."
+
+"Faith, I will," Mr. Reardon promised fervently, and the tube closed
+with a click.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+TERENCE Reardon's preparations for the night's work began the instant
+he hung up the speaking-tube. The _Narcissus_ carried three assistant
+engineers, in consequence of which Mr. Reardon was not required to stand
+a watch unless he so elected; although from force of habit acquired
+in the days when he had been chief of the _Arab_--a little
+three-thousand-ton tramp--and perforce had to stand a regular watch,
+he found it very difficult not to spend at least eight hours in
+every twenty-four in the engine room. When, eventually, he came to a
+realization that his job was not to make the engines behave, but to see
+that they behaved properly, he spent more of his time on deck, and
+put in only a few hours below during the watch of the third assistant
+engineer--the third assistant being a young man in whom the chief
+reposed exactly that degree of confidence a chief engineer should always
+repose in a third assistant. Mr. Reardon, therefore, was at liberty to
+leave the engine-room whenever he felt so disposed; and following his
+illuminating conversation with the captain he felt very much disposed to
+leave immediately.
+
+He went first to his state-room, where he bathed, changed into new
+under-clothes and socks, donned a freshly laundered suit of faded
+dungarees--old, faded, well-washed dungarees, by the way, always
+appearing neater and cleaner than new ones--and shaved; for if
+Providence willed it that lie should die to-night. Mr. Reardon was
+resolved to be in such a highly sanitary condition that "those upon whom
+should devolve the melancholy duty of laying him out"--which phrase, in
+the Hibernian sense, means those who should dispose his limbs, close his
+eyes, tie up his black jowls with a towel and fold his hands--alas,
+so white in death, at last! across his still breast--might be moved to
+remark that, notwithstanding the nature of the deceased's vocation, they
+could not recall ever having seen a cleaner corpse.
+
+Having attended to his pre-dissolution toilet, Mr. Reardon next sat
+in at his littered desk, swept a space clear of tobacco crumbs, ashes,
+pipes and some old copies of the _Cork Eagle_, and sat down to write a
+farewell letter to his wife, hoping that, even though his enemies should
+slay him, yet would they have sufficient respect for the dead to mail
+that letter to Mrs. Reardon. And, in order that he might not anger his
+posthumous benefactors, he mentioned nothing of the state of affairs
+aboard the ship. He merely stated that she might never see him again, in
+which event she was to call upon the owners and ask them to invest for
+her the proceeds of his life insurance policy, since they could and
+would invest it to better advantage than she. Then he spoke of his grief
+at the thought of the children being forced to forego their college
+education and suggested that she ask Cappy Ricks to give Johnny a place
+in his office; also, should the owners offer anything as compensation
+for the loss of her husband, she was to accept it, for, as God was
+his judge, she would be entitled to it! This last sentence Terence
+underscored for emphasis; that was as close as he came to saying that
+if he died it would be in defense of his owner's interest. Then he
+commended her to the comfort of her religion and subscribed himself:
+"Your loving and devoted husband, Terence P. Reardon, Chief Engineer
+S.S. _Narcissus_."
+
+Having set his small affairs in order against a hasty exit from this
+vale of hatreds, Mr. Reardon, in unconscious imitation of all the
+condemned men who had preceded him on the voyage across the Styx,
+repaired to the dining saloon and partook of a hearty meal. He realized
+he had undertaken a contract that would require the employment of
+weapons more formidable than his hard fists, and devoutly he
+wished that, like the fairy queen, he had but to breathe on them to
+metamorphose them into pig iron. He pictured the slaughter aboard the
+_Narcissus_ when he should wade into the conflict. Finally he made up
+his mind that, in lieu of an iron hand or two, he would use his favorite
+monkey wrench, for he had no firearms whatsoever; although, had somebody
+presented him with a one-man machine gun with full directions for using,
+Mr Reardon would have recoiled in horror from it. Firearms were highly
+dangerous. They killed so many people!
+
+He left the table long before the others had finished. There was no one
+on deck as he emerged from the dining saloon, so he walked leisurely
+round past the captain's cabin, whistling the "Cruiskeen Lawn" to let
+Mike Murphy know who was coming. Evidently Michael assimilated the hint,
+for there was an envelope on the little window sill as Terence hove
+abreast of it. He snatched it swiftly away and continued round to his
+own state-room.
+
+The envelope contained Michael J. Murphy's plan for campaign worked out
+to the most minute detail, by reason of his absolute knowledge of the
+customs aboard the ship. Mr. Reardon read the remarkable document and
+sat lost in admiration; a twinkle leaped to his eyes and a cunning,
+rather deadly little smile came sneaking round the corners of his broad
+chin.
+
+"Arrah, but 'tis a beautiful schame," he soliloquized. "Who but that
+lad could have t'ought av it? An' here I've been shpendin' the past two
+hours borrowin' trouble."
+
+He read and reread the plan of attack, in order to familiarize himself
+with the details; then he held a match to the document and destroyed
+it. He considered a moment, and then performed a similar service to
+his farewell letter to Mrs. Reardon, for the chief engineer of the
+S.S. _Narcissus_, of San Francisco, had made up his mind not to
+die--to-night!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Mr. Schultz, the first assistant, and Mr. von Staden were engaged in
+coffee and repartee when Terence Reardon thrust his head in at the
+dining saloon window. He was mildly excited.
+
+"Be the Great Gun av Athlone!" he declared. "I've just been bit be a
+bedbug--an' I t'ought there wasn't a bedbug in the ship!"
+
+Mr. Schultz looked up, horrified. "Chieve," he said, "dot is rodden
+news. Bedbugs! _Ach!_"
+
+"An' well you may '_Ach_,' Misther Schultz. Let a colony av bedbugs move
+into the _Narcissus_ an' Terence P. Reardon will move out. There's
+only wan thing to do, Misther Schultz, an' that is to tackle the divils
+before we're overwhelmed be the weight av numbers. Have ye a bit av
+sulphur in yer shtore-room, Misther Schultz--the kind that comes in
+balls an' is used to burrn in shtate-rooms to kill bedbugs?"
+
+When Terence Reardon put that innocent query to the first mate he knew
+very well Mr. Schultz would reply in the negative--which he did--for the
+reason that Michael J. Murphy had privately informed Mr. Reardon
+that the little cockney steward, Riggins, had charge of the bedbug
+ammunition. Riggins, who had been standing with his back against the
+wall, eyeing Mr. Schultz sourly, now spoke up and said he had some
+sulphur.
+
+"More power to ye, Riggins!" Mr. Reardon declared heartily. "Then do ye,
+like the good lad, give me two or three balls av it. I'll burn them
+in me shtate-room to-night, wit' the door an' window locked, an' be
+morrnin' sorra bedbug will be left alive."
+
+"Very well, sir," Riggins replied. "Might Hi arsk, Mr. Reardon, where
+you hintend passin' the night?"
+
+"I'll shleep in me auld aisy-chair abaft the house an' next the funnel,
+where I'll be snug an' warrm," Mr. Reardon replied, for he desired an
+excuse to be on deck all night without arousing the suspicions of Mr.
+Schultz or von Staden.
+
+The steward, having finished serving those who ate in the dining saloon,
+stepped out on deck and started for his own room. Mr. Reardon remained
+by the window a minute, discoursing on the curse of bedbugs aboard a
+ship, and then with a sigh followed the steward leisurely. Mr. Schultz
+appeared undecided whether or not to accompany him in the capacity of
+censor, but finally concluded to remain and finish his coffee, for if
+Riggins had decided to enlighten the chief as to the real reason for the
+skipper's indisposition he had had frequent opportunity to do so during
+the past ten days. It did not seem likely, therefore, that he would run
+any risks at this late date. To Mr. Schultz, Riggins appeared to be
+a man who could be depended upon to remember which side his bread was
+buttered on and who supplied the butter.
+
+Arrived at the steward's state-room, Mr. Reardon helped himself to the
+entire box of bedbug exterminator and addressed Riggins very briefly:
+
+"Riggins, ye're a child av Johnny Bull, are ye not?"
+
+Riggins, without the slightest trace of embarrassment, admitted his
+disgrace.
+
+"An' bein' what ye are," Mr. Reardon continued, "would ye do somethin'
+av great binifit to England?"
+
+Riggins replied that inasmuch as he had lost two brothers at the Battle
+of the Marne, that ought to indicate bally well where the Riggins tribe
+stood on the subject of defense of the realm.
+
+"Good!" Mr. Reardon murmured. "Even if misguided in their pathriotic
+motives, shtill yer brothers were brave min, an' for that I respect
+thim. Now, thin, Riggins, ye rabbit, listen to me: In a momint av
+surpassin' innocince Captain Murphy an' mesilf swallowed a cute
+suggestion from a lad whose back I'll break in two halves whin the
+_Narcissus_ gets back to San Francisco. 'Why not save expinse,' says
+he, 'an' ship the crew av this German liner that's interned over in
+Richardson's Bay?' Riggins, to make a long shtory short, we have thim
+this minute, an' the dear God knows that even if shipped at the
+German scale av wages that gang'll prove a dear crew to the Blue Star
+Navigation Company if you an' I, Riggins, fail to do our djooty. They've
+half murdered the captain, shtolen the ship an' cargo from him, an' run
+her t'ousands av miles off her course to deliver the coal to the German
+fleet."
+
+"Oh, my bloody ol' Aunt Maria!" gasped the horrified Riggins.
+
+"What I want to know from you, Riggins, is this: Will ye help me
+shteal the ship back to-night? We're runnin' almost due south, an' that
+good-for-nothin' von Staden has been in communication wit' the fleet all
+day long. I feel it in me bones. If we get the ship back we'll head due
+west for the coast av South America an' hug the three-mile limit-an' the
+devil scoort them thin. Riggins, ye gossoon, what for the cause av Merry
+England? They wouldn't take ye for a gift in the British Arrmy, for I
+doubt if ye'd weigh ninety pounds soakin' wet an' a rock in yer hand,
+but for all that, here's an iligant opporchunity for ye to serrve yer
+counthry, an' should worrd av yer brave action reach the king--bad cess
+to him--he may call ye Sir Thomas Riggins an' make ye consul-general av
+the Cannibal Islands.
+
+"Out wit' it, Riggins. Yer king an' counthry calls ye, an' be the same
+token so do Michael J. Murphy an' Terence P. Reardon. What'll ye give,
+Riggins, to preserve the seas to Britain?"
+
+"Me 'eart's blood, that's wot!" Riggins replied quietly.
+
+"I accept the sacrifice in the name av His Majesty, King Jarge! Be on
+deck at ten o'clock sharp, waitin' close undher the shtarboard companion
+leadin' to the bridge. Whin I come out on the shtarboard ind av the
+bridge an' whistle 'O'Donnell Abu,' do ye--"
+
+"S'help me, chief, I never 'eard of the blighter before," Riggins
+interrupted.
+
+"God forgive me!" Mr. Reardon murmured _sotto voce_. "I'll have to do
+it. Well, thin, Riggins, whin I come out on the shtarboard ind av the
+bridge an' whistle 'God Save the King'--troth, I'll gamble that's one
+blighter ye've hearrd tell av--do ye run up into the pilot-house an'
+take the wheel. I'll not whistle until we have the deck to ourselves,
+wit'out fear av intherruption, an' ye must come quick an' take the
+wheel, else the vessel'll fall off into the trough av the sea an'
+commince to wallow--which same'll wake up the second mate an' bring him
+an' von Staden on deck to see what's wrong wit' her. An' until I'm ready
+to call on those lads I'm not wishful to have them call on me! Remimber,
+Riggins: Wan jump an' ye're into the pilot-house; then howld her head
+up to the sea--an' lave the rest to me. Gwan wit' ye now, or that skut,
+Schultz, will be gettin' suspicious av us."
+
+When Mr. Schultz came along ten minutes later he found Mr. Reardon very
+busy calking with oakum the cracks round the door and window of his
+state-room, through which little wisps of yellow smoke were curling.
+Mr. Schultz was so completely deceived that he hurried round to his own
+quarters and pawed over his own mattress and bedding in a vain search
+for bedbugs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+At eight o'clock Mr. Schultz relieved the second mate on the bridge,
+and five minutes later Terence Reardon, for the first time invaded that
+forbidden territory. "Bad cess to me!" he complained plaintively. "I'm
+the picthur av bad luck. I've a leaky connection below an' divil a bit
+av red lead. Could ye lind me a dab av red lead from yer shtore-room,
+Misther Schultz?"
+
+Mr. Schultz marvelled that any man could force his mind to dwell on red
+lead, leaky pipe connections, sulphur and bedbugs in a ship like the
+_Narcissus_ at a time like this. He had met a few innocents in his day,
+but this Irish engineer was most innocent of all.
+
+"Sure, Mike!" he replied, and grinned at his feeble play on words.
+"_Und_ as I gannot leave der bridge yet, here iss der key to der
+store-room. Helb yourself, mine _Freund, und_ den gif me der key back."
+
+"Ye addie-pated son of sin!" Mr. Reardon soliloquized as he took the key
+and departed. "Faith, a booby birrd has more sinse nor you! D'ye suppose
+I didn't wait until ye were on djooty before axin' ye, well knowin' ye'd
+lind me the key an' I'd be alone in yer shtore-room!"
+
+Mr. Reardon was in the store-room less than two minutes. When he emerged
+he carried a daub of red lead on an old spoon, as Mr. Schultz, looking
+down on the dimly lighted main deck, observed. What he did not observe,
+however, was the chief's action in tossing the spoon overboard the
+instant he passed beyond the range of Mr. Schultz's vision. It is
+probable, also, that the mate would have been disturbed could he have
+seen Mr. Reardon in his state-room, with the door locked, removing from
+beneath his dungaree jumper several fathoms of light, strong, cotton
+signal halyard, two five-foot lengths of half-inch steel chain, and a
+strip of canvas. His pockets also gave up two padlocks, with keys to
+fit. This loot Mr. Reardon very carefully hid in the space under
+his settee, after which, with due thanks, he returned the key to Mr.
+Schultz.
+
+The remainder of the evening until nine-thirty Terence spent in the
+wireless room with Herr von Staden. Then he retired, very low in
+spirits, to his state-room, to make his preparations for wholesale
+assault with a deadly weapon--possibly wholesale murder! He cut the
+signal halyard into short lengths; then he cut the piece of canvas into
+strips about two inches wide and secreted the halyard and canvas strips
+here and there about his person. Then he descended to the engine room
+and selected his monkey wrench from the tool rack on the wall, helped
+himself to a handful of cotton waste, and returned to his state-room
+mournfully keening "The Sorrowful Lamentation of Callaghan, Greally and
+Mullen, killed at the Fair of Turloughmore."
+
+"Wirra," he murmured presently, "but 'tis a terrible thing to hit an
+unsuspectin' man wit' a monkey wrench! An' that divil von Staden,
+for all his faults, is not a bad lad at all at all. An' I'd give five
+dollars--yes, seven an' a half--if he were bald an' shiny on any other
+shpot save an' exceptin' the shpot I have to hit him. Ochone!
+
+
+   "'Come tell me, dearest mother, what makes me father shtay
+    Or what can be th' reason that he's so long away?'
+   'Oh, howld yer tongue, me darlin' son, yer tears do grieve me sore,
+    I fear he has been murdhered in the fair av Turloughmore!'
+
+
+"Sure, I haven't got the heart to dhrive the head av this monkey wrench
+into that bald shpot. If he'd hair there I wouldn't mind." Mr. Reardon
+sighed dismally. "I'll have to wrap a waddin' av waste around me weapon,
+so I'll neither kill nor mangle but lay thim out wit' wan good crack--
+
+
+   "'It is on the firrst av August, the truth I will declare,
+    Those people they assimbled that day all at the fair,
+    But little was their notion that evil was in shtore,
+    All by the bloody Peelers at the fair av Turloughmore.'
+
+
+"I must practice crackin' the divils! Sure, 'twould be an awful thing
+to have the sin av murrder on me sowl--not that 'tis murrder to kill a
+Dutchman that's a self-confessed pirate into the bargain. Shtill, 'tis a
+terrible t'ought to carry to the grave--"
+
+Wham! Mr. Reardon brought his padded wrench down on his defenseless bed.
+"Too harrd," he told himself. "Sure a blow like that on top av the
+head would knock out the teeth av the divil himself! Less horse-power,
+Terence!"
+
+Wham! He tried it again, this time with better results. For five minutes
+he beat the bedclothes; then his spirits rose and, like the mercurial
+Celt that he was, he chanted blithely a verse from "The Night Before
+Larry Was Stretched":
+
+
+   "'Though, sure 'tis the best way to die,
+        Oh, the divil a betther a-livin'!
+    For sure whin the gallows is high,
+        Your journey is shorter to heaven;
+    But what harasses Larry the most,
+        An' makes his poor sowl melancholy,
+    Is to think av the time whin his ghost
+        Will come in a sheet to sweet Molly!
+            Oh, sure, 'twill kill her alive!'"
+
+
+He slipped the short, heavy monkey wrench up his right sleeve, walked
+out on deck and stood at the corner of the house, smoking placidly and
+gazing down on the main deck forward. The look-out on the forecastle
+head was not visible in the darkness, but Mr. Reardon was not worried
+about that. "For why," he argued to himself, "should I go lookin' for
+the skut whin if I wait a bit he'll come fluttherin' into me hand?"
+
+He did. At five minutes after ten Mr. Schultz hailed the look-out in
+German, and although Mr. Reardon spoke no German, yet did he understand
+that order. Mr. Schultz, a victim of habit, desired the look-out to go
+to the galley and bring up some hot coffee for him and the helmsman. It
+was the custom aboard the _Narcissus_, as it is in most Pacific Coast
+boats, for the cook, just before retiring, to brew a pot of coffee,
+drain off the grounds and leave it to simmer on the galley range where,
+at intervals of two hours during the night, the watch could come and
+help itself.
+
+Terence Reardon knew that the look-out, after heating the coffee and
+bringing a few cups up on the bridge, would return to the galley and
+partake of a cup and a bite himself.
+
+The man came down off the forecastle head, crossed the main deck and
+disappeared in the galley. In about ten minutes Mr. Reardon saw him
+climb up the port companion to the bridge; a minute later he came down.
+Mr. Reardon waited until he was certain the fellow was sipping his
+coffee in the galley; then with the utmost nonchalance he went up on the
+bridge and hailed Mr. Schultz, who was standing amidships blowing on a
+cup of coffee.
+
+"Begorra," he complained, "Divil a wink can I shleep to-night. I've been
+sittin' wit' the wireless operator all evenin', an' now, thinks I,
+he's weary listenin' to me nonsinse, so I'll go up on the bridge an'
+interview Misther Schultz. If I--be the Rock av Cashel! What was that?"
+
+"Vot? Vere?" Mr. Schultz exclaimed, and set down his cup of coffee.
+He was all excitement, for he had been looking for the flash of a
+searchlight for the past hour and he wondered now if the unsuspecting
+Reardon had seen it first.
+
+"Over that way." Mr. Reardon pointed off the port bow. "Did ye not see
+that light?"
+
+"A light. _Gott im Himmel!_"
+
+"Ye can't see it now," Mr. Reardon replied soothingly. He stepped round
+to the back of the mate and permitted his trusty monkey wrench to slip
+down into his hand. "But if ye continue to look in that direction,
+Misther Schultz, ye'll see not wan light but several."
+
+"_Donnerwetter!_ I gannot see dem," Mr. Schultz protested, wondering if
+there might not be some defect in his eyesight.
+
+"Have no fear. Keep lookin' that way an' ye'll see thim," Mr. Reardon
+reassured him. "Ha-ha, ye divil!" he crooned--and struck.
+
+"I'll gamble ye saw the lights I promised ye," he breathed into the ear
+of the unconscious mate as he deftly caught the falling body and
+eased it noiselessly to the deck to avoid calling the attention of the
+helmsman to the interesting tableau going on behind him. Quickly he
+gagged Mr. Schultz with a strip of canvas; then he tied his hands behind
+him and bound him at ankle and knee with the short lengths of signal
+halyard. As a final attention he "frisked" the mate and removed his keys
+and a heavy automatic pistol.
+
+"Lie there now, me jewel," he said, and trotted out to the starboard
+end of the bridge, whistling shrilly "God Save the King." When the swift
+patter of feet along the deck warned him that the steward was coming, he
+walked back amidships and opened the little sliding trap in the roof of
+the pilot-house, which on the _Narcissus_ was set just below the bridge.
+The quartermaster's head was directly beneath the trap. "Oh-ho, me
+laddybuck!" Mr. Reardon murmured, and dropped his padded monkey wrench
+on that defenseless head. Instantly the quartermaster staggered and hung
+limply to the wheel.
+
+"Bad luck to me, I'll have to hit ye agin," Mr. Reardon complained--and
+did it. Then he slid through the trap into the pilot-house, steadied the
+wheel with one hand and unlocked the pilot-house door with the other to
+admit the steward.
+
+"Strike me pink!" that astounded functionary exclaimed as he gazed at
+the quartermaster lying beside the wheel.
+
+"I will--if ye don't take howld av this wheel an' do less talkln'," Mr.
+Reardon replied evenly. "Bring her round very slowly, me lad, an' in the
+intherval I'll wrap up me little Baby Bunting on the floor forninst ye."
+
+When the quartermaster had been duly wrapped _a la_ Mr. Schultz and
+dragged clear of the wheel, Mr. Reardon returned to the bridge and with
+brazen impudence set the handle of the marine telegraph over to full
+speed ahead. He hummed "Colleen Dhas Cruthin Amoe" as with a light heart
+he skipped down to the galley and found the look-out eating bread soaked
+in coffee. Mr. Reardon nodded and said "Good nicht, _amigo_" for his
+voyages had taken him to many ports and he was naturally quick at
+picking up foreign languages. The fellow, concluding Mr. Reardon desired
+a cup of coffee also, turned to the rack to get him a cup.
+
+"How dare ye ate up the owners' groceries in this shameful manner?" Mr.
+Reardon demanded. "Do ye not get enough at mess that ye must be atin'
+between meals? Shame on you--"
+
+One tap did the trick. "'Tis a black way to repay a kind t'ought," Mr.
+Reardon observed to his victim as he bound and gagged him; "but war is
+war, an' a faint heart an' a weak stomach never shtole a ship back from
+forty German pirates!"
+
+He closed the galley door on the unfortunate look-out and climbed up
+on the boat deck to get Michael J. Murphy out of prison. Cautiously he
+unlocked the state-room door with the key taken from Mr. Schultz, and
+the skipper came forth. Mr. Reardon led him under an electric light and
+gazed upon him wonderingly.
+
+"Begorra, Michael, me poor lad," he whispered, "be the look av the white
+face of you I'm thinkin' ye ought to be in bed instid av out raisin'
+ructions."
+
+"I'm weak; I have a fever," Murphy replied. "Still, half that fever may
+be plain lunatic rage. Did you find a gun on the mate?"
+
+"I did. Take it, Michael, I'll have nothin' to do wit' it."
+
+The skipper grasped the weapon eagerly. "The ship is headed due west
+undher full speed," Terence explained, "an' the mate, the quarter-master
+an' the look-out have all received evidence av me affectionate regard.
+Next!"
+
+"Von Staden. He kicked me and broke my ribs, Terence."
+
+"Wit' the greatest joy in life, Michael. The skut's busy in the wireless
+room."
+
+So they went to the wireless room. Von Staden was taking a message as
+they entered; at sound of their footsteps he turned carelessly and found
+himself looking down the muzzle of the captain's automatic.
+
+"Will ye take it peaceably, ye gossoon, or must I brain ye wit' this
+monkey wrench?" Mr. Reardon queried fiercely.
+
+"And take your hand off that key, you blackguard. No S O S," Murphy
+ordered.
+
+The supercargo stared at them impudently. "This," he said presently, "is
+one of those inconceivable contingencies."
+
+"Your early education was neglected, Dutchy. However, don't complain and
+say I didn't give you warning. Terence!"
+
+"What is it, Michael?"
+
+"All well-regulated ships carry a few sets of handcuffs and leg irons.
+If you will put your hand in my right hip pocket, Terence, lad,
+you'll find a pair for present emergencies. They were in my desk and I
+concluded to bring them along."
+
+"An' a pious t'ought it was, Michael."
+
+So they handcuffed Herr August Carl von Staden and gagged him, after
+which Mr. Reardon, leaving the skipper to guard his prisoner, ran round
+to his own room and got the two lengths of chain and the padlocks. When
+he returned, Michael J. Murphy kicked his unwelcome supercargo to the
+mate's store-room and Mr. Reardon locked him in among the paint pots,
+pipe, old iron and other odds and ends which accumulate in a mate's
+store-room.
+
+They went next to the door of the forecastle. It was open--and, what was
+better, it opened inward. Also, it was of steel with a stout brass ring
+on the lock, this ring taking the place of what on a landsman's door
+would have been a knob.
+
+Terence Reardon and Michael J. Murphy listened. From within came a
+medley of gentle sighs, snores and the slow, regular breathing of
+sleeping men. Softly Mr. Reardon closed the door, turned the ring until
+the latch caught, drew a section of chain through the ring in such a
+manner as to prevent the latch from being released, passed the ends of
+his chain round the steel handrail along the front of the forecastle and
+padlocked them there.
+
+"Now, thin," Mr. Reardon announced, "that takes care av the carpenter,
+the bos'n, four seamen, two waiters an' the mess bhoy. Do ye wait here
+a minute, Michael, lad, whilst I run up on the bridge and give that
+unmintionable Schultz the wanst over."
+
+The weak, half-dead Murphy sat down on the hatch coaming and waited.
+The chief was away about ten minutes and the captain was on the point of
+investigating when Mr. Reardon appeared.
+
+"That unfortunate divil had come to, an' was lookin' an' feelin' cowld
+whin I wint up on the bridge," he explained, "so I wint to me room an'
+got a pair av blankets to wrap round him where he lay. It's wan thing
+to tap a man on the head, but 'tis another to let him catch his death av
+cowld."
+
+Captain Murphy smiled. Ordinarily he would have laughed at the whimsical
+Terence, but he didn't have a good laugh left in him. His lung was
+hurting, so he suspected an abscess.
+
+They returned to the boat deck, and with his rule Mr. Reardon carefully
+measured the exact distance between the ship's rail and the center
+of the doors of the state-rooms occupied by the mates and assistant
+engineers. This detail attended to, they went to the carpenter's
+little shop and cut two scantlings of a length to correspond to the
+measurements taken, and in addition Mr. Reardon prepared some thin
+cleats with countersunk holes for the insertion of screws. He worked
+very leisurely, and it was eleven o'clock when he had everything in
+readiness.
+
+"There's nothin' to do now until midnight, whin the watch in the ingine
+room is changed," Mr. Reardon suggested, "so lave us go to the galley.
+Wan av me brave lads is in there, an' if he's not dead intirely, faith,
+I'm thinkin' I might injoy a cup av coffee!"
+
+So they went to the galley and found the look-out glaring at them. He
+made inarticulate noises behind his gag, so Mr. Reardon, much relieved,
+found seats for each of them and poured coffee. Then he filled his pipe,
+crossed his right leg over his left knee and puffed away. He was the
+speaking likeness of Contentment. And well he might be.
+
+The first assistant engineer had been driving the _Narcissus_ for an
+hour at full speed at right angles to the course he believed she was
+pursuing. He would, being totally ignorant of the change of masters,
+continue to drive her at full speed until midnight, when he would come
+off watch, tired and sleepy, and go straight to his state-room. The
+second assistant would go direct from his state-room to duty in the
+engine-room and continue to drive the _Narcissus_ at full speed until
+four o'clock, and inasmuch as it would be quite dark still when the
+third assistant came on at four o'clock to relieve the engineer on
+watch, there was not the slightest doubt in the minds of Murphy and the
+chief but that the deception could go on until breakfast. However, that
+would interfere with their plans. Long before that hour the men locked
+in the forecastle would have discovered their plight, and the noise of
+the discovery might reach below decks and bring up, to investigate,
+just a few more husky firemen and coal passers than even the redoubtable
+Terence Reardon could hope to cope with successfully.
+
+"By four o'clock we'll be more than fifty miles off the course Schultz
+was holding her on," the captain suggested. "In all likelihood the
+German admiral wirelessed his last position and the course he was
+steering, and von Staden gave Schultz his course accordingly."
+
+"Faith, we're not a moment too soon at that," Mr. Reardon replied.
+"Schultz was lookin' for searchlights whin I tapped him. Be the Toe
+Nails av Moses ye're right, Michael. We'll be so far off that course be
+daylight they won't even see our shmoke. D'ye think that little handful
+av bones, Riggins, can manage the wheel until we've claned up the
+ingine-room gang? We can relieve him wit' wan av the Chinamen then."
+
+"Tell him he'll have to stick it out. And by the way, Terence, come to
+think of it, you had better run forward and remove the sidelights; then
+unscrew all of the incandescent lamps on deck until the contact is lost.
+You can screw them in again just before the watch is changed, so they
+won't suspect anything, and unscrew them again after we have the watch
+under lock and key. The fleet may be too far away to see our smoke by
+daylight, but they may be close enough to see our lights to-night! Tell
+Riggins to darken the pilot-house. The binnacle light is enough to keep
+him company."
+
+"Thrue for ye," Terence replied, and hurried away to carry out Murphy's
+instructions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+At twelve o'clock the second assistant engineer, hurrying along the deck
+to relieve the first assistant on watch, found Mr. Reardon leaning
+over the rail meditatively puffing his old briar pipe. In answer to the
+former's query as to what kept the chief up so late, the latter replied
+that he was burning sulphur in his room to kill bedbugs.
+
+"The good Lord forgive me the lie," he prayed when a few minutes later
+he was called upon by the first assistant, hurrying off watch, to repeat
+the same tale.
+
+The first assistant and his watch had a shower-bath and turned in. They
+were not interested in the workings of the deck department in the dark;
+they could not know that the vessel's course had been changed; they
+thought only of getting to sleep. Mr. Reardon waited until one-thirty
+A. M. to provide against possible sleepless ones, and then crept aft on
+velvet feet. The _Narcissus_ had very commodious quarters in her stern,
+where her coolie crew had been housed in the days when she ran in the
+China trade; and when the Blue Star Navigation Company took her over
+these quarters had been fitted up to accommodate the engine room crew.
+In the same manner, therefore, that he had imprisoned the men of the
+deck department in the forecastle, Mr. Reardon now proceeded to imprison
+the men of the engine department in the sterncastle. This delicate
+mission accomplished, he went up top-side and measured the diameter
+of the ventilators, in order to make certain that the thinnest of his
+German canaries could not fly the cage via that difficult route. Having
+satisfied himself that he had no need to worry on this score, he made
+his way forward again.
+
+"Well, Michael, me poor lad," he announced as he rejoined the skipper,
+"I'll tell you wan thing--an' it isn't two. The crew av the _Narcissus_
+off watch at this minute will never come on watch ag'in--in the
+_Narcissus_."
+
+The skipper smiled wanly. "I'm sorry you must take all the risks and do
+all the work, Terence," he replied.
+
+"Gwan wit' ye, Michael. Sure if I had a head on me like you, an' a
+college edication in back av that ag'in, I'd be out playin' golf this
+minute wit' Andhrew Carnegie an' Jawn D. Rockefeller--ayther that, or
+I'd have been hung for walkin' away wit' the Treasury Buildin'."
+
+They discussed the remaining details of that portion of the ship
+cleaning still before them. "Remember, Terence," Mike Murphy warned the
+chief, "when the blow-off comes at four o'clock and the uproar commences
+fore and aft, we have the means to keep them quiet. I'll go forward
+and you go aft. When we threaten to throw burning sulphur down the
+ventilators and suffocate them, they'll sing soft and low!"
+
+Mr. Reardon chuckled. "An' Schultz t'ought I was afther bedbugs whin
+I asked the shteward for the sulphur," he replied. "Shtill an' all,
+Michael," he added, a trifle wistfully, "I could wish for a bit more
+excitement, considerin' the size av the job."
+
+"Don't worry, Terry, you may get it yet. I'm dizzy and weak, chief; I'm
+fearful I'll not be able to last out the night--and these Germans are
+desperate. Suppose we go forward now, while I'm able, and awaken Mr.
+Henckel. It's high time he relieved Mr. Schultz, and he'll be waking
+naturally if we let him oversleep much longer."
+
+The subjugation of Mr. Henckel was accomplished without the slightest
+excitement or bloodshed. Mr. Reardon rapped at his door and Mr. Henckel
+replied sleepily in German. The skipper and the chief merely lurked,
+one on each side of his state-room door, until he stepped briskly out;
+whereupon the captain jabbed him with the gun while Mr. Reardon shook
+the monkey wrench under his nose. Indeed, Mr. Reardon had the gag in the
+second mate's mouth even while it hung open in surprise. They bound him
+hand and foot, and Mr. Reardon picked him up and tucked him gently in
+his berth, for, as the chief remarked to him, he was as safe there as
+anywhere and far more comfortable, although Mike Murphy objected and was
+for putting him in the mate's store-room with von Staden, whom they had
+put in the dirtiest and most unwholesome spot aboard the _Narcissus_,
+for two reasons: In the first place, he had kicked Michael J. Murphy
+and shot him through the shoulder; and in the second place, he was the
+cleanest German and the most wholesome pirate they had ever seen,
+and they figured the contrast would annoy him. Mr. Reardon, however,
+objected to this plan. He argued that von Staden would be glad of Mr.
+Henckel's company, and was it not their original intention to keep that
+laddybuck von Staden in solitary confinement? It was. They closed the
+state-room door on Mr. Henckel, and left him to meditate on his sins
+while they repaired to the carpenter's little shop, to return to the
+boat deck presently with the scantlings and cleats Mr. Reardon had
+prepared.
+
+With the scantling the chief shored up the doors to the state-room
+occupied respectively at the time by the first and third assistant
+engineers; then he screwed the cleats into place at top and bottom, so
+the scantling could not slip. Not for worlds would he have used a hammer
+to nail them into place, for that would have spoiled the surprise for
+the objects of his attentions. Throughout the entire operation he was
+as silent as a burglar, although by way of additional precaution the
+captain stood by with drawn pistol.
+
+"Now thin, Michael," Mr. Reardon whispered as they pussy-footed away,
+"there are six fine Germans below in the ingine room, an' two Irishmen
+an' half an Englishman on deck. The Chinee cooks don't count, for sure
+the poor heathens would only get excited and turrn somebody loose if
+we asked them to do anything desperate. And, as ye know, wan good
+Irishman--and bad luck to the man that says I am not that--can keep a
+hundhred Germans from comin' up out av that ingine room. Go to yer bed,
+Michael, an' lie down until I call ye."
+
+"Better take this automatic," Murphy suggested, and showed him how to
+use it.
+
+But Mr. Reardon resolutely refused to abandon his monkey wrench,
+although he consented to carry the automatic to Riggins in the
+pilot-house. The estimable Riggins had been steering a somewhat erratic
+course, for he found it impossible to keep his eye on the lubber's mark
+while the bound quartermaster glared balefully at him from the floor.
+Indeed Riggins had been pondering his fate should that husky Teuton ever
+get the upper hand again; hence, when he found himself in a state of
+preparedness and was informed that he must stick by the wheel until
+relieved, the prospect did not awe him in the least. The present odds
+were counterbalanced by the strategic position held by the minority, and
+Riggins was content.
+
+On his way back to his state-room, there to rest until the final call
+to arms, Michael J. Murphy concluded it would be well to search the
+quarters of the second mate and Herr von Staden for contraband of war.
+So he did, with the result that he unearthed in von Staden's room the
+rifle and revolver which belonged to the _Narcissus_, and under the
+second mate's pillow he found another automatic pistol. He confiscated
+all three weapons by right of discovery, and hid the rifle in the
+galley, the last place anybody would think of looking for it.
+
+In the meantime Mr. Reardon proceeded further to strengthen his position
+by closing the port entrance to the engine room and shoring up the door
+with a stout scantling, cleated at top and bottom to hold it securely in
+place. Then he donned Mr. Schultz's heavy watchcoat, dragged round
+from the lee of the house the upholstered easy-chair Mrs. Reardon had
+insisted upon his taking to sea with him for use in his leisure moments,
+placed this chair on deck just outside the starboard entrance to the
+engine room, loaded his pipe, laid his trusty monkey wrench across his
+knee and gave himself up to the contemplation of this riot we call life.
+He resembled a cat watching beside a gopher hole. By half-past three
+o'clock he had finished figuring out approximately the amount of
+money Mrs. Reardon would have in the Hibernia Bank at the end of five
+years--figuring on a monthly saving of fifty dollars and interest
+compounded at the rate of four per cent. So, having satisfied himself
+that Johnny would yet be a lawyer and the girls learn to play the piano,
+Mr. Reardon heaved a sigh and reluctantly went to call Michael J. Murphy
+for the final accounting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+At ten minutes to four Mr. Uhl, the second assistant, a man of some
+thirty years and ordinarily possessed of a disposition as placid as that
+of a little Jersey heifer, ordered one of his firemen to go and call the
+watch to relieve them. Mr. Reardon, his monkey wrench firmly grasped in
+his right hand, knew that at exactly ten minutes to four Mr. Uhl would
+issue that order--so he was on the spot to receive the fireman as
+the latter came leisurely up the greasy steel stairway. As the fellow
+emerged on deck he paused to wipe his heated brow with a sweat rag
+and draw in a welcome breath of cool fresh air. He did not succeed in
+getting his lungs quite full, however, for Michael J. Murphy, lurking
+beside the door, thrust the barrel of his gun in the fireman's ribs,
+effectually curtailing the process of respiration practically at once.
+From the other side of the door the chief engineer stepped out and
+wagged his bludgeon under the fireman's nose.
+
+"_Ach!_" Mr. Reardon coughed, and grimaced pleasantly. "_Schmierkase und
+Sauerkraut_, ye big shtiff! _Vat wilse du haben_, eh? _Zwei bier?_ Damn
+the weather, as Misther Schultz would say."
+
+He laid his finger on his lips, enjoining silence; then with the same
+finger he pointed sternly onward, and the fireman took the hint. In the
+clear space aft the house and next to the funnel Mr. Reardon bound and
+gagged him and laid him tenderly on his back to await developments.
+
+"Now thin, Michael," he said to the skipper, "lave us go back an' see
+can we catch another. At four o'clock, whin this lad fails to return,
+Misther Uhl, the omadhaun, will sind up another man to see what the
+divil ails the firrst man."
+
+And it was even so. This time it was the oiler.
+
+At five minutes after four a coal passer came up the stairs, and he was
+swearing at the delay in being relieved. Something told Mr. Reardon this
+fellow would make trouble, so without warning he hit the coal passer a
+light rap "to take the conceit out av him." Two minutes later the coal
+passer had joined his fellows beside the funnel.
+
+At a quarter after four Mr. Uhl scratched his head and said something
+very explosive in German. He started up the stairs, got halfway up--and
+came down. It had occurred to him very suddenly that three men had
+already gone up the stairs and had failed to return. He called a fireman
+and gave him some very explicit orders in German; whereupon the man
+disappeared in the shaft alley. Five minutes later he returned, pop-eyed
+with excitement and the bearer of a tale that caused Mr. Uhl to arch his
+blond eyebrows and murmur dazedly "_So?_"
+
+Ten minutes passed. Mr. Reardon glanced interrogatively at Michael J.
+Murphy. "I think the divils are suspicious," he whispered. "We should
+have had another be now. Have a care now, Michael. Whin they come they
+come wit' a rush an'--"
+
+A pistol shot echoed through the ship. It came up from forward. Three
+more followed in rapid succession--a scream--a shout!
+
+"May the divil damn me!" Terence Reardon cried in a horrified voice. "I
+clane forgot the little companion hatch at the ind av the shaft alley.
+They've crawled down the shaft alley an' up on deck at the very sterrn
+av the ship!"
+
+He dashed aft towards the spot where his prisoners were laid out close
+to the funnel. As he turned the corner of the house he observed that the
+electric lamp which he had so carefully screwed out of its socket had
+been screwed in again, and by its light Terence beheld no less a person
+than Mr. Uhl cutting the halyards that bound the oiler. The fireman had
+already been cut loose, but the potent effects of Terence Reardon's blow
+with the wrench still remained; though conscious, the man was unfit for
+combat. The coal passer, evidently the first man to be rescued by Mr.
+Uhl, was standing by.
+
+"Gower that, ye divils!" Mr. Reardon shrieked, and charged, swinging his
+monkey wrench with all his horsepower. He missed his first stroke at
+Mr. Uhl, who very deftly stabbed him high up on the hip for his
+carelessness; then the chief swung again, and Mr. Uhl was out of the
+fight.
+
+Not so the big coal passer, however. He planted in Terence Reardon's
+face as pretty a left and right--hay-makers both--as one could hope to
+see anywhere outside a prize-ring; whereupon the chief took the count
+with great abruptness. The fireman reached for the monkey wrench--and at
+that instant the weak, pale-faced skipper lurched around the corner of
+the house and his automatic commenced to bark.
+
+It was not a time for sentiment. Michael J. Murphy glanced once at
+Terence Reardon's bloody, upturned face, and the glazed eyes thrilled
+him with horror. The chief engineer was dead! That meant that Michael J.
+Murphy would soon be dead, too. Well, they had fought a good fight and
+lost, so nothing now remained for him to do save slaughter as many of
+the enemy as possible and go to his accounting like a gentleman.
+
+He turned his back on the heap of bloody, prostrate men, stepped over a
+little rivulet of gore that ran rapidly toward the scupper as the
+ship heeled to port, then hesitated and started back as she heeled
+to starboard. He was vaguely conscious that Mr. Uhl had shut down his
+engines before coming on deck and that in consequence the ship had lost
+headway and was beginning to wallow. In his weak state her plunging
+caused him to stagger like a drunken man. As he crossed to the port side
+of the ship and gazed down the deck he noticed that the incandescent
+lamps had all been screwed back in their sockets, and by their brilliant
+light he beheld one of the firemen in the act of removing the scantling
+from before the first assistant's door. Just as the door swung open the
+captain fired, but evidently missed, for the man sprang nimbly into the
+state-room for safety.
+
+If the great European War has proved nothing else to date, it has
+demonstrated one comforting thing about the German people: one does not
+grow impatient waiting for them to carry the fight to him. The fireman
+had no sooner entered the first assistant's state-room than the first
+assistant came out. He was wearing his pajamas and a piece of young
+artillery, and without the slightest embarrassment he commenced shooting
+at Michael J. Murphy, who, not to be outdone in politeness while he
+could stand and see, promptly returned the compliment.
+
+The first assistant's first shot nipped a neat little crescent out of
+Mike Murphy's large red right ear; his second ripped clean through the
+inside of the skipper's left leg.
+
+"High and then low," was the thought that capered through Mike Murphy's
+brain. "God grant he don't get me through the middle! That's what comes
+of fast shooting--so I guess I'll go slow."
+
+The electric lamp over his head was shattered and the fragments
+scattered round him as he leaned against the corner of the house and
+took careful aim at the first assistant, who missed his next shot by a
+whisker and died in his tracks with two cartridges still in his gun.
+
+Dazedly Michael J. Murphy advanced along the deck, stepped over the body
+and entered the state-room. In the corner the fireman crouched, hands
+uplifted in token of surrender, so the skipper closed the door and
+shored it up again with the scantling. Mechanically he picked up the
+first assistant's huge revolver, broke it, removed the cartridges and
+threw them overboard. Then he slipped a clip of seven cartridges into
+his automatic and staggered round to Mr. Henckel's state room.
+
+The door was open. The bird had flown.
+
+Michael J. Murphy went in and sat down on Mr. Henckel's settee, for
+he was very weak and dizzy; and at least nobody could shoot at him in
+there. "Come, come, Michael," he croaked, "no going out this voyage. You
+have work ahead of you. Pull yourself together and let us count noses.
+Now then, there were two firemen, two coal passers, one oiler and Mr.
+Uhl on watch. Terence killed Mr. Uhl with the monkey wrench, I killed
+the big coal passer, I think I killed the oiler, and one fireman was out
+of the scrap from the beginning. Then I killed the first assistant and
+locked the other fireman in his room. That leaves Mr. Henckel and a coal
+passer to be reckoned with. Now there was some shooting up forward and
+somebody was hit. That means Riggins shot somebody or somebody shot
+Riggins. The second mate probably went forward to let the men out of the
+forecastle, while the fireman went aft to let the engine-room gang out
+of the sterncastle. They haven't had time to do it yet; they'll have to
+pry those rings out of the door with a crowbar. I'll go aft and drive
+the fireman forward; when I have them bunched I'll argue with them."
+
+He arrived at the break of the house and looked down on the deck aft.
+The lights had been turned on and a man was just raising a short crowbar
+to attack the door, from behind which came shouts and cries of anger and
+consternation.
+
+Mike Murphy rested his automatic on the deck rail and fired twice at the
+man in front of the sterncastle door. The fellow fled at once dashing
+along the deck, zigzag fashion, to distract the skipper's aim, and
+disappeared in the dark entrance to the starboard alleyway. So Michael
+J. Murphy slid down the companion and followed into the alleyway, firing
+two shots for luck as he came.
+
+Scarcely had he disappeared into the murk amidships when Terence Reardon
+rolled groggily down the companion after him. Terence had no means of
+ascertaining which alleyway the skipper had charged into--and he did not
+care. Blind with fury he lurched into the port alleyway; in consequence
+of which the fugitive, fleeing ahead of the captain down the starboard
+alleyway and thinking to turn down the port alleyway and double back to
+complete his labors at the sterncastle door, bumped squarely into the
+chief engineer.
+
+Mr. Reardon said no word, but wrapped his arms round the man and held
+the latter close to his breast.
+
+Thus for a moment they stood, gripping each other, each wondering
+whether the other was friend or foe.
+
+Then Mr. Reardon decided that even if his nose was bloody he could not
+possibly be mistaken in the odor of a fireman just come off watch. He
+had lost his monkey wrench in the _melee_ on the upper deck--the defunct
+Mr. Uhl having fallen upon it, thereby obscuring it from Mr. Reardon's
+very much befogged vision, but his soul was still undaunted, for Mr.
+Reardon, in common with most chief engineers still in their prime,
+firmly believed that he could trounce any fireman he saw fit to employ.
+He bit suddenly into the fireman's cheek just where the flesh droops
+in a fold over the lower jaw, and was fortunate enough to secure a
+grip that bade fair to hold; then he crooked his leg at the back of his
+opponent's and slowly shoved the fellow's head backward. They came
+down together, Mr. Reardon on top, content for once to hold his man
+helpless--and rest--while his enemy's shrieks of pain and rage resounded
+through the ink-black alleyway.
+
+Michael J. Murphy heard that uproar and halted. After listening a few
+seconds he came to the conclusion that a German was in deep distress,
+and that hence it was no part of his business to interfere. Besides, he
+had business of his own to attend to. He could hear a chain rattling
+up forward, and while it was too dark to see who or what was doing the
+rattling, he found Mr. Henckel guilty on mere suspicion, and fired
+at the sound; whereupon somebody said "_Ach, Gott!_" in tones of deep
+disgust, two little flashes of fire cut the dark, and two bullets
+whispered of death as they flew harmlessly down the alleyway.
+
+Instantly Mike Murphy returned the salute, firing at the other's
+flashes; then he fell to the deck and rolled over into the scupper to
+escape the return fire, which was not slow in coming.
+
+"I wonder where the devil he got that gun," was Murphy's comment. "Mr.
+Uhl must have had it in his pocket and lent it to him."
+
+There was profound silence within the forecastle, and pending the
+destruction of his attacker Mr. Henckel judged it imprudent to make any
+further attempts at a delivery. He required time to formulate a plan
+of attack, and in the interim he desired shelter. Mike Murphy heard the
+patter of feet, the patter ceasing almost as soon as it commenced--and
+he smiled grimly.
+
+"He's hiding," the captain soliloquized. "Now, where would I take
+shelter if I were in his fix? Why, back of the hatch-coaming, of
+course--or the winch." He had a sudden inspiration and called aloud:
+
+"Riggins! Riggins! Answer me, Riggins. This is Captain Murphy calling
+you."
+
+"'Ere, sir," came the voice of Riggins from the pilot-house above. The
+voice was very weak.
+
+"Climb out of the pilot-house, Riggins, to the bridge, turn on the
+searchlight and bend it down here on the deck till I get a shot at this
+scoundrel. Don't be afraid of him, Riggins. It's Henckel and he can't
+shoot for beans. Get the light fair on him and keep it on him; it'll
+blind him and he won't be able to shoot you."
+
+"The dirty dawg!" snarled Riggins wearily. "'E come up on the bridge
+a while--ago--an' I drove 'im off--but 'e plugged me, sir--through the
+guts, sir--an' me a married man! Wot in 'ell'll my ol' woman--say--"
+
+And that was the last word Riggins ever spoke. True, he managed to crawl
+out of the pilot-house and up the short companion to the bridge; he
+reached the searchlight, and while Mr. Henckel and Mike Murphy swapped
+shots below him he turned on the switch.
+
+"Bend it on the deck, Riggins. On the deck, my bully, on the deck,"
+Mike Murphy pleaded as the great beam of white light shot skyward and
+remained there; nor could all of Murphy's pleading induce Riggins to
+bend it on the deck, for Riggins was lying dead beside the searchlight,
+while ten miles away an officer on the flying bridge of H.M.S. Panther
+watched that finger of light pointing and beckoning with each roll of
+the ship.
+
+"Something awf'lly queer, what?" he commented when reporting it to his
+superior.
+
+"Rather," the superior replied laconically. "It can't be the Dresden
+and neither is it one of ours. We'll skip over and have a look at her,
+Reggie, my son."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Michael J. Murphy had two shots left in his automatic, and he was saving
+those for daylight and Mr. Henckel's rush, when a searchlight came
+nickering and feeling its way across the dark waters. Slowly, slowly
+it lifted and rested on the big blunt bows of the _Narcissus_, hovered
+there a few seconds and came slowly aft, and as it lighted up the main
+deck Mr. Henckel rose from behind the hatch-coaming.
+
+"_Deutschland uber Alles!_" he yelled joyously--and rushed.
+
+Terence Reardon, having pounded his firemen into insensibility, had
+crept down the port alleyway, and, unknown to Captain Murphy and Mr.
+Henckel, he had, from the opposite side of the deck, watched the flashes
+of their pistols as they fired at each other.
+
+"I'll have to flank that fella an' put a shtop to this nonsense," Mr.
+Reardon decided presently, and forthwith crept across the deck on his
+hands and knees until he reached the hatch-coaming. Mr. Henckel lurked
+just round the other corner of the coaming, so close Mr. Reardon could
+hear him breathing. And there the crafty chief had waited until Mr.
+Henckel rose for his charge--whereupon Mr. Reardon rose also.
+
+"Ireland upper always, ye vagabone!" he yelled, and launched himself at
+Mr. Henckel's knees. It was a perfect tackle and the second mate went
+down heavily.
+
+In an emergency such as the present all Terence Reardon asked was good
+fighting light. Fighting in the dark distressed him, he discovered, for
+while polishing off the fireman in the black alleyway he had missed one
+punch at the fellow's head, and had been reminded to his sorrow and the
+ruin of his knuckles, that the deck of the Narcissus was of good Norway
+pine. However, H.M.S. Panther was scarcely three cable lengths distant
+now, and the officer on her flying bridge could see that some sort of a
+jolly row was in progress on the deck of the Narcissus; so he kept the
+searchlight on the combatants while Mr. Reardon bent Mr. Henckel's back
+over the hatch-coaming, took his automatic away from him, and proceeded
+to take a cast of the mate's features in the vulcanite butt of the
+weapon. And vulcanite is far from soft!
+
+When Terence Reardon had completed his self-appointed task he stood up,
+hitched his dungarees, spat blood on the deck, and stood waving from
+side to side like a dancing bear. His face was unrecognizable; his
+dungarees, so neat and clean when he donned them the night before, were
+now one vast smear of red, and he grinned horribly, for he was war mad!
+
+"Next!" he croaked, and turned to the master for orders.
+
+But Michael Joseph Murphy was out of the fight. He lay prone on the
+deck, conscious but helpless, and because his broken rib was tickling
+his lung the froth on his lips bore a little tinge of pink. Only his
+eyes moved--and they smiled at Terence Reardon as the triumphant exiles
+of Erin faced each other.
+
+Terence Reardon turned and shook his battered fists full into the rays
+of the searchlight. He was magnificent for one brief instant; then
+the war-madness left him, and again he was plain, faithful, whimsical,
+capable, honest Terence P. Reardon, chief engineer of the S.S.
+Narcissus, who considered it a pleasure to discourse on the fairies when
+he had nothing more important to do. Now that the fight was over and the
+German fleet had overhauled them at last, he had time to think of Mrs.
+Reardon and the children and his best job gone for ever--tossed into the
+discard with his honor as a faithful servant.
+
+He sat down very suddenly on the hatch-coaming and covered his terrible
+face with his terrible hands.
+
+"Ah, Norah! Norah!" he cried--and sobbed as if his heart must break.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+When Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara, of H.M.S. Panther, boarded the
+steamer Narcissus via the Jacob's ladder Mr. Reardon hove overside
+at his command, he paused a moment, balanced on the ship's rail, and
+stared.
+
+"My word!" he said, and leaped to the deck, to make room for a
+pink-and-white middy. The pink-and-white one stared and said "My aunt!"
+Then he, too, leaped to the deck, and a stocky cockney blue-jacket poked
+his nose over the rail.
+
+"Damn my eyes!" said this individual. "'Ere's a bloomin' mess!"
+
+"Who is that person?" Captain Desmond O'Hara demanded, pointing to the
+semiconscious Mr. Henckel, who was moaning and saying things in his
+mother tongue.
+
+"That," said Mr. Reardon with a familiar wink, "was a fine, decent
+German until I operated on him!"
+
+"So I observed. And who might you be?"
+
+"Me name is Terence P. Reardon, an' I'm the chief engineer av the United
+Shtates steamer _Narcissus_, av San Francisco."
+
+"Ah! An Irish-American, eh?"
+
+Mr. Reardon looked down at the deck, smiled a cunning little smile and
+looked up at Captain O'Hara. "Well, sor," he declared, "I had me hyphen
+wit' me whin I shipped; as late as yestherd'y afthernoon 'twas in good
+worrkin' ordher; but what wit' the exertion av chasin' our Gerrman
+crew round the decks, faith I've lost me hyphen, an' I'm thinkin' the
+skipper's lost his too. That's him forninst ye. For the prisent he's in
+dhrydock awaitin' repairs, which leaves me in command av the ship.
+And since he's in no condition to go to his shtate-room an' unlock the
+ship's safe, an' sorra wan av me knows the combination, the divil a look
+will ye have at our papers. I'll save time an' throuble for us all be
+tellin' ye now that we've ten t'ousand tons av soft coal undher
+deck, that we cleared from Norfolk, Virginia, for Manila or Batavia,
+Pernambuco for ordhers, an' that we're a couple av t'ousand miles off
+our course. So confiscate the ship an' be damned to ye! Only I'm hopin'
+ye'll not be above takin' a bit av advice from wan who knows. There's a
+Gerrman fleet not far off, an' if ye shtop to monkey wit' us, faith ye
+may live to regret it--an' ye may not."
+
+Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara smiled sweetly. "Divil a fear," he said,
+in no way cast down. "We met the beggars off the Falklands yesterday
+and sunk them all but the Dresden. She slipped away from us in the dark,
+making for the mainland, and we were looking for her when we saw your
+searchlight cutting up such queer didos, so the Panther dropped behind
+to investigate. Had it not been for your searchlight we would have
+missed you."
+
+"An' be the same token a little dead Englishman signalled ye." Mr.
+Reardon gave another hitch to his dungarees. "Sor," he said doggedly,
+"I never t'ought I'd live to see the day I'd want to cheer a British
+victh'ry--but I do." He glanced down at his right hand and shook his
+head. "Englishmen that ye are," he continued, "I'll not offer ye a hand
+like that--much as I want to shake hands wit' ye."
+
+"Faith, don't let that worry you, Mr. Reardon. I'm not an Englishman."
+
+"In the divil's name, you're not an--an--"
+
+"I'm an Irishman! My name is Desmond O'Hara."
+
+Mr. Reardon was fully aware that here was a grand specimen of the kind
+of Irish he had been taught to despise--the Irish that take the king's
+shilling, the gentlemen Irish that lead the king's cockneys into battle.
+And yet, strange to say, no thought of that entered his head now. He
+stepped up to Captain O'Hara, looked round cautiously as if expecting to
+be overheard, winked knowingly and whispered, as he jerked a significant
+thumb toward the unhappy Mr. Henckel: "Sure 'tis the likes av us that
+can take the measure av the likes av thim."
+
+"It is," replied Captain O'Hara, and reached for Terry Reardon's awful
+hand. "It is!"
+
+Together they lifted Michael J. Murphy into a boson's chair, the jackies
+unslung a cargo derrick, Mr. Reardon went to the winch, and the skipper
+was hoisted overside into the _Panther's_ boat and taken aboard the
+warship for medical attention. Just before Mr. Reardon hoisted him he
+drew the chief's ear down to his lips.
+
+"About von Staden," he whispered. "I thought I wanted to see him hung.
+Legally he's a pirate; but, Terence, he was raised wrong; you know,
+Terence--_Deutschland ueber Alles_. These Dutch devils thought it was
+all right to steal our ship--national necessity, you know. Let von
+Staden out of the mate's store-room and tell him the English have
+us--that his fleet is gone. Then turn your back on him, Terence."
+
+Mr. Reardon followed orders. "Captain Murphy ordhered me to let ye out,"
+he explained to the supercargo, "an' towld me to turrn me back on ye."
+
+"Please thank him for me," von Staden replied gently. "I scarcely
+expected such kindness at his hands. You may turn your back now, Mr.
+Reardon."
+
+So Mr. Reardon turned his back, and, despite the rush of the British
+jackies to stop him, Herr August Carl von Staden reached the rail.
+"_Deutschland ueber Alles!_" he shouted defiantly--and jumped. He did
+not come up.
+
+Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara removed his cap. "They die so infernally
+well," he said presently, "one hates to fight them--individually.
+Yesterday the _Nuernberg_ fell to us. We outranged her, and when she was
+out of action and sinking, with her men swimming and drowning all round
+her, the _Panther_ was stripped of life preservers in two minutes. Some
+of my lads went overboard to help the Boche."
+
+Mr. Reardon remembered he had wrapped waste round the head of his monkey
+wrench and curtailed his indicated horse-power when tapping individuals;
+yet, when he fought them in bulk, with what savage joy had he struck
+down Mr. Uhl, a poor, inoffensive devil and the victim of a false ideal
+of national honor! Mr. Reardon was quite sure he despised Englishmen;
+yet the tears came to his eyes when the jackies carried poor little
+Riggins away from the searchlight, and he prayed for eternal rest for
+the soul of his late assistants, for he had learned in a night, as he
+fought with tooth and fist and monkey wrench, what those who fight
+with tongue and typewriter will never learn--that racial and religious
+animosities are just a pitiful human bugaboo--in bulk. Only that valiant
+minority that sheds its blood for the heartless majority can ever know
+this great truth--and the pity of it--that warriors never hate each
+other.
+
+They are too generous for that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Capt. Matt Peasley, with his heart in his throat, called up the British
+consul at San Francisco. Cappy Ricks, looking very pale and unhappy,
+sagged in his chair, while Mr. Skinner stood by, gnawing his nails and
+looking as if he would relish being kicked from one end of California
+Street to the other.
+
+"Hullo!" Matt Peasley began. Cappy Ricks shuddered and closed his eyes.
+"Is this the British consul's office?... This is Captain Peasley, of the
+Blue Star Navigation Company... Yes... About our steamer _Narcissus_...
+You say the consul is on his way down to our office... Thank you...
+Goodbye."
+
+Cappy Ricks sighed like an old air-compressor. "I hope I live till he
+gets here," he declared feebly. "Deliberate race, the British. No pep.
+Never get anywhere in a hurry."
+
+As if to give the lie to Cappy's criticisms, the British consul was
+admitted at that moment.
+
+"Gentlemen," he announced as the heart-broken trio gathered round him,
+"I have some very grave news for you." His voice was vaguely reminiscent
+of that of the foreman in a quarry who calls upon a lady to inform her
+that her husband has just been caught in a premature blast and that the
+boys will be up with the pieces directly. "Your steamer _Narcissus_,
+loaded with ten thousand tons of coal, has been captured a hundred miles
+north-east of the Falkland Islands by His Majesty's cruiser _Panther_.
+In view of your vessel's clearance--"
+
+A low moan broke from Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Tightwad!" he reviled. "Old Alden P. Tightwad, the prince of misers!
+He thought he'd add a couple of ten-dollar bills to his roll, so he
+encouraged his skipper to hire a lot of interned Germans to work his
+ships in neutral trade! He was penny-wise and pound-foolish, so he cut
+out the wireless to save a miserable hundred and forty dollars a
+month. Bids are invited for the privilege of killing the damned old
+fool--Skinner! What are you looking at?"
+
+"N-n-nothing!" stammered Mr. Skinner.
+
+"I won't be looked at that way, Skinner. I have my faults, I know--"
+
+"Ssshh!" Matt Peasley interrupted.
+
+"And I won't be 'sshh-ed' at either. I lost the ship. I admit it. I
+O.K.'d the charter, and Murphy did his best to save her for us and
+couldn't. I'm the goat, but if it busts me I'll reimburse you two boys
+for every cent you have lost through my carelessness--"
+
+"I beg your pardon, Mr. Ricks," the consul interrupted. "Pray permit me
+to proceed. The circumstances attending this case are so very unusual--"
+
+"My dear Mister British Consul, I shall not argue the matter with you.
+You're too bally deliberate, and, besides, what's the use? The ship is
+gone. Let her go. We'll build another twice as big. Of course I could
+give you an excuse, but if I did you'd think I was old Nick Carter come
+to life. We'll just have to take it up through our State Department,
+present our alibi, and try to win her back in the prize court."
+
+"She will never be sent to a prize court, Mr. Ricks. It doesn't require
+a prize court to decide the case of the steamer _Narcissus_. The
+evidence is too overwhelming. There could not possibly be a reversal of
+the decision of our admiral."
+
+Mr. Skinner sat down suddenly to keep from falling down. The consul
+continued: "The commander of the _Panther_, Captain Desmond O'Hara--by
+the way, an old schoolmate of mine--has sent me a long private report
+on the affair; by wireless, of course, and in code. It appears that in
+Pernambuco harbor your German crew overpowered the captain--"
+
+"What?" cried Cappy, Matt and Skinner in chorus. "You admit that?"
+
+"We do, Mr. Ricks. And last night your chief engineer, Mr. Terence
+Reardon, with the aid of the steward, one Riggins--a British subject and
+unfortunately killed in the affray--and Captain Murphy overpowered the
+German crew--"
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks!" gasped Skinner.
+
+"Oh, Matt!" shrilled Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Oh, Cappy!" yelled Matt Peasley.
+
+"Oh, nonsense," laughed the British consul. "They stole her back,
+gentlemen, and when Captain O'Hara found her rolling helplessly and
+boarded her, she was a shambles. Dead men tell no tales, Mr. Ricks--yet
+it was impossible for any fair-minded man to doubt the testimony of
+the dead men aboard your _Narcissus_! Her killed, wounded and prisoners
+formed a perfect alibi. In the meantime, Mr. Reardon and Captain
+Murphy are aboard the Panther, receiving medical attention, and will be
+returned to duty in a few weeks; the _Narcissus_ is proceeding to meet
+the other ships of our fleet. She will coal them at sea."
+
+"Then you've confiscated her cargo?" Matt Peasley demanded.
+
+"We should worry about the cargo if they give us back our vessel,"
+Cappy Ricks declared happily. "We haven't received our freight money,
+of course, but by the time I get through with the charterers they'll pay
+the freight and ask no questions about the coal."
+
+"We confiscated it, Mr. Ricks," the British consul continued, "for the
+reason that it was German coal. The supercargo who boarded the vessel
+at Pernambuco told your captain his people had paid cash for it to the
+charterers. But we're going to give you back your vessel because we
+haven't any moral right to keep her, since her owners have committed
+no breach of international law. The supercargo left fifteen thousand
+dollars behind him when he jumped overboard, but Captain O'Hara declined
+to confiscate that. At Captain Murphy's suggestion it will be forwarded
+to the widow of the man Riggins. Captain O'Hara especially requested
+that I call upon you and inform you that you have two of the finest
+Irishmen in the world to thank for your ship."
+
+"Thank you, Mister Consul. By the way, can you reach Captain O'Hara by
+wireless? If you can, I should be glad to pay for a message if you will
+send it."
+
+"I shall be delighted indeed."
+
+"Then tell him the Blue Star Navigation Company thanks him for the
+courtesy of his message, but that it does not agree with his statement
+that we have two Irishmen to thank for our ship. We think we have
+three! I know the Irish. The scoundrels never go back on each other in a
+fight."
+
+The consul laughed.
+
+"By the way," he said, as he took up his hat preparatory to leaving,
+"your ship is now equipped with wireless--a fine, powerful plant such
+as they use in the German Navy. The supercargo brought it aboard at
+Pernambuco."
+
+Matt Peasley, the Yankee, came to life at that. "Has that been
+confiscated, too?" he queried.
+
+"No, captain. However, we have confiscated that German crew of yours--"
+
+"Hallelujah!" yelled Cappy Ricks.
+
+"--and loaned you a crew of British seamen from the tramp _Surrey Maid_.
+The _Scharnhorst_ torpedoed her off the coast of Chile, and we found her
+crew on board one of the German transports when we captured them after
+the fleet was destroyed. You're all fixed up, from skipper to cabin
+boy--"
+
+"Wireless operator, too?" Matt Peasley cried.
+
+The consul nodded. "He's got a steady job," the youthful president
+declared, and turned to Cappy Ricks for confirmation of this edict. But
+Cappy, the pious old codger, had bowed his head on his breast and they
+heard him mutter:
+
+"O Lord, I thank Thee! All unworthy as I am, Lord, thou loadest me with
+favors--including a wireless plant, free gratis!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+Long after the British consul had departed Cappy Ricks sat alone in his
+office, dozing. Presently he roused and rang for Mr. Skinner.
+
+"Skinner," he said, "Matt reports that the late Riggins made an
+allotment of his wages to his wife when he shipped aboard the
+_Narcissus_?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Riggins's wages hereafter shall constitute a charge against the
+_Narcissus_ while Mrs. Riggins lives and while the Blue Star Navigation
+Company can afford to give up seventy dollars every month. Attend to it,
+Skinner. Another thing, Skinner."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"We ought to do something for Murphy and Reardon. Now then, Skinner,
+you've never had a chance to be a sport heretofore, but you're a
+stockholder in the Blue Star Navigation Company now, and as such I feel
+that I should not use my position, as owner of a controlling interest in
+the stock of the company, to give away the property of the company in
+an arbitrary fashion. So I'm going to leave it up to you, Skinner, to
+suggest what we shall do for them. I believe you will agree with me that
+we should do something very handsome by those two boys."
+
+"Quite so, sir, quite so. Well, to start off with, Mr. Ricks, I think we
+ought to pay their hospital bills, if any. Then I think we ought to give
+each of them a handsome gold watch, suitably engraved and with a small
+blue star--sapphires, you know--set in the front of the case."
+
+"You feel that would about fill the bill, eh, Skinner?"
+
+"Well, next Christmas I think we ought to give them each a month's
+salary."
+
+"Hum! You do?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I think that would be a very delicate thing to do."
+
+Cappy sighed. Poor Skinner! Victim of the saving habit! Decent
+devil--didn't mean to be small, but just couldn't help it. A
+bush-leaguer--Skinner. Never meant for big company--
+
+"In addition--" Skinner began.
+
+"Yes, Skinner, my boy. Go on, go on, old horse. Now then, in addition--"
+
+"It seems like the wildest extravagance, Mr. Ricks, but those men
+have fought for their ship and I--remember, Mr. Ricks, this is only
+a suggestion--I think it would be a very--er--tactful thing to do
+to--er--"
+
+"It'll choke him before he gets it out," Cappy soliloquized. Aloud he
+said: "Go on, Skinner, my dear boy. Don't be afraid."
+
+"At a time like this, when freights are so good and vessel property
+pays so well, it seems to me--that is, if you and Matt have no
+objection--that we ought to give Mike and Terence a--er--a little
+piece of the _Narcissus_--the ship--er--they
+love--say--er--a--ten-thousand-dollar interest--each--"
+
+"God bless you, Skinner! You came through at last, didn't you? The
+president emeritus agrees with you, Skinner, and it is so ordered.
+
+"Now skip along and wireless the glad news to Mike and Terence. Tell
+them when they have the coal out to proceed to Rio and load manganese
+ore."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+In due course Captain Michael J. Murphy and Mr. Terence Reardon came off
+the dry dock, the sole visible evidence of that unrecorded second naval
+engagement off the Falkland Islands being a slight list to starboard
+on the part of the Reardon nose, and a notch in Murphy's right ear. Mr.
+Skinner had had a local jeweler prepare the presentation watches against
+the day of the home-coming of the warriors of the Blue Star, and on
+a Saturday night Cappy gave a banquet to Mike and Terence, and every
+employee of the Ricks' interests who could possibly attend, was present
+to do the doughty pair honor and cheer when the awards for valor were
+duly made by Cappy and congratulatory speeches made by Mr. Skinner
+and Matt Peasley. It was such a gala occasion that Cappy drank three
+cocktails, battened down by a glass or two of champagne, and as a result
+was ill for two days thereafter. When he recovered, he announced sadly
+and solemnly that he was about to retire--forever; that nothing of
+a business nature should ever be permitted to drag him back into the
+harness again. Then he bade all of his employees a touching farewell,
+packed his golf clubs, and disappeared in the general direction of
+Southern California. He was away so long that eventually even the
+skeptical Mr. Skinner commenced to wonder if, perchance, the age of
+miracles had not yet passed and Cappy had really retired.
+
+Alas! On the morning of December 24th, Cappy suddenly appeared at the
+office, his kindly old countenance aglow like a sunrise on the Alps.
+Immediately he cited Mr. Skinner to appear with the payrolls of all of
+the Ricks enterprises and show what cause, if any, existed, why there
+should not be a general whooping up of salaries to the deserving all
+along the line. The Ricks Lumber & Logging Company had already declared
+a Christmas dividend; the accounts of every ship in the Blue Star fleet
+had been made up to date and a special Christmas dividend declared, and,
+in accordance with ancient custom, Cappy had appeared to devote one
+day in the year to actual labor. Christmas dividend checks and checks
+covering Christmas presents to his employees were always signed by him;
+it was his way of letting the recipients know that, although retired, he
+still kept a wary eye on his affairs.
+
+He had writer's cramp by the time he finished, but while the spending
+frenzy was on him he would take no rest; so he seized a pencil and,
+while Mr. Skinner called off the names of the deserving and the length
+of time each had spent in the Ricks service, Cappy scrawled a five, a
+ten or a twenty beside each name. Thus, in time, they came to the first
+name on the Blue Star pay roll.
+
+"Matthew Peasley, president; salary, ten thousand dollars a year; length
+of service, four months," Mr. Skinner intoned. "How about a raise for
+Captain Matt?"
+
+Cappy laid down his pencil and looked at Skinner over the rims of his
+spectacles.
+
+"Skinner," he said gravely, "you're only drawing twelve thousand a year,
+and you've been with me twenty-five years! And here I'm giving this boy
+Matt ten thousand a year and he's been on the pay roll only four months.
+Why, it isn't fair!"
+
+"Remember, he was three years in the Blue Star ships that--"
+
+"Can't consider that at all when raising salaries. The salaries of
+ship's officers are fixed and immutable anyhow, and when considering
+raises for my employees. I can take into consideration only the length
+of time they've been directly under my eye. Cut Matt's salary to five
+thousand a year and let him grow up with the business. His dividends
+from his Ricks L. & L. and Blue Star stock will keep him going, and he
+hasn't any household bills to keep up. He and Florry live with me, and
+I'm the goat."
+
+"I fear Matt will not take kindly to that program, Mr.
+Ricks--particularly at this time, when every ship in the offshore fleet
+is paying for herself every voyage."
+
+"Why?" Cappy demanded.
+
+"Well," Mr. Skinner replied hesitatingly, "perhaps I have no business to
+tell you this, because the knowledge came to me quite by accident; but
+the fact of the matter is, Matt is going to build himself an auxiliary
+schooner--"
+
+"Good news!" Cappy piped. "That's the ticket for soup! An auxiliary
+schooner with semi-Diesel engines, four masts and about a million-foot
+lumber capacity would be a mighty good investment right now. Every yard
+in the country that builds steel vessels is filled up with orders, but
+our coast shipyards can turn out wooden vessels in a hurry; and, with
+auxiliary power, they'll pay five hundred per cent on their cost
+before this flurry in shipping, due to the war, is over. I don't care,
+Skinner--provided he builds a ship that's big enough to go foreign--"
+
+"But this isn't that kind," Mr. Skinner interrupted.
+
+"No other kind will do, Skinner."
+
+"This is to be a schooner yacht--"
+
+"A what!" Cappy shrilled.
+
+"A yacht--eighty-five feet over all--"
+
+"Eighty-five grandmothers! Why, what the devil does that boy want of a
+yacht? How much money does he intend to put into her?"
+
+"I do not know, Mr. Ricks; but we can be reasonably certain of one
+thing; Matt Peasley will not build a cheap boat. She'll have a lot of
+gewgaws and gadgets, teak rail, mahogany joiner-work--at the very least,
+she'll cost him thirty thousand dollars."
+
+"Skinner," Cappy declared solemnly, "he might as well put the money in
+a sack, go down to Clay Street Wharf and throw the money overboard!
+The other night I saw a couple of soldiers having a pleasant time in
+a shooting gallery, but what the president of the Blue Star Navigation
+Company wants with a thirty-thousand-dollar yacht beats my time. Why,
+he has more than thirty good vessels to play with all week, and yet he
+wants a yacht for Sunday! Skinner, my dear boy, that is wild, wanton
+extravagance."
+
+"Well, I dare say Matt thinks he can afford the extravagance."
+
+"Skinner, no man can afford it. Extravagance may reach a point where it
+becomes sinful. And I say it's a crime to put thirty thousand dollars
+into a yacht when the same thirty thousand, invested in a good vessel,
+will yield such tremendous returns. Skinner, my boy, how did you find
+out about this yacht nonsense?"
+
+"I was looking through Matt's desk for a letter I had given him to read,
+and I ran across the plans. Thinking they were Blue Star plans, I looked
+them over; there was a letter from the naval architect attached--"
+
+Cappy threw down his pencil.
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet," he cried in deep disgust, "I thought
+I was going to have a Merry Christmas--and now it's spoiled! Good Lord,
+Skinner! To think of a man throwing away thirty thousand dollars, not to
+mention the upkeep and interest after he's thrown it away--"
+
+"You've just this very day thrown away about thirty thousand dollars you
+didn't have to," Mr. Skinner reminded him.
+
+"I do have to. I've got to keep all my boys happy and satisfied and up
+on their toes, or what the devil would happen to us? They're my partners
+when all is said and done, and how am I going to face my Maker if I
+don't give my partners a square deal? There's a vast difference between
+justice and extravagance. Skinner, you don't suppose Matt's like every
+other shellback of a skipper? Why, he's only twenty-five years old; and
+if he's got the blue-water fever again, after a year ashore, there'll be
+no standing him at thirty."
+
+"Well, he's got it, sir," Mr. Skinner opined firmly. "Did you ever see
+an old sailing skipper that didn't get it? You remember Burns, who had
+the _Sweet Alferetta_? His father died and left him a million dollars,
+and five years later he came sneaking in here one day, told you he was
+tired clipping coupons and that if you wanted to save his life you'd
+give him back the _Sweet Alferetta_ and a hundred dollars a month to
+skipper her! He sold his interest to his successor for two thousand
+dollars when he fell into the fortune--and five years later he bought it
+back for three thousand, just so he could have a job again."
+
+"Yes," Cappy admitted; "they all get the blue-water fever--after
+they've left blue water. I never knew a sailor yet who wouldn't tell
+you sailoring was a dog's life; but I never knew one who quit and quite
+recovered from the hankering to go back. I think you're right, Skinner.
+This yacht is just a symptom of Matt's disease. He realizes his business
+interests tie him to the beach; but if he has a sailing yacht that he
+can fuss round with on week-ends in the bay, and once in a while make a
+little cruise to Puget Sound or the Gulf of Lower California, he figures
+he'll manage to survive."
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded.
+
+"Speaking of yachts," Cappy continued, "the case of old Cap'n Cliff
+Ashley suggests a cure for this boy Matt. Cap'n Cliff was a Gloucester
+fisherman, with the smartest little schooner that ever came home from
+the Grand Banks with halibut up to her hatches. He couldn't read or
+write and he'd never learned navigation; but he'd been born with the
+instincts of a homing pigeon, and somehow whenever he pointed his
+schooner toward Gloucester he managed to arrive on schedule; and any
+time he got a good fair breeze from the west, like as not he'd run over
+to England and sell his catch there.
+
+"Like most of his breed, Cap'n Cliff had to have a fast boat; he had to
+keep her as immaculate as a yacht in order to be happy, and he was never
+so happy as when he'd meet a squadron of the New York Yacht Club out
+on a cruise and sail circles round the flagship with his little old
+knockabout fish schooner. On such occasions old Cap'n Cliff would break
+out a long red burgee with M.O.B.Y.C. in white letters on it. On one of
+his trips to England he hooked up with a big schooner wearing the ensign
+of the Royal Yacht Club and dassed 'em to race with him.
+
+"Well, sir, it happened that the late King Edward was aboard his yacht
+that day, and you know what a sport he was in his palmy days. Cap'n
+Cliff cracked on everything he had in the way of plain sail and, after
+holding the King even for a couple of hours, he put his packet under
+gaff topsails and fisherman's staysail and broke out the balloon jib,
+bade Edward good-bye in the International Code--and flew! About six
+hours after Cap'n Cliff came to anchor, the King loafed up in his yacht,
+dropped anchor, cleared away his launch, and came over to visit Cap'n
+Cliff and shake hands with him.
+
+"'My dear sir,' says Edward, pointing aloft to the red burgee with
+M.O.B.Y.C. on it, 'pray to what yacht club do you belong?'
+
+"'My own bloomin' yacht club, your majesty,' says Cap'n Cliff; and if he
+hadn't been a Yankee fisherman the King would have knighted him on the
+spot!
+
+"And that remark, Skinner, my dear boy, clears the atmosphere in the
+case of our own dear Matthew. He shall have his own blooming yacht club,
+only his yacht shall carry cargo and pay her way."
+
+"You mean--"
+
+"I mean I'm going to send him to sea for one voyage, once a year,
+which will break up that blue-water fever and save Matt thirty thousand
+dollars as an initial investment, and about ten thousand a year upkeep
+and interest. All that boy needs to cure him, Skinner, is the old
+_Retriever_, totally surrounded by horizon and smelling of a combination
+of tarred rope, turpentine, wet canvas, fresh paint, green lumber and
+the stink of the bilge water. Lordy me, Skinner, it puts them to sleep
+and they wake up feeling perfectly bully! Where's the _Retriever_ now,
+Skinner, and who is in charge of her destinies?"
+
+"She's due on Puget Sound from the West Coast. Captain Lib Curtis has
+her."
+
+"Good news! Well, now, Skinner, you listen to me: The minute he reports
+his arrival you wire Lib to put the old harridan on dry dock and slick
+her up until she looks like four aces and a king, with everybody in the
+game standing pat. Can't have any whiskers on her bottom when Matt takes
+her out, Skinner, because if the boy's to enjoy himself she's got to
+be able to show a clean pair of heels. Then write Lib to wire his
+resignation and give any old reason for it. Have him resign just before
+the vessel is loaded and ready for sea, and tell him to insist on being
+relieved immediately. Of course, Skinner, Matt will get busy right away,
+looking for the right skipper to relieve Captain Curtis--and about that
+time the president emeritus will shove in his oar and ball things up.
+Every doggoned skipper Matt recommends for the job is going to have his
+application vetoed by Alden P. Ricks, and--er--ahem! Harumph-h-h!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"And you stick by me, Skinner. Follow all my leads and don't trump any
+of my aces; and just about the time Matt begins to get good and mad
+at my doggoned interference--you know, Skinner, my boy, I'm only a
+figurehead--you cut in and say: 'Well, for heaven's sake! You two still
+squabbling over a skipper for the _Retriever?_ Matt, why don't you
+save the demurrage and take her out yourself--eh?'" And Cappy winked
+knowingly and prodded his general manager in the ribs.
+
+"I guess that plan's kind of poor--eh, Skinner? I guess it won't
+work--eh? Particularly when I come right back and say: 'Well, he might
+as well, for all the use he is round this office. Here I go to work and
+appoint him president of the Blue Star and he won't stay in the office
+and'tend to the president's business. Yes, sir! Leaves all that to you
+and me, Skinner, while he degrades himself doing the work of a port
+captain.'"
+
+"All of which is quite true, Mr. Ricks," Mr. Skinner affirmed. "He will
+not stay in the office--and he's getting worse. Two-thirds of his time
+is spent round the docks."
+
+"Well, two-thirds of his time in 1915 will not be spent round the docks,
+Skinner. Play that bet to win! We're going to have a busy old year
+in the shipping game in 1915, and a busier one in 1916 if that war in
+Europe isn't over by then. A voyage in the _Retriever_ will fix the boy
+up, Skinner, and he'll stick round the office and put over some real
+business. Yachts! Hah! What does a business man want of a yacht?"
+
+"You overlooked one very important detail, Mr. Ricks," Skinner ventured.
+
+"I overlook nothing, Skinner--nothing. His wife shall accompany him on
+the voyage. I shall implant the idea in her head, beginning this very
+night as soon as I get home. I'll just tell her she isn't and never will
+be a true sailor's true love until she takes a voyage with her husband.
+Romantic girl, Florry! She'll about eat that suggestion, feathers and
+all, Skinner. She'll do the real work for us. Always remember, my boy,
+that an ounce of promotion is worth enough perspiration to float the
+_Narcissus_."
+
+"But what shall we do for a port captain?"
+
+"I've ordered Mike Murphy--via Matt, of course--to take a vacation
+under full salary and recover from the wounds he received walloping
+that German crew on the _Narcissus_. About the time Matt leaves in the
+_Retriever_, Mike will be ready to go to work again or commit murder if
+we don't give it to him; so we'll slip him a temporary appointment as
+port captain. I'm going to make it permanent some day, anyhow. I suppose
+you've noticed that Mike Murphy has a crush on your stenographer; and I
+don't see how he's going to put anything over if he never gets a chance
+to see the girl!"
+
+"I really hadn't noticed it, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"If it was a ten-cent piece you'd notice it," Cappy retorted. "And now
+that matter is settled, how about this port steward? Is he a grafter? If
+not, raise him five dollars a month. He's been with us only a year."
+
+Late that afternoon, after Cappy had made the rounds of his office,
+distributing his checks and wishing all hands the merriest of
+Christmases, he paused at last at Mr. Skinner's desk and laid a
+thousand-dollar check thereon.
+
+"Not a peep out of you, Skinner--not a peep!" he cautioned his general
+manager. "No thanks due me. You've earned it a thousand times over--and
+then some. Hum-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! By the way, Skinner, my dear boy,
+I forgot to mention to you another little idea that's in the back of my
+head."
+
+"You mean about sending Matt to sea for a voyage?"
+
+"Exactly. The sea is a wonderful institution, Skinner--wonderful! It
+promotes health and strength; and--er--damn it, Skinner, my dear boy,
+have you ever observed that there isn't a married skipper in our employ
+that hasn't been lucky? Many well-known authorities prescribe a sea
+voyage--"
+
+"What for, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+Cappy thrust his thumb into Skinner's ribs, winked, bent low, and
+whispered:
+
+"Too slow, Skinner; too slow. I'm getting old, you know--I can't wait
+for ever. And if the experiment succeeds--Skinner, my dear boy, you're
+next! You've been married more than a year now--"
+
+"I fail to comprehend--"
+
+"Grandson!" Cappy whispered. "Grandson!"
+
+"Oh!" said Mr. Skinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+One of the remarks most frequently heard on California Street was to
+the effect that whenever Cappy Ricks girded up his loins and went after
+something he generally got it. His scheme to get Matt Peasley to sea for
+one voyage, accompanied by Florry, worked as smoothly as a piston; and
+on the fifteenth of January the Peasleys went aboard the _Retriever_ at
+Bellingham and towed out, bound for Manila with a cargo of fir lumber.
+Matt made the run down in sixty-six days, a smart passage, waited a week
+in Manila Bay before he could secure a berth and commence discharging,
+discharged in a week, loaded a cargo of hemp, with a deckload of
+hardwood logs, and was ready for the return trip to San Francisco on
+April twenty-fourth, on which day he towed out past Corregidor.
+
+His wife, however, was not with him on the return voyage. Following a
+family conference, it was decided that Florry should return home on the
+mail steamer--which action Cappy Ricks considered most significant when
+Matt apprised him of it by cable, but failed to state a reason. The
+president emeritus, immediately upon receipt of this information,
+trotted into Mr. Skinner's office and laid Matt Peasley's cablegram on
+the latter's desk.
+
+"Well, Skinner, my dear boy," he piped, rubbing his hands together the
+while, "what do you know about that?"
+
+"Do you--er--suspect--er--something, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"Suspect? Not a bit of it. I know! Neither Florry nor Matt would dream
+of permitting the other to come home alone if there wasn't a third party
+to be considered. Paste that in your hat, Skinner. It isn't done."
+
+Cappy was right, for the same steamer that bore his daughter home
+carried also a brief letter from his son-in-law conveying the tidings
+of great joy. The old man was so happy he went into Mr. Skinner's office
+and struck his general manager a terrible blow between the shoulders,
+after which he declared it was a shame that his years and reputation for
+respectability denied him the privilege of chartering a seagoing hack
+and painting the town red!
+
+The _Retriever_ crept slowly up the China Sea on the first of the
+southwest monsoon. At that period of the year, however, the monsoon
+is weak and unsteady; and after clearing the northern end of Luzon the
+_Retriever_ kicked round in a belt of light and baffling airs for a
+week. Then the monsoon freshened somewhat and the _Retriever_ once
+more rolled lazily away on her course, with young Matt Peasley humming
+chanteys on her quarter-deck and pondering the mystery that confronts
+all mankind in their first adventure in fatherhood. Would it be a boy or
+a girl? He was expressing to himself for perhaps the thousandth time the
+hope that it would be a boy, when from the poop he saw something he did
+not relish.
+
+It was the ship's cat coming across the deckload toward him, in
+his yellow eyes a singularly pleased expression and in his mouth a
+singularly large rat.
+
+Matt Peasley stepped below, found an old glove and drew it over his
+right hand, after which he returned to the quarter-deck.
+
+"Come, Tommy!" he called; and pussy came, to be seized by the tail and,
+still holding fast to his prey, cast overboard.
+
+"It's bad luck to do that to a black cat, sir," the mate informed him.
+
+Matt Peasley's eyes were blazing.
+
+"And it's worse luck still for any mate aboard my ship who neglects to
+put the rat-guards on the lines when the vessel is lying at the dock,"
+he growled. "You lubberly idiot!"
+
+"But I did put the rat-guards on the lines," the mate protested.
+
+"Yes, I know you did; but I had to remind you of it," Matt replied. "You
+didn't get them on in time--and now the Lord only knows how many rats
+we have aboard. Ordinarily I don't mind rats, but an Oriental rat is
+something to be afraid of."
+
+"Why, sir?"
+
+"Because they carry the germs of bubonic plague, you farmer!" And Matt
+very carefully removed his glove and cast it overboard after the cat.
+"And it's a cold day when you can't find an occasional case of plague
+in the Orient. The cat caught the rat and mauled it round; hence the
+cat had to go, because I never permit in my cabin a cat that has been on
+intimate terms with an Oriental rat. And now I bet I know what's wrong
+with that fo'castle hand that went into the sick bay the day before
+yesterday. He complained of swelling in the glands of his neck and
+groins."
+
+The cook left the forward deckhouse and came aft over the deckload. At
+the break of the poop he paused.
+
+"Captain Peasley," he announced, "Lindstrom is dead."
+
+"Tell everybody to keep away from him," Matt ordered. He turned to the
+mate. "Mr. Matson," he announced, "the first duty of a murderer is to
+get rid of the body. Go forward and throw Lindstrom's body overboard;
+then stay forward. If you come aft until I send for you I'll blow your
+brains out!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+When the _Retriever_ was out from Manila seventy days Cappy Ricks
+remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt would be breezing in most any day now.
+On the eightieth day he remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt was coming
+home a deal slower than he had gone out. The efficient Skinner, however,
+cited so many instances of longer passages from Manila to San Francisco
+that Cappy was comforted, although he was not convinced. "You make me a
+type-written list of all those vessels and their passages, Skinner," he
+cautioned; "and when you can't think of any more authentic cases fake up
+a few. Florry's beginning to worry. She knows now what it means to be
+a sailor's wife, and if that doggoned Matt doesn't report soon 111 know
+what it means to be a sailor's father-in-law. I wish to Jimminy I hadn't
+sent Matt out with the _Retriever._"
+
+Ninety days passed. Cappy commenced to fidget. A hundred days passed,
+and Cappy visited the hydrographic office and spent a long time poring
+over charts of the air currents in the China Sea, along the coast of
+Asia and in the North Pacific.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he quavered when he returned to the office; "I'm
+a most unhappy old man."
+
+Mr. Skinner forgot for an instant that he was a business man and, with a
+sudden, impulsive movement, he put his long, thin arm round the old man
+and squeezed him.
+
+"If you didn't think so much of him, sir," he comforted Cappy, "you'd
+worry less. She really will not be overdue until she's out a hundred and
+twenty days."
+
+"Skinner," Cappy piped wearily, "don't try to deceive me. I've been
+in the shipping game for forty-odd years, boy. I know it's about six
+thousand miles from San Francisco to Manila, and if a vessel averages
+ninety miles a day she's making a smart passage. Matt made it down in
+sixty-six days, and he ought to come back in sixty, because he has fair
+winds all the way. Skinner, the boy's a month overdue; and if he never
+shows up--if he stays out much longer--Florry'll break her heart; and
+my grandson--think of it, Skinner!--think of the prenatal effect on the
+child! Oh, Skinner, my dear, dear boy, I want him big and light-hearted
+and sunny-souled like Matt--and to think this is all my doing--my own
+daughter! Oh! Oh, Skinner, my heart is breaking!"
+
+Mr. Skinner fled to his own office and did something most
+un-Skinner-like. He blinked away several large bright tears; and while
+he was blinking them the telephone bell rang. Mechanically Mr. Skinner
+answered. It was Jerry Dooley, in charge of the Merchants' Exchange.
+
+"Mr. Skinner," said Jerry, "I've got some bad news for you."
+
+"The-the-_Retriever_--" Skinner almost whispered.
+
+"Yes, sir. I thought I'd tell you first, so you could break it to the
+old man gently. The Grace liner _Ecudorian_ arrived at Victoria this
+morning and reports speaking the _Retriever_ eight hundred miles off the
+coast of Formosa. The vessel was under jib, lower topsail, foretopmast
+staysail, mainsail and spanker. She was flying two flags--an inverted
+ensign and the yellow quarantine flag. The _Ecudorian_ steamed close
+alongside of her, to windward. Captain Peasley was at the wheel--"
+
+"Thank God!" Mr. Skinner almost sobbed. "What was wrong with her, Jerry?
+Hurry up, man! Hurry up! Tell me!"
+
+"He was alone on the ship, Mr. Skinner. Bubonic plague! Killed the
+entire crew! Matt was the only man immune, and he's sailing the
+_Retriever_ home alone!"
+
+Mr. Skinner groaned.
+
+"Good gracious Providence! Why didn't the _Ecudorian_ take him off?"
+
+"Credit them with offering it," Jerry replied. "He wouldn't come. He
+declined to jeopardize the people aboard the steamer and he wouldn't
+abandon the _Retriever_ with her full cargo; so what could they do? They
+had to sail away without him."
+
+Gently Mr. Skinner broke the news to Cappy Ricks; for, of course, the
+United Press dispatches had carried it to the later afternoon editions
+and it would be useless for Mr. Skinner to attempt to lie kindly. Cappy,
+with bowed head, heard him through; when finally he looked up at Skinner
+his eyes were dead.
+
+"Quite what I expected of him, Skinner," he said dully. "And I'd rather
+have him die than dog it! This report from the _Ecudorian_ helps some,
+Skinner. It will do to keep hope alive in my Florry--and every two weeks
+until the boy is born we'll--we'll--Oh, Skinner--"
+
+"Yes, sir; I'll attend to it. Leave everything to me, Mr. Ricks. I'll
+have wireless reports and telegrams and cablegrams from every port on
+earth telling of ships having spoken the _Retriever_, with the skipper
+well and hearty, and sending messages of good cheer to his wife."
+
+"You--you won't be--er--stingy, Skinner? You'll send out the
+_Tillicum_ to find him and tow him in, won't you? And you'll have real
+telegrams--spend money, Skinner! I'll have to bring those messages home
+to Florry--"
+
+"Everything, Mr. Ricks. And I'll start right in by slipping fifty
+dollars to each of the waterfront reporters on all the papers. They're
+good boys, Mr. Ricks. I'll tell them why I have to have the service.
+Mrs. Peasley must have our fake reports confirmed in the papers--"
+
+"For work like that the marine reporters should have more money," Cappy
+suggested wearily. His old hand reached out gropingly, closed over Mr.
+Skinner's and held it a moment childishly. "You're a very great
+comfort to me, Skinner--very great indeed! And you'll come home with me
+to-night, won't you, Skinner? I'm a little afraid--I want you near me,
+Skinner--in case I can't get away with it to Florry."
+
+His dry, dead eyes studied the pattern in the office carpet.
+
+"Two mates, a cook and ten A. B.'s!" he murmured presently. "One man,
+even a Matt Peasley, cannot do the work of thirteen men. No, Skinner; it
+isn't done. One man simply cannot sail a barkentine."
+
+But Mr. Skinner was not listening. He was on the long-distance phone
+calling the master of the _Tillicum_, just about finishing discharge of
+a cargo of nitrate at San Pedro. And presently Cappy heard him speaking:
+
+"Mr. Ricks, listen! Grant, of the _Tillicum_, says Matt would go up the
+China Sea on the southwest monsoon... Yes, captain. You say--ah, yes;
+quite so... Grant says he'd edge over until he got into the Japan
+Stream, and that would add a knot or two an hour to his speed... Yes,
+Grant. Speak up! ... Grant says, Mr. Ricks, that about the middle of
+September or the first of October Matt would run out of the southwest
+monsoon into the northeast monsoon--that's it, Grant, isn't it? He'd
+get them about off Formosa, eh?... Yes, Grant. Then he'd run into the
+prevailing westerly winds and run north on a great circle about five
+hundred miles below the Aleutian Islands--I see, Grant. All right! Fill
+your oil tanks and take an extra supply on deck, head into the North
+Pacific... Yes; use your own judgment, of course. Mine's no good... Yes;
+and bring a lot of disinfectants and a doctor, so it'll be safe to put
+a few men aboard when you find her and put your hawser on her ... Yes,
+Grant. If you find her you'll not have reason to regret it. Good-bye!
+Good luck!"
+
+"While the _Tillicum_ is on this wild-goose chase, Skinner," Cappy said
+wearily, "she is chartered by the Blue Star Navigation Company to Alden
+P. Ricks personally, at the prevailing rates. The stockholders mustn't
+pay for my fancies, Skinner. You'll see to that, won't you?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+_Excerpt from the log of Captain Matt Peasley relief skipper of the
+American barkentine Retriever; Manila to San Francisco._
+
+May Third.--Seaman Olaf Lindstrom died to-day, following an illness of
+thirty-six hours. He was taken with chills and fever on the morning
+of the second, complained of a severe headache and vomited repeatedly.
+Removed him from the forecastle to a spare room in the forward house,
+which on the _Retriever_ has always been used as a sick bay. While being
+supported along the deck he collapsed, and when the mate undressed him
+and put him to bed he complained of soreness in his groins. I examined
+them and found them slightly swollen. Treated him for ague--calomel,
+salts, quinine and whisky, and one-fortieth-grain strychnine hypodermic
+solution to keep up his heart action when the fever registered one
+hundred and four and higher. He grew steadily worse. Could not find
+anything in my Home Book of Medicine that exactly described his
+symptoms, and was at a loss to diagnose Lindstrom's case until I
+discovered the ship's cat with a rat it had just killed.
+
+There were no rats aboard the _Retriever_ when she left San Francisco.
+I recalled that the first night we tied up to the dock in Manila a dirty
+little China Coast tramp lay just ahead of us; and as I passed her on my
+way uptown I saw a rat run down her gangplank. She had rat-guards on
+her mooring lines. We had just tied up to the dock and I returned
+immediately and instructed the mate to be sure to put the rat-guards on
+our mooring lines, and not to use any sort of gangplank. When I returned
+to the vessel later that night I found that the mate had neglected to
+put on the rat-guards and logged him for it. Before we left the dock a
+Chinaman died of bubonic plague aboard that tramp, and the port health
+authorities put the vessel in quarantine immediately and prevented
+further spread of the disease.
+
+When I saw the ship's cat with a rat, therefore, I knew we had some of
+that rotten China Coaster's plague rats aboard. Accordingly threw cat
+and rat overboard just as the cook announced Lindstrom's death. Upon
+looking up the information on plague, I am now convinced we have it
+aboard--that Linstrom died of it. First Mate Olaf Matson wrapped
+himself in my old bathrobe, gloved his hands and threw Lindstrom's body
+overboard, following it with the gloves and bathrobe.
+
+I am, in a measure, prepared for plague. When I learned we had lain
+close to a vessel with a case of plague aboard I laid in some plague
+medicine, on general principles and just to have an anchor out to
+windward. At the English drug store on the Escolta I bought a tiny
+bottle of Yersin's Antipest Serum and another of Haffkine's Prophylactic
+Fluid. It was all they had on hand and it wasn't much; but--it is enough
+to save me--and I intend to be saved if possible. I cannot afford to die
+now. I do not know how old the Haffkine's Fluid is; and the older it is,
+the longer it takes to render one immune. The antipest serum will render
+me immune immediately, but the duration of the immunity thus granted
+lasts, at the most, only fifteen days. I must, therefore, first take a
+hypodermic injection of antipest serum to render me immune immediately
+and the next day follow with an injection of Haffkine's Fluid, which
+gives permanent immunity, but not for a week or longer when used alone.
+
+There is this devilish thing about it to be considered, however: I may
+at this moment be inoculated with plague, for the period of incubation
+is from three to seven days--and I've fondled that cat every day since
+we left Manila. If I am already infected and do not know it, and while
+in that condition take an injection of the antipest serum, the book says
+the serum will immediately bring on a fatal and virulent attack of the
+plague! On the other hand, if I am not inoculated and take the antipest
+serum I am safe.
+
+The question before the house, therefore, is: Shall I take it or shall
+I not? And if I do take it shall I be saving my life or committing
+suicide? I am like the fellow in the story who was forced to drink from
+one of two glasses of wine. He knew one of them contained poison, but
+he didn't know which one it was! I shall make my will and flip a coin to
+decide the issue.
+
+May Fourth.--Two a.m. Mate reports another sick man in the forecastle.
+Wish I had some formaldehyde gas. Have told mate to sprinkle chloride
+of lime in Lindstrom's bunk and to dust the walls and floors of the
+forecastle and sick bay with it. That is the only disinfectant I have
+aboard in quantity.
+
+At midnight I flipped the coin--heads I'd take it; tails I wouldn't. The
+coin fell heads--and I took it.
+
+Four a.m.--Mustered the crew and gave them a lecture on bubonic plague.
+I have sufficient antipest serum for four men. After explaining that it
+was Hobson's choice, I asked the men to draw matches, held in the hand
+of the first mate, to see who should be the lucky ones. They all decided
+to take a chance and go without it, with the exception of two seamen and
+the mates, who, learning that I had taken it, decided to follow suit.
+Accordingly I inoculated them with the antipest serum.
+
+Five p.m.--Inoculated myself with Haffkine's Fluid.
+
+Seven-thirty.--Seaman Ross died. Mr. Matson threw the body overboard. No
+services.
+
+Midnight.--Mr. Matson is down with it.
+
+May Fifth.--Mr. Matson very ill and delirious. Cook moping round like
+a drunken man; complains of severe headache. Wind blowing lightly from
+south-west. Everything set. Inoculated second mate and the two seamen
+with Haffkine's.
+
+May Sixth.--Mr. Matson died at noon today. Cook down with it; also
+another seaman, and Mr. Eccles, the second mate. Have altered ship's
+course and am running for Hongkong. Winds light and baffling. Have not
+made thirty miles today. Calm at midnight. Mr. Eccles died just as the
+watches were being changed. I now feel that I have escaped; so examined
+Mr. Eccles' body. He went so fast I am curious. No swelling of the
+glands at all. Am inclined to think his was pneumonic or septicaemic.
+Threw him overboard myself.
+
+May Seventh.--Light and baffling airs all day; monsoon blowing in weak
+puffs. Another seaman ill. So ends this day.
+
+May Eighth.--Cook died at noon. No buboes on him either. He turned
+kind of black. I was chief undertaker. No airs to speak of. Ship barely
+making steerage way. So ends this day.
+
+May Ninth.--Seaman Peterson died early this morning. Do not know exact
+hour. Found him dead in his berth. Another funeral; no services. Monsoon
+freshening. Made forty-eight miles today. Two more seamen on sick
+report; and, to add to my worries, they are the very two I inoculated
+with the antipest serum and Haffkine's. Is this stuff worthless?
+
+May Tenth.--Seamen Halloran and Kaiser died within an hour of each other
+this evening--Halloran at nine-thirty and Kaiser at ten-eighteen. Put
+both bodies overboard immediately.
+
+I have four seamen left, and am doing the cooking, navigating, nursing
+and undertaking. Wind freshening hourly. Made seventy-two miles today.
+Glad Florry and Cappy Ricks cannot see me now, although, for some fool
+reason, I have a notion I shall see them again. If I were going to get
+plague it would have developed before now. I feel quite safe, but most
+unhappy and worried.
+
+Midnight.--Seaman Anderson down with it. Jumped overboard to save me the
+bother of throwing him overboard about the day after to-morrow, which
+is a courtesy I did not expect of Anderson. I am obliged to him. I am
+exhausted and so are my three remaining seamen. We cannot handle the
+canvas now, so have taken in the foresail, royals, and topgallant sails,
+hauled down the flying jib and got the gaff topsail off her, leaving
+her under the jib, fore-topmast staysail, upper and lower fore-topsails,
+main-topmast staysail, mainsail and spanker. Hove her to and turned in.
+
+May Eleventh.--After a horrible breakfast, which I cooked, got under way
+again. Monsoon blowing nicely, but under the small amount of canvas I
+am forced to carry cannot make more than six miles an hour. Have decided
+not to run to Hongkong. If I am to lose my three remaining seamen I
+shall have lost them long before I sight land, and the tug or steamer
+that hooks on to me off Hongkong will stick me with a terrific salvage
+bill. If I'm going to be stuck I prefer to be stuck closer to home, and
+if I manage to keep these three men the four of us can sail her home.
+I'll take a chance and run up the coast of Asia with the Japan Stream
+until I reach the northeast monsoon. I'm certain to be spoken and can
+send word to Florry. In a pinch, at this season of the year, I can sail
+her home alone.
+
+May Fifteenth.--I am alone on the ship. Into the Japan Stream, monsoon
+blowing the sweetest it ever blew. Lucky thing for me I had the
+forethought to trim her down; otherwise I should have had to cut away a
+lot of canvas. And how Cappy Ricks would scream at the sail bill later
+on! We were hove to overnight when Borden and Jacobsen died, on the
+thirteenth. McBain complained of a headache and vertigo on the morning
+of the fourteenth; so I laid to until he died, last night. I was not
+with him when he passed. What good would it have done? I had breakfast;
+and after breakfast I found him in his berth, dead. I tossed him
+overboard, and every last rag of clothing, dunnage and blankets aboard,
+with the exception of those in my own cabin. Then I burned sulphur in
+the fore-castle, the galley, the cook's room and the stateroom formerly
+occupied by the mates, closed the doors, and hoped for the best. Slept a
+lot that day and night; and at eight this morning slacked off my spanker
+and main sheets, checked in my foreyard and topsail by taking the the
+braces to the donkey engine, and was off for home.
+
+Have established my commissary in the lee of the wheel box. Set up a
+small kerosene stove I found in the storeroom, and get along nicely. It
+is quite an art to fry eggs with one hand and steady the wheel with the
+other, but I managed it three times today. To-morrow I will cook enough
+at breakfast to last me for luncheon and supper; hence will only have to
+heat some coffee.
+
+Logged fifty-one miles by eight o'clock; then lashed the wheel and let
+her take care of herself while I got steam up in the donkey and hauled
+in my spanker and mainsail; then I slacked off my foreyard and topsail
+yards, hove her to on the port tack, hung three red lights on the
+forestay to show she wasn't under command, set my alarm clock and turned
+in. I have to smile at the ease with which one man--provided he is a
+sizable man and able to stand strain--can sail a barkentine before the
+wind in fair weather. I am not worried. I am not going to have bubonic
+plague. It is horribly lonely, but I am due for fair winds--and I should
+worry.
+
+Even if I should get a blow and have to take the lower topsail off her,
+I can lower the yard by the topsail halyards until it rests on the cap;
+then I'll skip aloft and run a knife along the head of the topsail and
+let it whip to glory. After that it may blow and be damned! All the
+clothes the old girl is wearing now will never take the sticks out of
+her. I've trimmed her down to jib, lower topsail, fore-topmast staysail,
+mainsail and spanker. Wish I dared carry the foresail. However, I
+must play safe. It is awful, though, to be in a ship as fast as the
+_Retriever_ and have to crawl the way I'm crawling. Crawl all day and
+sleep all night! Well, sometimes I can crawl all day and night and sleep
+half a day. We shall see. I used to be able to stand considerable before
+I hit the beach and got soft. The necessity for firing the donkey every
+night would soon exhaust my fuel supply; but I have a deck-load of
+hardwood logs! [Illustration: (_Excerpt from the log of Cap't Matt
+Peasley_) "I am alone on the ship--all the rest are now dead"--]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Four months had passed since the _Ecudorian_ had spoken Matt Peasley
+off the coast of Formosa; during that period no further news had been
+received in Cappy Ricks' office, although the diligent Skinner, aided
+and abetted by the waterfront reporters, managed to have a piece of
+cheering information for Florry about every two weeks. And, in order
+to forestall any possibility of some garrulous girl friend, with a
+male relative in the shipping business, "spilling the beans," as Cappy
+expressed it, the old man had taken a house in the country, and came
+to the office only twice a week to mourn for his lost Matthew and glean
+what little comfort he could from the empty words of hope Mr. Skinner
+dispensed so lavishly.
+
+"If we can only keep Florry buoyed up with hope until the baby comes!"
+Cappy would groan. "She's worried; but, strange to say, Skinner, she
+hasn't the slightest idea he's in any danger. Those fake cablegrams and
+reports of ships speaking Matt--each time closer to home--have done
+the trick, Skinner. Of course the boy's dead, and I killed him; but
+Florry--well, she took a trip on the _Retriever_ and knows how safe she
+is, and I've had a lot of old sailing skippers down to visit me,
+and primed them to tell her just how they would get away with such a
+proposition as Matt's--and how easy it would be. Besides, she knows Matt
+had some plague prophylactic aboard--"
+
+"Yes; and I've told her she mustn't show the white feather--for your
+sake," Mr. Skinner interrupted; "and I think she's sensible enough to
+know she mustn't permit herself to show it--for the baby's sake."
+
+Cappy bowed his head and shook like a hooked fish.
+
+"When the baby's two weeks old I'll tell her," he moaned. "Oh, Skinner,
+Skinner, my dear boy, this is going to kill me! I won't last long now,
+Skinner. All my fault! I had to go butting in. That girl's heart is
+breaking with anxiety. When she comes down to breakfast, Skinner, I can
+see she's been crying all night."
+
+"Horrible!" Mr. Skinner murmured. "Horrible! We can only hope."
+
+On the twelfth of September Florry's baby was born. It was a boy, and
+a bouncing boy at that; and Cappy Ricks forgot for the moment he had
+rendered that baby fatherless, and came up to the city to report the
+news to Skinner.
+
+"Well, Skinner, my dear boy," he announced with just a touch of his
+old-time jauntiness, "little Matthew just arrived! Everything lovely."
+
+Mr. Skinner was about to formulate suitable phrases of congratulation
+when the telephone bell rang. It was Jerry Dooley up at the Merchants'
+Exchange; and he was all excitement.
+
+"Hey, Skinner," he cried. "The _Retriever_ is passing in!"
+
+"No!" Mr. Skinner shrieked. "It isn't possible!"
+
+"It is! She's coming in the Gate now--she's right under the lookout's
+telescope; and there's only one man on deck--"
+
+Mr. Skinner turned to Cappy Ricks, put his arms round him and jerked the
+old man from one end of the office to the other.
+
+"He's safe, he's safe, he's safe, he's safe!" he howled indecorously.
+"Matt's sailing her in. He's sailing her in--"
+
+"You scoundrel!" Cappy shrilled. "Be quiet! Is she sailing in or
+towing--"
+
+"She's sailing in."
+
+Cappy Ricks slumped down in his chair, his arms hanging weakly at his
+sides.
+
+"Yes, Skinner," he barely whispered, "Matt's alive, after all. Nobody
+else would have the consummate crust to sail her in but him. Any other
+skipper under heaven would have hove to off the lightship and sent in
+word by the pilot boat to send out a tug. Oh, Lord, I thank Thee! I'm a
+wicked, foolish, bone-headed old man; but Lord, I do thank Thee--I do,
+indeed!"
+
+Half an hour later Cappy Ricks and Mr. Skinner, in a fast motorboat,
+came flying up the bay and caught sight of the _Retriever_ loafing
+lazily past Fort Mason. On she came, with a tiny bone in her teeth; and
+suddenly, as Cappy peered ahead through the spray that flew in over
+the bows of the launch and drenched him to the skin, the _Retriever's_
+mainsail was lowered rapidly. The vessel was falling off by the time the
+mainsail was down and Cappy and Mr. Skinner saw Matt run aft, steady
+the wheel and bring the vessel up on the wind again. She was now under
+spanker and the headsails. Matt lashed the wheel and again ran forward,
+pausing at the main-topmast-staysail halyards to cast them off and
+permit the sail to come down by the run.
+
+On to the topgallant forecastle Matt Peasley leaped, praising his Maker
+for patent anchors on the _Retriever_. With a hammer he knocked out the
+stopper; the starboard anchor dropped and the red rust flew from her
+hawsepipe as the anchor chain screamed through it. With his hand on
+the compressor of the windlass, Matt Peasley snubbed her gently to the
+forty-five fathom shackle, cast off his jib halyards to let the jib
+slide down the stay by its own weight, raced aft, and gently lowered
+the spanker as the American barkentine _Retriever_, with the yellow flag
+flying at the fore, swung gently to anchor on the quarantine grounds,
+two hundred and twenty-one days from Manila.
+
+Cappy Ricks turned to his general manager.
+
+"Pretty work, Skinner!" he said huskily. "I guess there's nothing wrong
+with that boy's health. Damn! The quarantine boat will beat us to it!
+Matt's throwing the Jacob's ladder over the side for them."
+
+"We can't board her until she passes quarantine--" Mr. Skinner began;
+but Cappy silenced him with a terrible look.
+
+"The word can't, Skinner, was eliminated from my vocabulary some fifty
+years ago. We can--and I will! You needn't; but I've simply got to! Hey,
+you!"--to the launchman--"kick her wide open and show some speed."
+
+Despite the warning cries from the quarantine officers in the health
+boat, the launch ran in along the _Retriever's_ side; Cappy Ricks
+grasped the Jacob's ladder as the launch rasped by and climbed up with
+an agility that caused Mr. Skinner to marvel. As his silk hat appeared
+over the _Retriever's_ rail a wind-bitten, bewhiskered, gaunt,
+hungry-looking semi-savage reached down, grasped him under the arms,
+snaked him inboard and hugged him to his heart.
+
+Silence for a minute, while Cappy Ricks' thin old shoulders shook and
+heaved as from some internal spasm, and Matt Peasley's big brown hand
+patted Cappy's back. Presently he said:
+
+"Well, father-in-law--"
+
+From somewhere in Matt Peasley's whiskers Cappy's voice came
+plaintively:
+
+"Not father-in-law, sonny. New title--this morning--six
+o'clock--nine--pounds--grandfather! Eh? Yes; grandfather! Grandpa
+Ricks!"
+
+"Boy or girl?" Matt Peasley roared, and shook the newly-elected
+grandfather.
+
+"Boy! Florry--fine--never lost hope!"
+
+A port health officer came over the rail. He shook an admonitory finger
+at Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Hey, you! Old man, you're under arrest--that is, you're in quarantine,
+and you'll have to stay aboard this ship until she's fumigated. Yes; and
+we'll fumigate you, too. Whadje mean by coming aboard ahead of us?"
+
+"Cappy," Matt Peasley said, "tell that person to go chase himself! Why,
+there hasn't been any plague aboard the ship in nearly five months!"
+
+Cappy looked up and wiped the tears of joy out of his whiskers.
+
+"Scoundrel!" he cackled. "Infernal young scoundrel! What do you mean by
+risking my _Retriever_, sailing her through the Gate with a crew of one
+man?"
+
+"Take a look at me!" Matt laughed. "I'm all hands! And didn't I prove
+I'm enough men to handle her? The pilots wouldn't board me, and by
+sailing her in myself I saved pilotage and salvage claims. I lost the
+lower topsail and the consignees are going to find a shortage in those
+hardwood logs; but that's all--except that I haven't had a decent meal
+in God knows when. Say, Cappy, what does he look like? A Peasley or a
+Ricks?"
+
+"Both," Cappy chirped diplomatically. "Matt, are you all over the
+blue-water fever?"
+
+"You bet!" he declared. "No more relief jobs for me. I've had plenty,
+although it might have been worse. It was lonely and sometimes I thought
+I was going crazy. Used to talk out loud to myself! I had some awful
+weather; but I just tucked her head under her wing and let her roll,
+and after I ran into the northeast monsoon, and later into the westerly
+winds, I had it easier and got more rest. You know, Cappy, when a
+ship is sailing on the wind, if you lash her helm a little bit below
+amidships she'll steer herself. Slow work, but--I got here; and, now
+that I'm here, I'm going to stay here.
+
+"Of course, Cappy," he added, "I've just got to have something with
+sails to play with; but no more offshore sailing in mine--that is--well,
+I'm going to stay home for a long time--after a while, maybe--and
+meantime I'm going to build a little schooner yacht--"
+
+"For the love of Mike, do!" Cappy pleaded. "I'll be stuck in quarantine
+with you for a couple of days and we'll kill time drawing up a rough
+set of plans. And when that schooner yacht is ready, Matt, I'll tell you
+what I want you to do."
+
+"What, Cappy?"
+
+"Send the bill to grandpa, Matthew!"
+
+"If I hadn't been a case-hardened old fool I'd have cheered you on when
+you wanted to build that schooner yacht last year. I'd have saved myself
+a world of grief."
+
+He placed his hand gently on Matt's shoulder and his face was ineffably
+sad as he continued: "Of course, with you away and your fate undecided,
+as it were, Matt, that infernal Skinner wasn't worth two hoots in a
+hollow. Why, the boy flopped around the office like a rooster with its
+head off, and as a result I've had to come out of my retirement and keep
+an eye on things. Thank God, I can let go now. Really, Matt, you have
+no idea how I long to separate myself from the hurly-burly of California
+street. What I want is peace and seclusion--"
+
+"You can have my share of that commodity for the remainder of my natural
+life," Matt laughed happily, "I want noise and people. I want screaming
+and yelling and fighting and risks and profits and losses and liars and
+scoundrels and honest men all inextricably mixed." He tossed his great
+sun-tanned arms above his head. "Lord, I want Life," he half shouted.
+
+Cappy sighed. These young pups! When they grow to see life as old dogs--
+
+"Well, Matt, all I've got to say is that the first man that butts into
+my private office and starts unloading a cargo of grief on me, is going
+to get busted between the eyes with a paper weight. I'm through with
+grief and woe. I don't give a hoot what happens to the world or anybody
+in it. I want peace and a rest. I can afford it and wouldn't I be a
+first-class idiot not to take it while the taking is good, Matt?"
+
+"No more mixing in the shipping end, eh?" Matt asked hopefully.
+
+Cappy raised his right hand solemnly. "Never again, Matt. I'm through
+with ships and sailors and cargoes and the whole cussed Blue Star fleet
+can sink and be damned to it, but I'll not lift a hand to save it. I'm
+THROUGH."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+ALAS! Man proposes, but God disposes. Cappy had smoked his post-prandial
+cigar next day and was in the midst of his mid-afternoon siesta, when
+the buzzer on his desk waked him with its insistent buzzing. He reached
+for the telephone.
+
+"My dear," he reproved his private exchange operator, "how often have I
+told you not to disturb me between two and three o'clock?"
+
+"I knew you wouldn't mind being disturbed this afternoon, Mr. Ricks.
+Your old friend Mr. Gurney, of New York, is calling."
+
+"Old Joe Gurney? By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! Show him in." Cappy
+was at the door to meet his visitor when the latter entered. Mr Joseph
+Gurney, senior partner of the firm of Gurney & Harlan, was, like Cappy
+Ricks, a shiping man and a Down-Easter. He and Cappy Ricks had been a
+boyhood friends in Thomaston, Main, and Gurney & Harlan were the agents
+and controlling owners of the Red Funnel line plying between New York
+and ports on the West Coast.
+
+"Well, Joe, you doddering old pirate?" cried Cappy Ricks affectionately.
+"Come in and rest your hands and feet. I'm tremendously glad to see you.
+When did you drift into down?"
+
+He shook hands with Gurney and steered him toward a chair.
+
+"Ten minutes ago, Alden, my boy. Delighted to see you again, and
+particularly pleased to see how carelessly you carry your years. I'm
+three months younger than you--and I feel like the last rose of summer."
+
+"You look it, Joe. Take a leaf out of my book and let the young fellows
+'tend to business for you. Don't let worry ride over you in the shank
+of your old age, my boy. I never do. Haven't paid a bit of attention to
+business in the last ten years, and that's why at my age I'm looking so
+fit."
+
+"You'll live to be a hundred, Alden."
+
+Cappy smiled.
+
+"Well," he declared, "I'm going to live while I have the time. I never
+expect to be a walking corpse just stalling round in an effort to defer
+settlement with the undertaker, and I won't be a dead one until the
+neighbors hear a quartet singing Lead Kindly Light out at my house--Joe
+you look worried. Anything gone wrong with you, old friend? Need some
+money? Have you married a young wife?"
+
+"It's Joey," Gurney confessed miserably.
+
+"What? My godson, little Joey Gurney?"
+
+"He's big Joey Gurney now."
+
+"Yes, and a fine boy, Joe--no thanks to you. His mother's influence
+was strong enough to counteract any impulses for crime he might have
+inherited from his father."
+
+Gurney smiled sadly at Cappy Ricks' badinage.
+
+"He is a fine boy, Alden, but--he's only a boy, and I'm afraid he's
+going to make hash of his young life before it's fairly started."
+
+"Booze?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, then where did he first meet this woman?"
+
+Joe Gurney, Senior, hitched his chair close to his friend's and laid an
+impressive hand on Cappy's knee.
+
+"Alden," he said feelingly, "you and I have been friends, man and boy,
+for about sixty-five years. I believe we were five years old when we
+robbed Deacon Follansbee's beehive and got stung to death."
+
+"Yes, and we've both been getting stung more or less ever since,
+only somehow we still manage to recover and be none the worse for the
+experience. At least, Joe, we learned about bees. When it comes to boys,
+however, I've still got my experience coming. My little chap died when
+he was twelve, you know. I've never quite gotten over his loss; in fact,
+Joe, I was dreaming of him a minute ago when you called."
+
+"You had him long enough, Alden, to realize how I feel about Joey."
+
+Cappy nodded. "Let's see," he answered, reflectively pulling his
+whiskers, "Joey must be about twenty-four years old now, isn't he?"
+
+"Twenty-four last Tuesday; and at twenty-five he comes into his mother's
+fortune. I've managed his little nest egg pretty well, Alden; invested
+it all in the vessel property of Gurney & Harlan, and since the war
+started I've swelled what originally was a quarter of a million to
+about a million and a half. His stock in the Red Funnel Line is worth a
+million at the very least, and the remaining half million is represented
+by cold cash in bank and bonds that can be converted into cash
+overnight.
+
+"Hum-m-m! Harumph-h-h! Quite a fortune for a youth of a twenty-five to
+be intrusted with. I'll bet somebody will take it away from him before
+he's thirty."
+
+"That's a safe bet, Alden. He has a candidate for his money on his trail
+right now."
+
+"And he doesn't realize it?"
+
+"Alden, he's only twenty-four years old. What does a boy know at
+twenty-four?"
+
+"Well, Joe, you and I had accumulated a heap of experience and hard
+knocks at that age, and I seem to remember we each had a little money
+we'd managed to save here and there. I don't agree with you at all
+on this twenty-four-year-old excuse. My son-in-law, Matt Peasley--you
+remember the Peasleys of Thomaston; Matt's a nephew of Ethan, who was
+lost off the main yard of the _Martha Peasley_--was holding a master's
+ticket for sail, any ocean and any tonnage, before he was twenty-one.
+He's not much older than your Joey right now, but, nevertheless, he's
+president of the Blue Star Navigation Company and worth a million and a
+half, every dollar of which he has made by his own energy and ability."
+
+"Well, of course, Alden, there are exceptions to every rule."
+
+"Not if you raise 'em right and you've got the right kind of stock to
+work on and the boy is healthy and normal. Now I know your Joey comes
+from the right stock; I know his mother raised him right until he was
+sixteen when the good Lord took her away from you both; and I know he is
+healthy and normal. Hasn't he proved that by falling in love? The only
+conclusion I can draw, therefore, is that you've made a monkey out of
+him, Joe Gurney."
+
+"Perhaps I have, Alden; perhaps I have," Gurney replied sadly.
+
+"No 'perhaps' about it. I know you have. You sent him to college and
+gave him ten thousand dollars a year to spend. If you wanted to give
+him a fine education and turn out a man and a gentleman you might have
+gotten him into the Naval Academy at Annapolis, where he would have
+learned something of ships and graduated with a master's ticket; after
+serving a few years and getting the corners knocked off him he could
+have resigned and you would have had a sane, dependable man to sit in at
+your desk when you're gone. By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, Joe Gurney,
+you make me sick! You're like every other damphool American father who
+accumulates a few million dollars in excess of his legitimate needs and
+then gets all puffed up with the notion he's got to give his son all the
+so-called advantages his own parents were too poor to afford him--or too
+sensible. The result is you turn out an undeveloped or over-developed
+boob, too proud to work and not able to take a real man's place in the
+world because he hasn't been taught how. And in the course of time he
+marries a female boob who has been raised according to the same general
+specifications, and nine times out of ten she's too refined to be
+bothered with a family. And presently there's a trip out to Reno and the
+little squib in the paper and--er--ahem! Drat your picture, Joe, you're
+the responsible party. You created a ten-thousand-dollar-a-year parasite
+on the body politic while your boy was still in his teens, and now you
+want to know what the devil to do about it, don't you?"
+
+"That's exactly what I want to know, Alden," Gurney confessed miserably,
+"and I've crossed the continent to get your advice. I haven't very many
+real friends--the kind I can open my heart to--"
+
+"Tut, tut, Joe. Enough of vain repining. Now then, old friend, let's get
+to the bottom of this thing and see if we can't buy this wreck in from
+the underwriters, salvage it and put it in commission again. Never
+say die, Joe! Where there's a will there's a lawsuit or a
+heartache--particularly if the estate makes it worth while. Now then,
+Joe, you must realize that it's the fashion nowadays, when a fellow has
+to consult a specialist, to give his personal and family history
+for three generations back before receiving treatment. So if I am to
+diagnose Joey's case I'll have to have a history of Joey. Now then! He
+graduated from college at the age of twenty-two did he not?"
+
+"He didn't graduate, Alden. He was requested to leave."
+
+"Hum-m-m! I didn't know that. What for?"
+
+"General uselessness and animal spirits, I suppose. It wasn't anything
+dishonorable. The main contributory cause was an alleged poem lampooning
+some individual they called Prexy."
+
+"Hum-m-m! And since leaving college what has he done?"
+
+"I've had him in my office."
+
+"Joe, answer my question. I know you've had him in your office. But what
+has he done? Has he earned his salary?"
+
+"I'm afraid he hasn't, Alden. Somehow golf and tennis and week-end
+parties and yachting and big-game hunting in Alaska and tarpon fishing
+in Florida sort of interfere with business."
+
+"Well, that isn't much of a crime, Joe. I never had time to do those
+highly enjoyable things and I couldn't afford them. When I could afford
+them and had time to do them I was too old. You say the boy is fond of
+yachting?"
+
+"It's his greatest hobby. In his taste for salt water he at least
+resembles his ancestors. The Gurneys were all sailors and shipping men."
+
+"Is he a good yachtsman, Joe?"
+
+"He has a schooner that's a hundred and six feet over all and he seems
+to win pretty regularly with her. I never knew him to get worse than
+second place in all the races he has entered."
+
+"Too bad," Cappy Ricks murmured sadly. "A noble ambition absolutely
+misdirected. He would have been a skipper and, lastly, a good shipping
+man if you had only managed him like a sensible father should. Now about
+this girl he's in love with?"
+
+"That happened about three months ago. He met her at one of those
+roof-garden, midnight cabaret, turkey-trot palaces in New York--"
+
+"Yes, I know. I always take in the sights when I go to New York, but
+the last time I was at that one up near Fifty-fourth Street the noise
+bothered me. And the show was very poor; in fact, after seeing it I made
+up my mind I was off cabaret stuff for keeps."
+
+"You ancient scalawag! What were you doing in a place like that?"
+
+"Seeing life as it ought not to be, of course. Your boy Joey took me up
+there, by the way. In-fer-nal young scoundrel! He showed me the town and
+we had quite a time together."
+
+Joe Gurney's old eyes popped with amazement.
+
+"You went batting round with my Joey--an old ruin like you?"
+
+"Why not? We behaved ourselves, and besides I always trot a heat with
+the young fellows whenever I get a chance. It keeps me young. I
+enjoyed Joey a heap, although I could see he was a jolly young jackass.
+Moreover, I'm his godfather, and I guess it was all right for me to tag
+along and see to it that my godson didn't get into deep water close to
+the shore, wasn't it? Don't you ever step out with Joey and get your
+nose wet?"
+
+"Certainly not!"
+
+Cappy Ricks smiled wistfully.
+
+"If I had a son I'd pal up with him," he declared. "I'd want to get out
+with him and raise a little dignified hell once in a while, just to be a
+human being and keep him from being a mollycoddle. Ahem! Harumph. So he
+flagged this damsel in the leg show, eh?"
+
+Joe Gurney nodded miserably.
+
+"Have you given her the once over?" Cappy demanded.
+
+"Yes, I went up there one night. I was afraid somebody would see me, so
+I took along Joey's aunt, Matilda. We saw the young woman. She does a
+dance specialty--an alleged Hawaiian hula-hula. It's fake from start to
+finish."
+
+"You show a guilty technical knowledge of the hula, Joe," Cappy reminded
+him. "But passing that, what's the latest report on the situation?"
+
+"Horrible, Alden, horrible!" replied Joe Gurney.
+
+"Careful, Joe, careful! Many a wheat-straw skirt and sharks'-teeth
+necklace may conceal a pure and honest heart."
+
+"Well, she's been married twice and divorced once, to begin with, and--"
+
+"That's a-plenty, Joe."
+
+"And she has just completed her contract in the show and gone out to
+Reno to acquire a six months' residence in order to get rid of husband
+number two so she can take on Joey."
+
+"Who told you all this?"
+
+"I found it out--by asking."
+
+"Have you told Joey?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Does he know it?"
+
+Gurney nodded.
+
+"I had one of his young friends, whom I can trust, tip him off in
+confidence. The news didn't make any difference to Joey. He asked her
+about it, and she explained it all away to his entire satisfaction."
+
+"I dare say. And you haven't given any indication to your son that
+you're on to him and his love affair?"
+
+"I thought best to pretend ignorance, pending my arrival at a solution
+of the difficulty."
+
+"Therein you showed a gleam of real intelligence. Having humored your
+boy all his life you could not expect to cross him in his first love
+affair and get away with it. No, sir-ree! The thing to do is to put the
+skids under Joey and his lady love before they know you know it. Tell me
+more about her, however, before I begin making skids and skid grease."
+
+"She is thirty-one years old--"
+
+Cappy Ricks threw up both hands.
+
+"Farewell, O my countrymen!" he murmured.
+
+"She has two children--one by her first husband and one by her second.
+They're living with her mother. She supports them from the proceeds of
+her hula dancing."
+
+"Score a white mark for her, Joe. Is she a good looker?"
+
+"A brunette, Alden, and Joey's Aunt Matilda admitted against her will
+that she was a beauty. My lawyer tells me, however, that she hasn't an
+ounce of brains, and proclaims the fact by laughing loudly when there is
+nothing particularly worth laughing at."
+
+"I imagine you've had a detective agency investigating her."
+
+"I have. She has little education and no refinement; her people are very
+ordinary. Her father is a whitewing in Philadelphia and is separated
+from her mother, who keeps a boarding house in Muncie, Indiana."
+
+"I'm afraid, Joe, she won't do for your daughter-in-law," Cappy Ricks
+opined slowly. "But don't worry, my boy. You've come all the way from
+New York to confide in me and get my advice, and somehow I have a
+sneaking notion you've come to the right shop. If there's anybody
+calculated to put a crimp in love's young dream, I'm that individual."
+
+"I knew Joey and you were good friends, and besides, you're his
+godfather. He thinks a lot of you, Alden, and I kind of thought maybe
+you might come East with me, see the boy, get him to confide in you
+and--er--sort of advise him in the way he should go. I'm--er--well,
+Alden, I'm afraid I feel too badly about this to talk to Joey. I might
+lose my temper, and besides--besides, he's all I have and he reminds me
+so much of his mother that I--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I understand, Joe. Leave it to me and I'll advise with him.
+Yes, I will--with an ax handle! And I'll go East with you and tie knots
+in his tail--only he won't know anything about it. It may cost you a
+little money, but I assume expense is no object."
+
+"It would be cheap at a million."
+
+"Where that boy and your money are concerned you're such an ass, Joe,
+I'm almost tempted to charge you a million extra for the operation.
+However, considering Deacon Follansbee's beehive, and Joey's mother and
+my godson--"
+
+Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his, that trembled so
+with age and anxiety.
+
+"Dear old Alden," he declared. "I knew you wouldn't fail me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+For a long time after old Joe Gurney had terminated his visit Cappy
+Ricks sat in the position which with him always denoted intense mental
+concentration. He had sunk low in his swivel chair and swung his old
+legs to the top of his desk; his head was bowed on his breast and his
+eyes were closed.
+
+Suddenly he started as if snake-bitten, sat up at his desk and reached
+for the telephone.
+
+"Get me the West Coast Trading Company," he ordered the private exchange
+operator, "and tell Mr. J. Augustus Redell I want to speak to him."
+
+Redell answered presently.
+
+"Gus, my dear young friend," Cappy began briskly, "I want you to do me a
+favor, and in so doing I think you'll find you are going to perform one
+for yourself also."
+
+"Good news, Cappy. Consider it done."
+
+"Thank you, my boy, but this particular favor isn't done quite so
+quickly. I want you to tell that Peruvian partner of yours, Live
+Wire Luiz Almeida to dig up a specification for a cargo of fir to be
+discharged on lighters at some open roadstead on the West Coast, and the
+more open the port and the more difficult it is to discharge there;
+and the harder it is to get any sane shipowner to charter a vessel to
+deliver a cargo there, the better I'll be pleased. Surely, Gus, you must
+have a customer down on the West Coast in some such port as I describe,
+who is actually watering at the mouth for a cargo of lumber and is
+unable to place it with a mill that will guarantee delivery? Look into
+the matter, Augustus, and see what you can do for me."
+
+"Do you want to furnish such a cargo from one of the Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company's northern mills and freight it in one of your Blue Star
+Navigation Company vessels?"
+
+"No, I don't want to do it," Cappy replied; "but in this particular case
+the acceptance of such a cargo and the freighting of it via a Blue Star
+windjammer, even though the usual demurrage at such discharging ports
+will cause the vessel a loss, is a consummation devoutly to be wished.
+Ordinarily, if you made such a proposition to me I'd call in the boys
+from the general office and tell them to throw you out, but--well, in
+this case I'm willing to stand the loss, Augustus."
+
+"Yes, you are--not. Somebody else will recompense you for any loss, Cappy
+Ricks, never fear. Do you want the West Coast Trading Company to give
+you a bonus for accepting our order?"
+
+"No, my boy. I'll make Skinner sell you the lumber at the regular base
+price at the mill, plus insurance and freight to point of discharge. And
+I won't stick you too deep on the freight, even in wartime."
+
+"There's something wrong with you this morning, Cappy," Redell declared,
+highly mystified. "You're too obliging. However, I'm not to be outgamed.
+I have a specification for a cargo of half a million feet for delivery
+at Sobre Vista, Peru; I've been trying for a month to place the order
+and nobody will accept it because nobody wants to guarantee delivery. On
+the other hand, the purchasers have been unable to get any ship owner
+to charter them a vessel to go to Sobre Vista without a guaranty of a
+perfectly prohibitive rate of demurrage per diem; consequently I had
+just about abandoned my efforts to place the order."
+
+"Fine business, Gus. And is Sobre Vista a rotten port at which to
+discharge?"
+
+"It's vile, Cappy. It's an open roadstead and the vessel lies off-shore
+and discharges into lighters. About four days a week the surf is so high
+the lighters cannot lie alongside the ship or be run up on the beach
+without being ruined, and to complicate the situation they only have
+two or three lighters at the port. Labor is scarce, too, and the few
+_cargadores_ a skipper can hire have a habit of working two days and
+staying drunk for the remainder of the week on the proceeds of those two
+days of labor. So you can see for yourself that discharge in Sobre Vista
+is very hard on the skipper's nerves, and that if he can work two days
+a week he's in luck. And when we deduct from those two days all the
+national holidays and holy days and saints' feast days that have to be
+duly celebrated, not to mention the three hundred and sixty-five days in
+the year the populace doesn't feel like exerting itself--well, Cappy,
+I couldn't give you anything worse than Sobre Vista if you paid me for
+it."
+
+"May the good Lord bless you, Augustus! Come down and do business with
+Skinner on the cargo. Get him to quote you a price f.o.b. ship's tackles
+at the mill dock and tell him you'll furnish the tonnage when the cargo
+is ready for delivery. There's no sense in worrying poor Skinner until
+his worries are due, and when I send a Blue Star schooner to load your
+cargo for Sobre Vista I'm going to have to fight him and my son-in-law,
+Matt Peasley. But leave it to me, Gus. I'll guarantee the tonnage."
+
+"This is certainly wonderful," the grateful Redell observed. "Thank you,
+Cappy. What I'll do to those Peruvian customers of mine on price will be
+a shame and a disgrace. Are you going to stick me for any demurrage on
+the vessel, Cappy? Because if you are, I'll have to stick my customers
+in order to get out clean."
+
+"No demurrage, Gus, not a penny."
+
+"Bully! Then I'll stick my customers anyhow. It makes the profit all the
+greater, and since they expect to pay a reasonable demurrage I see no
+reason why I should disappoint them."
+
+When Redell had hung up Cappy summoned into his presence Captain Matt
+Peasley.
+
+"Matt," he queried, "what schooners have you got due at any one of our
+northern mills within the next thirty days?"
+
+Matt Peasley pondered and counted on his big fingers. "The _Tyee_ will
+be in from Valparaiso about that time," he answered.
+
+"Have you got her chartered?"
+
+"Oh, no. We're using her in our own trade. Skinner will have a cargo
+ready for her by the time she gets back, although we don't know yet
+where we will send her."
+
+"Well, Matt, you tell Skinner he can't have her and to look around for
+some other vessel to take her place. I may give her to him at the last
+minute, but then again I may not. When she arrives at the mill, Matthew,
+my boy, tie her up to the mill dock to await my pleasure."
+
+"Why, what the devil are you going to do with the _Tyee?_" Matt
+demanded, astounded beyond measure.
+
+"I might want to take a cruise for my health and use the _Tyee_ as a
+pleasure boat," Cappy answered enigmatically. "They tell me she's as
+fast as a yacht in a breeze of wind."
+
+"The longer I'm acquainted with you, father-in-law," Matt Peasley
+declared, "the less I know you. You can have your _Tyee_, but for every
+day she is held awaiting your pleasure your personal account will be
+charged with something in three figures. I'll figure out her average
+profit per day for the last five voyages and soak you accordingly."
+
+"Fair enough," quoth Cappy Ricks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+Three weeks later Alden P. Ricks arrived in New York. After he had been
+driven to his hotel and had removed the stains of travel he telephoned
+the office of Gurney & Harlan and got Gurney, Senior, on the line.
+
+"Well, I'm here, Joe," he announced. "Have you followed my instructions
+and cut Joey off at the pockets?"
+
+"I have, Alden. He's rather desperate as a result, and has been
+trying to borrow money by hypothecating the inheritance due him on his
+twenty-fifth birthday. You see, I didn't give him a second's notice;
+just told him he was spending too much time in play and too much money
+for pleasure, and that until he came into his private fortune he would
+have to earn any money he desired to spend. I have been very firm."
+
+"That's the stuff, Joe. And is he trying to earn it?"
+
+"Yes, I think so. He's sticking round the office at any rate."
+
+"Hum-m-m! That's because it costs money to go anywhere else. Has
+he succeeded in raising a loan by assigning an interest in his
+inheritance?"
+
+"No, not yet. I blocked him at all the banks and with my old friends,
+and I do not think he can borrow as much as he needs from any of his
+friends. They, like him of course, are dependent on their fathers'
+generosity."
+
+"Fine way to raise a boy! Bully. Well, I'll be down to your office in
+about an hour and take you and Joey to luncheon at India House. You
+haven't forgotten what I wrote you, Joe? You know your part, don't you?
+. . . Well, see that you play your hand well and we'll save that boy
+yet."
+
+Two hours later the Gurneys were lunching with Cappy Ricks at the one
+New York club to which Cappy belonged--quaint old India House in
+Hanover Square, haunt of shipping men and shippers, perhaps the best and
+least-known club in New York City. Joey had been unaffectedly glad to
+see his godfather; so much so, indeed, that Cappy rightly guessed Joey
+had designs on the Ricks pocketbook; for after all, as Cappy admitted
+to himself, he is a curmudgeon of a godfather indeed who will refuse to
+loan his godson a much needed twenty-five thousand dollars on gilt-edged
+security. In expectation of an application for a loan before the day
+should be done, however, Cappy was careful not to be alone with Joey
+for an instant, for something told him that only the presence of Gurney,
+Senior, kept Gurney Junior from promptly putting his fortune to the
+touch.
+
+"Well, Joey, you young cut-up," Cappy began as the trio settled in the
+smoking room and the waiter brought the coffee and cigars, "I see you're
+getting to be quite an amateur sailor. Your Dad tells me you won your
+last race with that schooner yacht of yours in rather pretty fashion."
+
+"It was a bully race, Mr. Ricks. I wish you could have been aboard with
+me," Joey declared enthusiastically.
+
+"Hum-m-m! Catch me on a yacht!" Cappy's tones were indicative of
+profound disgust.
+
+"Ricks, you're a kill-joy," old Gurney struck in. "All you think of
+is making money, and you've made so much of it I should think the game
+would have palled on you long ago. I tell Joey to go it while he's
+young--while he has the capacity for enjoyment."
+
+"Joe, I tell you now, as I've told you before, you're spoiling this boy.
+When he's twenty-five years old he comes into a fortune and you're
+not even preparing him for the task of handling that money wisely. You
+bought Joey that schooner yacht, didn't you?"
+
+"I bought her cheap," old Joe Gurney protested lamely.
+
+"They cost a fortune to maintain, Joe. Now if Joey wanted some
+salt-water experience you should have sent him to sea as quartermaster
+on one of your own Red Funnel liners; presently he would have worked up
+to second mate; then first mate, and finally skipper. By that time he
+would have known the salt-water end of his father's business, after
+which he could sit in at a desk and learn the business end. Somehow,
+Joe, when I see a shipping man's son fooling away his time on a pleasure
+yacht instead of learning the shipping business, I feel as if I'd just
+taken a dose of ipecac."
+
+"Godfather is out of sorts," Joey soliloquized sagely, and resolved to
+wait a day or two before broaching the subject of a loan. Cappy Ricks
+surveyed the young fellow severely.
+
+"Joey," he began, "I've no doubt you're quite a sailor on your handsome
+yacht, in your yachting uniform, with all the real head work to be done
+by your sailing master--"
+
+"Not a bit of it," Joey protested. "I'm not that kind of a yachtsman.
+I'm the captain tight and the midshipmite, and the crew take orders from
+me, because I don't employ a sailing master."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that when you go on a cruise to the West Indies
+you navigate the yacht yourself--lay out your own courses and work out
+your own position?"
+
+Joey smiled patronizingly.
+
+"Certainly," he replied. "That's easy."
+
+"Sure. Play is always easy. But let me tell you, young man, if you had
+command of a big three-legged windjammer, with a deckload of heavy green
+lumber fresh from the saws, and ran into a stiff sou'-easter such as we
+have out on the Pacific coast, you'd know what real sailoring is like."
+
+"Joey could handle her like that," old Gurney declared with pride, and
+snapped his fingers.
+
+"Could you, Joey?" Cappy Ricks demanded. "I have my doubts."
+
+"Why, I think so, Mr. Ricks. I might be a little cautious at first--"
+
+"Well, I don't think you could," Cappy interrupted.
+
+"Well, I do," old Gurney declared with some warmth. "I've been out with
+Joey on his yacht and I know what the boy can do."
+
+"Bah! You're a doddering old softy, Joe. Yachting is one thing and
+sailoring is another. I have an old lumber hooker on Gray's Harbor now,
+loading for a port in Peru, and I'd certainly love to see Joey with her
+on his hands. I'll bet fifty thousand dollars he couldn't sail her down
+to Sobre Vista, discharge her and sail back inside of six months." The
+old schemer chuckled. "Lordy me," he continued, "I'd like to see Joey
+trying to make her point up into the wind! She'd break his heart."
+
+"Look here, Alden," Old Joe Gurney commenced to bristle. "Are you
+serious about that or are you just making conversation bets? Because if
+you're serious I'm just shipping man enough to call you for the sheer
+sporting joy of it."
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, you're on!" Cappy Ricks almost yelled.
+"Put up or shut up--that is, provided Joey is as big a sport as his
+father and will undertake to sail my schooner _Tyee_ to Sobre Vista and
+back."
+
+"Oh, she's a schooner!" There was relief in Joey's voice. "Why, I'll
+sail any vessel with a fore-and-aft rig. I thought perhaps you were
+trying to ring in a square-rigger on me, and I'm not familiar with them.
+But a schooner--pooh! Pie for little Joey!"
+
+"She's got three legs, and with a deck-load of lumber she's cranky and
+topheavy. I'm warning you, Joey. Remember he is a poor ship owner who
+doesn't know his own ship."
+
+Joey got up and went to a map laid out on a table, with a piece of plate
+glass over it, to compute the sailing distance from Gray's Harbor to
+Sobre Vista. He could not find Sobre Vista on the map.
+
+"Figure the distance to Mollendo and you'll be close enough for all
+practical purposes," Cappy called to him, and winked at the boy's
+father. "A little pep, here, boy," he whispered to Gurney, "and we'll
+snare him yet."
+
+Joey came back from his study of the map.
+
+"I'd have the nor'west trades clear to the Line," he remarked to his
+father. "After that I'd be liable to bang round for a couple of weeks in
+the doldrums, but in spite of that--did you say I couldn't do it in six
+months, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"That's what I said, Joey."
+
+"Take the bet, dad," said Joey quietly, "and I'll take half of it
+off your hands. I'll give you my note, secured by an assignment of a
+twenty-five-thousand-dollar interest in mother's estate to secure you in
+case Mr. Ricks should win and call you for his winnings--but he hasn't a
+chance in the world."
+
+"Money talks," Cappy Ricks warned him and got out his check book. "Joe,
+I'll make a check in your favor for fifty thousand dollars and you make
+one in my favor for the same amount. We will then deposit both checks
+with the secretary of the club, who will act as stakeholder--"
+
+"'Nuff said, Alden P. Ricks. I accept the dare. Sonny, if you're a worse
+sailor-man than you appear to be, you're liable to cost your father a
+sizable wad. However, I can't resist this opportunity to put a nick in
+the Ricks bank roll." Gurney snickered. "Alden," he declared, "you'll
+bleed for a month of Sundays. Really, this is too easy! For old sake's
+sake, I'll give you a chance to withdraw before it is too late."
+
+"Let the tail go with the hide, Joe. I don't often bet, but when I
+do I'm no piker. Joey, there's just one little condition I'm going to
+exact, however. I'm going to send one of my own skippers along with
+you on the _Tyee_, because your license as master only permits you to
+skipper pleasure boats up to a hundred tons net register; so in order to
+comply with the law I'll have to have a sure-enough skipper aboard the
+_Tyee_. But he shall have orders from me to be nothing but a companion
+to you, Joey. Once the tugboat casts you off, you are to be in supreme
+command until you voluntarily relinquish your authority, when of course
+he will take the ship off your hands. Any relinquishment of authority,
+however, will be tantamount to failure, and you will, of course, lose
+your twenty-five thousand."
+
+"That's a reasonable stipulation, godfather. I accept if father
+does--that is, provided dad lets me in on half the bet."
+
+"Better let the young feller in, Joe," Cappy suggested. "If you don't he
+might throw the race."
+
+"Well, I don't like to encourage the habit of betting, least of all with
+my own son, but in view of the fact that this is a friendly little bet
+and--er--well, you can have half, Joey."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Joey. "Mr. Ricks, when do I start?"
+
+Cappy Ricks glanced at his watch.
+
+"The sooner the better," he replied. "The _Tyee_ is loading now, but
+I'll wire them you're coming and to hold her for you. You have time to
+arrange your affairs, pack a trunk and catch the Lake Shore Limited for
+Chicago at five o'clock. From Chicago you take the--"
+
+"Never mind. I know the quickest route. Dad, I'll need some money before
+I go."
+
+"How much, son?"
+
+"Oh, a couple of thousand, just to play safe. And I'll have to leave you
+a batch of bills to settle for me."
+
+"All right, son, I'll settle them. Here's your two thousand. You can pay
+me back out of your winnings on the voyage. And never mind about your
+note or the assignment of an interest in your inheritance. If I cannot
+take my own son's word of honor I don't deserve a son. Just take care
+of yourself, Joey, because if anything should happen to you it would go
+rather hard with your old man."
+
+He wrote Joey a check for two thousand dollars and took an affectionate
+farewell of his son.
+
+"Now listen to me, my dear young Hotspur," Cappy Ricks commanded him
+as he shook Joey's hand in farewell. "The schooner's name is _Tyee_ and
+you'll find her at the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company's mill dock in
+Aberdeen, on Gray's Harbor, Washington. And don't be afraid of her. She
+was built to weather anything. The skipper's name is Mike Murphy, and if
+you can't get along with Mike and learn to love him before you're in the
+ship a week, there's something wrong with you, Joey. Just don't start
+anything with Mike though, because he always finishes strong, and
+whatever he does is always right--with me. When you get out there he'll
+show you the orders I will have telegraphed him and you have my word
+of honor, boy, that there'll be no double-crossing and no interference
+unless you request it."
+
+"Right-o!" cried Joey, and was off to earn twenty-five thousand dollars
+of the easiest money he had ever heard of.
+
+"Like spearing a fish in a bathtub," murmured Cappy Ricks dreamily, and
+tore up the fifty-thousand-dollar check he had just written. "Joe, if
+your boy is such easy game for a pair of old duffers like us, just think
+what soft picking he must have been for that nimble-footed lady with the
+raven hair, the pearly teeth and the eyes that won't behave!"
+
+"But she's coarse and brainless, Alden. I can't imagine a boy like my
+Joey falling in love with a woman like that. He ought to know better.
+Just remember how he was raised."
+
+"Fooey! Joey isn't in love. He only thinks he is, and the reason he
+thinks it is because she has told him so a hundred times. Can't you just
+see her looking up at Joey with her startled-fawn eyes and saying: 'Oh,
+you do love me, don't you, Joey?' As if the fact that Joey loved her
+constituted the eighth wonder of the world! And she's probably told Joey
+she'll die if he ever ceases to love her; and he's kind and obliging and
+wouldn't hurt a fly if he could avoid it. Why, Joe, you old idiot, you
+mustn't feel that Joey has disgraced himself. Isn't he planning to marry
+the woman? Only a decent man--a born idealist--could hold that designing
+woman in such reverence. Blamed if it isn't kind of sweet of the boy,
+although I _would_ love to give him a kick that would jar all his
+relations--including his father!"
+
+Old Joe Gurney gazed at Cappy in admiration.
+
+"Alden," he declared, "you have a singularly acute knowledge of women."
+
+"I employ about fifteen of 'em round my office; I had several narrow
+escapes in my youth; I have had a sweet and wonderful wife--and I have a
+replica of her in my daughter. And I do know young men, for I have been
+young myself; and I know old fools like you, Joe, because I've never had
+a son to make an old fool of myself over."
+
+"Well, now that you've hooked Joey for a six months' voyage, what's next
+on the program?" Gurney asked after a brief silence.
+
+Cappy smiled--a prescient little smile.
+
+"Why, I'm going to pull off a wedding," he declared. "I'm going to marry
+Joey to the sweetest, nicest, healthiest, prettiest, brainiest
+little lady of twenty summers that ever threatened to put the Ricks
+organization on the toboggan. She's my private secretary and I've got
+to get rid of her or some of the young fellows in our office will be
+killing each other."
+
+"Here, here, Alden, my boy, go slow! I ought to be consulted in this
+matter. Who is this young lady and what are her antecedents?"
+
+"Say, who's running this layout?" Cappy demanded. "Didn't you come to me
+squealing for help? Joe, take a back seat and let me try my hand without
+any advice from you. The girl's name is Doris Kenyon and she's an
+orphan. Her father used to be the general manager of my redwood mill on
+Humboldt Bay, and her mother was a girlhood friend of my late wife's; so
+naturally I've established a sort of protectorate over her. She has
+to work for a living, and any time there's a potentially fine,
+two-million-dollar husband like Joey lying round loose I like to see
+some deserving working girl land the cuss. As a matter of fact, it's
+almost a crime to steer her against Joey in his present state. But,"
+Cappy added, "I have a notion that before Joey gets rid of that
+hula-hula girl he's going to be a sadder, wiser and poorer young man
+than he is at present."
+
+"Your plan, then, is to give Joey six months away from his captor in
+order that he may forget her?"
+
+"Exactly. Absence makes the heart grow colder in cases like the one
+under discussion, and the sea is a great place for a fellow to do some
+quiet, sane, uninterrupted thinking. The sea, at night particularly, is
+productive of much introspection and speculation on the various aspects
+of life, and in order to make Joey forget this vampire in a hurry all
+that is necessary is to have a real woman round him for a while. The
+first thing he knows he'll be making comparisons and the contrast will
+appall him."
+
+"You don't mean--"
+
+"You bet I do. Joey's future wife accompanies him on the voyage, and
+my bully port captain, Mike Murphy, and his amiable sister go along to
+chaperone the party and make up a foursome at bridge. I've had a naval
+architect at work on the old cabin of the _Tyee_, putting in some extra
+staterooms, bathrooms, and so on, and in order to make a space for the
+passengers I subsidized the two squarehead mates into berthing with the
+crew in the fo'-castle. Doris always did want to take a voyage in one of
+the Blue Star windjammers, and I had promised to send her at the first
+convenient opportunity."
+
+"You deep-dyed, nefarious old villain!"
+
+"Old Cupid Ricks, eh? Well, it's lots of fun, Joe, this butting in on
+love's young dream. And I'm just so constituted I've got to run other
+people's affairs for them or I wouldn't be happy. I do think, however,
+that this house party on the old _Tyee_ is about the slickest deal I
+have ever put over. Joe, they're going to be right comfortable. I've
+shipped a maid for the girls, and the cook this time is several degrees
+superior to the average maritime specimen, for there's nothing like
+a couple of days of bum cooking to upset tempers--and I'm taking no
+chances. Also, just before I left I gave your future daughter-in-law her
+quarterly dividend--you see, when her father died I had to sort of look
+after the family, and I ran a bluff that Kenyon had some Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company stock--you know, Joe. Proud stuff! I had to hornswoggle
+them. Well, as I say, I gave her the money, and my girl Florry went
+shopping with her. Sports clothes? Wow! Wow! White skirts, blue jersey,
+little sailor hat--man--oh, man, the stage is set to the last detail!
+I even had them ship a piano. Doris plays the guitar and has a pleasing
+voice, and just for good measure I threw in a crackajack cabinet
+phonograph and a hundred records with enough sentimental drip to sink
+the schooner."
+
+Joe Gurney stared at his old friend rather helplessly and shook his
+head. Such finesse was beyond his comprehension.
+
+"You see, now," Cappy continued, "the wisdom of my course? I insisted
+that you cut off Joey's allowance and get him hungry for money. You
+did--and he got hungry. He would have been posted at his clubs in thirty
+days; it is probable he owed a few bets here and there; his tailor may
+have needed money. Consequently, by the time I arrived on the scene
+he was ripe for any legitimate enterprise that would bring him in the
+needful funds; we arranged the enterprise and he promptly smothered
+it. Right off, Joe, your son said to himself: 'It will be almost a year
+before I come into my inheritance, and in the interim I'm going to get
+married, and a married man who lives on the scale my wife will expect
+me to assume is going to need a lot more money than a clerkship in his
+father's shipping office will bring him. Now, there's Tootsy-Wootsy
+out in Reno with a five months' sentence staring her in the eye before
+she'll be free to marry me, and I can't very well go out to Reno to
+visit her without running the risk of incurring my father's displeasure
+or the tongue of gossip. Consequently, I have five months' time to kill,
+also, and how better can I kill it than by a jolly sea voyage in a bally
+old lumber hooker? I can easily win twenty-five thousand dollars from my
+godfather, and that twenty-five thousand will carry us along until dad
+turns over my mother's estate to me. Fine business! I'll go to it.' And,
+Joe, he's done gone! Of course I'm going to win his twenty-five thousand
+bet because he doesn't know what it means to discharge a vessel in Sobre
+Vista, and Mike Murphy has orders from me to hire all the available
+stevedores there to do something else while Joey is trying to hire them
+to discharge the _Tyee_. Don't worry, Joe! The country is safe in the
+capable hands of Mike Murphy."
+
+"I see. And the twenty-five thousand dollars you will win from Joey--"
+
+"Will reimburse me for the extraordinary expense I've been to in saving
+your son. If Joey's end of the bet doesn't cover I'll nick you, Joseph,
+although I figure Joey's end of it will pay the fiddler. He won't
+miss it out of his two millions. Besides, I've noticed that the only
+experience worth while is the kind you pay real money for--and Joey has
+to buy his experience the same as the rest of us."
+
+Five days later Cappy Ricks dropped into the Red Funnel Line and laid a
+telegram on old Joe Gurney's desk.
+
+"Read that," he commanded, "and see if you can't work up a couple of
+cheers."
+
+Gurney read:
+
+"Aberdeen, Wash., June 3, 1916
+
+"Alden P. Ricks
+
+"Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York
+
+"Joey arrived bung up and bilge free. Had loaded and hauled into stream,
+waiting for him. Came out in launch, climbed Jacob's ladder and stood
+on rail, sizing up ship. Saw Doris and almost fell face down on deck. He
+says Doris is a dream, she says Joey is a dear. Take it from me, boss,
+it is all over but the wedding bells.
+
+"M. CUPID MURPHY."
+
+Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his and shook it
+heartily.
+
+"My worries are over, Alden," he declared. "You have, indeed, been my
+friend in need."
+
+"My troubles and Joey's are just commencing, however," Cappy retorted
+blithely. "However--'never trouble trouble until trouble troubles
+you' is my motto. Where's that hundred-and-six-foot schooner yacht of
+Joey's?"
+
+"She's at her moorings in Greenpoint Basin. Why?"
+
+"I want to borrow her for a cruise to San Francisco, via the Panama
+Canal. Joey and his bride can sail her back. May I have her, to do what
+I please with, Joe?"
+
+"Alden, don't ask foolish questions. Take her and God bless you! Joey
+owns her, but I pay the bills; so her skipper takes orders from me."
+
+Two days later Joey's schooner _Seafarer_ was standing out to sea past
+Sandy Hook, but Cappy Ricks was not aboard her, for that ingenious
+schemer had boarded a train and gone back to San Francisco and his
+lumber and ships.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Cappy Ricks' meditations were interrupted by a knock at the door of his
+private office.
+
+"Come in," he piped, and his son-in-law, Captain Matt Peasley, stuck his
+head in.
+
+"The _Tyee_ is sailing in, Cappy," he announced. "The Merchants'
+Exchange has just telephoned."
+
+"It's an infernal lie," Cappy shrilled excitedly. "It can't be the
+_Tyee_. If it is, she's two months ahead of her schedule, and by the
+Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I fixed up that schedule myself."
+
+Matt Peasley grinned.
+
+"Perhaps Joey didn't like your schedule and re-arranged it to suit
+himself," he suggested.
+
+"Impossible! That infernal young scoundrel put it over me? Preposterous!
+Why, Mike Murphy was on the job. Get out, Matt, and don't come in here
+again today throwing scares into the old man."
+
+Nevertheless, Cappy's confidence in human nature was badly jarred when
+Captain Michael J. Murphy was announced two hours later. Indeed Cappy
+could scarcely credit his sense of sight when the redoubtable Michael
+entered the room. He glared at the worthy fellow over the rims of his
+spectacles for fully a minute while Murphy stood fidgeting just inside
+the doorway.
+
+"Well," said the Blue Star despot presently, "all I've got to say to
+you, Mike Murphy, is that you're certainly a hell of a seaman to stand
+idly by and see that young Joey do me up like this. Give an account of
+yourself!"
+
+"They're engaged," Murphy protested valiantly.
+
+"That's my work, Mike, not yours. Don't take any credit that isn't
+coming to you. I want a report on your end of this deal. How does it
+happen that this boy harpoons me for twenty-five thousand dollars?
+Have the _cargadores_ at Sobre Vista gone on the water wagon? Did Joey
+out-bid you for their services? Have they added a lot more lighters to
+their lighterage fleet? Has the surf quit rolling in on the beach? Have
+the inhabitants of Sobre Vista been converted to the Mohammedan faith
+and declined to celebrate saints' days and holy days? Is there smallpox
+in the town, that the quietus has been put on fiestas and fandangoes,
+and has Peru been annexed by Chile and the celebration of the national
+holidays forbidden?"
+
+"No, Mr. Ricks. It's the same old _manana_ burg. The trouble was that
+Joey is a better sailorman than he appeared to be. He cracked on all the
+way down and made a smashing voyage, and, of course, as soon as we got
+there he went ashore. Two other schooners were there ahead of us. One
+was loading general cargo and the other was discharging it, and when
+Joey heard they had been there a month he investigated conditions and
+saw where you had him. Mr. Ricks, he came back as mad as a hatter. Of
+course I saw he would have to wait until the other schooners were out of
+the way before he could begin discharging, because they had first call
+on the lighters; so in view of the situation and the fact that Miss
+Murphy and Doris were a bit tired of the ship and wanted to go ashore
+and see the back country, I organized a trip for them."
+
+"You left Joey aboard the Tyee, of course."
+
+"Yes, sir. And there's where I made my fatal break. The minute my back
+was turned the son of a pirate got busy. It appears there was a six-inch
+waste pipe leading from the crew's lavatory out under the stern of the
+ship, and this pipe had rusted away and broken off at the flange just
+inside the skin of the ship sometime during the vessel's previous
+voyage. Of course it happened while she was homeward bound in ballast,
+and was standing so high out of the water that this vent where the pipe
+was broken was above the waterline; consequently not enough of a leak
+developed to be noticeable. At the mill dock, however, after we got
+her under-deck cargo aboard, the vessel had settled until this vent was
+under water, and immediately she developed a mysterious leak. In fact,
+due to the enormous pressure, the water came in faster than the pumps
+could handle it. Fortunately, however, we discovered where the leak was,
+though it was then too late to mend it. To do so we would have had to
+take out the under-deck cargo again. So I just whittled out a six-inch
+wooden plug, fastened it to the end of the boat hook, ran it down the
+narrow space through which the broken pipe led, found the vent, hammered
+the plug home, stopped the leak, pumped out the well, finished taking on
+cargo and sailed for Sobre Vista."
+
+"A small leak will sink a great ship," Cappy Ricks murmured. "I think I
+anticipate the blow-off, Mike; but proceed."
+
+"Unfortunately for us that cargo of lumber we had was for the Peruvian
+government. They were going to use it in the construction of barracks
+or a new customhouse or something--and Joey knew this. And he knew about
+that plug. So the minute my back was turned he pulled out the plug
+and the water came in and trickled all through the cargo and the ship
+commenced to settle. But Joey didn't care. He knew a little salt water
+couldn't hurt the lumber. When the top of the _Tyee's_ rail was flush
+with the water he plugged the hole again, got his crew busy with the
+pumps, and by judiciously plugging and unplugging that leak he kept the
+crew pumping all day and all night without raising the vessel an inch,
+and the people ashore could see the streams of water cascading overside
+and the crew pumping like mad. And presently Joey gave up, went ashore,
+sought the captain of the port and put up a hard luck story about a leak
+in his ship--a leak he couldn't find anywhere--a leak that was getting
+away from him, because his men were too exhausted to do any more
+pumping. And he said his ship would get water-logged and settle until
+the surf began to break over her. And presently the deck lashings would
+part under the battering of the surf and the deck load would go by the
+board. Half of it would drift out to sea, and the other half would pound
+on the beach and get filled with sand, which would dull the saws and
+planes of the carpenters when they came to cut it up. Also, the ship's
+cabin would be sure to go, and unless he had help he would have to
+abandon the vessel and she would lie there, submerged, at anchor, a
+menace to the navigation of the port."
+
+"The scoundrel! The in-fer-nal young scoundrel!" cried Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Well, he got away with it, sir. Remember our cargo was for the Peruvian
+government and they'd had the devil's own time getting it; consequently
+they couldn't afford to lose any part of it and have their anchorage
+ground menaced by a derelict. So the captain of the port took it up
+with the commandant of the local garrison, and the commandant, as Joey
+expressed it, heard the Macedonian cry and got busy. He commandeered all
+the lighters the other schooners were using; the soldiers rounded up the
+_cargadores_ at the point of the bayonet, and they started discharging
+the American schooner _Tyee_, with the spiggoty soldiers swelling
+Joey's crew at the pumps and Joey doing business with that wooden plug
+according to the requirements. Fortunately there weren't any surf days
+that week, and the way the cargo poured out of the _Tyee_ was a shame
+and a disgrace. And when it was all out Joey plugged the leak again,
+pumped out the ship, and wired me at Mollendo to hurry back with the
+ladies or he'd sail without me. So you can see for yourself, Mr. Ricks,
+it was a hard hand to beat. And his luck held. He cracked on all the way
+home and, as you know, sir, the _Tyee_ is fast in a breeze of wind, and
+you told me not to interfere unless he asked me to."
+
+Despite his disappointment Cappy Ricks lay back in his chair and laughed
+until he wept.
+
+"Oh, Mike," he declared, "it's worth twenty-five thousand dollars
+to know a boy who can pull one like that. What do you think of him,
+anyhow?"
+
+"He'll do. His father has spoiled him, but not altogether. I think a
+heap of him, sir. Remember I've been shipmates with him a trifle over
+four months, and that's a pretty good test."
+
+"Very well, Mike. I forgive you, my boy. I hope Miss Murphy enjoyed the
+trip. Tell her--"
+
+The door opened and Joey Gurney, accompanied by Miss Doris Kenyon
+entered unannounced.
+
+"Hello, godfather," yelled Joey joyously. He jerked the old man out of
+his chair and hugged him. "I'm back with your schooner, sir. She was
+easy to navigate, but that was a cold deck you handed me in Sobre
+Vista--"
+
+"Glad to see you, Joey, glad to see you," Cappy interrupted. "Ah, and
+here's my little secretary again. Miss Kenyon, this is a pleasure--"
+
+"Mr. Ricks," Joey interrupted him, "the lady's name is no longer Miss
+Kenyon. She is now Mrs. Joseph K. Gurney, Junior. The minute we got
+ashore at Meiggs' wharf and could shake the Murphys, who stood out till
+the last for a church wedding, we chartered a taxicab, went up to the
+City Hall, procured a license, rounded up a preacher--and got married.
+What do you know about that?"
+
+"You're as fast as a second-story worker, Joey. I shall kiss the bride."
+And Cappy did. Then he sat down and stared at the fruit of his cunning
+labors.
+
+"Well, well, well!" cried Joey. "Kick in, godfather, kick in. You owe
+me twenty-five thousand dollars, and if I'm going to support a wife I'll
+need it."
+
+Cappy summoned Mr. Skinner, who felicitated the happy pair and departed
+pursuant to Cappy's order, to make out a check for Joey.
+
+"And now," said Cappy, as he handed the groom his winnings, "you get
+out of here with your bride, Joey, and I'll telephone Florry and we'll
+organize a wedding supper. And to-morrow morning, Joey, I'd like to see
+you at ten o'clock, if you can manage to be here."
+
+Joey promised, and hastened away with his bride.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+True to his word he presented himself in Cappy's lair promptly at ten
+next morning. The old gentleman was sitting rigidly erect on the extreme
+edge of his chair; in his hand he held a typewritten statement with a
+column of figures on it, and he eyed Joey very appraisingly over the
+rims of his spectacles.
+
+"My boy," he said solemnly, "sit down. I'm awfully glad you cabled that
+hula-hula girl of yours in Reno that the stuff was all off."
+
+Joey's mouth flew open.
+
+"Why--why, how did you know?" he gasped.
+
+"I know everything, Joey. I'm that kind of an old man."
+
+Joey paled.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks," he pleaded, "for heaven's sake don't let a whisper of
+that affair reach my wife." He wrung his hands. "I told her she was the
+only girl I had ever loved--that I'd never been engaged before--that
+I--oh, godfather, if she ever discovers I've lied to her--"
+
+"She'll not discover it. Compose yourself, Joey. I've seen to all that.
+I knew you'd give Doris the same old song and dance; everybody's doing
+it, you know, so I took pains to see to it that you'll never have to eat
+your words."
+
+"I must have been crazy to engage myself to that woman," Joey wailed.
+"I don't know why I did it--I don't know how it happened--Oh, Mr. Ricks,
+please believe me!"
+
+"I do, Joey, I do. I understand perfectly, because at the tender age of
+twenty-four I proposed marriage to a snake-charmer lady in the old Eden
+Musee. She was forty years old if she was a day, but she carried her
+years well and hid the wrinkles with putty, or something. Barring a
+slight hare-lip, she was a fairly handsome woman--in the dark." He
+reached into a compartment of his desk and drew forth a package of
+letters tied with red ribbon. "You can have these, Joey," he announced;
+"only I shouldn't advise keeping them where your wife may find them.
+They are your letters to your Honolulu lady."
+
+Joey let out a bleat of pure ecstacy and seized them.
+
+"You haven't read them, sir, have you?" he queried, blushing
+desperately.
+
+"Oh, yes, my boy. I had to, you know, because I was buying something and
+I wanted to make certain I got value received. Pretty gooey stuff, Joey!
+Read aloud, they sound like a cow's hoof settling into a wet meadow!"
+
+"I'm so glad she took it sensibly," Joey announced, for he was anxious
+to change the topic of conversation. "I suppose she saw it was the only
+way."
+
+"No, she didn't, my son. Don't flatter yourself. On your way out West to
+join the _Tyee_ you wrote her every day on the train. You told her about
+your bet with me, and who I was and all about me. Lucky for you that you
+did, and doubly lucky for you that you cabled her the jilt from Sobre
+Vista, or she would not have come to me with her troubles. Joey, that
+must have taken courage on your part. It's mighty hard for a gentleman
+to cable a lady and break an engagement. That's the lady's privilege,
+Joey."
+
+"I--I was desperate, Mr. Ricks. I had to. I had to have her out of the
+way by the time I got back, or Doris might have found it out. You see, I
+wanted to clear the atmosphere."
+
+"Well, you clouded it for fair! You see, Joey, in all those letters it
+appears that you never once mentioned the words marriage or engagement.
+But your cablegram was an admission that an engagement existed, and the
+lady was smart enough to realize that. It appears also that about a week
+after you cleared for Sobre Vista her annoying husband was killed by a
+taxicab in New York, so that saved her any divorce proceedings; and
+when your cablegram reached her she was a single lady who had been
+heartlessly jilted. The first thing she did was to hire a lawyer, and
+the first person that lawyer called on was Alden P. Ricks, the old
+family friend. It appears a suit for breach of promise was to be
+instituted unless a fairly satisfactory financial settlement could be
+arrived at."
+
+"How much did she want?" Joey barely whispered the words.
+
+"Only a million."
+
+"How much did you settle for? I'll pay it out of my inheritance, Mr.
+Ricks. Don't worry! I won't see you stuck, for you've stood by me
+through thick and thin."
+
+"Why, I didn't give her anything, Joey. I just had her lawyer bring her
+on to San Francisco for a conference. Of course when lunch time came
+round and I hadn't heard any proposition I felt I could submit to your
+father, I invited Miss Fontaine and her lawyer to luncheon with me in
+the Palace Hotel Grill, and while we were lunching, who should come
+up and greet me but my old friend, the Duke of Killiekrankie, formerly
+Duncan MacGregor, first mate of our barkentine _Retriever_. Mac is an
+excellent fellow and for some time I had felt he merited promotion. So I
+made him a duke.
+
+"Well, the duke was awfully glad to see me, and being a gentleman I
+couldn't do less than introduce him to the lady and her lawyer. He only
+stayed at our table a minute and then rejoined his friends, but
+all during the meal I could see Betsy Jane's mind wasn't on her
+breach-of-promise suit. She asked me several questions about the duke,
+and I told her I didn't know much about him except that he was sinfully
+rich and a globe-trotter, and that we'd met in Paris. Lies, Joey, but
+pardonable, I hope, under the circumstances.
+
+"Well, Joey, it seems that she and the duke were registered at the same
+hotel and I'll be shot if his lordship didn't meet her--by accident, of
+course--in the lobby that afternoon. He lifted his hat and she smiled
+and they had a chat. The next day she cut an engagement with her lawyer
+and me to go motoring with the duke in my French car, and Florry's
+chauffeur driving, for, of course, the duke was an expensive luxury and
+I was trying to save a dollar wherever possible. That night the duke
+gave a dinner party in honor of the lady--and he gave it aboard his
+yacht, the _Doris_, formerly the _Seafarer_, right out here in San
+Francisco harbor--"
+
+Joey went up and put his arm round Cappy's shoulders.
+
+"Oh, Cappy Ricks, Cappy Ricks!" he cried, and then his voice broke and
+his eyes filled with tears.
+
+"Yes," Cappy continued, "I had sort o' suspected she might pull that
+breach-of-promise stuff on you, Joey--"
+
+"What made you suspect it?"
+
+"Why, I sort of suspected you were going to marry Doris Kenyon--"
+
+"You planned to get us together on the same ship--!"
+
+"Only place I could think of where you were safe from the Honolulu lady
+and couldn't run away from Doris, Joey. Well, as I say, I had sort of
+suspected she might sue you and disgrace you and break the heart of that
+little girl I'd picked out for you long before you ever met her--so I
+started to get there first and with the heaviest guns, I borrowed your
+yacht for the duke and had him sail her round himself, so he'd have her
+here to give the dinner party on. Then I got a Burke's peerage and told
+MacGregor who he was and had him study up on his family history and
+get acquainted with his sister, Lady Mary, and his younger brother, the
+Honorable Cecil Something-or-other--in particular he was not to forget
+to rave about the grouse shooting in Scotland."
+
+Cappy paused and puffed his cigar meditatively for half a minute.
+
+"Joey," he continued, "any time you run a bluff, run a good one.
+If you're starring a globe-trotting duke, have his ancestry all
+straightened out in advance, because he's bound to break into the
+newspapers and the motto of the newspaper editor is 'Show me.' And the
+yacht--just one of the props of the comedy, Joey; and with a little
+cockney steward in livery to say 'Your ludship'; and the name of the
+yacht changed in case she'd ever heard you speak about the _Seafarer;_
+and the cabin done over in white enamel with mahogany trim; and a new
+set of dishes with your family crest and the name of the yacht on
+every piece in case you had ever had her aboard; and a private
+secretary--borrowed him from my general manager, Skinner, by the way--we
+were certainly there when it came to throwing the ducal front. And we
+got away with it, for MacGregor's accent is just Scotchy enough, and he
+comes of good family and has excellent manners. Yes, I must say Mac made
+a very comfortable duke. Skinner's young man tells me it would bring
+tears of joy to your eyes to see him kiss the lady's hand.
+
+"Well, Joey, the upshot of it was that after paying violent court to the
+lady for two weeks--Mac said he could have pulled the stunt the night of
+the dinner, for she fell for the title right way, but I told him to make
+haste slowly--the duke received a cablegram calling him home from his
+furlough. Oh, yes, Joey, I had him in the army. Any young unattached
+duke that doesn't join the British army these days doesn't get by in
+good society, and I had my duke on a six months' furlough to recover
+from his wounds. Fortunately a bunch of cedar shingles had fallen on
+Mac's foot recently and he was dog lame, which strengthened the play.
+
+"Of course the duke was up in the air right away. In a passionate scene
+he confessed his love for that damsel of yours, Joey, and laid his
+dukedom at her feet. Would she marry him P. D. Q. and help him sail the
+yacht home? Would she? 'Oh, darling, this is so sudden!' she cried, and
+almost swooned in his arms. From a cabaret to a dukedom. Some jump!
+Sail the yacht home to England through the mine fields and submarines?
+Perfectly ripping, by Jove! I give you my word, Joey, she tacked on one
+of those New York British accents for the duke's special benefit. There
+was a lot of beam to her _a_'s, Mac told me, but blamed little molded
+depth to her mentality. So they were married in haste, and after the
+duke had seen his bride in the elevator bound for their rooms at the
+hotel, he excused himself to get a highball. And I guess he got the
+highball, because I find it in this expense account he turned in to me."
+
+"It sounds like a fairy tale," Joey murmured in an awed voice. "What did
+the duke do next?"
+
+"Came right down to this office and informed me he was, plumb weary of
+the life of a bon vivant and was anxious to get to sea again. So I made
+him master of a new steamer we acquired recently, and he's gone out to
+Vladivostok with munitions for the Russians."
+
+"But didn't you give him some money, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"No. Why should I? Didn't I give him command of a steamer? You can slip
+him a fat check if you feel that way about it, but I never coddle my
+skippers, Joey, until I'm sure they're worth while. I think, however,
+that Mac will make good. He's very thorough."
+
+"Wha--what became of Ernestine?"
+
+"Oh, by Godfrey, that's a sad story, Joey. It seems she waited at the
+hotel for the duke to come back and he didn't come, so the following
+morning she went down to the water front looking for the yacht--and the
+yacht was gone. During the night I'd had it towed over to Sausalito;
+consequently the launchman she hired couldn't find it down in Mission
+Bay, and back to the beach she came. After a couple of days had passed,
+however, she commenced to smell a rat, so she came down to my office and
+asked me if I'd seen anything of the duke.
+
+"'Why, yes, I have,' I told her. 'The old duke came in here yesterday
+afternoon, soused to the guards, and complaining he'd been cruelly
+deceived into marrying a two-time loser with a couple of youngsters,
+and inasmuch as he was certain the family wouldn't receive her he was
+leaving the United States immediately, never to return.
+
+"'And this morning the justice of the peace who performed the ceremony
+mailed him the license, which has been duly recorded in the office
+of the Secretary of State in accordance with law; and inasmuch as the
+license was sent to him in my care I am holding it in our safe until he
+calls for it.'
+
+"Well, Joey, she looked at me and she knew the stuff was all off. She'd
+married the duke; I had the license to prove it, and of course she
+realized her breach of promise suit and claim for a million dollars'
+worth of heart balm would be laughed out of court if she had the crust
+to present it. So she did the next best thing. She abused me like a
+pickpocket and ended up by getting hysterical when I told her how I'd
+swindled her. When she got through crying I lectured her on the error of
+her ways and suggested that inasmuch as she had had one divorce already,
+another wouldn't be much of a strain on her, and I'd foot the bill for
+separating her legally from John Doe, alias the duke, on a charge of
+desertion. Then I offered her a thousand dollars and a ticket back to
+New York for the surrender of all your letters to her and that infernal
+cablegram and a release of all claims against you. I guess she was broke
+for she grabbed it in a hurry, Joey. The atmosphere is now clear, my
+son, and nothing further remains to be done in the premises, save settle
+the bill of expense. Fortunately the _Tyee_ made money on that fast
+voyage under your command, but the cost of bringing the yacht round from
+New York, doing over the cabin, buying the new dishes with the crest,
+and settling with the lady should rightfully be borne by you. As I
+say, the duke was expensive, for the rascal certainly rolled 'em high.
+Skinner has made me up a statement of the total cost, with interest at
+six per cent to date, and it appears, Joey, that you owe your godfather
+$12,143.18. On the day you come into your inheritance, add six per cent
+to that sum and send me a check."
+
+"But the twenty-five thousand dollars I won from you--" Joey began, but
+Cappy held up a rigid finger, enjoining silence.
+
+"I am going to stick your dub of a father for that, as a penance for his
+sins of omission, Joey; for by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if ever a
+boy won a bet and was entitled to it, you're that young man. In-fer-nal
+young scoundrel! Keep it and split fifty-fifty with your wife. You won
+a straight bet from a crooked gambler, and if I haven't had a million
+dollars' worth of fun out of this transaction I hope I may marry a
+hula-hula woman--and I've passed my three score and ten and ought to
+know better!"
+
+"But about this man MacGregor--"
+
+"Don't worry about him. The Scotch are a hardy race and Mac is a sailor.
+Joey, I know sailors. The scoundrels have a wife in every port!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+During the period when Joey Gurney was busy doing all that Cappy
+Ricks desired him to do and some things that were slightly off Cappy's
+program, the president emeritus of the Blue Star Navigation Company and
+allied interests was discovering that it is one thing to declare for the
+simple life and quite another to live it. The Great War challenged
+so much of the Ricks interest that he could not bear to live far
+from morning and evening editions--and he wanted them red hot off the
+presses. Things were doing in the shipping world. The most inconceivable
+trades were being consummated daily, freights were soaring, lumber
+prices had reached an unprecedentedly high level and promised to go
+higher; there was something doing every minute and not enough minutes
+in a working day to accommodate half of these somethings. What more
+natural, therefore, than that Cappy presently should find himself caught
+in the maelstrom, even though he told himself daily that, come what
+might _he_ would keep out of it.
+
+The first indefinite evidence that he was about to be engulfed came in
+the form of a newspaper story, ex the steamer _Timaru_, from Sydney, via
+Tahiti. There it was, as big as a church--a paragraph of it, tucked away
+in a column-and-a-half story of the bombardment of Papeete by the German
+Pacific fleet early in September of 1914:
+
+"An incident of the bombardment was the sinking of the German freight
+steamer _Valkyrie_ by shells from the German fleet. The vessel had been
+captured by the French gunboat _Zeile_ some weeks previous and was at
+anchor in the harbor, under the guns of the _Zeile_, when the German
+squadron appeared off the entrance. The gunboat immediately was made the
+target for the German guns, and sunk. During the attack, however, a wild
+shell missed the _Zeile_ and struck the _Valkyrie_, tearing a great hole
+in her hull and causing her to sink in ten fathoms at her anchorage."
+
+Ten fathoms! Sixty feet! Why, at that depth Cappy should have known that
+her masts and funnel would be above water; that in all probability
+she carried war-risk insurance; that she was so far from anywhere the
+underwriters would have abandoned her, even had she not been a prize of
+war, since there are no appliances in Papeete for salving a vessel of
+her size; that she could be raised if one cared to spend a little money
+on doing it; that one projectile probably had not ruined her beyond
+repair; that she was a menace to navigation in Papeete Harbor and hence
+would have to be gotten out of the way, either by dynamite or auction;
+that--well, any number of thats should have occurred to Cappy Ricks
+to suggest the advisability of keeping track of the wreck of the
+_Valkyrie_. However, for some mysterious reasons--his resentment against
+the German cause, probably--the golden prospect never appealed to him,
+for when he had finished reading the article he merely said:
+
+"Well, what do you know about that? Skinner, it's a mighty lucky thing
+for that German admiral that I'm not the Kaiser, for I'd certainly make
+him hard to catch. The idea of sinking that fine steamer--and a German
+steamer at that! Here was the little old French gunboat, about as
+invulnerable as a red-cedar shingle; and instead of moving into proper
+position and raking her with their light guns--instead of calling on her
+to surrender--these Germans had to go to work in a hurry and inaugurate
+a campaign of frightfulness. The minute they were off the harbor--Zowie!
+Blooey! Bam! It was all over but the cheering, and they'd chucked an
+eight-inch projectile through a ship that was worth four of the gunboat.
+
+"Skinner, that's what I call spilling the beans. Why they didn't take
+their time, recapture that freighter and give her skipper a chance to
+hustle across to San Francisco or Honolulu and intern, is a mystery to
+me. The idea! Why, for that German fleet to waste ammunition on that
+Jim-Crow town and a hand-me-down gunboat was equivalent to John L.
+Sullivan whittling out a handle on a piece of two-by-four common fir in
+order to attack a cockroach!"
+
+Cappy was so incensed that he growled about the Germans for an hour.
+Then he forgot the _Valkyrie_, notwithstanding the fact that the press
+jogged his memory again when the German fleet, deciding that prudence
+was the better part of valor, fled from the Pacific to escape the
+Japanese, only to be destroyed in the South Atlantic by the British
+fleet. A resume of the operations of the German squadron in the
+Pacific brought forth mention of the destruction of the _Zeile_ and the
+_Valkyrie_. However, Cappy's mind was not in Tahiti now, but off the
+Falkland Islands, for he was very much pro-Ally and devoted more thought
+to military and naval strategy than he did to the lumber and shipping
+business.
+
+However, the climax of Cappy's indignation over the disaster to
+the _Valkyrie_ was not attained until a few months later when, in
+conversation on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange with the skipper
+of the schooner _Tarus_, who happened to have been in Papeete at
+the bombardment, he learned he had done the German admiral a grave
+injustice. He came back to his office, boiling, declaring the French
+were a crazy nation, and that, after all, he could recall meeting one or
+two fine Germans during the course of a fairly busy career. He summoned
+Mr. Skinner and Matt Peasley to hear the sordid tale.
+
+"Remember that steamer _Valkyrie_ the Germans were supposed to have sunk
+by accident in the harbor of Papeete during the bombardment in September
+of 1914?" he queried.
+
+"I believe I read something about it in the papers at the time," Mr.
+Skinner replied.
+
+"What about her?" Matt Peasley demanded.
+
+"Why, the Germans didn't sink her at all, Matt! The Frenchmen did it,"
+Cappy shrilled. "The crazy, frog-eating jumping-jacks of Frenchmen! The
+tramp wasn't flying the German flag--naturally the Frenchmen had hauled
+it down; so the Germans didn't investigate her. Besides, they were in a
+hurry--you'll remember the Japs were on their trail at the time; so they
+just devoted forty minutes to shooting up the town, and beat it. I don't
+suppose they ever knew they hit the _Valkyrie_; perhaps they figured
+that, having sunk the gunboat, the _Valkyrie_ could up hook and away at
+her leisure, since there was nothing left to prevent her.
+
+"Huh! Makes me sick to talk about it; but the skipper of the _Taurus_
+was there at the time and he tells me that, though the _Valkyrie_
+was pretty well down by the stern, her bulkheads were holding and she
+wouldn't have sunk if those blamed Frenchmen, fearful that the German
+fleet was coming back after her, hadn't gone aboard and opened her sea
+cocks! Yes, sir. Rather than risk having her recaptured, they opened her
+sea cocks and sunk her! And, at that, they didn't have sense enough to
+run her out to deep water. No! They had to do the trick as she lay at
+anchor; and there she lies still, a menace to navigation and a perennial
+reminder to those Papeete Frenchmen that he who acts in haste will
+repent at leisure."
+
+To this outburst Mr. Skinner made some perfunctory remark, attributing
+the situation to a lack of efficiency, while Matt Peasley went back to
+his office and grieved as he reflected on the corrosive action of salt
+water on those fine, seven-year-old engines.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+Time passed. Mr. Skinner developed a pallor and irritability that
+bespoke all too truly an attack of nerves, from overwork, and sore
+against his will was hustled off to Honolulu for a rest while Cappy
+Ricks had the audacity to take charge of the lumber business. Whereupon
+Mr. J. Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, discovered
+the unprotected condition of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company and
+promptly, in sheer wanton deviltry, proceeded to sew Cappy Ricks up on
+an order for a million grape stakes.
+
+A word here regarding the said J. Augustus Redell. He was a blithe,
+joyous creature, still in the sunny thirties, and what he didn't
+know about the lumber business--particularly the marketing of lumber
+products--could be tucked into anybody's eyes without impairing their
+eyesight. Mr. Redell had fought his way up from office boy with the
+Black Butte Lumber Company to lumber broker with offices of his own. He
+had owned a retail yard in which business he had gone "bust" for more
+money than the world appeared to contain. But he had fought his way back
+and paid a hundred cents on the dollar, including some hundred and
+forty thousand dollars he had owed the Ricks mills at the time of his
+collapse. Because he was young and fine and good-natured and brave and
+brilliant, Cappy had always admired J. Augustus Redell, but after
+the latter had so splendidly re-established his credit and formed a
+partnership with a Peruvian gentleman, one Senor Luiz Almeida, known
+locally as Live Wire Luiz, Cappy found that he had for the genial
+J. Augustus an admiration that amounted to affection. The West Coast
+Trading Company, under which title Live Wire Luiz and J. Augustus Redell
+did a lumber brokerage business with Mexico, Central American and South
+American countries principally, had Cappy Ricks' entire confidence,
+although he would have died rather than admit this. Live Wire Luiz he
+ignored and always dismissed as a factor in the affairs of that company,
+but whenever Redell had a deal on that was too heavy for his financial
+sinews, Cappy could always be depended upon to lend a helping hand. On
+his part, Redell revered Cappy Ricks as only an idealistic and naturally
+lovable rascal of a boy can revere an idealistic and lovable old man.
+To J. Augustus Redell little, old, naive, whimsical, gentle, terrible,
+brilliant, cunning, generous, altruistic, prudent, youthful old Cappy
+Ricks was a joy forever. With the impishness of his tender years, Mr.
+Redell could conceive of no greater joy than picking on Cappy Ricks just
+to see the latter fight back.
+
+Quite early in their friendship, the astute Redell discovered a rift in
+Cappy's armor--two rifts, in fact. The first was that Cappy feared and
+loathed old age and fiercely resented even the most shadowy intimation
+that with age he was, to employ a sporting phrase, "losing his punch."
+The second weakness that lay exposed to Redell was Cappy's passion for
+wringing a profit, by ingenious means, from apparently barren soil where
+no profit had ever hitherto burgeoned. At heart Cappy was a speculator;
+only the fact that he was a prudent and careful speculator had conduced
+to enrich him rather than impoverish him.
+
+Now, Cappy was fully convinced, from optical evidence, that J. Augustus
+Redell was a gambler. He admired Redell's genius for business, the
+soundness of his decisions, the alertness of his mind and the brilliance
+of his financial _coups_, but--he deprecated the younger man's daring.
+Cappy called it recklessness. By degrees the old gentleman had come to
+assume a proprietary interest in Gus Redell and the latter's affairs,
+for the younger man frequently sought counsel from Cappy and not
+infrequently, a loan! Cappy knew his young friend to be the soul of
+manly honor, but--he was young! Ah, yes! He was young. Ergo, he was
+foolish. True, his foolishness had not as yet been discovered, but Cappy
+was certain it would come to the surface sooner or later. The boy
+was reckless--a gambler. Cappy abhorred gambling. He never gambled.
+Occasionally he speculated! What more natural, therefore, than that
+little Cappy should presently arrogate to himself the privilege of
+stabbing young J. Augustus to the vitals from time to time, just to
+impress upon the boy the knowledge that this is a hard, cold, cruel
+world with a great many bad men in it!
+
+Nothing could possibly have delighted Redell more. Whenever Cappy
+stabbed him, forthwith he set about to stab Cappy in return, and thus
+had developed a joyous business feud. These best of friends spent an
+hour and a half daily, at luncheon, "picking" on each other, telling
+tales on each other, eternally "joshing" for the edification of a
+coterie of their lumber and shipping friends who always lunched in a
+private dining room at the Commercial Club and who were known within
+that organization as the Bilgewater Club.
+
+Early in 1915 Redell had seen an opportunity for inducing Cappy Ricks to
+speculate in grape stakes--to his financial hurt and humiliation. There
+was to be an election that fall--a special election to see whether
+California should "go dry" or "stay wet," and for some reason not quite
+apparent to Mr. Redell, a great many people believed the state would
+"go dry." Among the people who so believed, Redell discovered, were the
+woodsmen who, during the winter of 1914, would, under normal conditions,
+have split from redwood trees sufficient grape stakes to support such
+new vineyards as would come into bearing in the fall of 1915. Fearing
+that there would be no market for their grape stakes when the making of
+wine should be prohibited by law, these woodsmen had made no effort
+to supply the demand; wherefore the Machiavellian J. Augustus Redell,
+taking advantage of Mr. Skinner's absence from the office of the Ricks
+mills, cleverly managed to inculcate in Cappy Ricks the idea that it
+would be a splendid and profitable venture if he, the said Cappy, should
+wade into the grape stake market and corner it. The idea appealed to the
+speculative part of the old gentleman's nature and he had gone to work
+in a hurry, only to discover, after he had accepted orders from the
+West Coast Trading Company for a great many carloads of grape stakes for
+future delivery, that, when the day of reckoning should come, he would
+not be enabled to pick up enough grape stakes to fill his orders, for
+the very sufficient reason that nobody had manufactured grape stakes for
+that year's market, and they were not available at any price!
+
+It had been a cruel blow and Cappy's weakness had been exposed
+without mercy to the members of the Bilgewater Club by Mr. Redell, who
+thereafter kept both eyes wide open, knowing that sooner or later Cappy
+would retaliate.
+
+Retaliation was, of course, inevitable. Cappy realized this. For the
+first time in his career as a lumber and shipping king the sly old dog
+realized he had been out-thought, out-played, out-gamed and man-handled
+by a mere pup. And, though he had taken his beating like the rare old
+sport that he was, nevertheless the leaves of memory had a horrible
+habit of making a most melancholy rustling; and for two weeks, following
+his ignominious rout at the hands of J. Augustus Redell, Cappy's
+days and nights were entirely devoted to scheming ways and means of
+vengeance. Curiously enough, it was the West Coast Trading Company that
+accorded him the opportunity he craved.
+
+Having massacred Cappy in the grape-stake deal and established an
+unlimited credit thereby, the West Coast Lumber Company, per Senor
+Felipe Luiz Almeida, alias Live Wire Luiz, decided to purchase a little
+jag of spruce from the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company. Cappy Ricks
+looked at the proffered order, saw that it called for number one clear
+spruce, and promptly accepted it at a dollar under the market. He was
+to bring the spruce in to San Francisco on one of his own schooners,
+lay her alongside the _City of Panama_ and discharge it into her, for
+delivery at Salina Cruz, Mexico.
+
+Cappy knew, of course, that Live Wire Luiz handled exclusively the West
+Coast Trading Company's Mexican, Central and South American business. He
+knew, also, that there were many points about the lumber business that
+the explosive little Peruvian had still to learn; so he decided to stab
+the West Coast Trading Company, through the innocent and trusting Senor
+Almeida, with a weapon he would not have dreamed of employing had J.
+Augustus Redell placed the order. Live Wire Luiz knew the Ricks Lumber
+& Logging Company always sold its output on mill tally and inspection;
+that Cappy Ricks' grading rules were much fairer to his customers than
+those of his competitors; that when he contracted to deliver number one
+clear spruce he would deliver exactly that and challenge anybody to pick
+a number two board out of the lot. But what Live Wire Luiz did not know
+was that there are two kinds of number one spruce on the Pacific Coast.
+One grows in California and the other in Oregon and Washington--and
+Cappy Ricks had both kinds for sale.
+
+"Aha!" Cappy murmured as he glanced over Live Wire Luiz's order after
+the latter had gone. "Number one clear spruce, eh? All right, sir! Away
+down in my wicked heart I know you want some nice number one stock from
+our Washington mill, at Port Hadlock; but unfortunately you have failed
+to stipulate it--so we'll slip you a little of the California product
+and teach you something you ought to know."
+
+Whereupon Cappy sent the order to his mill on Humboldt Bay, California.
+Though this plant manufactured redwood lumber almost exclusively,
+whenever the woods boss came across a nice spruce or bull-pine tree
+among the redwood he was wont to send it down to the mill, where it was
+sawed and set aside for trusting individuals like Live Wire Luiz.
+When seasoned this spruce was very good stock. Unfortunately, however,
+experts differ in their diagnosis of California spruce. There are those
+who will tell you it is not spruce, but a bastard fir; while others
+will tell you it is not fir, but a bastard spruce. Cappy Ricks had no
+definite ideas on the subject, for he didn't own enough of that kind of
+stumpage to grieve him. All he knew or cared was that when such outlawed
+stock was billed as spruce no judge or jury in the land could say it was
+fir; also, that in its green state it possessed an abominable odor!
+
+The lumber was delivered to the _City of Panama_ in due course and, as
+Cappy had suspected, Live Wire Luiz failed to come down to her dock
+and take a smell. This was a privilege left intact for the consignee at
+Salina Cruz; and he, according to Mexican custom, which only demands
+a ghost of an excuse to seek a rebate, promptly wired a protest and
+declared himself swindled to the extent of five dollars a thousand feet,
+gold.
+
+Also, having been similarly outraged once before, he demanded to know
+why he had been sent California spruce; whereupon Live Wire Luiz called
+up Cappy Ricks, abused him roundly and sent him a bill for six dollars
+a thousand, rebate! Unfortunately for the West Coast Trading Company,
+however, it had already discounted Cappy's invoice; so the latter could
+afford to stand pat--which he did.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+Shortly after noon on the day of his small triumph over the West Coast
+Trading Company, Cappy Ricks bustled up California Street, bound for
+luncheon with the Bilgewater Club.
+
+On this day, of all days, Cappy would not have missed luncheon with the
+Bilgewater Club for a farm. As he breezed along there was a smile on his
+ruddy old face and a lilt in his kind old heart, for he was rehearsing
+his announcement to his youthful friends of how he had but recently
+tanned the hide of a brother! He almost laughed aloud as he pictured
+himself solemnly relating, in the presence of J. Augustus Redell and
+Live Wire Luiz, the tale of the ill-favored spruce, excusing his own
+mendacity the while on the ground that he wasn't a mind reader; that if
+the West Coast Lumber Company desired northern spruce they should have
+stipulated northern spruce; that, as alleged business men, it was high
+time they were made aware of the ancient principle of _caveat emptor_,
+which means, as every schoolboy knows, that the buyer must protect
+himself in the clinches and breakaways. And lastly, he planned to claim
+it the solemn duty of the aged to instruct the young and ignorant in the
+hard school of experience.
+
+Judge, therefore, of his disappointment when, on entering the lobby of
+the Merchants' Exchange Building, on the two top floors of which the
+Commercial Club is situated, he encountered Redell and Live Wire Luiz
+leaving the elevator.
+
+The West Coast Trading Company had offices in the same building and, as
+Redell carried a plethoric suit case, while Live Wire Luiz followed with
+a small hand bag, Cappy realized they were bound for parts unknown.
+In consequence of which he realized he had rehearsed to no purpose his
+expose of the pair before the Bilgewater Club. He halted the partners
+and secured a firm grip on the lapel of each.
+
+"Cowards!" he sneered. "Running out on me, eh? By Judas Priest, I
+just knew you didn't dast to stay and hear me tell the boys about that
+spruce. Drat you! The next time you'll know the difference between attar
+of roses and California spruce!"
+
+Redell put down his suit case, pulled out his watch, glanced at it and
+then at his partner.
+
+"Shall I tell him, Luiz?" he queried.
+
+Live Wire Luiz thereupon consulted his watch, scratched his ear and
+said:
+
+"Friend of my heart, do you theenk eet ees safe?"
+
+"Oh, yes. He isn't a bit dangerous, Luiz. He's lost all his teeth and
+all he can do now is sit and bay at the moon."
+
+Live Wire Luiz shrugged.
+
+"I theenk maybe so you are right, _amigo mio_. The steamer she will
+go to depart in half an hour, an' that ees not time for thees ol'
+high-binder to do somet'ing. Eet ees what you call one stiff li'l'
+order. I admit thees spruce bandit ees pretty smart, but--" again Live
+Wire Luiz shrugged his expressive shoulders--"he ees pretty ol', no? I
+theenk to myself he have lose--what you call heem? ah, yes, he have lose
+hees punch!"
+
+"I fear he has, Luiz; so I'll tell him. At least the knowledge will
+gravel him and take all the joy out of that stinking little spruce
+swindle of his."
+
+"'Twon't neither!" Gappy challenged. "I stung you there--drat your
+picture!--and I'm glad I did it. I rejoice in my wickedness. Cost you
+five hundred dollars for making a monkey out of the old man in that
+grape-stake deal, Gus."
+
+"Why," said Redell wonderingly, "I thought you'd forgiven me that,
+Cappy."
+
+"So I have; but I haven't forgotten. Expect me to lose my self-respect
+and forget about it? No, sir! When I go into a deal and emerge in the
+red, I take a look at my loss-and-gain account and forget it; but when
+I'm ravished of my self--respect-wow! Look out below and get out from
+under! In-fer-nal young scoundrel! If I don't show you two before I die
+that I haven't lost my punch I'll come back from the grave to ha'nt you.
+Go on and spin your little tale, Augus-tus. You can't tell me anything
+that'll make me mad. What you got on your mind besides your hair, Gus?
+Out with it, boy; out with it! I'm listening."
+
+And Cappy came close to Redell and inclined his head close to the young
+fellow's breast; whereupon Redell put his lips close to Cappy's ear and
+answered hoarsely:
+
+"I'm going to Papeete to bid in that sunken German steamer, _Valkyrie_."
+
+Cappy nodded.
+
+"Huh!" he said. "Is that all? Well, when you return from Papeete you're
+going to take another journey right away."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Into the bankruptcy court first, and then up to the Home for the
+Feeble-Minded. On the level, boy, you're overdue at the foolish farm."
+
+"I'll take a chance, Cappy. All you old graybeards can do is sit on the
+fence and decry the efforts of the rising generation. You just croak and
+knock. Of course I admit that once on a time an opportunity couldn't fly
+by you so fast you wouldn't get some of the tail feathers; but that was
+a long time ago."
+
+He paused and glanced at his partner. Sorrowfully Live Wire Luiz tapped
+his forehead with his brown, cigarette-stained forefinger.
+
+"Senile decay!" Redell murmured.
+
+"Sure; I bet you, Mike!" Live Wire Luiz answered.
+
+He wagged his head lugubriously, turned aside and affected to wipe away
+a vagrant tear with his salmon-colored silk handkerchief.
+
+"Look here!" Cappy rasped. "This thing is getting personal. Never mind
+about my years, you pup. If my back is bent a trifle it's from carrying
+a load of experience and other people's mistakes. And never mind about
+my noodle! It may have a few knots and shakes in it, but they're tight
+and sound, and it's free of pitch pockets, wane and rotten streaks; so
+this old head grades as merchantable timber still.
+
+"As for your head, Gus, and that of this human firecracker with you,
+both have streaks of sap round the edges, and I'll prove it to you yet.
+No; on second thought I don't have to prove it. You've already done that
+yourself! You're going to Papeete to try to bid in the _Valkyrie_, and
+she's junk!"
+
+"Partly." Redell admitted. "She's been under water about two years and I
+suppose the teredo have digested her upper works by now; but they can be
+rebuilt quickly and without a great deal of expense."
+
+"How about her boilers? You'll have to retube them."
+
+"I don't think so. I was talking with Captain Hippard, of the
+Morrison-Hippard Line. They had the steamer _Chinook_ under water a year
+in Norton Sound, but they raised her and brought her to San Francisco
+under her own steam. You know, Cappy, it's the combination of water and
+air that makes iron and steel rust. It seems that when a boiler is under
+water and not exposed to the air it rusts very slowly; also, the rust
+is like a soft film--it doesn't pit and scale off in great flakes. And
+a couple of years under water will not do any appreciable damage to the
+_Valkyrie's_ boilers. The _Chinook_ is running yet, notwithstanding the
+fact that fifteen years ago she was submerged for a year."
+
+"Huh!" Cappy grunted.
+
+"The same condition, of course, holds true with regard to her hull, only
+more so," Redell continued. "The paint will protect the hull perfectly.
+Of course if, after getting her up, she is permitted to lie exposed to
+the air, the soft film of rust will promptly harden and scale off and
+she'll go to glory in a few months. However, nothing like that will
+happen, because the minute she's up she'll be thoroughly cleaned and
+scrubbed and painted. Of course the asbestos cover will have peeled off
+her boilers, but even at that I'll bring her to San Francisco under her
+own steam. She'll just be ungodly hot below decks and a hog for coal
+until the boilers are re-covered."
+
+Cappy sighed. He was not prepared to combat this argument, for he had a
+sneaking impression Redell was right. However, he returned undaunted to
+the attack.
+
+"She's shot full of holes," he declared.
+
+"She has one hole through her, and when she's loaded light that hole is
+above water line. The wrecking vessel that goes down to salve her will
+have steel plates, tools and mechanics aboard, and new plates can be put
+in temporarily. And if that cannot be done those holes can be patched
+with planking and cemented over."
+
+"Well, all right. Grant that. But think of her engines, Gus. Think of
+those fine, smooth bearings and polished steel rods all corroded and
+pitted by salt water. The water may not have a disastrous effect on the
+boilers and hull, but an engine can't stand any rust at all and still
+remain one hundred per cent efficient. I tell you I know, Gus. I had my
+_Amelia Ricks_ submerged on Duxbury Reef for a week; then I hauled her
+off and she lay on the tide flats in Mission Bay another three weeks
+until I could patch her up and float her into the dry dock. Do you
+know what it cost me to make her engines over again? Thirteen thousand
+dollars, young man--and, at that, they're nothing to brag of now."
+
+"Quite right; but that's because you didn't employ a German engineer and
+tell him you were going to put the _Amelia Ricks_ on Duxbury Reef. Are
+you familiar with the characteristics of German engineers, Cappy?"
+
+Cappy threw up both hands.
+
+"I'm neutral, Gus. Between them and the French it's a case of heads I
+win, tails you lose."
+
+"No, no, Cappy. You're wrong. The Germans are a careful, thrifty,
+painstaking, systematic race, and the chief of the _Valkyrie_ was the
+flower of the flock. When that little French gunboat captured her this
+chief engineer looked into the future and saw himself and the _Valkyrie_
+interned indefinitely--and he didn't like it. It just broke his heart to
+think of a stranger messing round among his engines; so the instant he
+got into Papeete and blew down his boilers he did a wise thing. He knew
+the war risk insurance would probably cover the _Valkyrie's_ loss as a
+war prize, but there was a chance that her German owners might send one
+of their hyphenated brethren down to Papeete to buy her in the prize
+court; and if that happened the chief wanted them to have a good ship.
+Perhaps, also, he figured on getting his old job back after the war. At
+any rate he got out a barrel of fine heavy grease and slobbered up his
+engines for fair."
+
+It was too much. Cappy Ricks was too fine a sport not to acknowledge a
+beating; he was too generous not to rejoice in a competitor's gain.
+
+"You lucky, lucky scoundrel!" he murmured in an awed voice. "Not enough
+salt water will get through that grease to hurt those engines. Gus, how
+did you find this all out?"
+
+"Well, you can bet your whiskers, Cappy, I didn't depend on hearsay
+evidence and water-front reporters to dig it up for me. The minute I
+heard her sea cocks had been opened and that her funnels and masts were
+sticking up out of the harbor I concluded I was interested; so I sent
+Bill Jinks, of our office, down to Papeete to get me some first-hand
+information. The chief of the _Valkyrie_ is interned there, of course."
+
+"May mad dogs bite me! Why in the name of all that's sweet and holy
+didn't I have sense enough to do that?" Cappy mourned.
+
+"You have lose the punch!" chirped Live Wire Luiz, and Cappy glared at
+him.
+
+"She's an honest vessel, Cappy."
+
+"An' what you s'pose she have in her?" Live Wire Luiz demanded. "Oh,
+notheeng very much, Senor Ricks. Just two t'ousand tons of phosphate."
+
+"Worth ten or twelve dollars a ton, Cappy."
+
+"An' t'irteen hundred tons of the good coal to bring her to San
+Francisco, _Ai_, Santa Maria!" Live Wire Luiz blew a kiss airily into
+space and added: "I die weeth dee-light!"
+
+"You haven't got her yet," Cappy snapped viciously.
+
+"No; but we'll get her all right," Redell declared confidently.
+
+"How'll you get her?"
+
+"We've only one real competitor to buck--an Australian steamship
+company. They're crazy to get her; and as there are no French bidders on
+this side of the world, naturally and in view of the present condition
+of world politics the French authorities in Papeete are pulling for the
+Britisher. Jinks is now in Papeete and I'm about to start for there at
+one o'clock. Two bids, Cappy; I'll be the dark horse and file my bid at
+the last minute, after I've sized up the lay of the land. But, before I
+do so, I'm going to take the representative of that Australian steamship
+company into my confidence and find out what he's going to bid. For
+instance, now, Cappy, if you were bidding against me, how high would you
+go?"
+
+"She's a long way from nowhere," Cappy replied thoughtfully. "It means
+sending a wrecking steamer down there with a lot of expert wreckers,
+divers, mechanics and carpenters; it means lumber for cofferdam and
+pontoons; it means donkey engines, cables, pumps, the stress of wind and
+wave--"
+
+"She lies in a protected cove, Cappy; the mean rise and fall of the
+tide, so close to the equator, is about eighteen inches, and the water
+is so clear you can always see what the divers are doing. Forget the
+stress of wind and wave."
+
+"Forty thousand dollars would be my top figure if I were the Australian
+bidder," Cappy declared, and added to himself: "But, as Alden P. Ricks,
+seventy-five might not stagger me in view of the present freight rates."
+
+"Just what I figured," Redell answered. "She'll cost us two hundred
+thousand dollars before we get her in commission again. I figure the
+Australian people will not go over forty thousand dollars. They won't
+figure Jinks as a heavyweight. I told him to create the impression that
+he was a professional wrecker--a sort of fly-by-night junk dealer, who
+would buy the vessel if he could get her at a great bargain. Then I'll
+drop quietly into Papeete, and at the eleventh hour fifty-ninth minute
+I'll slip in a bid that will top the Australian's. If by any chance
+Jinks' bid should also top the Australian's I'll just forfeit the
+certified check for ten per cent of my bid, run out and leave the ship
+to Jinks, the next highest bidder. The chances are I'll make a few
+thousand dollars at that."
+
+"How do you purpose raising her--provided you are the successful
+bidder?"
+
+"Well, she has four hatches and she lies on an even keel. I'll build a
+coffer dam on her deck round these four hatches and pump her out. If we
+have enough pumps we can pump her out faster than the water can leak
+in under the coffer dam. When I've lightened her somewhat I'll kick her
+into the shore, little by little, until she lies in shallow water with
+her bulwarks above the surface. Then I'll patch the holes in her, pump
+her out--and up she'll come, of course."
+
+"You say that so glibly," Gappy growled, "one would almost think you
+could whistle it."
+
+"Don't feel sore, Cappy. Do you know what a vessel of her age and class
+is worth nowadays? Well, I'll tell you. About sixty dollars a ton,
+dead weight capacity--and the _Valkyrie_ can carry seven thousand tons;
+that's four hundred and twenty thousand dollars--"
+
+"If you can get her up," Cappy interrupted.
+
+"If I bid her in I'll get her up. Don't worry."
+
+'"It'll clean you of your bank roll to do it."
+
+"Of course. Luiz and I aren't millionaires like you; so we'll just form
+a corporation and call it the S. S. Valkyrie Company and sell stock
+in our venture. I have you down right now for a ten-thousand-dollar
+subscription at the very least, though you can have more if you want
+it."
+
+"Gus," Cappy pleaded, "if you bid that boat in for forty thousand
+dollars I'll give you ten thousand dollars for your bargain and
+reimburse you for all the expense you've been put to."
+
+"Nothing doing, Cappy."
+
+"I'll make it--let me see--I'll make it twenty thousand."
+
+"You waste your breath. She'll pay for herself the first year she's in
+commission."
+
+"I'll furnish the sinews of war, Gus, for a half interest in her. Let me
+add her to the Blue Star Fleet and you'll never regret it."
+
+"Sorry, Cappy; but Luiz and I are ambitious. We want to get into the
+steamship business ourselves."
+
+"Well, then, I've offered to do the fair thing by you two lunatics,"
+Cappy declared with a great air of finality. "So now I'll deliver my
+ultimatum: I'm going to keep the _Valkyrie_ and not give you two as much
+as one little piece of her. Yes, sir! I'm going to send a representative
+to Papeete and match you and that Australian chap for your shoe-strings.
+Gus, you know me! If I ever go after a thing and don't get it, the man
+that takes it away from me will know he's been in a fight."
+
+"Indeed, I know it, Cappy--which is why I kept this information
+carefully to myself. However, I guess you'll not get in on this good
+thing."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You're too late for the banquet."
+
+"Not one leetle hope ees left for you, Cappy Reeks," Senor Almeida
+asserted. "The _Moana_, on which my good partner have engaged passage
+to-day, ees the last steamer which shall arrive to Papeete before the
+bids shall be open. The next steamer, Capitan Reeks ees arrive too
+late."
+
+"Yes; and the _Moana_ sails in just twenty-five minutes, Cappy. If
+you're thinking of sending a man down to bid against me you'll have to
+step lively."
+
+Cappy Ricks was now beside himself; this gentle, good-natured heckling
+had made of him a venerable Fury.
+
+"I'll cable my bid!" he shrilled.
+
+"No you won't Cappy, for the reason that there is no cable to Tahiti."
+
+"Then I'll wireless it!"
+
+"Well, you can try that, Cappy. Unfortunately, however, the only
+wireless station in Tahiti is a little, old, one-cat-power set. It can
+receive your message, but it can't send one that will reach the nearest
+wireless station--and that's at Honolulu. And until the bank in Tahiti
+can confirm drafts by wireless I imagine it will not pay them on
+presentation."
+
+Cappy surrendered. He couldn't stand any more.
+
+"Good-bye, Gus," he said. "Good luck to you! If you get that vessel
+you'll deserve her, and when you're forming the S.S. Valkyrie Company
+I'll head the list of stock subscribers with a healthy little chunk. You
+know me, Gus! I'm the old bell mare in shipping circles; a lot of others
+will follow where I lead."
+
+"I forgive you the spruce deal, Cappy. You're an awful pirate; but, for
+all that, you're a grand piece of work. God bless you!" And Redell put
+his arm round the old man affectionately. "Good-bye."
+
+And, followed by Live Wire Luiz, who was going to the dock to see his
+partner aboard the _Moana_, Redell disappeared into California Street.
+
+"Dammit!" Cappy soliloquized bitterly. "I can't eat lunch now. One bite
+would choke me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+And he turned toward the entrance to the Merchants' Exchange, being
+minded to enter a telephone booth and notify the Bilgewater Club he
+would not be present that day. As he walked through the gate into the
+Exchange, however, he was accosted by a heavy, florid-faced man carrying
+a thick woolen watch coat over his arm. This individual was Captain
+Aaron Porter, one of the San Francisco bar pilots, and he greeted Cappy
+with a respectful query after the old gentleman's health.
+
+"I don't feel very well," Cappy replied wearily. "I'm getting old,
+captain--getting old."
+
+Then he noted the watch coat the pilot was carrying and decided
+subconsciously that there could be no connection between it and the
+sultry August weather prevailing at that moment; consequently it
+informed the observant Cappy, as plainly as if it had a tongue and had
+spoken, that Captain Aaron Porter expected shortly to be exposed to
+the chill northwest winds outside as he piloted a vessel to sea. In the
+manufacture of sheer inane conversation, therefore, Cappy tugged the
+coat and said:
+
+"Going to take a ship out this afternoon, captain?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I'll be responsible for the _Moana_ until we cross the Potato
+Patch--"
+
+"The _Moana!_" Cappy cried, and pulled out his watch. "You'd better be
+stepping lively, then. She sails at one, and you have twenty minutes to
+get to Greenwich Street Pier."
+
+"Oh, there's no hurry, Mr. Ricks. She'll be delayed from half to
+three-quarters of an hour waiting for the Australian mail. The mail
+train from the East is late, and of course the _Moana_ cannot sail
+till--"
+
+"You will pardon me, captain," Cappy Ricks interrupted politely, "but
+I've just thought of a very important matter. I must run and telephone."
+
+As J. Augustus Redell had just pointed out, twenty minutes was scarcely
+ample time in which to decide on the right emissary to send to Papeete,
+get into communication with the said individual and induce him to go. In
+addition, such a person would have to have time to pack some clothing;
+also, to procure a letter of credit at the bank and purchase a ticket,
+not to mention the time requisite to receive his instructions and get to
+the steamer's dock. But with almost an hour--well, a wide-awake man
+can accomplish much in an hour, and Cappy Ricks was a natural leader of
+forlorn hopes. In the brief interval required to accomplish the journey
+from the door of the Merchants' Exchange to a telephone booth a flock of
+bright ideas capered through Cappy's ingenious head like goats on a tin
+roof.
+
+"Main 2000!" he barked, and in five seconds he had the connection. "Put
+Skinner on the line!"
+
+Cappy's own private exchange operator had the temerity to inform him
+that Mr. Skinner was out at luncheon.
+
+"The in-fer-nal scoundrel--just when I need him! Put Captain Matt
+Peasley on the line, and be quick about it. Matt! Matt, listen! This is
+the old man speaking. Get an earful of what I'm going to tell you now,
+and don't ask any questions--just obey! Do you remember that big German
+freighter--the Valkyrie--sunk in Papeete Harbor?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"She's a prize, Matt. I've just been given a low-down on her condition.
+Gus Redell is leaving on the _Moana_ to bid her in at the government
+sale--the young scoundrel told me all about it and twitted me because
+we were asleep on the job and let the good thing get away from us.
+The _Moana's_ supposed to sail at one o'clock, but the Eastern mail is
+late--she won't get away from the dock until about one-thirty; but when
+she does--"
+
+"When she does we'll have a man aboard her to beat Redell to the German
+steamer," Matt Peasley interrupted. "I've got the message. Where are
+you, father-in-law?"
+
+"At the Merchants' Exchange."
+
+"You attend to the funds and I'll do the rest."
+
+"Confound you!" rasped Cappy Ricks. "You're so headstrong, you'll jam
+things up yet if you don't listen to me."
+
+"But you'll have to send somebody Redell doesn't know."
+
+"That doesn't matter at all. Now, son, will you listen to me? I'll
+attend to the money and I'll also frame this entire deal. Is Miss Keenan
+in the office--you know--Skinner's stenographer?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"She's been wanting to go on a vacation. When I heard about it I asked
+her how she'd like a cruise to Alaska--remember we have the _Tillicum_
+leaving at six to-night for St. Michael's. She said that would be fine;
+so I gave her a pass and the owner's suite on the _Tillicum_."
+
+"So I hear. Her trunk was sent to the _Tillicum's_ dock this morning and
+she has her suit case in the office. She planned to work today and go
+aboard the _Tillicum_ after office hours."
+
+"Good! Then she's all ready lor a voyage to Tahiti. Have the private
+exchange operator phone our wharf office instantly and tell them to load
+Miss Keenan's trunk on the first wagon handy and rush it over to the
+_Moana_. Give Miss Keenan fifteen hundred dollars and tell her she's
+to go to Papeete. If she kicks about clothes tell her to get along with
+what she has and buy what she needs on arrival."
+
+He waited while Matt Peasley gave the necessary instructions to the
+exchange operator. Then:
+
+"It's all right, sir. Miss Keenan will go. She'll be on her way in five
+minutes. I've told her to go aboard and buy her ticket from the purser
+or from the ticket agent at the gang plank."
+
+"Fine business! Now who else have we in our employ that I can send? I
+want a man--and a rattling smart one."
+
+"Mike Murphy, the skipper of the _Narcissus_," Matt suggested.
+
+"The very man! He's discharging at Union Street Wharf. Phone the
+wharfinger's office and tell him he'll not regret taking a message down
+to the dock to Captain Murphy. Murphy will probably be at lunch aboard.
+Tell the wharfinger to tell him to throw a few clothes into a suit
+case--that he's to go to Papeete on mighty important business--and to
+meet me at the head of Greenwich Street Dock at one-twenty, without
+fail, for his orders and his money. Having phoned these orders, Matt,
+take the office automobile and scorch to the water front to see that
+they're carried out. Take Miss Keenan with you. Good-bye."
+
+And Cappy Ricks dashed out of the Merchants' Exchange as though the
+devil was at his heels walloping him at every jump. It was four blocks
+to the Marine National Bank, but the California Street cable car took
+him there in four minutes. Gasping and perspiring Cappy trotted into the
+cashier's office, where for ten precious seconds he stood, open-mouthed,
+unable to say a word.
+
+"Well, Mr. Ricks," the cashier greeted him, "if you can't talk make
+signs."
+
+Cappy flapped his hands and made three rapid strokes with his index
+finger, like a motion-picture actor writing a twelve-line letter; then
+the words came in a veritable cascade.
+
+"Letters of credit," he croaked-"two." The cashier picked up a pencil
+and a scratch pad. "One, twenty-five thousand, favor Michael J. Murphy;
+one, favor--oh, what in blue blazes is that girl's first name? Oh, dear!
+Oh, dear! I never heard her first name--she's just Miss Keenan. Oh,
+the devil! Call her Matilda--that's it--Matilda Keenan--fifty thousand
+dollars for her; and--"
+
+"You appear to be in a terrific hurry for them, Mr. Ricks, so I'll
+get them started immediately," the cashier interrupted, and turned his
+memorandum over to an underling, with instructions to give Mr. Ricks'
+letters of credit precedence over all other business.
+
+"Now write--check--your favor--seventy thousand. I'll sign it--hope
+Skinner has enough cash on deposit; if he hasn't--my personal note, you
+know."
+
+"A mere trifle, Mr. Ricks. We will not worry over that." The cashier
+filled in the check and Cappy signed it with a trembling hand. "And
+now," the cashier continued, "we will have to have Miss Keenan and Mr.
+Murphy come to the bank to register their respective signatures--"
+
+"Nothing doing!" Cappy piped. "Give me the cards and I'll have 'em write
+their signatures on them aboard the steamer and send them ashore by
+the pilot. None o' your efficiency monkey business, my son! I guarantee
+everything."
+
+He dashed to the telephone and yelled into the receiver: "Taxicab!
+Taxicab!"
+
+"One of the cars belonging to the bank is at the curb, Mr. Ricks.
+The chauffeur will take you wherever you desire to go," the cashier
+suggested.
+
+"Bully for you!" Again Cappy commenced to flap his hands.
+"Stenographer--where's the stenographer? Oh, Judas Priest, nobody helps
+me! Bless your sweet heart, my dear, here you are, aren't you? Yes,
+and I'll not forget you for it either. No, no, no! No notes. Just stick
+piece of paper in the typewriter--now then! Ready! Dictation direct to
+machine. Er--ah! Harumph-h-h! Oh, suffering sailor! What's the name
+of the French bank in Papeete? I don't know. I'm a director and vice
+president of this infernal bank--and I don't know I'm alive! Man, man,
+I want it--a thing--a what-you-may-call-'em--a--Oh, the devil! Why do I
+deposit in this dratted bank? Eureka! I have it! I want a notice."
+
+"You mean an advice, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"Bully boy! An advice. That's it. Holy mackerel, how I love a man that's
+fast on his feet! A notice to the bank in Papeete, Island of Tahiti,
+that you've given Captain Michael J. Murphy a letter of credit for
+twenty-five thousand dollars--only one notice for one letter of
+credit. I'm up to skullduggery. Man, man, why don't you dictate? Usual
+courtesies--good customer of your bank--you know; usual flubdub. No
+advice regarding Miss Keenan's letter of credit--just Murphy's."
+
+The cashier good-naturedly shouldered Cappy Ricks aside and dictated to
+the bank's correspondent in Papeete a brief note to the effect that
+the Marine National had that day issued to Captain Michael J. Murphy
+a letter of credit in the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars; that it
+understood Captain Murphy was proceeding to Papeete on some matter of
+business and took this occasion to commend him to their kindly offices.
+
+"Stick that in an envelope--address envelope, seal it, and write
+outside: 'Kindness purser S.S. _Moana._' The mail to Papeete is closed,
+but I'll see that the _Moana's_ purser delivers it to the bank," Cappy
+ordered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+Ten minutes later Cappy dashed up to the entrance of Greenwich Street
+Pier and found Matt Peasley waiting for him, with Captain Murphy. Miss
+Keenan had already gone aboard the _Moana_, the huge funnel of which,
+as Cappy noted with a thrill, was still sticking up over the roof of
+the dock. He crooked his finger and Michael J. Murphy leaped up on the
+running board of his car.
+
+"Mike," said Cappy solemnly, "listen to me! Here's a letter of credit in
+your name for twenty-five thousand dollars, and an advice to the bank
+in Papeete from our bank here stating that the letter of credit has been
+issued. Give this letter to the purser, together with a good-sized bill,
+and ask him to deliver it to the Papeete bank when the _Moana_ arrives
+there. Here, also, is a letter of credit for Miss Keenan in the sum of
+fifty thousand--and the bank in Papeete has no notice of it! Remember
+that! It's important. Keep it to yourself. Miss Keenan has the expense
+money for both of you; tell her to split the roll with you. Tell her,
+also, that her name from now until she gets back is Matilda Keenan, and
+to sign her drafts that way.
+
+"Here are the signature cards. You sign yours and have her sign hers;
+then you give both to Captain Porter, the pilot, when he leaves the
+ship, and ask him to deliver them to me. I, in turn, will deliver them
+to the bank. Tell Miss Keenan she is absolutely under your orders; that
+she's to forget she ever heard of the lumber and shipping business. Both
+of you are to keep away from a man by the name of J. Augustus Redell.
+He's aboard and he's our enemy, captain. He's going to bid forty
+thousand dollars on the German steamer _Valkyrie_; so you bid forty
+thousand and five dollars--and take her away from him. At the very last
+minute have Miss Keenan put in a bid for thirty thousand--in case--you
+know, Mike--we might catch it going and coming. It might pay to have you
+fall down on your bid--you know, Mike! She's the dark horse--the reserve
+capital. Papeete--one-horse town, Mike. Everybody knows the other
+fellow's business--principal competitor for the steamer is an Australian
+steamship company. Considering condition world politics today, and no
+French bidders, naturally Frenchmen will pull for the Britisher.
+Expect bank will leak and tell 'em you only arrived with twenty-five
+thousand--you know, Mike! Can't be too careful. Trust nobody--and
+remember this man Redell is the smartest young man in the world and
+the trickiest scoundrel under heaven. Don't hold him cheap. He's a holy
+terror! He'd pinch the gold out of your wisdom teeth while you'd be
+laughing at him."
+
+"How high am I to go--if it becomes necessary to bid more than--"
+
+"Shoot the piece!" Cappy ordered. It is to be regretted that the
+Bilgewater Club, cut off from the house rules in a private dining room,
+had a habit of shooting craps occasionally after luncheon, and Cappy
+Ricks had picked up the patois of the game. "Seventy-five thousand is
+the limit; but satisfy yourself she's worth the limit before you go to
+it."
+
+"And Redell is going to bid forty thousand, sir?"
+
+"That's his limit. He told me so in confidence when he felt certain I
+couldn't possibly be a competitor--told it to me, and kidded me for a
+dead one at twenty minutes of one, when he knew I couldn't possibly have
+time to act. But he forgot the mail--it was delayed--"
+
+"I get you, sir. There's more to this job than merely acquiring the
+ship," retorted the astute Murphy.
+
+"There's a million dollars' worth of satisfaction in it for me if I can
+beat Gus Redell to that steamer. He says I've lost my punch."
+
+But Captain Murphy was off down the dock, suit case in hand, while Cappy
+dismissed his borrowed car and climbed into the office car with Matt
+Peasley. Five minutes they waited at the head of the dock--and then
+four huge motor trucks, laden with mail, lumbered through the dock gate.
+Cappy beamed into Captain Matt Peasley's face.
+
+"I guess this is a rotten day's work for the president emeritus, eh?"
+he chuckled. "President emeritus! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I
+waited for you and Skinner to get wise to all the good things that are
+lying round loose, the Blue Star Navigation Company would be in the
+hands of a receiver within the year. Matt, if you expect to manage
+the Blue Star you'll have to wake up. You're slow, boy--s-l-o-w-w! For
+heaven's sake, don't force me back into the harness! You know I've been
+wanting to retire for years."
+
+"Well, our messengers are aboard, so let's get out of here. I'm hungry;
+I haven't had any lunch," Matt replied.
+
+"Come to think of it," Cappy answered cheerfully, "I believe I could
+eat a little something myself. However, I still have one small duty to
+perform, Matthew. I've got to send a wireless."
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"That scoundrel Redell, of course. Think I'm going to swat him and leave
+him in ignorance of the fact?"
+
+Immediately upon arrival at the Commercial Club, Cappy sent the
+following message:
+
+"J. Augustus Redell,
+
+"Aboard S. S. _Moana_.
+
+"Augustus, my dear young friend, I have known men who grew rich by
+keeping their mouths closed!
+
+"CAPPY."
+
+"There!" said Cappy, as he dispatched this simple declarative sentence.
+"I'll wager one small five-cent bag of smoking tobacco our friend Gus
+Redell will not sleep to-night. He'll just lie awake wondering what in
+Sam Hill I meant by that."
+
+When he got back to his office he found an aerogram, which read as
+follows:
+
+"Alden P. Ricks
+
+"258 California Street
+
+"San Francisco
+
+"Everything lovely. After getting aboard decided to bluff; went to
+Redell, told him I was your representative. He went green clear back of
+the ears; said he had observed delay in sailing. Told him he'd better
+quit and go ashore with pilot; that I had bank roll choke hippopotamus.
+Your wireless handed him that moment! Would hesitate repeat his
+language. Have agreed pay him for his first-class ticket. All
+first-class cabins sold out; had to have it for Matilda. Steerage an
+awful place for a skipper, but will have to make the best of it.
+
+"MUHPHY."
+
+Mr. Skinner, alarmed at the shrill screams emanating from Cappy Ricks'
+office, rushed in and found the president emeritus rolling round in his
+swivel chair, beating the air and stamping on the floor.
+
+"Good gracious, Mr. Ricks!" Skinner cried. "What's the matter? Are you
+hurt?"
+
+"Hurt!" Cappy shrilled. "Hurt? Well, I should say so! Skinner, my boy,
+if you ever lose your punch you'll know just how much I'm suffering. As
+Live Wire Luiz would say: 'I die weeth dee-light!'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+Three months later Cappy Ricks sat alone in his office, his feet on
+his desk, his old head bowed on his breast. Apparently he was having
+a gentle snooze. Suddenly he sat up with the suddenness of a
+jack-in-the-box and stepped to the door leading to Mr. Skinner's office.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he said, "do you remember that stinking Humboldt
+spruce I sawed off on Live Wire Luiz one day when you were out to
+lunch?"
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded.
+
+"They claimed a rebate of six dollars a thousand on it," he declared;
+"and we declined to allow the claim. Well, I've decided to allow it,
+Skinner. Tell Hankins to draw a check for the rebate in full and bring
+it in to me. Send in a stenographer."
+
+Cappy clawed his whiskers as the stenographer took her seat at his desk.
+
+"Ahem! Hum! Harumph-h-h!" he began. "Take letter."
+
+"Mr. J. Augustus Redell
+
+"President West Coast Trading Co.
+
+"Merchants' Exchange Building, City.
+
+"My dear Gus: Having waited for several weeks in the hope of meeting
+you at the Bilgewater Club, to which, due to some mysterious reason,
+you appear to have been excessively disloyal of late, I despair of the
+delight of a personal interview and am accordingly writing you.
+
+"You will recall that jag of odoriferous spruce your excitable partner
+was chump enough to buy from the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company. On
+the receipt this morning of a communication from my exceedingly capable
+representative in Papeete I came to the conclusion that I could afford
+to allow the rebate claimed by the excessively sour-balled Senor
+Almeida, and accordingly I am inclosing herewith, to the order of your
+company, the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company's check for $536.12.
+
+"I also beg to tender you my assurance that if I have seemed in the
+past to cherish an unchristian resentment of that little deal in grape
+stakes, the memory of the outrage no longer rankles in my bosom. For
+you, my dear young friend, I entertain the kindliest, the most paternal
+of feelings. I have not only forgiven, but I have also forgotten; for my
+honor is clear again and I figure I can pretty blamed well afford myself
+the luxury.
+
+"Regarding that steamer _Valkyrie_, please be advised that the next
+steamer to Australia, via Papeete and Raratonga, will carry a Blue Star
+flag and my instructions to our representative to have it tacked to the
+main truck of the _Valkyrie_ as she dies submerged in the harbor.
+Since I assume you will be interested in learning the details of our
+acquisition of the steamer in question, and since, further, I cannot
+see that I have anything to lose by withholding this interesting
+information, please be advised that we bought her in for twenty-two
+thousand five hundred dollars.
+
+"I fear you will be inclined to doubt this and accuse me of romancing
+for the purpose of dropping more salt in a wound still fresh and
+bleeding; but I assure you such a suspicion would be a grave injustice
+to an old man whose portion from you should be pity, not opprobrium.
+
+"To begin, it was very easy--after we had you out of the way. Like a
+sensible man, you knew you were licked and threw up the sponge to save
+yourself unnecessary punishment. It has been my experience that only a
+very wise man has sense enough to do that; consequently, despite your
+youth and impetuosity, I seem to see the glimmer of a very brilliant
+commercial future for the West Coast Trading Company.
+
+"However, to the story: When Mike Murphy got down to Papeete he found
+a couple of broken-down junk dealers hanging round--the kind of fellows
+who would have been glad to bid in the vessel at a couple of thousand
+dollars for the privilege of breaking her up for junk and gutting her
+of her cargo. A little reflection convinced Captain Murphy that he could
+eliminate these small fry and centre his attention on the Australian
+steamship company; and he was aided in arriving at this conclusion by
+your Mr. Jinks, whom he found glooming at the dock on the arrival of
+the _Moana_ minus your handsome self. By the way, Mr. Jinks' action in
+aiding and abetting Murphy, after discovering that his own company was
+out of the running, was so sportsmanlike that, if you will kindly advise
+me of the expense to which you were put in sending him to Papeete, we
+will gladly send you our check to cover.
+
+"It took the capable Murphy about an hour and a half to get the lay of
+the land--and then he started to play his little game. In the rather
+restricted society of Papeete Murphy played the fool. Every little while
+he would apparently acquire a small jag and get very confidential. He
+told everybody his business--in confidence--and everybody in Papeete
+knew just how much he was going to bid on the wreck. Finally, the day
+before the bids were to be opened--Murphy was waiting till the last
+minute before filing his--the captain of the port got a wireless from
+some adventurer down in Noumea, asking him to withhold the opening of
+the bids till he could get up to Papeete and make a bid. Murphy had
+already fooled away three weeks in Papeete and if the captain of the
+port hearkened to the request from the man from Noumea it would mean a
+wait of another three weeks. Consequently he awaited the next move with
+interest.
+
+"Well, Augustus, the captain of the port had the temerity to delay the
+opening of the bids, and Murphy noticed that his competitor hired
+an attorney and made a bitter and formal protest against the delay.
+However, it looked to Murphy like they had made just a little bit too
+much noise--so he hired an attorney and made a lot of noise himself.
+The captain of the port overruled both protests, however; and about that
+time Murphy decided to put over a dirty Irish trick. He announced
+he could see very clearly there was a move on to double-cross the
+legitimate bidders and that he wasn't going to hang round any longer.
+The _Timaru_ was due the next day, so he and Jinks engaged passage to
+San Francisco on her; and, just before he left, Murphy went up to the
+bank and drew eighteen thousand dollars on his letter of credit.
+
+"He got a certificate of deposit in his own name, and that same
+afternoon his attorney filed a sealed bid with the captain of the port.
+
+"Now I had suspected there might be a leak from that French bank in
+favor of the Australian; so I had taken care to have it advised by the
+Marine National here that the latter bank had issued a letter of credit
+for twenty-five thousand dollars to Captain Murphy. Therefore, the
+Papeete bank very naturally concluded that twenty-five thousand dollars
+was all the money Murphy had with him! And when he drew eighteen
+thousand dollars on it they thought they knew the exact amount of his
+bid; they thought, also, he had made a bid, in view of the fact that his
+attorney filed one the same afternoon. At any rate, the news reached the
+Australian and he withdrew his bid and substituted another. Since he
+was the possessor of straight inside information as to the amount of his
+single competitor's bid, he saw no reason why he should waste money;
+so he bid four thousand pounds, or approximately nineteen thousand five
+hundred dollars. They say he felt pretty sore when the bids were opened
+and the _Valkyrie_ went to Miss Matilda Keenan for twenty-two thousand
+five hundred dollars.
+
+"Miss Keenan, by the way, is Skinner's stenographer. Murphy was only the
+decoy. She carried the real bank roll and nobody suspected her; in fact,
+Murphy was so certain of his prey he didn't even bid! He tells me the
+_Valkyrie_ is really a gift, and that, at the widest possible estimate
+of salvage cost, the Blue Star Navigation Company has purchased, for
+two hundred thousand dollars, a four-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar
+ship--thanks to you!
+
+"With kindest regards, and again assuring you of the pleasure I have
+always taken in our friendship--a friendship which, I trust, nothing
+will ever disrupt--I am
+
+"Cordially and sincerely--"
+
+Cappy paused and gazed at the stenographer appraisingly.
+
+"Read that over again, my dear young lady," he commanded.
+
+The girl complied and Cappy nodded his satisfaction.
+
+"You and Mr. Skinner get along all right?" he queried.
+
+"Oh, yes, sir."
+
+"I'm very glad to hear that. You've been substituting for Miss Keenan,
+haven't you?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, you can have the job for keeps if you want it. You suit me. Take
+letter: 'Miss M. Keenan--' I called her Matilda, but her name's Mary; so
+let it go at that.
+
+"My dear Miss Keenan: Captain Murphy arrived on the _Timaru_, with the
+information that he had taken a chance and left our affairs in the laps
+of the gods and the capable hands of his understudy. It has been pretty
+tough sledding waiting for the next Australian steamer, but, thank God!
+she made port yesterday and your report of the success of your mission
+is before me. I thank you. Yen're a good girl, and I am very happy to
+learn of your engagement to Captain Murphy. He is a splendid fellow and
+I am sending him back to Papeete in command of our _Amelia Ricks_, which
+has been fitted up as a wrecker, to raise the _Valkyrie_. You had better
+wait in Papeete and marry him there, as I am opposed to long engagements
+among my employees; and Michael will do better and faster work if he
+settles all his personal worries before tackling those of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company.
+
+"On his return with the _Valkyrie_ I shall make him port captain of the
+Blue Star Fleet, which job will keep him home nights. And since, by
+his ingenuity, he succeeded in purchasing for twenty-two thousand five
+hundred dollars a piece of property for which I was prepared to pay as
+high as seventy-five thousand dollars, for your wedding present I
+shall allot you and Captain Murphy a ten-thousand-dollar piece of the
+_Valkyrie_. It should earn you thirty per cent and make you independent
+in your old age.
+
+"Very sincerely--"
+
+Cappy Ricks ceased dictating and clawed his whiskers reflectively.
+
+"Yes," he murmured irrelevantly; "I guess that's considerable of a
+knock-out from an old fogy who's lost his punch!"
+
+Then, to the stenographer:
+
+"That will be all, my dear. As you pass through the general office
+tell those fellows out there that I've gone into executive session with
+myself and am not to be disturbed unless it's something very important.
+I've got to decide which one of our skippers to promote into the
+_Valkyrie_ when we get her up and I must think up a new name for her.
+I think I'll call her the J. H. Skinner. Skinner's a little slow on his
+feet, but he means well and he's old enough to have a ship named after
+him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+The practical theft from the West Coast Trading Company of the German
+steamer _Valkyrie_, had, to Cappy's mind, atoned for the loss and
+humiliation he had suffered in that grape stake deal. His honor
+was clean again and for weeks he taunted Redell with the latter's
+inefficiency, insufficiency and general business debility, until, having
+extracted the last shred of triumph from the affair, a vague sympathy
+for Redell commenced to surge up in Cappy's kindly heart and he
+commenced casting about for an opportunity to do the former a favor.
+
+Redell had enjoyed his beating, for he was, indeed, a rare sport.
+However, he would have to retaliate. The feud must go on. Unless he
+could mix a modicum of fun with his profits, J. Augustus would not have
+regarded the fight worth while, so accordingly he kept his eyes and his
+ears open for a handy weapon with which to jab Cappy through that same
+old rift in his armor--his passion for a large profit through an adroit
+and ingenious deal in a commodity where even a very modest profit was
+not discernible to ordinary mortals.
+
+Finally Redell found the opportunity he sought. He was so proud of his
+formula that he could not forbear remarking casually to Live Wire Luiz
+one bright day that, granted good health and the approval of Providence
+for one week, he would knock Cappy Ricks for a goal. And he narrated his
+scheme.
+
+"Friend of my heart!" the little Peruvian cried excitedly, and held out
+his arms to Redell, inviting a fraternal embrace. "I love you! Damn eet!
+I say eet! You are one wezard weeth the money-making schemes!"
+
+Mr. Redell cautiously compromised on a hearty handshake; to avoid a kiss
+he was careful to keep the table between himself and Live Wire Luiz.
+
+"Shall we empty the corporate sock and climb aboard for every cent we
+can beg, borrow or steal?" he demanded.
+
+"Sure, I bet you!" Live Wire Luiz cried; for, though a featherweight
+physically, he was possessed of the courage of an Alexander.
+
+J. Augustus Redell put on his hat, took from a pigeonhole in his desk
+the last trial balance of the West Coast Trading Company's books
+and departed for a conference with his banker. Half an hour later he
+returned, and the expectant Luiz promptly noted a cloud on Mr. Redell's
+sunny countenance.
+
+"I can't arrange for a loan," he reported disgustedly. "The limit, in
+view of our present obligations, has been reached."
+
+"On the margin of ten cents," suggested Live Wire Luiz, "take a chance,
+_amigo_. Thees is not speculation. It ees what you call the ceench weeth
+the copper reevets."
+
+"I figure it that way; nevertheless, copper-riveted cinches sometimes
+aren't properly cinched and Fortune backs out of the packsaddle. I dare
+not take a long chance on this, Luiz. If something went wrong we'd be
+sadly embarrassed. We dare not take a chance up to the limit of what
+money we have on hand, because we need those funds for other things."
+
+Live Wire Luiz swore mournfully in Spanish. Redell nodded and retired
+to his own office, where for an hour he sat with his head in his hands,
+searching his agile brain for a bright idea that would lead him out
+of his dilemma. Suddenly he leaped to his feet, tossed his hat to the
+ceiling and caught it again as it came down.
+
+"Cappy Ricks is my meat," he declared aloud. "Besides, I owe Cappy one
+for making a monkey out of me on that last deal. He hoisted me on my own
+petard. Now I'll hoist him, and incidentally annex a profit for the West
+Coast Trading Company."
+
+He rushed out into California Street and for the major portion of the
+day was very busy among various shipping offices. When he returned, late
+in the afternoon, to the offices of the West Coast Trading Company,
+his alert young face wore a pleased and confident smile. Live Wire Luiz
+noted this and took heart of hope.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+Cappy Ricks was, for the thousandth time since his voluntary retirement
+from active business some ten years previous, overwhelmed with his
+ancient responsibilities. Mr. Skinner had, under the insistent prodding
+of his wife, consented grudgingly to a vacation and had gone up into the
+Sierras to loaf and fish.
+
+Scarcely had Skinner departed when one of the Blue Star steamers ran
+ashore on the Southern California coast, and Captain Matt Peasley left
+immediately for the scene of the disaster to superintend the work
+of floating the stranded vessel. This left Cappy riding herd on
+the destinies of the Blue Star ships, with Mr. Hankins, Skinner's
+understudy, looking after the lumber.
+
+Prior to boarding the train, Matt Peasley had ventured the suggestion
+that Mr. Skinner be ordered by wire to return to town at once; but this
+veiled hint that the Blue Star ships could not be managed by the man
+who had built up the Blue Star Navigation Company had been received very
+coldly by the president emeritus of the Ricks interests.
+
+"Young feller," Cappy informed his son-in-law testily, "I'll have you
+know I was managing the Blue Star Navigation Company quite some years
+before you quit wearing pinafores; so I guess, while you and Skinner are
+away from the office, we can manage to stagger along after a fashion."
+
+"But I don't like to have you worried with business after you've
+retired--"
+
+"Retired!" Cappy hooted. "Swell chance I've got to retire! I'll die in
+the harness whether I want to or not. Tut, tut, my boy! Don't be afraid
+to put me in as a pinch hitter for this organization. The worst I can do
+is to single--and I might clout a home run."
+
+"But Skinner has been away two weeks--"
+
+"Enough! It would be a bad thing to obsess Skinner with the notion that
+we can't get along without him. Then he never would take a rest; and
+I don't want any martyrs or neurasthenics round my office. You got
+anything on the fire that's liable to burn or boil over, before you get
+back?"
+
+"Nothing to worry about, Cappy," Matt answered. "Our five-masted
+schooner _Mindoro_ is the only vessel requiring immediate attention. She
+arrived at Sydney yesterday with lumber from Gray's Harbor, and as yet I
+haven't been able to get a satisfactory return cargo for her."
+
+"What have you been holding out for?"
+
+"I want to get a cargo for delivery in San Francisco if possible. The
+vessel will be ready to go on dry dock by the time she gets back here;
+and besides, I'm planning to put a semi-Diesel-type engine in her."
+
+'"Not by a jugful! She wasn't built with a shaft log, and I won't have
+you weakening my _Mindoro_ by cutting away her deadwood--"
+
+"Tish! Tush! You're a back number, Cappy. They don't cut through the
+deadwood any more. They run the shaft out over her quarter and hang it
+on struts."
+
+"She'll carry a helm--"
+
+"She'll not; but if she does, let her. It'll give the helmsman something
+to do."
+
+Cappy subsided, fearful that if he persisted he might be given new
+evidence of the fact that times had changed a trifle, here and there,
+since he had--ostensibly--gone on the retired list.
+
+"Well, I'll take care of the _Mindoro_," he assured his son-in-law.
+"Early in life I adopted the woodpecker as my patron saint. Ever since,
+whenever I want anything I keep pecking away, and pretty soon I bust
+through somewhere."
+
+The following morning, bursting with a sense of responsibility, Cappy
+came bustling down to the office and got on the job at eight-thirty.
+After looking through the mail he called up all the freight brokers in
+town and urged them to make a special effort to line up a San Francisco
+cargo for the _Mindoro_; then he summoned Mr. Skinner's stenographer and
+was busy dictating when Mr. J. Augustus Redell was announced by a youth
+from the general office. Cappy went to the door to welcome his beloved
+young friend and business enemy.
+
+"Come in, Gus, my dear boy," he chirped, "and rest your face and hands."
+He turned to the stenographer. "That will be all, my dear, for
+the present. I can't dictate business secrets in the presence of
+this--ahem--harumph-h-h!--er--"
+
+His desk telephone rang. Cappy took down the receiver and grunted.
+
+"J. O. Heyfuss & Co. are calling you, Mr. Ricks," his private exchange
+operator announced.
+
+Cappy smiled and nodded. J. O. Heyfuss & Co. were ship, freight and
+marine insurance brokers.
+
+"Something doing for my _Mindoro_," he soliloquized aloud.
+
+"Mr. Ricks?" a voice came over the wire.
+
+"Hello there!" Cappy replied at the top of his voice. For some reason
+he always shouted when telephoning. "Ricks on the job! Whatja got for
+my _Mindoro_, Heyfuss?... Zinc ore? Never carried any before. Don't know
+what it looks like.... Yes; that freight rate is acceptable. We should
+have more, but God forbid that we should be considered human hogs...
+Yes.... Sure it's for discharge in San Francisco? ... All right. Close
+for it.... Good-bye!... Hey there, Heyfuss! Don't close in a hurry. See
+if you can't get the charterers to pay the towage over to her loading
+port. If they won't pay all, strike 'em for half."
+
+He hung up without saying good-bye.
+
+"Well, that's out of the way," he declared with satisfaction. "Just
+closed for a cargo of zinc ore from Australia to San Francisco ex our
+schooner _Mindoro_. Matt Peasley's been hunting wild-eyed for a cargo
+for her--scouring the market, Gus--and nothing doing! And here the
+old master comes along and digs up a cargo while you'd be saying Jack
+Robinson. By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if you can show me how the
+rising generation is going to get by--"
+
+He paused suddenly, leaned forward, and pointed an accusing finger at
+his visitor.
+
+"Gus," he charged, "you're up to something. I can see it in your eyes.
+You look guilty."
+
+Mr. Redell hitched his chair close to Cappy and with his index finger
+tapped the old gentleman three times on the right knee-three impressive
+taps.
+
+"Alden P. Ricks," he began with equal impressiveness, "I have a
+scheme--"
+
+Cappy chuckled and slapped his thin old thigh.
+
+"I knew it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! Gus, if you ever come into my
+office and fail to unload a scheme on me I'll think you aren't enjoying
+your usual robust health. What are you going to start now? A skunk farm
+for cornering the market on Russian sable?"
+
+"Cut out the hilarity. This is serious business, Cappy. I can show
+you where you and I can waltz into the Chicago Pit, make a killing on
+December wheat, and escape with a sizable wad before our identity is
+discovered."
+
+Cappy, caught off his guard, blinked at the enormity of the prospect;
+but, remembering his dignity as a business man, he shook his head sadly
+and replied:
+
+"Wheat! Wheat, eh? A lumber and shipping man monkeying with wheat? Not
+for little old Alden P. Ricks! No, sir! When I go speculating I stick
+to my specialties--lumber and ships. Did you ever hear of a gambler,
+winning a fortune at faro, who didn't drop his winnings on the ponies?"
+
+"But this is a beautiful layout."
+
+"I don't know anything about wheat and I'm too old to learn. Besides, I
+don't trust you, Gus. You're an infernal scoundrel; and experience has
+taught me that any time I take your tip and go in on a deal I have to
+step lively to keep from being walked on."
+
+"But this time I'm free from guile. I won't stab you, Cappy."
+
+"No use! The last boat just left, Augustus."
+
+[Illustration with caption: He always shouted when telephoning.]
+
+Mr. Redell, however, was made of rather stern stuff. He was a young man
+who never took "No" for an answer. Persistence was his most striking
+characteristic.
+
+"Now listen," he implored. "Let the dead past bury itself. I give you
+my word of honor, Cappy, that this deal is on the level. Just let me put
+all my cards on the table while you take a look; then, if you don't want
+to come in, all I ask is your word of honor that you'll stay out while I
+round up a partner with red blood in his veins."
+
+Cappy pricked up his ears at that. He saw that Redell was serious; he
+knew that once the latter passed his word of honor he never broke it.
+Still, Cappy did not wish to appear precipitate in his surrender; so he
+said weakly:
+
+"I am against speculation."
+
+"You mean you're against foolish speculation," Redell corrected him. "I
+take it, however, that you have no objection to playing a sure thing."
+
+"Well," Gappy admitted, "in that event I might be persuaded.
+Nevertheless, I'm afraid of you. There's a fly in the ointment, even if
+I cannot see it. You owe me a poke, and you'll never rest until you've
+squared the account between us."
+
+Mr. Redell held up his hands in abject distress.
+
+"Cappy," he pleaded, "don't say that. You wrong me cruelly. It is in
+my power to stand idly by and let you assimilate a poke right now; but,
+just to show you I haven't any hard feelings, I'll do something nice for
+you instead."
+
+"What do you mean--nice?"
+
+"I'll save you money--not only today but for years to come; and I'll
+save your self-respect."
+
+"Shoot!"
+
+"Call up J. O. Heyfuss & Co. and tell them to take their cargo of zinc
+ore in bulk for your schooner _Mindoro_ and go to the devil with it!"
+
+"But, good gracious, boy, I have to get something for her homeward
+trip!"
+
+"In this case nothing is better than something. Do you know anything
+about zinc ore?"
+
+"Yes; as much as an Eskimo knows about the doctrine of
+transubstantiation."
+
+"I thought so. Well, I'll enlighten you. Zinc ore is blamed near as
+heavy as lead, and it's as fine as cement. Load it in a ship in bulk
+and, what with the pitching and rolling of a vessel on a long voyage,
+she opens up every seam and crack in her interior; then this powdered
+ore sifts into the skin of the ship and down into her bilge, and you'll
+never be able to get it out without tearing the ship apart. Why, after
+a vessel has freighted a cargo of zinc ore there may be as much as fifty
+tons left in her after she's supposed to be discharged; and, of course,
+thereafter she'll carry that much less cargo than she did before.
+Besides, the consignees are liable to send you a bill for the shortage;
+you can gamble your head they'll deduct it from the freight bill."
+
+"Holy sailor!" Cappy was appalled.
+
+"Why," Redell continued, "I'm surprised at your ignorance, Cappy!"
+
+"And I'm amazed at your intelligence! Where did you get all this
+zinc-ore dope?" Cappy challenged. "How do you know it's true?"
+
+"I got it from Captain Matt Peasley. I heard him give it to J. O.
+Heyfuss on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange two weeks ago, when
+Heyfuss tried to sneak up on his blind side and hang that cargo of zinc
+ore on him. I guess they weren't importing much zinc ore when you were
+active in business, Cappy, or you'd have known all about it. You see
+the plot, don't you? As soon as Heyfuss learned that Matt Peasley and
+Skinner had gone away, leaving a defenseless old man on the job, he
+organized himself to spear you."
+
+"The shameless son of a sea cook! By gravy, Gus, you're my friend!"
+
+"Need any more proof?"
+
+"Not a speck."
+
+"Then I'll give you some. Call up Heyfuss and declare that ore cargo
+off; after you've done that I'll tell you where you can get something
+better. Moreover, you can close the deal yourself and save the
+brokerage."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+Cappy Ricks called up J. O. Heyfuss and in a few terse sentences told
+that individual where to head in.
+
+"Now, then--" he began, facing round on Redell once more.
+
+Again Redell's index finger tapped Cappy's knee. Dramatically he
+pronounced a single word:
+
+"Wheat!"
+
+"Wheat?"
+
+"Wheat!"
+
+"What kind of wheat?" In his amazement Cappy was rather helpless.
+
+"Number One white Australian wheat."
+
+"You jibbering jackdaw! Wheat? Don't you know blamed well that wheat is
+one of the commodities Australia never exports to these United States?
+Why? Because we don't need her doggoned wheat! We grow all the wheat we
+need and a lot more we don't need; we export that, and it's just as fine
+wheat as you'll find anywhere. Moreover, any time our crop is a failure,
+our next-door neighbor, Canada, is Johnny-on-the-spot, ready to make
+prompt delivery. So what in thunder are you talking about?"
+
+For answer J. Augustus Redell drew from his pocket that morning's paper
+and pointed to the headline of a front-page story. Cappy adjusted his
+spectacles and read: Bakers Announce Six-Cent Loaf!
+
+"Hum-m-m!" said Cappy.
+
+"You bet! And it's a smaller loaf, by the way. Doesn't that argue that
+there is something doing in wheat, when the price of bread goes to six
+cents for a half portion?"
+
+"Well, there might be something in that, Gus. Crack along and tell me
+some more."
+
+"Until the identity of the real culprits is fixed, Cappy, we must blame
+the war in Europe for the six-cent loaf; likewise for the fifteen-dollar
+shoe that formerly cost our wives six or seven; for the eleven pounds of
+sugar for a dollar, when twenty to twenty-two pounds was the standard in
+the good old days. Europe is too busy fighting to pay much attention to
+farming; the wheat farmers of Canada are somewhere in France instead of
+being at home 'tending to business; and it has been up to Uncle Sam
+and the Argentine Republic to feed the world, you might say. Naturally
+speculators have seized upon this condition to shoot the price of wheat
+to the skies, and in desperation the millers have been casting about to
+buy cheaper wheat. Investigation discloses the fact that Australia has
+an enormous quantity of wheat on hand; some of it is the surplus of the
+1915 crop. Of course she has exported all she could to England; but, at
+that, she has been handicapped."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Because when a ship sails from Liverpool with goods for Australia, it
+is a rare case when that same ship promptly loads with Australian
+goods and puts back to Liverpool. She takes a cargo of coal, say, from
+Newcastle up to Manila; a general cargo from Manila to Seattle or San
+Francisco; thence to a West Coast port with a general cargo; thence to
+New York with nitrate; thence to Europe with foodstuffs or munitions.
+Australia hasn't had the tonnage to export her wheat and it's been
+piling up on her. Now they've simply got to sell something to get some
+ready money."
+
+"This is perfectly re-markable!"
+
+Redell took a document from his pocket and gravely handed it to
+Cappy, who examined it and discovered the same to be a charter party,
+consummated the day before between the West Coast Trading Company,
+owners of the barkentine _Mazeppa_, and Messrs. Ford & Carter, a well
+known export and import firm whose principal business was done in grain.
+Cappy read the charter party carefully and even verified the signatures,
+with which he was familiar. The vessel was to carry a cargo of wheat
+from Melbourne to San Francisco at a freight rate that fairly shrieked
+the word "Dividend."
+
+"Re-markable!" Cappy declared. "Preposterous!"
+
+"Seeing is believing. Call up Ford & Carter, and they'll jump over
+themselves to give you a cargo of wheat for your _Mindoro_."
+
+"Im-possible!"
+
+"Well, I'm telling you. Why, it stands to reason, Cappy! Canada and the
+United States are so much nearer Europe than is Australia that it has
+been cheaper to use our wheat, and the result is we've been cleaned out;
+and the newspapers are filled with dismal stories of the sufferings of
+the poor due to the increased price of bread."
+
+"Come to think of it, Gus, there _has_ been a lot of that stuff in the
+papers lately. But, of course, when a fellow's stomach is full and he
+isn't in danger of being attached for debt, he never thinks of the less
+fortunate brother. Yes, Gus, I dare say the demand for our wheat now
+exceeds the visible supply."
+
+"Is it any wonder, then, that this condition of affairs should come to
+the attention of the Australian exporters? Just because Australian
+wheat has never been shipped into the United States is no reason why
+it shouldn't be shipped--particularly when the price of flour goes up
+daily. Why, we pay two and a half dollars for the fifty-pound sack
+of flour that formerly cost us a dollar and a quarter! Eggs are up to
+seventy cents a dozen--by jingo, Cappy, what's going to become of us?"
+
+"God knows!" Cappy answered dismally.
+
+Redell had him hypnotized. Already Cappy could see the gates of the
+poorhouse opening to receive them all. Redell's voice brought him back
+to a realization of his peril.
+
+"You'll find, Cappy Ricks, that for months to come every sailing vessel
+that carries lumber to Australia from the Pacific Coast will come back
+with a cargo of wheat while these war prices are maintained."
+
+"Great Jumping Jehoshaphat! How'd you get next to all this, Gus?"
+
+"The early bird gets the worm, and success comes to the man who creates
+his own opportunities. I thought it all up out of my own head, Cappy,
+and then tried it out on Ford & Carter. It knocked 'em cold for a
+minute; but that was only because the proposition was so unusual. When
+I explained the situation to them, however, and gave them time to digest
+it, both offered to take me out to luncheon. You can see for yourself
+they've chartered our Mazeppa at a fancy freight rate."
+
+Cappy licked his lips.
+
+"The _Mindoro_ is sound, tight and seaworthy," he murmured. "She could
+carry wheat."
+
+"Come on in, Cappy. The water's fine!"
+
+"I'll do it! Gus, you're a mighty good fellow, if I do say it that
+shouldn't. I have five windjammers en route to Australia this minute,
+and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I can get wheat charters for
+all of them on the return trip I'll accept, if it costs me money. Gus,
+something has got to be done about this high cost of living or we'll all
+go to hell together. There comes a time in a man's life when he must put
+aside the sordid question of 'How much is there in it for me?' and ask
+himself: 'How much can I put in it for the other fellow?' Gus, it's our
+Christian duty to furnish tonnage to import this wheat. We should, as
+patriotic citizens, make it our business to boom Australian wheat in
+the United States and give these doggoned pirates that gamble in the
+foodstuffs of the country a run for their money. Food prices should be
+regulated by this Government. The Chicago Pit should be abolished by
+legislative enactment--"
+
+"Well, they won't do it this year, Cappy," Redell interrupted dryly.
+"Still, it occurred to me that I saw an opening where two high-minded
+philanthropists--to wit, Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell--might
+strike a blow for freedom and at the same time give these wheat
+speculators a kick where it will do them the most good. When one cannot
+annihilate his enemy the next best thing is to take some money away
+from him; and you and I, Cappy Ricks, can take a young fortune away from
+these fellows, while at the same time depressing the price of wheat and
+doing our fellow countrymen a favor. Are you prepared to volunteer under
+my banner? If so, hold up your right hand."
+
+Cappy held up his right hand.
+
+"Out with it, Gus," he ordered; "out with it! This is most interesting."
+
+"Ah! You're interested now, are you? Well, bearing in mind the fact that
+your specialty is lumber and ships, I will give you an opportunity to
+withdraw before it is too late. Besides, it occurs to me that I have
+already done enough for you today."
+
+"Don't be greedy, Gus. Remember there is an exception to every rule.
+Besides, I'm getting old and--er--ahem!--hell's bells, boy, I've got
+to have my fling every once in a while. Come now, Gus! Out with it! I
+believe your proposition embodied the coupling of both our names in the
+betting, did it not?"
+
+"It did, Cappy. Still, come to think of it, I really ought not to come
+in here and tempt you into speculating--"
+
+"How much money do you want?" Cappy shrilled impatiently. "Cut out this
+infernal drivel and get down to business. Unfold your proposition; and
+if it looks to me like a winner I'll take a flyer with you if it's the
+last act of my sinful life."
+
+"On your own head be it, Cappy. Here goes! However, before laying my
+plan before you, perfect frankness compels me to state that my visit to
+you was not born of an overweening desire to do you a kindness or make
+money for you. Philanthropy is not my long suit--in business hours; and
+my interest in you today is purely a selfish one."
+
+"Go on; go on, boy! Am I a child in arms?"
+
+"I have made a ball, Cappy," Redell continued, "and I want you to
+fire it. I have a splendid prescription to make a clean-up in December
+wheat--"
+
+"Give me your prescription."
+
+"Well, sir, my prescription lacks one small ingredient to make it a
+standard household remedy. You can supply that ingredient--to wit, cash
+of the present standard of weight and fineness. Every spare dollar that
+Live Wire Luiz and I can get our hands on is working overtime in the
+legitimate business of the West Coast Trading Company; every loose asset
+with a hockable value has been hocked, and we dare not strain our credit
+with our banker by borrowing money with which to speculate. If I apply
+for a sizable loan, without putting up collateral, he'll ask me what I
+want to do with the money--and if I answer truthfully he'll throw
+Luiz and me and our account out of his bank. And I never was a very
+successful liar. Therefore, in consideration of the valuable information
+I can furnish, I suggest that you carry me for a quarter of a million
+bushels of December wheat."
+
+"How much will that cost me?" Cappy queried warily.
+
+"We'll operate on margin. I think a margin of ten cents a bushel will do
+the trick; of course, if wheat should go up a point you'll be asked to
+come through with more money. However, I have a sneaking notion that
+a well-known heavyweight like you can place his order with any of the
+local brokers without having to put up a single cent; at the most they
+might ask you for five thousand or ten thousand dollars. But they know
+you're good for any engagement you may make; they'd be tickled to death
+to have your promissory note. I suggest that you get in touch with a
+sound brokerage house in this city--one that is a member of the New York
+Exchange and the Chicago Board of Trade--and sell, for my account, two
+hundred and fifty thousand bushels of December wheat at the market."
+
+"What'll I do for myself?"
+
+"Go as far as you like. You know your own limitations. I'm desirous
+of selling a quarter of a million bushels at the market; and, as I am
+furnishing the plans and specifications for this raid, I suggest that
+you sell at least a quarter of a million yourself."
+
+"Funny business!" Cappy murmured. "Selling a quarter of a million
+bushels of wheat you do not own and never will! Hum-m-m! Ahem!
+Harumph-h-h! Then what?"
+
+He bent his head and gazed very severely at Mr. Redell over the rims
+of his spectacles. For reply Mr. Redell took from his pocket thirteen
+sheaves of paper and handed them to Cappy, who investigated and
+discovered them to be thirteen forty-eight-hour options on thirteen
+sailing vessels bound to Australian ports with lumber, and not as yet
+provided with a return cargo to the United States.
+
+"By to-morrow morning I shall have exercised those options and closed
+for thirteen cargoes of wheat," Redell explained. "You have five vessels
+bound to Australia also. Give me an option on them for their return
+cargo and that will make eighteen."
+
+"Yes, yes. Then what?"
+
+"I will charter all of the eighteen to Ford grain of it, in order to
+protect themselves against a falling market."
+
+"Naturally. And the market is--"
+
+"December wheat closed in the Chicago Pit yesterday at $1.89 1/2, and
+the market has been very stiff for quite a while. The bulls are right on
+the job."
+
+"Will not the advent of all this Australian wheat depress the market?"
+Cappy shrilled excitedly.
+
+"Not unless the bears happen to find it out, Cappy," Redell retorted
+gently. "It is our job to bring the matter to their attention, for it
+so happens that Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell are the only two
+people in the United States who happen to know about it. Ford bulls
+will get panicky; the bears will take heart of hope, and with Number One
+white Australian wheat they'll beat the brains out of the market and in
+all probability kick it down to $1.85, at which figure we promptly buy
+as much wheat as we have previously sold. Thus we cover our shorts,
+and the difference between $1.89 1/2 and $1.85, less brokerage and
+interest--if any--will be, roughly speaking, four cents. Four cents on a
+quarter of a million bushels is ten thousand dollars--not a great deal,
+truly, in these days of swollen fortunes, but, nevertheless, a nice
+piece of velvet--eh, Cappy, you sporty boy?"
+
+"It isn't so much the money we make," Cappy replied sagely. "It's the
+fun we have making it, my boy; the joy of putting over a winner. The
+instant a man begins to love money for money's sake he's a knave and
+a fool. Kill him! But--er--ahem--as you say, my dear young friend, ten
+thousand each is not to be--er--sneezed at."
+
+"Then you're coming in on the deal?"
+
+"I should tell a man!"
+
+After the fashion of the West they shook hands on it and went to
+luncheon at the Commercial Club.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+Directly luncheon was over and Cappy Ricks had returned to his office,
+J. Augustus Redell moved into action. He called on Messrs. Ford &
+Carter, talked the situation over with them, and showed them where they,
+having the necessary tonnage in hand with which to guarantee delivery,
+could bring a couple of million bushels of fine Number One white
+Australian wheat to the Pacific Coast, cut the price a cent, and
+doubtless unload every kernel of it at a fair profit. There was
+every probability that wheat would go to two dollars. For his part in
+producing this profit Mr. Redell desired a commission of five per cent
+on all sales of wheat imported in the bottoms he had under option and
+which he stood ready to turn over to Ford & Carter without profit,
+since the owners of the vessels would pay him the customary broker's
+commission on the freight money earned on the voyage. Ford & Carter
+said they would think the matter over; so Mr. Redell tactfully withdrew,
+stating that he would call up the following day for an answer.
+
+He knew Ford & Carter would promptly dispatch a long cablegram to their
+agent in Australia, instructing him to get a forty-eight-hour option on
+the wheat, with a guaranty of delivery to the vessels as they arrived
+from time to time. Meantime, Ford & Carter would quote every milling
+company in the West, subject to prior acceptance and their ability
+to deliver Number One Australian wheat at a price that would be of
+interest. If the milling companies accepted this rather nebulous
+quotation and telegraphed orders, and Ford & Carter's Australian agent
+could purchase at a satisfactory price the wheat to fill these orders,
+then Ford & Carter would make formal acceptance and purchase the wheat.
+If, on the other hand, their agent in Australia failed to get the wheat,
+then Ford & Carter had an "out" with the milling companies who desired
+to buy the wheat from them, and the entire matter would be off, with
+Ford & Carter merely out a couple of hundred dollars in telegraph bills.
+That was the bet they had to make to put their fortune to the touch; and
+right cheerfully did they make it.
+
+J. Augustus Redell gave them all the time he could. His forty-eight-hour
+options on the vessels then en route to Australia had cost him nothing;
+that was a courtesy which one shipowner always extends to another, free
+of charge, unless the vessel happens to be on demurrage at the time the
+option is given. When his options were within two hours of expiring he
+called on Ford & Carter.
+
+"We'll take 'em all," Carter almost shouted at him. "They'll be arriving
+with sufficient time elapsing between arrivals to guarantee us immunity
+from any undue delay or embarrassment in loading them. We've bought the
+wheat and sold it; now give us the tonnage to freight it, Redell, and
+we'll all be happy, and a little richer than we were the day before
+yesterday."
+
+Redell took up the telephone and called each shipowner, in turn, to
+inform him that he would exercise his option on the latter's ship, and
+for the owner to prepare charter parties and send them up to his office
+for signature.
+
+"I will have no difficulty in getting the owners to agree to an
+assignment of these charters to you," he advised Carter. "You and Ford
+are brothers in good standing, I take it. However, if they insist on
+doing business through me, in order that they may hold me responsible,
+I'll simply recharter to you at the same rate."
+
+"Lovely!" cried Messrs. Ford & Carter in unison.
+
+Ten minutes later J. Augustus Redell burst into Cappy Ricks' sanctum and
+wakened the old gentleman from his afternoon siesta.
+
+"The trap is set," he announced. "Come on, Cappy! We're going up to the
+broker's office now and give the order to sell our December wheat. I
+can't go alone, you know. There wouldn't be an odor of sanctity about
+the transaction if I did."
+
+"We'll have Gregg & Company attend to it for us," Cappy announced. "You
+remember Harry Gregg, don't you? Used to be in the steamship business
+years ago. Gosh, that boy knows me! He'll take a stiff finger bet from
+Alden P. Ricks."
+
+Together they motored uptown to the office of Gregg & Co., where Cappy's
+card gained him instant admittance to the broker's private office.
+Redell remained in the anteroom on pretense of speaking to an
+acquaintance, and the instant Cappy disappeared into Gregg's office
+Redell stepped out into the hall, where he waited until Cappy had booked
+his order and came hunting for him.
+
+"Well, I've sold my two hundred and fifty thousand bushels at a
+dollar-ninety," Cappy announced.
+
+"How much margin?" Redell demanded.
+
+"Oh, Gregg didn't sting me very hard. Ten cents a bushel. It seemed like
+a good bet to him. He looks for a drop in December wheat."
+
+"Met a pest out here and couldn't seem to get away from him," Redell
+explained. "Take me in and introduce me to Gregg, and I'll give him an
+order to sell a jag of wheat for me."
+
+Cappy complied and Redell gave the broker his order.
+
+"It will take about twenty-five thousand dollars to margin this trade,
+Mr. Redell," the latter remarked easily as he wrote out the order and
+handed a copy to Redell.
+
+"Nonsense!" Cappy struck in. "Mr. Redell is one of our most delightful,
+trustworthy and popular young men, and to ask him for twenty-five
+thousand dollars today would prejudice his standing with his banker. I
+guarantee him, Harry. Treat him as you'd treat me. I guarantee him up to
+a hundred thousand dollars."
+
+"Your guaranty goes with me, Mr. Ricks," Gregg answered promptly, and
+shoved the copy of the order he had just booked over to Cappy, together
+with the fountain pen. Cappy wrote: "O. K. Alden P. Ricks." Redell gave
+his check for ten thousand dollars margin and the deal was closed. When
+the scheming pair returned to Cappy's office the latter gave Redell his
+check for ten thousand to reimburse Redell for margining the trade, in
+accordance with Cappy's verbal agreement to provide the sinews of war.
+
+"Now then, Cappy," Redell announced as he stuffed Cappy's check into his
+pocket, "the next move is to return to my office, close those charters
+with the owners and turn the ships over to Ford & Carter. That matter
+attended to, I shall, with eighteen charter parties in my pocket, drift
+casually over to the Merchants' Exchange. There I shall find the market
+reporters for both of our sunrise sheets; if they are not there I shall
+wait until they arrive. These gifted young men I shall draw to one side;
+to them I shall, with great gusto, relate a tale of Number One white
+Australian wheat, shortly to descend upon the United States of America
+in no less than eighteen vessels, now chartered for that purpose, with
+more to follow. In proof of this statement I shall exhibit the charter
+parties; and then--"
+
+"Front-page story!" Cappy declared, interrupting.
+
+"Not yet--but soon. To get on the front page a story must be rather
+unusual. A perusal of our daily rags will convince the most skeptical
+that the sensational, the unusual, the bizarre are what appeal most to
+the men who make the newspapers. The unusual thing about our deal lies
+in the fact that this is the first time in the history of Australia or
+the United States that the former country has exported wheat into the
+latter--the first time the latter has ever had to call on an outsider
+for help. Then, Cappy, it will be a front-page story--and how those boys
+will hop to it! Why, we'll get a column about Australian wheat invading
+the land of the free whose rapacity threatens the very food that goes
+into the mouths of little children! Little children and their mouths is
+good stuff! I'll use that line when slipping the story to the boys. They
+might overlook it if I didn't. I'll remind them of the six-cent loaf
+of bread, the sufferings of the poor, and how far the importation of
+Australian wheat will go to knock the Chicago wheat barons for a goal."
+
+"Here, here! You're too precipitate," Cappy cautioned. "Don't tip this
+story off to both reporters. That's coarse work. Tell it to one only.
+Put him under obligations to you by seeming to give him a scoop. Tell
+him you won't say a word to his competitor, and he'll tell his city
+editor the story is exclusive; then they'll be certain to play it up
+big."
+
+"Cappy, you're the shadow of a rock in a weary land! Who'll tip off the
+other reporter?"
+
+"I will, of course. Leave it to me. A man doesn't go through the mill
+of Big Business without knowing the way of that singularly useful
+individual, the newspaper man."
+
+Redell sat down and laughed until the tears ran down his merry
+countenance. Cappy thought the outlook sufficiently cheerful to warrant
+that laugh, and suspected nothing. He even joined in the laugh.
+
+"And to-morrow morning, when that story appears, the local brokerage
+firms will be calling up Ford friend and gave him a paternal hug. He
+winked wickedly.
+
+"My dear boy," he suggested, "suppose you and I go out and pin one on?
+Hey? How about you, boy? A pint of '98, in order that we may properly
+drink confusion to the wolf of want and damnation to dull care!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+
+Late that afternoon Cappy Ricks graciously summoned the Chronicle
+reporter to his office and told him in detail all he knew about the
+Australian wheat invasion.
+
+"Of course," he added, "this may be mere street gossip; but I think
+there's something in it, my boy. At any rate, I thought you might care
+to be tipped off to the situation. It looks like a corking story to me.
+I suggest that you call up Ford & Carter and see what they have to say
+about it."
+
+"I wonder whether the Examiner reporter has a tip on this?" the
+Chronicle man queried hopefully.
+
+"Not from me. This story is for you, young man. That's why I called you
+down to my office."
+
+About the same hour J. Augustus Redell might have been seen at the press
+table on 'Change, unfolding a similar story to the market reporter
+of the Examiner, who thought it was a humdinger of a story, and so
+declared.
+
+"All right. Glad you think so," Mr. Redell replied, beaming upon him.
+"And just to show you I'm right, I'll not breathe a word of it to the
+Chronicle man."
+
+Having planted his journalistic bomb, Mr. Redell glanced at his watch.
+It was exactly eleven o'clock. "I still have time," he murmured, and
+departed immediately to the office of Gregg of December wheat, but to
+cease selling the instant the market hesitated to absorb it or the price
+broke a point. At the same moment, in another brokerage office, Cappy
+Ricks was issuing a similar order. Before the market closed, Cappy had
+succeeded in selling a hundred and eighty thousand bushels, while Redell
+had disposed of a hundred and thirty. Evidently the bears took it as it
+came, for the market closed strong at $1.89.
+
+Neither Cappy nor Redell reported at his office the following day. At
+the hour when the market opened in Chicago both schemers appeared on
+the floor of the Merchants' Exchange and bent their gaze upon the
+only blackboard on 'Change they had not heretofore honored with
+their scrutiny--the board in back of the Grain Pit, which carried the
+quotations on the Chicago Board of Trade, already beginning to come in
+by wire.
+
+For an hour the trading was inactive. Then suddenly the price broke
+half a point as somebody tossed a lot of fifty thousand bushels on
+the market. Cappy and Redell each wondered whether he might not be the
+responsible party; and while they pondered somebody unloaded a hundred
+thousand bushels at $1.88. Cappy gasped as the quotations appeared on
+the blackboard.
+
+"Something doing, Gus!" he whispered; Redell nodded.
+
+And now commenced a period of wild trading. The price crept back to
+$1.89, only to be assaulted and beaten back to $1.87; then, fraction
+by fraction and point by point, the price fell; and J. Augustus Redell
+wagged his head approvingly.
+
+"They have received our message," he said. "The riot is on!"
+
+When the price had been beaten down to $1.83 Cappy turned to his
+associate.
+
+"I'm through!" he said. "Time to cover my shorts." And he trotted away
+to a telephone booth.
+
+As for Redell, he would not intrust his fortune to a telephonic order,
+but sprang into 'his runabout, parked at the curb outside the Exchange,
+and scorched uptown to Gregg & Co.'s offices, where he learned that he
+had sold four hundred and ten thousand bushels of December wheat. One
+hundred thousand had been sold at $1.90, two hundred and eighty thousand
+at prices varying from $1.89 to $1.88 1/8, and the remainder at 1.88.
+
+"Buy me four hundred and ten thousand bushels at the market," he
+ordered.
+
+Before he left the office the sale had been confirmed and Mr. Redell's
+shorts had been covered at a price ranging from $1.83 to $1.83 5/8,
+whereupon he closed out his trade and received a check for his margin
+and his profits. An hour later he met Cappy Ricks again on 'Change.
+
+"Well, Cappy?" he queried.
+
+"I cleaned up, thank you," the old gentleman informed him. "Sold,
+bought, and got the money. This is one time it rained duck soup and I
+was there with a bucket."
+
+He prodded Mr. Redell playfully in the short ribs and the incident was
+closed. They had made a profit of more than twenty thousand dollars
+each; and when each returned to his office he forgot all about December
+wheat until half past five that evening, when both met on the deserted
+floor of the exchange to scan the blackboard. December wheat had closed
+that day at $1.83! Two days later J. Augustus Redell called Cappy Ricks
+on the telephone.
+
+"That you, Cappy?"
+
+"Yep!"
+
+"Redell speaking. Read the story on the front page of the Chronicle this
+morning?"
+
+"No; what was it?"
+
+"The British Government has placed an embargo on the exportation of
+wheat from Australia; so all those eighteen charters I negotiated with
+Ford were placed with Ford & Carter subject to Ford & Carter's ability
+to make delivery and to prior sale. Before Ford & Carter could make
+them firm orders and get in over their heads, I tipped them off to the
+possibility of this government embargo."
+
+"You tipped them off! How did you know the British Government was going
+to clap an embargo on Australian wheat?"
+
+"Why, I didn't know," Redell confessed. "I just guessed it would; so
+I advised Ford than I did--and I made a trifle more than twenty-four
+thousand dollars."
+
+"Is that so? Well, listen to me tell it; When you and I cashed in that
+day our deal was closed wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And I'd played fair with you?"
+
+"You certainly did, Gus."
+
+"Then I was freed from any further obligations to take you into
+partnership with me, was I not?"
+
+"That's how I figure it, my boy."
+
+"That's how I figured it also, Cappy. Consequently, being morally
+certain that the British Government would place an embargo on the
+exportation of Australian wheat--Cappy, you must admit that the British
+Government would have been absolutely crazy if it hadn't--I just called
+on Gregg & Co. and bought another half million bushels of December wheat
+at $1.83 to $1.84 a bushel. Then I sat tight and waited for that embargo
+story to break. Cappy, do you know that story just raised hell on the
+Chicago Pit today? The bears were caught napping; and the bulls got busy
+and kicked the price up to $1.90 again, at which figure I unloaded and
+took my profit."
+
+"You amazing rascal! Why didn't you tip your partner off to that deal?"
+
+"We were no longer partners. You admitted that a moment ago. When I
+first outlined this scheme I didn't have a dollar to spare with which I
+could speculate. Every last cent was tied up in the business of the
+West Coast Trading Company. So I schemed to take you in as a partner on
+one-half of the deal; and you not only financed me but guaranteed me to
+the broker! Your introduction was all I wanted. After that my credit
+was as good as December wheat; in consequence of which, without a cent
+invested, I was actually enabled to carry a trade for half a million
+bushels! Much obliged to you, Cappy. You're a fine old sport, and I
+like you--I wouldn't be surprised if you laid off on me after this--eh,
+Cappy?"
+
+"Gus," said Cappy Ricks, "one of these days the Democratic party is
+going to wake up and discover that America isn't where they left it the
+night before! And when that happens they're going to ask you about it,
+you--you--infer-nal--"
+
+The phone clicked. J. Augustus Redell had hung up.
+
+"Drat it!--God bless him!" murmured Cappy Ricks--and hung up, too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+
+Whenever Cappy Ricks made up his mind that his Blue Star Navigation
+Company ought to add another vessel to its rapidly growing fleet, he
+preferred to build her; for a few bitter experiences early in life
+had convinced him that the man who buys the other fellow's ship
+quite frequently is given a bonus in the shape of the other fellow's
+troubles--troubles which have the unhappy faculty of tilting the
+profit-and-loss account over into the red-ink figures. In order to avoid
+these troubles, therefore, Cappy would summon his naval architect, whom
+he would practically drive to distraction by fussing over the plans
+submitted before giving a final grudging acceptance. The blue prints
+approved, Cappy would spend a week picking holes in the specifications,
+and when there was no more fault to find Mr. Skinner, his general
+manager and the president of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, would
+send a list of the timbers, planking, and so on required, to one of
+Cappy's sawmills in Washington; for Cappy had a theory--the good
+Lord knows why or where acquired--that Douglas fir from the state of
+Washington was better for shipbuilding purposes than Douglas fir grown
+in Oregon. Perhaps he figured that the Columbia River, which separates
+the two states, made a difference in grade.
+
+The woods boss would then be adjured to select his trees with great
+care. No tree would do that sprouted a limb within eighty feet of the
+butt, and the butt had to be at least six feet in diameter, in order
+that it might produce fine, clear, long-length planks that would not
+contain "heart" timber--the heart of a log having a tendency to check
+or split when seasoned. When the material was sawed a Blue Star steam
+schooner would transport it to San Francisco Bay, and it would be stored
+in Cappy's retail lumber yard in Oakland, to be seasoned and air-dried;
+following which Cappy Ricks would let the contract for the building of
+the vessel to a shipyard on Oakland Estuary, and sell the builder this
+seasoned stock at the price of rough green material, even though it was
+worth two dollars a thousand extra--not to mention the additional value
+for the extra-long lengths furnished specially. Cappy's ancestors, back
+in Maine, had built too many ships to have failed to impress upon
+him the wisdom of this course; for, on this point at least, initial
+extravagance inevitably develops into ultimate economy.
+
+Following the laying of the keel, Cappy would come out of retirement and
+become an extremely busy man. He had the vessel's engines to consider;
+and for two weeks his private office would resound with the arguments
+and recriminations of Cappy and his port engineer. There would be
+much talk of pistons, displacement of cylinders, stroke, reciprocating
+engines, steeple compound and triple-expansion engines, Scotch boilers,
+winches, compressors, dynamos, composition and iron propellers and the
+latest developments in crude-oil burners. And on the day when the port
+engineer, grown desperate because of the old man's opposition to some
+detail, would fly into a rage and resign, Cappy would know that, at
+last, everything was all right; whereupon he would scornfully reject
+the resignation and take his port engineer to luncheon at the Commercial
+Club, just to show he wasn't harboring a grudge.
+
+In the meantime the port captain would be making daily visits to the
+shipyard to make certain that the builder was holding rigidly to the
+specifications and not trying to skimp here and there; and on Saturdays
+Cappy would accompany him and satisfy himself that the port captain
+wasn't being imposed upon. Finally the ship would be launched; and as
+she slid down the ways Cappy Ricks would be standing on her forecastle
+head, his old heart fluttering in his thirty-six-inch chest and his
+coat-tails fluttering in the breeze, one arm round the port captain and
+the other round the port engineer. As the hull slipped into the drink he
+would say:
+
+"Boys, this is the life! I love it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,
+there's more romance in ships than you'll find in most married lives!"
+Then he would wave an arm up Oakland Estuary, which prior to the great
+war was the graveyard of Pacific Coast shipping, and say with great
+pride: "Well, we've done a good job on this craft, boys; she'll never
+end in Rotten Row! Every sliver in her is air-dried and seasoned. That's
+the stuff! Build 'em of unseasoned material and dry rot develops the
+first year; in five years they're punk inside, and then--some fine day
+they're posted as missing at Lloyd's. Did you ever see a Blue Star ship
+lying in Rotten Row? No; you bet you didn't--and you never will! I never
+built a cheap boat and I never ran 'em cheap. By gravy, the Blue Star
+ships are like the Blue Nose that owns 'em! They'll be found dead on the
+job!"
+
+Quite early in 1915 the Blue Star Navigation Company had found ample
+opportunity, due to a world scarcity of tonnage, to dispose of several
+of their oldest and smallest steam schooners at unbelievably fine
+prices.
+
+"Get rid of them, Matt," Cappy advised his son-in-law, Captain Matt
+Peasley, whom he had made president of the company. "You have the
+permission of the president emeritus to go as far as you like. Big boats
+for us from now on, boy. Slip the little ones while the slipping is
+good. These high prices will not prevail very long--only while the
+war continues; and at the rate they're slaughtering each other over
+in France the war will be over in six months; then prices will fall
+kerflump! Then we'll build a couple of real steamers."
+
+So Matt Peasley promptly sold five steam schooners, following which he
+made up his mind that the world still had two years of war ahead of
+it. Accordingly he urged the letting of contracts for two
+seven-thousand-five-hundred-ton steel freighters immediately.
+
+"Nothing doing!" Cappy declared. "Why, it's rank nonsense to think of
+building now at wartime prices. If our recent sales have pinched us for
+tonnage we'll have to charter from our neighbors and worry along as best
+we can until the war is over."
+
+"You're making a mistake, Cappy Ricks," his son-in-law warned him.
+
+"Ask Skinner if I am. Skinner, let's have your opinion."
+
+Mr. Skinner, always cautious and ultra-conservative promptly advised
+against Matt Peasley's course; but Matt would not be downed without a
+fight.
+
+"I know prices for ship construction are fearfully high just now," he
+admitted; "but--mark my words!--they're going to double; and if we
+place our contracts now, while we have an opportunity to do so, we'll
+be getting in on the ground floor. I tell you that war hasn't really
+started yet; and the longer it continues the higher will prices on all
+commodities soar--but principally on ship construction. Father-in-law, I
+beg of you to let me get busy and build. Suppose the boats do cost us a
+quarter of a million dollars more each than we could have built them
+for in 1914. What of it? We have the money--and if we didn't have it we
+could borrow it. I don't care what a ship costs me when freight rates
+are soaring to meet the advance in construction costs."
+
+Nevertheless, Cappy and Mr. Skinner hooted him down. Three months later,
+however, when Cappy Ricks had changed his mind, and Mr. Skinner was too
+heartbroken to curse himself for a purblind idiot, it was too late to
+place the contracts. Every shipyard in the United States and abroad was
+loaded up with building orders for three years in advance, and the Blue
+Star Navigation Company was left to twiddle its corporate thumbs. Matt
+Peasley was so angry that he almost speculated on the delight of being
+at sea again, in command of a square rigger, with Cappy Ricks and Mr.
+Skinner signed on as A.B.'s; in which condition of servitude he might
+dare to call them aft and knock their heads together. However, he
+managed to have his revenge. Every time nitrate freights went up a
+dollar a ton he told them about it with great gusto, and the day he
+chartered the _Tillicum_ for Vladivostok, with steel for the Russian
+Government at seventy-five dollars a ton, he had poor Cappy moaning in
+his wretchedness.
+
+"Just think how nice it would be," he taunted his aged relative, "if
+we had only placed contracts for two big boats when I urged it. By the
+middle of summer I'd have them both on the Vladivostok run--perhaps at a
+hundred dollars a ton; and long before the war is over you could do what
+you've been trying to do for the past ten years."
+
+"Do what?" Cappy queried.
+
+"Retire!" Matt retorted meaningly.
+
+"In-fernal young scoundrel!" Cappy was angry enough to commit murder.
+"Out of my office!" he shrilled, and pointed to the door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+
+For once in his busy life it was, figuratively speaking, raining duck
+soup, and poor Cappy was there with a fork! When he had recovered his
+composure he sent for Matt Peasley.
+
+"Matt, my dear boy," he confessed miserably, "this is certainly one
+occasion upon which father appears to have overlooked his hand. However,
+none of us is perfect; and if we're caught out without an umbrella, so
+to speak--"
+
+"We?" Matt reminded him witheringly. "Cappy, it's all right to use
+that 'we' stuff when you're talking to Skinner, but trot out the
+perpendicular pronoun when you're talking to me. I hate to say 'I told
+you so'; but--"
+
+"Lay off me!" Cappy pleaded. "I'm an old man, Matt; so be easy on me.
+Besides, I don't make a mistake very often, and you know it."
+
+"I do know it. But when you blocked me on that building scheme you
+certainly made up for lost time. Really, Cappy, you mustn't make me play
+so close to my vest in these brisk times. If I'm to manage the Blue Star
+Navigation Company I mustn't have my ideas pooh-poohed as if I were a
+hare-brained child."
+
+"I know, Matt; I know. But I built up the Blue Star Navigation Company
+and the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company by playing 'em close, and it's a
+hard habit to break.
+
+"However, let us forget the past and look forward with confidence to
+the future. Matt, my dear boy, since we cannot get a shipyard to build
+a steamer for us, I'm going to break a rule of forty years' standing
+and buy one in the open market. I guess that'll prove to you I'm not so
+hide-bound with conservatism as you think. Go forth into the highways
+and the byways, Matt, and see what they have for sale."
+
+"How high do you want me to go?"
+
+"As high as they hung Haman--if you find it necessary."
+
+"That's certainly a free hand; but I'm afraid it comes too late. I
+doubt if there is an owner with the kind of steamer we want who is crazy
+enough to sell her."
+
+"Tish! Tush! All things are for sale all the time. Scour the market,
+Matt, and you'll find Cappy Ricks isn't the only damned fool left in the
+shipping business. My boy, you'd be surprised at the number of so-called
+business men who are entirely devoid of imagination. Dozens of them
+still think the war will end this fall, but I'm willing to make a
+healthy bet that the fall of 1917 still finds them going to it to beat
+four of a kind."
+
+"You said something that time, father-in-law," Matt replied laughingly.
+
+Then he roughed the old man affectionately and went forth into
+California Street, where he wore out much shoe leather before he
+located what he considered a bargain and reported back to the president
+emeritus.
+
+"You're right, Cappy!" he declared. "You aren't the only boob in the
+shipping business. I've located another."
+
+"That's what you get by taking father's advice," Gappy retorted proudly.
+"Have you bought a steamer?"
+
+"No; but I'm going to buy one this afternoon. She's going to cost us
+half a million dollars, cash on the nail, and I have an option on her at
+that figure until noon today. Skinner has a lot of lumber money he isn't
+using, and I'm going to borrow a quarter of a million from his company
+on the Blue Star note at six per cent. Don't want to run our own
+treasury too low."
+
+"Dog-gone that Skinner! That's some more of his efficiency. I own both
+companies, and it's just like taking money out of one pocket and putting
+it into the other; but Skinner's a bug on system. Just think of making
+me pay myself six per cent interest! However, I suppose we must have
+some kind of order. What's the name of the steamer?"
+
+"The _Penelope_."
+
+Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair, placed one hand on each
+knee, and appraisingly eyed his son-in-law over the rims of his glasses.
+
+"Say that again, Matt--and say it slow," he ordered.
+
+"I said _Penelope--P-e-n-e-l-o-p-e_. Maybe you call her the
+_Pen-elope!_"
+
+"Are you buying her as is?" Matt nodded. "To hear you tell it, Matt, one
+might gather the impression that half a million dollars is about what
+we give the janitor at Christmas. Boy, half a million dollars is real
+money."
+
+"Not in the shipping business these days, Cappy. Why, you have to wave
+that much under an owner's nose before he'll look up and show interest
+enough to ask you who you are and who let you in."
+
+"Well, the man who would, in cold blood, consider paying half a million
+dollars for the _Penelope_ is certainly ripe for a padded cell," Cappy
+jeered. "That fellow Hudner, of the Black Butte Lumber Company, owns
+her, does he not?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then you know exactly the condition she's in. I'll bet a cooky her
+bottom plates are rusted so thin from lack of an occasional coat of red
+paint that if you were to stand on her bridge and toss a tack
+hammer down her main hatch you'd punch a hole in her. She's a long,
+narrow-gutted, cranky coffin--that's what she is; and the worst-found
+ship in Pacific waters. Why, let me tell you something, young man: she
+can't get by the inspectors this minute."
+
+"She has just gotten by them," Matt contradicted. "Passed yesterday."
+
+"What does that signify? When her skipper has her up for inspection he
+scours the water front like a hungry dog, borrowing a boathook here, a
+sound life-boat there, some fire buckets elsewhere, a hose from the fire
+tug, and a lot of engine-room tools wherever he can get them. As for
+life preservers, he rents them for ten cents each from a marine junk
+dealer. So, when the inspectors arrive, the _Penelope_ is a well-found
+ship; as soon as they pass her the skipper returns the equipment, with
+thanks. As for paint--why, the only painting she ever gets is when
+Hudner lays her alongside some British ship to discharge a foreign cargo
+of lumber into the lime-juicer; then her mate steals all the paint
+in the Britisher's lazaret. The poor, unfortunate devil! He has to do
+something to make a showing with the _Penelope's_ owner! I tell you,
+Matt, I know this man Hudner! He's as thrifty as an Armenian and as
+slippery as a skating rink. He's laying to stab you, boy. Mind your
+step!"
+
+"Even so, Cappy, she's a bargain. I expect to spend fifty thousand
+dollars putting her in first-class condition after we get her."
+
+"You expect to spend it! Why, how you talk! Hudner is the one that
+should spend that money. For the love of trade, what is he selling you?
+A ship or a hulk?"
+
+"I don't care what she is; we can make her pay for herself and earn half
+a million or a million extra before this war ends. And she won't be such
+a bad vessel after she's shipped a couple of new plates. She has a dead
+weight capacity for six thousand tons and was built at Sunderland in
+1902. When she went ashore off Point Sur, in 1909, Hudner bought her
+from the underwriters for five thousand dollars and spent more than half
+her original cost repairing her. That, of course, made her tantamount to
+a ship built in the United States, and under American registry she can
+run between American ports. And that's what we want. She'll be just the
+thing to carry lumber to New York, via the Canal, when the war ends and
+the nitrate harvest is over."
+
+Cappy Ricks threw up his hands.
+
+"You see before you, my boy," he said mournfully, "a dollar-burdened,
+world-weary old man, who for ten years has been trying to retire from
+active business, and cannot. The reason is he dassent; if he dassed,
+this shebang would be in the hands of the sheriff within a year. Now,
+listen, young feller! I know all about the _Penelope_. Before the war
+she had repaid Hudner, with interest, every cent she cost him, and since
+the war I suppose she's made half a million dollars. Now when Hudner
+finds he has to spend a lot of money fixing her up, he figures it's best
+to get rid of her and saddle somebody else with the bill. Her intrinsic
+value is just about one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, and
+when Hudner asks half a million for her he expects to get four hundred
+and fifty thousand. In order to play safe, go back and offer him four
+hundred thousand dollars; presently he'll come down fifty thousand and
+you'll come up fifty thousand, and the trade will be closed on that
+basis. Meantime I'll sit here and weep as I reflect on the cost of
+putting that ruin in fit shape to receive a Blue Star house flag. I tell
+you, Matt, I wouldn't send Pancho Villa to sea in her as she is now."
+
+Matt Peasley, like Cappy Ricks, was a Yankee; when he did business he
+liked to chaffer; and, after all--he thought--there was a certain shrewd
+philosophy in what his foxy father-in-law had said. At least Cappy had
+supplied him with ammunition for argument; so he went back to Hudner's
+office and argued and pleaded and ridiculed, but all to no avail. He
+returned to Cappy Ricks' office.
+
+"I fought him all over his office," he complained, "but he wouldn't
+come down a cent. I think we'd better take a chance and give him half a
+million."
+
+"Fiddlesticks! Stay with him, Matt. I know Hudner. He acts like he's
+full of bellicose veins, but anybody can outgame him. Let your option
+expire; then to-morrow meet him accidentally on 'Change and talk with
+him half an hour about everything on earth except the S. S. _Penelope_.
+Just before you leave him he'll grab you by the lapel of your coat and
+ask if you're still interested in the _Penelope_. Then you say: 'Why,
+yes--moderately; but not at half a million.' Then you make him a firm
+offer--for the last time--of four hundred and fifty thousand dollars;
+and he'll say: 'I'll split the difference with you'--and before he can
+crawfish you accept. You're bound to make at least twenty-five thousand
+by following my advice, Matt."
+
+Matt Peasley ran his big hand through his thick black locks.
+
+"By jingo," he declared, "we'd make twenty-five thousand dollars while
+we're dickering with Hudner!"
+
+"I know, my boy; but then I don't like Hudner, and it's awful to do
+business with a son of a horsethief you don't like and let him put one
+over on you. That's the thrill of doing business, Matt. Though I'd hate
+to have anybody think I'm in business for fun, still, if I thought
+I couldn't get some fun out of business I'd go right down to Mission
+Street Wharf and end all."
+
+"Nitrate freights are up to thirty dollars a ton," said Matt later that
+day. "They were twelve a year and a half ago. Cappy, we can't risk the
+delay; and I'm sorry I took your advice and let my option expire. I
+insist on buying." He reached for Cappy's desk 'phone. "I'm going to
+tell Hudner to prepare the bill of sale--that I'll be up in fifteen
+minutes with the check. He who hesitates is lost, and--"
+
+The door opened and a youth stood in the entrance.
+
+"Mr. J. O. Heyfuss is calling," he announced.
+
+"Show him in immediately," Cappy ordered, glad of the opportunity to
+delay Matt's telephonic acceptance of the vessel at Hudner's price.
+"Hold on a minute, Matt," he continued, turning to his son-in-law.
+"Heyfuss is a ship broker; maybe he has a ship to sell us; she might
+prove to be a better buy than the _Penelope_... Howdy, Heyfuss? Come in
+and sit down."
+
+Mr. Heyfuss entered smilingly, saluted both satellites of the Blue Star
+and sat down.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," he announced, "wonders will never cease. Every day
+I'm seeing, hearing and doing wonderful things in the shipping business.
+Day before yesterday I bought the old barkentine _Mayfair_. She'd been
+laid up in Rotten Row for seven years, and for at least four years the
+tide has been rising and falling inside her. She cost me seven hundred
+and fifty dollars, and I sold her the same afternoon to Al Hanify for
+a thousand. Not very much of a profit; but then it was Saturday and
+everybody closes up shop at noon, you know. So I felt the day wasn't a
+blank, anyhow.
+
+"And what do you suppose Al did? You'll laugh. He called up Crowley her
+out on Hanlon's Marine Way, putting a new bottom in her. They're going
+to spend twenty thousand dollars on her; and when she's ready for sea
+Redell has a cargo of fir for Sydney waiting for her.
+
+"She'll come back with coal and make her owners at least fifty thousand
+dollars."
+
+"That's all very interesting to outsiders, but commonplace stuff to us,"
+Cappy reminded his visitor. "Have you got a commission to sell a ship
+for somebody?"
+
+"Want one?"
+
+"Surest thing you know!"
+
+"All right. I'll sell you the _Alden Besse_. She's an old tea clipper,
+built in the forties; but she's sound and tight. Been a motion picture
+ship for the past five years. I can deliver her to you for forty
+thousand dollars."
+
+"No, you'll not. I sold her to the motion picture people for fifteen
+hundred," Cappy countered, "and I don't want her back at any price.
+I send my boys to sea to earn a safe living, not to visit Davy Jones'
+locker."
+
+"Well, I think I might get you the old Australian prison ship,
+_Success_. She was built at Rangoon in 1790, of teak, and will last
+forever. Perhaps you saw her when she was exhibited at the Exposition
+last year. Might get her for you kind of cheap."
+
+"Nothing doing. Heyfuss, we want a steamer."
+
+"Sorry, but I haven't a thing in steamers. Just sold the last one I had
+ten minutes ago--the _Penelope_."
+
+"The what!" Matt Peasley and Cappy cried in chorus.
+
+"The _Penelope_. Sold her to a big Eastern powder company. She goes into
+the nitrate trade, of course. These munition manufacturers must have
+powder, and to get powder they must have nitrate, and to get nitrate
+they must have ships, and to get ships they must pay the price. I got
+Hudner a million dollars for that ruin of a _Penelope._"
+
+Matt Peasley gently seized J. O. Heyfuss by the ear and led him to the
+door.
+
+"Out, thief!" he cried. "You can't sell us anything; so we don't want
+you hanging round this office. You might steal the safe or a roll-top
+desk, or something."
+
+Heyfuss departed, laughing good-naturedly, and Matt Peasley turned to
+confront Cappy Ricks. The latter had shrunk up in his chair and was
+looking as chopfallen and guilty as a dog caught sucking eggs. He
+favored his big son-in-law with a quick, shifty glance, and then looked
+down at the carpet.
+
+Matt folded his arms and stared at him until he looked up.
+
+"Don't you go to pick on me!" he warned Matt furiously. "I'll not be
+picked on in my own office, even by a relative."
+
+Matt threw back his head and chanted,
+
+
+   _"There was I, waiting at the church,
+    Waiting at the church--"_
+
+"I was right!" Cappy shrilled. "My mode of procedure was without a
+flaw."
+
+"Absolutely! The operation was a success, but the patient died."
+
+"But a feller just has to haggle!" Cappy wailed. He was almost on the
+verge of tears. "It's the basic principle of all trading. Why, I've made
+my everlasting fortune by haggling. Drat your picture, don't you
+know that the very pillars of financial success rest on
+counter-propositions?"
+
+"Listen, relative, listen: I haven't said a word to you, have I?" Matt
+replied.
+
+"No; but you looked it, and I'll not be looked at."
+
+"All right, Cappy, I'll not look. But I can't help thinking."
+
+"Thinking what?"
+
+"That it's about time you quit talking about retiring--and retired!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+
+With this Parthian shot Matt himself retired, leaving Cappy to shiver
+and bow his head on his breast; in which position he remained motionless
+for fully an hour.
+
+"I guess the boy's right," he soliloquized finally. "I think I'd better
+retire, after pulling that kind of a deal twice in the same place. The
+pace is getting too swift for me, I think; I can't keep up... Well, I
+guess they've got the goods on me this time. Matt was certainly on the
+job twice, and I blocked him both times ... Oh, Lord! I'll never hear
+the last of this... By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I've lost my punch!
+Matt didn't say so; but he thinks it. And I don't blame him a bit."
+
+The door of Cappy's office opened and again the youth stood in the
+entrance. "Mr. Redell is calling; there's a gentleman with him," he
+announced.
+
+"Tell 'em I'm busier'n a cranberry merchant," Cappy snarled. "And unless
+you're figuring on hunting a new job, my son, don't you come in here
+again today."
+
+The youth retired. However, he knew from experience that Cappy Ricks
+never discharged anybody save for insubordination or rank incompetence;
+hence, he did not hesitate to disobey the old gentleman's edict.
+
+"Mr. Redell says his business is very important," he announced,
+presenting himself once more at the door.
+
+"All right! No rest for the weary. Show them in."
+
+J. Augustus Redell entered, accompanied by no less a personage than the
+British Consul. Cappy greeted them without enthusiasm and bade them be
+seated.
+
+"Well," J. Augustus Redell announced cheerily, "It's plain to be seen
+that Little Sunshine hasn't been round this office recently."
+
+Cappy grunted.
+
+"What's gone wrong, Cappy?"
+
+"Everything! Been going wrong for years and I never realized it until
+this afternoon. Ah, Gus, my dear young friend, how I envy you your
+youth, your capacity to think, your golden dreams, your boundless
+energy, your ability to make two-dollar bills grow where one-dollar
+bills grew before, thus making an apparently barren prospect as verdant
+as a meadow in spring. But make the most of your opportunity, young
+feller! The day will come to you, as it has come to me, when everything
+you do will be done twenty minutes too late; when every dollar you make
+will be subject to a cash discount of one hundred per cent; when every
+competitor you held cheap will suddenly develop the luck of the devil,
+the brains of a Demosthenes, and the courage of a hog going to war."
+
+"I should judge that you have recently suffered a great bereavement."
+
+"I have, Augustus, I have. Through my indecision I have just lost a
+bank roll a greyhound couldn't have jumped over. Suppose it was a paper
+profit? I grieve just the same."
+
+"Forget it, Cappy! Life is real, life is earnest, and you have a bank
+roll of real profits a giraffe couldn't reach the top of."
+
+"Oh, it isn't the money, Gus. Money is only a vulgar symbol of my
+bereavement. The trouble is--I've lost my punch! I can't think, Gus; I
+can't act promptly. I'm out of touch with my times. I remind myself of
+nothing so much as the old rooster that suddenly discovered he had been
+elected to furnish the dinner the following Sunday. His hens cackled and
+called to him that they had found some worms, but he wouldn't pay
+any attention to them; just leaned up against the wire netting in the
+poultry yard and said to himself: 'Oh, hell! What's the use? Today an
+egg--tomorrow a feather duster!'"
+
+"Don't be pessimistic, Cappy. Don't! It doesn't become you, and I don't
+believe a word you're telling me. You're still the old he-fox of the
+world; and I've come to you for help on a deal that's going to mean a
+whole lot of money to both of us if we can only put it through."
+
+"I'm sorry, Gus, but I'm not interested. As a matter of fact, I've
+retired."
+
+"Nonsense! Nonsense! I know where there's a beautiful ten-thousand-ton,
+net register, steel steamer to be bought for three hundred thousand
+dollars--"
+
+Cappy Ricks threw out an arm and pressed his hand against Redell's
+mouth.
+
+"Sh-h-h!" he warned. "Sh-h-h! Hush!"
+
+With the agility of a man half his age Cappy ran to the door, bolted it
+on the inside and returned to his desk. He was rubbing his hands and his
+eyes were aglow with interest.
+
+"What are you sh-h-h-ing about?" Redell demanded.
+
+"Matt Peasley and that cowardly Skinner. Not a word of this to them,
+Gus! Not--a--whisper!" And he winked one eye and twisted up the corner
+of his mouth knowingly. Mr. Redell nodded his promise and Cappy went on:
+"Now Gus, my dear young friend, start in at the beginning and tell me
+everything. I assume, of course, that this is real business and not
+another of your jokes on the old man. Word of honor, Gus?"
+
+"Word of honor, Cappy."
+
+"All right; blaze away! Come, come! What have you got to offer?"
+
+"I have a condition and I offer you a half interest in it if you can
+suggest a plan to circumvent His Royal Highness, Kaiser Wilhelm--"
+
+"Hum-m-m! Enough!" Cappy interrupted, and turned to the British
+Consul: "This is an international affair, eh? See if I don't state
+the proposition in a nutshell--if I may be pardoned the bromide.
+This steamer is a German, and the proposition is to get her under the
+American flag so firmly that she'll stay there; then, I suppose,
+we're to charter her to the British Government, or one of Britain's
+allies--Russia, for instance."
+
+J. Augustus Redell and the British Consul exchanged admiring winks.
+
+"What did I tell you, Mister Consul?" Redell declared triumphantly. "Mr.
+Ricks knows the story before we have told it. And yet he's complaining
+about the loss of his punch!"
+
+Cappy looked slightly self-conscious; it was plain the compliment
+pleased him.
+
+"Well, Gus, my boy," he answered, "I have lost my punch, though at that
+I'm not exactly a pork-and-beaner. Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! This must
+be a hard order to fill. Mister Consul, when Gus Redell has to come
+to me for help. That son of a gun can move faster and go through more
+obstacles than quicksilver. Gus, what's gone wrong with you? Have you
+lost your punch too? And at your age?"
+
+"Looks like it, Cappy. I've thought and thought until I'm desperate, and
+not an idea worth while has presented itself. That's why I've come to
+you."
+
+"Well, I don't guarantee a cure, my boy. But I'll say this much: If you
+and I can't put this thing over, then it just isn't put-overable. Fire
+away, Gus!"
+
+"Have you ever heard of the steamer _Bavarian?"_
+
+"Of course! She belongs to Adolph Koenitz and flies the German flag.
+Since the war started she's been interned down in Mission Bay."
+
+Redell nodded.
+
+"Adolph Koenitz never became an American citizen, despite the fact that
+he had lived in San Francisco twenty years and operated three steamers
+out of this port. He was a reserve officer in the German Navy; and when
+the war broke out he interned his ships, placed his entire estate in his
+wife's name and reported for duty. He perished in the Battle of Jutland,
+both his boys were killed at Verdun, and now his widow would like to
+sell the _Bavarian_ and get some cash. She had a large income from an
+estate in Germany, but the war cut that off.
+
+"Also, it appears that Koenitz was rather heavily involved, and the
+expense of maintaining those interned steamers, with their German crews
+aboard, has his widow badly worried; in fact, she has reached the point
+where she finds it necessary to sell one of the steamers in order to
+hang on to the other two. She has tried to raise a mortgage on the
+_Bavarian_, but nobody cares to loan money on an interned German
+steamer."
+
+"Naturally," Cappy replied sarcastically. "And I'm amazed that you
+should consider me boob enough to consider seriously buying the same
+steamer outright! Gus, I'd have about as much use for that steamer as
+I would have for a tail. Even if I should buy her now, and not use her
+until the war is over, I should be risking my money; for the German
+Government, if you remember, issued an order in 1915 forbidding its
+subjects to sell their interned ships without the consent of the said
+government. And, even if Mrs. Koenitz can procure the Kaiser's consent,
+I fail to see the wisdom of tying up three hundred thousand dollars in
+an idle investment."
+
+"Ah, but under those circumstances she wouldn't be an idle investment."
+
+"Yes, she would, my boy. Great Britain issued an Order in Council in
+1914 notifying all neutral nations that she would not sanction the
+transfer of registry of any German vessel. A few daring devils took a
+chance--and what happened? The British Navy overhauled the ships at
+sea and took them into a British port where a British prize court
+confiscated them. There is the case of the _Mazatlan_, for instance. She
+was German owned and flew the German flag; her owner put her under the
+Mexican flag, and subsequently she was sold at a bargain to one of our
+neighbors, who put her under American registry. Do you know where the
+_Mazatlan_ is now? Well, I'll tell you: She's freighting war munitions
+for Johnny Bull--and our optimistic neighbor isn't collecting the
+freight money either."
+
+"Quite true, Mr. Ricks; quite true--in ordinary cases," the Consul told
+him smilingly.
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! I smell a mouse. Hum-m-m! That
+simplifies matters. We-l-l! If you are in position, Mister Consul, to
+give me your word of honor as a gentleman and an officer of your king
+that the British Navy will turn its blind side to the _Bavarian_ when
+she puts to sea, I'll buy the _Bavarian_ so fast it'll make your head
+swim. In return for this favor, of course, I am to charter the ship at
+the going rates to--"
+
+"Our ally, the Russian Government, Mr. Ricks. And you have my word of
+honor, which is all I can give you; for a deal like this, as you know,
+cannot be made in writing. I have had the matter up with the Admiralty,
+however, and permission has been granted me to give the verbal assurance
+of my government."
+
+"I'll make a finger bet with your government, Mister Consul. As for
+Kaiser Bill's consent to the transfer--_heraus mit 'em!_ We'll get along
+without that. Wilhelm doesn't cut much ice with me these days and I'm
+willing to wager the price of the _Bavarian_ that such ice as he does
+cut will blame soon melt. Gus, you say Mrs. Koenitz wants to sell?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And she doesn't care who buys?"
+
+"Not a particle! She's sore on the Kaiser; it's been thumbs down on
+Wilhelm ever since Adolph and the boys lost the number of their mess.
+She says to me: 'Herr Riddle, dot Kaiser orders war like I order beer!'
+However, there's an 'if' to the transfer. While we know the British
+Navy will not bother us should we buy the steamer, still enthusiastic
+Britishers all over the world will have their eyes on the _Bavarian_
+and clamor for her capture. Great Britain cannot publicly--or, at least,
+obviously--make any exceptions to her Order in Council, and we'll have
+to mess up that steamer's title and nativity to save John Bull's social
+standing. We must make a bluff at deceiving him. If we can show some
+sort of legal transfer to another flag J. B. can play blindman's buff
+with dignity and honor; otherwise nix!"
+
+Cappy Ricks' eyes sought the ceiling.
+
+"What have I done to deserve this?" he demanded of an invisible
+Presence. "Why am I afflicted thus? Job had his boils; but you and I,
+Augustus, are covered with a financial rash, bleeding at every pore, and
+with no relief in sight."
+
+"I told you this was a tough one, Cappy. I've pondered the situation
+until my brain is addled like a last year's nest egg, and finally I've
+come to you as a last resort. If you can't cook up an airtight scheme,
+then there is no help; and I'm going to forget the _Bavarian_ and attend
+to some business more profitable and less debilitating."
+
+"There must be an out, Gus. It's too good a thing to abandon. Suppose
+you and the Consul go away and give me time to concentrate my thoughts
+on this problem. It's a holy terror; but--Well, I've seen dogs almost as
+sick as this one cured."
+
+"God bless you!" Mr. Redell murmured fervently. "Consul, let us depart
+and leave Mr. Ricks to himself. Call me up, Cappy, when you see a ray of
+light. Two heads are better than one, you know."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+
+When his visitors had gone Cappy Ricks gave orders that he was not to be
+disturbed on any pretext whatever. Then he locked himself in, swung his
+legs to the top of his desk, slid low in his chair until he rested on
+his spine, bowed his head on his breast and closed his eyes. The battle
+was on.
+
+One hour later J. Augustus Redell entered breathlessly in response to a
+telephonic invitation from Cappy.
+
+"Gus," the latter began, "am I right in assuming that you possess a
+reasonable amount of influence with that hair-trigger partner of yours,
+Live Wire Luiz?" Redell nodded. "And is Luiz absolutely trustworthy?
+Will he stay put and keep his mouth closed?"
+
+"He is my partner, Cappy. He's mercurial, but a gentleman. I'd trust him
+with my life, and I always trust him with my bank roll. He requires no
+watching."
+
+"Good! Gus, send Live Wire Luiz down to Guaymas and have him incorporate
+the North and South American Steamship Company there, under the
+extremely flexible and evershifting laws of the Republic of Mexico. Luiz
+is a Peruvian and speaks Spanish, and knows the Mexican temperament. He
+can easily procure three Mexicans to act as a dummy board of directors;
+his own name, of course, for obvious reasons, must never appear in
+connection with this company. A thousand dollars ought to cover this
+Mexican expense."
+
+"Consider that point attended to, Cappy."
+
+"Fine! Now then, when this corporate vehicle is in running order and has
+opened an office in Guaymas, Live Wire Luiz will write your company, The
+West Coast Trading Company, saying that his company has been referred to
+you by some mutual friends in Guaymas. Of course Luiz doesn't sign this
+letter. It is signed by the North and South American Steamship Company,
+per the dummy secretary or president. The letter goes on to say that
+the latter company is in the market for a steamer, the general
+specifications of which, singularly enough, fit the _Bavarian._ The
+vessel is to be used for transporting troops up and down the west coast
+of Mexico and for freighting munitions from Japan; and in a delicate
+way it might be hinted that the de facto Mexican Government is the
+real buyer. A commission of five per cent is offered you for buying the
+vessel for them, said commission to be split fifty-fifty with the North
+and South American Steamship Company; this being the Mexican way of
+doing business, as you know."
+
+"Consider that matter attended to also. I'll write the letter myself
+before Luiz starts for Guaymas, so I'll be certain the job will be done
+exactly right."
+
+"As soon as you receive this letter you get busy and wire the North
+and South American Steamship Company that you have just the vessel they
+want, price three hundred thousand dollars. Live Wire Luiz will then
+cause a reply to that telegram to be sent, advising you that his clients
+would not balk at paying half a million! That, of course, is hint enough
+for you. Right away you see the old Mexican graft sticking out, and
+you say to yourself, 'Why not?' And you do! You reply to that telegram,
+saying you erred when naming the price in your first telegram; that it
+is five hundred thousand instead of three. Then you come down to me and
+I hand you three hundred thousand dollars in currency; for in such a
+transaction as this, checks, with their indorsements, provide a trail
+that may prove embarrassing. You take that money and deposit it in
+escrow in any local bank against a bill of sale of the _Bavarian_ from
+Mrs. Koenitz to the North and South American Steamship Company, of
+Guaymas, Mexico. Before doing so, however, have Mrs. Koenitz place
+the vessel under Mexican registry. She can do that through the Mexican
+Consul for the de facto government; and when the bill of sale is turned
+over to you, record it promptly with the Mexican Consul. Later you will
+record it in Mexico.
+
+"The vessel is now the property of the North and South American
+Steamship Company; and the North and South American Steamship Company
+is the property of Cappy Ricks and the West Coast Trading Company, per
+Senor Felipe Luiz Almeida. But we must never admit this. To have the
+North and South American Steamship Company transfer the vessel to us
+would be very coarse work indeed; so we must avoid that."
+
+"How?"
+
+"I'll get to that presently. The steamer is now in our possession, and
+you will already have notified her German skipper and crew to hunt a
+new residence. You will then put an American skipper in charge and ship
+American engineers and a crew of parrakeets; and on the very day the
+sale is consummated, just before the customhouse closes, have the
+skipper clear the vessel for Guaymas and put to sea that night. Since
+she carries no cargo the collector of the port will not stop you; the
+risk of going to sea is all our own--if we care to take it.
+
+"The next day the newspaper boys will be hot on the trail. An interned
+German merchantman has suddenly transferred to Mexican registry and put
+to sea! Now! Inquiry at the customhouse and at the Mexican consulate
+shows that the vessel has been sold, and the trail leads straight to the
+office of the West Coast Trading Company. You are interviewed--and
+say nothing; and that day, when I appear on 'Change, these baffled
+journalists drive me into a corner and ask me what I think about it. And
+I'll tell them it's just another case of the lowly Mexican peon being
+hornswoggled by the foxy Americano. The Mexicans wanted a ship and asked
+the American to buy one for them. He did--only he forgot to tell them
+she was a German. She was such a good buy they snapped her up without
+asking questions, though in all probability the poor devils had no
+knowledge of Kaiser Wilhelm's edict that no German ships shall be sold
+without the consent of the German Government. I will say that it looks
+to me as if the ancient rule of _caveat emptor_ applied, and that the
+Mexicans are stung and have no comeback. Then, again, it may be a shrewd
+German trick to put something over.
+
+"Well, they make a snorting story out of what I give them; the frau's
+friends read it and think she's done something smart. Nobody feels
+sorry for a Mexican. Next morning you come out with a blast of righteous
+indignation and admit that you cannot or will not deny that the vessel
+was sold to parties representing the de facto Mexican Government. You
+deny, however, that you sold them a pig in a poke; and the papers print
+a copy of your letter to the North and South American Steamship Company
+specifically advising them that the vessel was a German and liable to
+prove an embarrassment. This, of course, clears you, and the blame for
+the graft is placed where it belongs--on the shoulders of the North and
+South American Steamship Company, which has deliberately stung the de
+facto government!"
+
+"Cappy," said J. Augustus Redell admiringly, "you're immense!"
+
+"I accept the nomination. Upon her arrival in Guaymas the _Bavarian's_
+name is changed to _La Golondrina_, or _Sobre las Olas_, or _Manana_, or
+_Poco Tiempo_--whatever's right. I think we may safely gamble that she
+will arrive in Guaymas in the light of what the British Consul told us;
+and, in view of her departure unannounced, no British warship on the
+West Coast can get so far north as Guaymas in time to intercept her.
+
+"Well, having changed her name, she picks up a general cargo and comes
+back to San Francisco, where she goes on dry dock and is cleaned and
+painted, has her gear overhauled, fills up with fuel oil and stores,
+and--but that's enough. Now comes the blow-off.
+
+"Strange to relate, you haven't received a cent of that five-per-cent
+commission due you from the North and South American Steamship Company
+for buying the _Bavarian_ for them. The issue is in dispute. They claim
+you are not entitled to any commission, because you stung them with a
+German vessel; and you claim you told them she was a German, but that
+they needed her so badly they would take a chance. Also, the fact that
+she went to sea that time in such a hurry, and forgot to pay for her
+fuel oil and stores, looks rather suspicious; so, when the vessel comes
+off dry dock, with about ten thousand dollars' worth of bills against
+her, you decide to protect your claim for the commission--and, by the
+Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, Gus, you libel her! The news breaks into the
+papers, and next day every creditor of the ship files a libel on her,
+also, to protect his claim. Gus, she'll have so many plasters on her
+she'll look like a German coming home from the war."
+
+J. Augustus Redell leaped from his chair and picked little Cappy Ricks
+up in his arms and hugged him.
+
+"Oh, Cappy! Cappy!" he yelled. "You're the shadow of a rock in a weary
+land--a cup of cool water in the suburbs of hell!"
+
+"Are you game?" Cappy gurgled.
+
+"Does a cat eat liver? Cappy, you've solved the problem! Naturally
+the North and South American Steamship Company does not directly or
+indirectly make any attempt to lift these libels and get the vessel to
+sea. Why? I'll tell you--or, rather, I'll tell the newspaper boys and
+they'll tell everybody. It will appear that as soon as the Mexican
+Consul here got an inkling of the apparent plan of the North and South
+American Steamship Company, of Guaymas, to sting Don Venustiano Carranza
+by slipping him a steamer with a clouded title, he must have wired Don
+Venustiano to round up the directors of the said company and give them
+the _ley fuga_. Fortunately for these culprits, however, they got next
+in time to get out from under. Mounting swift steeds, the entire board
+of directors fled north and east, never pausing until they had joined
+Pancho Villa; and we learn from some Border gossips that all three
+subsequently were killed in action. But, before leaving Guaymas, they
+left their tangled steamship affairs in the hands of their attorney--"
+
+"Nothing doing, Gus! They left their tangled steamship affairs in the
+hands of my attorney, and they gave him an absolute, ironclad, airtight
+power of attorney to sell the ship, receive and receipt for all money
+due the company, and so on, and so on, ad libitum, ad infinitum; said
+power of attorney being nonrevocable for five years."
+
+"Great stuff! In due course the libelants sue in the United States
+District Court; your attorney appears for the defendants and confesses
+judgment, but pleads for a ten-day stay of execution until he can raise
+a mortgage on the vessel. But, strange to relate, the ten-day stay
+expires and the judgments against the steamer are not paid; so the judge
+of the United States District Court orders the steamer sold at public
+auction on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange to the highest bidder,
+to satisfy the claims of the creditors. Thirty days later the United
+States Marshal conducts the sale, and a gentleman named Cappy Ricks buys
+her in. The United States Marshal gives the said Ricks a bill of sale
+for her, which the said Ricks thereupon records in the United States
+Customhouse, and--"
+
+"_Und Hoch der Kaiser! Und Hoch der_ John J. Bull! We've finally got
+that clear American title we've been looking for. It makes no difference
+what the nationality of a vessel is; the minute she enters the
+territorial waters of the United States of America she is amenable to
+the laws of the United States of America, one of which reads thusly:
+'Thou shalt pay thy bills; and if thou dost not, then _poco tiempo_ thou
+shalt be made to pay them, even unto the seizure and sale of thy ship.'
+And with the purchase of that ship, under an order of sale issued by
+the United States District Court, she becomes a United States ship; we
+register her as such; and the United States simply has to stand back
+of the bill of sale it gave us. Germany knows that; England knows it;
+Austria knows it; and from the jackstaff of the late _Bavarian_, now
+renamed the _Alden M. Peasley_, in honor of my first grandson, there
+floats--"
+
+J. Augustus Redell raised his index finger, enjoining silence:
+
+"Now then! One, two, three! Down, left, up!"
+
+     _"O-ho, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
+         What so-ho pro-houdly we hailed at the twilight's last
+            gleaming?"_
+
+Cappy Ricks sprang to attention. Presently, through the partition, his
+cracked old voice reached Mr. Skinner:
+
+
+     _"Then conquer we must, when our cause is so just;
+         And this be our motto: 'May we nev-er go bust!'"_
+
+"What's doing here?" Mr. Skinner demanded, banging at the door, which
+was locked.
+
+"Go way back and sit down!" Cappy shrilled. "I'll show you and Matt
+Peasley where to head in, yet--see if I don't!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+
+Cappy Ricks and J. Augustus Redell arrived at the Merchants' Exchange
+promptly at one o'clock on the date of the sale of the S. S. _General
+Carranza,_ as the _Bavarian_ was now called. Just inside the door they
+paused and looked at each other.
+
+"Whe-e-e-ew!" murmured Cappy Ricks. "All the shipping men in the world
+are here to bid on our property, Gus."
+
+Mr. Redell whistled softly. "This," he said, "will be some auction!"
+
+Cappy chuckled.
+
+"There is only one thing that a shipping man in this country has more
+respect for than an Order in Council--and that is an Order in the United
+States District Court!"
+
+"Naturally. It's backed up by our army and navy."
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, somebody's sporting blood is going to be
+tested today; and something tells, me, Augustus, my dear young friend,
+that it's going to be Matt Peasley's."
+
+"What makes you think so, Cappy?"
+
+Again Cappy chuckled.
+
+"Having used German methods to bring about this auction sale," he
+confessed, "I concluded to steal a little more of this Teutonic stuff;
+so I established a system of espionage in Skinner's office and another
+in Matt Peasley's. Gus, I got a lot of low-down information on those two
+young pups; they're trying to slip something over on the old dog."
+
+"Well, they'll never teach him any new tricks, Cappy."
+
+"You know it! I observe that, as usual, Jim Searles will conduct the
+auction. He's climbing up on the block now, and, by the Toenails of
+Moses, Matt Peasley is on the job! Look, Gus! You can see his black head
+sticking up out of the heart of the riot."
+
+As Cappy and Redell joined the crowd Jim Searles, by acclamation the
+auctioneer of the Port of San Francisco, rapped smartly with his little
+gavel, and a tense silence settled over the crowd.
+
+"This," Mr. Searles announced, "will be a fight to a finish, winner take
+all. In accordance with an order of the United States District Court I
+am about to sell, at public auction, to the highest bidder, the Mexican
+Steamship _General Carranza_, ex-German Steamship _Bavarian_, to satisfy
+the following judgments: Mr. J. Augustus Redell--"
+
+"Cut it out!" roared Matt Peasley. "We've all read the list of
+creditors, and you're only gumming up the game. Come down to business
+Jim."
+
+"Good boy, Peasley! Sure! Cut it out, Jim! Get busy!" A dozen voices
+seconded Captain Matt Peasley's motion and Jim Searles rapped for order.
+
+"How much am I offered?" he cried.
+
+"One million dollars!" roared Matt Peasley.
+
+On the fringe of the eager crowd Cappy Ricks leaned up against his
+friend Redell and commenced to laugh.
+
+"The young scoundrel!" he chortled. "He never said a word to me about
+this auction; he was afraid I'd butt in and block his purchase; so, for
+his impudence, I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget. Bid, Gus! Bet
+'em as high as a hound's back."
+
+"Captain Matt Peasley, representing the Blue Star Navigation Company,
+bids one million dollars. Chicken feed! Won't some real sport please
+tilt the ante?" Jim Searles pleaded. "Don't waste my time, gentlemen.
+It's valuable. Let's get this thing over and go back to our offices."
+
+"One million five hundred thousand!" called J. Augustus Redell.
+
+"I called for a sport and drew a piker," Jim Searles retorted. "Mr. J.
+Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, bids a million and a
+half."
+
+Young Dalton Mann, representing the Pacific Mail Steamship Company,
+raised his hand and snapped his fingers at the auctioneer.
+
+"And a hundred thousand!" he shouted.
+
+"And a hundred thousand!" Matt Peasley retorted.
+
+"And fifty thousand!" Mann flung back at him.
+
+Matt Peasley eyed his antagonist belligerently.
+
+"That's doing very well for a young fellow," Searles complimented the
+last bidder. "Skipper Peasley, are you going to let this landlubber
+outgame you? He has bid a million and three-quarters. Think of the
+present high freight rates and speak up, or remain forever silent."
+
+The bidding had so suddenly and by such prodigious bounds reached the
+elimination point that every piker present was afraid to open his mouth
+in the presence of these plungers. Matt Peasley licked his lips and
+glanced round rather helplessly. He knew he had about reached the limit
+of his bidding, but he suspected that Mann had reached his also.
+
+"And ten thousand!" he shouted desperately.
+
+"Cheap stuff! Cheap stuff!" the crowd jeered good-naturedly.
+
+Cappy Ricks nudged J. Augustus Redell as Mann waved his hand in token of
+surrender. "One million seven hundred and sixty thousand I am offered,"
+the auctioneer intoned. "Any further bids?" He waited a full minute;
+then resorted to three minutes of cajolery, but in vain. There were no
+more bids.
+
+Jim Searles raised his hammer.
+
+"Going--once!" he called--and waited. "Going--twice!" Another pause.
+"Going--"
+
+"Two million dollars!" cried J. Augustus Redell; and a sigh went up from
+the excited onlookers.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Redell is a sport, after all! Two million, flat!" Searles
+looked down on Matt Peasley. "Die, dog, or eat the meat ax!" he warned
+the unhappy young man.
+
+"Let him have her," Matt growled; and, very red of face, he commenced to
+shoulder his way through the crowd.
+
+"Beat it, Cappy; he's coming!" Redell warned the president emeritus.
+
+Cappy Ricks, dodging round the flank of the crowd, fled through the side
+entrance of the Merchants' Exchange; and he was tranquilly smoking a
+cigar in his private office when Matt Peasley dropped in on him an hour
+later. Cappy eyed him coldly.
+
+"Is Skinner back from luncheon?" he demanded. Matt nodded. "Tell him to
+come in here. I want to see him," Cappy continued ominously. "And you
+might stick round yourself."
+
+Mr. Skinner made his appearance.
+
+[Illustration: "Two million dollars'" cried J Augustus Redell.]
+
+"Close the door," Cappy commanded.
+
+Mr. Skinner looked a little startled and surprised, but promptly closed
+the door.
+
+"You wanted to see me, Mr. Ricks?" he queried.
+
+Cappy Ricks edged forward until he was seated on the extreme edge of his
+chair. Then he rested a hand on each knee, bent his head, and glared at
+the unhappy Skinner over the rims of his glasses. After thirty seconds
+of this scrutiny he turned to his son-in-law.
+
+"Well," he said, "I hear you've been attending an auction sale and
+making a star-spangled monkey of yourself bidding a million seven
+hundred and sixty thousand dollars on that Mexican steamer. Matt, have
+you taken leave of your senses?"
+
+"No, sir--not quite; but Gus Redell has. He bought her in for two
+million dollars. Of course he was acting for somebody else, because
+every cent he has is working overtime in the West Coast Trading
+Company."
+
+"Oh!" Cappy murmured. "Then you didn't get her, after all?"
+
+"No, sir! So perhaps you'd better not holler until you're hit." Matt
+sighed. "By Neptune," he declared, "I'd give a cooky to know the name of
+the crazy man who paid two million dollars for that steamer!"
+
+"Behold the lunatic, Matt! Grandpa Ricks, in his second childhood! Gus
+Redell was bidding for me, sonny."
+
+Matt Peasley sat down rather limply and stared at the president
+emeritus.
+
+"Cappy," he said presently, "you sent a boy to do a man's work. I had
+the boat bought for a million seven hundred and sixty thousand! For
+heaven's sake, why didn't you tell me you wanted her? And I would have
+laid off. For the love of heaven, why did you go bidding against me?"
+
+"Why didn't you tell me you wanted her, you big simp?" Cappy retorted.
+"You never said a word to me; and naturally Redell thought you were
+acting for somebody else. He had orders from me to get her and damn the
+cost--and he fulfilled his orders."
+
+"A comedy of errors, truly!" Mr. Skinner observed witheringly.
+
+Matt Peasley raised his huge arms and clenched his great fists in agony.
+
+"Oh, Cappy! Cappy!" he pleaded. "Won't you please retire? You're just
+raising hell with the organization!"
+
+"All right, Matt; I'll retire. But, before I do, I'm going to give
+Skinner a piece of my mind. Skinner, what the devil do you mean by going
+up to the Marine National Bank and borrowing a million dollars on the
+credit of the Ricks Lumber Company? I admit I have given you entire
+charge of the lumber end, and you were quite within your rights when
+you negotiated the loan and signed the note as president; but how did it
+happen that you didn't consult with the old man, if only as a matter of
+common courtesy?"
+
+"I-I-that is, I-well, I didn't mean to be discourteous, Mr. Ricks. Oh, I
+wouldn't have you think, sir--"
+
+"No; you'd have me be a dummy if you could. Why, you almost put the
+skids under me; because, when I went up to the Marine National to make a
+little personal loan in a spirit of preparedness, I discovered that the
+loan you had been given on my assets had jazzed my personal credit all
+to glory! I used to be able to borrow a million dollars on my bare note;
+but I'll be shot if they didn't make me dig up a lot of collateral this
+time! Skinner, I wouldn't have thought that of you. After trusting you
+as I have done for a quarter of a century, to find you giving me the
+double-cross just about breaks my heart. Great Godfrey, Skinner,
+how could you be so false to me? I expect that sort of thing from
+Matt--those one loves the best always swat one; but from you--Skinner,
+I don't know what prevents me from demanding your resignation here and
+now, unless it be because of your previous splendid character and loyal
+service."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks, Mr. Ricks!" Poor Skinner held up his hands appealingly
+and commenced to weep. "Please do not think ill of me. I swear--"
+
+"You loaned the Ricks Lumber Logging Company's million dollars to Matt
+Peasley to help buy that steamer for the Blue Star Navigation Company;
+and he, the son of a pirate, went to work and borrowed it from you,
+well knowing he had no business to do so. What are you paying the Marine
+National for that money?"
+
+"Five per cent," Skinner sniffled, for his heart was broken.
+
+"What are you soaking the Blue Star Navigation Company for it?"
+
+"Six," Skinner confessed miserably.
+
+"That's all right, Skinner, my boy. Cheer up! I forgive you. That little
+profit of one per cent saves your bacon, boy. I guess there's some good
+left in you still; and I'm happy to have this evidence that, though I
+own both companies, you have not forgotten you are responsible for the
+profit-and-loss account of one of them, and Matt Peasley for the other.
+You did quite right to claim that one per cent jerk from Matt. Business
+is business!"
+
+"Yes, you bet it is!" Matt Peasley struck in. "And I want you to lay
+off on Skinner, because what he did was done in fear and trembling, and
+under duress. We were both afraid you'd block the purchase; so we agreed
+to keep our plans secret from you, because--Well, somehow I did want
+that bully big boat the very worst way."
+
+"And that's exactly the way you set about getting her, Matthew. However,
+you're young--you don't know any better; so I forgive you. Of course
+I realized you wanted, that steamer, boy. I knew your heart was set on
+seeing our house flag floating from her mainstruck; so I--Well, I just
+thought I'd get her for you, to sort of square myself for those two
+bonehead plays I pulled earlier in the year."
+
+"Oh, but you shouldn't have paid two millions for her, Cappy! Business
+is one thing and sentiment is another."
+
+"Why, I didn't pay any such price for her! Originally I bought her, as
+a German, for three hundred thousand dollars; in addition to that I've
+spent about ten thousand dollars improving her, and maybe five thousand
+more fussing up the trail of my operations so no smart secret-service
+operative could come round and hang something on me." He reached into
+his coat pocket and drew forth the United States Marshal's bill of sale.
+"Here, sonny," he announced, "is your Uncle Sam's certificate of title.
+Hustle up to the customhouse and get it recorded; then make out a bill
+of sale for a one-third interest to the West Coast Trading Company and
+record that also. Then change her name to _Alden M. Peasley_, in honor
+of your first-born, and put her under these two flags."
+
+He jerked open a drawer in the desk and brought forth a bright new
+edition of Old Glory, followed by the familiar white muslin burgee with
+the blue star.
+
+"Skinner!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"The United States Marshal has paid all the debts of the _Alden M.
+Peasley_, and this afternoon he'll send his check for the proceeds of
+the sale still remaining in his hands to my lawyer, who holds a most
+ungodly power of attorney from that dummy Guaymas corporation Live Wire
+Luiz organized to buy the ship for us. Our attorney will cash that check
+and send the cash down to you. Please bank it to my credit and take up
+that note I gave the Marine National; then get the securities I hocked
+and tuck them back in my safe-deposit vault. As for the interest at five
+per cent, which the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company will have to pay on
+that million you borrowed to help Matt Peasley hornswoggle father, you
+just charge that to your personal account as a penance for your sins. As
+for the six per cent you pay the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company for
+the money loaned your Blue Star Navigation Company, Matt Peasley, just
+charge that to your personal account as a penance for your sins."
+
+Both culprits nodded dazedly.
+
+"Now," Cappy continued, "I'll tell you something else: The _Alden M.
+Peasley_ belongs to the West Coast Trading Company and Alden P. Ricks;
+they own one-third for bringing the deal to my attention and furnishing
+some labor, and I own two-thirds, or the lion's share, for doing a
+lion's work--to wit, putting up the cash and promoting the deal to a
+clean title. Consequently, though you two boys own a nice little block
+of stock in the Blue Star Navigation Company, you don't own a red cent
+in the _Alden M. Peasley_, because she doesn't belong to the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, but to the president emeritus thereof. However, as
+I am about to retire for keeps this time, I'll tell you what I purpose
+doing with my two-thirds of the _Alden M. Peasley_: Skinner, my dear
+boy, I kidded you into tears. Bless you, boy, it broke your heart when
+you thought your old boss figured you'd quit being Faithful Fido,
+didn't it? Skinner, loyalty like yours is very, very precious; and your
+affection is--er--Skinner, you human icicle, you can't bluff me! I'm on
+to you, young feller! Matt, you prepare a deed of gift for one-half of
+my two-thirds interest to Skinner, and take the other half for yourself;
+and when the _Alden M. Peasley_ has earned what I put into her, credit
+my account with it. After that, you and Skinner and Gus Redell and Live
+Wire Luiz can collect the dividends."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks! This is too much," Skinner began.
+
+"Tut, tut, sir! Not a peep out of you, sir! How dare you argue with me?
+Now just one word more before you fellers go: The next time you boys go
+bidding on a ship at auction, take a leaf out of Cappy Ricks' book and
+bid against yourself! You can always scare the other fellows off that
+way; the sky is the limit--and you're bound to get your money back. So
+you should _Ish ka bibble_.
+
+"Now you two young freshies go back to your desks and try to learn
+humility. Thus endeth the first lesson, my children."
+
+Matt Peasley came close to Cappy and put his big arm round the little
+old man.
+
+"Cappy," he whispered, "please don't retire!"
+
+"All right, son," Cappy answered; "but get that infernal cry-baby,
+Skinner, out of my office. He's breaking my heart."
+
+If J. Augustus Redell had been content to sue for peace following his
+deal with Cappy in Australian wheat, all would have been well for that
+young man. Alas! As we have already stated, he was young--and there
+is an old saying to the effect that youth must be served. J. Augustus
+Redell, like Oliver Twist, desired more. His triumph over Cappy in the
+wheat deal merely whetted his desire for more of the Ricks blood, and
+in the end the ingenious rascal evolved a plan for making Cappy the
+laughing stock of the Bilgewater Club for a month of Sundays.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+
+MONSIEUR LE CAPITAINE RICKS
+
+Cappy Ricks entered his office at the unheard-of hour of eight-thirty.
+On his way to his sanctum at the end of the long suite of offices Cappy
+paused in the lair of Mr. Skinner, who looked up, amazed.
+
+"Hello!" he saluted the president emeritus. "What brings you down on the
+job so early this morning, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"I've got a hen on," Cappy replied briskly. He glanced at Skinner and
+rubbed his hands together. "Skinner, my dear boy," he continued, "this
+is a one-horse concern."
+
+"Three sawmills with a combined output of a million feet a day on a
+ten-hour shift--not to mention a billion feet of stumpage--isn't my idea
+of a one-horse concern," Mr. Skinner retorted with some asperity.
+
+"Tut, tut, Skinner! I'm not referring to the lumber end at all; so don't
+get touchy. I'm referring to the Blue Star Navigation Company. It's a
+dinky proposition.
+
+"Forty-two vessels--windjammers, steam schooners and foreign-going
+freighters--" began Mr. Skinner; but Cappy cut him short:
+
+"Foreign-going grandmothers! We've got the _Narcissus_ and the
+_Tillicum_."
+
+"How about my boat--the _John P. Skinner?_"
+
+"Oh, yes! That one we scraped up off the bottom of Papeete Harbor,"
+Cappy answered maliciously. "Well, that makes three; and really the
+_Skinner_ and the _Narcissus_ are the only vessels built to go foreign.
+Remember, Skinner, we built the _Tillicum_, for the coast-wise lumber
+trade, even though she's so big our competitors thought when we launched
+her we were crazy to build such a whale for that trade."
+
+"Well, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"We ought to have more big bottoms, Skinner. We'll have hell-cracking
+freight rates during the war and for a long time thereafter--and here we
+sit round like a lot of dubs, too conservative to help ourselves to the
+gravy. Why, you and Matt Peasley ought to be knitting socks in an old
+ladies' home, for all the progressiveness you're displaying."
+
+"I am not in charge of the shipping end, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"No; but you've got a tongue in your head, haven't you? You were
+practically in charge of the Blue Star for more than six months--during
+the entire period Matt was at sea in the _Retriever_ and we thought he
+was a goner. Why, dog-gone you, Skinner, even when you thought Matt was
+dead you didn't suggest increasing the fleet. I'm surprised, Skinner, my
+boy, that in my old age, after gathering a lot of young fellows round me
+to carry on the business, I've still got to be the bell mare!"
+
+Mr. Skinner had nothing to say to this; if he had it is doubtful whether
+he would have said it, for he had been too long with Cappy Ricks not
+to know the signs when the old gentleman took the bit in his teeth and
+declared for a new deal.
+
+"I'm going into my office to do some tall thinking, Skinner," Cappy
+continued. "Remember! No visitors until I've threshed this whole
+business out to my satisfaction. I'm not in to anybody."
+
+Cappy retired to his office, sat down on his spine in his upholstered
+swivel chair, swung his thin old shanks to the top of his desk, bowed
+his head on his breast, and closed his eyes. Scarcely had he done so
+when the door opened and Matt Peasley thrust his head in.
+
+"Well, Matt?" Cappy queried without opening his eyes.
+
+"I have an offer of forty thousand dollars for our old bark _Altair_,
+Cappy. What do you think we ought to do?"
+
+"Take it!" Cappy shrilled. "You jibbering jackdaw! Grab it! She's been
+a failure since the day I built her; never balanced, always burying her
+nose in the seas, and drowning a sailor about once a year. If we keep
+that ship much longer she'll sail herself under some day and we'll be
+out the forty thousand. _Altair!_ Fancy name! Skinner got it out of Ben
+Hur. He'd been in the shipping game ten years then and hadn't learned
+that was the name of a star! We should have called her the _Water
+Spaniel_. Sell her, Matt, and we'll put the money into a steamer that
+can run foreign."
+
+"If you can tell me where we can buy, even at three times her intrinsic
+value, a steamer that will run foreign, I'm willing to consider selling
+the _Altair_. Just at present she's earning big dividends; and until we
+can find a place to invest her selling price, the money will earn six
+per cent instead of sixty, as at present."
+
+"Clear out and let me think!" Cappy commanded, and Matt Peasley retired
+to Mr. Skinner's office.
+
+"Have you noticed the old gentleman lately?" he inquired of Skinner.
+"Ever since his grandson arrived grandpa has been paying attention to
+business."
+
+"He's dissatisfied with his own and our efforts thus far. He thinks he's
+been a piker and that you and I are his first-assistant pikers. He has
+ships on the brain."
+
+"He's getting pretty cocky," Matt agreed; "but, at that, I guess he has
+a license to be."
+
+"I've been with him twenty-six--yes, twenty-seven--years; and I know
+him, Matt. He's cooking up something prodigious--and it will soon be
+done."
+
+The door of Cappy's office opened and Cappy stood in the entrance.
+
+"Skinner," he ordered, "get me a letter of credit for about twenty
+thousand dollars. I'm going travelling."
+
+"Where?" Matt and Skinner queried in chorus.
+
+"To Europe."
+
+"You're not!" Matt Peasley declared. "You're liable to be torpedoed en
+route."
+
+"I know, but then, too, I'm liable not to be; and if I am, why, I'm an
+old man, and I'll only be cheating the devil by a few years or a few
+months. Come in here, you two dead ones."
+
+They followed him into his office.
+
+"We need some steamers," Cappy announced. "Every shipyard in the United
+States that could build the kind of steamer we want is full up with
+contracts for the next three years; so I'm going to Norway or Sweden
+or Denmark, or some non-belligerent European country, and see whether I
+can't place some contracts there for a couple of real freighters. Then,
+too, I may be able to pick up good vessels over there at a reasonable
+price. Under the Emergency Shipping Act we can get them provisional
+American registry--and that's all we need. Before a great while Uncle
+Sam is going to turn his antiquated shipping laws inside out, and any
+foreign-built boats we may acquire now will be given the right to run in
+the coastwise trade also."
+
+"See here, Cappy," Matt reminded the old man; "you're retired and I'm
+in charge of the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation Company. I don't
+want you working yourself to death."
+
+"You mean you don't want me butting in. Nonsense! What's the use of
+having a grandson if a fellow doesn't hustle up something for the boy to
+sharpen his teeth on when he grows up? Here I've been living from day to
+day, just marking time on the road to eternity and figuring life wasn't
+worth while because the stock was going to die out with me. Up until
+recently I was content with a little old one-horse business; but now, by
+the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, boy, we've got to get out and shake a leg!
+Freighters! That's what we want. Big, well-decked tramps, flying the
+Stars and Stripes in every port on earth. Why, what kind of a nation are
+we getting to be, anyway? We're a passel of mollycoddles, asleep on the
+job. We haven't half enough ships to coal our navy. In the event of war
+it would take us a week to dig up ships enough to transport the New York
+Police Department. I tell you, Matt, when I'm gone you'll have to have
+something for that grandson of mine to do or he'll grow up into one of
+these idle-rich, ne'er-do-well, two-for-a-quarter dudes. You bet I've
+been doing a deal of thinking lately. We can't send that boy to college,
+and spoil him before he's twenty-five. We'll run that young man through
+high school; just about that time he'll begin to get snobbish and we'll
+take that out of him by sending him to sea as a cadet on one of our own
+ships. We'll teach him democracy--that's what we'll teach him. When
+he's twenty-one he'll be a skipper like his forebears and you'll be only
+about forty-six. Good Lord! To think of you two young fellows running my
+Blue Star ships--and not enough ships to keep you busy! Preposterous! I
+can't consider--Well, Hankins, my dear boy, what's troubling you?"
+
+Mr. Hankins, the secretary, had entered.
+
+"I wanted to see Mr. Skinner a moment. I'll wait. Didn't know you were
+busy."
+
+And he started to retire. Cappy checked him: "Finish with Skinner,
+Hankins. He'll be in consultation here with Matt and me for an hour
+yet."
+
+"I just wanted to know, Mr. Skinner, whether all those cablegrams to
+Captain Landry, of the _Altair_, are to be charged to general expense,
+Captain Landry's personal account, or to the _Altair_."
+
+"It seems to me you should charge them to Captain Landry, Hankins,"
+Mr. Skinner spoke up. "It isn't ship's business and it isn't Blue Star
+business. If he wants this office to cable him every day about his
+family--"
+
+"Here! What's this you're talking about, Skinner?" Cappy interrupted.
+
+"When Captain Landry sailed for Callao his wife didn't accompany him--"
+
+"Lucky rascal! He told me he was expecting an heir."
+
+"And he's still expecting that heir."
+
+"Naturally," Mr. Hankins explained, "he's been anxious for news;
+and ever since his arrival in Callao he's cabled us every other
+day--latterly every day--asking whether the baby has been born, and
+whether it's a boy or a girl."
+
+"A very pardonable human curiosity, my boy. Proceed."
+
+"Unfortunately the baby appears to be held up on demurrage and I think
+we've spent at least fifty dollars cabling to Landry that the youngster
+has failed to report. I imagine the skipper has spent twice that sum
+inquiring for news--"
+
+"Of course! It's his first baby, isn't it? You must allow for human
+nature."
+
+"I thought we would--for the first half dozen cablegrams; but after it
+became a habit it appeared that Landry ought to pay for his fancies."
+
+"He should," Mr. Skinner declared firmly. "Charge the cablegrams to
+Landry."
+
+"Nothing doing!" piped Cappy. "Charge 'em to general expense. Dang you,
+Skinner, I despair of ever breaking you of that habit of operating on
+the cheap!"
+
+"Oh, very well, sir--only the expense is getting to be quite an item."
+
+"I'm just about to send him another cablegram," Mr. Hankins declared
+fretfully. "The _Altair_ is due to sail from Callao and the baby is
+still unborn; it will be two months old, at least, before the skipper
+gets any further news."
+
+"Let's see your cablegram," Cappy ordered, and Mr. Hankins passed
+it over. Cappy read it. "Holy suffering sailor!" he cried. "Why this
+concern isn't in the hands of a receiver is a mystery to me." He looked
+up at Mr. Hankins with blood in his eye. "Here you are, Hankins, trying
+to saddle a bill of expense on a poor, heartbroken, anxious, embryo
+parent-to-be. Knowing full well that he only makes a hundred and
+fifty dollars a month, you admit to an endeavor to stick him for fifty
+dollars' worth of cablegrams from this end, not to mention those from
+his end. If you had spent your time, sir, figuring out a way to cut down
+that cable expense, instead of discovering a rotten way to get rid of
+it--Why, look here! You can use your code book and save a couple of
+dollars."
+
+"Code book!" Mr. Hankins protested indignantly. "Why, who ever heard of
+a code book for cabling on baby business?"
+
+"Use your shipping code. Here; hand me that code book. There's bound
+to be something to fit the occasion--there always is. Hum-m-m! Ahem!
+Harumph-h-h! Let us see what we shall see under the head of cargoes;
+Loading! Discharging! Demurrage! Ahem! That won't do. He'd be liable to
+confuse it with the ship's business. Harumph-h-h! Arrivals. Now we have
+it. Landry has been asking of an expected arrival, hasn't he?" Cappy
+ran his index finger down the page. "Here you are, Hankins. Hum-m-m!
+Afilamos--meaning no new arrivals. Naturally Landry will say to himself:
+'Well, for heaven's sake, when will that child arrive?' We should
+enlighten him on that point."
+
+"We cannot."
+
+"Very well, then. Say so. Here you are. Affumicata--meaning: We cannot
+guarantee time of arrival. Hankins, have you talked with Mrs. Landry's
+physician in order to get the latest ringside reports?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What does he say?"
+
+"Well, he says he thinks it will be twins, in a couple of days at the
+most."
+
+"Good news! Here you are. Afilaba--meaning: Heavy arrivals expected
+shortly. Now then, Hankins, he'll want some news of his wife, won't he?
+How about her?"
+
+"She went to the hospital this morning."
+
+Cappy closed his eyes and pondered; then once more took up the code
+book. Followed a silence. Then:
+
+"Bully! He'll understand perfectly, being a sailor. Desdoble--meaning:
+Is now in dry dock. And, of course, Landry will want to know whether his
+wife is in any danger. Danger! Danger! Ships are sometimes in danger.
+When? When they're wrecked, of course. Let us look under the head of
+wrecks... No; nothing seems to fill the bill. Wreck, wrecked, worse,
+writ, write, wrong--ah, I have it! Wohlgemuth--meaning: There is nothing
+wrong." He looked up at Mr. Hankins. "Now there's the kind of cablegram
+to send--even on baby business. Those four code words translated mean:
+No new arrivals; heavy arrivals expected shortly; is now in dry dock;
+there is nothing wrong. Literally translated it means: Baby not born
+yet; twins expected shortly; your wife now in hospital; everything
+lovely! I suppose, Hankins, you have carbon copies of all these
+cablegrams you've been sending?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Code them all, so far as possible, and ascertain how much money you
+might have saved the Blue Star by the exercise of a little common sense;
+then charge the cablegrams, on the coded basis, to our general expense,
+and charge to your personal account the sum you might have saved by the
+exercise of the ingenuity and efficiency I have a right to expect of a
+man who draws down as fat a salary as you do."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+
+Mr. Hankins withdrew, greatly crestfallen, and the despot of the Blue
+Star office turned to his trusted lieutenants.
+
+"Well," he declared, "one after the other you have to come to the old
+man to be shown. I guess I've proved to you two boys this morning that
+I'm to be trusted with buying a few ships and letting contracts for a
+few more, haven't I?"
+
+"I don't like the idea of Cappy Ricks on a steamer that's likely to be
+torpedoed. I don't want you to go to Europe alone--"
+
+"I'm not going alone. Captain Mike Murphy, our new port captain, is
+going with me. I wouldn't think of buying a steamer unless that splendid
+fellow O.K.'d the hull. And Terry Reardon, our new port engineer, will
+accompany me also. Terry has to O.K. the engines. Between the three of
+us, it's going to take a smart trader to sell us any junk, I'm telling
+you!"
+
+"I ought to go with you," Matt suggested.
+
+"You have your work at home, attending to the fleet. It isn't much of a
+fleet, I'll admit; but such as it is it requires some attention. I'll be
+the chief scout of this organization and see whether I can't rustle
+up some major-league vessels from some of those bush-league European
+owners."
+
+"I've had a fine time getting good men to take their places in the
+_Narcissus_ since you promoted Mike and Terry in my absence!" Matt
+complained. "Mike and Terry know her well--and she's such a big brute to
+handle."
+
+"Where is the _Narcissus_, by the way?"
+
+"Loading nitrate at Tocopilla and Antofagasta, Chile. This is her last
+voyage under the old charter."
+
+"Got any new business in sight for her?"
+
+"I won't have the slightest difficulty getting another nitrate charter
+and at a rate double what she's been getting."
+
+"Every vessel taken off the nitrate run stiffens the freight rate in
+these days, when they have to have so much nitrate in the manufacture
+of war munitions," the astute Cappy declared. "If I were you, Matt,
+I'd find her a good outside cargo or two, and then slip her back in the
+nitrate business again. Freights may have advanced in the interim."
+
+"I have a mighty profitable cargo offered me this morning, Cappy. An
+agent of the British Government called on me and offered a whopping
+price for carrying a cargo of mules and horses from Galveston to Havre.
+I think I shall turn the proposition down. It's too dangerous, Cappy."
+
+"You mean we might have our ship blown up by a German submarine?"
+
+Matt nodded.
+
+"Well, we'd collect our freight in advance, wouldn't we? And the British
+Government will guarantee to reimburse us if the ship is lost, will it
+not? Well, then, where's the risk?"
+
+"There's the danger to the crew."
+
+"Any man that goes to sea knows he has to take a chance. Bet you Mike
+Murphy could take that cargo of livestock across and bring another cargo
+back. He's luckier than a cross-eyed coon. And another thing, Matt:
+If you accept that business we can kill two birds with one stone--yes,
+three--because Mike and Terry and I will cross over on the _Narcissus_
+and save the price of transportation from here to New York, and from New
+York to Liverpool. Then, while the _Narcissus_ is discharging and taking
+on another cargo, we'll go scouting for available steamers."
+
+"It might be done, though I hate to think of it Cappy. If we lose the
+vessel they'll pay us a million and a half for her, of course--and she
+cost us less than three hundred thousand a year ago. And, as you say,
+we'll collect the freight in advance. They're very anxious to get the
+_Narcissus_. She's a whopping big boat, and that's the kind of a vessel
+they need for a horse transport."
+
+"Yes; and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it will be a bully vacation,
+and a bully vacation is something I haven't had since the night of the
+big wind in Ireland. Moreover, I combine business with pleasure, which
+is always desirable; and, if that isn't excuse enough, I want to tell
+you it's cheaper to travel dead-head on our own boats than to pay for
+three round-trip tickets to Europe on a Cunard liner."
+
+"But suppose a German submarine--"
+
+"Matt, all my life I've played a quiet, safe, sane, conservative game.
+I've always longed for adventure and never had it. Why, just consider a
+moment what a tiresome thing life would be were it not for the
+prospect of death at any moment! That's all that keeps us hustling,
+my boy--trying to put over a winning run before the game is called on
+account of darkness. Hell's bells! Don't try to scare me with a sheet
+and the rattle of old bones. Suppose they do blow us up? We don't lose a
+dollar; in fact, we make money--and we can take to the boats, can't we?"
+
+"They only give you fifteen minutes--"
+
+"We'll have the boats swung overside, provisioned and ready, two days
+ahead."
+
+"But they don't care how far out to sea they leave you. I spent two
+weeks in an open boat once and I know you can't stand two days. The
+exposure--"
+
+"When we get down to Galveston," Cappy interrupted triumphantly, "I'll
+have Mike Murphy buy a nice, staunch little secondhand motor cruiser,
+thirty-eight or forty feet long, with plenty of power and comfortable
+living accommodations for half a dozen people. Mike will arrange for
+extra oil and gasoline tankage, and we'll swing this cruiser in on the
+main deck and let it rest there in a cradle, with the slings round it,
+ready to lift overside with the cargo derricks at a minute's notice.
+I'll be as snug in that little cruiser as a bug under a chip--and we'll
+tow the lifeboats. So that settles it--and if it doesn't I'd like to
+know who's the boss of this shebang, anyhow!"
+
+Mr. Skinner glanced covertly at Captain Matt Peasley and shook his head
+almost imperceptibly, as who should say: "Better give in to him, Matt.
+I know him longer than you do; he'll have his way if it kills him."
+And Matt took the hint, with the result that some six weeks later Cappy
+Ricks, accompanied by his faithful port captain and his equally faithful
+port engineer, cleared for Galveston aboard the Sunset Limited. And at
+Galveston began the only real vacation Cappy Ricks had ever had.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI
+
+
+To begin, there was the task of superintending the installation of the
+accommodations for the cargo of mules and horses. Cappy was particularly
+interested in the ventilating system below decks, for he was fond of
+horses and had resolved to deliver the cargo without the loss of a
+single animal. Of no mediocre turn of mind mechanically, he, assisted by
+Terry Reardon, made a few suggestions that the British veterinaries in
+charge were very glad to accept.
+
+The real enjoyment of the trip, however, Cappy found down at the
+breaking corrals where the horses were detraining. They were all young
+and full of life, and fully ninety per cent of them had only been
+halter-broken. In the lot was many an outlaw whose ancestors had run
+wild for generations in Nevada; and as the delivery contract specified
+that a horse to be accepted must be broken--God save the mark!--as
+Terence Reardon remarked after seeing one passed as broken, following
+five minutes of furious pitching and squealing--Cappy Ricks was one of
+the first at the corral and the last to leave. Perched on the topmost,
+rail, he piped encouragement to the lank, flat-bellied border busters
+who, a dozen times a day, risked life and limb at five dollars a bust.
+
+Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon, who had ridden more than one China Sea
+typhoon and West India hurricane, marvelled that men should take such
+risks for any amount of money. Privately they considered Cappy Ricks
+an accessory before the fact, inasmuch as Cappy hung up at least five
+hundred dollars in small prizes for the vaqueros. Whenever they had
+a "bad one" they could always induce Cappy to offer ten dollars for
+staying two minutes and five dollars a minute for each minute over the
+limit--which seldom reached two minutes. Also, Cappy was willing to
+furnish two silver dollars whenever some adventurer thought he could put
+a dollar between each leg and the saddle and have the dollars there when
+the horse surrendered. They ran in a couple of trained buckers on Cappy
+and depleted his bank roll considerably before he began to smell a rat.
+
+To these plainsmen, charged with the destinies of the mounts for the
+young British soldier, Cappy Ricks was known familiarly as Cap. Before
+the last of the horses had been passed as broken and hustled aboard the
+big _Narcissus_, Cappy knew each horse wrangler by his first name or
+nickname, and had learned the intricacies of many hitherto unheard-of
+games of chance that flourish along the Rio Grande. He was an expert
+at cooncan, and Pangingi fascinated him; then they taught him Mexican
+monte, and one worthless individual stole an ace out of the deck,
+whereupon all hands had a joyous hack at Cappy, who, when informed
+privately by his friend, Sam Daniels, foreman of the outfit, that he
+was in bad company and being skinned alive, went uptown and bought some
+specially constructed dice, which he introduced brazenly into a crap
+game, thereby more than catching even. He was the last man in the world
+a gang of wicked cowboys would suspect of guile; all of them, quite
+foolishly, thought he had more money than brains.
+
+Eventually, however, the _Narcissus_ was loaded, Cappy moved into the
+owner's suite, and his new-found friends bunked in a temporary deck
+house forward when they weren't busy below decks playing chambermaid to
+the cargo. And with Cappy's motor cruiser swung in the cradle, ready
+for launching from the main deck aft, the _Narcissus_ slipped out of
+Galveston and went snoring across the Gulf of Mexico, bound for Le
+Havre.
+
+Mike Murphy was not happy, however. He resented Cappy Ricks, who would
+persist in going below to inspect the cargo and in consequence smelled
+like a hostler. Moreover, Michael was the port captain of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company now and not the master of the ship; and the
+_Narcissus_ wasn't out of sight of land before Mike made the discovery
+that the boatswain of the ship was absolutely inefficient, that the cook
+was wasteful, that the first officer was too talkative, and the skipper
+too easy-going.
+
+And these conditions, on a ship he had once commanded, irked Murphy
+exceedingly. Terence Reardon was in much the same state of mind. Being
+port engineer, he investigated the engine room and found that his
+favorite monkey wrench had been lost; there were two leaky tubes in
+the main boiler; the ash hoist was out of kilter; his successor in the
+_Narcissus_ was carrying ten pounds of steam less than Terence used to
+carry; and there was something not quite right with the condenser.
+The engine room crew Terence characterized to Mike Murphy as a gang of
+"vagabones," and hinted darkly at sweeping changes when the ship should
+get back to the United States. Once he went so far as to state that he
+might have expected as much when, upon leaving the _Narcissus_ to become
+port engineer, he had given her to his old first assistant; since he had
+never known a first assistant, barring himself, to make a good chief!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII
+
+
+On the very day the _Narcissus_ left Galveston the German submersible
+V-l4 left her base at Zeebrugge, with oil and torpedoes sufficient to
+last her on an ordinary three weeks' cruise, and promptly headed for
+that section of the Atlantic where information and belief told her
+commander the hunting would be good. And it was--so good, in fact, that
+to the very great disgust of her crew she had just two torpedoes in
+stock when the man on watch at her periscope reported a large freight
+steamer to the west. Promptly the V-l4 submerged and proceeded on
+a course calculated to intercept the freighter, which presently was
+discovered to be the U.S.S. _Narcissus_.
+
+The captain of the V-l4 almost licked his chops. He had heard of the
+_Narcissus_. The neutrality laws of the United States had prevented him
+from hearing of her by wireless when she cleared from Galveston, but
+he had been on the lookout for her, just the same, ever since a Dutch
+steamer from New York, with an alert German chief mate, had touched at
+Copenhagen, from which point the dispatches that mate carried had
+gone underground straight to the office of the German Admiralty. The
+information anent the _Narcissus_ had been brief but illuminating:
+She had been chartered to carry horses for the British Government from
+Galveston to Le Havre, and the word to get her at all hazards had been
+passed to the submarine flotilla.
+
+Captain Emil Bechtel, of the V-l4, did not possess an Iron Cross of any
+nature whatsoever, and as he studied the oncoming _Narcissus_ through
+the periscope he reflected that this big brute of a boat would bring him
+one, provided he was lucky. He remembered he had but two torpedoes left,
+and under the circumstances he paused to consider.
+
+Clearly--since the _Narcissus_ was laden with horses and mules for the
+enemy she was carrying contraband--she must not escape. On the other
+hand, there had been a deal of unpleasantness of late because President
+Wilson had been protesting the sinking of vessels without warning--and
+the _Narcissus_ was a United States steamer. Consequently if he
+torpedoed her without warning the temperamental Kaiser might make of
+Captain Emil Bechtel what is colloquially known as the goat; whereas,
+on the other hand, should he conform to international law and place her
+crew in safety before sinking her, there was a chance that her wireless
+might summon a patrol boat to the vicinity--Bechtel had sighted one less
+than an hour before--and patrol boats had a miserable habit, when they
+sighted a periscope, of shooting it to pieces.
+
+Then, too, it was just possible that the perfidious English had mounted
+a couple of six-inch guns on her after getting to sea--and the German
+knew a six-inch shell, well-placed, would send his vessel to the bottom.
+Moreover, it was sunset; in half an hour it would be twilight; he had
+no knowledge of the speed of the _Narcissus_ and she might try to make a
+run for it, thus forcing him to come to the surface and shell her should
+he miss with his torpedoes. Further, if he attacked her and she escaped,
+there was an elderly gentleman with whiskers back in Berlin who would do
+things to him if the Kaiser didn't.
+
+There was, however, one course open to the German. To his way of
+thinking, during the exciting diplomatic tangle with the United States,
+he would be damned if he did and damned if he didn't; but if he did, and
+nobody could prove it, old Von Tirpitz would ask no questions.
+
+"I'll let her have it," Captain Emil Bechtel concluded; and he passed
+the word to get ready.
+
+A minute later Cappy Ricks, smoking his after-dinner cigar on the bridge
+of the Narcissus with her skipper and Mike Murphy, pointed far off the
+port bow.
+
+"There's a shark or a swordfish, or something, breaching," he said. "I
+can see his wake."
+
+Mike Murphy took a casual glance in the direction Cappy was pointing,
+while the master of the _Narcissus_ reached for his marine glasses and
+lazily put them to his eyes.
+
+"Shark be damned!" yelled Murphy. "It's a torpedo or I'm a Chinaman!
+Hard-a-starboard!"
+
+He leaped for the engine-room telegraph and jammed it over to Full Speed
+Astern; then dashed into the pilot house and commenced a furious ringing
+of the ship's bell, summoning the crew to boat drill, the while his
+anxious eye marked the swift progress of the white streak coming toward
+them. What wind there was happened fortunately to be on the vessel's
+port counter, and as the helmsman spun the wheel the big vessel fell off
+quickly and easily, while the rumble of her shaft, suddenly reversed,
+fairly shook the ship. To Cappy Ricks it seemed that the vessel must be
+brought up standing, like one of the broncos he had seen ridden with
+a Spanish bit; but a big ship under full headway is not stopped very
+abruptly, and the _Narcissus_ swept on, turning as she went in order to
+offer as little target as possible to the torpedo.
+
+"Will we make it, Mike?" Cappy Ricks queried in a very small, awed
+voice.
+
+Mike Murphy turned and found his owner at his elbow.
+
+"I hope it hits her forward," he replied. "That motor cruiser is cradled
+aft and we might save it. They never hailed us--ah-h-h, missed!"
+
+The torpedo flew by, missing the big blunt bow by less than three feet.
+
+"I guess they'll get us just the same," Mike Murphy murmured quietly;
+"but we're going down fighting."
+
+And, disregarding the master of the _Narcissus_, who was staring
+vacantly after the flying torpedo, he rang for Full Speed Ahead, and
+called down the speaking tube to the chief to hook her on for all he
+had; then, with his helm still hard-a-starboard, he swung the ship in
+as small a circle as possible and headed her at full speed back over the
+course so recently traveled by the torpedo.
+
+"That was a beautifully timed shot--that last one," he informed Cappy
+Ricks admiringly. "If we'd sighted it thirty seconds later--"
+
+"Where the devil are you going, man?" Cappy yelled frantically.
+
+"I'm going to give that fellow a surprise," Murphy growled. "He expected
+us to run for it after that first one missed--and I'm running for him!
+He may not get me with the next one if I come bows on--and I might ram
+him! I'll take a chance. Keep your eyes open for his periscope."
+
+Aboard the V-l4 Captain Emil Bechtel said nothing, but thought a great
+deal--when he saw that his first torpedo had missed its prey. He was
+in for it now; he had started something and he had to go through. And,
+anticipating that the _Narcissus_ would show him her heels and steer
+a zigzag course, he immediately launched his last torpedo as the horse
+transport lay quartering to him.
+
+To his disgust, however, the steamer, having avoided the first torpedo,
+did not run as he had anticipated. Instead, she continued to turn round
+on her heels, each revolution of her wheel lifting her out of the course
+of the second torpedo, since the submarine had fired slightly ahead of
+the vessel, knowing that if she continued for two minutes on the course
+he expected her to take she would steam fairly across the path of the
+huge missile. So he missed again--the torpedo slid under her stern--and
+here was that demon horse transport bearing down on him at full speed
+and with a bone in her teeth.
+
+"The jig is up," murmured Bechtel, and gave the order to submerge
+deeper, for he would not risk showing his periscope to the keen eyes on
+that bridge.
+
+For ten minutes he waited, while the submarine scuttled blindly out
+of the path of the onrushing transport; then, concluding that the
+_Narcissus_ had passed him, he came up and took a look round. He was
+right. A cable length astern and another off his port quarter the
+steamer was plunging over the darkening sea, and Captain Emil Bechtel
+knew he had her now; so promptly he came to the surface.
+
+Mike Murphy, glancing off his starboard quarter, saw her periscope come
+swiftly up; then her turret showed; then her turtle deck flashed for a
+moment on the surface, like a giant fish, before she rose higher and the
+water cascaded down her sides.
+
+Cappy Ricks' anxious face turned a delicate green; he glanced up at his
+bully port captain as if in that rugged personality alone could he hope
+for salvation. Murphy caught the glance, shook his head, walked over to
+the engine-room telegraph and set the handle over to stop.
+
+"No use, sir," he informed Cappy. "That Dutchman is out of torpedoes, so
+he's coming up to shell us. We'll heave to and save funeral expenses."
+He turned to the master of the _Narcissus_. "Captain, I'll stay on the
+bridge and conduct all negotiations with that fellow; get your mates,
+round up everybody and prepare to abandon the ship in a hurry. Get the
+motor cruiser overside first."
+
+As the captain hurried away, Terence Reardon came up on the bridge. The
+port engineer's gloomy visage portended tears, but through his narrowed
+lids Cappy Ricks saw not tears, but the light of murder. Terence did
+not speak, but thoughtfully puffed his pipe, and, with Murphy and Cappy
+Ricks, watched the booby hatch on the submarine's deck slide back and
+her long, slim, three-inch gun appear, like the tongue of a huge viper.
+
+Heads appeared round the breech of the gun; so Michael J. Murphy seized
+a megaphone and shouted:
+
+"_Nein! Nix!_" accompanying his words with wild pantomime that meant
+"Don't shoot!"
+
+Captain Emil Bechtel was vastly relieved. He was not an inhuman man,
+even if, on occasion, as has already been demonstrated, he could, for
+the sake of national expediency, sink a ship without warning. Having
+missed with both torpedoes, he could now, in the event of national
+complications, enter a vigorous denial of any affidavits alleging an
+attempted breach of international law, and his government would uphold
+him. This knowledge rendered him both cheerful and polite, as he hove to
+some hundred yards to starboard of the _Narcissus_ and informed Captain
+Michael J. Murphy that the latter had just fifteen minutes in which to
+save the ship's company; whereat Michael J. proved himself every inch a
+sailor, while Terence P. proved himself a marine engineer. If there was
+a word of opprobrium, mundane or nautical, which the port skipper didn't
+shout at that submarine commander, the port engineer supplied it. In
+all his life Cappy Ricks had never listened to such rich, racy, unctuous
+abuse; it lifted itself about the level of the commonplace and became a
+work of art. Cappy was horrified.
+
+"Boys! Boys!" he pleaded. "This is frightful!"
+
+"What do you expect from a German, sir?" Murphy demanded. "Frightfulness
+is his middle name."
+
+"I mean you two--and your language. Stop it! You'll contaminate me."
+
+"Well, sor," Terence Reardon replied philosophically, "I suppose there's
+small use cryin' over spilt milk--musha, what are they up to now?"
+
+"They're dragging a collapsible boat up from below," Mike Murphy
+declared. "That means they're going to board us, place bombs in the
+bilges, and sink us that way. They know blamed well we've wirelessed for
+help and a patrol has answered; so that--"
+
+"No profanity!" Cappy shrilled.
+
+"So he has decided he won't try to sink us by shell fire with such a
+small gun. It'll be dark in five minutes and he's afraid the flame of
+the discharge or the reports of the gun may guide the patrol boat here
+before he's finished his job. Oh, wirra, wirra!"
+
+Murphy's surmise proved to be correct, for he had scarcely finished
+speaking before the submarine commander hailed him and ordered him to
+let down his gangway. Terence P. Reardon's eyes flamed with the lust for
+battle.
+
+"Be the great gun av Athlone," he cried, "if they're comin' aboard sure
+we can get at them!"
+
+Murphy's rage vanished as suddenly as it had gripped him; he smiled at
+Terence affectionately, approvingly.
+
+"You with your monkey wrench, eh, Terry, my lad? And they with automatic
+pistols and wishful of an excuse to use them, not to mention the
+nitroglycerin and guncotton bombs they'll be carrying--a divilish bad
+thing to have kicking round in a free-for-all fight?" he queried.
+
+Terry's face showed his deep disappointment.
+
+"They'll see us all in the boats," Murphy continued; "then they'll go
+below, set the bombs, light a slow fuse to give them time to get back to
+the submarine--and then--"
+
+"With all these poor dumb beasts aboard?" Cappy Ricks quavered.
+"Horrible! Horrible! I could kill them for it."
+
+"I could kill them for a greater crime than that," his port captain
+reminded him. "Didn't they try twice to sink us without warning? Damn
+them! They're forty fathoms outside the law this minute."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII
+
+
+For the first time in his life Cappy Ricks was in financial and physical
+danger coincidently. Old he was, and a landlubber, for all his courtesy
+title; but in his veins there coursed the blood of a long line of
+fighting ancestors. It occurred to him now that in all his life he had
+never cried "Enough;" that always, when cornered and presumably beaten,
+he had gone into executive session with himself and, fox that he was,
+schemed a way out. In this supreme moment there came to him now the
+words of the gallant Lawrence: "Don't give up the ship!" They inspired
+him; his agile old brain, benumbed by the shock of the exciting events
+of the last quarter of an hour, threw off its paralysis; his little
+five-feet-four body thrilled with the impact of a sudden brilliant idea.
+
+"I have it!" he piped. "By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it might be done!
+Mike, the submarine lies to starboard. Tell the mate to lower the port
+gangway."
+
+Murphy ran out on the end of the bridge and bawled the order. Then he
+came back, and he and Terence and Cappy Ricks put their heads together
+while in brief, illuminating sentences Cappy Ricks unfolded the fruit of
+his genius.
+
+"Tell me," he pleaded when he had finished, "is that scheme
+practicable?"
+
+"It might be done, sir," Mike Murphy assented.
+
+"I'll thry anything the wanst," Terry Reardon almost barked.
+
+"It means some fighting--probably some killing."
+
+"Sorra wan av me'll feel broken-hearted at killin' the likes av that
+Dutchman," Terry answered. "Shtill, we'll be needin' some help, I'm
+thinkin'."
+
+"We'll get it, or I'm no judge of human nature. Mike, pass the word for
+Sam Daniels, the boss of muleteers and broncho busters. Sam used to be a
+Texas Ranger."
+
+Accordingly Sam Daniels was sent for and arrived on the jump.
+
+"Sam, my dear boy," said Cappy calmly, "I'm enlisting volunteers to
+raise hell with that submarine. They're going to put bombs in the bilges
+and blow up the ship."
+
+"Count me in, Cap," Sam Daniels replied laconically. "Want me to rustle
+up a couple of the boys?"
+
+"Yes, about three real ones--boys that are handy with a six-shooter."
+
+"I guess most of the boys from the border have their guns in their war
+bags. I'll go get them together."
+
+He did--in about three minutes; by which time the collapsible boat from
+the submarine had been launched and was pulling toward the _Narcissus_.
+While her master directed them to pull round to the port gangway, Sam
+Daniels slipped down unobserved into Number Three hatch, two of his
+horse wranglers disappeared with an equal lack of ostentation down the
+gangway into Number Two hatch, and a third man went forward and down
+Number One. The trap was set.
+
+A stout young lieutenant clad in soiled dungarees, his uniform cap
+alone denoting his rank, came briskly up the companion, followed by four
+jackies carrying the bombs. A fifth man remained in the boat, fending it
+away with a boat hook from the tall black side of the _Narcissus_.
+
+"Who commands here?" the German demanded in most excellent English.
+
+"I do," the master of the _Narcissus_ replied, and stepped a pace
+forward.
+
+"Then hurry and get your boats overside. We're going to bomb the ship,
+and if anybody remains aboard when those bombs explode it will be his
+fault, not ours."
+
+The motor cruiser had already been dropped overboard, and the
+life-boats, having been for two days swung out in the davits, were
+quickly filled and lowered away. As each boat pulled clear of the ship
+the man in charge of it was ordered by the submarine lieutenant to stay
+to port of the _Narcissus_, and to pull well clear of the ship before
+proceeding to pass the towing painters to the cruiser.
+
+"Are all your men off the ship?" the officer queried of the skipper as
+the latter entered the last boat and gave the order to lower away.
+
+"All off; I've accounted for all of them," was the answer.
+
+The German waited until the boat had slipped away in the gloom before
+turning to his command.
+
+"Proceed!" he said briefly; and, followed by his four men, he led the
+way down the cleated temporary gangway built diagonally down Number
+Three hatch to accommodate the horses when they had been led aboard.
+
+The better to facilitate their progress, Terence Reardon had turned on
+all the electric lights in the ship, and the detail proceeded quickly
+to the lower hold, where they set two bombs and piled double-compressed
+baled hay round them, with the fuse leading out from under the bales.
+In addition to blowing a hole in the ship they were taking the added
+precaution of setting her afire after the explosion.
+
+From the spot where the bombs were set a long alleyway, lined on each
+side with the rumps of horses, each neatly boxed in a stall just wide
+enough and long enough to inclose him firmly and hold him on his feet in
+the event of rough weather, led forward and aft to the bulkheads. And
+in one of these stalls, close up against the rump of a horse he could
+trust, Sam Daniels, the ex-Texas Ranger, crouched, with one eye round
+the corner of the stall, calmly watching the grim proceedings. Something
+told him that, having arranged the bombs in that hold, the enemy would
+not light the fuses until he had set similar bombs at the bottom of the
+other hatches; then, all being in readiness, a man would be sent into
+each hold to light the fuse, scurry on deck, descend to the waiting
+boat, and be pulled clear of danger before the fuses should burn down to
+the fulminating caps.
+
+So Daniels waited until the men were about to pick up the remaining
+bombs and ascend to the deck; whereupon he stepped quietly out into
+the alleyway, a long-barreled forty-five in his hand, and pussyfooted
+swiftly toward the Germans, whose backs were now turned toward him.
+Halfway down the alleyway, on one of the heavy six-by-six-inch uprights
+temporarily set in to support the weight of the hundred mules on the
+deck above, was the electric switch controlling the circuit in that
+hold--and Sam Daniels reached up and turned it down. Instantly the hold
+was in darkness; and then the horseman spoke:
+
+"Hey, you Dutchies! Stay right where you are! I want to have a little
+powwow with you before you go any farther."
+
+Having said this, the astute Mr. Daniels, out of a vast experience
+gained while fighting Mexicans and outlaws in the dark, promptly lay
+down. In case the enemy should become rattled and fire at the sound of
+his voice he preferred to have plenty of room for the bullets to pass
+over him.
+
+"Who's there?" the lieutenant demanded in English; and by the firm,
+resolute voice the Texan knew that the German was not rattled and that
+his men would not fire unless he gave the word.
+
+"Great thing, this naval discipline!" Mr. Daniels soliloquized. Aloud he
+replied:
+
+"The fastest, straightest little wing shot with a six shooter that ever
+was, old-timer!"
+
+"What do you purpose doing, my friend?"
+
+"I purpose giving you some good advice; though whether you accept it or
+not is a matter of indifference to me. You will observe that this hold
+is in comparative darkness. I say comparative, because through the hatch
+space a certain amount of light is projected from the deck above, and
+you and your men are standing in that light, whereas I am in the dark. I
+can see you and you cannot see me. I have a forty-five caliber revolver
+in my hand and another in reserve. There are five of you fellows,
+constituting a fair target--and I seldom miss a fair target. I can kill
+all five of you in five seconds. Of course some of you may manage to
+fire at the flash of my gun and accidentally kill me; but--make no
+mistake about it, son--I'll get you and your gang before I kick the
+bucket. Now, then, which do you want to do--live or die? I'm going to
+be fair to you fellows and give you some choice in the matter--which is
+more than you did when you launched those two torpedoes at us. Speak up,
+brother! I'm a nervous man and dislike suspense."
+
+The German lieutenant glanced at his men, who had not yet touched the
+other bombs and were looking stolidly at him for orders. He licked his
+lower lip and scowled, sighed gustily--and made a swift grab for his
+automatic. A streak of flame came out of the dark alleyway and the
+German's arm hung limp at his side. He had a bullet in his shoulder.
+
+"Told you I was a wing shot!" the plainsman cautioned him pleasantly.
+"I would have put that one through your heart if I didn't need an
+interpreter. I imagine these roustabouts with you only speak their
+mother tongue."
+
+"What do you want me to do?"
+
+"Well, first, I want you to leave that high explosive right where it is.
+Then I want you to deposit all your sidearms on the floor, and have your
+men do likewise."
+
+The German had had his lesson and arrived at the conclusion that valor
+without discretion is not good business. He slipped his belt off and let
+it drop to the floor; at a word from him his men did likewise, whereupon
+Daniels stood up, threw on the electric switch, and revealed himself and
+his artillery to the gaze of the invaders.
+
+"Forward; in a bunch, up the gangway!" he ordered.
+
+They obeyed. As the Texan passed the little heap of belts, with the
+automatics in the holsters attached, he gathered them up and followed.
+Just before the procession reached the main deck he halted them and
+whistled--whereupon Michael J. Murphy, Terence P. Reardon and Cappy
+Ricks came to the edge of the hatch and peered over.
+
+"Well, look who's here!" Cappy exclaimed maliciously. "Five nice little
+pirates, who would sink my _Narcissus_ without so much as a be-damned to
+you! Mike, bring the irons. Terence, my boy, restrain yourself. If you
+use that monkey wrench until I give the word the Blue Star Navigation
+Company will have a new port engineer. Undress these fellows. Just
+remove their caps and outer garments--and be quick about it."
+
+"Tell them to molt--_muy pronto!_" Sam Daniels ordered the lieutenant,
+who relayed the order in a voice that had in it a suspicion of tears.
+
+In three minutes they were undressed and handcuffed together; leg irons
+were put on them, and they were expeditiously gagged and chained to a
+stanchion.
+
+"Now then, Terence, I have work for you and your monkey wrench,"
+Cappy continued. "You're about the same size as this officer. Into his
+dungarees and uniform cap; and don't forget to slip on his belt, with
+the automatic."
+
+"In two shakes av a lamb's tail, sor. What next?"
+
+"As you run down the gangway to the waiting boat, hold your handkerchief
+over that Irish mug of yours. Pretend you're blowing your nose. The man
+in the boat won't recognize you until you're on top of him."
+
+"Wan little love tap--no more!" Terence breathed lovingly.
+
+"When Terence has tapped him, Sam," Cappy continued, "you go down and
+help to get him out on the landing stage. He'll be off our hands there
+and the submarine people cannot see what's happened to him. They're
+still lying on our starboard beam."
+
+Terence and the deadly Samuel disappeared, to return presently and
+report all well. Thereupon Michael J. Murphy retired to the port side of
+the house, lit a kerosene torch he had brought up from the engine room
+and waved it. He waited. Presently, in the gloom off to port, he saw
+the red and green side lights of the little cruiser. For a moment both
+lights were visible; then the master of the _Narcissus_, now in charge
+of the cruiser, ported his helm and showed his red only. Murphy waited,
+and presently both red and green showed again.
+
+"Starboard now, and show your green," Murphy pleaded.
+
+The red went out and the green alone showed; so Mike Murphy extinguished
+his torch and rejoined Cappy Ricks, Terence and the ubiquitous Mr.
+Daniels.
+
+"Sam, my dear boy," Cappy was saying as Murphy came up, "Mike and
+Terence own in the _Narcissus_ and they work for me--hence their
+alliance. You owe me no fealty--"
+
+"The hell I don't, Cap!" Sam retorted lightly. "You're a fine old sport,
+and I'm for you till the last dog is hung."
+
+"Sam, I am deeply grateful. Your friendship is very dear to me indeed.
+I have a twenty-two-thousand acre ranch down in Monterey County,
+California--don't know why I bought it, unless it was because it was
+a bargain and ranch property in California is bound to increase in
+value--and you're my foreman if we ever get out of this with a whole
+skin. I'll make it the best job you ever had, Sam."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Ricks!" A moment before it had been Cap. "If you never
+saw a man fight for a good job before, just watch me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV
+
+
+The horse tenders in the other holds were summoned and informed that for
+the present the _Narcissus_ would not be bombed. Quickly two of them,
+with Mike Murphy and Sam Daniels, donned the dungarees and caps of the
+prisoners and strapped on their belts containing the automatics in their
+holsters. In the interim Terence had descended to the collapsible boat
+bumping at the gangway and fended her off until Sam Daniels, the two
+cowboys and Mike Murphy joined him; whereupon Terence took one pair of
+oars, while Murphy handled the other, and the boat crept out from the
+steamer and headed directly for the submarine, which had been ratching
+backward and forward under a dead-slow bell, watching the towering black
+hulk of the _Narcissus_ rolling idly. A light showed on the turret of
+the submarine, outlining vaguely the figures of half a dozen men on her
+small deck.
+
+The disposition of Mike Murphy's forces was such that the chances of the
+enemy detecting the substitution of the boarding party before it should
+reach the submersible were reduced to a minimum. In the bow of the
+collapsible one of the cowboys sat, facing the stern; Terence and Mike
+also faced the stern, by reason of the fact that they were rowing; and
+Sam Daniels and the other cowboy, seated in the stern sheets, were under
+orders to turn and look back at the _Narcissus_ as the boat came within
+the radius of the meager light from the submarine's turret. Thus they
+ran little risk of premature discovery.
+
+"For," as Cappy Ricks sagely reminded them just before they pulled away
+from the _Narcissus_, "the German is both cautious and cocksure. The
+capture of his bombing party has been effected without a sound; the
+commander saw our men leave the steamer in the boats; he sees the
+_Narcissus_ now not under command and wallowing; he figures that all is
+lovely and the goose honks high. Therefore, he will be off his guard,
+since his suspicions have not been roused. His deck is very dimly
+lighted by that single light on the turret, and he knows that light is
+sufficient to guide the boat party back to the submarine. There is no
+sea running to speak of; so it will not be necessary for him to turn his
+searchlight on you to light the way for you.
+
+"Moreover, he will not care to use his searchlight, because it may guide
+a patrol boat to this spot, and Terence has very carefully turned out
+all the lights on the ship which might be visible from a distance,
+because that is precisely what that lieutenant would or should have done
+if we had given him time. And when you row toward that submarine, row
+like the devil, because that's the way the bombing party would row in
+their hurry to board the submarine and steam clear of the explosion.
+It is my guess that the instant you heave alongside you will be snagged
+with boat hooks by the men on her deck. In the excitement of making a
+quick get-away nobody will be looking into your faces, anyhow; they'll
+see your familiar dungaree suits and caps; some of them may even give
+you a hand to help you when you leap aboard. Do not despise such help;
+just extend your left hands and before you let go the enemy's right bend
+your guns--and you, Terry, your monkey wrench--over their heads. You'll
+have the deck in a pig's whisper! Then, Mike, the rest is up to you.
+I've made the ball; now you fire it.
+
+"I take it the submarine will be in such a hurry to get away that all
+the men on her deck will reach down and snake the boat in; once out of
+danger, they'll plan on knocking that collapsible down and storing
+it away at their leisure. Tackle 'em while they're busy with the
+boat--provided you get aboard unsuspected. Terence, remember to shout
+the minute you go into action--and I'll give you fighting light."
+
+Following these instructions, Cappy had very solemnly shaken hands all
+round and departed for the bridge, where he removed the canvas covering
+from the searchlight, bent the reflector toward the submarine, and
+waited, with his nervous old finger on the switch.
+
+In pursuance of Cappy Ricks' instructions, Mike Murphy and Terence
+Reardon rowed furiously toward the submarine--so furiously, indeed, that
+the harsh grating of their oars in the rowlocks apprised Captain Emil
+Bechtel of their approach some seconds before the boat was visible. At
+his brisk command the men on deck stepped down to the low pipe railing
+on the port side of the deck, prepared to snag the boat the instant she
+drew alongside. When he could hear the sound of the commander's voice,
+Mike Murphy chanced a quick look over his shoulder, noted the position
+of the submarine, and turned his head again.
+
+"Four more strokes, Terry; then ship your oars," he cautioned the
+engineer in a low voice.
+
+At the fourth stroke Terence obediently shipped his oars; with a deft
+twist of one oar, Murphy straightened the boat and shot neatly in
+alongside the submarine, the deck of which was less than three feet
+above the water. As Cappy Ricks had anticipated, the men on that deck
+promptly snagged the boat at bow and stern with boat hooks--and on the
+instant Cappy Ricks' bully boys leaped for their prey.
+
+As luck would have it, Terence P. Reardon was the only one offered a
+helping hand--and he did not despise it; neither did he forget Cappy's
+last instructions. With neatness and ample force he brought his monkey
+wrench down on the German's skull; and then to Cappy Ricks, waiting
+on the bridge of the _Narcissus_, came the ancient Irish battlecry of
+_Faugh-a-ballagh!_ For the benefit of those not versed in the ways of
+the fighting Celt, be it known that _Faugh-a-ballagh_ means Clear the
+Road. And history records but few instances when Irish soldiery have
+raised that cry and rushed without clearing a pathway.
+
+The fight was too short and savage for description. Suffice it to say
+that not a shot was fired--the work was too close for that, for the
+surprise had been complete. Even before Cappy Ricks could focus the
+steamer's searchlight on the fracas, it was over. Terence P. Reardon got
+two in two strokes of his trusty monkey wrench; Sam Daniels and his
+two fellow-bronco-busters each laid open a German scalp with the long
+barrels of their forty-fives; and Michael J. Murphy, plain lunatic-crazy
+with rage, disdaining all but Nature's weapons, tied into the amazed
+Captain Emil Bechtel under the rules of the Longshoremen's Union--which
+is to state that Michael J. Murphy clinched Emil Bechtel, lifted him,
+set him down hard on his plump back, crawled him, knelt on his arms, and
+addressed him in these words:
+
+"Hah! (A right jab to the face.) You would, would you? (Left jab to
+face.) You pig-iron polisher! (Bending the nose back forcibly with the
+heel of his fist.) When I get (smash) through with your (smash) head
+(smash) it'll be long (smash) before you'll block (smash) your hat again
+(smash) on the Samson post, you--"
+
+"Out av me way, Michael, lad, till I get a kick at his slats!" crooned
+Terence P. Reardon, heaving alongside.
+
+"You gossoon! Take care of the scuttle; don't let them close it down,
+or they'll submerge and drown us. Leave this lad to me, I tell you. He's
+the captain, and why shouldn't he be killed by one of his own rank?"
+
+Thus rebuked, Terence curbed his blood-thirsty proclivities. Leaving
+his countryman to beat his devil's tattoo on the submarine commander,
+Terence leaped to the open scuttle just in time to bang another head as
+it appeared on a level with the deck.
+
+"Let that be a lesson to you!" he called as the unconscious man slid
+back down the companion into the interior of the vessel.
+
+Then he sat on the lid of the scuttle, poised his monkey wrench on high
+over the scuttle, and awaited developments, the while he tossed an order
+over his shoulder to Sam Daniels:
+
+"Bring me the bum!"
+
+"Which one?" Mr. Daniels queried.
+
+"The German bum, av coorse," Terence retorted waspishly.
+
+"But all these bums are Germans--"
+
+"Not that kind av a bum!" howled Terence. "I mean the bum in the boat."
+
+Thus enlightened, Sam brought a bomb from the boat and handed it to the
+engineer. In the interim Mike Murphy had polished off his man to his
+entire satisfaction and joined Terence at the scuttle, while one of the
+horse wranglers, a cool individual and a firm believer in safety first,
+collected the weapons from the fallen.
+
+Mike Murphy approached the scuttle and bawled down it to the amazed and
+puzzled crew below. As a linguist Mike was no great shakes, particularly
+when called upon to juggle German; but he was a resolute fellow and not
+afraid to do his best at all times. Consequently his hail took the form
+of "Hey! _Landsmann!_"
+
+Something told Terence Reardon that Michael was through; so he added his
+mite to the store and bellowed:
+
+"_Spreckels die deutsch,_ ye blackguards?"
+
+Then both sat back to await developments. Presently a voice at the foot
+of the companion said:
+
+"Hello dere! Vat iss?"
+
+"Vat iss? Hell iss! Dot's vat! Listen to me, you Dutchy. I'm the skipper
+of that horse transport your commander tried to sink without warning,
+and I'm in command of the deck of this craft, with the scuttle open; and
+you can't submerge and wash me off, either. When I give the word I
+want you and your men to come up, one at a time and no crowding. And if
+you're not up five minutes after I order you up I'll not wait; I'll
+set a bomb in your turret, back off in the small boat and kill with
+revolvers any man that tries to come up and see where the fuse is
+burning in order to put it out. Do you surrender, or would you rather
+die?"
+
+"Vait a minute und I find oud," the German answered promptly.
+
+It required five minutes for a council of war below decks; then the
+interpreter came to the foot of the companion and informed Mike Murphy
+that, considering the circumstances, they had decided to live. In
+the interim the skipper of the _Narcissus_ had arrived, with
+re-enforcements, in the cruiser, and reported that his crew was getting
+back aboard the steamer as fast as possible and would have her under
+command again in a minute. At Murphy's order the unconscious Germans
+were put aboard the cruiser; later, when the remainder of the
+submersible's crew came up, one at a time, they were disarmed and lined
+up on the little deck; whereupon Michael J. Murphy addressed their
+spokesman thus:
+
+"Listen--you! It would be just like you to have set a time bomb
+somewhere in this submarine to blow her up after you were all safely out
+of her. If you did you made a grave tactical error. You're not going
+to leave her for quite a while yet. You're going to sit quietly here on
+deck, under guard, while the steamer hooks on to this submarine and tows
+her; and if my prize crew is blown up, remember, you--"
+
+The spokesman--he was the chief engineer, by the way--yelled "_Ach,
+Gott!_" and leaped for the scuttle. Mike Murphy followed him into the
+engine room in time to see him stamp out a long length of slow-burning
+fuse.
+
+"Any more?" Murphy queried.
+
+"Dot von vas sufficient, if it goes off," the German answered simply.
+
+"All right!" Mike Murphy replied. "I'll take a chance and so will you.
+You'll stay aboard and run those oil engines."
+
+Half an hour later with the submarine's crew safely under lock and key
+on the _Narcissus,_ the big freighter continued on her course, followed
+by the captured submarine, with Michael J. Murphy in her turret and a
+quartermaster from the _Narcissus_ at her helm. In the engine room her
+own engineer grudgingly explained to Terence P. Reardon the workings of
+an oil engine and the ramifications of the electric-light system--and
+during all of that period the deadly monkey wrench never left the port
+engineer's hand.
+
+Sam Daniels and his comrades were once more back aboard the _Narcissus,_
+attending to the horses; and Cappy Ricks, his heart so filled with pride
+that it was like to burst, occupied the submarine's turret with the
+doughty Michael J. For an hour they discussed the marvelous coup until
+there was no angle of it left undiscussed; whereupon fell a silence,
+with Michael J.'s eyes fixed on the dark bulk ahead that marked the
+_Narcissus_, and Cappy's thoughts on what Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner
+would say when they heard the glorious news.
+
+For nearly an hour not a word passed between the pair.
+
+Presently Cappy's regular breathing drew Murphy's attention to him. He
+had fallen asleep in his seat, his chin bent on his old breast, a little
+half-smile on his lips. And as Murphy looked at him pridefully Cappy
+spoke in his sleep:
+
+"Holy sailor! How Mike Murphy can swear!"
+
+Terence P. Reardon came to the foot of the little spiral staircase
+leading to the turret.
+
+"Michael, me lad," he announced, "the internal-combustion ile ingin'
+is the marine ingin' av the future. They're as simple as two an' two is
+four. Listen, _avic!_ Does she not run like a twenty-four-jewel watch?
+An' this man that invinted thim was a Ger-r-man--more power to him!
+Faith, I'm thinkin' if the Ger-r-mans were as great in war as they are
+in peace 'twould need more nor the Irish to take the measure av thim!"
+
+"Irish?" Mike Murphy answered irritably. "Terence, quit your bragging!
+God knows the Irish are great--"
+
+"The greatest in the wide, wide wur-rld!" Terence declared, with all the
+egotism of his race.
+
+"Whist, Terry! There's a little old Yankee man aboard; if you wake him
+up he'll call you a liar."
+
+"The darlin' ould fox!" Terry murmured affectionately, and went back to
+his engines.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LV
+
+
+The entire office force of the Blue Star Navigation Company and the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company had assembled in the general office to
+greet Cappy Ricks, Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon upon their return
+from Europe, and to hear at first hand the story of their wanderings and
+adventures. And when the wondrous tale had been told, and business was
+once more resumed, Matt Peasley, Mr. Skinner, Mike and Terence convened
+in Cappy Ricks' office for further discussion.
+
+"We sent that half million dollars to New York to be transferred to the
+credit of the French Government when the bill of sale for that steamer
+should be deposited with the bank there," Matt remarked presently. "What
+kind of a vessel did you buy, Cappy? What are her dimensions?"
+
+"What kind of a ship did I buy?" Cappy piped. "Hum-m-m! A ship is good.
+I bought four; and--believe me!--they're no skiffs, either. All of them
+are big foreign-going steel tramps, with lots of speed and power."
+
+"Four for half a million dollars?" Matt Peasley cried unbelievingly.
+
+"They would have cost anybody else a million and a half; but--er--well,
+you see, Matt, I had a stand-in with the right people. The four vessels
+I bought were all prizes of war--German merchantmen converted into
+commerce raiders, which had slipped through the cordon of British
+cruisers and got into the North Atlantic, where French cruisers
+overhauled them and brought them into port. They were all there and up
+for sale to the highest bidder when we got there with the horses and our
+captured submarine.
+
+"I bid half a million for the lot, which is probably about half of
+what it cost to build them; and there was a Frenchman and an Englishman
+bidding against me. They each had me topped, and the vessels
+were knocked down to the Frenchman; but when he found I was a
+competitor--that I was Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks--that's what
+they called me, Matt--in command of the party that captured a German
+submarine, intact and without the loss of a single man on either
+side-say, Matt, the stuff was all off!
+
+"He and the Englishman went into a conference; and the result was, the
+Frenchman ran out on his bid and forfeited his ten-per-cent certified
+check. That left the Englishman the next highest bidder; and he ran out
+on his bid and left the ships to me! Then the Englishman shook hands
+with me and the Frenchman kissed me. I thought the least I could do was
+to make good to them on the earnest money they had forfeited, and they
+accepted it. Then the President of France heard about it and came down
+to Brest to see me; and he kissed me, too, and gave me the Officers'
+Cross of the Legion of Honor. I didn't tell him I was just a private
+in the ranks. Oh, no! Nothing doing. I was introduced as Monsieur le
+Capitaine Ricks--and that settled it. I was an officer, for all my
+courtesy title; and I took the Cross, because I was prouder than Punch
+to have it.
+
+"Then the Chamber of Deputies met and voted the Frenchman and the
+Englishman back their forfeited earnest money; and they gave me back
+my checks, and I wrote new ones for the same amount and split the swag
+fifty-fifty between the two nations for the care of their wounded.
+Then I gave a dinner aboard the submarine, and President Poincare was
+present. I presented the submarine, with the compliments of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, to the Republic of France, and the President
+accepted, all hands went out on deck and we cracked a bottle of
+champagne over that submersible's bows and rechristened her."
+
+"What name?" Matt and Skinner chorused.
+
+"The Shamrock--out of compliment to Mike and Terence."
+
+"Fine!" Matt cried. "Then what?"
+
+"Nothing, Matt. Our business was finished and I was anxious to get
+back on the job; so we engaged skippers and crews to bring our four
+freighters to New York, and came home.
+
+"Better step lively, boy, and dig up some business for them! Mike will
+give you the data on their tonnage."
+
+Matt drew Mike Murphy aside.
+
+"Tell me, Mike," he whispered, "did the old man get soused at that
+dinner aboard the _Shamrock?_"
+
+"Look here, Matt," Murphy answered; "what Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks
+does outside of office hours is none of my business--or yours, either.
+And if you don't like that answer help yourself to a new port captain.
+I'm not telling everything I know, Matt."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVI
+
+
+On the morning of April 3, 1917, Cappy Ricks came down to his office,
+spread a newspaper on his desk and carefully cut from it the war address
+of President Wilson to Congress, made the night before. This clipping
+the old gentleman folded carefully; he placed it in an envelope, sealed
+it and wrote across the face of the envelope: "Property of Alden Matthew
+Peasley." Then he summoned Mr. Skinner, president of the Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he began, "have you read the President's Message
+to Congress?"
+
+"I have," replied Skinner.
+
+"I guess that President of ours isn't some tabasco, eh? By the Holy
+Pink-Toed Prophet, he's just naturally read Bill Hohenzollern out of the
+party. Bully for Woodrow!"
+
+Mr. Skinner's calm cold features refused to thaw, however, under the
+heat of his employer's enthusiasm, seeing which Cappy slid out to the
+edge of his chair and gazed contemplatively at Skinner over the rims
+of his spectacles. "Hum-m-m!" he said. The very tempo of that
+throat-clearing should have warned Mr. Skinner that he was treading on
+thin ice, but with his usual complacence he ignored the storm signal,
+for his mind was upon private, not public affairs.
+
+"I'm offered the old barkentine _C. D. Bryant_ for a cargo of redwood to
+Sydney," he began. "The freight rate is two hundred and twenty shillings
+per thousand feet, but the _Bryant_ is so old and rotten I can't get any
+insurance on the cargo if I ship by her. I'm just wondering if--"
+
+"Haramph-h-h! Ahem-m-m!"
+
+"--it's worth while taking a chance to move that foreign order."
+
+"Skinner!" Cappy almost shouted.
+
+Mr. Skinner looked at him, startled.
+
+"How can you think and talk of old barkentines and non-insurable foreign
+cargoes at this crisis in our country's history?" the autocrat of the
+numerous Ricks corporations shrilled furiously. "Dad burn your picture,
+Skinner, are you human? Don't you ever get a thrill from reading a
+document like this?"--and he tapped the envelope containing the press
+clipping. "What kind of juice runs in your arteries, anyhow? Red blood
+or buttermilk? Is your soul so dog-goned dead, crushed under the weight
+of dollars, that you have failed to realize this document is destined to
+go down in history side by side with Lincoln's Gettysburg speech? I'll
+bet you don't know the Gettysburg speech. Bet you never heard of it!"
+
+"Oh, nonsense, Mr. Ricks," Skinner retorted suavely. "Pray do not excite
+yourself. Suppose war does impend? Is that any reason why I should
+neglect business?"
+
+"Of course it is, you gibbering jackdaw! I feel like setting fire to the
+building, just to celebrate. Can't you step into my office on a day like
+this and discuss the country and her affairs for five minutes, just to
+prove you're an American citizen? Can't you rejoice with me over these
+lofty, noble sentiments--"
+
+"Words, words, empty words," warned Mr. Skinner, always a reactionary
+Republican.
+
+"Skinner," said Cappy with deadly calm, "one more disloyal peep out of
+you and I shall have no alternative save to request your resignation. I
+think you're a pacifist at heart, anyhow!"
+
+"Huh," snorted Skinner. "You've changed your tune, haven't you? Who
+trotted up and down California Street last fall, soliciting campaign
+contributions for the Republican nominee from the lumber and shipping
+interests? Wasn't it Alden P. Ricks? Who thought the country was going
+to wrack and ruin--"
+
+"That was last fall," Cappy interrupted shrilly. "We live and
+learn--that is, some of us do," he added significantly. "Never mind
+about my politics last fall; just remember I haven't any this spring.
+I'm an American citizen, and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, some German
+or Germans will find it out before I'm gathered to the bosom of Abraham.
+I have a right to disapprove of my President if I feel like it, but I'll
+be shot if I'll let anybody else pick on him." And Cappy shook his head
+emphatically several times like a squinch-owl.
+
+"Oh, I'm for him, now that we're committed to this war," Skinner
+declared in an effort to soothe the old man.
+
+"Sure! We're locking the stable door after the horse has been stolen. If
+we'd been for him when the _Lusitania_ was sunk instead of being divided
+in our opinions and swayed in our judgment by a lot of hysterical
+pacifists and German propagandists we'd have been into the war long
+ago and saved millions of human lives; we'd have had the war won." He
+sighed.
+
+"What a prime lot of jackasses we Americans are!" he continued. "We talk
+of liberty and demand license; we prate of democracy and we're a nation
+of snobs!"
+
+"You wanted to see me about something," Skinner reminded him.
+
+"Ah, yes; I was forgetting. This envelope, Skinner, contains the
+President's address. Take it and put it in the vault, and when my
+grandson is twelve years old give that press clipping to his mother and
+tell her I said she was to read it to the boy and make him learn it
+by heart. I won't be on hand to do the Americanizing of that youngster
+myself, and most likely Matt Peasley will be too busy to think much
+about it, so I'm taking no chances. You rile me to beat the band
+sometimes, Skinner, but I'll say this much in your favor: I have never
+known you to forget anything."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+Mr. Skinner took the envelope and departed, and Cappy rang for a
+stenographer.
+
+"Take a telegram, fast day message," he barked: "'His Excellency, The
+President, White House, Washington, D. C. Dear Mister President: I did
+not vote for you last fall, but your address of last night makes
+me ashamed that I did not. I am controlling owner of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, operating a fleet of fifty vessels of various kinds,
+twelve of which are foreign-going steam freighters. Am also controlling
+owner of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, cutting a million feet of
+lumber daily. Everything I control, every dollar I possess, is at the
+service of my country. God bless you, sir! Alden P. Ricks.'
+
+"That sounds sloppy, but it's the way I feel," Cappy declared. "When
+a man has a big heart-breaking job to do and a lot of Philistines are
+knocking him, maybe it helps him to retain his faith in humankind to
+have some fellow grow sincerely sloppy and slip a telegraphic cheer in
+with the hoots. Besides, if I didn't let off steam today I'd swell up
+and bust myself all over the office--"
+
+The door opened and Mr. Terence P. Reardon, port engineer of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, entered. Mr. Reardon's right eye was in deep
+mourning and at no very remote period something--presumably a fist--had
+shifted his nose slightly to starboard; indeed, even as he entered
+Cappy's office a globule of the rich red Reardon blood trembled in each
+of the port engineer's nostrils. His knuckles were slightly skinned and
+the light of battle blazed in his black eyes.
+
+"Terence, my dear, dear fellow," murmured the horrified Cappy, "you look
+as if you had been fed into a concrete mixer. Have you been fighting?"
+
+"Well, sor," Mr. Reardon replied in his deep Kerry brogue, "ye might
+call it that for lack of somethin' more expressive. I've just fired the
+chief engineer o' the _Tillicum."_
+
+"Mr. Denicke? Why, Terry, he's a first-rate engineer. I'm amazed. He was
+with us ten years before you entered the employ--worked up from oiler;
+in fact, I must have an explanation of your action in this case,
+Terence."
+
+"He called the President a nut. I fired him for that. Then he said the
+Kaiser was the greatest single force for civilization that ever was, an'
+wit' that I gave him a lift under the lug an' we wint at it. He's in
+the Harbor Receivin' Hospital this minute, an' I'm here to tell ye,
+sor, wit' all respect, that if ye don't like the way I've treated that
+Dutchman ye can get yerself a new port ingineer, for I'll quit, an'
+that's somethin' I'm not wishful to do."
+
+Quite calmly Cappy Ricks pressed the buzzer on his desk. The cashier of
+the Blue Star Navigation Company entered. "Son," said Cappy, "hereafter,
+when making out Mr. Reardon's pay check, tack onto it twenty-five
+dollars extra each month. That is all."
+
+"Thank you, sor," murmured Mr. Reardon, quite overcome.
+
+"Get out!" cried Cappy. "You're a vision of sudden death. Go wash
+yourself."
+
+As Mr. Reardon took his departure Cappy sighed. "If Skinner only had a
+set of works like that port engineer!" he murmured. "If he only had!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII
+
+
+It will be recalled that war with Germany was declared on Good Friday.
+Bright and early on Saturday morning Cappy Ricks arrived at his office
+and immediately summoned Mr. Skinner.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he chirped, "'the tumult and the shouting dies.
+We're down to brass tacks--at last; and now is time for all good men and
+true to come to the aid of the party. I'm too old to bear arms, and when
+I was young enough bantam battalions weren't fashionable; nevertheless,
+I am enlisting for the war, and I start in this morning to do my part. I
+won't wear any uniform, but believe me, Skinner, I'm the little corporal
+who's going to mobilize the Blue Star Navigation Company and the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, together with all and sundry of their
+subsidiary corporations. I'm starting with you, Skinner. Are you
+figuring on enlisting?"
+
+"Certainly not, sir. I'm forty-three years old, married--"
+
+"No excuses necessary, Skinner. Even if you had planned to enlist I
+would have forbidden the banns. You'd make a bird of a paymaster or
+quartermaster, but as an enlisted man--well, the other bad soldier boys
+would toss you in a blanket. So I'll assign you to a job in civil life.
+Skinner, what do you know about aeroplanes?"
+
+"Absolutely nothing, except that they fly."
+
+"Then learn something! Skinner, the ideal wood for aeroplane
+construction is clear Pacific Coast spruce. I've been reading up on the
+subject. Inasmuch as this war must be won in the air, you can imagine
+the number of aeroplanes the country must turn out in the next eighteen
+months. Stu-pen-dous, Skinner, simply stu-pen-dous! Try to visualize
+the wastage alone in the aeroplanes on the battle fronts; consider the
+thousands of seaplanes that will scour the Atlantic on the lookout
+for submarines, and then ask yourself, Skinner, what the devil those
+overworked army and navy officers in Washington are going to do about
+laying in a supply of clear Pacific Coast spruce before these pirates of
+lumbermen get next and boost the price clear out of sight. Skinner, what
+is clear spruce worth at the Northern mills today?"
+
+"About fifty-five dollars per thousand, sir. For years clear spruce
+never rose in price beyond thirty-five dollars, but purchases by the
+British Government have shot the price up during the past year."
+
+"Exactly! And purchases by the United States Government will shoot the
+price up to a hundred and fifty dollars a thousand if you and I don't
+get busy. Now then, Skinner, listen to me! We have a couple of thousand
+acres of wonderful spruce timber adjacent to our fir holdings at
+Port Hadlock, Washington. Wire the mill manager to swamp in a logging
+railroad to that spruce timber, put in logging camps and concentrate
+on spruce. The clear stock we'll sell to the Government, and the lower
+grades will be snapped up by the box factories."
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded his comprehension of the order and Cappy continued:
+"Wire our mill managers at Astoria, Oregon and Eureka, California,
+to log out all the spruce they come across among the fir. As for
+you, Skinner, accept no more orders for clear spruce from our regular
+customers, and go easy on accepting orders for any kind of lumber
+from our Eastern customers. All those car shipments must be made up of
+kiln-dried stock, and we'll want most of the space in our dry kilns to
+cook this clear green spruce for Uncle Sam, because he's going to want
+it in a hurry, and if he can't get it when he wants it--why, chaos has
+come again and all hell's let loose!"
+
+"What price do you propose charging the Government for this clear
+spruce?" the cautious Skinner queried. He owned a little stock in the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company and already he had a vision of an extra
+dividend.
+
+"Absolute cost plus ten per cent," replied Cappy promptly. "No excess
+profits at the expense of the country at war, Skinner."
+
+He gazed upon Skinner contemplatively for several seconds. "And mind you
+don't figure the cost too liberally," he warned him.
+
+"Very well, sir. Is that all?"
+
+"Not by a jugful! You scatter round the market and buy up every stick
+of clear two-inch spruce sawed and on hand at the Northern mills. Buy
+at the market, but do not hesitate to go five dollars over the market if
+necessary to get the stock. Then place orders for all the clear spruce
+the mills can cut and deliver within the next six months, and we'll have
+the market hog tied.
+
+"Got to do it, Skinner. I tell you there isn't a whole lot of difference
+between a lumberman and a manufacturer or a food speculator. When he
+gets the public foul, doesn't the public pay through the nose? Haven't
+we been doing it ourselves in the matter of ship freights? But we must
+reform, Skinner, we must reform and get down to a cooperative basis,
+no matter how great the agony. On this spruce deal alone, for instance,
+we'll save the Government a couple of million dollars. See if we don't."
+
+"We're entitled to a liberal profit," Mr. Skinner protested. "If--"
+
+"No ifs, buts or ands! Obey orders! About the time we have the market on
+clear spruce well cornered the lumbermen's boys will be in the army
+and the lumbermen themselves will have begun to realize that they must
+sacrifice something for their country. And once we're sane we'll be able
+to work hand in glove with the Government. The United States of America
+has been money-mad for a long time, Skinner, but this war is going
+to spiritualize us and show us that there's a lot more in life than
+dollar-chasing. Hop to your job, P. D. Q., Skinner, my boy; and as you
+pass out send Captain Matt Peasley in to me."
+
+Matt Peasley came smilingly into his father-in-law's office. "Well,
+Cappy," he hailed the old gentleman, "I understand you've come out of
+your retirement."
+
+"You're damned whistling, I have!" Cappy rejoined. "Something doing,
+boy, something for everybody! Have they told you about it in the general
+office?"
+
+"Told me about what?"
+
+"About the President asking me if I would cooperate with him to the
+extent of serving as the Pacific Coast member of the Shipping Board?
+I guess that isn't some honor, eh? How the devil he ever dug up an old
+fossil like me is a mystery. I wired him, advising that he appoint a
+younger man, but he replied that he knew I was the livest shipping man
+in the country and an American through and through. So, of course, Matt,
+I have accepted."
+
+"Your forty odd years' experience will be of inestimable value to the
+country in this emergency," Matt declared heartily. "I'm proud of you."
+
+"Thank you, son. Now then, Matt, to business! The Government's going to
+need every one of our ships that can run foreign." Matt nodded. "Very
+well, then," Cappy continued; "as fast as their present charters lapse,
+decline to recharter except for single trips. We must go on a war
+basis and be prepared to turn our ships over to the Government on short
+notice. I'll be too busy to keep my eye on the details of the Blue
+Star's transactions with the Government, so I'll give you a straight tip
+now--I want no gouging. Remember that, Matthew, my son."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII
+
+
+The following day Cappy had a call from Sam Daniels.
+
+"Hello, Sam," Cappy greeted his lanky ranch manager. "What brings you
+up to town? Not that I'm not glad to see you, for I was on the point of
+writing you on some matters that had occurred to me."
+
+"I've come up to resign my job," Daniels declared humbly.
+
+"Resign the best job you've ever had, Sam!" Cappy was amazed.
+
+"To resign the best job I ever will have, Mr. Ricks."
+
+Mr. Daniels hitched his chair close to his employer's desk. "Boss," he
+said, "I'm awful sorry, but I'm goin' soldiering."
+
+Cappy Ricks sprang to his feet with an oath. "You're not!" he shouted.
+"I won't hear of it. You're too valuable a man to go into the army and
+get yourself killed--particularly since you can do your share at
+home. Why, I was just going to write you and give you your orders for
+patriotic duty. You go back to the ranch, Sam, and get busy. Plant
+spuds, wheat, oats, barley, corn--plant all you can of it. Raise
+heifers, sheep, hogs, cows, bulls, calves, turkeys--everything that can
+be eaten. Raise horses--and in particular, raise mules."
+
+"I'd rather raise hell with a bunch of Germans," Sam Daniels declared
+feelingly.
+
+"Your job is to help produce cereals and canned beef for the
+hell-raisers," Cappy declared. "The army will want horses for the
+artillery and mules for the transport. Why, this war may last for years.
+Sam, you infernal scoundrel, you get back on the farm. You're forty-five
+years old and you've been shot and whittled enough in your day to last
+you the remainder of your natural life. Let the young fellows do the
+fighting abroad, while you and I and the other hasbeens do it at home."
+
+"I'd a heap rather lay off in the brush somewheres an' snipe Germans,"
+Mr. Daniels pleaded. "On the level, boss, if they'll give me a
+Springfield rifle with telescopic sights I'll guarantee to sicken
+anythin' I get a fair sight on at a thousand yards."
+
+"In-fer-nal scoundrel! How dare you argue with me! You get back on your
+job!"
+
+"Boss, I'm going into the army," Daniels announced sadly, but
+nevertheless firmly. "I'm givin' you a month's notice so you can get a
+man to take my place."
+
+Cappy surrendered. "All right, Sam. If you survive, your job will be
+waiting for you when you get back. However, you needn't give me any
+notice. I'll have another man in charge of the ranch to-morrow, and you
+can enlist today."
+
+"And you're not sore at me, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"Sam, I'm proud of you. Wish I were young enough to go it with you. Are
+you in a hurry to get to France?"
+
+"Certainly am."
+
+"Then join the marines. They always go first. Good-bye, Sam. Good luck
+to you and God bless you! Draw your wages as you go out and tell the
+cashier I said to give you an extra month's wages for tobacco money."
+
+Mr. Daniels withdrew, visibly filled with emotion. Ten minutes later
+Cappy Ricks, watching at his office window, saw Mr. Daniels cross the
+street and enter the marines' recruiting office. Immediately Cappy
+called that recruiting office on the telephone and asked for the doctor.
+
+"Look here, doctor!" he said. "In a few minutes a lanky, battle scarred
+rancher is coming in to be examined. I don't want him to enlist. He's
+my ranch manager and worth more to the country in his job than at the
+Front. You turn him down physically, doctor, and I'll guarantee to
+send you five fine recruits instead of that old fossil. His name is Sam
+Daniels, and I'm Alden P. Ricks, of the Blue Star Navigation Company,
+across the street."
+
+"We need an automobile to send our recruiting sergeant out through the
+state," the wary medico replied. "Now, if you could loan us one--"
+
+"I'll have my own car and chauffeur over in half an hour, and you keep
+him as long as you need him," Cappy piped. "Only tell Sam Daniels he's
+faltering on the brink of the grave and send him back to me."
+
+An hour later Mr. Daniels slouched into Cappy Ricks' office. "Well,
+Private Daniels," the old man saluted him, "you look downcast. Has
+something slipped?"
+
+"I should say it has. The doc over to the recruitin' office says I got a
+heart murmur from smoking cigarettes, which it's a cinch the excitement
+o' battle brings on death from heart failure, an' then folks would say I
+died o' fright."
+
+"He's crazy Sam! Tell him to go chase himself."
+
+"I guess he's right, Mr. Ricks. He 'most cried to let me go, an' was for
+waivin' the heart murmur, but it seems I got a floatin' kidney, an' flat
+feet. Gosh, I never knew I had flat feet, but then I've rid horses all
+my life an' ain't never hiked none to speak of."
+
+He was silent several minutes, studying the pattern of the office
+carpet. Presently he looked up. "Is my successor at the ranch already
+appointed?" he queried.
+
+"Go back to the fields and the kind-faced cows, Samuel," quoth Cappy
+gently. "Hurry, or you'll miss the train."
+
+Sam Daniels fled, and hard on his heels came Mrs. Michael J. Murphy,
+_nee_ Miss Keenan. It will be recalled that prior to her happy alliance
+with Michael J. Murphy, Mrs. Murphy had been Cappy Ricks' favorite
+stenographer. He received her cordially.
+
+"Now then, what's gone wrong, my dear?" he demanded. "Have you and Mike
+been making a hash of your married life that you should come in here on
+the verge of tears?"
+
+Mrs. Murphy blinked away a tear or two and sat down. "Some of the boys
+in the office will be enlisting, Mr. Ricks," she faltered. "I wonder
+if there might be a vacancy for me--if I might not have my old position
+back?"
+
+Cappy Ricks was genuinely concerned. "Why, Mike won't let you earn your
+living," he declared. "Why do you make such an extraordinary request?"
+
+"For Mike's sake, Mr. Ricks. Of late he has been very nervous and
+distrait; scarcely touches his meals, and thinks, talks and dreams of
+war. Last night he dreamed he was back in the navy and shouted out an
+order that woke him up."
+
+"Come to think of it, I believe Mike did spend several years in the navy
+prior to going into mercantile marine," Cappy observed. "So he has the
+war fever again, eh? Wants to go back?"
+
+"Ever since he received a letter from the Navy League. They're searching
+out all the old navy men--gun pointers particularly--and asking them to
+come back to help train the young fellows just coming into the service.
+Mike was a gun pointer--"
+
+"Well, what in thunder is he hesitating for?" Cappy piped wrathfully.
+
+"About me. Mike's married to me, you know, and he worries about
+what will happen to me if he should be killed. He knows I'll be
+broken-hearted if he enlists--he's afraid I'll not let him go. But if I
+got my job back and was self-supporting, Mike's conscience would be--"
+
+"Do you want him to go?"
+
+"No, Mr. Ricks, but he must go. I do not want to make a coward or a
+slacker out of Mike. I've got to do my part, you know."
+
+"My dear," said Cappy feelingly, "you're a noble woman. Go back and
+attend to your little home; Mike may go whenever he's ready and his
+salary with the Blue Star will go on while he is in the navy; his job
+will be waiting for him when he comes back. Good old Mike! How dreadful
+a crime to hobble that Irishman with a first-class fight in sight."
+
+When Mrs. Mike had left the office Cappy stiffened out suddenly in
+his chair, clenched his fists and closed his eyes, as if in pain. And
+presently between the wrinkled old lids two tears crept forth. Poor
+Cappy! He was finding it very, very hard to be old and little and out
+of the fight, for in every war in which the United States had engaged
+representatives of the tribe of Ricks had gladly offered their bodies
+for the supreme sacrifice, and as Cappy's active mind ran down the long
+and bloody list his heart swelled with anguish in the knowledge that
+he was doomed to play an inglorious part in the war with Germany. Mr.
+Skinner coming in with a letter to Cappy, observed the old man's emotion
+and asked him if he was ill.
+
+"Yes, Skinner, I am," he replied. "I'm sick at heart. God has given
+me everything I ever wanted except six big strapping sons. Just think,
+Skinner, what a glorious honor would be mine if I had six fine boys to
+give to my country." His old lips trembled. "And you could bank on the
+Ricks boys," he added. "My boys would never wait to be drafted. No,
+sir-ree! When they heard the call they'd answer, like their ancestors.
+
+"Skinner, what has come over our boys of this generation? Why don't they
+volunteer? Why does the President have to beg for men? Has the soul
+of the idealist been corroded by a life of ease? Did the spirit of
+adventure die with our forefathers? Is it any harder to die just because
+war has become more terrible--more deadly? Oh, Skinner, Skinner! To be
+young and tall and strong and whirled in the cycle of vast events--to
+play a man's part in a glorious undertaking--to feel that I have
+enriched the world with my efforts, however humble, or with my body
+revitalized the soil made fallow by a ravishing monster. I feel,
+Skinner--I feel so much and can do so little."
+
+Nevertheless, he did do something that very afternoon. One after the
+other he examined all the young men in his employ, discovered which of
+them could afford the luxury of enlisting and then asked them bluntly
+whether they were going to enlist. Three of them said they were, and
+Cappy promised each of them a month's salary the day he should report to
+him in uniform. Nine others appeared to be uncertain of their duty,
+so Cappy fired them all, to the great distress of Mr. Skinner and Matt
+Peasley. Cappy, however, turned a deaf ear to their remonstrances.
+
+"A man who won't fight for his country is no good," he declared; "and I
+won't keep a no-good son of a slacker on my pay roll. Get married men
+or men who have been rejected for military service to take the places of
+these bums who haven't courage enough even to try to enlist."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX
+
+
+The campaign for the Liberty bonds brought Cappy an appointment from
+the mayor as captain of a corps of volunteer bond salesmen to work
+the wholesale lumber and shipping trade, and for three weeks the old
+gentleman was as busy as the proverbial one-armed paper hanger with
+the itch. He was obsessed with a fear that the bond issue would be
+under-subscribed by about a billion and a half and result in the
+United States of America being accorded a hearty Teutonic horse laugh.
+Consequently he made five separate subscriptions on his own account, and
+just before the lists closed on the last day he was again overcome with
+apprehension and subscribed for an additional ten thousand dollars'
+worth for his grandson! When the result of the Liberty-bond campaign was
+made known he almost wept with joy and gave a wonderful dinner to his
+corps of salesmen, after which he went down to his ranch to rest for a
+week and see what Sam Daniels was up to.
+
+The morning he returned to town, prepared to leap, heart and soul into
+the hundred-million-dollar Red Cross drive, he had a visit from his port
+captain, Michael J. Murphy.
+
+"Well, sir," Murphy announced, "I've cleaned up all the little details
+in my department, your new port captain is on the job, and I'm about to
+go over to the naval training station on Goat Island and hold up my hand
+again. But before I go, sir, I want to express to you something of what
+I feel for what you've done for me and mine."
+
+"Tut, tut. Not another peep out of you, sir!" Cappy commanded. To be
+thanked for anything always made him feel uncomfortable. "What branch of
+the service do you hope to get into, Mike?"
+
+"I want to get aboard a destroyer, sir, though they're the divil an' all
+to live aboard. They offer the best chance for action. Patrolling the
+submarine zone, you know."
+
+"Gosh," Cappy groaned; "everybody's got the submarines on the brain,
+and I'm tagging along with the rest. Mike, I swear I can't sleep nights,
+thinking of this war. It breaks my heart to realize I'm out of it. And
+because I'm a shipping man, naturally my fool brain runs to submarines
+and how to control them. Mike, I have a great yearning to sink a
+submarine; the screams of those scoundrels aboard her would be music to
+my ears."
+
+"It's a serious problem," Murphy declared soberly; "but I'm hoping our
+Yankee ingenuity will solve it."
+
+"Well, we haven't done it to date, and in the meantime all the nut
+inventors in the world are sending their nut ideas in to the National
+Council of Defense. Of course I have a bright idea too. I'm a great hand
+at hatching cute schemes, you know. However, I differ from the average
+submarine nut in this--that I want to try out my theory in practice
+before submitting it to an expectant world. Still, I'd need you to
+help me; and now that you're going into the navy I suppose I'll have to
+forget it."
+
+"I seem to remember a scheme of yours that resulted in the capture of
+a submarine last year," Murphy reminded the old man. "That was a bully
+scheme, and I'm willing to wager that the head which produced it
+can produce another just as good. Tell me your plan for eliminating
+submarines, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"My scheme doesn't contemplate a continuous performance," Cappy hastened
+to explain, "but it might work out once or twice--and in this great
+international emergency anything is worth trying once. I could
+demonstrate my theory in about two months--with your help."
+
+"Then," declared Michael J. Murphy, "I'll wait until you give the
+demonstration before enlisting in the navy."
+
+"Bully for you, Mike! I'll declare Terry Reardon in on the experiment
+also, for the reason that one of the ingredients required is a chief
+engineer with courage to spare. Now then, for my scheme: Do you know the
+_Costa Rica?_"
+
+"That old steamer that used to run to Panama for the Pacific Mail?"
+
+"The same."
+
+"What about her?"
+
+"She's in the bone yard--laid up for keeps, Mike. Her plates are so
+thin and soft the least jar would punch a hole in her; she's wrecked
+and strained from fifty years of service; her engines are worn out, her
+boilers are burned out, her gear is antiquated, and even in these
+times of abnormal freight rates she's too far gone to patch up and
+keep running. They kicked her up in the mud of Oakland Inner Harbor
+yesterday, and there she'll be stripped of everything of value and left
+to rot. My plan, Mike, is to buy the old _Costa Rica_ for a couple of
+thousand dollars, turn Terence Reardon and his gang loose on her engines
+and boilers for a couple of weeks and take the old coffin out for one
+final voyage. She can make eight or nine knots in good weather, and if
+she's torpedoed the loss will be trifling. Will you run the risk and
+take her out for me, Mike?"
+
+"Yes, sir. What for?"
+
+"As a decoy."
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"We'll put a hand-picked crew aboard her, Mike; we'll arm her fore and
+aft with six-inch guns, which we can readily get from the navy now
+that it's the fashion to arm merchantmen; and then go cruising in the
+submarine zone. You can pick up a few old navy men for a gun crew and
+train some of the Costa Rica's crew, can't you?"
+
+"If we can get somebody to give me the range and manage to get the
+gun loaded somehow, I'll do the gun pointing; with half a chance I'll
+guarantee results."
+
+"And that is exactly what I plan to give you--half a chance," Cappy
+declared enthusiastically. "The Costa Rica isn't worth two hoots in a
+hollow, but she still looks enough like a steamer to attract submarines;
+and during this fine summer weather we can chance a final voyage with
+the old wreck."
+
+"Where do you get this 'we' stuff, Mr. Ricks?" Mike Murphy queried
+bluntly. "You're not figuring on going to sea in that coffin, are you?"
+
+"I most certainly am so figuring. I take my fun where I find it, Mike,
+and if I'm to plan and pay for this experiment--then, by gravy, I'm
+going to be on deck to watch it work out if it's the last act of my
+sinful career."
+
+"But if they fire on us you may be killed."
+
+"We'll be firm' back at 'em, won't we? And if I'm killed in action,
+won't that be a fitting finish for a Ricks?"
+
+"We may be afloat in an open boat for a week. I don't want you to die of
+exposure, sir."
+
+"Forget it, Mike! I've been charged off to profit and loss for so many
+years it makes me ill to think of them. And you remember, my dear Mike,
+
+   _"'To every man upon this earth
+    Death cometh soon or late;
+    And how can man die better
+    Than facing fearful odds
+    For the ashes of his fathers
+    And the temples of his gods?'_
+
+Don't argue with me, Mike. My mind is quite made up. I'm going
+into action in this war, for, as I said before, I'll try anything
+once--particularly when it isn't very expensive and I can afford the
+luxury. We're going to buy the _Costa Rica_, take her into the submarine
+zone and lose her, but, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, we'll take a
+submarine with us!"
+
+"Not if the German sees us first."
+
+Cappy leaned forward and laid his index finger impressively on Michael
+J. Murphy's knee. "That's the only way we can hope to win," he declared.
+"We must make certain the submarine sees us first. Mike, a German is a
+rabid disciple of law and order; anything out of the usual run of things
+upsets him terribly; he never makes allowance for the unexpected or for
+the other fellow's point of view. To be more exact, Mike, I figure
+that German psychology is the only kind of psychology a German can
+understand. And to tell you the truth, Mike," he added musingly, "there
+are blamed few people who can understand mine."
+
+Michael J. Murphy nodded a vigorous indorsement to this last remark, and
+Cappy went on: "Do you think any proud and arrogant skipper of a German
+submarine would ever suspect an American citizen of such a harebrained
+scheme as the sending out of a rusty, creaking old rattletrap of a
+steamer that can't get out of her own way, for the avowed purpose of
+destroying him and his sub? No sir! His microphones will tell him, while
+he is still totally submerged, that his approaching prey is a slow poke
+and cannot possibly outrun him; then he'll come up, take a look and
+clinch his conclusions--after which he will attack."
+
+"True for you sir. He'll launch his torpedo and dive before I can get a
+shot at him or correct my range to hit him; then the torpedo will hit
+us and we'll go up like a shower of mush--probably with half a dozen men
+killed and nothing accomplished in the way of a return swat."
+
+"That was the program a few months ago," Cappy retorted triumphantly.
+"Have you noticed, however, that since merchantmen have been armed
+the submarines are more and more prone, when attacking in daylight, to
+pursue a steamer at a reasonable distance and rake her with shell
+fire? If a vessel is fired on and her skipper, looking back, notes the
+position of the submarine and realizes that he cannot possibly outrun
+her and that she outranges him, what does he do, Mike?"
+
+"He does the sensible thing. Heaves to to avoid loss of life, gets his
+men into the boats and abandons his ship to the Hun."
+
+"Precisely! And if the Hun thinks he is not likely to be disturbed for a
+couple of hours, what does he do?"
+
+"Why," said Murphy, "he comes aboard, removes all the stores he
+can--particularly engine oil--and strips the vessel of all her brass,
+copper and bronze fittings. These metals are very scarce in Germany and
+they need all they can get in the manufacture of munitions."
+
+"Correct! And we must bear in mind, Mike, the fact that a German is
+naturally thrifty; if he can sink a ship with shell fire or bombs set
+in her bilges he will not waste on her a torpedo that costs from ten to
+twenty thousand dollars. Now, will he?"
+
+"Well, I wouldn't, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"Then my plan is absurdly simple. We merely provide a gorgeous
+opportunity for the enemy; we inculcate in him the idea that he is about
+to pick a soft one--then: Alas, poor Yorick!"
+
+Michael J. Murphy rose and put on his hat. "Where are you going, Mike?"
+Cappy demanded.
+
+"I'm going up to the navy yard at Mare Island," the port captain
+declared, "to see if I cannot pick up a couple of six-inch rifles of
+the model they used when I was in the navy. They're obsolete now, but
+I understand them--and while I'm getting the guns I'll pick up four or
+five old navy men. Leave it to me, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"We'll give 'em hell!" shouted Cappy.
+
+"We will!" quoth Michael J. Murphy with conviction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LX
+
+
+Two weeks later the old _Costa Rica,_ looking somewhat youthful in a
+new coat of black paint and with a huge American flag painted on each
+topside, slipped quietly out of San Francisco in ballast and for the
+last time turned her nose toward Panama. In the brief period given him
+in which to overhaul her interior, Terence P. Reardon had accomplished
+wonders, and an hour after Mike Murphy had taken his bearings from Point
+San Pedro and laid out his course the chief came into the chart room to
+announce that the old girl was doing eight knots and, barring unexpected
+bad weather, would continue to do it without falling to pieces. "If I
+could have spint two thousand dollars more on her," Terence declared, "I
+believe I could get another knot out av her. Time was whin she could do
+sixteen."
+
+Cappy Ricks, enjoying his afternoon cigar in the snug chart room,
+snorted vigorously. "I don't very often take a notion to throw my money
+into the sea, Terence," he reminded his port engineer, "but when I do
+get that reckless I limit myself to twenty thousand dollars, and that,
+in round figures, is what this old ruin will stand me about the time the
+torpedo blows you up on top of the fiddle. However, that is a trifling
+investment if we succeed in destroying a late-type German submarine with
+a couple of hundred thousand dollars' worth of torpedoes aboard. As a
+sporting proposition it's somewhat more expensive than golf, but the
+excitement makes up for the added cost."
+
+"The old box is alive with rats and bedbugs," Murphy complained.
+
+"If they annoy you, Mike, my boy, comfort yourself with the thought that
+they're all going to be drowned," Cappy replied gayly.
+
+Slowly the old packet wallowed down the coast, the while her crew, under
+Mike Murphy's supervision, built gun platforms fore and aft. Following
+their completion, the two six-inch guns Cappy had succeeded in getting
+from the navy were lifted out of the hold with the aid of the cargo
+winch and placed in position, one forward and the other aft. Thereupon
+the mate took charge of the _Costa Rica,_ while Mike Murphy drilled his
+crew in range finding and celerity in loading the piece. Pointing the
+gun was entirely up to Murphy and, needless to state, the task was in
+capable hands, as was frequently demonstrated during target practice as
+they loafed down the coast.
+
+Upon arrival at Panama the _Costa Rica's_ bunkers were replenished
+and an extra supply of sacked coal was piled on deck, for with her
+patched-up boilers the old steamer was a hog on fuel. Then the mechanics
+and carpenters and all men not vitally needed aboard for the remainder
+of the voyage were put ashore and furnished with transportation back to
+San Francisco by the regular Pacific Mail liner. Next, the name on the
+bows of the _Costa Rica_ was painted out, the name boards at each end of
+her bridge removed and the raised-letter record of her identity and
+home port chipped off her stern; following which Cappy Ricks, Terence
+P. Reardon and Michael J. Murphy commended their souls to their Creator,
+and the _Costa Rica_ slipped leisurely through the ditch and out into
+the Caribbean Sea.
+
+Fourteen days later Mike Murphy dropped round to Cappy Ricks' cabin.
+"We're in the danger zone, sir," he announced. "And from now on we're
+liable to meet one of the larger type of U-boats that operate a couple
+of thousand miles from the base at Zeebrugge."
+
+"Very well," Cappy replied calmly. "Whether torpedoed or shelled, your
+instructions are the same. Forbid the wireless operator to send out a
+call for help, heave to immediately and get the men into the boats and
+away from the ship. Terry Reardon will remain on duty in the engine
+room, provided it isn't wrecked by a torpedo and the engine room
+crew killed; you and your gun crew will remain aboard and hide in the
+forecastle if it's action front, and in the auxiliary steering-gear
+house if it's action rear. I will relieve the quartermaster, take charge
+of the wheel and direct the action. If I see that there isn't going to
+be any action we'll put on life preservers, jump overboard and be picked
+up by our men in the boats. However, something tells me, Mike, that
+we're going to have a crack at--"
+
+At that very instant something rapped the _Costa Rica_ terrifically
+on the starboard side amidships and tore through her with a grinding,
+wrenching noise, followed by an explosion.
+
+"There's the crack you were speaking of, sir," Murphy yelled and started
+for the door. Cappy Ricks grasped him frantically by the arm. "Was that
+a shell or a torpedo?" he cried. His voice, thin and shrill with age,
+quavered now with excitement.
+
+"It was a shell," Murphy answered. "Went through the second cabin."
+
+"Then that German belongs to Alden P. Ricks," Cappy declared, and
+scurried for the pilot house. "Out and into life-boats!" he ordered the
+quartermaster, and shoved him away from the wheel. "Set her over to slow
+speed ahead," he called to the mate, who was standing stupidly, gazing
+at the white puffs of smoke that marked the position of the submarine
+two miles off the starboard bow. The mate came to life, jammed over the
+handle of the marine telegraph and, obeying an order bellowed to him by
+Mike Murphy from the main deck, abandoned the bridge for the boat deck,
+there to superintend the task of getting the men away from the ship.
+
+His first thrill of excitement having subsided, Cappy carefully drew
+the little half curtains on the pilot-house window, leaving a small
+slit through which he could observe the submarine without being observed
+himself, for it was no part of his plan to disclose to the enemy the
+fact that the ship was not entirely deserted--and that the submarine
+commander should jump to the conclusion that she was deserted by all
+hands was precisely the condition that Cappy desired to bring about.
+
+Down in the engine room the indomitable Terence Reardon, with one hand
+on the throttle and one eye on the steam gauge, put the _Costa Rica_
+under a dead-slow bell; she seemed scarcely to move, yet she had
+sufficient steerage way to enable Cappy to keep her pointed in the
+general direction of the submarine, the commander of which, seeing the
+crew of the Costa Rica scurrying for the boats, contented himself with
+sending over half a dozen shells for the purpose of hurrying them along;
+then he ceased firing, and when the boats pulled out from the ship in
+tow of a motor lifeboat and his powerful glasses showed neither guns nor
+sign of life upon the _Costa Rica's_ decks, he did exactly what Cappy
+Ricks figured he would do.
+
+He circled warily round his prize, but the absence of frantic wireless
+calls for help lulled his suspicions, and presently he bore down upon
+her, hove to two cable lengths abreast the wallowing hulk and watched
+her fully five minutes for a possible trap, for the absence of any name
+puzzled him. His suspicions subsided at length, however, the hatch
+in her turtle deck slid back and men appeared, dragging up a small
+collapsible boat.
+
+Slowly, slowly--so gradually that it seemed the old vessel was merely
+drifting, Cappy brought the _Costa Rica_ round until her bow pointed
+toward the submarine. Mike Murphy, standing just inside the forecastle
+door, kept his glance on the slit in the curtains on the pilot-house
+window-and presently Cappy motioned violently to him.
+
+"To the gun!" ordered the captain. Followed by his gun crew he dashed
+out of the forecastle and up the companion ladder to the forecastle
+head. A jerk at a lever connecting a cunningly constructed set of
+controls, and the false topsides on the forecastle head flopped to the
+deck, revealing Mike Murphy's six-inch gun. Cappy saw him deflect the
+gun while another man traversed it; for five seconds his eyes pressed
+the sight, and when the gun remained motionless Cappy knew that the hull
+of the submarine was looming fairly on the intersection of the cross
+wires in the sight. The range was point-blank!
+
+Quick as were Murphy and his crew, however, the gun crew of the
+submarine was quicker. Before the _Costa Rica's_ gun was properly laid,
+a shell from the submarine flew a foot over the heads of the Murphyites
+and burst fifty yards beyond the ship. "Ah, missed!" breathed Michael J.
+and raised his hand. The gunner released the firing pin and the six-inch
+projectile with which the gun had been loaded for two days crashed into
+the submarine at her water line.
+
+A terrific explosion followed the shot. Cappy Ricks, gazing popeyed
+with horror, saw the submarine disintegrate and disappear in a huge
+water-spout; when the water settled only a vast and widening smear of
+heavy fuel oil showed where she had been.
+
+From the forecastle head Michael Murphy yelled to Cappy Ricks. "Well,
+are you satisfied, sir?" On his part, Cappy, jubilant, even in the
+instant when he knew thirty new faces were already whining round the
+devil, dashed out on the bridge, seized the whistle cord and swung on
+it. A sad, nautical sob from the _Costa Rica's_ siren answered him, and
+ten seconds later Terence Reardon whistled up the bridge. Cappy let go
+the whistle cord and took up the speaking tube. "Hello," he piped.
+
+"What the divil do ye mean be blowin' that whistle?" roared Terence,
+thinking he was addressing the mate. "Wit' me alone in the engine
+room how d'ye expect me to keep shteam up on this ould hooker wit' you
+blowin' it off in the whistle! Take shame to yourself!"
+
+"Mike sunk the submarine! Mike sunk the submarine!" Cappy shrilled
+over and over again. "Come up, Terence, and see the oil. See the oil,
+Terence, see the oil! Mike sunk the submarine, Mike sunk it. Bully for
+Mike! Oh, bully! Bully! Bully! Mike sunk it, but I schemed it. Come up,
+Terence, I'm going to faint."
+
+And then, with shrill yips of delirious delight he slid down the
+companion to the main deck, to be gathered in Michael J. Murphy's
+arms and hugged and passed to the gun crew, who hoisted him to their
+shoulders and paraded joyously and blasphemously round the deck.
+
+"I told you he wouldn't use a torpedo if he could do the trick with
+shells," Gappy shouted. "I told you he'd board us if we didn't wireless
+for help. Ha, ha, ha! Te-hee!" And he burst into shrill cachinnations.
+"I out-thought the scoundrel--goin' to get a patent on my idea--turn
+it over to the Government--oh, Mike! Oh, Terence! Get the steward back
+aboard. We must have some liquor. They used to serve grog in the old
+navy after a victory, didn't they? Yi-yi-yi!"
+
+Terence P. Reardon came up and proffered his greasy paw, the while
+his quizzical glance swept the oily sea. "Well, sor," he remarked
+philosophically, "what wit' bein' a Christian I'm a little bit sorry
+the Dutchman lost, but back av that again I'm a little bit glad we won.
+Michael, do you get those blackguards o' mine down below as quick as ye
+can, or we'll be all day gettin' shteam up agin in this ould brute av a
+ship."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXI
+
+
+Two days passed uneventfully; then shortly before sunset on the third
+day the look-out reported a periscope about a thousand yards distant and
+three points off the port bow. Cappy Ricks' old knees promptly commenced
+to knock together with excitement.
+
+"Here's where Terence gets that torpedo if he doesn't come up out of the
+engine room," Mike Murphy remarked laconically, and promptly whistled
+Terence on the engine room speaking tube. "Come up or be blown up," he
+yelled.
+
+"Divil a fear! We're comin'," Terence replied.
+
+The chief and his crew had just reached the deck when the black shining
+turtleback of the submarine broke water.
+
+"They have to come to the surface to discharge a torpedo," Murphy
+explained to Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Great Godfrey! Here it comes!" shrilled Cappy, and watched, fascinated,
+the wake of the torpedo as it raced toward them. Just as Terence Reardon
+and his engine crew came panting up on the bridge, the old _Costa Rica_
+walked into it. "Me ingine room! I knew it!" cried Terence. Then the
+explosion came.
+
+From where he lay on his back, half stunned, Cappy Ricks saw water and
+wreckage fly high in the air. The _Costa Rica_ shivered. So did Cappy.
+Then the debris descended, and Cappy, choked with salt water, dimly
+realized that Terence Reardon had him in his arms and was carrying
+him down to the boat deck, where the motor lifeboat swung wide in the
+davits.
+
+"Here, take the boss from me," Terence commanded, and passed Cappy to a
+negro fireman, who carried the old man forward and laid him on a pile of
+blankets, previously placed there for just such an emergency.
+
+Then the lifeboat commenced to drop away from the towering black
+topside and Cappy was aware of Michael J. Murphy's face--white, anxious,
+terrified--gazing down at him from the ship's rail.
+
+"I'm just suffering from the shock," Cappy called. "Mike, you 'tend
+to business. Remember what I told you and tell the crew to keep their
+mouths shut. He'll do the natural thing and walk into your hand."
+
+Murphy, reassured, waved his hand, and with his gun crew fled aft to
+the little house that protected the auxiliary steering gear from the
+weather, where they concealed themselves. In the meantime the other
+lifeboats had been lowered away; the painter from the third boat was
+passed to the second, which in turn passed its painter to the motor
+boat, and the ship's company hauled clear of the shattered, sinking
+ship. The _Costa Rica_ was going down by the head, and Cappy, curious as
+any human being, sat up to watch his decoy disappear.
+
+The submarine steamed up to them. "What vessel is that?" her commander
+shouted from the conning tower in excellent English.
+
+"The American steamer _Soak-it-to-'em_, of Rotten Row," Cappy Ricks
+replied, "carrying a cargo of post holes. She has three decks and no
+bottom."
+
+"How do you spell the name?" the German bawled.
+
+"Can't hear you," Cappy fibbed. Then, _sotto voce_, to Mr. Reardon:
+"Kick her ahead, Terry."
+
+"How do you spell the name?" the submarine captain repeated.
+
+Cappy jibbered something unintelligible, and Mr. Reardon added to the
+puzzle by bellowing the information that the _p_ was silent, as in
+pneumonia. All this time the motor boat was putting distance between
+itself and the submarine, and the disgusted German, as a last resort,
+steamed away and circled round the rapidly lifting stern of the doomed
+_Costa Rica_, confident that there he would find the record of her
+identity and home port--information which, in his methodical German way,
+he desired to include in his official report to the Admiralty. And while
+he ratched slowly past, striving to find with his binoculars that which
+was not, Michael J. Murphy and his bully boys came aft with a rush, tore
+aside the tarpaulin that screened the stern gun and expeditiously opened
+fire. To Cappy Ricks' horror Murphy's first shot was a clean miss, and
+instantly the big sub started to submerge with a hoarse sucking sound
+that brought despair to Cappy Ricks' heart. She was halfway under before
+Murphy's gun was reloaded, but quite calmly the gun was traversed and
+deflected until the black stern flashed across the intersection of the
+wires in the sight; then Murphy's hand dropped and the gun roared.
+
+"That'll do nicely, lads," he told his crew. "Tore the stern off her
+that time; and from this dive she'll not come up. Cappy Ricks was right.
+He banked on human nature, and if curiosity isn't a human trait then I'm
+a Chinaman. Overboard with you, and away before the old girl goes under
+or we'll be sucked down in the vortex."
+
+And overboard they went, to be picked up five minutes later by Terence
+and Cappy in the motor lifeboat. "You were right, Mr. Ricks," cried
+Murphy as he scrambled into the boat. "Curiosity killed the cat!"
+
+"Yes, and it's blamed near killed me," Cappy declared feebly. "Some of
+that debris came down and hit me a slap on the dome--Jerusalem! There
+goes my decoy--peace to her bones!"
+
+The _Costa Rica_ dove to the Port of Missing Ships. Michael J. Murphy,
+however, did not turn to see her disappear; he was gazing, instead, at
+a thin red trickle that came from under Cappy's cap band and was running
+down his wizened neck. "Mr. Ricks," he said anxiously, "you're wounded."
+
+Cappy rubbed the sore spot, and when he withdrew his fingers they were
+bloody.
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet!" he gasped wonderingly. "You're right,
+Mike. I've been wounded in action with the enemies of my country! So
+help me, Mike. I've actually lived to shed my blood for the Stars and
+Stripes, like any other Ricks."
+
+He gazed wonderingly at Mike Murphy. "Now I can die happy," he murmured.
+"I've done my bit."
+
+"Yes, begorra," rumbled Terence P. Reardon, "an' if I have my way about
+it ye're honorably discharged from the service this minute, Misther
+Ricks. I'll gallivant no more wit' you in ye're ould breadbaskets av
+shteamers. 'Tis highly dangerous an' no business for a man of family."
+
+Mike Murphy grinned at his colleague. "For all that, Terence," he
+declared, "you must admit that Mr. Ricks' scheme for destroying
+submarines is the only practical one yet devised."
+
+"Thrue for ye, Michael. But shtill, like all fine invintions, the idjea
+has its dhrawbacks. Now if we could only be sure av a continyous supply
+av ould ships for use as decoys--"
+
+"I see a smudge of smoke," cried Gappy Ricks.
+
+Mike Murphy followed the old man's pointing finger. "There's only
+one kind of boat makes a smudge like that," he declared; "and it's a
+destroyer. Safe and well out of a glorious adventure. Faith, we're
+the lucky devils; and by this and by that, I'll enlist aboard that
+destroyer, now that I'm here on the job."
+
+"Do--an' good luck to you!" murmured Terence.
+
+"Amen," said Cappy Ricks, and fingered his trifling but honorable wound.
+"Gosh!" he murmured. "If Skinner could only know a thrill like this!"
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks Retires, by Peter B. Kyne
+#3 in our series by Peter B. Kyne
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+Title: Cappy Ricks Retires
+
+Author: Peter B. Kyne
+
+Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6020]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on October 19, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPPY RICKS RETIRES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: But, in time, Cappy would find her a rich husband]
+
+Cappy Ricks Retires
+
+_But that doesn't keep him from coming back stronger than ever_
+
+_By_ Peter B. Kyne
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+
+
+
+But, in time, Cappy would find her a rich husband
+
+_(Excerpt from the log of Capt. Matt Peasley:)_ "I am alone
+on the ship--all the rest are now dead--"
+
+He always shouted when telephoning
+
+"Two million dollars!" cried J. Augustus Redell
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAPPY RICKS RETIRES
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+
+
+If you have read previous tales of the Blue Star Navigation Company
+and the various brisk individuals connected therewith, you will
+recall one Michael J. Murphy, who first came to the attention
+of Cappy Ricks at the time he, the said Murphy, was chief kicker
+of the barkentine _Retriever_ under Captain Matt Peasley.
+Subsequently, when Matt Peasley presented in his person indubitable
+evidence of the wisdom of the old saw that you cannot keep a
+good man down, Michael J. became skipper of the _Retriever_.
+This berth he continued to occupy with pleasure and profit to all
+concerned, until a small financial tidal wave, which began with Matt
+Peasley's purchase, at a ridiculously low figure, of the Oriental
+Steamship Company's huge freighter, _Narcissus_, swept the cunning
+Matthew into the presidency of the Blue Star Navigation Company;
+whereupon Matt designed to take Murphy out of the _Retriever_
+and have him try his hand in steam as master of the _Narcissus_.
+
+The same financial tidal wave had swept Cappy Ricks out of the
+presidency of the Blue Star Navigation Company--presumably far
+up the beach to a place in the sun, where he was to bask for the
+remainder of his old age as president emeritus of all his companies.
+However, if there was one thing about Cappy you could depend
+upon absolutely it was the consistency of his inconsistency. For,
+having announced his retirement, his very next move was to bewail his
+inability to retire. He insisted upon clinging to the business like a
+barnacle to a ship, and was always very much in evidence whenever any
+deal of the slightest importance was about to be consummated. Indeed,
+he was never so thoroughly in command as when, his first burst of
+enthusiasm anent the acquisition of the _Narcissus_ at fifty per cent.
+of her value having passed, he discovered that his son-in-law planned
+to order Mike Murphy off the quarter-deck of the _Retriever_ onto the
+bridge of the _Narcissus_, while an unknown answering to the name of
+Terence Reardon had been selected for her chief engineer.
+
+Cappy listened to Matt Peasley's announcement; then with a
+propitiatory "Ahem! Hum! Harump-h-h-h!" he hitched himself forward in
+his chair and gazed at Matt over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+"Tell me, Matt," he demanded presently, "who is this man Reardon?
+I do not recall such an engineer in our employ--and I thought I
+knew them all."
+
+"He is not in our employ, sir. He has been chief engineer of the
+_Arab_ for the past eight years, and prior to that he was chief
+of the _Narcissus_. It was Reardon who told me what ailed her.
+She's a hog on coal, and the Oriental steamship people used to nag
+him about the fuel bills. Their port engineer didn't agree with
+Reardon as to what was wrong with her, so he left. He assures me
+that if her condensers are retubed she'll burn from seven to ten
+tons of coal less per day."
+
+"Hum! So you're going to give him the job for telling you something
+our own port engineer would have told us after an examination."
+
+"No, sir, I'm going to give him the job because he has earned
+it. He gave me some very valuable information about the wretched
+condition of her electric-light plant and a crack, cunningly
+concealed, in the after web of her crank shaft--"
+
+"Oh, by thunder," piped Cappy, "that's worth knowing!  Ship a new
+crank shaft, Matt, and save the Blue Star a salvage bill sooner or
+later."
+
+"All that inside information will not only save us money in
+the future," Matt continued, "but it enabled me to drive a closer
+bargain when dealing with MacCandless, of the Oriental Steamship
+Company. Consequently Terence Reardon gets the job. He's only making
+a hundred and fifty dollars a month in the _Arab_, and as he
+is a rattling good man--I've looked him up, sir--I've promised him
+a hundred and seventy-five a month in the _Narcissus_."
+
+"Oh, you've already promised him the job, eh?  Mistake, Matt,
+serious mistake. You say you looked him up, but I'll bet you a new
+hat there is one thing about him that you failed to investigate,
+and that is: What kind of Irish is he?"
+
+"Why, regular Irish, of course--mighty good Irish, I should say.
+Keen, observing, not too talkative, a hard worker, temperate in
+his habits and a crackajack engineer to boot."
+
+Cappy settled back wearily in his chair and favored his youthful
+partner with a glance of tolerant amusement.
+
+"Matt," he announced, "those are the qualifications we look for
+in an engineer, and it's been my experience that the Irish and the
+Scotch make the best marine engineers in the world. But when you've
+been in the shipping game as long as I have, young man, you'll
+know better than to pick two Irishmen as departmental chiefs in the
+same ship! I did it--once. There was a red-headed scoundrel named
+Dennis O'Leary who went from A.B. to master in the _Florence
+Ricks_. That fellow was a bulldog. He made up his mind he was
+going to be master of the _Florence_ and I couldn't stop him.
+Good man--damned good! And there was a black Irishman, John Rooney,
+in the _Amelia Ricks_.  Had ambitions just like O'Leary.
+He went from oiler to first assistant in the _Amelia_. Fine
+man--damned fine! So fine, in fact, that when the chief of the
+_Florence_ died I shifted Rooney to her immediately.  And what
+was the result? Why, riot, of course.  Matt, the Irish will fight
+anybody and anything, but they'll fight quicker, with less excuse
+and greater  delight, among themselves, than any other nationality!
+The _Florence Ricks_ carried a million feet of lumber, but
+she wasn't big enough for Rooney and O'Leary, so I fired them both,
+not being desirous of playing favorites.  Naturally, each blamed
+the other for the loss of his job, and without a word having been
+spoken they went out on the dock and fought the bloodiest draw I
+have ever seen on the San Francisco waterfront.  After they had been
+patched up at the Harbor Hospital,  both came and cussed me and
+told me I was an ingrate, so I hired them both back again, put them
+in different ships, slipped each of them a good, cheerful Russian
+Finn, and saved funeral expenses. That's what I got, Matt, for not
+asking those two what kind of Irish they were. Now, then, sonny,
+once more.  What kind of Irish is Terence Rearden?"
+
+"Why, I don't know, I tell you. He's just Irish."
+
+Cappy lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if praying for the great
+gift of patience.
+
+"Listen to the boy," he demanded of an imaginary bystander.
+"He doesn't know! Well, stick your head down over his engine-room
+grating some day, sing The Boyne Wather--and find out! Now, then,
+do you happen to know what kind of Irish Mike Murphy is?  You ought
+to. You were shipmates with him in the _Retriever_ long enough."
+
+"Oh, Mike's from Galway. He goes to mass on Sunday when he can."
+
+"Hum! If he's from Galway, where did he leave his brogue? He runs
+to the broad _a_ like an Englishman."
+
+"That's easily explained. Mike left his brogue in Galway. He came
+to this country when he was six years old and was raised in Boston.
+That's where he picked up his broad _a_."
+
+"That doesn't help a bit, Matt. He's Irish just the same, and what
+a Yankee like you don't know about the Irish would fill a book. You
+know, Matt, there are a few rare white men that can handle Chinamen
+successfully;  now and then you'll run across one that can handle
+niggers; but I have never yet met anybody who could figure the
+mental angles of the Irish except an Irishman. There's something
+in an Irishman that drives him into the bandwagon. He's got to be
+the boss, and if he can't be the boss he'll sit round and criticize.
+But if I want a man to handle Chinamen, or niggers, or Japs, or
+Bulgarians I'll advertise for an Irishman and take the first one
+that shows up. A young man like you, Matt, shouldn't monkey with
+these people. They're a wonderful race and very much misunderstood,
+and if you don't start 'em right on the job you'll always be in
+trouble. Now, Matt, I've always  done the hiring and firing for
+the Blue Star Navigation Company, and as a result I've had blamed
+little of it to do, considering the size of our fleet; consequently
+I'll just give these two Harps the Double-O. Have Murphy and Reardon
+at the office at nine o'clock to-morrow morning and I'll read them
+the riot act before turning them to."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+
+
+Cappy Ricks was at his office at eight-fifty the following morning. At
+eight-fifty-two Mr. Terence Reardon, plainly uncomfortable in a
+ready-made blue-serge Sunday suit purchased on the Embarcadero for
+twenty-five dollars, came into the office. He was wearing a celluloid
+collar, and a quite noticeable rattle as he shook hands with Cappy
+Ricks betrayed the fact that he also was wearing celluloid cuffs; for,
+notwithstanding the fact that he bathed twice a day, Mr. Reardon's
+Hibernian hide contained much of perspiration, coal dust, metal grit
+and lubricating oil, and such substances can always be washed off
+celluloid collars and cuffs. To his credit be it known that Terence
+Reardon knew his haberdashery was not _au fait_, for his wife never
+failed to remind him of it; but unfortunately he was the possessor of
+a pair of grimy hands that nothing on earth could ever make clean, and
+even when he washed them in benzine they always left black thumb
+prints on a linen collar during the process of adjustment. He had long
+since surrendered to his fate.
+
+At eight-fifty-four Mike Murphy arrived. Murphy was edging up into
+the forties, but still he was young enough at heart to take a keen
+interest in his personal appearance, and a tailor who belonged to
+Michael's council of the Knights of Columbus had decked him out in
+a suit of English tweeds of the latest cut and in most excellent
+taste.
+
+"Good morning, captain," Cappy Ricks greeted him.  "Ahead of time
+as usual. Meet Mr. Terence Reardon, late chief of the _Arab_.
+He is to be a shipmate of yours--chief of the _Narcissus_,
+you know.
+
+"Mr. Reardon, shake hands with Captain Mike Murphy. Captain Murphy
+has been in our employ a number of years as master of sail. The
+_Narcissus_ will be his first command in steam."
+
+"Terence Reardon, eh?" echoed Mike Murphy pleasantly.  "That sounds
+like a good name. Glad to meet you, chief. What part of the old
+country are you from? The West?"
+
+The wish was father to the thought, since Mike was from the West
+himself.
+
+"I'm from the Nort'--from Belfast," Mr. Reardon replied in a deep
+Kerry brogue, and extended a grimy paw upon the finger of which Mike
+Murphy observed a gold ring that proclaimed Mr. Terence Reardon--an
+Irishman, presumably a Catholic--one who had risen to the third
+degree in Freemasonry.
+
+Cappy Ricks saw that ring also, and started visibly.  A Knight
+Templar himself, Terence Reardon was the last person on earth in
+whom he expected to find a brother Mason. He glanced at Mike Murphy
+and saw that the skipper was looking, not at Mr. Reardon, but at
+the Masonic emblem.
+
+"Sit down, chief," Cappy hastened to interrupt.  "Have a chair,
+captain. Mr. Reardon, my son-in-law, Captain Peasley here, tells
+me you were chief of the _Narcissus_ when she was on the China
+run for the Oriental Steamship Company."
+
+Mr. Reardon sat down heavily, set his derby hat on the floor beside
+him and replied briefly: "I was."
+
+Captain Murphy excused himself and drew Matt Peasley out of the
+room. "God knows," he whispered hoarsely, "religion should never
+enter into the working of a ship, and I suppose I'll have to get
+along with that fellow; but did you mark the Masonic ring on the
+paw of the Far-Down? And on the right hand, too! The  jackass don't
+know enough to wear it on his left hand."
+
+"Why, what's wrong about being a Mason?" Matt protested. "Cappy's
+a Mason and so am I."
+
+"Nothing wrong about it--with you and Cappy Ricks. That's your
+privilege. You're Protestants."
+
+"Well, maybe the chief's a Protestant, too," Matt suggested, but
+Mike Murphy silenced him with a  sardonic smile.
+
+"With that name?" he queried, and laughed the brief, mirthless
+laugh of the man who knows. "And he says he's from Belfast! Man,
+I could cut that Kerry brogue with a belaying pin."
+
+"Why, Mike," Matt interrupted, "I never before suspected you were
+intolerant of a shipmate's private convictions. I must say this
+attitude of yours is disturbing."
+
+"Why, I'm not a bigot," Murphy protested virtuously.  "Who told
+you that?"
+
+"Why, you're a Catholic, and you resent Reardon because he's a
+Protestant."
+
+"Not a bit of it. You're a Protestant, and don't I love you like
+a brother?"
+
+Matt thought he saw the light. "Oh, I see," he replied. "It's
+because Reardon is an Irish Protestant."
+
+"Almost--but not quite. God knows I hate the Orangemen for what
+they did to me and mine, but at least they've been Protestant since
+the time of Henry VIII. But the lad inside there has no business
+to be a Protestant. The Lord intended him for a Catholic--and he
+knows it. He's a renegade. I don't blame you for being a Protestant,
+Matt. It's none of my business."
+
+Matt Peasley had plumbed the mystery at last. He had been reading
+a good deal in the daily papers about Home Rule for Ireland,
+the Irish Nationalists, the Ulster Volunteers, the Unionists, and
+so on, and in a vague way he had always understood that religious
+differences were at the bottom of it all. He realized now that it
+was something deeper than that--a relic of injustice and oppression;
+a hostility that had come to Mike Murphy as a heritage from his
+forbears--something he had imbibed at his mother's breast and was,
+for purposes of battle, a more vital issue than the interminable
+argument about the only safe road to heaven.
+
+"I see," Matt murmured. "Reardon, being Irish, has violated the
+national code of the Irish--"
+
+"You've said it, Matt. They're Tories at heart, every mother's son
+of them."
+
+"What do you mean--Tories?"
+
+"That they're for England, of course."
+
+"Well, I don't blame them. So am I. Aren't you, Mike?"
+
+"May God forgive you," Mike Murphy answered piously. "I am not.
+I'm for their enemies. I'm for anything that's against England.
+Ireland is not a colony. She's a nation. Man, man, you don't
+understand. Only an Irishman can, and he gets it at his mother's or
+his grandmother's knee--the word-of-mouth  history of his people,
+the history that isn't in the books! Do you think I can forget? Do
+you think I want to forget?"
+
+"No," Matt Peasley replied quietly; "I think you'll have to forget--
+in so far as Terence Reardon is concerned. This is the land of the
+free and the home of the brave, and even when you're outside the
+three-mile limit I want you to remember, Mike, that the good ship
+_Narcissus_ is under the American flag. The _Narcissus_ needs all her
+space for cargo, Mike. There is no room aboard her for a feud. Don't
+ever poke your nose into Terence Reardon's engine-room except on his
+invitation or for the purpose of locating a leak. Treat him with
+courtesy and do not discuss politics or religion when you meet him at
+table, which will be about the only opportunity you two will have to
+discuss anything; and if Reardon wants to talk religion or politics
+you change your feeding time and avoid meeting him. I've taken you out
+of the old _Retriever,_ Mike, where you've been earning a hundred and
+twenty-five dollars a month, to put you in the _Narcissus_ at two
+hundred and fifty. That is conclusive evidence that I'm for you. But
+Terence Reardon is a crackajack chief engineer, and I want you to
+remember that the Blue Star Navigation Company needs him in its
+business quite as much as it needs Michael J. Murphy, and if you two
+get scrapping I'm not going to take the trouble to investigate and
+place the blame. I'll just call you both up on the carpet and make you
+draw straws to see who quits."
+
+"Fair enough," replied the honest Murphy. "If I can't be good I'll
+be as good as I can."
+
+At that very instant Cappy Ricks was just discovering what kind of
+Irish Mr. Terence Reardon was.
+
+The most innocent remark brought him the information he sought.
+
+"Captain Murphy, whom you have just met, is to be master of the
+_Narcissus,_ chief," he explained. "He's a splendid fellow
+personally and a most capable navigator, and like you he's Irish.
+I'm sure you'll get along famously together."
+
+Cappy tried to smile away his apprehension, for a still small voice
+whispered to him and questioned the right of Terence Reardon to
+call him brother.
+
+Mr. Reardon's sole reply to this optimistic prophecy was a
+noncommittal grunt, accompanied by a slight outthrust and uplift of
+the chin, a pursing of the lips and the ghost of a sardonic little
+smile. Only an Irishman can get the right tempo to that grunt--and the
+tempo is everything. In the case of Terence Reardon it said
+distinctly: "I hope you're right, sir, but privately I have my
+doubts." However, not satisfied with pantomime, Mr. Reardon went a
+trifle farther--for reasons best known to himself. He laved the corner
+of his mouth with the tip of a tobacco-stained tongue and said
+presently: "I can't say, Misther Ricks, that I quite like the cut av
+that fella's jib."
+
+That was the Irish of it. A representative of any other race on
+earth would have employed the third person singular when referring
+to the absent Murphy; only an Irishman would have said "that fella,"
+and only a certain kind of Irishman could have managed to inject
+into such simple words such a note of scorn supernal. Cappy Ricks
+got the message--just like that.
+
+"Then stay off his bridge, Reardon," he warned the chief. "Your
+job is in the engine-room, so even if you and Captain Murphy do
+not like each other, there will be no excuse for friction. The only
+communication you need have with him is through the engine-room
+telegraph."
+
+"Then, sor," Terence Reardon replied respectfully, "I'll take it
+kindly av you to tell him to keep out av me engine-room. I'll have
+no skipper buttin' in on me, tellin' me how to run me engines an'
+askin' me why in this an' that I don't go aisy on the coal. Faith,
+I've had thim do it--the wanst--an' the wanst only. Begorra, I'd
+have brained thim wit' a monkey wrench if they tried it a second
+time."
+
+"On the other hand," Cappy remarked, "I've had to fire more than
+one chief engineer who couldn't cure himself of a habit of coming
+up on the bridge when the vessel got to port--to tell the skipper
+how to berth his ship against a strong flood tide. I suppose
+that while we have steamships the skippers will always wonder how
+the vessel can possibly make steerage way, considering the chief
+engineers, while the chiefs will never cease marvelling that such
+fine ships should be entrusted to a lot of Johnny Know-Nothings.
+However, Reardon, I might as well tell you that the Blue Star
+Navigation Company plays no favorites. When the chief and the
+skipper begin to interfere with the dividends, they look overside
+some bright day and see Alden P. Ricks waiting for them on the cap
+of the wharf. And when the ship is alongside, the said Ricks comes
+aboard with five bones in his pocket, and the said skipper and
+the said chief are invited into the dining saloon to roll the said
+bones--one flop and high man out. Yes, sir. Out! Out of the ship
+and out of the Blue Star employ--for ever."
+
+"I hear you, sor. I hearrd you the first time," Terence Reardon
+replied complacently and reached for his pipe. "All I ask from you
+is a square deal. I'll have it from the captain wit'out the askin'."
+
+Thus the Reardon breathing his defiance.
+
+"I'm glad we understand each other, chief. Just avoid arguments,
+political or religious, and treat the skipper with courtesy. Then
+you'll get along all right.  Now with reference to your salary.
+The union scale is one hundred and fifty dollars a month--"
+
+"Beggin' yer pardon for the intherruption, sor, but the young man
+promised me a hundhred an' siventy-five."
+
+"That was before the Blue Star Navigation Company took over the
+young man and his ship _Narcissus._ Hereafter you'll deal with
+the old man in such matters.  I'm going to give you two hundred
+a month, Reardon, and you are to keep the _Narcissus_ out of
+the shop.  Hear me, chief--out of the shop."
+
+"No man can ordher me to do me djooty," said Terence Reardon
+simply. "Tell the fine gintleman on the bridge to keep her out av
+the kelp, an' faith, she'll shtay out av the shop. Thank you kindly,
+sor. When do I go to wurrk?"
+
+"Your pay started this morning. The _Narcissus_ goes on Christy's
+ways in Oakland Harbor at the tip of the flood this afternoon. Get
+on the ship and stay on her. It's a day-and-night rush job to get
+her in commission, and you'll be paid time and a half while she's
+repairing. Good-day and good luck to you, chief.  Come in and see
+me whenever you get to port." And Cappy Ricks, most democratic of
+men, extended his hand to his newest employee. Terence Reardon took
+it in his huge paw that would never be clean any more, and held it
+for a moment, the while he looked fearlessly into Cappy's eyes.
+
+"'Tis a proud man I am to wurrk for you, sor," he said simply.
+"Tip-top serrvice for tip-top pay, an' by the Great Gun av Athlone,
+you'll get it from me, sor. If ever the ship is lost 'twill be no
+fault of mine."
+
+Mr. Reardon's manner, as he thus calmly exculpated himself from
+the penalty for future disaster, indicated quite clearly that Cappy
+Ricks, in such a contingency, might look to the man higher up--on
+the bridge, for instance.
+
+When Terence Reardon had departed Cappy Ricks called Mike Murphy
+into the room.
+
+"Now, captain," he began, "there are a few things I want to tell
+you. This man Reardon is a fine, loyal fellow, but he's touchy--"
+
+"I know all about him," Murphy interrupted with a slight emphasis
+on the pronoun. Unlike Mr. Reardon he employed the third person
+singular and did not say "that fella," for he had been raised in
+the United States of America.
+
+"I have already given the captain his instructions," Matt Peasley
+announced. "He understands the situation perfectly and will conduct
+himself accordingly."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+
+
+A small army of men swarmed over, under and through the huge
+_Narcissus_ for the next three weeks, and the hearts of Cappy
+Ricks and Matt Peasley were like to burst with pride as they stood
+on the bridge with Captain Mike Murphy, while he ran the vessel
+over the measured course to test her speed, and swung her in the
+bay while adjusting her compass.  She was as beautiful as money and
+paint could make her, and when Terence Reardon, in calm disregard
+of orders, came up on the bridge to announce his unbounded faith
+in the rejuvenated condensers and to predict a modest coal bill
+for the future, Mike Murphy so far forgot himself as to order the
+steward to bring up a bottle of something and begged Mr. Reardon
+to join him in three fingers of nepenthe to celebrate the occasion.
+
+"T'ank you, sor, but I never dhrink--on djooty," Mr. Reardon retorted
+with chill politeness, "nor," he added, "wit' me immejiate superiors."
+
+A superficial analysis of this remark will convince the most sceptical
+that Mr. Reardon, with true Hibernian adroitness, had managed to
+convey an insult without seeming to convey it.
+
+"Isn't that a pity!" the skipper replied. "We'll excuse you to
+attend to your duty, Mr. Reardon;" and he bowed the chief toward the
+companion leading to the boat deck. The latter departed, furious,
+with an uncomfortable feeling of having been out-generaled; and
+once a good Irishman and true has undergone that humiliation it is
+a safe bet that the Dove of Peace has lost her tail feathers.
+
+"That's an unmannerly chief engineer," Mike Murphy  announced
+blandly, "but for all that he's not without  his good points. He'll
+not waste money in his department."
+
+"A virtue which I trust you will imitate in yours, captain," Cappy
+Ricks snapped dryly. "Is Reardon working short-handed?"
+
+"Only while we're loading, when he'll need just enough men to keep
+steam up in the winches. When we go to sea, however, he'll have a
+full crew, but the fun of it is they'll be non-union men with the
+exception of the engineers and officers. The engineers will all
+belong to the Marine Engineers' Association and the mates to Harbor
+15, Masters' and Pilots' Association."
+
+"He'll do nothing of the sort," Matt Peasley declared quietly. "We
+have union crews in all our other steamers, and the unions will
+declare a strike on us if we put non-union men in the _Narcissus_."
+
+"Of course--if they find out. But they'll not. Besides, we're going
+to the Atlantic Coast, so why should we bring a high-priced crew
+into a low-priced market, Mr. Ricks? Leave it to me, sir. I'll load
+the ship with longshoremen entirely, and we'll sail with the crew of
+that German liner that came a few days ago to intern in Richardson's
+Bay until the European war is over."
+
+"I'm not partial to the German cause," Matt Peasley announced. "So
+I'll just veto that plan right now, Mike."
+
+"Matt, we're neutral," Cappy declared.
+
+"And it pays to ship those Germans, Matt," Murphy continued. "I
+confess I'm for the Germans, although not to such an extent that I'd
+go round offering them jobs just because they _are_ Germans.
+But the minute I heard about that interned boat I said to myself:
+'Now, here's a chance to save the _Narcissus_ some money. The
+crew of that liner will all be discharged now that she is interned.
+However, the local unions will not admit them to membership and
+they cannot work on any Pacific Coast boat unless they hold union
+cards. Consequently they must seek other occupations, and as the
+chances are these fellows do not speak English, they're up against
+it. Also, they are foreigners who have paid no head tax when coming
+into the country, because they are seamen. They have the right to
+land and stay ashore three months, if they state that it is their
+intention to ship out again within that period; but if they do
+not so ship, then the immigration authorities may deport them as
+paupers or for failure to pay the head tax; and in that event they
+will all be returned to the vessel that brought them here, and the
+owners of the vessel will be forced to intern them and care for
+them.' Under the circumstances, therefore, I concluded they would
+jump at a job in an American vessel, for the reason that under
+the American flag they would be reasonably safe; and even if the
+_Narcissus_ should be searched by a British cruiser, she would
+not dare take these Germans off her.  Remember, we had a war with
+England once for boarding our ships and removing seamen!"
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet," said Cappy Ricks, "there's
+something in that, Matt."
+
+"There's a splendid saving in the pay roll, let me tell you," the
+proud Murphy continued. "I took the matter up at once with the German
+skipper and he fixed it for me, and mighty glad he was to get his
+countrymen off his hands. We get all that liner's coal passers,
+oilers, firemen, six deckhands and four quartermasters at the scale of
+wages prevailing in Hamburg. I know what it is in marks, but I haven't
+figured it out in dollars and cents, although whatever it is it's a
+scandal! It almost cuts our pay roll in half."
+
+"Do you speak German, captain?" Cappy queried excitedly.
+
+"I do not, sir--more's the pity. But the four quartermasters speak
+fair English, and I have engaged two good German-American mates who
+speak German. Reardon has shipped German-American engineers and some
+of his coal passers and firemen speak fair English. I've got two
+Native Son Chinamen in the galley and a Cockney steward. We'll get
+along."
+
+"And a rattling fine idea, too," Cappy Ricks declared warmly. "Mike,
+my boy, you're a wonder. That's the spirit. Always keep down the
+overhead, Matt. That's what eats up the dividends."
+
+"Well, I wouldn't agree to it if the _Narcissus_ wasn't going to be
+engaged in neutral trade, or if she was carrying munitions of war to
+the Allies," Matt declared. "I'd be afraid some of Mike's Germans
+might blow up the ship."
+
+"Believe me," quoth Michael J. Murphy, "if she was engaged in
+freighting munitions to England, it'd be a smart German that would get
+a chance to blow her up. I think I'd scuttle her myself first."
+
+"Well, Mike, if your courage failed you," Cappy Ricks replied
+laughingly, "I think we could safely leave the job to Terence
+Reardon."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+
+
+On that first voyage the _Narcissus_ carried general cargo to northern
+ports on the West Coast. Then she dropped down to a nitrate port and
+loaded nitrate for New York, and about the time she passed through the
+Panama Canal the Blue Star Navigation Company wired its New York agent
+to provide some neutral business for her next voyage. Freights were
+soaring by this time, due to the scarcity of the foreign bottoms which
+formerly had carried Uncle Sam's goods to market, and Cappy Ricks and
+Matt Peasley knew the rates would increase from day to day, and that
+in consequence their New York agents would experience not the
+slightest difficulty in placing her--hence they delayed as long as
+they could placing her on the market.
+
+On the other hand, the New York agents, realizing that higher freight
+rates meant a correspondingly higher commission for them on the
+charter, held off until the _Narcissus_ had almost finished
+discharging at Hoboken before they closed with a fine old New York
+importing and exporting house for a cargo of soft coal from Norfolk,
+Virginia, to Manila, or Batavia. The charterers were undecided which
+of these two cities would be the port of discharge, and stipulated
+that the vessel was to call at Pernambuco, Brazil, for orders. The New
+York agents marvelled at this for--to them--very obvious reasons; but
+inasmuch as the charterers had offered a whopping freight rate and
+declined to do business on any other basis, and since further the
+agent concluded it was no part of his office to question the motives
+of a house that never before had been subjected to suspicion, he
+concluded to protect himself by leaving the decision to the owners of
+the _Narcissus_. Accordingly he wired them as follows:
+
+"Blue Star Navigation Company,
+
+"258 California St., San Francisco, Cal.
+
+"Have offer _Narcissus_, coal Norfolk Batavia or Manila, charterers
+undecided, Pernambuco for orders, ten dollars per ton. Shall we close?
+Answer.
+
+"SEABORN"
+
+2 boards, 1" x 8" and up, and too great a percentage of 4" x 6"-20'
+No. 1 clear. And there were mighty few clear twenty-foot logs coming
+into the boom these days.
+
+"Well, will a cat eat liver?" declared Cappy Ricks.  "I should say we
+do accept. Why, man, she'll make forty thousand dollars on the voyage,
+and whether she goes to Batavia or Manila, we're certain to get a
+cargo back."
+
+"All right, I'll wire acceptance," Skinner replied, and paused long
+enough to make a notation on the message: "O.K.--Ricks." Mr. Skinner
+meant nothing in particular by that. He was a model of efficiency, and
+that was his little way of placing the responsibility for the decision
+in the event that the wisdom of said decision should, at some future
+time, be questioned. Mr. Skinner never took unnecessary chances. He
+always played a safe game.
+
+It is necessary to state here also that Matt Peasley was not in the
+office when that telegram arrived from Seaborn & Company. If he had
+been this story would never have been written. He was down at Hunter's
+Point drydock, superintending the repairs to the steam schooner Amelia
+Ricks, which recently on a voyage to Seattle had essayed the overland
+route via Duxbury Reef. When Matt reached home that night he found his
+ingenious father-in-law fairly purring with contentment.
+
+"Well, Matt, old horse," Cappy piped, "I've chartered the Narcissus.
+Norfolk to Batavia or Manila with coal. Got a glorious price--ten
+dollars a ton. That's what we get for holding off until the last
+minute."
+
+"That's encouraging," Matt answered pleasantly, and asked no further
+questions. He was obsessed with the engines of the _Amelia Ricks_. It
+was going to cost a lot of money to put them in condition again, and
+he remarked as much to Cappy. Thus it happened that they entered into
+a discussion of other matters, and the good ship _Narcissus_, having
+finished discharging her cargo of nitrate, dropped down to Norfolk,
+where Captain Michael J. Murphy proceeded to let a stream of coal into
+her at a rate that promised to load her fully in less than four days.
+
+It is worthy of remark, at this juncture, that Mike Murphy and Terence
+Reardon had, by this time, cast aside all appearance of even
+shirt-sleeve diplomacy. Diplomatic relations had, in fact, been
+completely severed. Crossing the Gulf Stream, Murphy had called the
+engine-room on the speaking-tube and politely queried if Mr. Reardon
+didn't think he could get a few more revolutions out of her. To this
+Mr. Reardon had replied passionately that if such a thing were
+possible he would have done it long ago without waiting to be told. He
+desired to inform Captain Murphy that he knew his business; whereupon
+Murphy had replied that he never would have guessed Mr. Reardon was
+that intelligent, judging by the face of him. In disgust Mr. Reardon
+had replied: "Aw, go to--" and then tried to close the speaking-tube
+before the captain would have the opportunity to retort. However,
+Michael J. knew his own mind, and, like all the Irish, was a marvel at
+repartee. Quick as was Terence Reardon, therefore, Michael J. Murphy
+was quicker. Perhaps all of his message had not been delivered before
+Reardon closed the tube, but the chief got enough of it for all
+practical purposes.
+
+He caught one word--"Renegade"; a word so terrible that it left the
+chief engineer speechless with fury, and before he could call the
+skipper a baboon, the golden opportunity was gone. He closed the tube
+with a sigh.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+
+
+
+While the _Narcissus_ was loading, the Fates were keeping in reserve
+for Cappy Ricks, Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner a blow that was to stun
+them when it fell. About the time the _Narcissus_, fully loaded, was
+snoring out to sea past Old Point Comfort, Matt Peasley came across
+Seaborn & Company's telegram in the unanswered-correspondence tray on
+his desk. Five times he read it; and then, in the language of the
+poet, hell began to pop!
+
+Cappy Ricks came out of a gentle doze to find his big son-in-law
+waving the telegram under his nose.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me?" Matt Peasley bawled, for all the world as if
+Cappy was a very stupid mate and all the canvas had just been blown
+out of the bolt-ropes.
+
+"Why didn't you ask me, you big stiff?" shrilled Cappy. He didn't know
+what was coming, but instinct told him it was awful, so he resolved
+instantly to meet it with a brave front. "Don't you yell at me, young
+feller. Now then, what do you want to find out?"
+
+"Why didn't you tell me the _Narcissus_ was to drop in at Pernambuco
+for orders?" roared Matt wrathfully.
+
+Cappy pursed his lips and calmly rang for Mr.  Skinner. He eyed the
+general manager over the rims of his spectacles for fully thirty
+seconds. Then:
+
+"Skinner, what the devil's wrong with you of late?  It's getting so I
+can't trust you to do anything any more. Tut, tut! Not a peep out of
+you, sir. Now then, answer me: Why didn't you tell me, Skinner, that
+the _Narcissus_ was to call in at Pernambuco for orders?"
+
+"I read you the telegram, sir," Mr. Skinner replied coldly, and
+pointed to the notation: "O.K.--Ricks," the badge of his infernal
+efficiency. "I read that telegram to you, sir," he repeated, "and
+asked you if I should close. You said to close. I closed. That's all I
+know about it. You and Matt are in charge of the shipping and I
+decline to be dragged into any disputes originating in your
+department. All I have to say is that if you two can't run the
+shipping end and run it right, just turn it over to me and I'll run
+it--right!"
+
+Completely vindicated, Mr. Skinner struck a distinctly defiant
+attitude and awaited the next move on the part of Cappy. The latter,
+thoroughly crushed--for he knew the devilish Skinner never made any
+mistakes--looked up at his son-in-law.
+
+"Well," he demanded, "what's your grouch against Pernambuco?"
+
+"Forgive me for bawling you out that way," Matt replied, "but I guess
+you'd bawl, too, if somebody who should have known better had placed a
+fine ship in jeopardy for you. It just breaks me all up to think you
+may have lost my steamer _Narcissus_--the first steamer I ever owned
+too--and to be lost on her second voyage under the Blue Star flag--"
+
+"Our _Narcissus_, if you please," Cappy shrilled.  "You gibbering
+jackdaw! Out with it! Where do you get that stuff--lose your steamer
+on her second voyage! Why, she's snug in Norfolk this minute."
+
+"If she only is," Matt almost wailed, "she'll never be permitted to
+clear with that German crew aboard. Pernambuco for orders! Suffering
+sailor! And you, of all men, to put over a charter like that!
+Pernambuco! Pernambuco! Pernambuco--for--orders! Do you get it?"
+
+"No, I don't. It's over my head and into the bleachers."
+
+"I must say, my dear Matt," Mr. Skinner struck in blandly, "that I
+also fail to apprehend."
+
+"Didn't you two ever go to school?" Matt raved.  "Didn't you ever
+study geography? Why under the canopy should we waste our time and
+burn up our good coal steaming to Pernambuco, Brazil, South America,
+for orders? Let me put it to you two in words of one syllable: The
+_Narcissus_ is chartered to carry a cargo of coal from Norfolk,
+Virginia, to Batavia or Manila. At the time of charter--and
+sailing--the charterers are undecided which port she is to discharge
+at, so they ask us to step over to Pernambuco and find out. Now,
+whether the vessel discharges at Batavia or Manila, her course in the
+Atlantic Ocean while en route to either port is identical! She passes
+round the Cape of Good Hope, which is at the extreme south end of
+Africa. If her course, on the contrary, was round Cape Horn or through
+the Straits of Magellan there might be some sense in sending her over
+to the east coast of South America for orders. But whether she is
+ordered to Manila or Batavia, the fact remains that she must put in to
+Durban, South Africa, for fuel to continue her voyage; so why in the
+name of the Flying Dutchman couldn't the charterers cable the orders
+to Mike Murphy at Durban? The _Narcissus_ is worth a thousand dollars
+a day, so you waste a few thousand dollars worth of her time, at the
+very least, sending her to Pernambuco when a ten-dollar cablegram to
+Durban would have done the business! I suppose all you two brilliant
+shipping men could see was a ten-dollar-a-ton freight rate. Eh?
+You--landlubbers! A-a-g-r-r-h! I was never so angry since the day I
+was born."
+
+While Matt ranted on, Mr. Skinner's classic features had been slowly
+taking on the general color tones of a ripe old Edam cheese, while at
+the conclusion of Matt's oration Cappy Ricks' eyes were sticking out
+like twin semaphores. He clasped his hands.
+
+"By the Twelve Ragged Apostles!" he murmured in an awed voice.
+"There's a nigger in the woodpile."
+
+"I very greatly fear," Mr. Skinner chattered, "that you are mistaken,
+Mr. Ricks. Something tells me it's a German!"
+
+"Well, well, well!" Matt Peasley sneered. "Skinner, take the head of
+the class. Really, I believe I begin to pick up signs of human
+intelligence in this sea of maritime ignorance."
+
+"Oh, Matt, quit your jawing and break the news to me quickly," Cappy
+pleaded.
+
+"Haven't you been reading the papers, sir? Australian and Japanese
+warships have been hunting for the German Pacific fleet for the past
+few weeks, and the Germans have been on the dodge. Therefore, they've
+been burning coal. They are only allowed to remain in a neutral port
+twenty-four hours, and can only take on sufficient coal and stores to
+enable them to reach the nearest German port. Consequently, since they
+have been afraid to enter a neutral port, for fear of giving away
+their position, it follows that they've had to stay at sea--and
+naturally they have run short of coal. A few steamers have cleared
+from San Francisco with coal, ostensibly for discharge at Chilean or
+Mexican ports, but in reality for delivery to the German fleet at sea,
+but even with these few deliveries, there is a coal famine. And now
+that the Pacific is getting too hot for it, the general impression is
+that the German fleet will try to get through the Straits of Magellan,
+for, once in the Atlantic, coal will be easier to get. More ships, you
+know; more ship-owners willing to take a chance for wartime
+profits--and they say Brazil is rather friendly to the German cause.
+We will assume, therefore, that the German secret agents in this
+country realize it is inevitable that Von Spee's fleet must be forced
+into the Atlantic; hence, in anticipation of that extremity, they are
+arranging for the delivery of coal to those harassed cruisers. The
+agent in Pernambuco is probably in constant communication with the
+fleet by wireless; the fleet will probably come ranging up the coast
+of South America, destroying British commerce, or some of the ships
+may cross over to the Indian Ocean and join the _Emden_, raiding in
+those waters. So the German secret agents charter our huge
+_Narcissus_, load her with ten thousand tons of coal--"
+
+Matt Peasley paused and bent a beetling glance, first at Cappy Ricks
+and then at Skinner.
+
+"Was she to carry soft coal or anthracite?" he demanded.
+
+"I don't know," Mr. Skinner quavered.
+
+"Search me!" Cappy Ricks piped up sourly.
+
+"I thought so. For the sake of argument we'll assume it's soft coal,
+because anthracite has not as yet become popular as steamship fuel.
+Well, we will assume our vessel gets to Pernambuco. If, in the
+meantime, the German admiral wirelesses his Pernambuco agent, 'Send a
+jag of coal into the Indian Ocean,' to the Indian Ocean goes the
+_Narcissus_, and presently she finds a German warship or two or three
+ranging along in her course. They pick her up, help themselves to her
+coal, give Mike Murphy a certificate of confiscation for her cargo, to
+be handed to the owners, who in this case will be good, loyal sons of
+the Fatherland and offer no objection--"
+
+"I see," Cappy Ricks interrupted. "And if, on the other hand, the
+German admiral says, 'Send a jag of coal to meet us in a certain
+latitude and longitude off the River Plate,' and Mike Murphy objects,
+that German crew on our _Narcissus_ will just naturally lock Mike
+Murphy up in his cabin and take the vessel away from him! When they're
+through with her they'll give her back--"
+
+"I'm not so certain they'll have to lock him up in his cabin in order
+to get the ship," Mr. Skinner struck in, a note of alarm in his voice.
+"Mike Murphy is so pro-German--"
+
+"Ow! Wow! That hurts," Cappy wailed. "So he is! I never thought of
+that. And now that you speak of it, I recall it was his idea, getting
+that crew of Germans aboard! He said it would cut down expenses. Holy
+mackerel, Matt; do you think it was a frameup?"
+
+"Certainly I do, but--Mike Murphy wasn't in on it.  You can bank on
+that. No piratical foreigner will ever climb up on Mike Murphy's deck
+except over Mike Murphy's dead body. According to the president
+emeritus there is more than one kind of Irish, but I'll guarantee Mike
+Murphy isn't the double-crossing kind."
+
+A boy entered with a telegram. It was a day letter filed by Mike
+Murphy in Norfolk that morning, and Matt Peasley read it aloud:
+
+"Sailing at noon. Regret your failure take me into your confidence
+when deciding withdraw vessel from neutral trade. If orders send me to
+either of ports named in charter party and I am overhauled _en route_,
+that is your funeral. If orders conflict with charter party, as I
+suspect they may, that may be my funeral. Regretfully I shall resign
+at Pernambuco. You know your own business, and I cannot believe you
+would go it blind; if you change your mind before arrival Pernambuco,
+cable care American Consul and will do my best for you.
+
+"M. J. M."
+
+Gappy Ricks sprang into the air and tried to crack his aged ankles
+together.
+
+"Saved!" he croaked. "By the Holy Pink-toed Prophet! Saved! Bully for
+Mike Murphy! Say, when that fellow gets back, if I don't do something
+handsome for him--"
+
+Matt Peasley's scowls had been replaced by smiles.
+
+"God bless his old Mickedonian heart!" he said fervently. "He thinks
+the coal is for that British fleet reported to be _en route_ across
+the Atlantic to give battle to the German Pacific fleet; or for
+Admiral Craddock's Pacific fleet in case the Germans chase it back
+into the Atlantic. He knows that we know he is pro-German and for
+anything that's against England--and if he makes up his mind the coal
+is for the British fleet he'll resign before delivering it! By Judas,
+this would be funny if it wasn't so blamed serious."
+
+"To be forewarned is to be forearmed," Mr. Skinner quoted sagely. "It
+is most fortunate for us that Murphy's suspicions do us a grave
+injustice. We know now that he will call on the American consul at
+Pernambuco and ask for a cablegram."
+
+"Yes, and by thunder! we'll send it," Cappy declared joyously. "Cable
+him, Skinner, to fire that German crew so fast one might play checkers
+on their coat tails as they go overside."
+
+"I wish to heaven I could wireless him to put back to New York and
+ship a new crew," Matt Peasley mourned. "There's just a possibility
+that German crew of his may take over the ship on the high seas and
+not put into Pernambuco at all!"
+
+"We can only wait and pray," said Mr. Skinner piously.
+
+Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair and, pop-eyed with
+horror, gazed at his son-in-law over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+"Matt," he declared, "you're as cheerful as a funeral. Here we have
+this thing all settled, and you have to go to work and rip the silver
+lining out of our cloud of contentment. And the worst of it is, by
+golly, I think there's something in that theory of yours after all."
+
+"We should always be prepared to meet the worst, Mr. Ricks," Mr.
+Skinner admonished the president emeritus. "While piracy as a practice
+practically perished prior to the--"
+
+"Skinner! In the fiend's name, spare us this alliteration and humbug,"
+Cappy fairly shrieked. "You're driving me crazy. If it isn't
+platitude, it's your dog-gone habit of initialing things!" He placed
+his old elbows on his knees and bowed his head in his hands. "If I'm
+not the original Mr. Tight Wad!" he lamented. "But you must forgive
+me, Matt. I got in the habit of thinking of expense when I was young,
+and I've never gotten over it. You know how a habit gets a grip on a
+man, don't you, Matt? Oh, if you had only overruled me when I decided
+to save money by cutting out the wireless on the _Narcissus!_ I
+remember now you wanted it, and I said: 'Well, what's the use? The
+_Narcissus_ hasn't any passenger license and she doesn't have to have
+wireless--so why do something we don't have to do?' Skinner, you
+should have known enough--"
+
+"I am managing the lumber end of the business, Mr.  Ricks," Skinner
+retorted icily.
+
+"Never mind what you're managing. You're my balance wheel. I've raised
+you for that very purpose. I've been twenty-five years breaking you in
+to your job of relieving me of my business worries--and you don't do
+it. No, you don't, Skinner. Don't deny it, now. You don't. I pay you
+to boss me, but do you do it? No, sir. You let me have my own
+way--when I'm round you're afraid to say your soul's your own. You two
+boys know blamed well I'm an old man and that an old man will make
+mistakes. It is your duty to watch me. I pay the money, but I don't
+get the service. When Matt argued with me about the wireless you sided
+in with me, Skinner. You've got that infernal saving habit, too--drat
+you! Don't deny it, Skinner. I can see by the look in your eye you're
+fixing to contradict me. You're as miserable a miser as I am--afraid
+to spend five cents and play safe--you penurious--er--er--fellow!
+Skinner, if you ever forget yourself long enough to give three hoots
+in hell you'll want one of them back. See now what your niggardly
+policy has done for us? At a time when we'd hock our immortal souls
+for a wireless to talk to Mike Murphy and tell him things, where are
+we?" Cappy snapped his fingers. "Up Salt Creek--without a paddle!"
+
+"Come, come," Matt said soothingly, "As Skinner says, we can only wait
+and pray--"
+
+"All right. You two do the praying. I'm going to sit here and cuss."
+
+"Well, we'll hope for the best, Mr. Ricks. No more crying over spilled
+milk now. I'll figure out when the _Narcissus_ is due at Pernambuco
+and cable Mike to let his crew go. And you know, sir, even if he
+should not receive our cablegram, we have still one hope left. True,
+it is a forlorn one, but it's worth a small bet. The crew of the
+_Narcissus_ is not all German. There are--"
+
+"Two pro-German Irishmen, two disinterested Native Son Chinamen and a
+little runt of a Cockney steward," Cappy sneered. "And she carries a
+crew of forty, all told. Matt, those odds are too long for any bet of
+mine. Besides, Reardon and Murphy hate each other. A house divided
+against itself, you know--"
+
+"They might bang each other all over the main deck," Matt replied
+musingly, "but I'll bet they'll fight side by side for the ship. Of
+course we haven't known Terence Reardon very long; he may be a bad one
+after all; but Mike Murphy will go far. He's as cunning as a pet fox,
+and he may make up in strategy what he lacks in numbers."
+
+"The Irish are so filled with blarney--" Skinner began, but Cappy cut
+him short with a terrible look.
+
+"There goes some more of our silver lining," he rasped. "Skinner, what
+are you? A kill-joy? Now, just for that, I'm going to agree with Matt.
+A man has got to believe something in this world or go crazy, and I
+prefer to believe that the ship is safe with those two Hibernians
+aboard--win, lose or draw. And I want you two to quit picking on me; I
+don't want the word '_Narcissus_' mentioned in my presence until the
+ship is reported confiscated by the British, if her coal is for the
+Germans, or by the Germans, if her coal is for the British--which it
+isn't--or until Mike Murphy reports at Manila or Batavia and cables us
+for orders."
+
+"I'm with you there, sir," Matt Peasley declared.  "I'm going to bank
+on the Irish, and refuse to believe it possible for the _Nar_--for a
+certain vessel flying our house-flag to be caught by the wrong
+warship, a couple of thousand miles off her course and with coal, or
+evidences of coal, in her cargo space. Buck up, Skinner. A little
+Christian Science here, boy. Just make up your mind no man in
+authority is going to come over the rail of the--of a certain
+vessel--and ask Mike Murphy or his successor _pro tem._, for a look at
+his papers!"
+
+"If she ever is confiscated on an illegal errand," Skinner mourned,
+"and Mike Murphy has nothing more tangible than a dime-novel tale of
+coercion as an excuse for being in that latitude and longitude--well,
+we'll never get our bully big ship back again!"
+
+And for the first time in his life the efficient Mr.  Skinner so far
+forgot himself as to swear in the office!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+
+
+Throughout the long, lazy days that the _Narcissus_ rolled into the
+South, Captain Michael J. Murphy's alert brain was busy every spare
+moment, striving to discover, in the incomprehensible charter his
+owners had made for him, what the French call _la raison d'etre._ Not
+having any wireless, he was unable to keep in touch with the stirring
+events being enacted in Europe and on the high seas, as news of the
+said events filtered by him through space. While on the West Coast,
+where all the newspapers are printed in Spanish, he had been equally
+barred from keeping in touch with the war, although _en route_ through
+the Panama Canal he did his best to buy up all the old newspapers on
+the Zone.
+
+Upon arrival in New York with his cargo of nitrate, his anxiety to
+make a record in his first command in steam caused him to stay on the
+job every moment the _Narcissus_ was discharging, for Cappy Ricks had
+impressed upon him, as he impressed upon every skipper in the Blue
+Star employ, the fact that a slow boat is slow paying dividends.
+Consequently, the worthy captain had had no time to acquaint himself
+with the movements of the various fleets, and when he sent his day
+letter to his owners on the morning of the day he sailed from Norfolk
+for Pernambuco, his action was predicated, not on what he knew, but on
+what he felt. The sixth sense that all real sailors possess warned him
+that his cargo of coal was not destined for Batavia nor yet Manila,
+but for delivery at sea to the warships of some foreign nation.
+Devoutly Michael J. hoped it wasn't for the British fleet, since in
+such a contingency he would be cruelly torn between his love and duty.
+Consequently he resolved that, should the choice of alternatives be
+forced upon him, he would steer a middle course and resign his
+command.
+
+On the other hand, Mike Murphy knew Matt Peasley and Cappy Ricks to be
+intensely pro-Ally in their sympathies, despite the President's
+proclamation of neutrality and the polite requests of the
+motion-picture houses for their audiences to remain perfectly quiet
+while Field-Marshal von Hindenburg, Sir John French and General Joffre
+came on the screen and bowed. Under the circumstances, therefore,
+Murphy found it very difficult to suspect his owners of conspiring to
+deliver a cargo of coal to the German fleet at sea. No, indeed! Matt
+Peasley and Cappy Ricks were too intensely American for that; indeed,
+Cappy was always saying he hoped to see an American mercantile marine
+established before he should be gathered to the bosom of Abraham.
+
+From whatever angle the doughty skipper viewed it, therefore, the
+tangle became more and more incomprehensible. Cappy and Matt knew full
+well the rules of the game as promulgated by their Uncle Samuel, and
+the dire penalties for infraction. However, granted that they knew
+they could scheme successfully to evade punishment at the hands of
+their own government, Mike Murphy knew full well that no man could
+guarantee immunity from the right of a belligerent warship to visit
+and search, or from confiscation or months of demurrage in a prize
+court in the event that his ship's papers and the course the vessel
+was travelling failed to justify her presence in that particular
+longitude and latitude. And with the huge profits to be made in
+neutral trade, it seemed incomprehensible that a sound business man
+like Cappy Ricks should assume all these risks for the sake of a
+little extra money. Surely he must realize that if he sent her on an
+illegal errand her war-risk insurance would not hold.
+
+On the other hand, it appeared to Murphy that the charter must have
+been consummated with the full knowledge and consent of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, for the veriest tyro in the shipping business
+could not have failed to be suspicious of that clause in the charter
+party, stipulating a call at Pernambuco for orders. Of course there
+was the possibility that this acquiescence had been due to
+misrepresentation on the part of the New York agents or rank stupidity
+on the part of the Blue Star Navigation Company. But Seaborn & Company
+were above a shady deal. In putting through the charter for the Blue
+Star Navigation Company it might have occurred to them that all was
+not as it should be, but that was none of their business. If they
+spread their hand and permitted Cappy Ricks an unobstructed view, it
+was up to Cappy to decide and order them to close or reject the
+charter. As for stupidity on the part of the Blue Star Navigation
+Company, Murphy knew full well that stupidity was the crime Cappy
+Ricks found it hardest to forgive. Even had Cappy overlooked that
+suspicious clause in the charter, because of his age, Matt Peasley's
+youth and practical maritime knowledge should have offset Cappy's
+error; and even if both had erred, there still remained the matchless
+Skinner, as suspicious as a burglar, as keen as a razor, as infallible
+as a chronometer.
+
+No, it just didn't seem possible that the Blue Star Navigation Company
+had gone into the deal with eyes wide open; on the contrary, it seemed
+equally impossible that they had gone into it with their eyes shut.
+Consequently Michael J. decided to wake them up--provided they slept
+on the job--and to give them an opportunity to repent before it should
+be too late.
+
+He felt very much better after sending that telegram, but as the
+_Narcissus_ ploughed steadily south at the rate of two hundred and
+thirty miles a day, he began to grieve because he had no wireless to
+bring him a prompt reply; he berated himself for not waiting at the
+dock in Norfolk until his owners should have had an opportunity to
+answer; he abused himself for his timidity in questioning the judgment
+of his owners, for indeed he had been content to hint when more
+decisive action was demanded.
+
+How Michael J. Murphy yearned to discuss his problem with some one as
+loyal and devoted to the Blue Star Navigation Company as himself! His
+dignity as master of the _Narcissus_, however, bade him refrain from
+discussing the integrity of his owners with his mates--particularly
+with new mates, to whom the house-flag stood for naught but a symbol
+of monthly revenue. In fact, of the forty-one men under him, there was
+but one with whom he could, with entire dignity, discuss the matter.
+That man was Terence Reardon. But even here he was barred, for since
+he had called the chief engineer a renegade, the only possible
+discussion that could obtain between them now must be anything but
+academic; in consequence of which Michael J. Murphy was forced to hug
+his apprehensions to himself until the _Narcissus_ steamed slowly into
+the outer harbor of Pernambuco. Ten minutes after she dropped her big
+hook the skipper's suspicions were crystallized into certainty.
+
+Just as she came to anchor the steward appeared on deck, vociferously
+beating his triangle to announce supper--for at sea dinner is always
+supper.
+
+"Mr. Schultz," the captain called from the bridge, "as soon as your
+men have had their supper clear away the working boat. I'm going
+ashore."
+
+"Very vell, sir," Mr. Schultz replied heartily, and the captain went
+below to supper. He was scarcely seated before Mr. Schultz stuck his
+head in the dining saloon window and announced that a gentleman who
+claimed to represent the charterers was alongside in a launch and
+desired to come aboard and speak with him.
+
+"Let down the accommodation ladder, Mr. Schultz, and when the
+gentleman comes aboard, show him round to my state-room," the skipper
+answered. "I'll meet him there in a pig's whisper. It is probable he
+has come aboard with our orders, Mr. Schultz, so never mind clearing
+away the boat until I speak to you further about it. Steward, set an
+extra cover at my right. We may have a guest for supper."
+
+He hurried round to his state-room and donned a uniform coat to
+receive his visitor. Mr. Schultz came presently, bearing a
+visiting-card upon which was engraved the name: Mr. August Carl von
+Staden. Behind the mate a sailor with a bulging suitcase stood at
+attention; two more sailors stood behind the first, a steamer trunk
+between them, and as Captain Murphy stepped out on deck to greet his
+visitor he observed a tall, athletic, splendid-looking fellow coming
+leisurely toward him along the deck. The stranger carried a large
+Gladstone bag.
+
+The captain bowed. "I am the skipper of this big box," he announced
+pleasantly. "Murphy is my name."
+
+Herr von Staden shook hands and in most excellent English, without the
+slightest trace of a German accent, expressed his pleasure in the
+meeting. The captain cast a glance of frank curiosity at the bag von
+Staden carried and at the baggage the sailors had in tow. Von Staden
+interpreted the glance and smiled.
+
+"I have brought you your orders, Captain Murphy.  They are contained
+in this envelope;" and he handed a blank envelope to the captain.
+"However, I happened to know that one of the orders is to provide a
+berth for me. I'm to go with you as supercargo."
+
+"I hadn't heard anything about such a possibility," Mike Murphy
+replied, with just a shade of formality in his tones. He turned to the
+first mate: "Mr. Schultz, will you be good enough to see to it that
+Mr. von Staden's baggage is stowed in the owners' suite. Then tell the
+steward to see that our guest's quarters are put in order. Mr. von
+Staden, will you kindly step into my stateroom here while I read these
+orders?"
+
+Von Staden nodded. Entering the captain's room he sat down on the
+settee and lighted a gold-tipped cigarette, while Murphy tore open the
+envelope. It contained a cablegram reading as follows:
+
+"Von Staden & Ulrich,--Pernambuco, Brazil,--Ornillo Montevideo.
+
+"BLUESTAR."
+
+The captain reached for his telegraphic-code book.  When decoded the
+message read:
+
+"Instruct captain to proceed to Montevideo and there await further
+orders.
+
+"BLUE STAR NAVIGATION COMPANY."
+
+The cablegram had been filed at San Francisco two days before. Murphy
+looked keenly at his guest, who smoked tranquilly and returned the
+look without interest.
+
+"Mr. von Staden," the captain announced, "these are strange orders, in
+view of the fact that I cleared from New York for Manila or Batavia,
+via the Cape of Good Hope. It would be a sure sign of bad luck to the
+steamer _Narcissus_ if a British cruiser should pick her up off the
+coast of Uruguay."
+
+Von Staden smiled. "You are very direct, captain--very blunt indeed.
+This is a characteristic more Teutonic than Celtic, I believe, so I
+shall experience no embarrassment in being equally frank with you.
+Your cargo of coal is designed for our German Pacific fleet."
+
+"I guessed as much, sir. Nevertheless, my owners did not see fit to
+take me into their confidence in this illegal undertaking, Mr. von
+Staden--"
+
+"They did not think it necessary," von Staden interrupted smilingly.
+"In fact, Captain Peasley assured our people in New York that your
+sympathies are so overwhelming in favor of our cause we need
+anticipate no worry as to the course you would pursue. Moreover, in
+the event of a judicial inquiry it would be an advantage if you could
+say that you had had no voice in the matter, but had been instructed
+to obey the orders of the charterers--of whom we are the agents in
+Pernambuco. Perhaps this cablegram will allay your fears," and he drew
+an unopened cablegram from his pocket and handed it to Murphy. It was
+a code cablegram, signed by the Blue Star Navigation Company and
+addressed to Murphy in care of von Staden & Ulrich. When decoded it
+read:
+
+"Execute the orders of supercargo if possible. It may lead to further
+business. Charterers must take the risk. We do not think there is any
+risk. Please remain."
+
+This cablegram was signed "Matt."
+
+"Well, captain?" von Staden queried politely.
+
+"I don't like this business at all," the captain replied.  "My owners
+may think there is no risk, but I'm afraid. England controls the
+seas--"
+
+"We are in possession of the secret code of the British Navy, Captain
+Murphy. We know the approximate location of every British warship in
+the Atlantic and Pacific--and I assure you there is no risk."
+
+"Well, my boss informs me the charterers assume the risk, so I suppose
+I shouldn't worry over the Blue Star Navigation Company's end of the
+gamble. They know their own business, I dare say. Evidently they
+feared I might want to resign, so I have been asked to remain; and
+when Captain Peasley says 'please' to me, Mr. von Staden, I find it
+very, very hard to refuse."
+
+"I am glad, for the sake of our selfish interests, my dear captain, to
+find you so loyal to your owners' financial interests," the supercargo
+replied heartily. "Now that you have decided to remain, I need not
+point out to you the danger of a resignation at this time. It might
+lead to some unlooked-for developments which might prejudice your
+owners, although I think they have covered their tracks very
+effectually. Nevertheless, it is not well to take the slightest
+risk--"
+
+"Without being well paid for it," Murphy interrupted sneeringly. "My
+owners have been well paid for their risk, but where do I come in? I
+haven't been promised double my usual salary, or a split on the
+profits of the voyage; and I know if I were to command a vessel loaded
+with munitions of war I would not be asked to take her into the North
+Sea at the customary skipper's wages. I'd be offered a large bonus."
+
+"You forget, my dear captain, that your charterers assume all the
+risks. One of them was the risk that you might resign unless you
+received adequate compensation. I came aboard prepared to insure that
+risk," and he touched with his toe the Gladstone bag. "What do you say
+to $5,000?"
+
+Michael J. Murphy smiled. "It is pleasant, sir," he said, "to be paid
+$5,000 for doing something one yearns to do for nothing. I am not a
+hog. Five thousand dollars is sufficient. How do I get it--and when?"
+
+"In gold coin of the United States, or gold certificates of the same
+interesting country, my dear captain, and you may have it
+immediately." Again Herr von Staden kicked the Gladstone bag.
+
+"I'll take it in gold certificates. And in order that my dear old
+father and mother may have the benefit of my rascality in case
+anything unforeseen should arise to prevent my return, I suggest you
+hand over the boodle this minute, and I'll go ashore and express it
+home."
+
+"Captain Murphy, you are a man after my own heart--"
+
+"I am not a born fool, sir," Murphy interrupted.  "I'm accepting this
+money to be a fool, well knowing it is foolish to do it, for still I
+am taking a risk. I am thirty-eight years old, Mr. von Staden, and a
+skipper as young as that has his future all before him. Set him down
+on the beach, however, with his ticket revoked for all time--and his
+future is behind him."
+
+"In that event," the supercargo replied, "you might accept my
+assurance, without questioning my authority for such assurance, that
+you would have no difficulty in procuring a remunerative position
+ashore. The firm of von Staden & Ulrich could use you very handily."
+
+"Thank you, sir. Consider the matter settled. Will you come ashore
+with me, sir, and dine, or would you prefer to have supper aboard?"
+
+"I beg of you to be excused from going ashore, captain.  I have much
+to do to-night. The launch which brought me alongside has a
+knocked-down wireless plant aboard, and I am anxious to have it set up
+on your good ship _Narcissus_--a task I shall have to oversee
+personally. I shall probably work all night."
+
+"Praise be!" Michael J. Murphy answered heartily.  "We'll have some
+interest in life now. We can get all the war news, going and coming,
+can't we? Have you brought along an operator?"
+
+"I am an operator," the supercargo answered. "By the by, can you fix
+me up with a wireless room?"
+
+"There are two staterooms and a bath in the owners' suite which you
+will occupy. You can take your choice."
+
+"Good. I shall want to sleep close to my instrument."
+
+He opened the bag, counted out five one-thousand-dollar gold
+certificates of the United States of America and handed them to the
+captain.
+
+"The grand old rag," Michael J. murmured. "How many  rascals fight
+under the flag of old King Spondulics!"
+
+"I believe you have an Irish chief engineer," von Staden continued.
+"While I understand his sympathies are with us, still it seems only
+right to compensate--"
+
+"Suit yourself, Mr. von Staden."
+
+"What kind of a man is he, captain?"
+
+"I'd hate to tell you. I've had little to do with him, but that little
+was enough. We avoid each other as much as possible and never speak
+except in the line of duty. I make no bones of the fact that I think
+he's a scrub."
+
+Mr. von Staden nodded sagely. "Perhaps I'd better wait and get
+acquainted with him," he suggested, and closed his bag. Murphy showed
+him to his quarters, which the steward, under the first mate's
+supervision, was already setting in order; and, having decided to set
+up the wireless in the sleeping-room, von Staden accompanied the
+skipper round to superintend the taking on board of the wireless plant
+from the gasoline launch bobbing alongside. When the equipment was
+finally hoisted to the deck of the _Narcissus_, Michael J, Murphy
+boarded the launch and was whisked ashore for the avowed purpose of
+sending to his aged parents the fruits of his elastic conscience.
+
+Herr August Carl von Staden stood at the head of the accommodation
+ladder and smiled as the launch disappeared into the tropic twilight.
+Then he said something in German to Mr. Schultz, who laughed.
+Evidently it was very good news, for even the quartermaster at the
+companion ladder smiled covertly. It is possible they would not have
+felt so cheerful had they known that Michael J. Murphy's "dear old
+father and mother" had been sleeping in a Boston cemetery some fifteen
+years, and that their last words to Michael had been an exhortation to
+remember that manliness and honor must be his only heritage. And as
+the launch bore him shoreward, he looked back and grinned at the dim,
+duck-clad figure of von Staden.
+
+"Your agents looked me up, my hearty," he soliloquized, "and if they
+did their work half well, they told you I was an honest man. Only a
+crook comes with a bag of gold to talk illegitimate business with an
+honest man. I'm banking you're as crooked as a bed spring, and that
+there's something fishy about this enterprise. Cappy Ricks isn't fully
+informed, otherwise he wouldn't be doing business with a crook!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+
+
+Arrived ashore, Captain Murphy hurried to the cable office, registered
+his cable address, borrowed a code book and sent a code telegram to
+his owner. Then, having subsidized the operator liberally to rush it,
+Michael J. Murphy set out for a stroll among the limited attractions
+of Pernambuco. His cablegram would get through in two hours at the
+very most, and though the captain figured the Blue Star offices would
+be closed when the message reached San Francisco, still he was not
+discouraged. He knew the cable company always telephoned to Mr.
+Skinner, at his home, all Blue Star and Ricks Lumber & Logging
+messages arriving after office hours and before midnight. Naturally
+Skinner could be depended upon to have a copy of the code at home, and
+if he didn't Murphy knew he would rush down to the office, no matter
+what the hour, and decode it there. Of course he would cable his reply
+immediately, in which event it might be that the captain would have an
+answer shortly after midnight or by breakfast at the latest.
+
+He decided, therefore, to return to the cable office about midnight
+and await the reply to his cablegram. He had proceeded but a few
+blocks from the cable office, however, before a disturbing thought
+struck him with such force as to bring him to an abrupt pause.
+
+_His owners had cabled him in care of von Staden & Ulrich, when in the
+telegram sent just before sailing from Norfolk he had instructed them
+to cable him in care of the American consul._ Murphy's native
+shrewdness had made him suspicious of von Staden the instant the
+latter had so nonchalantly offered him a bribe of five thousand
+dollars, for the proffer of a bribe of that magnitude, without any
+preliminary bargaining, did not co-ordinate with Michael's idea of
+business. Certainly if the charterers had his owners "fixed," five
+thousand dollars was too much money to give their captain,
+particularly since there were available any number of capable rascals
+eager to do the job for twenty-five hundred, and the devil take the
+consequences.
+
+At the time von Staden had handed him the two cablegrams from the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, no suspicion that they were forgeries had
+entered the captain's mind; indeed, Matt Peasley's cablegram to him
+appeared at first blush to be an answer to the telegram which Murphy
+had sent his owners from Norfolk. In that telegram Murphy had
+mentioned his suspicions and hinted at unwarranted risks and the
+possibility of the circumstances attending the delivery of his cargo
+forcing his resignation. Matt's cablegram handed him by von Staden
+urged him to remain in the ship and assured him there were no risks;
+that if there were, the charterers assumed them. For the nonce,
+therefore, the master's mind did not dwell on any doubts as to the
+genuineness of the orders he had received, even though he decided
+instantly as a precautionary measure to confirm them before proceeding
+to carry them out. This, however, was merely because he was suspicious
+of von Staden and desired to obviate the possibility of that
+individual's double-crossing the Blue Star Navigation Company.
+
+Under the circumstances, therefore, he had considered it good policy
+to appear to fall readily in line, and, the better to disarm von
+Staden's watchfulness, he had demanded extra compensation. The ease
+with which the bribe had been secured having crystallized his
+suspicions, instantly he had cast about in his ingenious brain for a
+good sound excuse for going ashore and cabling his owners. To demand
+his bribe in advance and then announce that he would go ashore and
+express it to those dependent upon him, in case he failed to return
+and enjoy it himself, seemed to present a reason that would not be
+questioned and accordingly he had done so.
+
+Michael J. Murphy removed his uniform cap and thoughtfully scratched
+his head. "Now why," he demanded of the scented night, "did Matt cable
+me in care of that German firm when he must have known I would call on
+the American consul in the expectation of finding a cablegram there?"
+He shook his head. "They've got us winging, Michael," he soliloquized,
+"so I suppose the only thing to do is to play safe, call upon the
+American consul immediately if not sooner, and ask if he has a
+cablegram for us."
+
+And without further ado the worthy fellow sprang into a cab and was
+whirled away to the residence of the American consul. Yes, the consul
+had a cablegram for him, but it was at his office. Could Captain
+Murphy not wait until morning?
+
+Most emphatically Captain Murphy could not.  That cablegram was
+important; it meant a great deal of money and possibly life or death--
+
+Regretfully the consul entered the cab with the captain, drove to the
+consulate and delivered the cable-gram to the eager mariner, who swore
+when he discovered it was in cipher and not code, for this
+necessitated immediate return to the _Narcissus_ in order to obtain
+the key to the cipher. He thanked the consul and sent the latter home
+in the cab, while he hurried for the harbor front and the nearest boat
+landing. He was filled with apprehension, for indeed there was
+something radically wrong when his owners cabled him in the secret
+cipher of the Blue Star Navigation Company--something the company
+had, doubtless, never found occasion to do before. For while each
+vessel of the Blue Star fleet had a copy of the A.L. code aboard, with
+the cipher key typewritten and pasted on the second fly-leaf, not a
+single Blue Star skipper knew why it had been pasted there or why the
+company should have gone to the trouble of getting up any one of the
+hundreds of secret ciphers possible to be developed from the A. L.
+Telegraphic Code. This was a secret that lay locked in the breast of
+Mr. Skinner. It is probable, however, that it had occurred to him in
+an idle moment that a secret cipher might come in handy some day, and
+Mr. Skinner believed in being prepared for emergencies.
+
+The captain bade the launch wait for him at the accommodation ladder,
+while he hurried round to his state-room and promptly fell to work on
+Mr. Skinner's cipher cablegram. When he had laboriously deciphered it
+this is what he read:
+
+"Unaccountably failed note suspicious clause charter.  Something
+rotten. We are playing square game. Think plot deliver coal German
+fleet South Atlantic. Discharge your German crew immediately, first
+notifying Brazilian authorities and American consul. Have help when
+you notify them game is off, otherwise may take vessel away from
+you. They will stop at nothing; fleet desperate for coal. Cable
+acknowledgment these orders; also cable when orders fulfilled. Very
+anxious.       "BLUE STAR NAVIGATION COMPANY."
+
+"Ah-h-h!" breathed Michael J. Murphy softly, but very distinctly. "So
+that's the game, eh?" His big square chin set viciously;
+subconsciously he clenched his hard fist and shook it at his enemies.
+"The cunning Dutch devils!" he murmured very audibly, and at that
+precise instant Herr August Carl von Staden stood in the open doorway.
+He coughed, and Murphy glanced up from the translation of the cipher
+message just in time to note a swift shadow pass over the supercargo's
+face, a shadow composed of equal parts of suspicion, embarrassment and
+desperation.
+
+"You have returned very promptly, captain," he remarked smoothly, and
+then his restless glance fell on the cablegram and beside it the
+scratch pad and the two parallel columns of words scrawled on it. A
+man of far less intelligence than von Staden possessed would, have
+realized as quickly that the first column was composed of cipher
+words, while the second column was the translation. From this
+tell-tale evidence his suspicious glance lifted to the skipper's face,
+and he read in Michael J. Murphy's black eyes the wild rage which no
+Irishman could have concealed--which the majority of his race would
+not even have taken the trouble to endeavor to conceal.
+
+In that glance each learned the other's secret; each realized that the
+success of his plans depended on the silence of the other; each
+resolved instantly to procure that silence at any cost. Von Staden
+reached for his hip pocket, but before he could draw his automatic
+pistol and cover the skipper, Michael J. Murphy had hurled ten pounds
+of code book into the geometric centre of the supercargo's face. It
+was the first weapon his hand closed over, and he did not disdain it.
+The instant it landed and von Staden reeled before the blow, Murphy
+came out of his state-room with a scuttering rush and von Staden fired
+as he came. The captain felt the sting of the bullet as it creased the
+top of his left shoulder; then his right fist came up in a blow that
+started at his hip and landed fairly under the supercargo's heart. Von
+Staden grunted once, the pistol dropped clattering to the deck and he
+folded up like an accordion. For him the battle was over.
+
+Not so, however, with Mike Murphy. Gone to the winds now was the
+caution he would have exercised had the attack been delayed two
+seconds longer; forgotten was the shrewd advice of his owners to have
+help standing by when the ship cleaning should commence. Michael J.
+Murphy thought of nothing but blood, for the fight had started now and
+he was loath to have it cease.
+
+"You bloody murderer!" he growled. "You'd kill me and steal my ship,
+would you?" And with the reckless abandon of a sailor he planted the
+broad toe of a number nine boot in Herr von Staden's short ribs,
+hoping to break a few, for in the process of working his way up from
+the bottom Michael had fought under deep-sea rules too often to be
+squeamish now. So he kicked Herr von Staden again, after which a
+glimmer of reason penetrated his hot head and he walked to pick up the
+supercargo's automatic pistol. Then something landed on him from above
+and he went down backward. His head struck the deck with a resounding
+thump, and Michael J. Murphy had a through ticket to the Land of Nod
+and no stop-over privileges.
+
+The something which had thus inopportunely dropped on Michael was Mr.
+Henckel, the second mate. He had gone up on the bridge to see if the
+canvas jacket had been dropped over the brightly polished brass
+engine-room telegraph apparatus at each end of the bridge, in order to
+protect it from the tropical dew. While thus engaged he had heard the
+shot which von Staden fired at the captain, and forthwith had run
+across the top of the house and peered over to discover what was
+happening on the deck below. Discovering the captain in the act of
+kicking a distinguished son of the Fatherland in that fragile section
+of the human anatomy frequently referred to as the "slats," the second
+mate had stood a moment, immobile with horror, the while he gazed upon
+the fearful scene. Then the captain walked to a spot on the deck
+directly beneath the position occupied by his subordinate, and stooped
+to pick something up.
+
+Even their enemies are proud of the dash and gallantry, the utter
+contempt for consequences, which animate the German going into battle,
+and Mr. Henckel, second mate of the S.S. _Narcissus_, was as fine a
+German as one could find in a day's travel. The instant Michael J.
+Murphy stooped to recover von Staden's automatic pistol, therefore,
+Mr. Henckel saw his duty and, in the language of the elect, "he went
+an' done it"--the which was absurdly simple. He merely leaped down off
+the house on top of the captain, and forthwith deep peace and profound
+silence brooded over the good ship _Narcissus_, of San Francisco.
+
+It is worthy of remark here that Mr. Terence Reardon who, had he been
+present, might have had something to say--not that his action would
+indicate that he despised Mike Murphy the less, but that he loved his
+owners more--was unfortunately down in the engine-room. Consequently
+he failed to hear the shot, and when he came up on deck the victims of
+the affray had been collected and taken thence, a seaman with a mop
+had removed the profuse evidence which Mike Murphy's rich red blood
+had furnished and Mr. Schultz, the first mate, was on the bridge,
+while Mr. Henckel was up on the forecastle head with his gang, waiting
+for the order to break out the anchor.
+
+Presently a seaman came up on the bridge and reported that the light
+in Mr. Reardon's state-room had been out fifteen minutes. So Mr.
+Schultz waited an hour longer to make certain the chief engineer would
+be asleep; whereupon commenced a harsh, discordant tune--the music of
+the anchor chain paying in through the hawse pipe. When it ceased Mr.
+Schultz stepped to the marine telegraph; a bell jingled in the bowels
+of the _Narcissus_; an instant later all the lights aboard her went
+out as the first assistant engineer threw off the switch, and silently
+in the heavy velvet gloom the great vessel slipped out of Pernambuco
+harbor and headed south.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+
+
+Just about the time the _Narcissus_ was kicking ahead at nine knots,
+in distant San Francisco the cable company was getting Mr. Skinner out
+of bed to dictate to him over the telephone a message which had just
+arrived from Pernambuco.
+
+"Ah!" murmured the incomparable Skinner as he donned a dressing gown
+and slippers and descended to his library to decode the cablegram.
+"The luck of the Blue Star flag still holds. That belligerent and
+highly intelligent fellow Murphy has received our cablegram, sent him
+in care of the American consul, and in accordance with my instructions
+he is acknowledging its receipt. Hum-m-m! The first word is 'oriana.'
+Let me turn to 'oriana.' Hum-m! 'I have an order presumably emanating
+from blank.' Ah, yes, the next word is 'Buestar,' the cable address of
+the Blue Star Navigation Company. Well, well, well, the foxy fellow!
+After wiring us to cable him, he gets our cable and then cables us to
+confirm it! Caution is a virtue, but this brand is too high-priced.
+The next word is 'osculo'."
+
+Mr. Skinner turned to "osculo" and discovered that it meant "I am
+ordered to--" The next word in the cablegram was "Montevideo."
+
+"Good heavens!" Mr. Skinner gasped. "He has received orders,
+presumably emanating from us, ordering him to Montevideo! Can it be
+possible that Mr. Ricks or Matt Peasley has sent him a cablegram
+without my knowledge? I must read further."
+
+He did, and having done so he discovered that, in addition to being
+ordered to Montevideo, Mike Murphy wanted to know if it was all right
+and if von Staden and Ulrich--presumably German--were to be trusted;
+that he would remain in command at the company's request, although he
+considered such request unreasonable, even if it could be granted
+without risk. Also, he wanted these instructions confirmed and was
+anxiously awaiting an answer.
+
+"Well, I'm certain of one thing," Mr. Skinner soliloquized after
+reading this extraordinary message: "Murphy has not been to the
+American consul's office for the cablegram I sent him several days
+ago. Evidently there is mischief afoot. However, there is nothing to
+be gained by cabling him again in care of the American consul, so I'll
+just assume that he has registered his cable address with the cable
+company; hence, if I cable him to his cable address the message will
+be delivered to him aboard the _Narcissus_. And since he says he is
+anxiously awaiting an answer, I'll relieve his anxiety with all
+possible speed and send him an answer immediately."
+
+Whereupon Mr. Skinner wasted several dollars cabling Mike Murphy that
+the Blue Star Navigation had not, to his knowledge, cabled him any
+instructions save those sent in care of the American consul; that von
+Staden and Ulrich were unknown to him, and to be very careful not to
+lose the ship. This message Mr. Skinner dictated over the telephone to
+the telegraph office and asked them to rush it. Evidently they did so,
+for just as Cappy Ricks arrived in the office the following morning,
+word was received from the telegraph company that owing to the
+departure of the _Narcissus_ from Pernambuco the night before, the
+Blue Star Navigation Company's cablegram had not been delivered.
+
+"Well, Skinner," Cappy chirped as he sat in at his desk and lighted a
+cigar, "what's the news around the shop this fine morning? Any word
+from Murphy?"
+
+"Yes--and no," Mr. Skinner replied, and laid his information before
+Cappy for perusal. Cappy read it all twice, then slid out to the edge
+of his chair, placed his hands on his knees and looked at Mr. Skinner
+over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he said solemnly, "this is certainly hell!
+Cable the American consul in Pernambuco and ask him if Murphy received
+the cablegram we sent in care of the consulate. And, in the meantime,
+don't whisper a word of this disquieting information to Matt Peasley.
+Time enough to cross a bridge, Skinner, when you come to it."
+
+Mr. Skinner promptly filed a cablegram to the American consul, and
+just before the office closed they got about forty dollars' worth of
+reply, informing them that Captain Murphy had appeared at the
+consulate greatly excited the night previous; that he had declared the
+cablegram awaiting him might mean life or death--certainly a large sum
+of money; that he had been given the cablegram and had gone aboard
+ship to look up his cipher key. He had not returned and the ship was
+not in the harbor.
+
+"Let me see the carbon copy of the cablegram you sent Murphy in care
+of the American consul," Cappy demanded. Mr. Skinner with a sinking
+heart obeyed.
+
+"Skinner," said Cappy, "do I understand you sent this message in
+cipher, which necessitated on the part of our captain a trip back to
+his ship before he could decipher it? Why didn't you send him the
+message in regular code? He would then have decoded it right in the
+consulate, or at best he could have gone to the cable office and
+borrowed a code book from them."
+
+"I sent it in our secret cipher," Mr. Skinner faltered.  "It was
+delicate business--quite--er--an international complication, as it
+were, and in the event of unpleasant developments--Well, how did I
+know but that some German might be on the key at the cable office when
+the message arrived there for Murphy--"
+
+"Quite right, Skinner, my boy, quite right," Cappy interrupted sadly.
+"The only trouble with you, Skinner, is that you're too danged
+efficient. You look so far into the future you're always gumming up
+the present." He sighed.
+
+"Why, what do you think--" Skinner began, but Cappy silenced him with
+an autocratic finger.
+
+"I do not think, Skinner, I know. Had it not been for your damnable
+cipher message, Murphy would have got your warning ashore instead of
+being forced to go back to the ship for it. Having got it ashore he
+would have taken care to warn the Brazilian authorities and they would
+have been on watch and prevented the ship from leaving. As I view the
+situation, Mike went aboard, deciphered your message and got ripping
+mad. Von Staden and Ulrich were probably aboard, and hot-headed Mike
+probably undertook to throw them overboard single-handed--and failed.
+His body is doubtless feeding the fishes in Pernambuco harbor this
+minute, and our lovely--big--_Narcissus_--the pride of--the Blue Star
+fleet--"
+
+"Shall I tell Captain Peasley?" Mr. Skinner faltered.
+
+"Yes, tell him. He's bound to find out sooner or later. Skinner, I
+could stand the loss of the ship, but what breaks me all up is the
+thought that after forty years of honorable business my friends and my
+enemies might suspect me of being a filibuster. I, Alden P. Ricks,
+whose great-grandfather died at Yorktown, whose grandfather was killed
+at Lundy's Lane, whose father won a medal of honor at Chapultepec--I,
+Alden P. Ricks, who had to belong to the Home Guard because I was such
+a little runt they wouldn't take me in the Civil War--to think that I
+should attain to seventy years and even be suspected of staining the
+flag of my country for the sake of a few dirty dollars--after all the
+Ricks blood that has been shed for that flag! Horrible!"
+
+Mr. Skinner turned away for, man and boy, he had spent twenty-five
+years under Cappy Ricks, and he loved him. He could not bear to see
+the old man suffer.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+
+
+When Michael J. Murphy returned to consciousness he found himself in
+his berth, although for all the effort he made to verify this fact it
+might have been Mr. Reardon's. For fully half an hour he lay there,
+gradually straightening out the tangle in his intellect, and presently
+he was aware that the back of his head was very sore and ached, so he
+put up his hand to rub it and found a lump as large as a walnut. His
+right shoulder was numb and he was unable to move it, although this
+would not have surprised him had he been aware that a hundred and
+eighty pounds of Teutonic masculinity had landed on that shoulder with
+both feet and dislocated it. As it was, the skipper wondered vaguely
+if the ship's funnel had fallen over on him. His right side ached
+externally, and when he sighed it ached internally. That was a broken
+rib tickling his lung, for, while he was in blissful ignorance of the
+reason therefor, the chronicler of this tale can serve no good purpose
+by concealing the true facts in the case. Immediately upon regaining
+consciousness, Herr August Carl von Staden had insisted upon returning
+Michael J. Murphy's kicks with compound interest.
+
+"Holy mackerel!" the skipper murmured. "I feel like I've been fed into
+a concrete mixer. The only injury I can account for is my left
+shoulder, where that supercargo shot me."
+
+After spending another half hour in mild speculation on these
+phenomena he was aware of an added impediment in breathing, so he put
+his hand up to his nose and found it clogged with blood. His luxuriant
+black mustache prevented an extended examination of his upper lip, but
+nevertheless, something told him it was split. A hard foreign
+substance lying between his right cheek and the inferior maxillary he
+concluded must be the pit of an olive left over from dinner.
+Subsequently, however, he discovered it was one of his own teeth. So
+he swore a mighty oath and felt considerably better.
+
+"This is certainly mutiny on the high seas and punishable by hanging,"
+he soliloquized. "I wonder if Cappy Ricks would know me now;" and he
+reached up to turn the switch of the electric light over his berth. He
+turned the switch, but the light did not come on, and while he lay
+considering this state of affairs, he was aware that something that
+was not his head was throbbing in the ship. He decided presently that
+it was her engines. From the steady rhythmic pulsations he realized
+the vessel was being driven full speed ahead; and since he could not
+recall having given any orders to that effect, he was not long in
+arriving at the correct answer to the riddle--whereupon Michael J.
+Murphy did what every shipmaster does when he loses the ship he loves
+and finds himself ravished of his reputation as a sane and careful
+skipper. He wept!
+
+Those who know the breed will bid you beware the Irish when they weep
+from any cause save grief or sympathy.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+
+
+Cappy Ricks, who claimed to know Mike Murphy's kind of Irish,
+doubtless would have been extremely gratified had he been granted a
+peep at the battered, bleeding, weeping wreck of his faithful Michael
+as the pride of the Blue Star fleet rolled south to meet the grey sea
+rovers of the Fatherland and deliver the cargo of coal that meant so
+much to them. The sight might have aroused some hope in Cappy's heavy
+heart, he being by nature inconsistent and always seeing a profit
+where others found naught but a deficit. However, though Cappy was
+variously gifted he was not a clairvoyant, in consequence of which he
+spent a very sleepless night following the receipt of that windy
+cablegram from the American consul. He dined at his club, and when it
+was time for him to leave and his daughter sent her car for him, he
+lacked the courage to go home and face his son-in-law. So he spent the
+night at the club and came down to the office about noon, hoping Matt
+Peasley would have recovered from the shock by that time. The latter
+was waiting for him, and came into Cappy's sanctum immediately to hold
+a post-mortem.
+
+"Matthew, my dear boy," said Cappy miserably, "this is terrible."
+
+"I think we should take the matter up immediately with the State
+Department," Matt replied. "There may be a United States warship in
+those waters, and she could be instructed by wireless to endeavor to
+intercept the _Narcissus._ We can prove a clean bill of health with
+those cablegrams, and get back our ship."
+
+"Yes--from our own Government, of course. But, oh, Matt, if old Johnny
+Bull ever gets his horns into her we can kiss her good-bye. We can't
+bring forward any evidence to alibi that German crew on a ship so far
+off her course and loaded with contraband."
+
+"Well, I know if I were skippering a British warship and picked up the
+_Narcissus,_ her owners would find I was born and bred in Missouri,"
+the honest Matt admitted. "By the way, have you read this morning's
+papers?"
+
+"No, Matt. I've felt too blamed miserable about this _Narcissus_
+affair."
+
+"Well, the _Scharnhorst_, the _Gneisenau_, the _Leipzig,_, the
+_Dresden_ and the _Nurnberg_ met a British fleet under Admiral
+Craddock, away down off Coronel, Chile. The British were cleaned for
+fair."
+
+"You don't tell me!"
+
+"I do tell you. And I'll bet my immortal soul that German fleet is
+heading for the entrance to Magellan this minute. If I were a
+religious man I'd be praying for clear weather so they'll find the
+entrance without any trouble."
+
+"I hope they run ashore and drown every man Jack!" cried Cappy
+fiercely.
+
+"I do not. You will note that our charterers tried to induce Mike to
+go to Montevideo for orders. That was because they expected to lie
+snug at Montevideo and be within striking distance of a designated
+meeting place in the South Atlantic when the German fleet should pass
+through Magellan from the Pacific. Remember that for several weeks the
+German fleet has managed to lose itself in the Pacific, but now that
+the British fleet has stumbled onto it and forced an engagement, the
+Australian and Japanese cruisers will all be headed for the south
+coast of Chile to make reprisal. We know the Germans are short of
+coal; doubtless some of the fleet have suffered in the engagement with
+Admiral Craddock's ships, so it's a safe bet they'll run into the
+Atlantic now and raid the Falkland Islands--by the way, a British
+possession. They will hope to find coal and stores there, which, with
+the cargo of the _Narcissus,_ will enable them to continue raiding.
+
+"Of course they will try to accomplish this before England sends a
+fleet to avenge Craddock--and I'm hoping the Germans will succeed,
+for, if they do, they will surely be decent enough to run our
+_Narcissus_ into some South American port and give us an opportunity
+to get her back again. On the other hand, if the Germans delay their
+departure from the Pacific, the British will surely get wind of the
+_Narcissus_ waiting at Montevideo; and when she comes out they'll just
+naturally grab her."
+
+"I guess you're right," Cappy replied gloomily; "so for the present
+we're pro-German. Still, I find that a hard dose to swallow, in view
+of the fact that our German crew in the _Narcissus_ has evidently
+taken the vessel away from Mike Murphy."
+
+"I am sure they have done just that, sir; otherwise Mike would have
+obeyed our orders. We know he received the orders; hence the only
+reason he did not carry them out was because he wasn't permitted to do
+so. My only hope is that they haven't killed him, for if he is alive
+and free, he and Reardon, with the assistance of the cockney steward
+and the two Chinese cooks, might--"
+
+"Might what?"
+
+"Might steal her back again."
+
+"Matt! It isn't possible, is it?"
+
+"I'll bet Mike Murphy and I could steal her back if we had half a
+chance. The odds would be forty to two against our succeeding, but a
+little strategy is sometimes to be preferred to great horsepower. I
+think I could do it, and I think Murphy will do it--if he only thinks
+of it."
+
+"How? Tell me how you'd steal her back."
+
+"What's the use?" Matt replied wearily. "I'd have to have help. So
+will Mike--and I've just remembered Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon
+are the wrong kind of Irish to have together in the same ship. We did
+our best to prevent it, but the odds are too long for us; the coal is
+for the Germans and we hate England, so why worry? I know Mike Murphy
+will not take that view of it; for my sake he'll fight to the last
+gasp, but he must have help, and Reardon owes me no such allegiance as
+Murphy."
+
+"Well, he owes me something," Cappy spoke up.  "You promised him a
+hundred and seventy-five dollars a month and I raised the ante to two
+hundred. It was an investment, pure and simple. I was buying loyalty,
+and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I think I'll get it. Come to think
+of it, there was a look in Reardon's eyes that I liked, when he took
+my hand in those greasy paws of his and said he was a proud man to
+work for me. Matt, that fellow is full of bellicose veins. He may not
+fight for me, but he'll fight for Mrs. Reardon and the children and
+that two-hundred-dollar-a-month job, for it's the first he's ever had
+and if he loses out it'll be the last he'll ever get. He was telling
+me all about his family and how much the job meant to him, that day we
+had the _Narcissus_ out on her trial trip."
+
+Matt Peasley's face brightened. "By Jupiter, that puts a different
+face on the situation. If Reardon is alive they might get together for
+mutual protection."
+
+"Well," Cappy piped up, greatly relieved to discover Matt was facing
+the tragedy so optimistically, "we might do worse than hope. Wire the
+State Department, Matt; and in the meanwhile, cheer up, sonny, and
+trust in the luck of Alden P. Ricks. I remember Captain Noah
+Kendall--peace to his ashes--used to say to me: 'Mr. Ricks, if you
+ever fell into Channel Creek at low tide you'd come up with a pearl
+necklace wrapped round your ankle, and you'd be smelling like a spray
+of lemon verbena.' Cheer up, Matt! What though the cause be lost, the
+_Narcissus_ is not lost--yet. The Celtic troops remain, and from now
+on my war cry is going to be--"
+
+"Ireland uber Alles," Matt Peasley suggested.
+
+"You're blamed whistlin'!" said Cappy Ricks.
+
+So Mr. Skinner was called into consultation, and he and Matt Peasley
+and Cappy drew up a heart-rending telegram to the Secretary of State,
+who consulted with the Secretary of the Navy, who wired the Blue Star
+Navigation Company that he was sorry but he didn't have as much as a
+rowboat in the South Atlantic to save their steamer _Narcissus,_ and
+would they please keep still about it, since a noise like that, unless
+absolutely based on facts--and he understood their wail to be based on
+suspicion--would tend to create additional friction in an
+international complication already strained to the breaking point.
+Whereupon Cappy Ricks flew into a rage and immediately dictated a long
+letter to his congressman and his senator, urging them to battle to
+the last trench in the campaign for a two-power navy.
+
+Time passed. Then suddenly the world rocked with the news of the
+annihilation of the German Pacific fleet off the Falkland Islands.
+Cappy Ricks and Matt Peasley read the horrid tale in the morning
+papers as they sat at breakfast, and immediately both lost all
+interest in food. Like two mourners about to set out for the morgue to
+identify the corpse of a loved one recently killed by a taxicab, they
+drove down to the Blue Star offices, where immediately upon arrival
+something terrible in Mr. Skinner's face brought on palpitation of
+Cappy Ricks' heart.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he chattered, "Have you any news?"
+
+"Not yet, sir," murmured Mr. Skinner brokenly, "but soon! The British
+consul wants you to ring him up. He says he's had a wireless from
+H.M.S. _Panther,_ off the Falkland Islands, and he thinks it will be
+of interest to you."
+
+"Is my _Narcissus_ confiscated?" Cappy and Matt cried in chorus.
+
+"I--I don't know," Skinner faltered. "I just didn't have the courage
+to pursue the matter further. The British consul said she was captured
+but as for con--"
+
+"Idiot! Bonehead!" rasped Cappy. "My _Narcissus_ is gone--gone! Oh,
+Lord! Matt, you ring up the British consul--I'm an old man--Skinner,
+my dear chap, forgive my harsh language. Have you a little drop of
+whisky in the office?"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+
+
+
+Capt. Michael J. Murphy's futile tears of rage having dried almost as
+quickly as they came, he crawled painfully out of his berth and
+lighted a match, to discover he was a prisoner in his own state-room.
+He turned another electric switch, but still the room remained in
+darkness.
+
+"Sneaking out of Pernambuco with the lights doused," he soliloquized.
+Then he remembered a little stump of candle he kept in his desk for
+use when heating sealing wax, so he lighted the candle and by its
+meager rays took inventory of his features in the little mirror over
+his washstand.
+
+"By the Toe Nails of Moses," he soliloquized, "somebody's  sea-boots
+did that, and if I ever find out who was wearing them at the time
+there'll be a fight or a footrace. I'm a total wreck and no
+insurance--yes, thank God! here's the ship's medicine chest."
+
+Having spent the greater portion of an adventurous career far from
+medical aid in time of bodily stress, Michael J. was, as most
+shipmasters are, rather adept in rough-and-tumble surgery. His compact
+little library contained a common-sense treatise on the care of burns,
+scalds, cuts, fractures and the few minor physical diseases that
+sailors are heir to, and in accordance with immemorial custom he, as
+master of the ship, was the custodian of the medicine chest. So he
+washed the gore from his face, disinfected his split lip and patched
+himself up after a fashion. The bullet wound in his left shoulder
+proved to be a flesh wound, high up, so he cleaned that and decided
+his left wing would be in fair fighting order within a few days. Then
+he undressed and said his prayers, with a special invocation for help
+from his patron saint, holy Saint Michael, the archangel. Evidently
+Saint Michael inclined a friendly ear, for it is a curious fact that
+no sooner had his namesake risen from his marrow bones than a curious
+sense of peace and comfort stole over him. As in a vision he saw Herr
+August Carl von Staden standing on the bridge, bound at ankle, knee
+and hand and with a rope round his neck. From the supercargo's neck
+the rope led aloft through a small snatch-block fastened to the end of
+a cargo derrick and thence to the drum of the forward winch--a device
+which had been known to hoist with a jerk objects several tons heavier
+than Herr August Carl von Staden! This picture thus conjured in
+Murphy's imagination was so real he was almost tempted to recite the
+litany for the dying!
+
+"'Twould have been better for them had they killed me dead and hove my
+carcass overboard," he decided. "The fact that they didn't, but took
+the trouble to carry me to my own bed and lock me in, is proof that
+they'll not murder me now--so I'll not worry. I'll have every
+beer-drinking, sausage-making son of a seacook begging me for mercy
+before the week is out. I'll just lie low and rest up a bit, and by
+the time we're off Rio I'll drop on them like a top-mast in a typhoon.
+Then with the help of the two Chinamen, the steward and Reardon 'twill
+not be hard to run her into Rio. I wonder if that pirate frisked me of
+my five thousand." He searched through his clothing and was amazed to
+discover that the bills were still in his possession.
+
+"I'll give them back in the morning," he concluded.  "I had a pistol
+in the drawer of my desk and a rifle in that locker;" and in the wild
+hope that his luck still held, he searched eagerly for both. They were
+gone.
+
+Nevertheless, Michael J. Murphy smiled as he wrapped a wet towel round
+his throbbing head, for he had already decided upon his plan of
+campaign for regaining command of his ship, a _coup_ for which he
+required no weapon more formidable than his native intelligence. As he
+sank groaning into the arms of Morpheus, however, even a Digger Indian
+would have realized that for the next two weeks the master of the
+_Narcissus_ would be unable to defend himself against an old lady
+armed with a slipper. Nevertheless, the indomitable fellow, with the
+amazing optimism of his race, had already decided to attack and
+subdue, within four days, thirty-six husky male enemies; which lends
+some color to the oft-repeated declaration that an Irishman fights
+best when he is on his back with his opponent feeling for his
+windpipe.
+
+When Michael J. Murphy awoke it was broad daylight and Herr August
+Carl von Staden was standing over him. The supercargo was clad in an
+immaculate suit of white flannels and was looking as fresh as new
+paint.
+
+"Can it be possible?" Murphy queried in amazement.  "Upon my word,
+friend pirate, I had flattered myself I'd tucked you away for a couple
+of days at least."
+
+"The excellent Mr. Henckel tells me I was out for ten minutes from
+that solar-plexus blow you landed," Mr. von Staden replied in tones of
+mingled admiration and friendliness. "And of course you cannot see how
+sore my ribs feel. I take it rather ill of you to have kicked me."
+
+"Kicked you! I wish I'd killed you! And, speaking of kicks, somebody
+certainly kicked me. Who was it?"
+
+"Upon recovering consciousness," the supercargo replied with some
+embarrassment, "I was overcome with fury. You were lying on the floor
+of your stateroom, where Mr. Schultz and Mr. Henckel had hurriedly
+tossed you--so I came in and kicked you."
+
+"I never kicked you in the face," Murphy complained.
+
+"No, but you flattened my nose with your code book."
+
+"Well, I'll admit a good smack on the nose does make a man mad. But
+you shot me in the shoulder. By the way, do your lungs hurt when you
+breathe, Dutchy?"
+
+"No. Do yours?"
+
+"A slight tickle. I think you caved in my super-structure.  Who jumped
+on me from the top of the house?"
+
+"The second mate."
+
+"He dislocated my shoulder. I can wiggle my fingers, so I know it
+isn't a fracture. Suppose you take off your shoe, sit at the foot of
+my bed, put your foot under my right armpit and press, and at the same
+time pull on my right arm."
+
+"Delighted, I'm sure," declared Herr von Staden in his charming Oxford
+accent, and forthwith snapped Michael J. Murphy's shoulder into place
+with great dexterity.
+
+"Thank you," the skipper answered, and wiped the beads of agony from
+his white face. "If you'll frisk my trousers over there on the settee
+you'll find the five thousand dollars you gave me to sell out my
+owners. I don't want it. I never intended to keep it. I was suspicious
+of you and your confounded cablegrams, and I had to have a reasonable
+excuse to go ashore and cable my owners for confirmation. The bribe
+furnished that excuse. I suppose you thought I'd fallen for your
+game."
+
+"I must confess your attitude completely deceived me."
+
+"Thanks for the compliment. And now, if you don't mind, suppose you
+tell me something: Was it a German agent who put the bug in my ear
+about hiring the crew of that interned German liner in San Francisco?"
+
+"I greatly fear it was," von Staden answered smilingly.  "There is an
+old man who presides over the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation
+Company--"
+
+"You mean Cappy Ricks?"
+
+"I believe that is the name. He has a reputation for being at once the
+most reckless spendthrift and the most painstaking money saver in the
+world. He is always preaching economy--"
+
+"And well I know it. If he hadn't preached it, Captain Peasley would
+never have stood for this rabble your friends wished on me."
+
+The supercargo chuckled. "We wanted the largest vessel we could find,"
+he explained; "and when it was reported to us that the Blue Star
+Navigation Company's _Narcissus_ was going from San Francisco to the
+West Coast and thence to New York with nitrate, we decided to get her.
+We investigated you. Your name is Michael J. Murphy; naturally we knew
+you were Irish; and the Irish--your kind of Irish--are not sympathetic
+toward the cause of Merry England. The same held true of your chief
+engineer, Mr. Reardon. We knew of the passion of this interesting
+person, Cappy Ricks, for cutting down expenses. We knew you and
+Reardon were new to your jobs and would be likely to consider any
+reasonable plan for eliminating expense in your respective
+departments, in the hope of pleasing your employer. So the suggestion
+that you ship our people was made to you and Reardon, and you accepted
+it with alacrity. The rest was very easy. We got in touch with your
+New York agents through some friends of ours in very good standing
+there, and they were enabled to charter the ship merely by offering an
+extraordinary freight rate. They purchased the cargo of coal and sold
+it to us at a nice profit, and we depended on your national animosity
+and racial sympathy, seasoned with a liberal cash subsidy, to enable
+us to deliver it. We preferred to do the decent thing, but in the
+event that you proved unreasonable, we concluded it would be wise to
+have our own people aboard and take the vessel away from you. I admit
+we tried to trick you with the cablegrams. Why attempt to conceal the
+fact now? That was unsportsmanlike. However, if the fat is in the
+fire, as you Americans would say, you have put it there by forcing my
+hand."
+
+"Very cleverly done," quoth Michael J. Murphy.  "I always admire
+brains wherever I find them."
+
+"Men in my line of endeavor are trained to provide for all conceivable
+emergencies, captain. I think I provided for all of them in the case
+under discussion. Who, for instance, would conceive that you would
+have taken the trouble to call upon the American consul for the cipher
+message that has caused all this unpleasant row and facial
+disfigurement?"
+
+"You have read the translation, of course?"
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"It is self-explanatory. You intend delivering my cargo somewhere off
+the south coast of Uruguay. May I be pardoned for expressing some
+curiosity as to your plans thereafter, my piratical friend?"
+
+"Please do not call me your piratical friend."
+
+"Well, you're a pirate, aren't you?"
+
+"Legally--yes. Morally--no. In times of national necessity one's
+patriotism--one's duty to one's country--excuses, in the minds of all
+fair men, the commission of acts which ordinarily would bring about
+the deepest condemnation. I assure you that if we had had the faintest
+hope of doing business in a businesslike way with your owners, we
+should have been happy to pay almost any price for their ship, for she
+carries ten thousand tons of coal; and you surely must realize,
+Captain Murphy, how limited is the number of ships suitable for our
+purpose under the American flag. We were desperate--"
+
+"I believe Bethmann-Hollweg said something of the same nature with
+regard to Belgium," Murphy replied blandly. "A nation fighting for its
+life is a law unto itself, eh?"
+
+"Self-preservation is the first law of human nature," the supercargo
+replied.
+
+"All right. Then we understand each other. While I decline to
+terminate the war between August Carl von Staden and Michael Joseph
+Murphy, nevertheless under the law you have just cited I believe I'm
+entitled to breakfast. I'm starved. I figured on having supper ashore
+last night, but after I received that cablegram from my owners I
+forgot all about food. Now I'm remembering. I wish you'd send the
+steward in with about forty dollars' worth of spoon victuals. My
+grinders are very loose."
+
+"Captain Murphy," his jailer declared, "do you know you are a very
+wonderful man?"
+
+"All the Murphys are. It runs in the blood, like a wooden leg."
+
+"I really regret that you are such a wonderful man.  If you were not
+I'd give you the liberty of the ship. As it is, I crave your pardon
+for keeping you a prisoner in your state-room. The exigencies of war,
+you know."
+
+"Don't mention it, Dutchy. For the second time I ask you: When you
+have delivered this cargo of coal, what do you intend to do with my
+ship?"
+
+"We will, in all probability, give you a new crew, and the present
+crew of the _Narcissus_ will go aboard one of our warships and thus
+remove themselves from the reach of a possible indictment for piracy
+and mutiny on the high seas."
+
+"Where will you get a new crew for me?"
+
+"Our fleet has sunk a few British tramps in mid-ocean during the past
+sixty days. Naturally they removed the crews first. These prisoners
+are in our way, and the admiral will welcome an opportunity to load
+them all aboard the empty _Narcissus_, for even prisoners of war must
+eat, and the stores aboard our fleet are more valuable than these
+captured seamen. In obedience to that first law of human nature they
+will not object to working the _Narcissus_ into the nearest South
+American port."
+
+"Well, that's comforting; but for heaven's sake don't be too much of a
+hog with my cargo. Leave me enough of it to carry my ship to the
+nearest port. She burns about thirty-five tons a day--you might get
+the statistics from Reardon."
+
+"By all means, captain. Our capture of the _Narcissus_ is merely a
+deplorable national necessity. We would not lose her for you for
+anything."
+
+"How about a British cruiser picking her up before we make connections
+with your fleet?"
+
+Herr von Staden shrugged. "That," he replied, "would be the fortune of
+war."
+
+"It would look like the picture of misfortune to me.  And how about
+the freight on this cargo you've stolen? Don't my owners get something
+out of this deal to help pay expenses? You're going to play as fair as
+you can with me, aren't you, Dutchy?"
+
+"By all means. However, you are evidently in doubt as to the real
+situation. Your charterers are responsible to your owners for the
+freight money. If they do not pay it Mr. Cappy Ricks can sue them. As
+for the cargo, we have not stolen it, since one cannot steal that
+which one owns. We paid cash for this cargo before you cleared from
+Norfolk, for our go-between would take no risks whatsoever."
+
+"I see. Well, I suppose I'll have to grin and bear it.  By the way,
+don't forget to take back your blood money. It's in my trousers
+pocket."
+
+Von Staden was genuinely distressed. "Are you quite certain you want
+me to do that?" he queried. "Five thousand dollars is quite a sum for
+a poor sea captain to toss aside so contemptuously. Why not accept it
+as compensation for that broken rib, and that bullet I put through
+your left shoulder, the dislocated right shoulder, the loose teeth and
+the split lip? In fact, I am so certain five thousand dollars will not
+cover your personal injuries I am willing to be a sport and add
+something to the sum."
+
+Michael J. Murphy grinned--rather a horrible grin it was, owing to his
+swollen lip and jaw.
+
+"Dutchy," he said, "listen to me: All the money in the world couldn't
+make me be untrue to my salt. And if you have any lingering notion
+that I'm not going to collect a million dollars' worth of satisfaction
+for the way you've acted aboard my ship, I can only say that as a
+fortune-teller you'll never earn enough money to keep yourself in
+cigarettes. You say you have been trained to provide for all
+conceivable emergencies, so I'm advising you, as a friend, to brace
+yourself for the surprise of your life before you're a week older.
+Have you pondered the possibility of sudden death aboard the S.S.
+_Narcissus?_"
+
+"Certainly. Should we be overhauled by a British cruiser I should take
+a short cut to eternity. One naturally dislikes the thought of being
+hanged for a pirate. It would be a reflection on one's family. As for
+sudden death by violence at the hands of any member of the crew of
+this steamship, I should be willing to risk quite a sum of money that
+no such tragedy will be enacted."
+
+"Just why?"
+
+"Well, you'll be safe in this stateroom until I am ready to turn your
+command back to you, and a man with two shoulders in the condition of
+yours is hardly likely to try battering down this stout state-room
+door."
+
+"Correct. And I'm a trifle too thick in the middle to think of
+crawling through the state-room window."
+
+"And if," the supercargo continued, "you have any idea of calling the
+engine-room on that speaking tube and soliciting aid from Mr. Reardon,
+please be advised that for the present Mr. Reardon has been relieved
+from duty in the engine-room."
+
+"So you've got Reardon locked up, too?" Murphy queried. "Well! Well!
+I'd hate to think of being locked up and that man Reardon free.
+However, you need not have worried. I'd die before I'd ask that fellow
+for help--and he'd die before he'd give it."
+
+"So I understand from the first mate. However, I thought it prudent to
+guard against a temporary truce and an alliance for the common
+interest."
+
+"Dutchy," said the skipper, "you're pretty smart."
+
+Von Staden smiled most companionably. "I also took the precaution to
+remove some weapons from your apartment."
+
+"Take anything from me, Dutchy, except my honor, my pipe and tobacco,
+and my ship. Take any one of those four, however, and may the Lord
+have mercy on your soul. Please hand me that book entitled _Backwood's
+Surgery_ till I see what's good for a broken rib; then send the
+steward for my breakfast order. After that--well, after that you might
+make your will, Dutchy."
+
+"I did that in Pernambuco," the delightful Herr von Staden replied,
+"so your advice is wasted."
+
+He handed the skipper the book on surgery and went out, carefully
+locking the door behind him. He returned presently and stood beside
+the steward, who thrust his head through the state-room window and
+desired to know the captain's choice of breakfast.
+
+"A bowl of mush and milk, three soft-boiled eggs and a pot of coffee.
+No toast. Hurry!"
+
+When the steward returned with the order he was accompanied by Mr.
+Schultz, the first mate. The sight of the traitor threw Mike into a
+furious rage.
+
+"Mr. Schultz," he said ominously, "the things I'm going to do to you
+would make the devil blush."
+
+"So?" Mr. Schultz replied soothingly.
+
+"I'm going to hang von Staden. He's a pirate, and the rule of the
+Seven Seas is that a skipper hangs a pirate whenever he can lay hands
+on him. And you know me, Mr. Schultz. I'm a devil for etiquette aboard
+ship. As for you, you're only guilty of mutiny, so I'll content myself
+with tricing you up to the shrouds and flogging you with a cat soaked
+in brine."
+
+And so on, _ad libitum, ad infinitum_.
+
+Mr. Schultz was frankly mystified. Being a German, he did not
+understand the Irish, although in view of the fact that during the war
+he had room in his head for but one thing--the Fatherland--perhaps
+the skipper might have pardoned his mate the glance of contempt and
+utter disgust which the latter now bent upon him. Here was a man, Mr.
+Schultz told himself, who, having stipulated his price and struck a
+bargain, had demonstrated beyond cavil that he was not a gentleman,
+for he had refused to stay bought. More, he had basely attacked his
+benefactor.
+
+"So?" he repeated.
+
+"Out, you blackguard, and leave me alone!" Murphy yelled.
+
+"It iss an order dot I stay und see dot der steward shall mayg no
+conversations vatsoefer," Mr. Schultz declared firmly.
+
+"Verboten, eh?" sneered the skipper. He had once been to Hamburg, and
+naturally he had acquired the word most commonly used in the German
+language.
+
+"_Ja_," Mr. Schultz replied placidly, but with an air of finality that
+left no room for further argument.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+
+
+In the course of the afternoon, having chewed the bitter cud of
+reflection and reviewed his situation from every possible angle, Mike
+Murphy came to the conclusion that, for all Terence Reardon's
+religious backsliding, he might be fairly honest in money matters and
+possessed of a sense of loyalty where his owners' interests were
+concerned. Also, having found Herr von Staden bluffing in one instance
+it occurred to the captain he might be discovered bluffing in
+another--so he resolved to investigate. Accordingly at an hour when he
+knew Terence should be in the engine room he took up the speaking-tube
+at the head of his bed and blew into it. But no shrill whistle
+signalled his desire in the engine room, and though Michael blew until
+he was red in the face and his lips hurt him cruelly, reluctantly he
+came to the conclusion that Herr August Carl von Staden had the
+situation very well in hand and Terence Reardon in the latter's
+state-room under lock and key.
+
+He was right in one particular: von Staden had the situation very well
+in hand, but he did not have Terence Reardon under lock and key.
+Murphy had been balked in making connections with the unsuspecting
+Terence for the reason that a little ball of cotton waste had very
+carefully been tucked into the engine-room howler a few inches at the
+back of the whistle at the chief's end of the tube. Hence, in the
+event that one sought to whistle up the other, he merely wasted his
+breath. Having learned, on the very excellent authority of both men in
+the case, that they despised each other and were not on speaking
+terms, von Staden decided that the chance of Terence Reardon's
+listening to Michael J. Murphy's tale of piracy and mutiny was so
+vague as to be almost negligible. However, he was painstaking and
+careful in all things and never ran any unnecessary risks;
+consequently, just to be on the safe side, he had instructed the first
+assistant to plug the speaking-tube leading to the skipper's room. And
+in order to discourage the captain from, seeking an interview with the
+chief, von Staden had told the former that the chief was a prisoner.
+
+Mr. Reardon was too important a personage to be deprived of his
+liberty when nothing was to be gained by such action. If he could be
+kept in ignorance of the state of affairs aboard the _Narcissus_, he
+would continue to attend to business; if the worst came to the worst
+his friendship would be a better asset than his hatred. If he grew
+suspicious and demanded a showdown, Herr von Staden would give it to
+him without reservation and stuff his mouth with gold; then, if the
+chief declined to listen to reason, it would be time enough to lock
+him up. While the supercargo would not hesitate to sacrifice his life,
+his liberty, or his honor for his country, he was nevertheless
+desirous of being a gentleman if accorded the opportuniby. And it must
+be admitted he had found Mr. Reardon amusing and vastly entertaining,
+for the very first night aboard, after Mr. Schultz had introduced him
+to the chief and he had presented the latter with a good cigar, Mr.
+Reardon, under the spell of the witchery cast by the sea and the
+night, had sat on deck and told the German wonderful tales of the
+fairies in Ireland--this while the skipper was ashore. In particular
+he told von Staden the tale of the fairy queen with the iron hand.
+
+"Her hand," said Terence, "was as beautiful as ye'd find in a day's
+thravel, an' 'twas herself that'd dhrive men crazy afther wan look at
+her. An' she was good to the poor, but divii a bit av love did she
+have for a redcoat. Whin she'd take human form an' a bowld buck av a
+British dragoon would come making love to her, 'tis herself would say
+to him: 'Captain, alannah, would ye oblige me wit' a dhrink av
+wather?' An' whin he turrned to dhraw the wather, she'd breathe on her
+hand--like that--an' immejiately 'twould turn to iron an' wit' wan
+blow she'd knock his brains out. Sure they found the bodies all over
+Ireland, but divil a man, woman, or child could they ever convict av
+the murrder. For why? Why, sure, the minute she'd killed a redcoat
+she'd breathe on her hand ag'in, an' immejiately 'twas flesh an' blood
+ag'in!"
+
+No, decidedly it would not do to imprison this excellent fellow. Von
+Staden had read fairy tales as a boy, but never had he met a man who
+could tell them like Terence Reardon. A hard-headed, highly
+intelligent chief engineer of a big tramp steamer telling tales of the
+fairies! Von Staden couldn't understand it. It was so childish--and
+yet there was nothing childish about Terence Reardon. The German
+wondered if Terence Reardon believed in the fairies and finally he
+asked him point-blank if he did; whereupon Terence turned a solemn eye
+upon him and replied:
+
+"Why, av course I do not. Do you think I'm a blubber-jack av a bhoy?
+But isn't it pleasant to talk about thim whilst wan has nothing
+betther to do? Sure, whin I'm lonely at night I think up new fairy
+tales to tell to the childhren whin I come home from a v'yage."
+
+So that was the Irish of it! Strangely enough it did not occur to the
+practical German that an individual with an imagination like that, on
+such an expedition as the present, was the most dangerous person
+imaginable to be given the freedom of the ship.
+
+So passed twelve days and nights. Mr. Schultz kept in his pocket the
+key to the captain's state-room, and consequently was always present
+when the little cockney steward brought the prisoner his meals, tidied
+up the state-room and made up the captain's bed. The captain spent
+most of his time lying on his uninjured side and remained very quiet,
+for the fractured rib, which had received no attention, was causing
+him a great deal of suffering. Neither did the bullet wound in his
+shoulder heal cleanly, for the reason, unknown to the captain, that
+the bullet had carried with it into the muscle a fragment of Michael
+J.'s undershirt.
+
+However, his physical sufferings were as nothing compared with those
+he experienced mentally. He had hoped to be in fair fighting condition
+within a week at the latest. Wrapped in paper and tucked away in the
+back of the ship's safe he had a silver-hilted stiletto he had taken
+away from a cutthroat who had tried to rob him once in Valparaiso--and
+with this weapon he had planned to cut away the lock on the state-room
+door. And once outside--
+
+What Michael J. Murphy did not know was that when one has dislocated
+one's shoulder one will do very little wood-carving during the three
+subsequent weeks. It almost broke the skipper's heart to think he had
+made a threat in good faith, and was balked from making it good.
+
+During this entire period Mr. Reardon was going about his duties as
+usual, in absolute ignorance of the state of affairs about the ship,
+for he was an innocent, trustful sort of fellow, and to a born
+romanticist like Terence the fairy tale which Mr. Schultz had spun at
+breakfast the morning after leaving Pernambuco was not at all
+difficult of assimilation. It appeared--according to Mr. Schultz--
+that the skipper had gone ashore for a night of roystering, and upon
+returning to the ship about midnight, in a wild state of intoxication,
+had become involved in an altercation with the launchman over the
+fare. In the resultant battle the skipper, in his helpless condition,
+was being terribly beaten by the vicious Pernambucan; hence one could
+scarcely blame him for drawing a pistol and shooting the
+launchman--fatally, according to Mr. Schultz. Of course, after that,
+to have lingered longer inside the three-mile limit would have been
+sheer insanity, so Mr. Schultz, taking matters into his own hands, had
+uphooked and skipped with doused lights from the jurisdiction of the
+Pernambuco police.
+
+"And how did the skipper come out of all this?" Mr.  Reardon had
+inquired anxiously.
+
+"He iss in rodden shape," Mr. Schultz had declared.  "Von of hiss
+angles vos brogen, und he vos cut mid a knive--preddy deeb, but
+noddings to worry aboud. Der only drouble iss der dooty of navigading
+der shib falls double on der segond mate und me."
+
+"Make him pay ye over-time out av his own wages, the wurthless
+vagabone!" Mr. Reardon had urged. "May he walk wit' a limp for the
+rest av his days--bad cess to him! I've a notion, Misther Schultz,
+that lad'll never comb his hair grey."
+
+Mr. Schultz nodded lugubriously; then he glanced up and caught the
+little cockney steward staring at him so balefully, that he realized
+he must have speech in private with the steward. Consequently he
+lingered at table until Mr. Reardon finished his breakfast and went
+below; whereupon Mr. Schultz intimated to the steward, in his direct
+blunt fashion, that for the remainder of the voyage, Riggins--for that
+was the steward's name--was to consider himself deaf, dumb and blind;
+the penalty for reconsideration within the hearing of Mr. Reardon
+being a swift and immediate excursion, personally conducted by Mr.
+Schultz, to Davy Jones's locker! Following this earnest exhortation,
+Riggins, never a robust person mentally or physically, came abruptly
+to the conclusion that this was one of those occasions where silence,
+if not exactly golden, was at least to be preferred to great riches.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+
+
+IT may appear strange that during the days and nights Michael J.
+Murphy lay on his bed of pain Terence Reardon did not once pass the
+little open window of the skipper's state-room. Not, however, that the
+latter watched for him, for he did not. He believed that Reardon, like
+himself, was a prisoner; although, had the chief passed the window and
+had the captain observed his passing, the complacence of Herr von
+Staden and his patriotic company would have received a jar much
+earlier in the voyage.
+
+Unfortunately, however, for Murphy's plans, the chief's stateroom was
+located in the after part of the house and on the side opposite the
+skipper's, and following their brief spat through the speaking-tube,
+Terence Reardon had confined himself exclusively to his engine-room
+and that portion of the ship along which he must of necessity pass
+when going to and from his state-room. He told himself it was the part
+of wisdom for one of his ferocious temper to avoid the occasions of
+sin. Certainly it would be hard to pass the skipper's state-room
+without looking in, particularly since in these warm latitudes the
+door would probably be open; for should the skipper be within at the
+time, they would peradventure scowl at each other, and he is a fool
+indeed who cannot foretell the future when a thousand generations of
+natural enemies exchange "the black look." Terence remembered his boy
+Johnny, a youth who, according to Mrs. Reardon, should never be a
+marine engineer, but the finest lawyer that ever pouched a fat fee.
+And there was Mary Agnes and Catherine Bertram. Next year they would
+begin taking piano lessons, and in the fullness of time, no matter how
+hard the pull, both should go to the state university and acquire the
+education made to fit their father's head, but by force of
+circumstances denied him. And at the thought Terence looked at his
+hard black hands and set himself resolutely to face a life sentence of
+rattling ash hoists, roaring furnaces and the soft sucking sounds of
+the pistons. Two hundred dollars a month--and the union scale was a
+hundred and fifty! Ah, no, he dared not trifle with that job. He must,
+at all hazard, avoid friction with the skipper, for what would Mrs.
+Reardon say if Cappy Ricks forced him to roll the bones with Mike
+Murphy--one flop and high man out? Mr. Reardon could close his eyes
+and see Mike Murphy roll out a "stiff," while with trembling hand the
+Reardon rolled five sixes!
+
+The _Narcissus_ had been out of Pernambuco harbor four days before Mr.
+Reardon, upon comparing the sun--which all are agreed rises in the
+east--with the direction in which the ship was headed, and then
+extracting the cube root of the resultant product, and subtracting it
+from the longtitude and latitude of the Cape of Good Hope, decided
+that there must be something wrong with Mr. Schultz's navigation. So
+he spoke to Mr. Schultz about it, and was laughingly informed that
+they were traveling on a great circle. Thereupon Mr. Reardon
+remembered that at sea a ship traveling on the arc of a great circle,
+for some mysterious reason repudiates the old geometrical theorem that
+a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. He
+recalled that vessels plying between San Francisco and Yokohama
+describe a great circle which brings them well up toward the Aleutian
+Islands, So he was satisfied with the explanation, this being his
+first voyage into the South Atlantic anyhow; but he continued to
+observe the sun each morning, and still the vessel's head held far to
+the south. A suspicion that all was not as it should be slowly settled
+in Mr. Reardon's head, and though he said nothing, he used his ejes
+and ears. A dozen times a day, as the ship rolled steadily south, he
+was tempted to take down the speaking tube and confide his suspicions
+to the master, confined in his state-room by reason of deep--but not
+serious-knife wounds. Each time he was on the point of yielding,
+however, he remembered that Mike Murphy had called him a renegade--so
+he refrained.
+
+The installation of the wireless plant and the presence aboard the
+ship of Herr von Staden had failed to arouse his suspicions the first
+day out. True, the wireless could not have been connected with the
+electric light plant below without Mr. Reardon's knowledge and
+consent, but when he asked Mr. Schultz about it the latter replied
+that Cappy Ricks must have changed his mind about installing wireless
+on the _Narcissus_, for he had cabled to the agents of the charterers
+in Pernambuco to have a wireless plant and a competent operator
+waiting for the vessel upon arrival. It was Mr. Schultz's opinion that
+the owners had evidently arrived at the conclusion that it was wise to
+have a wireless aboard during war times. Personally, Mr. Schultz
+approved of the innovation.
+
+So did Terence Reardon, for that matter. He found the new wireless
+operator a charming fellow, possessed of talents far superior to those
+of the young men who ordinarily pound the brass at sea. Indeed, after
+the second day out, Mr. Reardon would have been heartbroken had
+anything happened to that wireless. For Herr August Carl von Staden
+sat at the key almost continuously, eavesdropping on the war news, and
+Mr. Reardon never came to the wireless room that the operator did not
+have some news of an overwhelming British defeat!
+
+As the voyage proceeded, however, and Mr. Reardon's mind grew a trifle
+uneasy, reluctantly he began to view Herr von Staden and the wireless
+with apprehension. He asked the affable operator how much the Marconi
+company charged the _Narcissus_ for his services and the rental of the
+wireless plant, and von Staden, momentarily stumped, replied that the
+tariff was two hundred dollars a month; whereupon Reardon knew he
+lied, for the charge is one hundred and forty. The German, realizing
+instantly that he was not on the target, added: "That is, for a
+first-grade operator and a plant like this. Of course we furnish
+cheaper operators and less powerful plants, Mr. Reardon."
+
+"Oh! So that's the way av it?" the chief replied, and immediately went
+to his state-room for the purpose of thinking it over. Eventually he
+came to the conclusion that all was not as it should be, but that,
+nevertheless, it was no affair of his. He was paid to obey signals
+given him from the bridge.
+
+"'Tis no business av mine, afther all," he soliloquized.  "For why
+should I be puttin' dogs in windows? He's paid to navigate the ship,
+an' didn't Cappy Ricks tell me to mind me own business? And yet,
+there's something wrong in this ship. I feel it in me bones."
+
+He felt it with a force that was almost violent when Mr. Schultz
+called down through the speaking-tube late one afternoon and told him
+to put her under a dead-slow bell. That meant they were practically
+heaving to, and steamers only heave to at sea in fine weather when
+they have reached a certain longitude and latitude and plan to keep an
+appointment. On the instant there was a strong odor of rat in Terence
+Reardon's engine room, but his "Very well, sir," contained no hint of
+his surprise and suspicion. He gave his orders to the firemen to bank
+the fires, and when this had been done he informed his engine-room
+crew that they might all go on deck for five minutes and get a breath
+of fresh air. Nothing loath, they scrambled up the steel stairway--and
+the instant the last man was out of earshot Terence Reardon sprang to
+the speaking-tube to whistle up the skipper in his room.
+
+Now, undoubtedly the cool and calculating Herr August Carl von Staden
+had been carefully trained to take into consideration, when planning
+his strategy, every conceivable contingency that might possibly arise.
+It is probable that the German secret service never turned out a more
+finished graduate than Herr von Staden; but the fact remains,
+nevertheless, that there are certain contingencies over which no human
+being has control. One of these is Newton's law of gravitation;
+another, an equally immutable law to the effect that water will seek
+its own level; a third, the vindictiveness of an outraged Irishman;
+and a fourth, the very natural tendency of any man, not excepting Mr.
+Terence Reardon, to be profoundly surprised and intensely curious when
+certain phenomena, which we shall now proceed to explain, take place
+in the engine room where he is chief.
+
+Michael J. Murphy, having only the day before again essayed the task
+of whistling up the engine room, and having, by reason of the ball of
+cotton waste with which the tube had been plugged by the first
+assistant engineer, again failed to receive the courtesy of a reply
+from any one, had, to put it mildly, been annoyed.
+
+"Very well, my bullies," he soliloquized as he hung up the tube, "you
+wouldn't speak to me when I wanted to speak to you; so now the first
+time one of you wants to speak to me I'll hand you a surprise, and
+I'll hand it to you right in the mouth." And forthwith Michael J. had
+carefully poured down the speaking tube the contents of the basin in
+which he had just made his morning ablutions! He longed to do
+something nasty, and he succeeded admirably.
+
+As we have already remarked, water seeks its own level. It ran down
+the speaking-tube until it encountered the cotton waste plug;
+whereupon, due to the hydrostatic pressure, the plug gave way and was
+forced down to the tightly closed mouth of the tube, and the suds
+backed up behind it. It was pretty warm in the engine room, and most
+of the water had evaporated by the time Terence Reardon took down the
+looped tube and opened it for the purpose of putting his lips to the
+mouthpiece and blowing heartily through it. However, there was about a
+gill of water left in the tube.
+
+Now, as everybody knows, water running down a slope of seventy-five or
+eighty degrees comes rather fast. Consequently Mr. Reardon had no time
+to dodge.
+
+Why be squeamish? He got a mouthful and was very nauseated for half a
+minute. Also he cursed, we regret to record, and was very, very angry.
+Carefully he drained the devilish tube, wiped it clean with some fresh
+waste, and racked his brain for the right thing to say to Michael J.
+Murphy. Finally he hit upon something he concluded would about fill
+the bill, so he put his lips to the mouthpiece once more and whistled
+up the skipper. To his surprise, however, his breath didn't seem to
+get anywhere: in fact, it was directed back in his face rather
+forcefully; so he investigated and discovered the mouthpiece was only
+half open. Upon endeavoring to open it fully he sensed an obstruction
+in the back of it, so he unscrewed the mouthpiece and drew forth a
+ball of dirty, sour-smelling cotton waste.
+
+He gazed a moment in speechless wonder. Then: "I'll whistle that
+dirrty Tomfool, until he answers me in self-defense," he announced'to
+the main motor, and forthwith blew a mighty blast. Almost instantly
+Michael J. Murphy yelled: "Hullo!"
+
+"Murphy," Terence Reardon announced calmly and very distinctly,
+"you're a contimptible dhrunken ape!"
+
+"Holy Moses! Reardon, is that you?" the astounded Murphy demanded.
+
+"It is-as you'll discover whin you're able to come on deck an' give me
+the satisfaction I'll demand for the dirrty dab av wather an' cotton
+waste you put in the tube, knowin' that the firrst time I took it down
+to spheak to you, ye blackguard, in the line av djooty--which is the
+only reason I would spheak to you--I'd get it full in the mouth. Ye
+dirrty, lyin', schamin', dhrunken murrderer!"
+
+He paused to let that stream of adjectival opprobrium sink in.
+Silence. Then:
+
+"I poured the contents of my washbasin in the tube, I'll admit, but I
+did not plug it with cotton waste. One of your assistants did that,
+chief, and as for the water, as God is my judge, I didn't intend it
+for you--"
+
+"Who else would ye be afther insultin' if it wasn't me? Are ye not
+friendly wit' me assistants?"
+
+"Forgive me, Reardon, and listen to what I'm going to tell you."
+
+And then the tale was told. When it was done Terence Reardon grunted.
+
+"I knew it!" he said. "I knew it! I felt in me bones there was
+something wrong aboard this ship. An' so ye were not dhrunk an'
+disordherly at Pernambuco?"
+
+"The liars! Did they tell you that? Reardon, it's only the mercy of
+heaven they didn't murder me. I'm lying here, helpless and crippled in
+my state-room, with the key turned in the lock. They've stolen my ship
+from me, and I can tell by the roll of her she's practically hove to
+under a dead-slow bell this minute. We've reached the
+rendezvous--we're waiting for the German fleet to deliver the coal;
+and oh, man, man, if we're caught by a British cruiser we'll lose the
+ship! They'll confiscate her, chief. Wirra! Wirra!" he cried, breaking
+into the forgotten wail of his childhood. "How can I ever face Matt
+Peasley and Cappy Ricks after this? Reardon, man, they'll think we
+stood in with the Germans and let them do it. We're both Irish--they
+know we're both pro-German--"
+
+"What's that you said?" Terence demanded sharply.  "Me pro-German. Me?
+I _was_ pro-German--yis--wanst!"
+
+Fell a silence.
+
+Now, for the benefit of the uninitiated, be it known that there is a
+certain curse employed by the Irish and by no other race on earth.
+Whenever you hear an Irishman employ it, you know instantly--
+provided, of course, you are Irish yourself--just what kind of Irish
+that Irishman is. You cannot mistake it. There is no possible chance.
+It is only brought forth with the dust of the centuries on it, so to
+speak, to grace a fitting occasion. Terence Reardon felt that such an
+occasion was now at hand. As naturally, as inevitably, therefore, as
+the suds ran down the speaking-tube, that curse climbed up it--softly,
+distinctly, and with a wealth of feeling in the back of it:
+
+"God put the curse av Crummle on thim!"
+
+Mr. Reardon, of course, referred to the late Oliver Cromwell. Any one
+who has ever read the sorry history of Erin knows what the amiable
+Oliver did to the Irish. Consequently such an one will have no
+difficulty in estimating the precise proportions of bad luck Terence
+Reardon prayed might be the immediate heritage of the crew of the S.S.
+_Narcissus_.
+
+Michael J. Murphy blinked rapidly, for all the world as if Mr. Schultz
+had entered at that moment and struck him a terrific blow on top of
+the head. A more dazed Irishman than he never threw an ancient egg or
+a defunct cat at an alleged Celtic comedian with green whiskers. He
+was absolutely staggered--but not for long. The Irish come back very
+quickly.
+
+"Shame on you, Terence Reardon!" he declared.  "And you with a Masonic
+ring on your finger."
+
+"Glory be!" cried the delighted Terence. "Sure are you wan av us?"
+
+"One of you!" Mike Murphy fairly shrieked. "The minute I'm out of this
+room you'll apologize or fight for thinking I'm a renegade."
+
+"_Naboclish!_" laughed Terence Reardon, slipping into the Gaelic and
+out again. "The divil a Mason am I! Sure that ring ye saw on me finger
+that day in the office av the owners belonged to me second assistant
+in the _Arab_. He'd lost it in the engine room, an' a mont' afther
+he'd left I found it. Not knowin' what ship he was in, 'twas me
+intintion to take the ring over to the Marine Engineers' Association
+an' lave it for him wit' the secreth'ry; and to make sure I wouldn't
+forget it I put it on me finger--"
+
+"Well, you knew, Terence, that with the likes of me round you'd not be
+liable to forget it," Mike Murphy laughed.
+
+"As for you, ye divil," Terence continued, "faith, what wit' yer
+English tweeds an' the fancy cut av thim, an' yer lack av the brogue
+an' the broad _a_ av ye, I thought, begorra, ye were a dirrty Far
+Down! God love ye, Michael, but 'tis the likes av you I'm proud to be
+ship-mates wit'."
+
+"But you said you were from Belfast, Terence."
+
+"So I am. I was borrn there, but me parents--the Lord 'a' merrcy on
+their sowls--moved back to Kerry."
+
+"Terence!"
+
+"What is it, Michael, me poor lad?"
+
+"Do you ever drink on duty? I don't mean with your superiors--"
+
+The chief chuckled. He knew what Murphy was alluding to.
+
+"I do," he replied, "wit' me equals."
+
+"'Tis a pity, Terence, that man Schultz has the key to my state-room
+in his pocket. Now if you could manage to tap that Dutchman on the
+head with something hard and heavy, take the key out of his pocket and
+throw him overheard, you could let me out of this purgatory I'm in.
+Then I wouldn't be surprised if the sight of me and the absence of Mr.
+Schultz would put a bit of heart in that little cockney steward--and
+maybe he'd bring a drink to hearten you for what's ahead of you this
+night."
+
+"An' what might that be, avic?" Terence demanded.
+
+"I want you to steal the ship back from them, Terence."
+
+"Very well, Michael. 'Tis not a small thing ye ask me to do, but the
+divil a more willin' man could ye find to ask. Have ye figured out the
+plan av campaign? Sure what wit' the suddenness av it all I'm all in a
+shweat wit' excitement."
+
+"You may be cold enough before morning, Terry, my boy."
+
+"Bad luck to you, Michael! Dyin' is wan thing I cannot afford to do,
+although be the same token they tell me ould Ricks has a kind shpot in
+the heart av him for the widow an' the orphan--particularly av thim
+that dies in his service! As I say, I cannot afford to get kilt, but
+in back av that ag'in I cannot afford to lose the best job I ever had.
+An' afther all, 'tis a poor man that won't fight for a fine, kind
+gentleman--"
+
+"Damn the fine, kind gentleman! It serves him right for letting us get
+into this fix. He can afford the loss of the ship, but you and I,
+Terence Reardon, cannot afford the loss of our honor and self-respect.
+For the sake of the blood that's in us we can't afford to let a lot of
+Dutchmen steal our ship and cargo."
+
+"Whist!" Reardon warned. "Hurry up. Me crew is comin' below ag'in."
+
+"Make it a point to pass by my state-room window after dark. You'll
+find a scrap of paper on the sill. Help yourself to it."
+
+"Faith, I will," Mr. Reardon promised fervently, and the tube closed
+with a click.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+
+
+TERENCE Reardon's preparations for the night's work began the instant
+he hung up the speaking-tube. The _Narcissus_ carried three assistant
+engineers, in consequence of which Mr. Reardon was not required to
+stand a watch unless he so elected; although from force of habit
+acquired in the days when he had been chief of the _Arab_--a little
+three-thousand-ton tramp--and perforce had to stand a regular watch,
+he found it very difficult not to spend at least eight hours in every
+twenty-four in the engine room. When, eventually, he came to a
+realization that his job was not to make the engines behave, but to
+see that they behaved properly, he spent more of his time on deck, and
+put in only a few hours below during the watch of the third assistant
+engineer--the third assistant being a young man in whom the chief
+reposed exactly that degree of confidence a chief engineer should
+always repose in a third assistant. Mr. Reardon, therefore, was at
+liberty to leave the engine-room whenever he felt so disposed; and
+following his illuminating conversation with the captain he felt very
+much disposed to leave immediately.
+
+He went first to his state-room, where he bathed, changed into new
+under-clothes and socks, donned a freshly laundered suit of faded
+dungarees--old, faded, well-washed dungarees, by the way, always
+appearing neater and cleaner than new ones--and shaved; for if
+Providence willed it that lie should die to-night. Mr. Reardon was
+resolved to be in such a highly sanitary condition that "those upon
+whom should devolve the melancholy duty of laying him out"--which
+phrase, in the Hibernian sense, means those who should dispose his
+limbs, close his eyes, tie up his black jowls with a towel and fold
+his hands--alas, so white in death, at last! across his still
+breast--might be moved to remark that, notwithstanding the nature of
+the deceased's vocation, they could not recall ever having seen a
+cleaner corpse.
+
+Having attended to his pre-dissolution toilet, Mr.  Reardon next sat
+in at his littered desk, swept a space clear of tobacco crumbs, ashes,
+pipes and some old copies of the _Cork Eagle_, and sat down to write a
+farewell letter to his wife, hoping that, even though his enemies
+should slay him, yet would they have sufficient respect for the dead
+to mail that letter to Mrs. Reardon. And, in order that he might not
+anger his posthumous benefactors, he mentioned nothing of the state of
+affairs aboard the ship. He merely stated that she might never see him
+again, in which event she was to call upon the owners and ask them to
+invest for her the proceeds of his life insurance policy, since they
+could and would invest it to better advantage than she. Then he spoke
+of his grief at the thought of the children being forced to forego
+their college education and suggested that she ask Cappy Ricks to give
+Johnny a place in his office; also, should the owners offer anything
+as compensation for the loss of her husband, she was to accept it,
+for, as God was his judge, she would be entitled to it! This last
+sentence Terence underscored for emphasis; that was as close as he
+came to saying that if he died it would be in defense of his owner's
+interest. Then he commended her to the comfort of her religion and
+subscribed himself: "Your loving and devoted husband, Terence P.
+Reardon, Chief Engineer S.S. _Narcissus_."
+
+Having set his small affairs in order against a hasty exit from this
+vale of hatreds, Mr. Reardon, in unconscious imitation of all the
+condemned men who had preceded him on the voyage across the Styx,
+repaired to the dining saloon and partook of a hearty meal. He
+realized he had undertaken a contract that would require the
+employment of weapons more formidable than his hard fists, and
+devoutly he wished that, like the fairy queen, he had but to breathe
+on them to metamorphose them into pig iron. He pictured the slaughter
+aboard the _Narcissus_ when he should wade into the conflict. Finally
+he made up his mind that, in lieu of an iron hand or two, he would use
+his favorite monkey wrench, for he had no firearms whatsoever;
+although, had somebody presented him with a one-man machine gun with
+full directions for using, Mr Reardon would have recoiled in horror
+from it. Firearms were highly dangerous. They killed so many people!
+
+He left the table long before the others had finished.  There was no
+one on deck as he emerged from the dining saloon, so he walked
+leisurely round past the captain's cabin, whistling the "Cruiskeen
+Lawn" to let Mike Murphy know who was coming. Evidently Michael
+assimilated the hint, for there was an envelope on the little window
+sill as Terence hove abreast of it. He snatched it swiftly away and
+continued round to his own state-room.
+
+The envelope contained Michael J. Murphy's plan for campaign worked
+out to the most minute detail, by reason of his absolute knowledge of
+the customs aboard the ship. Mr. Reardon read the remarkable document
+and sat lost in admiration; a twinkle leaped to his eyes and a
+cunning, rather deadly little smile came sneaking round the corners of
+his broad chin.
+
+"Arrah, but 'tis a beautiful schame," he soliloquized.  "Who but that
+lad could have t'ought av it? An' here I've been shpendin' the past
+two hours borrowin' trouble."
+
+He read and reread the plan of attack, in order to familiarize himself
+with the details; then he held a match to the document and destroyed
+it. He considered a moment, and then performed a similar service to
+his farewell letter to Mrs. Reardon, for the chief engineer of the
+S.S. _Narcissus_, of San Francisco, had made up his mind not to
+die--to-night!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+
+
+Mr. Schultz, the first assistant, and Mr. von Staden were engaged in
+coffee and repartee when Terence Reardon thrust his head in at the
+dining saloon window. He was mildly excited.
+
+"Be the Great Gun av Athlone!" he declared. "I've just been bit be a
+bedbug--an' I t'ought there wasn't a bedbug in the ship!"
+
+Mr. Schultz looked up, horrified. "Chieve," he said, "dot is rodden
+news. Bedbugs! _Ach!_"
+
+"An' well you may '_Ach_,' Misther Schultz. Let a colony av bedbugs
+move into the _Narcissus_ an' Terence P. Reardon will move out.
+There's only wan thing to do, Misther Schultz, an' that is to tackle
+the divils before we're overwhelmed be the weight av numbers. Have ye
+a bit av sulphur in yer shtore-room, Misther Schultz--the kind that
+comes in balls an' is used to burrn in shtate-rooms to kill bedbugs?"
+
+When Terence Reardon put that innocent query to the first mate he knew
+very well Mr. Schultz would reply in the negative--which he did--for
+the reason that Michael J. Murphy had privately informed Mr. Reardon
+that the little cockney steward, Riggins, had charge of the bedbug
+ammunition. Riggins, who had been standing with his back against the
+wall, eyeing Mr. Schultz sourly, now spoke up and said he had some
+sulphur.
+
+"More power to ye, Riggins!" Mr. Reardon declared heartily. "Then do
+ye, like the good lad, give me two or three balls av it. I'll burn
+them in me shtate-room to-night, wit' the door an' window locked, an'
+be morrnin' sorra bedbug will be left alive."
+
+"Very well, sir," Riggins replied. "Might Hi arsk, Mr. Reardon, where
+you hintend passin' the night?"
+
+"I'll shleep in me auld aisy-chair abaft the house an' next the
+funnel, where I'll be snug an' warrm," Mr. Reardon replied, for he
+desired an excuse to be on deck all night without arousing the
+suspicions of Mr. Schultz or von Staden.
+
+The steward, having finished serving those who ate in the dining
+saloon, stepped out on deck and started for his own room. Mr. Reardon
+remained by the window a minute, discoursing on the curse of bedbugs
+aboard a ship, and then with a sigh followed the steward leisurely.
+Mr. Schultz appeared undecided whether or not to accompany him in the
+capacity of censor, but finally concluded to remain and finish his
+coffee, for if Riggins had decided to enlighten the chief as to the
+real reason for the skipper's indisposition he had had frequent
+opportunity to do so during the past ten days. It did not seem likely,
+therefore, that he would run any risks at this late date. To Mr.
+Schultz, Riggins appeared to be a man who could be depended upon to
+remember which side his bread was buttered on and who supplied the
+butter.
+
+Arrived at the steward's state-room, Mr. Reardon helped himself to the
+entire box of bedbug exterminator and addressed Riggins very briefly:
+
+"Riggins, ye're a child av Johnny Bull, are ye not?"
+
+Riggins, without the slightest trace of embarrassment, admitted his
+disgrace.
+
+"An' bein' what ye are," Mr. Reardon continued, "would ye do somethin'
+av great binifit to England?"
+
+Riggins replied that inasmuch as he had lost two brothers at the
+Battle of the Marne, that ought to indicate bally well where the
+Riggins tribe stood on the subject of defense of the realm.
+
+"Good!" Mr. Reardon murmured. "Even if misguided in their pathriotic
+motives, shtill yer brothers were brave min, an' for that I respect
+thim. Now, thin, Riggins, ye rabbit, listen to me: In a momint av
+surpassin' innocince Captain Murphy an' mesilf swallowed a cute
+suggestion from a lad whose back I'll break in two halves whin the
+_Narcissus_ gets back to San Francisco. 'Why not save expinse,' says
+he, 'an' ship the crew av this German liner that's interned over in
+Richardson's Bay?' Riggins, to make a long shtory short, we have thim
+this minute, an' the dear God knows that even if shipped at the German
+scale av wages that gang'll prove a dear crew to the Blue Star
+Navigation Company if you an' I, Riggins, fail to do our djooty.
+They've half murdered the captain, shtolen the ship an' cargo from
+him, an' run her t'ousands av miles off her course to deliver the coal
+to the German fleet."
+
+"Oh, my bloody ol' Aunt Maria!" gasped the horrified Riggins.
+
+"What I want to know from you, Riggins, is this: Will ye help me
+shteal the ship back to-night? We're runnin' almost due south, an'
+that good-for-nothin' von Staden has been in communication wit' the
+fleet all day long. I feel it in me bones. If we get the ship back
+we'll head due west for the coast av South America an' hug the
+three-mile limit-an' the devil scoort them thin. Riggins, ye gossoon,
+what for the cause av Merry England? They wouldn't take ye for a gift
+in the British Arrmy, for I doubt if ye'd weigh ninety pounds soakin'
+wet an' a rock in yer hand, but for all that, here's an iligant
+opporchunity for ye to serrve yer counthry, an' should worrd av yer
+brave action reach the king--bad cess to him--he may call ye Sir
+Thomas Riggins an' make ye consul-general av the Cannibal Islands.
+
+"Out wit' it, Riggins. Yer king an' counthry calls ye, an' be the same
+token so do Michael J. Murphy an' Terence P. Reardon. What'll ye give,
+Riggins, to preserve the seas to Britain?"
+
+"Me 'eart's blood, that's wot!" Riggins replied quietly.
+
+"I accept the sacrifice in the name av His Majesty, King Jarge! Be on
+deck at ten o'clock sharp, waitin' close undher the shtarboard
+companion leadin' to the bridge. Whin I come out on the shtarboard ind
+av the bridge an' whistle 'O'Donnell Abu,' do ye--"
+
+"S'help me, chief, I never 'eard of the blighter before," Riggins
+interrupted.
+
+"God forgive me!" Mr. Reardon murmured _sotto voce_. "I'll have to do
+it. Well, thin, Riggins, whin I come out on the shtarboard ind av the
+bridge an' whistle 'God Save the King'--troth, I'll gamble that's one
+blighter ye've hearrd tell av--do ye run up into the pilot-house an'
+take the wheel. I'll not whistle until we have the deck to ourselves,
+wit'out fear av intherruption, an' ye must come quick an' take the
+wheel, else the vessel'll fall off into the trough av the sea an'
+commince to wallow--which same'll wake up the second mate an' bring
+him an' von Staden on deck to see what's wrong wit' her. An' until I'm
+ready to call on those lads I'm not wishful to have them call on me!
+Remimber, Riggins: Wan jump an' ye're into the pilot-house; then howld
+her head up to the sea--an' lave the rest to me. Gwan wit' ye now, or
+that skut, Schultz, will be gettin' suspicious av us."
+
+When Mr. Schultz came along ten minutes later he found Mr. Reardon
+very busy calking with oakum the cracks round the door and window of
+his state-room, through which little wisps of yellow smoke were
+curling. Mr. Schultz was so completely deceived that he hurried round
+to his own quarters and pawed over his own mattress and bedding in a
+vain search for bedbugs.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+
+
+At eight o'clock Mr. Schultz relieved the second mate on the bridge,
+and five minutes later Terence Reardon, for the first time invaded
+that forbidden territory. "Bad cess to me!" he complained plaintively.
+"I'm the picthur av bad luck. I've a leaky connection below an' divil
+a bit av red lead. Could ye lind me a dab av red lead from yer
+shtore-room, Misther Schultz?"
+
+Mr. Schultz marvelled that any man could force his mind to dwell on
+red lead, leaky pipe connections, sulphur and bedbugs in a ship like
+the _Narcissus_ at a time like this. He had met a few innocents in his
+day, but this Irish engineer was most innocent of all.
+
+"Sure, Mike!" he replied, and grinned at his feeble play on words.
+"_Und_ as I gannot leave der bridge yet, here iss der key to der
+store-room. Helb yourself, mine _Freund, und_ den gif me der key
+back."
+
+"Ye addie-pated son of sin!" Mr. Reardon soliloquized as he took the
+key and departed. "Faith, a booby birrd has more sinse nor you! D'ye
+suppose I didn't wait until ye were on djooty before axin' ye, well
+knowin' ye'd lind me the key an' I'd be alone in yer shtore-room!"
+
+Mr. Reardon was in the store-room less than two minutes. When he
+emerged he carried a daub of red lead on an old spoon, as Mr. Schultz,
+looking down on the dimly lighted main deck, observed. What he did not
+observe, however, was the chief's action in tossing the spoon
+overboard the instant he passed beyond the range of Mr. Schultz's
+vision. It is probable, also, that the mate would have been disturbed
+could he have seen Mr. Reardon in his state-room, with the door
+locked, removing from beneath his dungaree jumper several fathoms of
+light, strong, cotton signal halyard, two five-foot lengths of
+half-inch steel chain, and a strip of canvas. His pockets also gave up
+two padlocks, with keys to fit. This loot Mr. Reardon very carefully
+hid in the space under his settee, after which, with due thanks, he
+returned the key to Mr. Schultz.
+
+The remainder of the evening until nine-thirty Terence spent in the
+wireless room with Herr von Staden. Then he retired, very low in
+spirits, to his state-room, to make his preparations for wholesale
+assault with a deadly weapon--possibly wholesale murder! He cut the
+signal halyard into short lengths; then he cut the piece of canvas
+into strips about two inches wide and secreted the halyard and canvas
+strips here and there about his person. Then he descended to the
+engine room and selected his monkey wrench from the tool rack on the
+wall, helped himself to a handful of cotton waste, and returned to his
+state-room mournfully keening "The Sorrowful Lamentation of Callaghan,
+Greally and Mullen, killed at the Fair of Turloughmore."
+
+"Wirra," he murmured presently, "but 'tis a terrible thing to hit an
+unsuspectin' man wit' a monkey wrench! An' that divil von Staden, for
+all his faults, is not a bad lad at all at all. An' I'd give five
+dollars--yes, seven an' a half--if he were bald an' shiny on any other
+shpot save an' exceptin' the shpot I have to hit him. Ochone!
+
+
+   "'Come tell me, dearest mother, what makes me father shtay
+    Or what can be th' reason that he's so long away?'
+   'Oh, howld yer tongue, me darlin' son, yer tears do grieve me sore,
+    I fear he has been murdhered in the fair av Turloughmore!'
+
+
+"Sure, I haven't got the heart to dhrive the head av this monkey
+wrench into that bald shpot. If he'd hair there I wouldn't mind." Mr.
+Reardon sighed dismally. "I'll have to wrap a waddin' av waste around
+me weapon, so I'll neither kill nor mangle but lay thim out wit' wan
+good crack--
+
+
+   "'It is on the firrst av August, the truth I will declare,
+    Those people they assimbled that day all at the fair,
+    But little was their notion that evil was in shtore,
+    All by the bloody Peelers at the fair av Turloughmore.'
+
+
+"I must practice crackin' the divils! Sure, 'twould be an awful thing
+to have the sin av murrder on me sowl--not that 'tis murrder to kill a
+Dutchman that's a self-confessed pirate into the bargain. Shtill, 'tis
+a terrible t'ought to carry to the grave--"
+
+Wham! Mr. Reardon brought his padded wrench down on his defenseless
+bed. "Too harrd," he told himself. "Sure a blow like that on top av
+the head would knock out the teeth av the divil himself! Less
+horse-power, Terence!"
+
+Wham! He tried it again, this time with better results. For five
+minutes he beat the bedclothes; then his spirits rose and, like the
+mercurial Celt that he was, he chanted blithely a verse from "The
+Night Before Larry Was Stretched":
+
+
+   "'Though, sure 'tis the best way to die,
+        Oh, the divil a betther a-livin'!
+    For sure whin the gallows is high,
+        Your journey is shorter to heaven;
+    But what harasses Larry the most,
+        An' makes his poor sowl melancholy,
+    Is to think av the time whin his ghost
+        Will come in a sheet to sweet Molly!
+            Oh, sure, 'twill kill her alive!'"
+
+
+He slipped the short, heavy monkey wrench up his right sleeve, walked
+out on deck and stood at the corner of the house, smoking placidly and
+gazing down on the main deck forward. The look-out on the forecastle
+head was not visible in the darkness, but Mr. Reardon was not worried
+about that. "For why," he argued to himself, "should I go lookin' for
+the skut whin if I wait a bit he'll come fluttherin' into me hand?"
+
+He did. At five minutes after ten Mr. Schultz hailed the look-out in
+German, and although Mr. Reardon spoke no German, yet did he
+understand that order. Mr. Schultz, a victim of habit, desired the
+look-out to go to the galley and bring up some hot coffee for him and
+the helmsman. It was the custom aboard the _Narcissus_, as it is in
+most Pacific Coast boats, for the cook, just before retiring, to brew
+a pot of coffee, drain off the grounds and leave it to simmer on the
+galley range where, at intervals of two hours during the night, the
+watch could come and help itself.
+
+Terence Reardon knew that the look-out, after heating the coffee and
+bringing a few cups up on the bridge, would return to the galley and
+partake of a cup and a bite himself.
+
+The man came down off the forecastle head, crossed the main deck and
+disappeared in the galley. In about ten minutes Mr. Reardon saw him
+climb up the port companion to the bridge; a minute later he came
+down. Mr. Reardon waited until he was certain the fellow was sipping
+his coffee in the galley; then with the utmost nonchalance he went up
+on the bridge and hailed Mr. Schultz, who was standing amidships
+blowing on a cup of coffee.
+
+"Begorra," he complained, "Divil a wink can I shleep to-night. I've
+been sittin' wit' the wireless operator all evenin', an' now, thinks
+I, he's weary listenin' to me nonsinse, so I'll go up on the bridge
+an' interview Misther Schultz. If I--be the Rock av Cashel! What was
+that?"
+
+"Vot? Vere?" Mr. Schultz exclaimed, and set down his cup of coffee. He
+was all excitement, for he had been looking for the flash of a
+searchlight for the past hour and he wondered now if the unsuspecting
+Reardon had seen it first.
+
+"Over that way." Mr. Reardon pointed off the port bow. "Did ye not see
+that light?"
+
+"A light. _Gott im Himmel!_"
+
+"Ye can't see it now," Mr. Reardon replied soothingly.  He stepped
+round to the back of the mate and permitted his trusty monkey wrench
+to slip down into his hand. "But if ye continue to look in that
+direction, Misther Schultz, ye'll see not wan light but several."
+
+"_Donnerwetter!_ I gannot see dem," Mr. Schultz protested, wondering
+if there might not be some defect in his eyesight.
+
+"Have no fear. Keep lookin' that way an' ye'll see thim," Mr. Reardon
+reassured him. "Ha-ha, ye divil!" he crooned--and struck.
+
+"I'll gamble ye saw the lights I promised ye," he breathed into the
+ear of the unconscious mate as he deftly caught the falling body and
+eased it noiselessly to the deck to avoid calling the attention of the
+helmsman to the interesting tableau going on behind him. Quickly he
+gagged Mr. Schultz with a strip of canvas; then he tied his hands
+behind him and bound him at ankle and knee with the short lengths of
+signal halyard. As a final attention he "frisked" the mate and removed
+his keys and a heavy automatic pistol.
+
+"Lie there now, me jewel," he said, and trotted out to the starboard
+end of the bridge, whistling shrilly "God Save the King." When the
+swift patter of feet along the deck warned him that the steward was
+coming, he walked back amidships and opened the little sliding trap in
+the roof of the pilot-house, which on the _Narcissus_ was set just
+below the bridge. The quartermaster's head was directly beneath the
+trap. "Oh-ho, me laddybuck!" Mr. Reardon murmured, and dropped his
+padded monkey wrench on that defenseless head. Instantly the
+quartermaster staggered and hung limply to the wheel.
+
+"Bad luck to me, I'll have to hit ye agin," Mr.  Reardon complained
+--and did it. Then he slid through the trap into the pilot-house,
+steadied the wheel with one hand and unlocked the pilot-house door
+with the other to admit the steward.
+
+"Strike me pink!" that astounded functionary exclaimed as he gazed at
+the quartermaster lying beside the wheel.
+
+"I will--if ye don't take howld av this wheel an' do less talkln',"
+Mr. Reardon replied evenly. "Bring her round very slowly, me lad, an'
+in the intherval I'll wrap up me little Baby Bunting on the floor
+forninst ye."
+
+When the quartermaster had been duly wrapped _a la_ Mr. Schultz and
+dragged clear of the wheel, Mr. Reardon returned to the bridge and
+with brazen impudence set the handle of the marine telegraph over to
+full speed ahead. He hummed "Colleen Dhas Cruthin Amoe" as with a
+light heart he skipped down to the galley and found the look-out
+eating bread soaked in coffee. Mr. Reardon nodded and said "Good
+nicht, _amigo_" for his voyages had taken him to many ports and he was
+naturally quick at picking up foreign languages. The fellow,
+concluding Mr. Reardon desired a cup of coffee also, turned to the
+rack to get him a cup.
+
+"How dare ye ate up the owners' groceries in this shameful manner?"
+Mr. Reardon demanded. "Do ye not get enough at mess that ye must be
+atin' between meals? Shame on you--"
+
+One tap did the trick. "'Tis a black way to repay a kind t'ought," Mr.
+Reardon observed to his victim as he bound and gagged him; "but war is
+war, an' a faint heart an' a weak stomach never shtole a ship back
+from forty German pirates!"
+
+He closed the galley door on the unfortunate look-out and climbed up
+on the boat deck to get Michael J. Murphy out of prison. Cautiously he
+unlocked the state-room door with the key taken from Mr. Schultz, and
+the skipper came forth. Mr. Reardon led him under an electric light
+and gazed upon him wonderingly.
+
+"Begorra, Michael, me poor lad," he whispered, "be the look av the
+white face of you I'm thinkin' ye ought to be in bed instid av out
+raisin' ructions."
+
+"I'm weak; I have a fever," Murphy replied. "Still, half that fever
+may be plain lunatic rage. Did you find a gun on the mate?"
+
+"I did. Take it, Michael, I'll have nothin' to do wit' it."
+
+The skipper grasped the weapon eagerly. "The ship is headed due west
+undher full speed," Terence explained, "an' the mate, the
+quarter-master an' the look-out have all received evidence av me
+affectionate regard. Next!"
+
+"Von Staden. He kicked me and broke my ribs, Terence."
+
+"Wit' the greatest joy in life, Michael. The skut's busy in the
+wireless room."
+
+So they went to the wireless room. Von Staden was taking a message as
+they entered; at sound of their footsteps he turned carelessly and
+found himself looking down the muzzle of the captain's automatic.
+
+"Will ye take it peaceably, ye gossoon, or must I brain ye wit' this
+monkey wrench?" Mr. Reardon queried fiercely.
+
+"And take your hand off that key, you blackguard.  No S O S," Murphy
+ordered.
+
+The supercargo stared at them impudently. "This," he said presently,
+"is one of those inconceivable contingencies."
+
+"Your early education was neglected, Dutchy. However, don't complain
+and say I didn't give you warning. Terence!"
+
+"What is it, Michael?"
+
+"All well-regulated ships carry a few sets of handcuffs and leg irons.
+If you will put your hand in my right hip pocket, Terence, lad, you'll
+find a pair for present emergencies. They were in my desk and I
+concluded to bring them along."
+
+"An' a pious t'ought it was, Michael."
+
+So they handcuffed Herr August Carl von Staden and gagged him, after
+which Mr. Reardon, leaving the skipper to guard his prisoner, ran
+round to his own room and got the two lengths of chain and the
+padlocks. When he returned, Michael J. Murphy kicked his unwelcome
+supercargo to the mate's store-room and Mr. Reardon locked him in
+among the paint pots, pipe, old iron and other odds and ends which
+accumulate in a mate's store-room.
+
+They went next to the door of the forecastle. It was open--and, what
+was better, it opened inward. Also, it was of steel with a stout brass
+ring on the lock, this ring taking the place of what on a landsman's
+door would have been a knob.
+
+Terence Reardon and Michael J. Murphy listened.  From within came a
+medley of gentle sighs, snores and the slow, regular breathing of
+sleeping men. Softly Mr. Reardon closed the door, turned the ring
+until the latch caught, drew a section of chain through the ring in
+such a manner as to prevent the latch from being released, passed the
+ends of his chain round the steel handrail along the front of the
+forecastle and padlocked them there.
+
+"Now, thin," Mr. Reardon announced, "that takes care av the carpenter,
+the bos'n, four seamen, two waiters an' the mess bhoy. Do ye wait here
+a minute, Michael, lad, whilst I run up on the bridge and give that
+unmintionable Schultz the wanst over."
+
+The weak, half-dead Murphy sat down on the hatch coaming and waited.
+The chief was away about ten minutes and the captain was on the point
+of investigating when Mr. Reardon appeared.
+
+"That unfortunate divil had come to, an' was lookin' an' feelin' cowld
+whin I wint up on the bridge," he explained, "so I wint to me room an'
+got a pair av blankets to wrap round him where he lay. It's wan thing
+to tap a man on the head, but 'tis another to let him catch his death
+av cowld."
+
+Captain Murphy smiled. Ordinarily he would have laughed at the
+whimsical Terence, but he didn't have a good laugh left in him. His
+lung was hurting, so he suspected an abscess.
+
+They returned to the boat deck, and with his rule Mr. Reardon
+carefully measured the exact distance between the ship's rail and the
+center of the doors of the state-rooms occupied by the mates and
+assistant engineers. This detail attended to, they went to the
+carpenter's little shop and cut two scantlings of a length to
+correspond to the measurements taken, and in addition Mr. Reardon
+prepared some thin cleats with countersunk holes for the insertion of
+screws. He worked very leisurely, and it was eleven o'clock when he
+had everything in readiness.
+
+"There's nothin' to do now until midnight, whin the watch in the
+ingine room is changed," Mr. Reardon suggested, "so lave us go to the
+galley. Wan av me brave lads is in there, an' if he's not dead
+intirely, faith, I'm thinkin' I might injoy a cup av coffee!"
+
+So they went to the galley and found the look-out glaring at them. He
+made inarticulate noises behind his gag, so Mr. Reardon, much
+relieved, found seats for each of them and poured coffee. Then he
+filled his pipe, crossed his right leg over his left knee and puffed
+away. He was the speaking likeness of Contentment. And well he might
+be.
+
+The first assistant engineer had been driving the _Narcissus_ for an
+hour at full speed at right angles to the course he believed she was
+pursuing. He would, being totally ignorant of the change of masters,
+continue to drive her at full speed until midnight, when he would come
+off watch, tired and sleepy, and go straight to his state-room. The
+second assistant would go direct from his state-room to duty in the
+engine-room and continue to drive the _Narcissus_ at full speed until
+four o'clock, and inasmuch as it would be quite dark still when the
+third assistant came on at four o'clock to relieve the engineer on
+watch, there was not the slightest doubt in the minds of Murphy and
+the chief but that the deception could go on until breakfast. However,
+that would interfere with their plans. Long before that hour the men
+locked in the forecastle would have discovered their plight, and the
+noise of the discovery might reach below decks and bring up, to
+investigate, just a few more husky firemen and coal passers than even
+the redoubtable Terence Reardon could hope to cope with successfully.
+
+"By four o'clock we'll be more than fifty miles off the course Schultz
+was holding her on," the captain suggested. "In all likelihood the
+German admiral wirelessed his last position and the course he was
+steering, and von Staden gave Schultz his course accordingly."
+
+"Faith, we're not a moment too soon at that," Mr.  Reardon replied.
+"Schultz was lookin' for searchlights whin I tapped him. Be the Toe
+Nails av Moses ye're right, Michael. We'll be so far off that course
+be daylight they won't even see our shmoke. D'ye think that little
+handful av bones, Riggins, can manage the wheel until we've claned up
+the ingine-room gang? We can relieve him wit' wan av the Chinamen
+then."
+
+"Tell him he'll have to stick it out. And by the way, Terence, come to
+think of it, you had better run forward and remove the sidelights;
+then unscrew all of the incandescent lamps on deck until the contact
+is lost. You can screw them in again just before the watch is changed,
+so they won't suspect anything, and unscrew them again after we have
+the watch under lock and key. The fleet may be too far away to see our
+smoke by daylight, but they may be close enough to see our lights
+to-night! Tell Riggins to darken the pilot-house. The binnacle light
+is enough to keep him company."
+
+"Thrue for ye," Terence replied, and hurried away to carry out
+Murphy's instructions.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+
+
+
+At twelve o'clock the second assistant engineer, hurrying along the
+deck to relieve the first assistant on watch, found Mr. Reardon
+leaning over the rail meditatively puffing his old briar pipe. In
+answer to the former's query as to what kept the chief up so late, the
+latter replied that he was burning sulphur in his room to kill
+bedbugs.
+
+"The good Lord forgive me the lie," he prayed when a few minutes later
+he was called upon by the first assistant, hurrying off watch, to
+repeat the same tale.
+
+The first assistant and his watch had a shower-bath and turned in.
+They were not interested in the workings of the deck department in the
+dark; they could not know that the vessel's course had been changed;
+they thought only of getting to sleep. Mr. Reardon waited until
+one-thirty A. M. to provide against possible sleepless ones, and then
+crept aft on velvet feet. The _Narcissus_ had very commodious quarters
+in her stern, where her coolie crew had been housed in the days when
+she ran in the China trade; and when the Blue Star Navigation Company
+took her over these quarters had been fitted up to accommodate the
+engine room crew. In the same manner, therefore, that he had
+imprisoned the men of the deck department in the forecastle, Mr.
+Reardon now proceeded to imprison the men of the engine department in
+the sterncastle. This delicate mission accomplished, he went up
+top-side and measured the diameter of the ventilators, in order to
+make certain that the thinnest of his German canaries could not fly
+the cage via that difficult route. Having satisfied himself that he
+had no need to worry on this score, he made his way forward again.
+
+"Well, Michael, me poor lad," he announced as he rejoined the skipper,
+"I'll tell you wan thing--an' it isn't two. The crew av the
+_Narcissus_ off watch at this minute will never come on watch
+ag'in--in the _Narcissus_."
+
+The skipper smiled wanly. "I'm sorry you must take all the risks and
+do all the work, Terence," he replied.
+
+"Gwan wit' ye, Michael. Sure if I had a head on me like you, an' a
+college edication in back av that ag'in, I'd be out playin' golf this
+minute wit' Andhrew Carnegie an' Jawn D. Rockefeller--ayther that, or
+I'd have been hung for walkin' away wit' the Treasury Buildin'."
+
+They discussed the remaining details of that portion of the ship
+cleaning still before them. "Remember, Terence," Mike Murphy warned
+the chief, "when the blow-off comes at four o'clock and the uproar
+commences fore and aft, we have the means to keep them quiet. I'll go
+forward and you go aft. When we threaten to throw burning sulphur down
+the ventilators and suffocate them, they'll sing soft and low!"
+
+Mr. Reardon chuckled. "An' Schultz t'ought I was afther bedbugs whin I
+asked the shteward for the sulphur," he replied. "Shtill an' all,
+Michael," he added, a trifle wistfully, "I could wish for a bit more
+excitement, considerin' the size av the job."
+
+"Don't worry, Terry, you may get it yet. I'm dizzy and weak, chief;
+I'm fearful I'll not be able to last out the night--and these Germans
+are desperate. Suppose we go forward now, while I'm able, and awaken
+Mr. Henckel. It's high time he relieved Mr. Schultz, and he'll be
+waking naturally if we let him oversleep much longer."
+
+The subjugation of Mr. Henckel was accomplished without the slightest
+excitement or bloodshed. Mr. Reardon rapped at his door and Mr.
+Henckel replied sleepily in German. The skipper and the chief merely
+lurked, one on each side of his state-room door, until he stepped
+briskly out; whereupon the captain jabbed him with the gun while Mr.
+Reardon shook the monkey wrench under his nose. Indeed, Mr. Reardon
+had the gag in the second mate's mouth even while it hung open in
+surprise. They bound him hand and foot, and Mr. Reardon picked him up
+and tucked him gently in his berth, for, as the chief remarked to him,
+he was as safe there as anywhere and far more comfortable, although
+Mike Murphy objected and was for putting him in the mate's store-room
+with von Staden, whom they had put in the dirtiest and most
+unwholesome spot aboard the _Narcissus_, for two reasons: In the first
+place, he had kicked Michael J. Murphy and shot him through the
+shoulder; and in the second place, he was the cleanest German and the
+most wholesome pirate they had ever seen, and they figured the
+contrast would annoy him. Mr. Reardon, however, objected to this plan.
+He argued that von Staden would be glad of Mr. Henckel's company, and
+was it not their original intention to keep that laddybuck von Staden
+in solitary confinement? It was. They closed the state-room door on
+Mr. Henckel, and left him to meditate on his sins while they repaired
+to the carpenter's little shop, to return to the boat deck presently
+with the scantlings and cleats Mr. Reardon had prepared.
+
+With the scantling the chief shored up the doors to the state-room
+occupied respectively at the time by the first and third assistant
+engineers; then he screwed the cleats into place at top and bottom, so
+the scantling could not slip. Not for worlds would he have used a
+hammer to nail them into place, for that would have spoiled the
+surprise for the objects of his attentions. Throughout the entire
+operation he was as silent as a burglar, although by way of additional
+precaution the captain stood by with drawn pistol.
+
+"Now thin, Michael," Mr. Reardon whispered as they pussy-footed away,
+"there are six fine Germans below in the ingine room, an' two Irishmen
+an' half an Englishman on deck. The Chinee cooks don't count, for sure
+the poor heathens would only get excited and turrn somebody loose if
+we asked them to do anything desperate. And, as ye know, wan good
+Irishman--and bad luck to the man that says I am not that--can keep a
+hundhred Germans from comin' up out av that ingine room. Go to yer
+bed, Michael, an' lie down until I call ye."
+
+"Better take this automatic," Murphy suggested, and showed him how to
+use it.
+
+But Mr. Reardon resolutely refused to abandon his monkey wrench,
+although he consented to carry the automatic to Riggins in the
+pilot-house. The estimable Riggins had been steering a somewhat
+erratic course, for he found it impossible to keep his eye on the
+lubber's mark while the bound quartermaster glared balefully at him
+from the floor. Indeed Riggins had been pondering his fate should that
+husky Teuton ever get the upper hand again; hence, when he found
+himself in a state of preparedness and was informed that he must stick
+by the wheel until relieved, the prospect did not awe him in the
+least. The present odds were counterbalanced by the strategic position
+held by the minority, and Riggins was content.
+
+On his way back to his state-room, there to rest until the final call
+to arms, Michael J. Murphy concluded it would be well to search the
+quarters of the second mate and Herr von Staden for contraband of war.
+So he did, with the result that he unearthed in von Staden's room the
+rifle and revolver which belonged to the _Narcissus_, and under the
+second mate's pillow he found another automatic pistol. He confiscated
+all three weapons by right of discovery, and hid the rifle in the
+galley, the last place anybody would think of looking for it.
+
+In the meantime Mr. Reardon proceeded further to strengthen his
+position by closing the port entrance to the engine room and shoring
+up the door with a stout scantling, cleated at top and bottom to hold
+it securely in place. Then he donned Mr. Schultz's heavy watchcoat,
+dragged round from the lee of the house the upholstered easy-chair
+Mrs. Reardon had insisted upon his taking to sea with him for use in
+his leisure moments, placed this chair on deck just outside the
+starboard entrance to the engine room, loaded his pipe, laid his
+trusty monkey wrench across his knee and gave himself up to the
+contemplation of this riot we call life. He resembled a cat watching
+beside a gopher hole. By half-past three o'clock he had finished
+figuring out approximately the amount of money Mrs. Reardon would have
+in the Hibernia Bank at the end of five years--figuring on a monthly
+saving of fifty dollars and interest compounded at the rate of four
+per cent. So, having satisfied himself that Johnny would yet be a
+lawyer and the girls learn to play the piano, Mr. Reardon heaved a
+sigh and reluctantly went to call Michael J. Murphy for the final
+accounting.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+
+
+
+At ten minutes to four Mr. Uhl, the second assistant, a man of some
+thirty years and ordinarily possessed of a disposition as placid as
+that of a little Jersey heifer, ordered one of his firemen to go and
+call the watch to relieve them. Mr. Reardon, his monkey wrench firmly
+grasped in his right hand, knew that at exactly ten minutes to four
+Mr. Uhl would issue that order--so he was on the spot to receive the
+fireman as the latter came leisurely up the greasy steel stairway. As
+the fellow emerged on deck he paused to wipe his heated brow with a
+sweat rag and draw in a welcome breath of cool fresh air. He did not
+succeed in getting his lungs quite full, however, for Michael J.
+Murphy, lurking beside the door, thrust the barrel of his gun in the
+fireman's ribs, effectually curtailing the process of respiration
+practically at once. From the other side of the door the chief
+engineer stepped out and wagged his bludgeon under the fireman's nose.
+
+"_Ach!_" Mr. Reardon coughed, and grimaced pleasantly. "_Schmierkase
+und Sauerkraut_, ye big shtiff! _Vat wilse du haben_, eh? _Zwei bier?_
+Damn the weather, as Misther Schultz would say."
+
+He laid his finger on his lips, enjoining silence; then with the same
+finger he pointed sternly onward, and the fireman took the hint. In
+the clear space aft the house and next to the funnel Mr. Reardon bound
+and gagged him and laid him tenderly on his back to await
+developments.
+
+"Now thin, Michael," he said to the skipper, "lave us go back an' see
+can we catch another. At four o'clock, whin this lad fails to return,
+Misther Uhl, the omadhaun, will sind up another man to see what the
+divil ails the firrst man."
+
+And it was even so. This time it was the oiler.
+
+At five minutes after four a coal passer came up the stairs, and he
+was swearing at the delay in being relieved. Something told Mr.
+Reardon this fellow would make trouble, so without warning he hit the
+coal passer a light rap "to take the conceit out av him." Two minutes
+later the coal passer had joined his fellows beside the funnel.
+
+At a quarter after four Mr. Uhl scratched his head and said something
+very explosive in German. He started up the stairs, got halfway
+up--and came down. It had occurred to him very suddenly that three men
+had already gone up the stairs and had failed to return. He called a
+fireman and gave him some very explicit orders in German; whereupon
+the man disappeared in the shaft alley. Five minutes later he
+returned, pop-eyed with excitement and the bearer of a tale that
+caused Mr. Uhl to arch his blond eyebrows and murmur dazedly "_So?_"
+
+Ten minutes passed. Mr. Reardon glanced interrogatively at Michael J.
+Murphy. "I think the divils are suspicious," he whispered. "We should
+have had another be now. Have a care now, Michael. Whin they come they
+come wit' a rush an'--"
+
+A pistol shot echoed through the ship. It came up  from forward. Three
+more followed in rapid succession--a scream--a shout!
+
+"May the divil damn me!" Terence Reardon cried in a horrified voice.
+"I clane forgot the little companion hatch at the ind av the shaft
+alley. They've crawled down the shaft alley an' up on deck at the very
+sterrn av the ship!"
+
+He dashed aft towards the spot where his prisoners were laid out close
+to the funnel. As he turned the corner of the house he observed that
+the electric lamp which he had so carefully screwed out of its socket
+had been screwed in again, and by its light Terence beheld no less a
+person than Mr. Uhl cutting the halyards that bound the oiler. The
+fireman had already been cut loose, but the potent effects of Terence
+Reardon's blow with the wrench still remained; though conscious, the
+man was unfit for combat. The coal passer, evidently the first man to
+be rescued by Mr. Uhl, was standing by.
+
+"Gower that, ye divils!" Mr. Reardon shrieked, and charged, swinging
+his monkey wrench with all his horsepower. He missed his first stroke
+at Mr. Uhl, who very deftly stabbed him high up on the hip for his
+carelessness; then the chief swung again, and Mr. Uhl was out of the
+fight.
+
+Not so the big coal passer, however. He planted in Terence Reardon's
+face as pretty a left and right--hay-makers both--as one could hope to
+see anywhere outside a prize-ring; whereupon the chief took the count
+with great abruptness. The fireman reached for the monkey wrench--and
+at that instant the weak, pale-faced skipper lurched around the corner
+of the house and his automatic commenced to bark.
+
+It was not a time for sentiment. Michael J. Murphy glanced once at
+Terence Reardon's bloody, upturned face, and the glazed eyes thrilled
+him with horror. The chief engineer was dead! That meant that Michael
+J. Murphy would soon be dead, too. Well, they had fought a good fight
+and lost, so nothing now remained for him to do save slaughter as many
+of the enemy as possible and go to his accounting like a gentleman.
+
+He turned his back on the heap of bloody, prostrate men, stepped over
+a little rivulet of gore that ran rapidly toward the scupper as the
+ship heeled to port, then hesitated and started back as she heeled to
+starboard. He was vaguely conscious that Mr. Uhl had shut down his
+engines before coming on deck and that in consequence the ship had
+lost headway and was beginning to wallow. In his weak state her
+plunging caused him to stagger like a drunken man. As he crossed to
+the port side of the ship and gazed down the deck he noticed that the
+incandescent lamps had all been screwed back in their sockets, and by
+their brilliant light he beheld one of the firemen in the act of
+removing the scantling from before the first assistant's door. Just as
+the door swung open the captain fired, but evidently missed, for the
+man sprang nimbly into the state-room for safety.
+
+If the great European War has proved nothing else to date, it has
+demonstrated one comforting thing about the German people: one does
+not grow impatient waiting for them to carry the fight to him. The
+fireman had no sooner entered the first assistant's state-room than
+the first assistant came out. He was wearing his pajamas and a piece
+of young artillery, and without the slightest embarrassment he
+commenced shooting at Michael J. Murphy, who, not to be outdone in
+politeness while he could stand and see, promptly returned the
+compliment.
+
+The first assistant's first shot nipped a neat little crescent out of
+Mike Murphy's large red right ear; his second ripped clean through the
+inside of the skipper's left leg.
+
+"High and then low," was the thought that capered through Mike
+Murphy's brain. "God grant he don't get me through the middle! That's
+what comes of fast shooting--so I guess I'll go slow."
+
+The electric lamp over his head was shattered and the fragments
+scattered round him as he leaned against the corner of the house and
+took careful aim at the first assistant, who missed his next shot by a
+whisker and died in his tracks with two cartridges still in his gun.
+
+Dazedly Michael J. Murphy advanced along the deck, stepped over the
+body and entered the state-room. In the corner the fireman crouched,
+hands uplifted in token of surrender, so the skipper closed the door
+and shored it up again with the scantling. Mechanically he picked up
+the first assistant's huge revolver, broke it, removed the cartridges
+and threw them overboard. Then he slipped a clip of seven cartridges
+into his automatic and staggered round to Mr. Henckel's state room.
+
+The door was open. The bird had flown.
+
+Michael J. Murphy went in and sat down on Mr.  Henckel's settee, for
+he was very weak and dizzy; and at least nobody could shoot at him in
+there. "Come, come, Michael," he croaked, "no going out this voyage.
+You have work ahead of you. Pull yourself together and let us count
+noses. Now then, there were two firemen, two coal passers, one oiler
+and Mr. Uhl on watch. Terence killed Mr. Uhl with the monkey wrench, I
+killed the big coal passer, I think I killed the oiler, and one
+fireman was out of the scrap from the beginning. Then I killed the
+first assistant and locked the other fireman in his room. That leaves
+Mr. Henckel and a coal passer to be reckoned with. Now there was some
+shooting up forward and somebody was hit. That means Riggins shot
+somebody or somebody shot Riggins. The second mate probably went
+forward to let the men out of the forecastle, while the fireman went
+aft to let the engine-room gang out of the sterncastle. They haven't
+had time to do it yet; they'll have to pry those rings out of the door
+with a crowbar. I'll go aft and drive the fireman forward; when I have
+them bunched I'll argue with them."
+
+He arrived at the break of the house and looked down on the deck aft.
+The lights had been turned on and a man was just raising a short
+crowbar to attack the door, from behind which came shouts and cries of
+anger and consternation.
+
+Mike Murphy rested his automatic on the deck rail and fired twice at
+the man in front of the sterncastle door. The fellow fled at once
+dashing along the deck, zigzag fashion, to distract the skipper's aim,
+and disappeared in the dark entrance to the starboard alleyway. So
+Michael J. Murphy slid down the companion and followed into the
+alleyway, firing two shots for luck as he came.
+
+Scarcely had he disappeared into the murk amidships when Terence
+Reardon rolled groggily down the companion after him. Terence had no
+means of ascertaining which alleyway the skipper had charged into--and
+he did not care. Blind with fury he lurched into the port alleyway; in
+consequence of which the fugitive, fleeing ahead of the captain down
+the starboard alleyway and thinking to turn down the port alleyway and
+double back to complete his labors at the sterncastle door, bumped
+squarely into the chief engineer.
+
+Mr. Reardon said no word, but wrapped his arms round the man and held
+the latter close to his breast.
+
+Thus for a moment they stood, gripping each other, each wondering
+whether the other was friend or foe.
+
+Then Mr. Reardon decided that even if his nose was bloody he could not
+possibly be mistaken in the odor of a fireman just come off watch. He
+had lost his monkey wrench in the _melee_ on the upper deck--the
+defunct Mr. Uhl having fallen upon it, thereby obscuring it from Mr.
+Reardon's very much befogged vision, but his soul was still undaunted,
+for Mr. Reardon, in common with most chief engineers still in their
+prime, firmly believed that he could trounce any fireman he saw fit to
+employ. He bit suddenly into the fireman's cheek just where the flesh
+droops in a fold over the lower jaw, and was fortunate enough to
+secure a grip that bade fair to hold; then he crooked his leg at the
+back of his opponent's and slowly shoved the fellow's head backward.
+They came down together, Mr. Reardon on top, content for once to hold
+his man helpless--and rest--while his enemy's shrieks of pain and rage
+resounded through the ink-black alleyway.
+
+Michael J. Murphy heard that uproar and halted.  After listening a few
+seconds he came to the conclusion that a German was in deep distress,
+and that hence it was no part of his business to interfere. Besides,
+he had business of his own to attend to. He could hear a chain
+rattling up forward, and while it was too dark to see who or what was
+doing the rattling, he found Mr. Henckel guilty on mere suspicion, and
+fired at the sound; whereupon somebody said "_Ach, Gott!_" in tones of
+deep disgust, two little flashes of fire cut the dark, and two bullets
+whispered of death as they flew harmlessly down the alleyway.
+
+Instantly Mike Murphy returned the salute, firing at the other's
+flashes; then he fell to the deck and rolled over into the scupper to
+escape the return fire, which was not slow in coming.
+
+"I wonder where the devil he got that gun," was Murphy's comment. "Mr.
+Uhl must have had it in his pocket and lent it to him."
+
+There was profound silence within the forecastle, and pending the
+destruction of his attacker Mr. Henckel judged it imprudent to make
+any further attempts at a delivery. He required time to formulate a
+plan of attack, and in the interim he desired shelter. Mike Murphy
+heard the patter of feet, the patter ceasing almost as soon as it
+commenced--and he smiled grimly.
+
+"He's hiding," the captain soliloquized. "Now, where would I take
+shelter if I were in his fix? Why, back of the hatch-coaming, of
+course--or the winch." He had a sudden inspiration and called aloud:
+
+"Riggins! Riggins! Answer me, Riggins. This is Captain Murphy calling
+you."
+
+"'Ere, sir," came the voice of Riggins from the pilot-house  above.
+The voice was very weak.
+
+"Climb out of the pilot-house, Riggins, to the bridge, turn on the
+searchlight and bend it down here on the deck till I get a shot at
+this scoundrel. Don't be afraid of him, Riggins. It's Henckel and he
+can't shoot for beans. Get the light fair on him and keep it on him;
+it'll blind him and he won't be able to shoot you."
+
+"The dirty dawg!" snarled Riggins wearily. "'E come up on the bridge a
+while--ago--an' I drove 'im off--but 'e plugged me, sir--through the
+guts, sir--an' me a married man! Wot in 'ell'll my ol' woman--say--"
+
+And that was the last word Riggins ever spoke.  True, he managed to
+crawl out of the pilot-house and up the short companion to the bridge;
+he reached the searchlight, and while Mr. Henckel and Mike Murphy
+swapped shots below him he turned on the switch.
+
+"Bend it on the deck, Riggins. On the deck, my bully, on the deck,"
+Mike Murphy pleaded as the great beam of white light shot skyward and
+remained there; nor could all of Murphy's pleading induce Riggins to
+bend it on the deck, for Riggins was lying dead beside the
+searchlight, while ten miles away an officer on the flying bridge of
+H.M.S. Panther watched that finger of light pointing and beckoning
+with each roll of the ship.
+
+"Something awf'lly queer, what?" he commented when reporting it to his
+superior.
+
+"Rather," the superior replied laconically. "It can't be the Dresden
+and neither is it one of ours. We'll skip over and have a look at her,
+Reggie, my son."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+
+
+
+Michael J. Murphy had two shots left in his automatic,  and he was
+saving those for daylight and Mr. Henckel's rush, when a searchlight
+came nickering and feeling its way across the dark waters. Slowly,
+slowly it lifted and rested on the big blunt bows of the _Narcissus_,
+hovered there a few seconds and came slowly aft, and as it lighted up
+the main deck Mr. Henckel rose from behind the hatch-coaming.
+
+"_Deutschland uber Alles!" he yelled joyously--and rushed.
+
+Terence Reardon, having pounded his firemen into insensibility, had
+crept down the port alleyway, and, unknown to Captain Murphy and Mr.
+Henckel, he had, from the opposite side of the deck, watched the
+flashes of their pistols as they fired at each other.
+
+"I'll have to flank that fella an' put a shtop to this nonsense," Mr.
+Reardon decided presently, and forthwith crept across the deck on his
+hands and knees until he reached the hatch-coaming. Mr. Henckel lurked
+just round the other corner of the coaming, so close Mr. Reardon could
+hear him breathing. And there the crafty chief had waited until Mr.
+Henckel rose for his charge--whereupon Mr. Reardon rose also.
+
+"Ireland upper always, ye vagabone!" he yelled, and launched himself
+at Mr. Henckel's knees. It was a perfect tackle and the second mate
+went down heavily.
+
+In an emergency such as the present all Terence Reardon asked was good
+fighting light. Fighting in the dark distressed him, he discovered,
+for while polishing off the fireman in the black alleyway he had
+missed one punch at the fellow's head, and had been reminded to his
+sorrow and the ruin of his knuckles, that the deck of the Narcissus
+was of good Norway pine. However, H.M.S. Panther was scarcely three
+cable lengths distant now, and the officer on her flying bridge could
+see that some sort of a jolly row was in progress on the deck of the
+Narcissus; so he kept the searchlight on the combatants while Mr.
+Reardon bent Mr. Henckel's back over the hatch-coaming, took his
+automatic away from him, and proceeded to take a cast of the mate's
+features in the vulcanite butt of the weapon. And vulcanite is far
+from soft!
+
+When Terence Reardon had completed his self-appointed  task he stood
+up, hitched his dungarees, spat blood on the deck, and stood waving
+from side to side like a dancing bear. His face was unrecognizable;
+his dungarees, so neat and clean when he donned them the night before,
+were now one vast smear of red, and he grinned horribly, for he was
+war mad!
+
+"Next!" he croaked, and turned to the master for orders.
+
+But Michael Joseph Murphy was out of the fight.  He lay prone on the
+deck, conscious but helpless, and because his broken rib was tickling
+his lung the froth on his lips bore a little tinge of pink. Only his
+eyes moved--and they smiled at Terence Reardon as the triumphant
+exiles of Erin faced each other.
+
+Terence Reardon turned and shook his battered fists full into the rays
+of the searchlight. He was magnificent for one brief instant; then the
+war-madness left him, and again he was plain, faithful, whimsical,
+capable, honest Terence P. Reardon, chief engineer of the S.S.
+Narcissus, who considered it a pleasure to discourse on the fairies
+when he had nothing more important to do. Now that the fight was over
+and the German fleet had overhauled them at last, he had time to think
+of Mrs. Reardon and the children and his best job gone for
+ever--tossed into the discard with his honor as a faithful servant.
+
+He sat down very suddenly on the hatch-coaming and covered his
+terrible face with his terrible hands.
+
+"Ah, Norah! Norah!" he cried--and sobbed as if his heart must break.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+
+
+
+When Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara, of H.M.S.  Panther, boarded the
+steamer Narcissus via the Jacob's ladder Mr. Reardon hove overside at
+his command, he paused a moment, balanced on the ship's rail, and
+stared.
+
+"My word!" he said, and leaped to the deck, to make room for a
+pink-and-white middy. The pink-and-white one stared and said "My
+aunt!" Then he, too, leaped to the deck, and a stocky cockney
+blue-jacket poked his nose over the rail.
+
+"Damn my eyes!" said this individual. "'Ere's a bloomin' mess!"
+
+"Who is that person?" Captain Desmond O'Hara demanded, pointing to the
+semiconscious Mr. Henckel, who was moaning and saying things in his
+mother tongue.
+
+"That," said Mr. Reardon with a familiar wink, "was a fine, decent
+German until I operated on him!"
+
+"So I observed. And who might you be?"
+
+"Me name is Terence P. Reardon, an' I'm the chief engineer av the
+United Shtates steamer _Narcissus_, av San Francisco."
+
+"Ah! An Irish-American, eh?"
+
+Mr. Reardon looked down at the deck, smiled a cunning little smile and
+looked up at Captain O'Hara. "Well, sor," he declared, "I had me
+hyphen wit' me whin I shipped; as late as yestherd'y afthernoon 'twas
+in good worrkin' ordher; but what wit' the exertion av chasin' our
+Gerrman crew round the decks, faith I've lost me hyphen, an' I'm
+thinkin' the skipper's lost his too. That's him forninst ye. For the
+prisent he's in dhrydock awaitin' repairs, which leaves me in command
+av the ship. And since he's in no condition to go to his shtate-room
+an' unlock the ship's safe, an' sorra wan av me knows the combination,
+the divil a look will ye have at our papers. I'll save time an'
+throuble for us all be tellin' ye now that we've ten t'ousand tons av
+soft coal undher deck, that we cleared from Norfolk, Virginia, for
+Manila or Batavia, Pernambuco for ordhers, an' that we're a couple av
+t'ousand miles off our course. So confiscate the ship an' be damned to
+ye! Only I'm hopin' ye'll not be above takin' a bit av advice from wan
+who knows. There's a Gerrman fleet not far off, an' if ye shtop to
+monkey wit' us, faith ye may live to regret it--an' ye may not."
+
+Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara smiled sweetly.  "Divil a fear," he
+said, in no way cast down. "We met the beggars off the Falklands
+yesterday and sunk them all but the Dresden. She slipped away from us
+in the dark, making for the mainland, and we were looking for her when
+we saw your searchlight cutting up such queer didos, so the Panther
+dropped behind to investigate. Had it not been for your searchlight we
+would have missed you."
+
+"An' be the same token a little dead Englishman signalled ye." Mr.
+Reardon gave another hitch to his dungarees. "Sor," he said doggedly,
+"I never t'ought I'd live to see the day I'd want to cheer a British
+victh'ry--but I do." He glanced down at his right hand and shook his
+head. "Englishmen that ye are," he continued, "I'll not offer ye a
+hand like that--much as I want to shake hands wit' ye."
+
+"Faith, don't let that worry you, Mr. Reardon. I'm not an Englishman."
+
+"In the divil's name, you're not an--an--"
+
+"I'm an Irishman! My name is Desmond O'Hara."
+
+Mr. Reardon was fully aware that here was a grand specimen of the kind
+of Irish he had been taught to despise--the Irish that take the king's
+shilling, the gentlemen Irish that lead the king's cockneys into
+battle. And yet, strange to say, no thought of that entered his head
+now. He stepped up to Captain O'Hara, looked round cautiously as if
+expecting to be overheard, winked knowingly and whispered, as he
+jerked a significant thumb toward the unhappy Mr. Henckel: "Sure 'tis
+the likes av us that can take the measure av the likes av thim."
+
+"It is," replied Captain O'Hara, and reached for Terry Reardon's awful
+hand. "It is!"
+
+Together they lifted Michael J. Murphy into a boson's chair, the
+jackies unslung a cargo derrick, Mr. Reardon went to the winch, and
+the skipper was hoisted overside into the _Panther's_ boat and taken
+aboard the warship for medical attention. Just before Mr. Reardon
+hoisted him he drew the chief's ear down to his lips.
+
+"About von Staden," he whispered. "I thought I wanted to see him hung.
+Legally he's a pirate; but, Terence, he was raised wrong; you know,
+Terence--_Deutschland ueber Alles_. These Dutch devils thought it was
+all right to steal our ship--national necessity, you know. Let von
+Staden out of the mate's store-room and tell him the English have
+us--that his fleet is gone. Then turn your back on him, Terence."
+
+Mr. Reardon followed orders. "Captain Murphy ordhered me to let ye
+out," he explained to the supercargo, "an' towld me to turrn me back
+on ye."
+
+"Please thank him for me," von Staden replied gently. "I scarcely
+expected such kindness at his hands. You may turn your back now, Mr.
+Reardon."
+
+So Mr. Reardon turned his back, and, despite the rush of the British
+jackies to stop him, Herr August Carl von Staden reached the rail.
+"_Deutschland ueber Alles!_" he shouted defiantly--and jumped. He did
+not come up.
+
+Captain the Hon. Desmond O'Hara removed his cap.  "They die so
+infernally well," he said presently, "one hates to fight
+them--individually. Yesterday the _Nuernberg_ fell to us. We outranged
+her, and when she was out of action and sinking, with her men swimming
+and drowning all round her, the _Panther_ was stripped of life
+preservers in two minutes. Some of my lads went overboard to help the
+Boche."
+
+Mr. Reardon remembered he had wrapped waste round the head of his
+monkey wrench and curtailed his indicated horse-power when tapping
+individuals; yet, when he fought them in bulk, with what savage joy
+had he struck down Mr. Uhl, a poor, inoffensive devil and the victim
+of a false ideal of national honor! Mr. Reardon was quite sure he
+despised Englishmen; yet the tears came to his eyes when the jackies
+carried poor little Riggins away from the searchlight, and he prayed
+for eternal rest for the soul of his late assistants, for he had
+learned in a night, as he fought with tooth and fist and monkey
+wrench, what those who fight with tongue and typewriter will never
+learn--that racial and religious animosities are just a pitiful human
+bugaboo--in bulk. Only that valiant minority that sheds its blood for
+the heartless majority can ever know this great truth--and the pity of
+it--that warriors never hate each other.
+
+They are too generous for that.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+
+
+
+Capt. Matt Peasley, with his heart in his throat, called up the
+British consul at San Francisco. Cappy Ricks, looking very pale and
+unhappy, sagged in his chair, while Mr. Skinner stood by, gnawing his
+nails and looking as if he would relish being kicked from one end of
+California Street to the other.
+
+"Hullo!" Matt Peasley began. Cappy Ricks shuddered and closed his
+eyes. "Is this the British consul's office?... This is Captain
+Peasley, of the Blue Star Navigation Company... Yes... About our
+steamer _Narcissus_... You say the consul is on his way down to our
+office... Thank you... Goodbye."
+
+Cappy Ricks sighed like an old air-compressor. "I hope I live till he
+gets here," he declared feebly. "Deliberate race, the British. No pep.
+Never get anywhere in a hurry."
+
+As if to give the lie to Cappy's criticisms, the British consul was
+admitted at that moment.
+
+"Gentlemen," he announced as the heart-broken trio gathered round him,
+"I have some very grave news for you." His voice was vaguely
+reminiscent of that of the foreman in a quarry who calls upon a lady
+to inform her that her husband has just been caught in a premature
+blast and that the boys will be up with the pieces directly. "Your
+steamer _Narcissus_, loaded with ten thousand tons of coal, has been
+captured a hundred miles north-east of the Falkland Islands by His
+Majesty's cruiser _Panther_. In view of your vessel's clearance--"
+
+A low moan broke from Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Tightwad!" he reviled. "Old Alden P. Tightwad, the prince of misers!
+He thought he'd add a couple of ten-dollar bills to his roll, so he
+encouraged his skipper to hire a lot of interned Germans to work his
+ships in neutral trade! He was penny-wise and pound-foolish, so he cut
+out the wireless to save a miserable hundred and forty dollars a
+month. Bids are invited for the privilege of killing the damned old
+fool--Skinner! What are you looking at?"
+
+"N-n-nothing!" stammered Mr. Skinner.
+
+"I won't be looked at that way, Skinner. I have my faults, I know--"
+
+"Ssshh!" Matt Peasley interrupted.
+
+"And I won't be 'sshh-ed' at either. I lost the ship.  I admit it. I
+O.K.'d the charter, and Murphy did his best to save her for us and
+couldn't. I'm the goat, but if it busts me I'll reimburse you two boys
+for every cent you have lost through my carelessness--"
+
+"I beg your pardon, Mr. Ricks," the consul interrupted.  "Pray permit
+me to proceed. The circumstances attending this case are so very
+unusual--"
+
+"My dear Mister British Consul, I shall not argue the matter with you.
+You're too bally deliberate, and, besides, what's the use? The ship is
+gone. Let her go. We'll build another twice as big. Of course I could
+give you an excuse, but if I did you'd think I was old Nick Carter
+come to life. We'll just have to take it up through our State
+Department, present our alibi, and try to win her back in the prize
+court."
+
+"She will never be sent to a prize court, Mr. Ricks.  It doesn't
+require a prize court to decide the case of the steamer _Narcissus_.
+The evidence is too overwhelming. There could not possibly be a
+reversal of the decision of our admiral."
+
+Mr. Skinner sat down suddenly to keep from falling down. The consul
+continued: "The commander of the _Panther_, Captain Desmond O'Hara--by
+the way, an old schoolmate of mine--has sent me a long private report
+on the affair; by wireless, of course, and in code. It appears that in
+Pernambuco harbor your German crew overpowered the captain--"
+
+"What?" cried Cappy, Matt and Skinner in chorus.  "You admit that?"
+
+"We do, Mr. Ricks. And last night your chief engineer,  Mr. Terence
+Reardon, with the aid of the steward, one Riggins--a British subject
+and unfortunately killed in the affray--and Captain Murphy overpowered
+the German crew--"
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks!" gasped Skinner.
+
+"Oh, Matt!" shrilled Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Oh, Cappy!" yelled Matt Peasley.
+
+"Oh, nonsense," laughed the British consul. "They stole her back,
+gentlemen, and when Captain O'Hara found her rolling helplessly and
+boarded her, she was a shambles. Dead men tell no tales, Mr.
+Ricks--yet it was impossible for any fair-minded man to doubt the
+testimony of the dead men aboard your _Narcissus_! Her killed, wounded
+and prisoners formed a perfect alibi. In the meantime, Mr. Reardon and
+Captain Murphy are aboard the Panther, receiving medical attention,
+and will be returned to duty in a few weeks; the _Narcissus_ is
+proceeding to meet the other ships of our fleet. She will coal them at
+sea."
+
+"Then you've confiscated her cargo?" Matt Peasley demanded.
+
+"We should worry about the cargo if they give us back our vessel,"
+Cappy Ricks declared happily. "We haven't received our freight money,
+of course, but by the time I get through with the charterers they'll
+pay the freight and ask no questions about the coal."
+
+"We confiscated it, Mr. Ricks," the British consul continued, "for the
+reason that it was German coal. The supercargo who boarded the vessel
+at Pernambuco told your captain his people had paid cash for it to the
+charterers. But we're going to give you back your vessel because we
+haven't any moral right to keep her, since her owners have committed
+no breach of international law. The supercargo left fifteen thousand
+dollars behind him when he jumped overboard, but Captain O'Hara
+declined to confiscate that. At Captain Murphy's suggestion it will be
+forwarded to the widow of the man Riggins. Captain O'Hara especially
+requested that I call upon you and inform you that you have two of the
+finest Irishmen in the world to thank for your ship."
+
+"Thank you, Mister Consul. By the way, can you reach Captain O'Hara by
+wireless? If you can, I should be glad to pay for a message if you
+will send it."
+
+"I shall be delighted indeed."
+
+"Then tell him the Blue Star Navigation Company thanks him for the
+courtesy of his message, but that it does not agree with his statement
+that we have two Irishmen to thank for our ship. We think we have
+three! I know the Irish. The scoundrels never go back on each other in
+a fight."
+
+The consul laughed.
+
+"By the way," he said, as he took up his hat preparatory  to leaving,
+"your ship is now equipped with wireless--a fine, powerful plant such
+as they use in the German Navy. The supercargo brought it aboard at
+Pernambuco."
+
+Matt Peasley, the Yankee, came to life at that.  "Has that been
+confiscated, too?" he queried.
+
+"No, captain. However, we have confiscated that German crew of
+yours--"
+
+"Hallelujah!" yelled Cappy Ricks.
+
+"--and loaned you a crew of British seamen from the tramp _Surrey
+Maid_. The _Scharnhorst_ torpedoed her off the coast of Chile, and we
+found her crew on board one of the German transports when we captured
+them after the fleet was destroyed. You're all fixed up, from skipper
+to cabin boy--"
+
+"Wireless operator, too?" Matt Peasley cried.
+
+The consul nodded. "He's got a steady job," the youthful president
+declared, and turned to Cappy Ricks for confirmation of this edict.
+But Cappy, the pious old codger, had bowed his head on his breast and
+they heard him mutter:
+
+"O Lord, I thank Thee! All unworthy as I am, Lord, thou loadest me
+with favors--including a wireless plant, free gratis!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+
+
+
+Long after the British consul had departed Cappy Ricks sat alone in
+his office, dozing. Presently he roused and rang for Mr. Skinner.
+
+"Skinner," he said, "Matt reports that the late Riggins  made an
+allotment of his wages to his wife when he shipped aboard the
+_Narcissus_?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Riggins's wages hereafter shall constitute a charge against the
+_Narcissus_ while Mrs. Riggins lives and while the Blue Star
+Navigation Company can afford to give up seventy dollars every month.
+Attend to it, Skinner. Another thing, Skinner."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"We ought to do something for Murphy and Reardon.  Now then, Skinner,
+you've never had a chance to be a sport heretofore, but you're a
+stockholder in the Blue Star Navigation Company now, and as such I
+feel that I should not use my position, as owner of a controlling
+interest in the stock of the company, to give away the property of the
+company in an arbitrary fashion. So I'm going to leave it up to you,
+Skinner, to suggest what we shall do for them. I believe you will
+agree with me that we should do something very handsome by those two
+boys."
+
+"Quite so, sir, quite so. Well, to start off with, Mr.  Ricks, I think
+we ought to pay their hospital bills, if any. Then I think we ought to
+give each of them a handsome gold watch, suitably engraved and with a
+small blue star--sapphires, you know--set in the front of the case."
+
+"You feel that would about fill the bill, eh, Skinner?"
+
+"Well, next Christmas I think we ought to give them each a month's
+salary."
+
+"Hum! You do?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I think that would be a very delicate thing to do."
+
+Cappy sighed. Poor Skinner! Victim of the saving habit! Decent
+devil--didn't mean to be small, but just couldn't help it. A
+bush-leaguer--Skinner. Never meant for big company--
+
+"In addition--" Skinner began.
+
+"Yes, Skinner, my boy. Go on, go on, old horse.  Now then, in
+addition--"
+
+"It seems like the wildest extravagance, Mr. Ricks, but those men have
+fought for their ship and I--remember, Mr. Ricks, this is only a
+suggestion--I think it would be a very--er--tactful thing to do
+to--er--"
+
+"It'll choke him before he gets it out," Cappy soliloquized.  Aloud he
+said: "Go on, Skinner, my dear boy. Don't be afraid."
+
+"At a time like this, when freights are so good and vessel property
+pays so well, it seems to me--that is, if you and Matt have no
+objection--that we ought to give Mike and Terence a--er--a little
+piece of the _Narcissus_--the ship--er--they
+love--say--er--a--ten-thousand-dollar interest--each--"
+
+"God bless you, Skinner! You came through at last, didn't you? The
+president emeritus agrees with you, Skinner, and it is so ordered.
+
+"Now skip along and wireless the glad news to Mike and Terence. Tell
+them when they have the coal out to proceed to Rio and load manganese
+ore."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+
+
+
+In due course Captain Michael J. Murphy and Mr.  Terence Reardon came
+off the dry dock, the sole visible evidence of that unrecorded second
+naval engagement off the Falkland Islands being a slight list to
+starboard on the part of the Reardon nose, and a notch in Murphy's
+right ear. Mr. Skinner had had a local jeweler prepare the
+presentation watches against the day of the home-coming of the
+warriors of the Blue Star, and on a Saturday night Cappy gave a
+banquet to Mike and Terence, and every employee of the Ricks'
+interests who could possibly attend, was present to do the doughty
+pair honor and cheer when the awards for valor were duly made by Cappy
+and congratulatory speeches made by Mr. Skinner and Matt Peasley. It
+was such a gala occasion that Cappy drank three cocktails, battened
+down by a glass or two of champagne, and as a result was ill for two
+days thereafter. When he recovered, he announced sadly and solemnly
+that he was about to retire--forever; that nothing of a business
+nature should ever be permitted to drag him back into the harness
+again. Then he bade all of his employees a touching farewell, packed
+his golf clubs, and disappeared in the general direction of Southern
+California. He was away so long that eventually even the skeptical Mr.
+Skinner commenced to wonder if, perchance, the age of miracles had not
+yet passed and Cappy had really retired.
+
+Alas! On the morning of December 24th, Cappy suddenly appeared at the
+office, his kindly old countenance aglow like a sunrise on the Alps.
+Immediately he cited Mr. Skinner to appear with the payrolls of all of
+the Ricks enterprises and show what cause, if any, existed, why there
+should not be a general whooping up of salaries to the deserving all
+along the line. The Ricks Lumber & Logging Company had already
+declared a Christmas dividend; the accounts of every ship in the Blue
+Star fleet had been made up to date and a special Christmas dividend
+declared, and, in accordance with ancient custom, Cappy had appeared
+to devote one day in the year to actual labor. Christmas dividend
+checks and checks covering Christmas presents to his employees were
+always signed by him; it was his way of letting the recipients know
+that, although retired, he still kept a wary eye on his affairs.
+
+He had writer's cramp by the time he finished, but while the spending
+frenzy was on him he would take no rest; so he seized a pencil and,
+while Mr. Skinner called off the names of the deserving and the length
+of time each had spent in the Ricks service, Cappy scrawled a five, a
+ten or a twenty beside each name. Thus, in time, they came to the
+first name on the Blue Star pay roll.
+
+"Matthew Peasley, president; salary, ten thousand dollars a year;
+length of service, four months," Mr. Skinner intoned. "How about a
+raise for Captain Matt?"
+
+Cappy laid down his pencil and looked at Skinner over the rims of his
+spectacles.
+
+"Skinner," he said gravely, "you're only drawing twelve thousand a
+year, and you've been with me twenty-five years! And here I'm giving
+this boy Matt ten thousand a year and he's been on the pay roll only
+four months. Why, it isn't fair!"
+
+"Remember, he was three years in the Blue Star ships that--"
+
+"Can't consider that at all when raising salaries.  The salaries of
+ship's officers are fixed and immutable anyhow, and when considering
+raises for my employees. I can take into consideration only the length
+of time they've been directly under my eye. Cut Matt's salary to five
+thousand a year and let him grow up with the business. His dividends
+from his Ricks L. & L. and Blue Star stock will keep him going, and he
+hasn't any household bills to keep up. He and Florry live with me, and
+I'm the goat."
+
+"I fear Matt will not take kindly to that program, Mr. Ricks--
+particularly at this time, when every ship in the offshore fleet is
+paying for herself every voyage."
+
+"Why?" Cappy demanded.
+
+"Well," Mr. Skinner replied hesitatingly, "perhaps I have no business
+to tell you this, because the knowledge came to me quite by accident;
+but the fact of the matter is, Matt is going to build himself an
+auxiliary schooner--"
+
+"Good news!" Cappy piped. "That's the ticket for soup! An auxiliary
+schooner with semi-Diesel engines, four masts and about a million-
+foot lumber capacity would be a mighty good investment right now.
+Every yard in the country that builds steel vessels is filled up with
+orders, but our coast shipyards can turn out wooden vessels in a
+hurry; and, with auxiliary power, they'll pay five hundred per cent on
+their cost before this flurry in shipping, due to the war, is over. I
+don't care, Skinner--provided he builds a ship that's big enough to go
+foreign--"
+
+"But this isn't that kind," Mr. Skinner interrupted.
+
+"No other kind will do, Skinner."
+
+"This is to be a schooner yacht--"
+
+"A what!" Cappy shrilled.
+
+"A yacht--eighty-five feet over all--"
+
+"Eighty-five grandmothers! Why, what the devil does that boy want of a
+yacht? How much money does he intend to put into her?"
+
+"I do not know, Mr. Ricks; but we can be reasonably certain of one
+thing; Matt Peasley will not build a cheap boat. She'll have a lot of
+gewgaws and gadgets, teak rail, mahogany joiner-work--at the very
+least, she'll cost him thirty thousand dollars."
+
+"Skinner," Cappy declared solemnly, "he might as well put the money in
+a sack, go down to Clay Street Wharf and throw the money overboard!
+The other night I saw a couple of soldiers having a pleasant time in a
+shooting gallery, but what the president of the Blue Star Navigation
+Company wants with a thirty-thousand-dollar yacht beats my time. Why,
+he has more than thirty good vessels to play with all week, and yet he
+wants a yacht for Sunday! Skinner, my dear boy, that is wild, wanton
+extravagance."
+
+"Well, I dare say Matt thinks he can afford the extravagance."
+
+"Skinner, no man can afford it. Extravagance may reach a point where
+it becomes sinful. And I say it's a crime to put thirty thousand
+dollars into a yacht when the same thirty thousand, invested in a good
+vessel, will yield such tremendous returns. Skinner, my boy, how did
+you find out about this yacht nonsense?"
+
+"I was looking through Matt's desk for a letter I had given him to
+read, and I ran across the plans. Thinking they were Blue Star plans,
+I looked them over; there was a letter from the naval architect
+attached--"
+
+Cappy threw down his pencil.
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet," he cried in deep disgust, "I thought
+I was going to have a Merry Christmas--and now it's spoiled! Good
+Lord, Skinner! To think of a man throwing away thirty thousand
+dollars, not to mention the upkeep and interest after he's thrown it
+away--"
+
+"You've just this very day thrown away about thirty thousand dollars
+you didn't have to," Mr. Skinner reminded him.
+
+"I do have to. I've got to keep all my boys happy and satisfied and up
+on their toes, or what the devil would happen to us? They're my
+partners when all is said and done, and how am I going to face my
+Maker if I don't give my partners a square deal? There's a vast
+difference between justice and extravagance. Skinner, you don't
+suppose Matt's like every other shellback of a skipper? Why, he's only
+twenty-five years old; and if he's got the blue-water fever again,
+after a year ashore, there'll be no standing him at thirty."
+
+"Well, he's got it, sir," Mr. Skinner opined firmly.  "Did you ever
+see an old sailing skipper that didn't get it? You remember Burns, who
+had the _Sweet Alferetta_? His father died and left him a million
+dollars, and five years later he came sneaking in here one day, told
+you he was tired clipping coupons and that if you wanted to save his
+life you'd give him back the _Sweet Alferetta_ and a hundred dollars a
+month to skipper her! He sold his interest to his successor for two
+thousand dollars when he fell into the fortune--and five years later
+he bought it back for three thousand, just so he could have a job
+again."
+
+"Yes," Cappy admitted; "they all get the blue-water  fever--after
+they've left blue water. I never knew a sailor yet who wouldn't tell
+you sailoring was a dog's life; but I never knew one who quit and
+quite recovered from the hankering to go back. I think you're right,
+Skinner. This yacht is just a symptom of Matt's disease. He realizes
+his business interests tie him to the beach; but if he has a sailing
+yacht that he can fuss round with on week-ends in the bay, and once in
+a while make a little cruise to Puget Sound or the Gulf of Lower
+California, he figures he'll manage to survive."
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded.
+
+"Speaking of yachts," Cappy continued, "the case of old Cap'n Cliff
+Ashley suggests a cure for this boy Matt. Cap'n Cliff was a Gloucester
+fisherman, with the smartest little schooner that ever came home from
+the Grand Banks with halibut up to her hatches. He couldn't read or
+write and he'd never learned navigation; but he'd been born with the
+instincts of a homing pigeon, and somehow whenever he pointed his
+schooner toward Gloucester he managed to arrive on schedule; and any
+time he got a good fair breeze from the west, like as not he'd run
+over to England and sell his catch there.
+
+"Like most of his breed, Cap'n Cliff had to have a fast boat; he had
+to keep her as immaculate as a yacht in order to be happy, and he was
+never so happy as when he'd meet a squadron of the New York Yacht Club
+out on a cruise and sail circles round the flagship with his little
+old knockabout fish schooner. On such occasions old Cap'n Cliff would
+break out a long red burgee with M.O.B.Y.C. in white letters on it. On
+one of his trips to England he hooked up with a big schooner wearing
+the ensign of the Royal Yacht Club and dassed 'em to race with him.
+
+"Well, sir, it happened that the late King Edward was aboard his yacht
+that day, and you know what a sport he was in his palmy days. Cap'n
+Cliff cracked on everything he had in the way of plain sail and, after
+holding the King even for a couple of hours, he put his packet under
+gaff topsails and fisherman's staysail and broke out the balloon jib,
+bade Edward good-bye in the International Code--and flew! About six
+hours after Cap'n Cliff came to anchor, the King loafed up in his
+yacht, dropped anchor, cleared away his launch, and came over to visit
+Cap'n Cliff and shake hands with him.
+
+"'My dear sir,' says Edward, pointing aloft to the red burgee with
+M.O.B.Y.C. on it, 'pray to what yacht club do you belong?'
+
+"'My own bloomin' yacht club, your majesty,' says Cap'n Cliff; and if
+he hadn't been a Yankee fisherman the King would have knighted him on
+the spot!
+
+"And that remark, Skinner, my dear boy, clears the atmosphere in the
+case of our own dear Matthew. He shall have his own blooming yacht
+club, only his yacht shall carry cargo and pay her way."
+
+"You mean--"
+
+"I mean I'm going to send him to sea for one voyage, once a year,
+which will break up that blue-water fever and save Matt thirty
+thousand dollars as an initial investment, and about ten thousand a
+year upkeep and interest. All that boy needs to cure him, Skinner, is
+the old _Retriever_, totally surrounded by horizon and smelling of a
+combination of tarred rope, turpentine, wet canvas, fresh paint, green
+lumber and the stink of the bilge water. Lordy me, Skinner, it puts
+them to sleep and they wake up feeling perfectly bully! Where's the
+_Retriever_ now, Skinner, and who is in charge of her destinies?"
+
+"She's due on Puget Sound from the West Coast.  Captain Lib Curtis has
+her."
+
+"Good news! Well, now, Skinner, you listen to me: The minute he
+reports his arrival you wire Lib to put the old harridan on dry dock
+and slick her up until she looks like four aces and a king, with
+everybody in the game standing pat. Can't have any whiskers on her
+bottom when Matt takes her out, Skinner, because if the boy's to enjoy
+himself she's got to be able to show a clean pair of heels. Then write
+Lib to wire his resignation and give any old reason for it. Have him
+resign just before the vessel is loaded and ready for sea, and tell
+him to insist on being relieved immediately. Of course, Skinner, Matt
+will get busy right away, looking for the right skipper to relieve
+Captain Curtis--and about that time the president emeritus will shove
+in his oar and ball things up. Every doggoned skipper Matt recommends
+for the job is going to have his application vetoed by Alden P. Ricks,
+and--er--ahem! Harumph-h-h!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"And you stick by me, Skinner. Follow all my leads and don't trump any
+of my aces; and just about the time Matt begins to get good and mad at
+my doggoned interference--you know, Skinner, my boy, I'm only a
+figurehead--you cut in and say: 'Well, for heaven's sake! You two
+still squabbling over a skipper for the _Retriever?_ Matt, why don't
+you save the demurrage and take her out yourself--eh?'" And Cappy
+winked knowingly and prodded his general manager in the ribs.
+
+"I guess that plan's kind of poor--eh, Skinner? I guess it won't
+work--eh? Particularly when I come right back and say: 'Well, he might
+as well, for all the use he is round this office. Here I go to work
+and appoint him president of the Blue Star and he won't stay in the
+office and'tend to the president's business. Yes, sir! Leaves all that
+to you and me, Skinner, while he degrades himself doing the work of a
+port captain.'"
+
+"All of which is quite true, Mr. Ricks," Mr. Skinner affirmed. "He
+will not stay in the office--and he's getting worse. Two-thirds of his
+time is spent round the docks."
+
+"Well, two-thirds of his time in 1915 will not be spent round the
+docks, Skinner. Play that bet to win! We're going to have a busy old
+year in the shipping game in 1915, and a busier one in 1916 if that
+war in Europe isn't over by then. A voyage in the _Retriever_ will fix
+the boy up, Skinner, and he'll stick round the office and put over
+some real business. Yachts! Hah! What does a business man want of a
+yacht?"
+
+"You overlooked one very important detail, Mr.  Ricks," Skinner
+ventured.
+
+"I overlook nothing, Skinner--nothing. His wife shall accompany him on
+the voyage. I shall implant the idea in her head, beginning this very
+night as soon as I get home. I'll just tell her she isn't and never
+will be a true sailor's true love until she takes a voyage with her
+husband. Romantic girl, Florry! She'll about eat that suggestion,
+feathers and all, Skinner. She'll do the real work for us. Always
+remember, my boy, that an ounce of promotion is worth enough
+perspiration to float the _Narcissus_."
+
+"But what shall we do for a port captain?"
+
+"I've ordered Mike Murphy--via Matt, of course--to take a vacation
+under full salary and recover from the wounds he received walloping
+that German crew on the _Narcissus_. About the time Matt leaves in the
+_Retriever_, Mike will be ready to go to work again or commit murder
+if we don't give it to him; so we'll slip him a temporary appointment
+as port captain. I'm going to make it permanent some day, anyhow. I
+suppose you've noticed that Mike Murphy has a crush on your
+stenographer; and I don't see how he's going to put anything over if
+he never gets a chance to see the girl!"
+
+"I really hadn't noticed it, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"If it was a ten-cent piece you'd notice it," Cappy retorted. "And now
+that matter is settled, how about this port steward? Is he a grafter?
+If not, raise him five dollars a month. He's been with us only a
+year."
+
+Late that afternoon, after Cappy had made the rounds of his office,
+distributing his checks and wishing all hands the merriest of
+Christmases, he paused at last at Mr. Skinner's desk and laid a
+thousand-dollar check thereon.
+
+"Not a peep out of you, Skinner--not a peep!" he cautioned his general
+manager. "No thanks due me. You've earned it a thousand times
+over--and then some. Hum-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h! By the way, Skinner, my
+dear boy, I forgot to mention to you another little idea that's in the
+back of my head."
+
+"You mean about sending Matt to sea for a voyage?"
+
+"Exactly. The sea is a wonderful institution, Skinner--wonderful! It
+promotes health and strength; and--er--damn it, Skinner, my dear boy,
+have you ever observed that there isn't a married skipper in our
+employ that hasn't been lucky? Many well-known authorities prescribe a
+sea voyage--"
+
+"What for, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+Cappy thrust his thumb into Skinner's ribs, winked, bent low, and
+whispered:
+
+"Too slow, Skinner; too slow. I'm getting old, you know--I can't wait
+for ever. And if the experiment succeeds--Skinner, my dear boy, you're
+next! You've been married more than a year now--"
+
+"I fail to comprehend--"
+
+"Grandson!" Cappy whispered. "Grandson!"
+
+"Oh!" said Mr. Skinner.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+
+
+
+One of the remarks most frequently heard on California Street was to
+the effect that whenever Cappy Ricks girded up his loins and went
+after something he generally got it. His scheme to get Matt Peasley to
+sea for one voyage, accompanied by Florry, worked as smoothly as a
+piston; and on the fifteenth of January the Peasleys went aboard the
+_Retriever_ at Bellingham and towed out, bound for Manila with a cargo
+of fir lumber. Matt made the run down in sixty-six days, a smart
+passage, waited a week in Manila Bay before he could secure a berth
+and commence discharging, discharged in a week, loaded a cargo of
+hemp, with a deckload of hardwood logs, and was ready for the return
+trip to San Francisco on April twenty-fourth, on which day he towed
+out past Corregidor.
+
+His wife, however, was not with him on the return voyage. Following a
+family conference, it was decided that Florry should return home on
+the mail steamer--which action Cappy Ricks considered most significant
+when Matt apprised him of it by cable, but failed to state a reason.
+The president emeritus, immediately upon receipt of this information,
+trotted into Mr. Skinner's office and laid Matt Peasley's cablegram on
+the latter's desk.
+
+"Well, Skinner, my dear boy," he piped, rubbing his hands together the
+while, "what do you know about that?"
+
+"Do you--er--suspect--er--something, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"Suspect? Not a bit of it. I know! Neither Florry nor Matt would dream
+of permitting the other to come home alone if there wasn't a third
+party to be considered. Paste that in your hat, Skinner. It isn't
+done."
+
+Cappy was right, for the same steamer that bore his daughter home
+carried also a brief letter from his son-in-law conveying the tidings
+of great joy. The old man was so happy he went into Mr. Skinner's
+office and struck his general manager a terrible blow between the
+shoulders, after which he declared it was a shame that his years and
+reputation for respectability denied him the privilege of chartering a
+seagoing hack and painting the town red!
+
+The _Retriever_ crept slowly up the China Sea on the first of the
+southwest monsoon. At that period of the year, however, the monsoon is
+weak and unsteady; and after clearing the northern end of Luzon the
+_Retriever_ kicked round in a belt of light and baffling airs for a
+week. Then the monsoon freshened somewhat and the _Retriever_ once
+more rolled lazily away on her course, with young Matt Peasley humming
+chanteys on her quarter-deck and pondering the mystery that confronts
+all mankind in their first adventure in fatherhood. Would it be a boy
+or a girl? He was expressing to himself for perhaps the thousandth
+time the hope that it would be a boy, when from the poop he saw
+something he did not relish.
+
+It was the ship's cat coming across the deckload toward him, in his
+yellow eyes a singularly pleased expression and in his mouth a
+singularly large rat.
+
+Matt Peasley stepped below, found an old glove and drew it over his
+right hand, after which he returned to the quarter-deck.
+
+"Come, Tommy!" he called; and pussy came, to be seized by the tail
+and, still holding fast to his prey, cast overboard.
+
+"It's bad luck to do that to a black cat, sir," the mate informed him.
+
+Matt Peasley's eyes were blazing.
+
+"And it's worse luck still for any mate aboard my ship who neglects to
+put the rat-guards on the lines when the vessel is lying at the dock,"
+he growled. "You lubberly idiot!"
+
+"But I did put the rat-guards on the lines," the mate protested.
+
+"Yes, I know you did; but I had to remind you of it," Matt replied.
+"You didn't get them on in time--and now the Lord only knows how many
+rats we have aboard. Ordinarily I don't mind rats, but an Oriental rat
+is something to be afraid of."
+
+"Why, sir?"
+
+"Because they carry the germs of bubonic plague, you farmer!" And Matt
+very carefully removed his glove and cast it overboard after the cat.
+"And it's a cold day when you can't find an occasional case of plague
+in the Orient. The cat caught the rat and mauled it round; hence the
+cat had to go, because I never permit in my cabin a cat that has been
+on intimate terms with an Oriental rat. And now I bet I know what's
+wrong with that fo'castle hand that went into the sick bay the day
+before yesterday. He complained of swelling in the glands of his neck
+and groins."
+
+The cook left the forward deckhouse and came aft over the deckload. At
+the break of the poop he paused.
+
+"Captain Peasley," he announced, "Lindstrom is dead."
+
+"Tell everybody to keep away from him," Matt ordered. He turned to the
+mate. "Mr. Matson," he announced, "the first duty of a murderer is to
+get rid of the body. Go forward and throw Lindstrom's body overboard;
+then stay forward. If you come aft until I send for you I'll blow your
+brains out!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+
+
+
+When the _Retriever_ was out from Manila seventy days Cappy Ricks
+remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt would be breezing in most any day
+now. On the eightieth day he remarked to Mr. Skinner that Matt was
+coming home a deal slower than he had gone out. The efficient Skinner,
+however, cited so many instances of longer passages from Manila to San
+Francisco that Cappy was comforted, although he was not convinced.
+"You make me a type-written list of all those vessels and their
+passages, Skinner," he cautioned; "and when you can't think of any
+more authentic cases fake up a few. Florry's beginning to worry. She
+knows now what it means to be a sailor's wife, and if that doggoned
+Matt doesn't report soon 111 know what it means to be a sailor's
+father-in-law. I wish to Jimminy I hadn't sent Matt out with the
+_Retriever._"
+
+Ninety days passed. Cappy commenced to fidget.  A hundred days passed,
+and Cappy visited the hydrographic office and spent a long time poring
+over charts of the air currents in the China Sea, along the coast of
+Asia and in the North Pacific.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he quavered when he returned  to the office;
+"I'm a most unhappy old man."
+
+Mr. Skinner forgot for an instant that he was a business man and, with
+a sudden, impulsive movement, he put his long, thin arm round the old
+man and squeezed him.
+
+"If you didn't think so much of him, sir," he comforted  Cappy, "you'd
+worry less. She really will not be overdue until she's out a hundred
+and twenty days."
+
+"Skinner," Cappy piped wearily, "don't try to deceive  me. I've been
+in the shipping game for forty-odd years, boy. I know it's about six
+thousand miles from San Francisco to Manila, and if a vessel averages
+ninety miles a day she's making a smart passage. Matt made it down in
+sixty-six days, and he ought to come back in sixty, because he has
+fair winds all the way. Skinner, the boy's a month overdue; and if he
+never shows up--if he stays out much longer--Florry'll break her
+heart; and my grandson--think of it, Skinner!--think of the prenatal
+effect on the child! Oh, Skinner, my dear, dear boy, I want him big
+and light-hearted and sunny-souled like Matt--and to think this is all
+my doing--my own daughter! Oh! Oh, Skinner, my heart is breaking!"
+
+Mr. Skinner fled to his own office and did something most
+un-Skinner-like. He blinked away several large bright tears; and while
+he was blinking them the telephone bell rang. Mechanically Mr. Skinner
+answered. It was Jerry Dooley, in charge of the Merchants' Exchange.
+
+"Mr. Skinner," said Jerry, "I've got some bad news for you."
+
+"The-the-_Retriever_--" Skinner almost whispered.
+
+"Yes, sir. I thought I'd tell you first, so you could break it to the
+old man gently. The Grace liner _Ecudorian_ arrived at Victoria this
+morning and reports speaking the _Retriever_ eight hundred miles off
+the coast of Formosa. The vessel was under jib, lower topsail,
+foretopmast staysail, mainsail and spanker. She was flying two
+flags--an inverted ensign and the yellow quarantine flag. The
+_Ecudorian_ steamed close alongside of her, to windward. Captain
+Peasley was at the wheel--"
+
+"Thank God!" Mr. Skinner almost sobbed. "What was wrong with her,
+Jerry? Hurry up, man! Hurry up! Tell me!"
+
+"He was alone on the ship, Mr. Skinner. Bubonic plague! Killed the
+entire crew! Matt was the only man immune, and he's sailing the
+_Retriever_ home alone!"
+
+Mr. Skinner groaned.
+
+"Good gracious Providence! Why didn't the _Ecudorian_ take him off?"
+
+"Credit them with offering it," Jerry replied. "He wouldn't come. He
+declined to jeopardize the people aboard the steamer and he wouldn't
+abandon the _Retriever_ with her full cargo; so what could they do?
+They had to sail away without him."
+
+Gently Mr. Skinner broke the news to Cappy Ricks; for, of course, the
+United Press dispatches had carried it to the later afternoon editions
+and it would be useless for Mr. Skinner to attempt to lie kindly.
+Cappy, with bowed head, heard him through; when finally he looked up
+at Skinner his eyes were dead.
+
+"Quite what I expected of him, Skinner," he said dully. "And I'd
+rather have him die than dog it! This report from the _Ecudorian_
+helps some, Skinner. It will do to keep hope alive in my Florry--and
+every two weeks until the boy is born we'll--we'll--Oh, Skinner--"
+
+"Yes, sir; I'll attend to it. Leave everything to me, Mr. Ricks. I'll
+have wireless reports and telegrams and cablegrams from every port on
+earth telling of ships having spoken the _Retriever_, with the skipper
+well and hearty, and sending messages of good cheer to his wife."
+
+"You--you won't be--er--stingy, Skinner? You'll send out the
+_Tillicum_ to find him and tow him in, won't you? And you'll have real
+telegrams--spend money, Skinner! I'll have to bring those messages
+home to Florry--"
+
+"Everything, Mr. Ricks. And I'll start right in by slipping fifty
+dollars to each of the waterfront reporters on all the papers. They're
+good boys, Mr. Ricks. I'll tell them why I have to have the service.
+Mrs. Peasley must have our fake reports confirmed in the papers--"
+
+"For work like that the marine reporters should have more money,"
+Cappy suggested wearily. His old hand reached out gropingly, closed
+over Mr. Skinner's and held it a moment childishly. "You're a very
+great comfort to me, Skinner--very great indeed! And you'll come home
+with me to-night, won't you, Skinner? I'm a little afraid--I want you
+near me, Skinner--in case I can't get away with it to Florry."
+
+His dry, dead eyes studied the pattern in the office  carpet.
+
+"Two mates, a cook and ten A. B.'s!" he murmured presently. "One man,
+even a Matt Peasley, cannot do the work of thirteen men. No, Skinner;
+it isn't done. One man simply cannot sail a barkentine."
+
+But Mr. Skinner was not listening. He was on the long-distance phone
+calling the master of the _Tillicum_, just about finishing discharge
+of a cargo of nitrate at San Pedro. And presently Cappy heard him
+speaking:
+
+"Mr. Ricks, listen! Grant, of the _Tillicum_, says Matt would go up
+the China Sea on the southwest monsoon... Yes, captain. You say--ah,
+yes; quite so... Grant says he'd edge over until he got into the Japan
+Stream, and that would add a knot or two an hour to his speed... Yes,
+Grant. Speak up! ... Grant says, Mr. Ricks, that about the middle of
+September or the first of October Matt would run out of the southwest
+monsoon into the northeast monsoon--that's it, Grant, isn't it? He'd
+get them about off Formosa, eh?... Yes, Grant. Then he'd run into the
+prevailing westerly winds and run north on a great circle about five
+hundred miles below the Aleutian Islands--I see, Grant. All right!
+Fill your oil tanks and take an extra supply on deck, head into the
+North Pacific... Yes; use your own judgment, of course. Mine's no
+good... Yes; and bring a lot of disinfectants and a doctor, so it'll
+be safe to put a few men aboard when you find her and put your hawser
+on her ... Yes, Grant. If you find her you'll not have reason to
+regret it. Good-bye! Good luck!"
+
+"While the _Tillicum_ is on this wild-goose chase, Skinner," Cappy
+said wearily, "she is chartered by the Blue Star Navigation Company to
+Alden P. Ricks personally, at the prevailing rates. The stockholders
+mustn't pay for my fancies, Skinner. You'll see to that, won't you?"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+
+
+_Excerpt from the log of Captain Matt Peasley relief skipper of the
+American barkentine Retriever; Manila to San Francisco._
+
+May Third.--Seaman Olaf Lindstrom died to-day,  following an illness
+of thirty-six hours. He was taken with chills and fever on the morning
+of the second, complained of a severe headache and vomited repeatedly.
+Removed him from the forecastle to a spare room in the forward house,
+which on the _Retriever_ has always been used as a sick bay. While
+being supported along the deck he collapsed, and when the mate
+undressed him and put him to bed he complained of soreness in his
+groins. I examined them and found them slightly swollen. Treated him
+for ague--calomel, salts, quinine and whisky, and one-fortieth-grain
+strychnine hypodermic solution to keep up his heart action when the
+fever registered one hundred and four and higher. He grew steadily
+worse. Could not find anything in my Home Book of Medicine that
+exactly described his symptoms, and was at a loss to diagnose
+Lindstrom's case until I discovered the ship's cat with a rat it had
+just killed.
+
+There were no rats aboard the _Retriever_ when she left San Francisco.
+I recalled that the first night we tied up to the dock in Manila a
+dirty little China Coast tramp lay just ahead of us; and as I passed
+her on my way uptown I saw a rat run down her gangplank. She had
+rat-guards on her mooring lines. We had just tied up to the dock and I
+returned immediately and instructed the mate to be sure to put the
+rat-guards on our mooring lines, and not to use any sort of gangplank.
+When I returned to the vessel later that night I found that the mate
+had neglected to put on the rat-guards and logged him for it. Before
+we left the dock a Chinaman died of bubonic plague aboard that tramp,
+and the port health authorities put the vessel in quarantine
+immediately and prevented further spread of the disease.
+
+When I saw the ship's cat with a rat, therefore, I knew we had some of
+that rotten China Coaster's plague rats aboard. Accordingly threw cat
+and rat overboard just as the cook announced Lindstrom's death. Upon
+looking up the information on plague, I am now convinced we have it
+aboard--that Linstrom died of it. First Mate Olaf Matson wrapped
+himself in my old bathrobe, gloved his hands and threw Lindstrom's
+body overboard, following it with the gloves and bathrobe.
+
+I am, in a measure, prepared for plague. When I learned we had lain
+close to a vessel with a case of plague aboard I laid in some plague
+medicine, on general principles and just to have an anchor out to
+windward. At the English drug store on the Escolta I bought a tiny
+bottle of Yersin's Antipest Serum and another of Haffkine's
+Prophylactic Fluid. It was all they had on hand and it wasn't much;
+but--it is enough to save me--and I intend to be saved if possible. I
+cannot afford to die now. I do not know how old the Haffkine's Fluid
+is; and the older it is, the longer it takes to render one immune. The
+antipest serum will render me immune immediately, but the duration of
+the immunity thus granted lasts, at the most, only fifteen days. I
+must, therefore, first take a hypodermic injection of antipest serum
+to render me immune immediately and the next day follow with an
+injection of Haffkine's Fluid, which gives permanent immunity, but not
+for a week or longer when used alone.
+
+There is this devilish thing about it to be considered, however: I may
+at this moment be inoculated with plague, for the period of incubation
+is from three to seven days--and I've fondled that cat every day since
+we left Manila. If I am already infected and do not know it, and while
+in that condition take an injection of the antipest serum, the book
+says the serum will immediately bring on a fatal and virulent attack
+of the plague! On the other hand, if I am not inoculated and take the
+antipest serum I am safe.
+
+The question before the house, therefore, is: Shall I take it or shall
+I not? And if I do take it shall I be saving my life or committing
+suicide? I am like the fellow in the story who was forced to drink
+from one of two glasses of wine. He knew one of them contained poison,
+but he didn't know which one it was! I shall make my will and flip a
+coin to decide the issue.
+
+May Fourth.--Two a.m. Mate reports another sick man in the forecastle.
+Wish I had some formaldehyde gas. Have told mate to sprinkle chloride
+of lime in Lindstrom's bunk and to dust the walls and floors of the
+forecastle and sick bay with it. That is the only disinfectant I have
+aboard in quantity.
+
+At midnight I flipped the coin--heads I'd take it; tails I wouldn't.
+The coin fell heads--and I took it.
+
+Four a.m.--Mustered the crew and gave them a lecture on bubonic
+plague. I have sufficient antipest serum for four men. After
+explaining that it was Hobson's choice, I asked the men to draw
+matches, held in the hand of the first mate, to see who should be the
+lucky ones. They all decided to take a chance and go without it, with
+the exception of two seamen and the mates, who, learning that I had
+taken it, decided to follow suit. Accordingly I inoculated them with
+the antipest serum.
+
+Five p.m.--Inoculated myself with Haffkine's Fluid.
+
+Seven-thirty.--Seaman Ross died. Mr. Matson threw the body overboard.
+No services.
+
+Midnight.--Mr. Matson is down with it.
+
+May Fifth.--Mr. Matson very ill and delirious.  Cook moping round like
+a drunken man; complains of severe headache. Wind blowing lightly from
+south-west. Everything set. Inoculated second mate and the two seamen
+with Haffkine's.
+
+May Sixth.--Mr. Matson died at noon today. Cook down with it; also
+another seaman, and Mr. Eccles, the second mate. Have altered ship's
+course and am running for Hongkong. Winds light and baffling. Have not
+made thirty miles today. Calm at midnight. Mr. Eccles died just as the
+watches were being changed. I now feel that I have escaped; so
+examined Mr. Eccles' body. He went so fast I am curious. No swelling
+of the glands at all. Am inclined to think his was pneumonic or
+septicaemic. Threw him overboard myself.
+
+May Seventh.--Light and baffling airs all day; monsoon blowing in weak
+puffs. Another seaman ill. So ends this day.
+
+May Eighth.--Cook died at noon. No buboes on him either. He turned
+kind of black. I was chief undertaker. No airs to speak of. Ship
+barely making steerage way. So ends this day.
+
+May Ninth.--Seaman Peterson died early this morning.  Do not know
+exact hour. Found him dead in his berth. Another funeral; no services.
+Monsoon freshening. Made forty-eight miles today. Two more seamen on
+sick report; and, to add to my worries, they are the very two I
+inoculated with the antipest serum and Haffkine's. Is this stuff
+worthless?
+
+May Tenth.--Seamen Halloran and Kaiser died within an hour of each
+other this evening--Halloran at nine-thirty and Kaiser at
+ten-eighteen. Put both bodies overboard immediately.
+
+I have four seamen left, and am doing the cooking, navigating, nursing
+and undertaking. Wind freshening hourly. Made seventy-two miles today.
+Glad Florry and Cappy Ricks cannot see me now, although, for some fool
+reason, I have a notion I shall see them again. If I were going to get
+plague it would have developed before now. I feel quite safe, but most
+unhappy and worried.
+
+Midnight.--Seaman Anderson down with it. Jumped overboard to save me
+the bother of throwing him overboard about the day after to-morrow,
+which is a courtesy I did not expect of Anderson. I am obliged to him.
+I am exhausted and so are my three remaining seamen. We cannot handle
+the canvas now, so have taken in the foresail, royals, and topgallant
+sails, hauled down the flying jib and got the gaff topsail off her,
+leaving her under the jib, fore-topmast staysail, upper and lower
+fore-topsails, main-topmast staysail, mainsail and spanker. Hove her
+to and turned in.
+
+May Eleventh.--After a horrible breakfast, which I cooked, got under
+way again. Monsoon blowing nicely, but under the small amount of
+canvas I am forced to carry cannot make more than six miles an hour.
+Have decided not to run to Hongkong. If I am to lose my three
+remaining seamen I shall have lost them long before I sight land, and
+the tug or steamer that hooks on to me off Hongkong will stick me with
+a terrific salvage bill. If I'm going to be stuck I prefer to be stuck
+closer to home, and if I manage to keep these three men the four of us
+can sail her home. I'll take a chance and run up the coast of Asia
+with the Japan Stream until I reach the northeast monsoon. I'm certain
+to be spoken and can send word to Florry. In a pinch, at this season
+of the year, I can sail her home alone.
+
+May Fifteenth.--I am alone on the ship. Into the Japan Stream, monsoon
+blowing the sweetest it ever blew. Lucky thing for me I had the
+forethought to trim her down; otherwise I should have had to cut away
+a lot of canvas. And how Cappy Ricks would scream at the sail bill
+later on! We were hove to overnight when Borden and Jacobsen died, on
+the thirteenth. McBain complained of a headache and vertigo on the
+morning of the fourteenth; so I laid to until he died, last night. I
+was not with him when he passed. What good would it have done? I had
+breakfast; and after breakfast I found him in his berth, dead. I
+tossed him overboard, and every last rag of clothing, dunnage and
+blankets aboard, with the exception of those in my own cabin. Then I
+burned sulphur in the fore-castle, the galley, the cook's room and the
+stateroom formerly occupied by the mates, closed the doors, and hoped
+for the best. Slept a lot that day and night; and at eight this
+morning slacked off my spanker and main sheets, checked in my foreyard
+and topsail by taking the the braces to the donkey engine, and was off
+for home.
+
+Have established my commissary in the lee of the wheel box. Set up a
+small kerosene stove I found in the storeroom, and get along nicely.
+It is quite an art to fry eggs with one hand and steady the wheel with
+the other, but I managed it three times today. To-morrow I will cook
+enough at breakfast to last me for luncheon and supper; hence will
+only have to heat some coffee.
+
+Logged fifty-one miles by eight o'clock; then lashed the wheel and let
+her take care of herself while I got steam up in the donkey and hauled
+in my spanker and mainsail; then I slacked off my foreyard and topsail
+yards, hove her to on the port tack, hung three red lights on the
+forestay to show she wasn't under command, set my alarm clock and
+turned in. I have to smile at the ease with which one man--provided he
+is a sizable man and able to stand strain--can sail a barkentine
+before the wind in fair weather. I am not worried. I am not going to
+have bubonic plague. It is horribly lonely, but I am due for fair
+winds--and I should worry.
+
+Even if I should get a blow and have to take the lower topsail off
+her, I can lower the yard by the topsail halyards until it rests on
+the cap; then I'll skip aloft and run a knife along the head of the
+topsail and let it whip to glory. After that it may blow and be
+damned! All the clothes the old girl is wearing now will never take
+the sticks out of her. I've trimmed her down to jib, lower topsail,
+fore-topmast staysail, mainsail and spanker. Wish I dared carry the
+foresail. However, I must play safe. It is awful, though, to be in a
+ship as fast as the _Retriever_ and have to crawl the way I'm
+crawling. Crawl all day and sleep all night! Well, sometimes I can
+crawl all day and night and sleep half a day. We shall see. I used to
+be able to stand considerable before I hit the beach and got soft. The
+necessity for firing the donkey every night would soon exhaust my fuel
+supply; but I have a deck-load of hardwood logs! [Illustration:
+(_Excerpt from the log of Cap't Matt Peasley_) "I am alone on the
+ship--all the rest are now dead"--]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+
+
+
+Four months had passed since the _Ecudorian_ had spoken Matt Peasley
+off the coast of Formosa; during that period no further news had been
+received in Cappy Ricks' office, although the diligent Skinner, aided
+and abetted by the waterfront reporters, managed to have a piece of
+cheering information for Florry about every two weeks. And, in order
+to forestall any possibility of some garrulous girl friend, with a
+male relative in the shipping business, "spilling the beans," as Cappy
+expressed it, the old man had taken a house in the country, and came
+to the office only twice a week to mourn for his lost Matthew and
+glean what little comfort he could from the empty words of hope Mr.
+Skinner dispensed so lavishly.
+
+"If we can only keep Florry buoyed up with hope until the baby comes!"
+Cappy would groan. "She's worried; but, strange to say, Skinner, she
+hasn't the slightest idea he's in any danger. Those fake cablegrams
+and reports of ships speaking Matt--each time closer to home--have
+done the trick, Skinner. Of course the boy's dead, and I killed him;
+but Florry--well, she took a trip on the _Retriever_ and knows how
+safe she is, and I've had a lot of old sailing skippers down to visit
+me, and primed them to tell her just how they would get away with such
+a proposition as Matt's--and how easy it would be. Besides, she knows
+Matt had some plague prophylactic aboard--"
+
+"Yes; and I've told her she mustn't show the white feather--for your
+sake," Mr. Skinner interrupted; "and I think she's sensible enough to
+know she mustn't permit herself to show it--for the baby's sake."
+
+Cappy bowed his head and shook like a hooked fish.
+
+"When the baby's two weeks old I'll tell her," he moaned. "Oh,
+Skinner, Skinner, my dear boy, this is going to kill me! I won't last
+long now, Skinner. All my fault! I had to go butting in. That girl's
+heart is breaking with anxiety. When she comes down to breakfast,
+Skinner, I can see she's been crying all night."
+
+"Horrible!" Mr. Skinner murmured. "Horrible!  We can only hope."
+
+On the twelfth of September Florry's baby was born.  It was a boy, and
+a bouncing boy at that; and Cappy Ricks forgot for the moment he had
+rendered that baby fatherless, and came up to the city to report the
+news to Skinner.
+
+"Well, Skinner, my dear boy," he announced with just a touch of his
+old-time jauntiness, "little Matthew just arrived! Everything lovely."
+
+Mr. Skinner was about to formulate suitable phrases of congratulation
+when the telephone bell rang. It was Jerry Dooley up at the Merchants'
+Exchange; and he was all excitement.
+
+"Hey, Skinner," he cried. "The _Retriever_ is passing in!"
+
+"No!" Mr. Skinner shrieked. "It isn't possible!"
+
+"It is! She's coming in the Gate now--she's right under the lookout's
+telescope; and there's only one man on deck--"
+
+Mr. Skinner turned to Cappy Ricks, put his arms round him and jerked
+the old man from one end of the office to the other.
+
+"He's safe, he's safe, he's safe, he's safe!" he howled indecorously.
+"Matt's sailing her in. He's sailing her in--"
+
+"You scoundrel!" Cappy shrilled. "Be quiet! Is she sailing in or
+towing--"
+
+"She's sailing in."
+
+Cappy Ricks slumped down in his chair, his arms hanging weakly at his
+sides.
+
+"Yes, Skinner," he barely whispered, "Matt's alive, after all. Nobody
+else would have the consummate crust to sail her in but him. Any other
+skipper under heaven would have hove to off the lightship and sent in
+word by the pilot boat to send out a tug. Oh, Lord, I thank Thee! I'm
+a wicked, foolish, bone-headed old man; but Lord, I do thank Thee--I
+do, indeed!"
+
+Half an hour later Cappy Ricks and Mr. Skinner, in a fast motorboat,
+came flying up the bay and caught sight of the _Retriever_ loafing
+lazily past Fort Mason. On she came, with a tiny bone in her teeth;
+and suddenly, as Cappy peered ahead through the spray that flew in
+over the bows of the launch and drenched him to the skin, the
+_Retriever's_ mainsail was lowered rapidly. The vessel was falling off
+by the time the mainsail was down and Cappy and Mr. Skinner saw Matt
+run aft, steady the wheel and bring the vessel up on the wind again.
+She was now under spanker and the headsails. Matt lashed the wheel and
+again ran forward, pausing at the main-topmast-staysail halyards to
+cast them off and permit the sail to come down by the run.
+
+On to the topgallant forecastle Matt Peasley leaped, praising his
+Maker for patent anchors on the _Retriever_. With a hammer he knocked
+out the stopper; the starboard anchor dropped and the red rust flew
+from her hawsepipe as the anchor chain screamed through it. With his
+hand on the compressor of the windlass, Matt Peasley snubbed her
+gently to the forty-five fathom shackle, cast off his jib halyards to
+let the jib slide down the stay by its own weight, raced aft, and
+gently lowered the spanker as the American barkentine _Retriever_,
+with the yellow flag flying at the fore, swung gently to anchor on the
+quarantine grounds, two hundred and twenty-one days from Manila.
+
+Cappy Ricks turned to his general manager.
+
+"Pretty work, Skinner!" he said huskily. "I guess there's nothing
+wrong with that boy's health. Damn! The quarantine boat will beat us
+to it! Matt's throwing the Jacob's ladder over the side for them."
+
+"We can't board her until she passes quarantine--" Mr. Skinner began;
+but Cappy silenced him with a terrible look.
+
+"The word can't, Skinner, was eliminated from my vocabulary some fifty
+years ago. We can--and I will! You needn't; but I've simply got to!
+Hey, you!"--to the launchman--"kick her wide open and show some
+speed."
+
+Despite the warning cries from the quarantine officers in the health
+boat, the launch ran in along the _Retriever's_ side; Cappy Ricks
+grasped the Jacob's ladder as the launch rasped by and climbed up with
+an agility that caused Mr. Skinner to marvel. As his silk hat appeared
+over the _Retriever's_ rail a wind-bitten, bewhiskered, gaunt,
+hungry-looking semi-savage reached down, grasped him under the arms,
+snaked him inboard and hugged him to his heart.
+
+Silence for a minute, while Cappy Ricks' thin old shoulders shook and
+heaved as from some internal spasm, and Matt Peasley's big brown hand
+patted Cappy's back. Presently he said:
+
+"Well, father-in-law--"
+
+From somewhere in Matt Peasley's whiskers Cappy's voice came
+plaintively:
+
+"Not father-in-law, sonny. New title--this morning--six
+o'clock--nine--pounds--grandfather! Eh? Yes; grandfather! Grandpa
+Ricks!"
+
+"Boy or girl?" Matt Peasley roared, and shook the newly-elected
+grandfather.
+
+"Boy! Florry--fine--never lost hope!"
+
+A port health officer came over the rail. He shook an admonitory
+finger at Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Hey, you! Old man, you're under arrest--that is, you're in
+quarantine, and you'll have to stay aboard this ship until she's
+fumigated. Yes; and we'll fumigate you, too. Whadje mean by coming
+aboard ahead of us?"
+
+"Cappy," Matt Peasley said, "tell that person to go chase himself!
+Why, there hasn't been any plague aboard the ship in nearly five
+months!"
+
+Cappy looked up and wiped the tears of joy out of his whiskers.
+
+"Scoundrel!" he cackled. "Infernal young scoundrel!  What do you mean
+by risking my _Retriever_, sailing her through the Gate with a crew of
+one man?"
+
+"Take a look at me!" Matt laughed. "I'm all hands!  And didn't I prove
+I'm enough men to handle her? The pilots wouldn't board me, and by
+sailing her in myself I saved pilotage and salvage claims. I lost the
+lower topsail and the consignees are going to find a shortage in those
+hardwood logs; but that's all--except that I haven't had a decent meal
+in God knows when. Say, Cappy, what does he look like? A Peasley or a
+Ricks?"
+
+"Both," Cappy chirped diplomatically. "Matt, are you all over the
+blue-water fever?"
+
+"You bet!" he declared. "No more relief jobs for me. I've had plenty,
+although it might have been worse. It was lonely and sometimes I
+thought I was going crazy. Used to talk out loud to myself! I had some
+awful weather; but I just tucked her head under her wing and let her
+roll, and after I ran into the northeast monsoon, and later into the
+westerly winds, I had it easier and got more rest. You know, Cappy,
+when a ship is sailing on the wind, if you lash her helm a little bit
+below amidships she'll steer herself. Slow work, but--I got here; and,
+now that I'm here, I'm going to stay here.
+
+"Of course, Cappy," he added, "I've just got to have something with
+sails to play with; but no more offshore sailing in mine--that
+is--well, I'm going to stay home for a long time--after a while,
+maybe--and meantime I'm going to build a little schooner yacht--"
+
+"For the love of Mike, do!" Cappy pleaded. "I'll be stuck in
+quarantine with you for a couple of days and we'll kill time drawing
+up a rough set of plans. And when that schooner yacht is ready, Matt,
+I'll tell you what I want you to do."
+
+"What, Cappy?"
+
+"Send the bill to grandpa, Matthew!"
+
+"If I hadn't been a case-hardened old fool I'd have cheered you on
+when you wanted to build that schooner yacht last year. I'd have saved
+myself a world of grief."
+
+He placed his hand gently on Matt's shoulder and his face was
+ineffably sad as he continued: "Of course, with you away and your fate
+undecided, as it were, Matt, that infernal Skinner wasn't worth two
+hoots in a hollow. Why, the boy flopped around the office like a
+rooster with its head off, and as a result I've had to come out of my
+retirement and keep an eye on things. Thank God, I can let go now.
+Really, Matt, you have no idea how I long to separate myself from the
+hurly-burly of California street. What I want is peace and
+seclusion--"
+
+"You can have my share of that commodity for the remainder of my
+natural life," Matt laughed happily, "I want noise and people. I want
+screaming and yelling and fighting and risks and profits and losses
+and liars and scoundrels and honest men all inextricably mixed." He
+tossed his great sun-tanned arms above his head. "Lord, I want Life,"
+he half shouted.
+
+Cappy sighed. These young pups! When they grow to see life as old
+dogs--
+
+"Well, Matt, all I've got to say is that the first man that butts into
+my private office and starts unloading a cargo of grief on me, is
+going to get busted between the eyes with a paper weight. I'm through
+with grief and woe. I don't give a hoot what happens to the world or
+anybody in it. I want peace and a rest. I can afford it and wouldn't I
+be a first-class idiot not to take it while the taking is good, Matt?"
+
+"No more mixing in the shipping end, eh?" Matt asked hopefully.
+
+Cappy raised his right hand solemnly. "Never again, Matt. I'm through
+with ships and sailors and cargoes and the whole cussed Blue Star
+fleet can sink and be damned to it, but I'll not lift a hand to save
+it. I'm THROUGH."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+
+
+
+ALAS! Man proposes, but God disposes. Cappy had smoked his post-
+prandial cigar next day and was in the midst of his mid-afternoon
+siesta, when the buzzer on his desk waked him with its insistent
+buzzing. He reached for the telephone.
+
+"My dear," he reproved his private exchange operator, "how often have
+I told you not to disturb me between two and three o'clock?"
+
+"I knew you wouldn't mind being disturbed this afternoon, Mr. Ricks.
+Your old friend Mr. Gurney, of New York, is calling."
+
+"Old Joe Gurney? By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet!  Show him in." Cappy
+was at the door to meet his visitor when the latter entered. Mr Joseph
+Gurney, senior partner of the firm of Gurney & Harlan, was, like Cappy
+Ricks, a shiping man and a Down-Easter. He and Cappy Ricks had been a
+boyhood friends in Thomaston, Main, and Gurney & Harlan were the
+agents and controlling owners of the Red Funnel line plying between
+New York and ports on the West Coast.
+
+"Well, Joe, you doddering old pirate?" cried Cappy  Ricks
+affectionately. "Come in and rest your hands and feet. I'm
+tremendously glad to see you. When did you drift into down?"
+
+He shook hands with Gurney and steered him toward  a chair.
+
+"Ten minutes ago, Alden, my boy. Delighted to see you again, and
+particularly pleased to see how carelessly you carry your years. I'm
+three months younger than you--and I feel like the last rose of
+summer."
+
+"You look it, Joe. Take a leaf out of my book and let the young
+fellows 'tend to business for you. Don't let worry ride over you in
+the shank of your old age, my boy. I never do. Haven't paid a bit of
+attention to business in the last ten years, and that's why at my age
+I'm looking so fit."
+
+"You'll live to be a hundred, Alden."
+
+Cappy smiled.
+
+"Well," he declared, "I'm going to live while I have the time. I never
+expect to be a walking corpse just stalling round in an effort to
+defer settlement with the undertaker, and I won't be a dead one until
+the neighbors hear a quartet singing Lead Kindly Light out at my
+house--Joe you look worried. Anything gone wrong with you, old friend?
+Need some money? Have you married a young wife?"
+
+"It's Joey," Gurney confessed miserably.
+
+"What? My godson, little Joey Gurney?"
+
+"He's big Joey Gurney now."
+
+"Yes, and a fine boy, Joe--no thanks to you. His mother's influence
+was strong enough to counteract any impulses for crime he might have
+inherited from his father."
+
+Gurney smiled sadly at Cappy Ricks' badinage.
+
+"He is a fine boy, Alden, but--he's only a boy, and I'm afraid he's
+going to make hash of his young life before it's fairly started."
+
+"Booze?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, then where did he first meet this woman?"
+
+Joe Gurney, Senior, hitched his chair close to his friend's and laid
+an impressive hand on Cappy's knee.
+
+"Alden," he said feelingly, "you and I have been friends, man and boy,
+for about sixty-five years. I believe we were five years old when we
+robbed Deacon Follansbee's beehive and got stung to death."
+
+"Yes, and we've both been getting stung more or less ever since, only
+somehow we still manage to recover and be none the worse for the
+experience. At least, Joe, we learned about bees. When it comes to
+boys, however, I've still got my experience coming. My little chap
+died when he was twelve, you know. I've never quite gotten over his
+loss; in fact, Joe, I was dreaming of him a minute ago when you
+called."
+
+"You had him long enough, Alden, to realize how I feel about Joey."
+
+Cappy nodded. "Let's see," he answered, reflectively pulling his
+whiskers, "Joey must be about twenty-four years old now, isn't he?"
+
+"Twenty-four last Tuesday; and at twenty-five he comes into his
+mother's fortune. I've managed his little nest egg pretty well, Alden;
+invested it all in the vessel property of Gurney & Harlan, and since
+the war started I've swelled what originally was a quarter of a
+million to about a million and a half. His stock in the Red Funnel
+Line is worth a million at the very least, and the remaining half
+million is represented by cold cash in bank and bonds that can be
+converted into cash overnight.
+
+"Hum-m-m! Harumph-h-h! Quite a fortune for a  youth of a twenty-five
+to be intrusted with. I'll bet somebody will take it away from him
+before he's thirty."
+
+"That's a safe bet, Alden. He has a candidate for his money on his
+trail right now."
+
+"And he doesn't realize it?"
+
+"Alden, he's only twenty-four years old. What does a boy know at
+twenty-four?"
+
+"Well, Joe, you and I had accumulated a heap of experience and hard
+knocks at that age, and I seem to remember we each had a little money
+we'd managed to save here and there. I don't agree with you at all on
+this twenty-four-year-old excuse. My son-in-law, Matt Peasley--you
+remember the Peasleys of Thomaston; Matt's a nephew of Ethan, who was
+lost off the main yard of the _Martha Peasley_--was holding a master's
+ticket for sail, any ocean and any tonnage, before he was twenty-one.
+He's not much older than your Joey right now, but, nevertheless, he's
+president of the Blue Star Navigation Company and worth a million and
+a half, every dollar of which he has made by his own energy and
+ability."
+
+"Well, of course, Alden, there are exceptions to every rule."
+
+"Not if you raise 'em right and you've got the right kind of stock to
+work on and the boy is healthy and normal. Now I know your Joey comes
+from the right stock; I know his mother raised him right until he was
+sixteen when the good Lord took her away from you both; and I know he
+is healthy and normal. Hasn't he proved that by falling in love? The
+only conclusion I can draw, therefore, is that you've made a monkey
+out of him, Joe Gurney."
+
+"Perhaps I have, Alden; perhaps I have," Gurney replied sadly.
+
+"No 'perhaps' about it. I know you have. You sent him to college and
+gave him ten thousand dollars a year to spend. If you wanted to give
+him a fine education and turn out a man and a gentleman you might have
+gotten him into the Naval Academy at Annapolis, where he would have
+learned something of ships and graduated with a master's ticket; after
+serving a few years and getting the corners knocked off him he could
+have resigned and you would have had a sane, dependable man to sit in
+at your desk when you're gone. By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, Joe
+Gurney, you make me sick! You're like every other damphool American
+father who accumulates a few million dollars in excess of his
+legitimate needs and then gets all puffed up with the notion he's got
+to give his son all the so-called advantages his own parents were too
+poor to afford him--or too sensible. The result is you turn out an
+undeveloped or over-developed boob, too proud to work and not able to
+take a real man's place in the world because he hasn't been taught
+how. And in the course of time he marries a female boob who has been
+raised according to the same general specifications, and nine times
+out of ten she's too refined to be bothered with a family. And
+presently there's a trip out to Reno and the little squib in the paper
+and--er--ahem! Drat your picture, Joe, you're the responsible party.
+You created a ten-thousand-dollar-a-year parasite on the body politic
+while your boy was still in his teens, and now you want to know what
+the devil to do about it, don't you?"
+
+"That's exactly what I want to know, Alden," Gurney confessed
+miserably, "and I've crossed the continent to get your advice. I
+haven't very many real friends--the kind I can open my heart to--"
+
+"Tut, tut, Joe. Enough of vain repining. Now then, old friend, let's
+get to the bottom of this thing and see if we can't buy this wreck in
+from the underwriters, salvage it and put it in commission again.
+Never say die, Joe! Where there's a will there's a lawsuit or a
+heartache--particularly if the estate makes it worth while. Now then,
+Joe, you must realize that it's the fashion nowadays, when a fellow
+has to consult a specialist, to give his personal and family history
+for three generations back before receiving treatment. So if I am to
+diagnose Joey's case I'll have to have a history of Joey. Now then! He
+graduated from college at the age of twenty-two did he not?"
+
+"He didn't graduate, Alden. He was requested to leave."
+
+"Hum-m-m! I didn't know that. What for?"
+
+"General uselessness and animal spirits, I suppose.  It wasn't
+anything dishonorable. The main contributory cause was an alleged poem
+lampooning some individual they called Prexy."
+
+"Hum-m-m! And since leaving college what has he done?"
+
+"I've had him in my office."
+
+"Joe, answer my question. I know you've had him in your office. But
+what has he done? Has he earned his salary?"
+
+"I'm afraid he hasn't, Alden. Somehow golf and tennis and week-end
+parties and yachting and big-game hunting in Alaska and tarpon fishing
+in Florida sort of interfere with business."
+
+"Well, that isn't much of a crime, Joe. I never had time to do those
+highly enjoyable things and I couldn't afford them. When I could
+afford them and had time to do them I was too old. You say the boy is
+fond of yachting?"
+
+"It's his greatest hobby. In his taste for salt water he at least
+resembles his ancestors. The Gurneys were all sailors and shipping
+men."
+
+"Is he a good yachtsman, Joe?"
+
+"He has a schooner that's a hundred and six feet over all and he seems
+to win pretty regularly with her. I never knew him to get worse than
+second place in all the races he has entered."
+
+"Too bad," Cappy Ricks murmured sadly. "A noble ambition absolutely
+misdirected. He would have been a skipper and, lastly, a good shipping
+man if you had only managed him like a sensible father should. Now
+about this girl he's in love with?"
+
+"That happened about three months ago. He met her at one of those
+roof-garden, midnight cabaret, turkey-trot palaces in New York--"
+
+"Yes, I know. I always take in the sights when I go to New York, but
+the last time I was at that one up near Fifty-fourth Street the noise
+bothered me. And the show was very poor; in fact, after seeing it I
+made up my mind I was off cabaret stuff for keeps."
+
+"You ancient scalawag! What were you doing in a place like that?"
+
+"Seeing life as it ought not to be, of course. Your boy Joey took me
+up there, by the way. In-fer-nal young scoundrel! He showed me the
+town and we had quite a time together."
+
+Joe Gurney's old eyes popped with amazement.
+
+"You went batting round with my Joey--an old ruin like you?"
+
+"Why not? We behaved ourselves, and besides I always trot a heat with
+the young fellows whenever I get a chance. It keeps me young. I
+enjoyed Joey a heap, although I could see he was a jolly young
+jackass. Moreover, I'm his godfather, and I guess it was all right for
+me to tag along and see to it that my godson didn't get into deep
+water close to the shore, wasn't it? Don't you ever step out with Joey
+and get your nose wet?"
+
+"Certainly not!"
+
+Cappy Ricks smiled wistfully.
+
+"If I had a son I'd pal up with him," he declared.  "I'd want to get
+out with him and raise a little dignified hell once in a while, just
+to be a human being and keep him from being a mollycoddle. Ahem!
+Harumph. So he flagged this damsel in the leg show, eh?"
+
+Joe Gurney nodded miserably.
+
+"Have you given her the once over?" Cappy demanded.
+
+"Yes, I went up there one night. I was afraid somebody would see me,
+so I took along Joey's aunt, Matilda. We saw the young woman. She does
+a dance specialty--an alleged Hawaiian hula-hula. It's fake from start
+to finish."
+
+"You show a guilty technical knowledge of the hula, Joe," Cappy
+reminded him. "But passing that, what's the latest report on the
+situation?"
+
+"Horrible, Alden, horrible!" replied Joe Gurney.
+
+"Careful, Joe, careful! Many a wheat-straw skirt and sharks'-teeth
+necklace may conceal a pure and honest heart."
+
+"Well, she's been married twice and divorced once, to begin with,
+and--"
+
+"That's a-plenty, Joe."
+
+"And she has just completed her contract in the show and gone out to
+Reno to acquire a six months' residence in order to get rid of husband
+number two so she can take on Joey."
+
+"Who told you all this?"
+
+"I found it out--by asking."
+
+"Have you told Joey?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Does he know it?"
+
+Gurney nodded.
+
+"I had one of his young friends, whom I can trust, tip him off in
+confidence. The news didn't make any difference to Joey. He asked her
+about it, and she explained it all away to his entire satisfaction."
+
+"I dare say. And you haven't given any indication to your son that
+you're on to him and his love affair?"
+
+"I thought best to pretend ignorance, pending my arrival at a solution
+of the difficulty."
+
+"Therein you showed a gleam of real intelligence.  Having humored your
+boy all his life you could not expect to cross him in his first love
+affair and get away with it. No, sir-ree! The thing to do is to put
+the skids under Joey and his lady love before they know you know it.
+Tell me more about her, however, before I begin making skids and skid
+grease."
+
+"She is thirty-one years old--"
+
+Cappy Ricks threw up both hands.
+
+"Farewell, O my countrymen!" he murmured.
+
+"She has two children--one by her first husband and one by her second.
+They're living with her mother. She supports them from the proceeds of
+her hula dancing."
+
+"Score a white mark for her, Joe. Is she a good looker?"
+
+"A brunette, Alden, and Joey's Aunt Matilda admitted against her will
+that she was a beauty. My lawyer tells me, however, that she hasn't an
+ounce of brains, and proclaims the fact by laughing loudly when there
+is nothing particularly worth laughing at."
+
+"I imagine you've had a detective agency investigating her."
+
+"I have. She has little education and no refinement; her people are
+very ordinary. Her father is a whitewing in Philadelphia and is
+separated from her mother, who keeps a boarding house in Muncie,
+Indiana."
+
+"I'm afraid, Joe, she won't do for your daughter-in-law," Cappy Ricks
+opined slowly. "But don't worry, my boy. You've come all the way from
+New York to confide in me and get my advice, and somehow I have a
+sneaking notion you've come to the right shop. If there's anybody
+calculated to put a crimp in love's young dream, I'm that individual."
+
+"I knew Joey and you were good friends, and besides, you're his
+godfather. He thinks a lot of you, Alden, and I kind of thought maybe
+you might come East with me, see the boy, get him to confide in you
+and--er--sort of advise him in the way he should go. I'm--er--well,
+Alden, I'm afraid I feel too badly about this to talk to Joey. I might
+lose my temper, and besides--besides, he's all I have and he reminds
+me so much of his mother that I--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I understand, Joe. Leave it to me and I'll advise with him.
+Yes, I will--with an ax handle! And I'll go East with you and tie
+knots in his tail--only he won't know anything about it. It may cost
+you a little money, but I assume expense is no object."
+
+"It would be cheap at a million."
+
+"Where that boy and your money are concerned you're such an ass, Joe,
+I'm almost tempted to charge you a million extra for the operation.
+However, considering Deacon Follansbee's beehive, and Joey's mother
+and my godson--"
+
+Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his, that trembled so
+with age and anxiety.
+
+"Dear old Alden," he declared. "I knew you wouldn't fail me."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+
+
+
+For a long time after old Joe Gurney had terminated his visit Cappy
+Ricks sat in the position which with him always denoted intense mental
+concentration. He had sunk low in his swivel chair and swung his old
+legs to the top of his desk; his head was bowed on his breast and his
+eyes were closed.
+
+Suddenly he started as if snake-bitten, sat up at his desk and reached
+for the telephone.
+
+"Get me the West Coast Trading Company," he ordered the private
+exchange operator, "and tell Mr. J. Augustus Redell I want to speak to
+him."
+
+Redell answered presently.
+
+"Gus, my dear young friend," Cappy began briskly, "I want you to do me
+a favor, and in so doing I think you'll find you are going to perform
+one for yourself also."
+
+"Good news, Cappy. Consider it done."
+
+"Thank you, my boy, but this particular favor isn't done quite so
+quickly. I want you to tell that Peruvian partner of yours, Live Wire
+Luiz Almeida to dig up a specification for a cargo of fir to be
+discharged on lighters at some open roadstead on the West Coast, and
+the more open the port and the more difficult it is to discharge
+there; and the harder it is to get any sane shipowner to charter a
+vessel to deliver a cargo there, the better I'll be pleased. Surely,
+Gus, you must have a customer down on the West Coast in some such port
+as I describe, who is actually watering at the mouth for a cargo of
+lumber and is unable to place it with a mill that will guarantee
+delivery? Look into the matter, Augustus, and see what you can do for
+me."
+
+"Do you want to furnish such a cargo from one of the Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company's northern mills and freight it in one of your Blue
+Star Navigation Company vessels?"
+
+"No, I don't want to do it," Cappy replied; "but in this particular
+case the acceptance of such a cargo and the freighting of it via a
+Blue Star windjammer, even though the usual demurrage at such
+discharging ports will cause the vessel a loss, is a consummation
+devoutly to be wished. Ordinarily, if you made such a proposition to
+me I'd call in the boys from the general office and tell them to throw
+you out, but--well, in this case I'm willing to stand the loss,
+Augustus."
+
+Yes, you are--not. Somebody else will recompense you for any loss,
+Cappy Ricks, never fear. Do you want the West Coast Trading Company to
+give you a bonus for accepting our order?"
+
+"No, my boy. I'll make Skinner sell you the lumber at the regular base
+price at the mill, plus insurance and freight to point of discharge.
+And I won't stick you too deep on the freight, even in wartime."
+
+"There's something wrong with you this morning, Cappy," Redell
+declared, highly mystified. "You're too obliging. However, I'm not to
+be outgamed. I have a specification for a cargo of half a million feet
+for delivery at Sobre Vista, Peru; I've been trying for a month to
+place the order and nobody will accept it because nobody wants to
+guarantee delivery. On the other hand, the purchasers have been unable
+to get any ship owner to charter them a vessel to go to Sobre Vista
+without a guaranty of a perfectly prohibitive rate of demurrage per
+diem; consequently I had just about abandoned my efforts to place the
+order."
+
+"Fine business, Gus. And is Sobre Vista a rotten port at which to
+discharge?"
+
+"It's vile, Cappy. It's an open roadstead and the vessel lies
+off-shore and discharges into lighters. About four days a week the
+surf is so high the lighters cannot lie alongside the ship or be run
+up on the beach without being ruined, and to complicate the situation
+they only have two or three lighters at the port. Labor is scarce,
+too, and the few _cargadores_ a skipper can hire have a habit of
+working two days and staying drunk for the remainder of the week on
+the proceeds of those two days of labor. So you can see for yourself
+that discharge in Sobre Vista is very hard on the skipper's nerves,
+and that if he can work two days a week he's in luck. And when we
+deduct from those two days all the national holidays and holy days and
+saints' feast days that have to be duly celebrated, not to mention the
+three hundred and sixty-five days in the year the populace doesn't
+feel like exerting itself--well, Cappy, I couldn't give you anything
+worse than Sobre Vista if you paid me for it."
+
+"May the good Lord bless you, Augustus! Come down and do business with
+Skinner on the cargo. Get him to quote you a price f.o.b. ship's
+tackles at the mill dock and tell him you'll furnish the tonnage when
+the cargo is ready for delivery. There's no sense in worrying poor
+Skinner until his worries are due, and when I send a Blue Star
+schooner to load your cargo for Sobre Vista I'm going to have to fight
+him and my son-in-law, Matt Peasley. But leave it to me, Gus. I'll
+guarantee the tonnage."
+
+"This is certainly wonderful," the grateful Redell observed. "Thank
+you, Cappy. What I'll do to those Peruvian customers of mine on price
+will be a shame and a disgrace. Are you going to stick me for any
+demurrage on the vessel, Cappy? Because if you are, I'll have to stick
+my customers in order to get out clean."
+
+"No demurrage, Gus, not a penny."
+
+"Bully! Then I'll stick my customers anyhow. It makes the profit all
+the greater, and since they expect to pay a reasonable demurrage I see
+no reason why I should disappoint them."
+
+When Redell had hung up Cappy summoned into his presence Captain Matt
+Peasley.
+
+"Matt," he queried, "what schooners have you got due at any one of our
+northern mills within the next thirty days?"
+
+Matt Peasley pondered and counted on his big fingers. "The _Tyee_ will
+be in from Valparaiso about that time," he answered.
+
+"Have you got her chartered?"
+
+"Oh, no. We're using her in our own trade. Skinner will have a cargo
+ready for her by the time she gets back, although we don't know yet
+where we will send her."
+
+"Well, Matt, you tell Skinner he can't have her and to look around for
+some other vessel to take her place. I may give her to him at the last
+minute, but then again I may not. When she arrives at the mill,
+Matthew, my boy, tie her up to the mill dock to await my pleasure."
+
+"Why, what the devil are you going to do with the _Tyee?_" Matt
+demanded, astounded beyond measure.
+
+"I might want to take a cruise for my health and use the _Tyee_ as a
+pleasure boat," Cappy answered enigmatically. "They tell me she's as
+fast as a yacht in a breeze of wind."
+
+"The longer I'm acquainted with you, father-in-law," Matt Peasley
+declared, "the less I know you. You can have your _Tyee_, but for
+every day she is held awaiting your pleasure your personal account
+will be charged with something in three figures. I'll figure out her
+average profit per day for the last five voyages and soak you
+accordingly."
+
+"Fair enough," quoth Cappy Ricks.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+
+
+
+Three weeks later Alden P. Ricks arrived in New York. After he had
+been driven to his hotel and had removed the stains of travel he
+telephoned the office of Gurney & Harlan and got Gurney, Senior, on
+the line.
+
+"Well, I'm here, Joe," he announced. "Have you followed my
+instructions and cut Joey off at the pockets?"
+
+"I have, Alden. He's rather desperate as a result, and has been trying
+to borrow money by hypothecating the inheritance due him on his
+twenty-fifth birthday. You see, I didn't give him a second's notice;
+just told him he was spending too much time in play and too much money
+for pleasure, and that until he came into his private fortune he would
+have to earn any money he desired to spend. I have been very firm."
+
+"That's the stuff, Joe. And is he trying to earn it?"
+
+"Yes, I think so. He's sticking round the office at any rate."
+
+"Hum-m-m! That's because it costs money to go anywhere else. Has he
+succeeded in raising a loan by assigning an interest in his
+inheritance?"
+
+"No, not yet. I blocked him at all the banks and with my old friends,
+and I do not think he can borrow as much as he needs from any of his
+friends. They, like him of course, are dependent on their fathers'
+generosity."
+
+"Fine way to raise a boy! Bully. Well, I'll be down to your office in
+about an hour and take you and Joey to luncheon at India House. You
+haven't forgotten what I wrote you, Joe? You know your part, don't
+you? . . . Well, see that you play your hand well and we'll save that
+boy yet."
+
+Two hours later the Gurneys were lunching with Cappy Ricks at the one
+New York club to which Cappy belonged--quaint old India House in
+Hanover Square, haunt of shipping men and shippers, perhaps the best
+and least-known club in New York City. Joey had been unaffectedly glad
+to see his godfather; so much so, indeed, that Cappy rightly guessed
+Joey had designs on the Ricks pocketbook; for after all, as Cappy
+admitted to himself, he is a curmudgeon of a godfather indeed who will
+refuse to loan his godson a much needed twenty-five thousand dollars
+on gilt-edged security. In expectation of an application for a loan
+before the day should be done, however, Cappy was careful not to be
+alone with Joey for an instant, for something told him that only the
+presence of Gurney, Senior, kept Gurney Junior from promptly putting
+his fortune to the touch.
+
+"Well, Joey, you young cut-up," Cappy began as the trio settled in the
+smoking room and the waiter brought the coffee and cigars, "I see
+you're getting to be quite an amateur sailor. Your Dad tells me you
+won your last race with that schooner yacht of yours in rather pretty
+fashion."
+
+"It was a bully race, Mr. Ricks. I wish you could have been aboard
+with me," Joey declared enthusiastically.
+
+"Hum-m-m! Catch me on a yacht!" Cappy's tones were indicative of
+profound disgust.
+
+"Ricks, you're a kill-joy," old Gurney struck in.  "All you think of
+is making money, and you've made so much of it I should think the game
+would have palled on you long ago. I tell Joey to go it while he's
+young--while he has the capacity for enjoyment."
+
+"Joe, I tell you now, as I've told you before, you're spoiling this
+boy. When he's twenty-five years old he comes into a fortune and
+you're not even preparing him for the task of handling that money
+wisely. You bought Joey that schooner yacht, didn't you?"
+
+"I bought her cheap," old Joe Gurney protested lamely.
+
+"They cost a fortune to maintain, Joe. Now if Joey wanted some
+salt-water experience you should have sent him to sea as quartermaster
+on one of your own Red Funnel liners; presently he would have worked
+up to second mate; then first mate, and finally skipper. By that time
+he would have known the salt-water end of his father's business, after
+which he could sit in at a desk and learn the business end. Somehow,
+Joe, when I see a shipping man's son fooling away his time on a
+pleasure yacht instead of learning the shipping business, I feel as if
+I'd just taken a dose of ipecac."
+
+"Godfather is out of sorts," Joey soliloquized sagely, and resolved to
+wait a day or two before broaching the subject of a loan. Cappy Ricks
+surveyed the young fellow severely.
+
+"Joey," he began, "I've no doubt you're quite a sailor on your
+handsome yacht, in your yachting uniform, with all the real head work
+to be done by your sailing master--"
+
+"Not a bit of it," Joey protested. "I'm not that kind of a yachtsman.
+I'm the captain tight and the midshipmite, and the crew take orders
+from me, because I don't employ a sailing master."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that when you go on a cruise to the West
+Indies you navigate the yacht yourself--lay out your own courses and
+work out your own position?"
+
+Joey smiled patronizingly.
+
+"Certainly," he replied. "That's easy."
+
+"Sure. Play is always easy. But let me tell you, young man, if you had
+command of a big three-legged windjammer, with a deckload of heavy
+green lumber fresh from the saws, and ran into a stiff sou'-easter
+such as we have out on the Pacific coast, you'd know what real
+sailoring is like."
+
+"Joey could handle her like that," old Gurney  declared with pride,
+and snapped his fingers.
+
+"Could you, Joey?" Cappy Ricks demanded. "I have my doubts."
+
+"Why, I think so, Mr. Ricks. I might be a little cautious at first--"
+
+"Well, I don't think you could," Cappy interrupted.
+
+"Well, I do," old Gurney declared with some warmth.  "I've been out
+with Joey on his yacht and I know what the boy can do."
+
+"Bah! You're a doddering old softy, Joe. Yachting is one thing and
+sailoring is another. I have an old lumber hooker on Gray's Harbor
+now, loading for a port in Peru, and I'd certainly love to see Joey
+with her on his hands. I'll bet fifty thousand dollars he couldn't
+sail her down to Sobre Vista, discharge her and sail back inside of
+six months." The old schemer chuckled. "Lordy me," he continued, "I'd
+like to see Joey trying to make her point up into the wind! She'd
+break his heart."
+
+"Look here, Alden," Old Joe Gurney commenced to bristle. "Are you
+serious about that or are you just making conversation bets? Because
+if you're serious I'm just shipping man enough to call you for the
+sheer sporting joy of it."
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, you're on!" Cappy Ricks almost yelled.
+"Put up or shut up--that is, provided Joey is as big a sport as his
+father and will undertake to sail my schooner _Tyee_ to Sobre Vista
+and back."
+
+"Oh, she's a schooner!" There was relief in Joey's voice. "Why, I'll
+sail any vessel with a fore-and-aft rig. I thought perhaps you were
+trying to ring in a square-rigger on me, and I'm not familiar with
+them. But a schooner--pooh! Pie for little Joey!"
+
+"She's got three legs, and with a deck-load of lumber she's cranky and
+topheavy. I'm warning you, Joey. Remember he is a poor ship owner who
+doesn't know his own ship."
+
+Joey got up and went to a map laid out on a table, with a piece of
+plate glass over it, to compute the sailing distance from Gray's
+Harbor to Sobre Vista. He could not find Sobre Vista on the map.
+
+"Figure the distance to Mollendo and you'll be close enough for all
+practical purposes," Cappy called to him, and winked at the boy's
+father. "A little pep, here, boy," he whispered to Gurney, "and we'll
+snare him yet."
+
+Joey came back from his study of the map.
+
+"I'd have the nor'west trades clear to the Line," he remarked to his
+father. "After that I'd be liable to bang round for a couple of weeks
+in the doldrums, but in spite of that--did you say I couldn't do it in
+six months, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"That's what I said, Joey."
+
+"Take the bet, dad," said Joey quietly, "and I'll take half of it off
+your hands. I'll give you my note, secured by an assignment of a
+twenty-five-thousand-dollar interest in mother's estate to secure you
+in case Mr. Ricks should win and call you for his winnings--but he
+hasn't a chance in the world."
+
+"Money talks," Cappy Ricks warned him and got out his check book.
+"Joe, I'll make a check in your favor for fifty thousand dollars and
+you make one in my favor for the same amount. We will then deposit
+both checks with the secretary of the club, who will act as
+stakeholder--"
+
+"'Nuff said, Alden P. Ricks. I accept the dare.  Sonny, if you're a
+worse sailor-man than you appear to be, you're liable to cost your
+father a sizable wad. However, I can't resist this opportunity to put
+a nick in the Ricks bank roll." Gurney snickered. "Alden," he
+declared, "you'll bleed for a month of Sundays. Really, this is too
+easy! For old sake's sake, I'll give you a chance to withdraw before
+it is too late."
+
+"Let the tail go with the hide, Joe. I don't often bet, but when I do
+I'm no piker. Joey, there's just one little condition I'm going to
+exact, however. I'm going to send one of my own skippers along with
+you on the _Tyee_, because your license as master only permits you to
+skipper pleasure boats up to a hundred tons net register; so in order
+to comply with the law I'll have to have a sure-enough skipper aboard
+the _Tyee_. But he shall have orders from me to be nothing but a
+companion to you, Joey. Once the tugboat casts you off, you are to be
+in supreme command until you voluntarily relinquish your authority,
+when of course he will take the ship off your hands. Any
+relinquishment of authority, however, will be tantamount to failure,
+and you will, of course, lose your twenty-five thousand."
+
+"That's a reasonable stipulation, godfather. I accept if father
+does--that is, provided dad lets me in on half the bet."
+
+"Better let the young feller in, Joe," Cappy suggested.  "If you don't
+he might throw the race."
+
+"Well, I don't like to encourage the habit of betting, least of all
+with my own son, but in view of the fact that this is a friendly
+little bet and--er--well, you can have half, Joey."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Joey. "Mr. Ricks, when do I start?"
+
+Cappy Ricks glanced at his watch.
+
+"The sooner the better," he replied. "The _Tyee_ is loading now, but
+I'll wire them you're coming and to hold her for you. You have time to
+arrange your affairs, pack a trunk and catch the Lake Shore Limited
+for Chicago at five o'clock. From Chicago you take the--"
+
+"Never mind. I know the quickest route. Dad, I'll need some money
+before I go."
+
+"How much, son?"
+
+"Oh, a couple of thousand, just to play safe. And I'll have to leave
+you a batch of bills to settle for me."
+
+"All right, son, I'll settle them. Here's your two thousand. You can
+pay me back out of your winnings on the voyage. And never mind about
+your note or the assignment of an interest in your inheritance. If I
+cannot take my own son's word of honor I don't deserve a son. Just
+take care of yourself, Joey, because if anything should happen to you
+it would go rather hard with your old man."
+
+He wrote Joey a check for two thousand dollars and took an
+affectionate farewell of his son.
+
+"Now listen to me, my dear young Hotspur," Cappy Ricks commanded him
+as he shook Joey's hand in farewell. "The schooner's name is _Tyee_
+and you'll find her at the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company's mill dock
+in Aberdeen, on Gray's Harbor, Washington. And don't be afraid of her.
+She was built to weather anything. The skipper's name is Mike Murphy,
+and if you can't get along with Mike and learn to love him before
+you're in the ship a week, there's something wrong with you, Joey.
+Just don't start anything with Mike though, because he always finishes
+strong, and whatever he does is always right--with me. When you get
+out there he'll show you the orders I will have telegraphed him and
+you have my word of honor, boy, that there'll be no double-crossing
+and no interference unless you request it."
+
+"Right-o!" cried Joey, and was off to earn twenty-five thousand
+dollars of the easiest money he had ever heard of.
+
+"Like spearing a fish in a bathtub," murmured Cappy Ricks dreamily,
+and tore up the fifty-thousand-dollar check he had just written. "Joe,
+if your boy is such easy game for a pair of old duffers like us, just
+think what soft picking he must have been for that nimble-footed lady
+with the raven hair, the pearly teeth and the eyes that won't behave!"
+
+"But she's coarse and brainless, Alden. I can't imagine a boy like my
+Joey falling in love with a woman like that. He ought to know better.
+Just remember how he was raised."
+
+"Fooey! Joey isn't in love. He only thinks he is, and the reason he
+thinks it is because she has told him so a hundred times. Can't you
+just see her looking up at Joey with her startled-fawn eyes and
+saying: 'Oh, you do love me, don't you, Joey?' As if the fact that
+Joey loved her constituted the eighth wonder of the world! And she's
+probably told Joey she'll die if he ever ceases to love her; and he's
+kind and obliging and wouldn't hurt a fly if he could avoid it. Why,
+Joe, you old idiot, you mustn't feel that Joey has disgraced himself.
+Isn't he planning to marry the woman? Only a decent man--a born
+idealist--could hold that designing woman in such reverence. Blamed if
+it isn't kind of sweet of the boy, although I _would_ love to give him
+a kick that would jar all his relations--including his father!"
+
+Old Joe Gurney gazed at Cappy in admiration.
+
+"Alden," he declared, "you have a singularly acute knowledge of
+women."
+
+"I employ about fifteen of 'em round my office; I had several narrow
+escapes in my youth; I have had a sweet and wonderful wife--and I have
+a replica of her in my daughter. And I do know young men, for I have
+been young myself; and I know old fools like you, Joe, because I've
+never had a son to make an old fool of myself over."
+
+"Well, now that you've hooked Joey for a six months' voyage, what's
+next on the program?" Gurney asked after a brief silence.
+
+Cappy smiled--a prescient little smile.
+
+"Why, I'm going to pull off a wedding," he declared.  "I'm going to
+marry Joey to the sweetest, nicest, healthiest, prettiest, brainiest
+little lady of twenty summers that ever threatened to put the Ricks
+organization on the toboggan. She's my private secretary and I've got
+to get rid of her or some of the young fellows in our office will be
+killing each other."
+
+"Here, here, Alden, my boy, go slow! I ought to be consulted in this
+matter. Who is this young lady and what are her antecedents?"
+
+"Say, who's running this layout?" Cappy demanded.  "Didn't you come to
+me squealing for help? Joe, take a back seat and let me try my hand
+without any advice from you. The girl's name is Doris Kenyon and she's
+an orphan. Her father used to be the general manager of my redwood
+mill on Humboldt Bay, and her mother was a girlhood friend of my late
+wife's; so naturally I've established a sort of protectorate over her.
+She has to work for a living, and any time there's a potentially fine,
+two-million-dollar husband like Joey lying round loose I like to see
+some deserving working girl land the cuss. As a matter of fact, it's
+almost a crime to steer her against Joey in his present state. But,"
+Cappy added, "I have a notion that before Joey gets rid of that
+hula-hula girl he's going to be a sadder, wiser and poorer young man
+than he is at present."
+
+"Your plan, then, is to give Joey six months away from his captor in
+order that he may forget her?"
+
+"Exactly. Absence makes the heart grow colder in cases like the one
+under discussion, and the sea is a great place for a fellow to do some
+quiet, sane, uninterrupted thinking. The sea, at night particularly,
+is productive of much introspection and speculation on the various
+aspects of life, and in order to make Joey forget this vampire in a
+hurry all that is necessary is to have a real woman round him for a
+while. The first thing he knows he'll be making comparisons and the
+contrast will appall him."
+
+"You don't mean--"
+
+"You bet I do. Joey's future wife accompanies him on the voyage, and
+my bully port captain, Mike Murphy, and his amiable sister go along to
+chaperone the party and make up a foursome at bridge. I've had a naval
+architect at work on the old cabin of the _Tyee_, putting in some
+extra staterooms, bathrooms, and so on, and in order to make a space
+for the passengers I subsidized the two squarehead mates into berthing
+with the crew in the fo'-castle. Doris always did want to take a
+voyage in one of the Blue Star windjammers, and I had promised to send
+her at the first convenient opportunity."
+
+"You deep-dyed, nefarious old villain!"
+
+"Old Cupid Ricks, eh? Well, it's lots of fun, Joe, this butting in on
+love's young dream. And I'm just so constituted I've got to run other
+people's affairs for them or I wouldn't be happy. I do think, however,
+that this house party on the old _Tyee_ is about the slickest deal I
+have ever put over. Joe, they're going to be right comfortable. I've
+shipped a maid for the girls, and the cook this time is several
+degrees superior to the average maritime specimen, for there's nothing
+like a couple of days of bum cooking to upset tempers--and I'm taking
+no chances. Also, just before I left I gave your future
+daughter-in-law her quarterly dividend--you see, when her father died
+I had to sort of look after the family, and I ran a bluff that Kenyon
+had some Ricks Lumber & Logging Company stock--you know, Joe. Proud
+stuff! I had to hornswoggle them. Well, as I say, I gave her the
+money, and my girl Florry went shopping with her. Sports clothes? Wow!
+Wow! White skirts, blue jersey, little sailor hat--man--oh, man, the
+stage is set to the last detail! I even had them ship a piano. Doris
+plays the guitar and has a pleasing voice, and just for good measure I
+threw in a crackajack cabinet phonograph and a hundred records with
+enough sentimental drip to sink the schooner."
+
+Joe Gurney stared at his old friend rather helplessly and  shook his
+head. Such finesse was beyond his comprehension.
+
+"You see, now," Cappy continued, "the wisdom of my course? I insisted
+that you cut off Joey's allowance and get him hungry for money. You
+did--and he got hungry. He would have been posted at his clubs in
+thirty days; it is probable he owed a few bets here and there; his
+tailor may have needed money. Consequently, by the time I arrived on
+the scene he was ripe for any legitimate enterprise that would bring
+him in the needful funds; we arranged the enterprise and he promptly
+smothered it. Right off, Joe, your son said to himself: 'It will be
+almost a year before I come into my inheritance, and in the interim
+I'm going to get married, and a married man who lives on the scale my
+wife will expect me to assume is going to need a lot more money than a
+clerkship in his father's shipping office will bring him. Now, there's
+Tootsy-Wootsy out in Reno with a five months' sentence staring her in
+the eye before she'll be free to marry me, and I can't very well go
+out to Reno to visit her without running the risk of incurring my
+father's displeasure or the tongue of gossip. Consequently, I have
+five months' time to kill, also, and how better can I kill it than by
+a jolly sea voyage in a bally old lumber hooker? I can easily win
+twenty-five thousand dollars from my godfather, and that twenty-five
+thousand will carry us along until dad turns over my mother's estate
+to me. Fine business! I'll go to it.' And, Joe, he's done gone! Of
+course I'm going to win his twenty-five thousand bet because he
+doesn't know what it means to discharge a vessel in Sobre Vista, and
+Mike Murphy has orders from me to hire all the available stevedores
+there to do something else while Joey is trying to hire them to
+discharge the _Tyee_. Don't worry, Joe! The country is safe in the
+capable hands of Mike Murphy."
+
+"I see. And the twenty-five thousand dollars you will win from Joey--"
+
+"Will reimburse me for the extraordinary expense I've been to in
+saving your son. If Joey's end of the bet doesn't cover I'll nick you,
+Joseph, although I figure Joey's end of it will pay the fiddler. He
+won't miss it out of his two millions. Besides, I've noticed that the
+only experience worth while is the kind you pay real money for--and
+Joey has to buy his experience the same as the rest of us."
+
+Five days later Cappy Ricks dropped into the Red Funnel Line and laid
+a telegram on old Joe Gurney's desk.
+
+"Read that," he commanded, "and see if you can't work up a couple of
+cheers."
+
+Gurney read:
+
+"Aberdeen, Wash., June 3, 1916
+
+"Alden P. Ricks
+
+"Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York
+
+"Joey arrived bung up and bilge free. Had loaded and hauled into
+stream, waiting for him. Came out in launch, climbed Jacob's ladder
+and stood on rail, sizing up ship. Saw Doris and almost fell face down
+on deck. He says Doris is a dream, she says Joey is a dear. Take it
+from me, boss, it is all over but the wedding bells.
+
+"M. CUPID MURPHY."
+
+Old Joe Gurney took Cappy Ricks' hand in both of his and shook it
+heartily.
+
+"My worries are over, Alden," he declared. "You have, indeed, been my
+friend in need."
+
+"My troubles and Joey's are just commencing, however," Cappy retorted
+blithely. "However--'never trouble trouble until trouble troubles you'
+is my motto. Where's that hundred-and-six-foot schooner yacht of
+Joey's?"
+
+"She's at her moorings in Greenpoint Basin. Why?"
+
+"I want to borrow her for a cruise to San Francisco, via the Panama
+Canal. Joey and his bride can sail her back. May I have her, to do
+what I please with, Joe?"
+
+"Alden, don't ask foolish questions. Take her and God bless you! Joey
+owns her, but I pay the bills; so her skipper takes orders from me."
+
+Two days later Joey's schooner _Seafarer_ was standing out to sea past
+Sandy Hook, but Cappy Ricks was not aboard her, for that ingenious
+schemer had boarded a train and gone back to San Francisco and his
+lumber and ships.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+
+
+
+Cappy Ricks' meditations were interrupted by a knock at the door of
+his private office.
+
+"Come in," he piped, and his son-in-law, Captain Matt Peasley, stuck
+his head in.
+
+"The _Tyee_ is sailing in, Cappy," he announced. "The Merchants'
+Exchange has just telephoned."
+
+"It's an infernal lie," Cappy shrilled excitedly. "It can't be the
+_Tyee_. If it is, she's two months ahead of her schedule, and by the
+Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I fixed up that schedule myself."
+
+Matt Peasley grinned.
+
+"Perhaps Joey didn't like your schedule and re-arranged it to suit
+himself," he suggested.
+
+"Impossible! That infernal young scoundrel put it over me?
+Preposterous! Why, Mike Murphy was on the job. Get out, Matt, and
+don't come in here again today throwing scares into the old man."
+
+Nevertheless, Cappy's confidence in human nature was badly jarred when
+Captain Michael J. Murphy was announced two hours later. Indeed Cappy
+could scarcely credit his sense of sight when the redoubtable Michael
+entered the room. He glared at the worthy fellow over the rims of his
+spectacles for fully a minute while Murphy stood fidgeting just inside
+the doorway.
+
+"Well," said the Blue Star despot presently, "all I've got to say to
+you, Mike Murphy, is that you're certainly a hell of a seaman to stand
+idly by and see that young Joey do me up like this. Give an account of
+yourself!"
+
+"They're engaged," Murphy protested valiantly.
+
+"That's my work, Mike, not yours. Don't take any credit that isn't
+coming to you. I want a report on your end of this deal. How does it
+happen that this boy harpoons me for twenty-five thousand dollars?
+Have the _cargadores_ at Sobre Vista gone on the water wagon? Did Joey
+out-bid you for their services? Have they added a lot more lighters to
+their lighterage fleet? Has the surf quit rolling in on the beach?
+Have the inhabitants of Sobre Vista been converted to the Mohammedan
+faith and declined to celebrate saints' days and holy days? Is there
+smallpox in the town, that the quietus has been put on fiestas and
+fandangoes, and has Peru been annexed by Chile and the celebration of
+the national holidays forbidden?"
+
+"No, Mr. Ricks. It's the same old _manana_ burg.  The trouble was that
+Joey is a better sailorman than he appeared to be. He cracked on all
+the way down and made a smashing voyage, and, of course, as soon as we
+got there he went ashore. Two other schooners were there ahead of us.
+One was loading general cargo and the other was discharging it, and
+when Joey heard they had been there a month he investigated conditions
+and saw where you had him. Mr. Ricks, he came back as mad as a hatter.
+Of course I saw he would have to wait until the other schooners were
+out of the way before he could begin discharging, because they had
+first call on the lighters; so in view of the situation and the fact
+that Miss Murphy and Doris were a bit tired of the ship and wanted to
+go ashore and see the back country, I organized a trip for them."
+
+"You left Joey aboard the Tyee, of course."
+
+"Yes, sir. And there's where I made my fatal break.  The minute my
+back was turned the son of a pirate got busy. It appears there was a
+six-inch waste pipe leading from the crew's lavatory out under the
+stern of the ship, and this pipe had rusted away and broken off at the
+flange just inside the skin of the ship sometime during the vessel's
+previous voyage. Of course it happened while she was homeward bound in
+ballast, and was standing so high out of the water that this vent
+where the pipe was broken was above the waterline; consequently not
+enough of a leak developed to be noticeable. At the mill dock,
+however, after we got her under-deck cargo aboard, the vessel had
+settled until this vent was under water, and immediately she developed
+a mysterious leak. In fact, due to the enormous pressure, the water
+came in faster than the pumps could handle it. Fortunately, however,
+we discovered where the leak was, though it was then too late to mend
+it. To do so we would have had to take out the under-deck cargo again.
+So I just whittled out a six-inch wooden plug, fastened it to the end
+of the boat hook, ran it down the narrow space through which the
+broken pipe led, found the vent, hammered the plug home, stopped the
+leak, pumped out the well, finished taking on cargo and sailed for
+Sobre Vista."
+
+"A small leak will sink a great ship," Cappy Ricks murmured. "I think
+I anticipate the blow-off, Mike; but proceed."
+
+"Unfortunately for us that cargo of lumber we had was for the Peruvian
+government. They were going to use it in the construction of barracks
+or a new customhouse or something--and Joey knew this. And he knew
+about that plug. So the minute my back was turned he pulled out the
+plug and the water came in and trickled all through the cargo and the
+ship commenced to settle. But Joey didn't care. He knew a little salt
+water couldn't hurt the lumber. When the top of the _Tyee's_ rail was
+flush with the water he plugged the hole again, got his crew busy with
+the pumps, and by judiciously plugging and unplugging that leak he
+kept the crew pumping all day and all night without raising the vessel
+an inch, and the people ashore could see the streams of water
+cascading overside and the crew pumping like mad. And presently Joey
+gave up, went ashore, sought the captain of the port and put up a hard
+luck story about a leak in his ship--a leak he couldn't find
+anywhere--a leak that was getting away from him, because his men were
+too exhausted to do any more pumping. And he said his ship would get
+water-logged and settle until the surf began to break over her. And
+presently the deck lashings would part under the battering of the surf
+and the deck load would go by the board. Half of it would drift out to
+sea, and the other half would pound on the beach and get filled with
+sand, which would dull the saws and planes of the carpenters when they
+came to cut it up. Also, the ship's cabin would be sure to go, and
+unless he had help he would have to abandon the vessel and she would
+lie there, submerged, at anchor, a menace to the navigation of the
+port."
+
+"The scoundrel! The in-fer-nal young scoundrel!" cried Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Well, he got away with it, sir. Remember our cargo was for the
+Peruvian government and they'd had the devil's own time getting it;
+consequently they couldn't afford to lose any part of it and have
+their anchorage ground menaced by a derelict. So the captain of the
+port took it up with the commandant of the local garrison, and the
+commandant, as Joey expressed it, heard the Macedonian cry and got
+busy. He commandeered all the lighters the other schooners were using;
+the soldiers rounded up the _cargadores_ at the point of the bayonet,
+and they started discharging the American schooner _Tyee_, with the
+spiggoty soldiers swelling Joey's crew at the pumps and Joey doing
+business with that wooden plug according to the requirements.
+Fortunately there weren't any surf days that week, and the way the
+cargo poured out of the _Tyee_ was a shame and a disgrace. And when it
+was all out Joey plugged the leak again, pumped out the ship, and
+wired me at Mollendo to hurry back with the ladies or he'd sail
+without me. So you can see for yourself, Mr. Ricks, it was a hard hand
+to beat. And his luck held. He cracked on all the way home and, as you
+know, sir, the _Tyee_ is fast in a breeze of wind, and you told me not
+to interfere unless he asked me to."
+
+Despite his disappointment Cappy Ricks lay back in his chair and
+laughed until he wept.
+
+"Oh, Mike," he declared, "it's worth twenty-five thousand dollars to
+know a boy who can pull one like that. What do you think of him,
+anyhow?"
+
+"He'll do. His father has spoiled him, but not altogether.  I think a
+heap of him, sir. Remember I've been shipmates with him a trifle over
+four months, and that's a pretty good test."
+
+"Very well, Mike. I forgive you, my boy. I hope Miss Murphy enjoyed
+the trip. Tell her--"
+
+The door opened and Joey Gurney, accompanied by Miss Doris Kenyon
+entered unannounced.
+
+"Hello, godfather," yelled Joey joyously. He jerked the old man out of
+his chair and hugged him. "I'm back with your schooner, sir. She was
+easy to navigate, but that was a cold deck you handed me in Sobre
+Vista--"
+
+"Glad to see you, Joey, glad to see you," Cappy interrupted.  "Ah, and
+here's my little secretary again. Miss Kenyon, this is a pleasure--"
+
+"Mr. Ricks," Joey interrupted him, "the lady's name is no longer Miss
+Kenyon. She is now Mrs. Joseph K. Gurney, Junior. The minute we got
+ashore at Meiggs' wharf and could shake the Murphys, who stood out
+till the last for a church wedding, we chartered a taxicab, went up to
+the City Hall, procured a license, rounded up a preacher--and got
+married. What do you know about that?"
+
+"You're as fast as a second-story worker, Joey. I shall kiss the
+bride." And Cappy did. Then he sat down and stared at the fruit of his
+cunning labors.
+
+"Well, well, well!" cried Joey. "Kick in, godfather, kick in. You owe
+me twenty-five thousand dollars, and if I'm going to support a wife
+I'll need it."
+
+Cappy summoned Mr. Skinner, who felicitated the happy pair and
+departed pursuant to Cappy's order, to make out a check for Joey.
+
+"And now," said Cappy, as he handed the groom his winnings, "you get
+out of here with your bride, Joey, and I'll telephone Florry and we'll
+organize a wedding supper. And to-morrow morning, Joey, I'd like to
+see you at ten o'clock, if you can manage to be here."
+
+Joey promised, and hastened away with his bride.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+
+
+
+True to his word he presented himself in Cappy's lair promptly at ten
+next morning. The old gentleman was sitting rigidly erect on the
+extreme edge of his chair; in his hand he held a typewritten statement
+with a column of figures on it, and he eyed Joey very appraisingly
+over the rims of his spectacles.
+
+"My boy," he said solemnly, "sit down. I'm awfully glad you cabled
+that hula-hula girl of yours in Reno that the stuff was all off."
+
+Joey's mouth flew open.
+
+"Why--why, how did you know?" he gasped.
+
+"I know everything, Joey. I'm that kind of an old man."
+
+Joey paled.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks," he pleaded, "for heaven's sake don't let a whisper of
+that affair reach my wife." He wrung his hands. "I told her she was
+the only girl I had ever loved--that I'd never been engaged
+before--that I--oh, godfather, if she ever discovers I've lied to
+her--"
+
+"She'll not discover it. Compose yourself, Joey. I've seen to all
+that. I knew you'd give Doris the same old song and dance; everybody's
+doing it, you know, so I took pains to see to it that you'll never
+have to eat your words."
+
+"I must have been crazy to engage myself to that woman," Joey wailed.
+"I don't know why I did it--I don't know how it happened--Oh, Mr.
+Ricks, please believe me!"
+
+"I do, Joey, I do. I understand perfectly, because at the tender age
+of twenty-four I proposed marriage to a snake-charmer lady in the old
+Eden Musee. She was forty years old if she was a day, but she carried
+her years well and hid the wrinkles with putty, or something. Barring
+a slight hare-lip, she was a fairly handsome woman--in the dark." He
+reached into a compartment of his desk and drew forth a package of
+letters tied with red ribbon. "You can have these, Joey," he
+announced; "only I shouldn't advise keeping them where your wife may
+find them. They are your letters to your Honolulu lady."
+
+Joey let out a bleat of pure ecstacy and seized them.
+
+"You haven't read them, sir, have you?" he queried, blushing
+desperately.
+
+"Oh, yes, my boy. I had to, you know, because I was buying something
+and I wanted to make certain I got value received. Pretty gooey stuff,
+Joey! Read aloud, they sound like a cow's hoof settling into a wet
+meadow!"
+
+"I'm so glad she took it sensibly," Joey announced, for he was anxious
+to change the topic of conversation. "I suppose she saw it was the
+only way."
+
+"No, she didn't, my son. Don't flatter yourself. On your way out West
+to join the _Tyee_ you wrote her every day on the train. You told her
+about your bet with me, and who I was and all about me. Lucky for you
+that you did, and doubly lucky for you that you cabled her the jilt
+from Sobre Vista, or she would not have come to me with her troubles.
+Joey, that must have taken courage on your part. It's mighty hard for
+a gentleman to cable a lady and break an engagement. That's the lady's
+privilege, Joey."
+
+"I--I was desperate, Mr. Ricks. I had to. I had to have her out of the
+way by the time I got back, or Doris might have found it out. You see,
+I wanted to clear the atmosphere."
+
+"Well, you clouded it for fair! You see, Joey, in all those letters it
+appears that you never once mentioned the words marriage or
+engagement. But your cablegram was an admission that an engagement
+existed, and the lady was smart enough to realize that. It appears
+also that about a week after you cleared for Sobre Vista her annoying
+husband was killed by a taxicab in New York, so that saved her any
+divorce proceedings; and when your cablegram reached her she was a
+single lady who had been heartlessly jilted. The first thing she did
+was to hire a lawyer, and the first person that lawyer called on was
+Alden P. Ricks, the old family friend. It appears a suit for breach of
+promise was to be instituted unless a fairly satisfactory financial
+settlement could be arrived at."
+
+"How much did she want?" Joey barely whispered the words.
+
+"Only a million."
+
+"How much did you settle for? I'll pay it out of my inheritance, Mr.
+Ricks. Don't worry! I won't see you stuck, for you've stood by me
+through thick and thin."
+
+"Why, I didn't give her anything, Joey. I just had her lawyer bring
+her on to San Francisco for a conference. Of course when lunch time
+came round and I hadn't heard any proposition I felt I could submit to
+your father, I invited Miss Fontaine and her lawyer to luncheon with
+me in the Palace Hotel Grill, and while we were lunching, who should
+come up and greet me but my old friend, the Duke of Killiekrankie,
+formerly Duncan MacGregor, first mate of our barkentine _Retriever_.
+Mac is an excellent fellow and for some time I had felt he merited
+promotion. So I made him a duke.
+
+"Well, the duke was awfully glad to see me, and being a gentleman I
+couldn't do less than introduce him to the lady and her lawyer. He
+only stayed at our table a minute and then rejoined his friends, but
+all during the meal I could see Betsy Jane's mind wasn't on her
+breach-of-promise suit. She asked me several questions about the duke,
+and I told her I didn't know much about him except that he was
+sinfully rich and a globe-trotter, and that we'd met in Paris. Lies,
+Joey, but pardonable, I hope, under the circumstances.
+
+"Well, Joey, it seems that she and the duke were registered at the
+same hotel and I'll be shot if his lordship didn't meet her--by
+accident, of course--in the lobby that afternoon. He lifted his hat
+and she smiled and they had a chat. The next day she cut an engagement
+with her lawyer and me to go motoring with the duke in my French car,
+and Florry's chauffeur driving, for, of course, the duke was an
+expensive luxury and I was trying to save a dollar wherever possible.
+That night the duke gave a dinner party in honor of the lady--and he
+gave it aboard his yacht, the _Doris_, formerly the _Seafarer_, right
+out here in San Francisco harbor--"
+
+Joey went up and put his arm round Cappy's shoulders.
+
+"Oh, Cappy Ricks, Cappy Ricks!" he cried, and then his voice broke and
+his eyes filled with tears.
+
+"Yes," Cappy continued, "I had sort o' suspected she might pull that
+breach-of-promise stuff on you, Joey--"
+
+"What made you suspect it?"
+
+"Why, I sort of suspected you were going to marry Doris Kenyon--"
+
+"You planned to get us together on the same ship--!"
+
+"Only place I could think of where you were safe from the Honolulu
+lady and couldn't run away from Doris, Joey. Well, as I say, I had
+sort of suspected she might sue you and disgrace you and break the
+heart of that little girl I'd picked out for you long before you ever
+met her--so I started to get there first and with the heaviest guns, I
+borrowed your yacht for the duke and had him sail her round himself,
+so he'd have her here to give the dinner party on. Then I got a
+Burke's peerage and told MacGregor who he was and had him study up on
+his family history and get acquainted with his sister, Lady Mary, and
+his younger brother, the Honorable Cecil Something-or-other--in
+particular he was not to forget to rave about the grouse shooting in
+Scotland."
+
+Cappy paused and puffed his cigar meditatively for half a minute.
+
+"Joey," he continued, "any time you run a bluff, run a good one. If
+you're starring a globe-trotting duke, have his ancestry all
+straightened out in advance, because he's bound to break into the
+newspapers and the motto of the newspaper editor is 'Show me.' And the
+yacht--just one of the props of the comedy, Joey; and with a little
+cockney steward in livery to say 'Your ludship'; and the name of the
+yacht changed in case she'd ever heard you speak about the _Seafarer;_
+and the cabin done over in white enamel with mahogany trim; and a new
+set of dishes with your family crest and the name of the yacht on
+every piece in case you had ever had her aboard; and a private
+secretary--borrowed him from my general manager, Skinner, by the
+way--we were certainly there when it came to throwing the ducal front.
+And we got away with it, for MacGregor's accent is just Scotchy
+enough, and he comes of good family and has excellent manners. Yes, I
+must say Mac made a very comfortable duke. Skinner's young man tells
+me it would bring tears of joy to your eyes to see him kiss the lady's
+hand.
+
+"Well, Joey, the upshot of it was that after paying violent court to
+the lady for two weeks--Mac said he could have pulled the stunt the
+night of the dinner, for she fell for the title right way, but I told
+him to make haste slowly--the duke received a cablegram calling him
+home from his furlough. Oh, yes, Joey, I had him in the army. Any
+young unattached duke that doesn't join the British army these days
+doesn't get by in good society, and I had my duke on a six months'
+furlough to recover from his wounds. Fortunately a bunch of cedar
+shingles had fallen on Mac's foot recently and he was dog lame, which
+strengthened the play.
+
+"Of course the duke was up in the air right away.  In a passionate
+scene he confessed his love for that damsel of yours, Joey, and laid
+his dukedom at her feet. Would she marry him P. D. Q. and help him
+sail the yacht home? Would she? 'Oh, darling, this is so sudden!' she
+cried, and almost swooned in his arms. From a cabaret to a dukedom.
+Some jump! Sail the yacht home to England through the mine fields and
+submarines? Perfectly ripping, by Jove! I give you my word, Joey, she
+tacked on one of those New York British accents for the duke's special
+benefit. There was a lot of beam to her _a_'s, Mac told me, but blamed
+little molded depth to her mentality. So they were married in haste,
+and after the duke had seen his bride in the elevator bound for their
+rooms at the hotel, he excused himself to get a highball. And I guess
+he got the highball, because I find it in this expense account he
+turned in to me."
+
+"It sounds like a fairy tale," Joey murmured in an awed voice. "What
+did the duke do next?"
+
+"Came right down to this office and informed me he was, plumb weary of
+the life of a bon vivant and was anxious to get to sea again. So I
+made him master of a new steamer we acquired recently, and he's gone
+out to Vladivostok with munitions for the Russians."
+
+"But didn't you give him some money, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"No. Why should I? Didn't I give him command of a steamer? You can
+slip him a fat check if you feel that way about it, but I never coddle
+my skippers, Joey, until I'm sure they're worth while. I think,
+however, that Mac will make good. He's very thorough."
+
+"Wha--what became of Ernestine?"
+
+"Oh, by Godfrey, that's a sad story, Joey. It seems she waited at the
+hotel for the duke to come back and he didn't come, so the following
+morning she went down to the water front looking for the yacht--and
+the yacht was gone. During the night I'd had it towed over to
+Sausalito; consequently the launchman she hired couldn't find it down
+in Mission Bay, and back to the beach she came. After a couple of days
+had passed, however, she commenced to smell a rat, so she came down to
+my office and asked me if I'd seen anything of the duke.
+
+"'Why, yes, I have,' I told her. 'The old duke came in here yesterday
+afternoon, soused to the guards, and complaining he'd been cruelly
+deceived into marrying a two-time loser with a couple of youngsters,
+and inasmuch as he was certain the family wouldn't receive her he was
+leaving the United States immediately, never to return.
+
+"'And this morning the justice of the peace who performed the ceremony
+mailed him the license, which has been duly recorded in the office of
+the Secretary of State in accordance with law; and inasmuch as the
+license was sent to him in my care I am holding it in our safe until
+he calls for it.'
+
+"Well, Joey, she looked at me and she knew the stuff was all off.
+She'd married the duke; I had the license to prove it, and of course
+she realized her breach of promise suit and claim for a million
+dollars' worth of heart balm would be laughed out of court if she had
+the crust to present it. So she did the next best thing. She abused me
+like a pickpocket and ended up by getting hysterical when I told her
+how I'd swindled her. When she got through crying I lectured her on
+the error of her ways and suggested that inasmuch as she had had one
+divorce already, another wouldn't be much of a strain on her, and I'd
+foot the bill for separating her legally from John Doe, alias the
+duke, on a charge of desertion. Then I offered her a thousand dollars
+and a ticket back to New York for the surrender of all your letters to
+her and that infernal cablegram and a release of all claims against
+you. I guess she was broke for she grabbed it in a hurry, Joey. The
+atmosphere is now clear, my son, and nothing further remains to be
+done in the premises, save settle the bill of expense. Fortunately the
+_Tyee_ made money on that fast voyage under your command, but the cost
+of bringing the yacht round from New York, doing over the cabin,
+buying the new dishes with the crest, and settling with the lady
+should rightfully be borne by you. As I say, the duke was expensive,
+for the rascal certainly rolled 'em high. Skinner has made me up a
+statement of the total cost, with interest at six per cent to date,
+and it appears, Joey, that you owe your godfather $12,143.18. On the
+day you come into your inheritance, add six per cent to that sum and
+send me a check."
+
+"But the twenty-five thousand dollars I won from you--" Joey began,
+but Cappy held up a rigid finger, enjoining silence.
+
+"I am going to stick your dub of a father for that, as a penance for
+his sins of omission, Joey; for by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if ever
+a boy won a bet and was entitled to it, you're that young man.
+In-fer-nal young scoundrel! Keep it and split fifty-fifty with your
+wife. You won a straight bet from a crooked gambler, and if I haven't
+had a million dollars' worth of fun out of this transaction I hope I
+may marry a hula-hula woman--and I've passed my three score and ten
+and ought to know better!"
+
+"But about this man MacGregor--"
+
+"Don't worry about him. The Scotch are a hardy race and Mac is a
+sailor. Joey, I know sailors. The scoundrels have a wife in every
+port!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+
+
+
+During the period when Joey Gurney was busy doing all that Cappy Ricks
+desired him to do and some things that were slightly off Cappy's
+program, the president emeritus of the Blue Star Navigation Company
+and allied interests was discovering that it is one thing to declare
+for the simple life and quite another to live it. The Great War
+challenged so much of the Ricks interest that he could not bear to
+live far from morning and evening editions--and he wanted them red hot
+off the presses. Things were doing in the shipping world. The most
+inconceivable trades were being consummated daily, freights were
+soaring, lumber prices had reached an unprecedentedly high level and
+promised to go higher; there was something doing every minute and not
+enough minutes in a working day to accommodate half of these
+somethings. What more natural, therefore, than that Cappy presently
+should find himself caught in the maelstrom, even though he told
+himself daily that, come what might _he_ would keep out of it.
+
+The first indefinite evidence that he was about to be engulfed came in
+the form of a newspaper story, ex the steamer _Timaru_, from Sydney,
+via Tahiti. There it was, as big as a church--a paragraph of it,
+tucked away in a column-and-a-half story of the bombardment of Papeete
+by the German Pacific fleet early in September of 1914:
+
+"An incident of the bombardment was the sinking of the German freight
+steamer _Valkyrie_ by shells from the German fleet. The vessel had
+been captured by the French gunboat _Zeile_ some weeks previous and
+was at anchor in the harbor, under the guns of the _Zeile_, when the
+German squadron appeared off the entrance. The gunboat immediately was
+made the target for the German guns, and sunk. During the attack,
+however, a wild shell missed the _Zeile_ and struck the _Valkyrie_,
+tearing a great hole in her hull and causing her to sink in ten
+fathoms at her anchorage."
+
+Ten fathoms! Sixty feet! Why, at that depth Cappy should have known
+that her masts and funnel would be above water; that in all
+probability she carried war-risk insurance; that she was so far from
+anywhere the underwriters would have abandoned her, even had she not
+been a prize of war, since there are no appliances in Papeete for
+salving a vessel of her size; that she could be raised if one cared to
+spend a little money on doing it; that one projectile probably had not
+ruined her beyond repair; that she was a menace to navigation in
+Papeete Harbor and hence would have to be gotten out of the way,
+either by dynamite or auction; that--well, any number of thats should
+have occurred to Cappy Ricks to suggest the advisability of keeping
+track of the wreck of the _Valkyrie_. However, for some mysterious
+reasons--his resentment against the German cause, probably--the golden
+prospect never appealed to him, for when he had finished reading the
+article he merely said:
+
+"Well, what do you know about that? Skinner, it's a mighty lucky thing
+for that German admiral that I'm not the Kaiser, for I'd certainly
+make him hard to catch. The idea of sinking that fine steamer--and a
+German steamer at that! Here was the little old French gunboat, about
+as invulnerable as a red-cedar shingle; and instead of moving into
+proper position and raking her with their light guns--instead of
+calling on her to surrender--these Germans had to go to work in a
+hurry and inaugurate a campaign of frightfulness. The minute they were
+off the harbor--Zowie! Blooey! Bam! It was all over but the cheering,
+and they'd chucked an eight-inch projectile through a ship that was
+worth four of the gunboat.
+
+"Skinner, that's what I call spilling the beans. Why they didn't take
+their time, recapture that freighter and give her skipper a chance to
+hustle across to San Francisco or Honolulu and intern, is a mystery to
+me. The idea! Why, for that German fleet to waste ammunition on that
+Jim-Crow town and a hand-me-down gunboat was equivalent to John L.
+Sullivan whittling out a handle on a piece of two-by-four common fir
+in order to attack a cockroach!"
+
+Cappy was so incensed that he growled about the Germans for an hour.
+Then he forgot the _Valkyrie_, notwithstanding the fact that the press
+jogged his memory again when the German fleet, deciding that prudence
+was the better part of valor, fled from the Pacific to escape the
+Japanese, only to be destroyed in the South Atlantic by the British
+fleet. A resume of the operations of the German squadron in the
+Pacific brought forth mention of the destruction of the _Zeile_ and
+the _Valkyrie_. However, Cappy's mind was not in Tahiti now, but off
+the Falkland Islands, for he was very much pro-Ally and devoted more
+thought to military and naval strategy than he did to the lumber and
+shipping business.
+
+However, the climax of Cappy's indignation over the disaster to the
+_Valkyrie_ was not attained until a few months later when, in
+conversation on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange with the skipper
+of the schooner _Tarus_, who happened to have been in Papeete at the
+bombardment, he learned he had done the German admiral a grave
+injustice. He came back to his office, boiling, declaring the French
+were a crazy nation, and that, after all, he could recall meeting one
+or two fine Germans during the course of a fairly busy career. He
+summoned Mr. Skinner and Matt Peasley to hear the sordid tale.
+
+"Remember that steamer _Valkyrie_ the Germans were supposed to have
+sunk by accident in the harbor of Papeete during the bombardment in
+September of 1914?" he queried.
+
+"I believe I read something about it in the papers at the time," Mr.
+Skinner replied.
+
+"What about her?" Matt Peasley demanded.
+
+"Why, the Germans didn't sink her at all, Matt!  The Frenchmen did
+it," Cappy shrilled. "The crazy, frog-eating jumping-jacks of
+Frenchmen! The tramp wasn't flying the German flag--naturally the
+Frenchmen had hauled it down; so the Germans didn't investigate her.
+Besides, they were in a hurry--you'll remember the Japs were on their
+trail at the time; so they just devoted forty minutes to shooting up
+the town, and beat it. I don't suppose they ever knew they hit the
+_Valkyrie_; perhaps they figured that, having sunk the gunboat, the
+_Valkyrie_ could up hook and away at her leisure, since there was
+nothing left to prevent her.
+
+"Huh! Makes me sick to talk about it; but the skipper of the _Taurus_
+was there at the time and he tells me that, though the _Valkyrie_ was
+pretty well down by the stern, her bulkheads were holding and she
+wouldn't have sunk if those blamed Frenchmen, fearful that the German
+fleet was coming back after her, hadn't gone aboard and opened her sea
+cocks! Yes, sir. Rather than risk having her recaptured, they opened
+her sea cocks and sunk her! And, at that, they didn't have sense
+enough to run her out to deep water. No! They had to do the trick as
+she lay at anchor; and there she lies still, a menace to navigation
+and a perennial reminder to those Papeete Frenchmen that he who acts
+in haste will repent at leisure."
+
+To this outburst Mr. Skinner made some perfunctory remark, attributing
+the situation to a lack of efficiency, while Matt Peasley went back to
+his office and grieved as he reflected on the corrosive action of salt
+water on those fine, seven-year-old engines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+
+
+
+Time passed. Mr. Skinner developed a pallor and irritability that
+bespoke all too truly an attack of nerves, from overwork, and sore
+against his will was hustled off to Honolulu for a rest while Cappy
+Ricks had the audacity to take charge of the lumber business.
+Whereupon Mr. J. Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company,
+discovered the unprotected condition of the Ricks Lumber & Logging
+Company and promptly, in sheer wanton deviltry, proceeded to sew Cappy
+Ricks up on an order for a million grape stakes.
+
+A word here regarding the said J. Augustus Redell.  He was a blithe,
+joyous creature, still in the sunny thirties, and what he didn't know
+about the lumber business--particularly the marketing of lumber
+products--could be tucked into anybody's eyes without impairing their
+eyesight. Mr. Redell had fought his way up from office boy with the
+Black Butte Lumber Company to lumber broker with offices of his own.
+He had owned a retail yard in which business he had gone "bust" for
+more money than the world appeared to contain. But he had fought his
+way back and paid a hundred cents on the dollar, including some
+hundred and forty thousand dollars he had owed the Ricks mills at the
+time of his collapse. Because he was young and fine and good-natured
+and brave and brilliant, Cappy had always admired J. Augustus Redell,
+but after the latter had so splendidly re-established his credit and
+formed a partnership with a Peruvian gentleman, one Senor Luiz
+Almeida, known locally as Live Wire Luiz, Cappy found that he had for
+the genial J. Augustus an admiration that amounted to affection. The
+West Coast Trading Company, under which title Live Wire Luiz and J.
+Augustus Redell did a lumber brokerage business with Mexico, Central
+American and South American countries principally, had Cappy Ricks'
+entire confidence, although he would have died rather than admit this.
+Live Wire Luiz he ignored and always dismissed as a factor in the
+affairs of that company, but whenever Redell had a deal on that was
+too heavy for his financial sinews, Cappy could always be depended
+upon to lend a helping hand. On his part, Redell revered Cappy Ricks
+as only an idealistic and naturally lovable rascal of a boy can revere
+an idealistic and lovable old man. To J. Augustus Redell little, old,
+naive, whimsical, gentle, terrible, brilliant, cunning, generous,
+altruistic, prudent, youthful old Cappy Ricks was a joy forever. With
+the impishness of his tender years, Mr. Redell could conceive of no
+greater joy than picking on Cappy Ricks just to see the latter fight
+back.
+
+Quite early in their friendship, the astute Redell discovered a rift
+in Cappy's armor--two rifts, in fact. The first was that Cappy feared
+and loathed old age and fiercely resented even the most shadowy
+intimation that with age he was, to employ a sporting phrase, "losing
+his punch." The second weakness that lay exposed to Redell was Cappy's
+passion for wringing a profit, by ingenious means, from apparently
+barren soil where no profit had ever hitherto burgeoned. At heart
+Cappy was a speculator; only the fact that he was a prudent and
+careful speculator had conduced to enrich him rather than impoverish
+him.
+
+Now, Cappy was fully convinced, from optical evidence, that J.
+Augustus Redell was a gambler. He admired Redell's genius for
+business, the soundness of his decisions, the alertness of his mind
+and the brilliance of his financial _coups_, but--he deprecated the
+younger man's daring. Cappy called it recklessness. By degrees the old
+gentleman had come to assume a proprietary interest in Gus Redell and
+the latter's affairs, for the younger man frequently sought counsel
+from Cappy and not infrequently, a loan! Cappy knew his young friend
+to be the soul of manly honor, but--he was young! Ah, yes! He was
+young. Ergo, he was foolish. True, his foolishness had not as yet been
+discovered, but Cappy was certain it would come to the surface sooner
+or later. The boy was reckless--a gambler. Cappy abhorred gambling. He
+never gambled. Occasionally he speculated! What more natural,
+therefore, than that little Cappy should presently arrogate to himself
+the privilege of stabbing young J. Augustus to the vitals from time to
+time, just to impress upon the boy the knowledge that this is a hard,
+cold, cruel world with a great many bad men in it!
+
+Nothing could possibly have delighted Redell more.  Whenever Cappy
+stabbed him, forthwith he set about to stab Cappy in return, and thus
+had developed a joyous business feud. These best of friends spent an
+hour and a half daily, at luncheon, "picking" on each other, telling
+tales on each other, eternally "joshing" for the edification of a
+coterie of their lumber and shipping friends who always lunched in a
+private dining room at the Commercial Club and who were known within
+that organization as the Bilgewater Club.
+
+Early in 1915 Redell had seen an opportunity for inducing Cappy Ricks
+to speculate in grape stakes--to his financial hurt and humiliation.
+There was to be an election that fall--a special election to see
+whether California should "go dry" or "stay wet," and for some reason
+not quite apparent to Mr. Redell, a great many people believed the
+state would "go dry." Among the people who so believed, Redell
+discovered, were the woodsmen who, during the winter of 1914, would,
+under normal conditions, have split from redwood trees sufficient
+grape stakes to support such new vineyards as would come into bearing
+in the fall of 1915. Fearing that there would be no market for their
+grape stakes when the making of wine should be prohibited by law,
+these woodsmen had made no effort to supply the demand; wherefore the
+Machiavellian J. Augustus Redell, taking advantage of Mr. Skinner's
+absence from the office of the Ricks mills, cleverly managed to
+inculcate in Cappy Ricks the idea that it would be a splendid and
+profitable venture if he, the said Cappy, should wade into the grape
+stake market and corner it. The idea appealed to the speculative part
+of the old gentleman's nature and he had gone to work in a hurry, only
+to discover, after he had accepted orders from the West Coast Trading
+Company for a great many carloads of grape stakes for future delivery,
+that, when the day of reckoning should come, he would not be enabled
+to pick up enough grape stakes to fill his orders, for the very
+sufficient reason that nobody had manufactured grape stakes for that
+year's market, and they were not available at any price!
+
+It had been a cruel blow and Cappy's weakness had been exposed without
+mercy to the members of the Bilgewater Club by Mr. Redell, who
+thereafter kept both eyes wide open, knowing that sooner or later
+Cappy would retaliate.
+
+Retaliation was, of course, inevitable. Cappy realized  this. For the
+first time in his career as a lumber and shipping king the sly old dog
+realized he had been out-thought, out-played, out-gamed and
+man-handled by a mere pup. And, though he had taken his beating like
+the rare old sport that he was, nevertheless the leaves of memory had
+a horrible habit of making a most melancholy rustling; and for two
+weeks, following his ignominious rout at the hands of J. Augustus
+Redell, Cappy's days and nights were entirely devoted to scheming ways
+and means of vengeance. Curiously enough, it was the West Coast
+Trading Company that accorded him the opportunity he craved.
+
+Having massacred Cappy in the grape-stake deal and established an
+unlimited credit thereby, the West Coast Lumber Company, per Senor
+Felipe Luiz Almeida, alias Live Wire Luiz, decided to purchase a
+little jag of spruce from the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company. Cappy
+Ricks looked at the proffered order, saw that it called for number one
+clear spruce, and promptly accepted it at a dollar under the market.
+He was to bring the spruce in to San Francisco on one of his own
+schooners, lay her alongside the _City of Panama_ and discharge it
+into her, for delivery at Salina Cruz, Mexico.
+
+Cappy knew, of course, that Live Wire Luiz handled exclusively the
+West Coast Trading Company's Mexican, Central and South American
+business. He knew, also, that there were many points about the lumber
+business that the explosive little Peruvian had still to learn; so he
+decided to stab the West Coast Trading Company, through the innocent
+and trusting Senor Almeida, with a weapon he would not have dreamed of
+employing had J. Augustus Redell placed the order. Live Wire Luiz knew
+the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company always sold its output on mill
+tally and inspection; that Cappy Ricks' grading rules were much fairer
+to his customers than those of his competitors; that when he
+contracted to deliver number one clear spruce he would deliver exactly
+that and challenge anybody to pick a number two board out of the lot.
+But what Live Wire Luiz did not know was that there are two kinds of
+number one spruce on the Pacific Coast. One grows in California and
+the other in Oregon and Washington--and Cappy Ricks had both kinds for
+sale.
+
+"Aha!" Cappy murmured as he glanced over Live Wire Luiz's order after
+the latter had gone. "Number one clear spruce, eh? All right, sir!
+Away down in my wicked heart I know you want some nice number one
+stock from our Washington mill, at Port Hadlock; but unfortunately you
+have failed to stipulate it--so we'll slip you a little of the
+California product and teach you something you ought to know."
+
+Whereupon Cappy sent the order to his mill on Humboldt Bay,
+California. Though this plant manufactured redwood lumber almost
+exclusively, whenever the woods boss came across a nice spruce or
+bull-pine tree among the redwood he was wont to send it down to the
+mill, where it was sawed and set aside for trusting individuals like
+Live Wire Luiz. When seasoned this spruce was very good stock.
+Unfortunately, however, experts differ in their diagnosis of
+California spruce. There are those who will tell you it is not spruce,
+but a bastard fir; while others will tell you it is not fir, but a
+bastard spruce. Cappy Ricks had no definite ideas on the subject, for
+he didn't own enough of that kind of stumpage to grieve him. All he
+knew or cared was that when such outlawed stock was billed as spruce
+no judge or jury in the land could say it was fir; also, that in its
+green state it possessed an abominable odor!
+
+The lumber was delivered to the _City of Panama_ in due course and, as
+Cappy had suspected, Live Wire Luiz failed to come down to her dock
+and take a smell. This was a privilege left intact for the consignee
+at Salina Cruz; and he, according to Mexican custom, which only
+demands a ghost of an excuse to seek a rebate, promptly wired a
+protest and declared himself swindled to the extent of five dollars a
+thousand feet, gold.
+
+Also, having been similarly outraged once before, he demanded to know
+why he had been sent California spruce; whereupon Live Wire Luiz
+called up Cappy Ricks, abused him roundly and sent him a bill for six
+dollars a thousand, rebate! Unfortunately for the West Coast Trading
+Company, however, it had already discounted Cappy's invoice; so the
+latter could afford to stand pat--which he did.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+
+
+
+Shortly after noon on the day of his small triumph over the West Coast
+Trading Company, Cappy Ricks bustled up California Street, bound for
+luncheon with the Bilgewater Club.
+
+On this day, of all days, Cappy would not have missed luncheon with
+the Bilgewater Club for a farm. As he breezed along there was a smile
+on his ruddy old face and a lilt in his kind old heart, for he was
+rehearsing his announcement to his youthful friends of how he had but
+recently tanned the hide of a brother! He almost laughed aloud as he
+pictured himself solemnly relating, in the presence of J. Augustus
+Redell and Live Wire Luiz, the tale of the ill-favored spruce,
+excusing his own mendacity the while on the ground that he wasn't a
+mind reader; that if the West Coast Lumber Company desired northern
+spruce they should have stipulated northern spruce; that, as alleged
+business men, it was high time they were made aware of the ancient
+principle of _caveat emptor_, which means, as every schoolboy knows,
+that the buyer must protect himself in the clinches and breakaways.
+And lastly, he planned to claim it the solemn duty of the aged to
+instruct the young and ignorant in the hard school of experience.
+
+Judge, therefore, of his disappointment when, on entering the lobby of
+the Merchants' Exchange Building, on the two top floors of which the
+Commercial Club is situated, he encountered Redell and Live Wire Luiz
+leaving the elevator.
+
+The West Coast Trading Company had offices in the same building and,
+as Redell carried a plethoric suit case, while Live Wire Luiz followed
+with a small hand bag, Cappy realized they were bound for parts
+unknown. In consequence of which he realized he had rehearsed to no
+purpose his expose of the pair before the Bilgewater Club. He halted
+the partners and secured a firm grip on the lapel of each.
+
+"Cowards!" he sneered. "Running out on me, eh?  By Judas Priest, I
+just knew you didn't dast to stay and hear me tell the boys about that
+spruce. Drat you! The next time you'll know the difference between
+attar of roses and California spruce!"
+
+Redell put down his suit case, pulled out his watch, glanced at it and
+then at his partner.
+
+"Shall I tell him, Luiz?" he queried.
+
+Live Wire Luiz thereupon consulted his watch, scratched his ear and
+said:
+
+"Friend of my heart, do you theenk eet ees safe?"
+
+"Oh, yes. He isn't a bit dangerous, Luiz. He's lost all his teeth and
+all he can do now is sit and bay at the moon."
+
+Live Wire Luiz shrugged.
+
+"I theenk maybe so you are right, _amigo mio_. The steamer she will go
+to depart in half an hour, an' that ees not time for thees ol'
+high-binder to do somet'ing. Eet ees what you call one stiff li'l'
+order. I admit thees spruce bandit ees pretty smart, but--" again Live
+Wire Luiz shrugged his expressive shoulders--"he ees pretty ol', no? I
+theenk to myself he have lose--what you call heem? ah, yes, he have
+lose hees punch!"
+
+"I fear he has, Luiz; so I'll tell him. At least the knowledge will
+gravel him and take all the joy out of that stinking little spruce
+swindle of his."
+
+"'Twon't neither!" Gappy challenged. "I stung you there--drat your
+picture!--and I'm glad I did it. I rejoice in my wickedness. Cost you
+five hundred dollars for making a monkey out of the old man in that
+grape-stake deal, Gus."
+
+"Why," said Redell wonderingly, "I thought you'd forgiven me that,
+Cappy."
+
+"So I have; but I haven't forgotten. Expect me to lose my self-
+respect and forget about it? No, sir! When I go into a deal and emerge
+in the red, I take a look at my loss-and-gain account and forget it;
+but when I'm ravished of my self--respect-wow! Look out below and get
+out from under! In-fer-nal young scoundrel! If I don't show you two
+before I die that I haven't lost my punch I'll come back from the
+grave to ha'nt you. Go on and spin your little tale, Augus-tus. You
+can't tell me anything that'll make me mad. What you got on your mind
+besides your hair, Gus? Out with it, boy; out with it! I'm listening."
+
+And Cappy came close to Redell and inclined his head close to the
+young fellow's breast; whereupon Redell put his lips close to Cappy's
+ear and answered hoarsely:
+
+"I'm going to Papeete to bid in that sunken German steamer,
+_Valkyrie_."
+
+Cappy nodded.
+
+"Huh!" he said. "Is that all? Well, when you return from Papeete
+you're going to take another journey right away."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Into the bankruptcy court first, and then up to the Home for the
+Feeble-Minded. On the level, boy, you're overdue at the foolish farm."
+
+"I'll take a chance, Cappy. All you old graybeards can do is sit on
+the fence and decry the efforts of the rising generation. You just
+croak and knock. Of course I admit that once on a time an opportunity
+couldn't fly by you so fast you wouldn't get some of the tail
+feathers; but that was a long time ago."
+
+He paused and glanced at his partner. Sorrowfully Live Wire Luiz
+tapped his forehead with his brown, cigarette-stained forefinger.
+
+"Senile decay!" Redell murmured.
+
+"Sure; I bet you, Mike!" Live Wire Luiz answered.
+
+He wagged his head lugubriously, turned aside and affected to wipe
+away a vagrant tear with his salmon-colored silk handkerchief.
+
+"Look here!" Cappy rasped. "This thing is getting personal. Never mind
+about my years, you pup. If my back is bent a trifle it's from
+carrying a load of experience and other people's mistakes. And never
+mind about my noodle! It may have a few knots and shakes in it, but
+they're tight and sound, and it's free of pitch pockets, wane and
+rotten streaks; so this old head grades as merchantable timber still.
+
+"As for your head, Gus, and that of this human firecracker with you,
+both have streaks of sap round the edges, and I'll prove it to you
+yet. No; on second thought I don't have to prove it. You've already
+done that yourself! You're going to Papeete to try to bid in the
+_Valkyrie_, and she's junk!"
+
+"Partly." Redell admitted. "She's been under water about two years and
+I suppose the teredo have digested her upper works by now; but they
+can be rebuilt quickly and without a great deal of expense."
+
+"How about her boilers? You'll have to retube them."
+
+"I don't think so. I was talking with Captain Hippard, of the
+Morrison-Hippard Line. They had the steamer _Chinook_ under water a
+year in Norton Sound, but they raised her and brought her to San
+Francisco under her own steam. You know, Cappy, it's the combination
+of water and air that makes iron and steel rust. It seems that when a
+boiler is under water and not exposed to the air it rusts very slowly;
+also, the rust is like a soft film--it doesn't pit and scale off in
+great flakes. And a couple of years under water will not do any
+appreciable damage to the _Valkyrie's_ boilers. The _Chinook_ is
+running yet, notwithstanding the fact that fifteen years ago she was
+submerged for a year."
+
+"Huh!" Cappy grunted.
+
+"The same condition, of course, holds true with regard to her hull,
+only more so," Redell continued. "The paint will protect the hull
+perfectly. Of course if, after getting her up, she is permitted to lie
+exposed to the air, the soft film of rust will promptly harden and
+scale off and she'll go to glory in a few months. However, nothing
+like that will happen, because the minute she's up she'll be
+thoroughly cleaned and scrubbed and painted. Of course the asbestos
+cover will have peeled off her boilers, but even at that I'll bring
+her to San Francisco under her own steam. She'll just be ungodly hot
+below decks and a hog for coal until the boilers are re-covered."
+
+Cappy sighed. He was not prepared to combat this argument, for he had
+a sneaking impression Redell was right. However, he returned undaunted
+to the attack.
+
+"She's shot full of holes," he declared.
+
+"She has one hole through her, and when she's loaded light that hole
+is above water line. The wrecking vessel that goes down to salve her
+will have steel plates, tools and mechanics aboard, and new plates can
+be put in temporarily. And if that cannot be done those holes can be
+patched with planking and cemented over."
+
+"Well, all right. Grant that. But think of her engines, Gus. Think of
+those fine, smooth bearings and polished steel rods all corroded and
+pitted by salt water. The water may not have a disastrous effect on
+the boilers and hull, but an engine can't stand any rust at all and
+still remain one hundred per cent efficient. I tell you I know, Gus. I
+had my _Amelia Ricks_ submerged on Duxbury Reef for a week; then I
+hauled her off and she lay on the tide flats in Mission Bay another
+three weeks until I could patch her up and float her into the dry
+dock. Do you know what it cost me to make her engines over again?
+Thirteen thousand dollars, young man--and, at that, they're nothing to
+brag of now."
+
+"Quite right; but that's because you didn't employ a German engineer
+and tell him you were going to put the _Amelia Ricks_ on Duxbury Reef.
+Are you familiar with the characteristics of German engineers, Cappy?"
+
+Cappy threw up both hands.
+
+"I'm neutral, Gus. Between them and the French it's a case of heads I
+win, tails you lose."
+
+"No, no, Cappy. You're wrong. The Germans are a careful, thrifty,
+painstaking, systematic race, and the chief of the _Valkyrie_ was the
+flower of the flock. When that little French gunboat captured her this
+chief engineer looked into the future and saw himself and the
+_Valkyrie_ interned indefinitely--and he didn't like it. It just broke
+his heart to think of a stranger messing round among his engines; so
+the instant he got into Papeete and blew down his boilers he did a
+wise thing. He knew the war risk insurance would probably cover the
+_Valkyrie's_ loss as a war prize, but there was a chance that her
+German owners might send one of their hyphenated brethren down to
+Papeete to buy her in the prize court; and if that happened the chief
+wanted them to have a good ship. Perhaps, also, he figured on getting
+his old job back after the war. At any rate he got out a barrel of
+fine heavy grease and slobbered up his engines for fair."
+
+It was too much. Cappy Ricks was too fine a sport not to acknowledge a
+beating; he was too generous not to rejoice in a competitor's gain.
+
+"You lucky, lucky scoundrel!" he murmured in an awed voice. "Not
+enough salt water will get through that grease to hurt those engines.
+Gus, how did you find this all out?"
+
+"Well, you can bet your whiskers, Cappy, I didn't depend on hearsay
+evidence and water-front reporters to dig it up for me. The minute I
+heard her sea cocks had been opened and that her funnels and masts
+were sticking up out of the harbor I concluded I was interested; so I
+sent Bill Jinks, of our office, down to Papeete to get me some
+first-hand information. The chief of the _Valkyrie_ is interned there,
+of course."
+
+"May mad dogs bite me! Why in the name of all that's sweet and holy
+didn't I have sense enough to do that?" Cappy mourned.
+
+"You have lose the punch!" chirped Live Wire Luiz, and Cappy glared at
+him.
+
+"She's an honest vessel, Cappy."
+
+"An' what you s'pose she have in her?" Live Wire Luiz demanded. "Oh,
+notheeng very much, Senor Ricks. Just two t'ousand tons of phosphate."
+
+"Worth ten or twelve dollars a ton, Cappy."
+
+"An' t'irteen hundred tons of the good coal to bring her to San
+Francisco, _Ai_, Santa Maria!" Live Wire Luiz blew a kiss airily into
+space and added: "I die weeth dee-light!"
+
+"You haven't got her yet," Cappy snapped viciously.
+
+"No; but we'll get her all right," Redell declared confidently.
+
+"How'll you get her?"
+
+"We've only one real competitor to buck--an Australian  steamship
+company. They're crazy to get her; and as there are no French bidders
+on this side of the world, naturally and in view of the present
+condition of world politics the French authorities in Papeete are
+pulling for the Britisher. Jinks is now in Papeete and I'm about to
+start for there at one o'clock. Two bids, Cappy; I'll be the dark
+horse and file my bid at the last minute, after I've sized up the lay
+of the land. But, before I do so, I'm going to take the representative
+of that Australian steamship company into my confidence and find out
+what he's going to bid. For instance, now, Cappy, if you were bidding
+against me, how high would you go?"
+
+"She's a long way from nowhere," Cappy replied thoughtfully. "It means
+sending a wrecking steamer down there with a lot of expert wreckers,
+divers, mechanics and carpenters; it means lumber for cofferdam and
+pontoons; it means donkey engines, cables, pumps, the stress of wind
+and wave--"
+
+"She lies in a protected cove, Cappy; the mean rise and fall of the
+tide, so close to the equator, is about eighteen inches, and the water
+is so clear you can always see what the divers are doing. Forget the
+stress of wind and wave."
+
+"Forty thousand dollars would be my top figure if I were the
+Australian bidder," Cappy declared, and added to himself: "But, as
+Alden P. Ricks, seventy-five might not stagger me in view of the
+present freight rates."
+
+"Just what I figured," Redell answered. "She'll cost us two hundred
+thousand dollars before we get her in commission again. I figure the
+Australian people will not go over forty thousand dollars. They won't
+figure Jinks as a heavyweight. I told him to create the impression
+that he was a professional wrecker--a sort of fly-by-night junk
+dealer, who would buy the vessel if he could get her at a great
+bargain. Then I'll drop quietly into Papeete, and at the eleventh hour
+fifty-ninth minute I'll slip in a bid that will top the Australian's.
+If by any chance Jinks' bid should also top the Australian's I'll just
+forfeit the certified check for ten per cent of my bid, run out and
+leave the ship to Jinks, the next highest bidder. The chances are I'll
+make a few thousand dollars at that."
+
+"How do you purpose raising her--provided you are the successful
+bidder?"
+
+"Well, she has four hatches and she lies on an even keel. I'll build a
+coffer dam on her deck round these four hatches and pump her out. If
+we have enough pumps we can pump her out faster than the water can
+leak in under the coffer dam. When I've lightened her somewhat I'll
+kick her into the shore, little by little, until she lies in shallow
+water with her bulwarks above the surface. Then I'll patch the holes
+in her, pump her out--and up she'll come, of course."
+
+"You say that so glibly," Gappy growled, "one would almost think you
+could whistle it."
+
+"Don't feel sore, Cappy. Do you know what a vessel of her age and
+class is worth nowadays? Well, I'll tell you. About sixty dollars a
+ton, dead weight capacity--and the _Valkyrie_ can carry seven thousand
+tons; that's four hundred and twenty thousand dollars--"
+
+"If you can get her up," Cappy interrupted.
+
+"If I bid her in I'll get her up. Don't worry."
+
+'"It'll clean you of your bank roll to do it."
+
+"Of course. Luiz and I aren't millionaires like you; so we'll just
+form a corporation and call it the S. S. Valkyrie Company and sell
+stock in our venture. I have you down right now for a
+ten-thousand-dollar subscription at the very least, though you can
+have more if you want it."
+
+"Gus," Cappy pleaded, "if you bid that boat in for forty thousand
+dollars I'll give you ten thousand dollars for your bargain and
+reimburse you for all the expense you've been put to."
+
+"Nothing doing, Cappy."
+
+"I'll make it--let me see--I'll make it twenty thousand."
+
+"You waste your breath. She'll pay for herself the first year she's in
+commission."
+
+"I'll furnish the sinews of war, Gus, for a half  interest in her. Let
+me add her to the Blue Star Fleet and you'll never regret it."
+
+"Sorry, Cappy; but Luiz and I are ambitious. We want to get into the
+steamship business ourselves."
+
+"Well, then, I've offered to do the fair thing by you two lunatics,"
+Cappy declared with a great air of finality. "So now I'll deliver my
+ultimatum: I'm going to keep the _Valkyrie_ and not give you two as
+much as one little piece of her. Yes, sir! I'm going to send a
+representative to Papeete and match you and that Australian chap for
+your shoe-strings. Gus, you know me! If I ever go after a thing and
+don't get it, the man that takes it away from me will know he's been
+in a fight."
+
+"Indeed, I know it, Cappy--which is why I kept this information
+carefully to myself. However, I guess you'll not get in on this good
+thing."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You're too late for the banquet."
+
+"Not one leetle hope ees left for you, Cappy Reeks," Senor Almeida
+asserted. "The _Moana_, on which my good partner have engaged passage
+to-day, ees the last steamer which shall arrive to Papeete before the
+bids shall be open. The next steamer, Capitan Reeks ees arrive too
+late."
+
+"Yes; and the _Moana_ sails in just twenty-five  minutes, Cappy. If
+you're thinking of sending a man down to bid against me you'll have to
+step lively."
+
+Cappy Ricks was now beside himself; this gentle, good-natured heckling
+had made of him a venerable Fury.
+
+"I'll cable my bid!" he shrilled.
+
+"No you won't Cappy, for the reason that there is no cable to Tahiti."
+
+"Then I'll wireless it!"
+
+"Well, you can try that, Cappy. Unfortunately, however, the only
+wireless station in Tahiti is a little, old, one-cat-power set. It can
+receive your message, but it can't send one that will reach the
+nearest wireless station--and that's at Honolulu. And until the bank
+in Tahiti can confirm drafts by wireless I imagine it will not pay
+them on presentation."
+
+Cappy surrendered. He couldn't stand any more.
+
+"Good-bye, Gus," he said. "Good luck to you! If you get that vessel
+you'll deserve her, and when you're forming the S.S. Valkyrie Company
+I'll head the list of stock subscribers with a healthy little chunk.
+You know me, Gus! I'm the old bell mare in shipping circles; a lot of
+others will follow where I lead."
+
+"I forgive you the spruce deal, Cappy. You're an awful pirate; but,
+for all that, you're a grand piece of work. God bless you!" And Redell
+put his arm round the old man affectionately. "Good-bye."
+
+And, followed by Live Wire Luiz, who was going to the dock to see his
+partner aboard the _Moana_, Redell disappeared into California Street.
+
+"Dammit!" Cappy soliloquized bitterly. "I can't eat lunch now. One
+bite would choke me."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+
+
+
+And he turned toward the entrance to the Merchants'  Exchange, being
+minded to enter a telephone booth and notify the Bilgewater Club he
+would not be present that day. As he walked through the gate into the
+Exchange, however, he was accosted by a heavy, florid-faced man
+carrying a thick woolen watch coat over his arm. This individual was
+Captain Aaron Porter, one of the San Francisco bar pilots, and he
+greeted Cappy with a respectful query after the old gentleman's
+health.
+
+"I don't feel very well," Cappy replied wearily. "I'm getting old,
+captain--getting old."
+
+Then he noted the watch coat the pilot was carrying and decided
+subconsciously that there could be no connection between it and the
+sultry August weather prevailing at that moment; consequently it
+informed the observant Cappy, as plainly as if it had a tongue and had
+spoken, that Captain Aaron Porter expected shortly to be exposed to
+the chill northwest winds outside as he piloted a vessel to sea. In
+the manufacture of sheer inane conversation, therefore, Cappy tugged
+the coat and said:
+
+"Going to take a ship out this afternoon, captain?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I'll be responsible for the _Moana_ until we cross the
+Potato Patch--"
+
+"The _Moana!_" Cappy cried, and pulled out his watch. "You'd better
+be stepping lively, then. She sails at one, and you have twenty
+minutes to get to Greenwich Street Pier."
+
+"Oh, there's no hurry, Mr. Ricks. She'll be delayed from half to
+three-quarters of an hour waiting for the Australian mail. The mail
+train from the East is late, and of course the _Moana_ cannot sail
+till--"
+
+"You will pardon me, captain," Cappy Ricks interrupted  politely, "but
+I've just thought of a very important matter. I must run and
+telephone."
+
+As J. Augustus Redell had just pointed out, twenty minutes was
+scarcely ample time in which to decide on the right emissary to send
+to Papeete, get into communication with the said individual and induce
+him to go. In addition, such a person would have to have time to pack
+some clothing; also, to procure a letter of credit at the bank and
+purchase a ticket, not to mention the time requisite to receive his
+instructions and get to the steamer's dock. But with almost an
+hour--well, a wide-awake man can accomplish much in an hour, and Cappy
+Ricks was a natural leader of forlorn hopes. In the brief interval
+required to accomplish the journey from the door of the Merchants'
+Exchange to a telephone booth a flock of bright ideas capered through
+Cappy's ingenious head like goats on a tin roof.
+
+"Main 2000!" he barked, and in five seconds he had the connection.
+"Put Skinner on the line!"
+
+Cappy's own private exchange operator had the temerity to inform him
+that Mr. Skinner was out at luncheon.
+
+"The in-fer-nal scoundrel--just when I need him!  Put Captain Matt
+Peasley on the line, and be quick about it. Matt! Matt, listen! This
+is the old man speaking. Get an earful of what I'm going to tell you
+now, and don't ask any questions--just obey! Do you remember that big
+German freighter--the Valkyrie--sunk in Papeete Harbor?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"She's a prize, Matt. I've just been given a low-down on her
+condition. Gus Redell is leaving on the _Moana_ to bid her in at the
+government sale--the young scoundrel told me all about it and twitted
+me because we were asleep on the job and let the good thing get away
+from us. The _Moana's_ supposed to sail at one o'clock, but the
+Eastern mail is late--she won't get away from the dock until about
+one-thirty; but when she does--"
+
+"When she does we'll have a man aboard her to beat Redell to the
+German steamer," Matt Peasley interrupted. "I've got the message.
+Where are you, father-in-law?"
+
+"At the Merchants' Exchange."
+
+"You attend to the funds and I'll do the rest."
+
+"Confound you!" rasped Cappy Ricks. "You're so headstrong, you'll jam
+things up yet if you don't listen to me."
+
+"But you'll have to send somebody Redell  doesn't know."
+
+"That doesn't matter at all. Now, son, will you listen to me? I'll
+attend to the money and I'll also frame this entire deal. Is Miss
+Keenan in the office--you know--Skinner's stenographer?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"She's been wanting to go on a vacation. When I heard about it I asked
+her how she'd like a cruise to Alaska--remember we have the _Tillicum_
+leaving at six to-night for St. Michael's. She said that would be
+fine; so I gave her a pass and the owner's suite on the _Tillicum_."
+
+"So I hear. Her trunk was sent to the _Tillicum's_ dock this morning
+and she has her suit case in the office. She planned to work today and
+go aboard the _Tillicum_ after office hours."
+
+"Good! Then she's all ready lor a voyage to Tahiti. Have the private
+exchange operator phone our wharf office instantly and tell them to
+load Miss Keenan's trunk on the first wagon handy and rush it over to
+the _Moana_. Give Miss Keenan fifteen hundred dollars and tell her
+she's to go to Papeete. If she kicks about clothes tell her to get
+along with what she has and buy what she needs on arrival."
+
+He waited while Matt Peasley gave the necessary instructions to the
+exchange operator. Then:
+
+"It's all right, sir. Miss Keenan will go. She'll be on her way in
+five minutes. I've told her to go aboard and buy her ticket from the
+purser or from the ticket agent at the gang plank."
+
+"Fine business! Now who else have we in our employ that I can send? I
+want a man--and a rattling smart one."
+
+"Mike Murphy, the skipper of the _Narcissus_,"  Matt suggested.
+
+"The very man! He's discharging at Union Street Wharf. Phone the
+wharfinger's office and tell him he'll not regret taking a message
+down to the dock to Captain Murphy. Murphy will probably be at lunch
+aboard. Tell the wharfinger to tell him to throw a few clothes into a
+suit case--that he's to go to Papeete on mighty important
+business--and to meet me at the head of Greenwich Street Dock at
+one-twenty, without fail, for his orders and his money. Having phoned
+these orders, Matt, take the office automobile and scorch to the water
+front to see that they're carried out. Take Miss Keenan with you.
+Good-bye."
+
+And Cappy Ricks dashed out of the Merchants' Exchange  as though the
+devil was at his heels walloping him at every jump. It was four blocks
+to the Marine National Bank, but the California Street cable car took
+him there in four minutes. Gasping and perspiring Cappy trotted into
+the cashier's office, where for ten precious seconds he stood,
+open-mouthed, unable to say a word.
+
+"Well, Mr. Ricks," the cashier greeted him, "if you can't talk make
+signs."
+
+Cappy flapped his hands and made three rapid strokes with his index
+finger, like a motion-picture actor writing a twelve-line letter; then
+the words came in a veritable cascade.
+
+"Letters of credit," he croaked-"two." The cashier picked up a pencil
+and a scratch pad. "One, twenty-five thousand, favor Michael J.
+Murphy; one, favor--oh, what in blue blazes is that girl's first name?
+Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I never heard her first name--she's just Miss
+Keenan. Oh, the devil! Call her Matilda--that's it--Matilda
+Keenan--fifty thousand dollars for her; and--"
+
+"You appear to be in a terrific hurry for them, Mr.  Ricks, so I'll
+get them started immediately," the cashier interrupted, and turned his
+memorandum over to an underling, with instructions to give Mr. Ricks'
+letters of credit precedence over all other business.
+
+"Now write--check--your favor--seventy thousand.  I'll sign it--hope
+Skinner has enough cash on deposit; if he hasn't--my personal note,
+you know."
+
+"A mere trifle, Mr. Ricks. We will not worry over that." The cashier
+filled in the check and Cappy signed it with a trembling hand. "And
+now," the cashier continued, "we will have to have Miss Keenan and Mr.
+Murphy come to the bank to register their respective signatures--"
+
+"Nothing doing!" Cappy piped. "Give me the cards and I'll have 'em
+write their signatures on them aboard the steamer and send them ashore
+by the pilot. None o' your efficiency monkey business, my son! I
+guarantee everything."
+
+He dashed to the telephone and yelled into the  receiver: "Taxicab!
+Taxicab!"
+
+"One of the cars belonging to the bank is at the curb, Mr. Ricks. The
+chauffeur will take you wherever you desire to go," the cashier
+suggested.
+
+"Bully for you!" Again Cappy commenced to flap his hands.
+"Stenographer--where's the stenographer? Oh, Judas Priest, nobody
+helps me! Bless your sweet heart, my dear, here you are, aren't you?
+Yes, and I'll not forget you for it either. No, no, no! No notes. Just
+stick piece of paper in the typewriter--now then! Ready! Dictation
+direct to machine. Er--ah! Harumph-h-h! Oh, suffering sailor! What's
+the name of the French bank in Papeete? I don't know. I'm a director
+and vice president of this infernal bank--and I don't know I'm alive!
+Man, man, I want it--a thing--a what-you-may-call-'em--a--Oh, the
+devil! Why do I deposit in this dratted bank? Eureka! I have it! I
+want a notice."
+
+"You mean an advice, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"Bully boy! An advice. That's it. Holy mackerel, how I love a man
+that's fast on his feet! A notice to the bank in Papeete, Island of
+Tahiti, that you've given Captain Michael J. Murphy a letter of credit
+for twenty-five thousand dollars--only one notice for one letter of
+credit. I'm up to skullduggery. Man, man, why don't you dictate? Usual
+courtesies--good customer of your bank--you know; usual flubdub. No
+advice regarding Miss Keenan's letter of credit--just Murphy's."
+
+The cashier good-naturedly shouldered Cappy Ricks aside and dictated
+to the bank's correspondent in Papeete a brief note to the effect that
+the Marine National had that day issued to Captain Michael J. Murphy a
+letter of credit in the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars; that it
+understood Captain Murphy was proceeding to Papeete on some matter of
+business and took this occasion to commend him to their kindly
+offices.
+
+"Stick that in an envelope--address envelope, seal it, and write
+outside: 'Kindness purser S.S. _Moana._' The mail to Papeete is
+closed, but I'll see that the _Moana's_ purser delivers it to the
+bank," Cappy ordered.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+
+
+
+Ten minutes later Cappy dashed up to the entrance of Greenwich Street
+Pier and found Matt Peasley waiting for him, with Captain Murphy. Miss
+Keenan had already gone aboard the _Moana_, the huge funnel of which,
+as Cappy noted with a thrill, was still sticking up over the roof of
+the dock. He crooked his finger and Michael J. Murphy leaped up on the
+running board of his car.
+
+"Mike," said Cappy solemnly, "listen to me! Here's a letter of credit
+in your name for twenty-five thousand dollars, and an advice to the
+bank in Papeete from our bank here stating that the letter of credit
+has been issued. Give this letter to the purser, together with a
+good-sized bill, and ask him to deliver it to the Papeete bank when
+the _Moana_ arrives there. Here, also, is a letter of credit for Miss
+Keenan in the sum of fifty thousand--and the bank in Papeete has no
+notice of it! Remember that! It's important. Keep it to yourself. Miss
+Keenan has the expense money for both of you; tell her to split the
+roll with you. Tell her, also, that her name from now until she gets
+back is Matilda Keenan, and to sign her drafts that way.
+
+"Here are the signature cards. You sign yours and have her sign hers;
+then you give both to Captain Porter, the pilot, when he leaves the
+ship, and ask him to deliver them to me. I, in turn, will deliver them
+to the bank. Tell Miss Keenan she is absolutely under your orders;
+that she's to forget she ever heard of the lumber and shipping
+business. Both of you are to keep away from a man by the name of J.
+Augustus Redell. He's aboard and he's our enemy, captain. He's going
+to bid forty thousand dollars on the German steamer _Valkyrie_; so you
+bid forty thousand and five dollars--and take her away from him. At
+the very last minute have Miss Keenan put in a bid for thirty
+thousand--in case--you know, Mike--we might catch it going and coming.
+It might pay to have you fall down on your bid--you know, Mike! She's
+the dark horse--the reserve capital. "Papeete--one-horse town, Mike.
+Everybody knows the other fellow's business--principal competitor for
+the steamer is an Australian steamship company. Considering condition
+world politics today, and no French bidders, naturally Frenchmen will
+pull for the Britisher. Expect bank will leak and tell 'em you only
+arrived with twenty-five thousand--you know, Mike! Can't be too
+careful. Trust nobody--and remember this man Redell is the smartest
+young man in the world and the trickiest scoundrel under heaven. Don't
+hold him cheap. He's a holy terror! He'd pinch the gold out of your
+wisdom teeth while you'd be laughing at him."
+
+"How high am I to go--if it becomes necessary to bid more than--"
+
+"Shoot the piece!" Cappy ordered. It is to be regretted  that the
+Bilgewater Club, cut off from the house rules in a private dining
+room, had a habit of shooting craps occasionally after luncheon, and
+Cappy Ricks had picked up the patois of the game. "Seventy-five
+thousand is the limit; but satisfy yourself she's worth the limit
+before you go to it."
+
+"And Redell is going to bid forty thousand, sir?"
+
+"That's his limit. He told me so in confidence when he felt certain I
+couldn't possibly be a competitor--told it to me, and kidded me for a
+dead one at twenty minutes of one, when he knew I couldn't possibly
+have time to act. But he forgot the mail--it was delayed--"
+
+"I get you, sir. There's more to this job than merely acquiring the
+ship," retorted the astute Murphy.
+
+"There's a million dollars' worth of satisfaction in it for me if I
+can beat Gus Redell to that steamer. He says I've lost my punch."
+
+But Captain Murphy was off down the dock, suit case in hand, while
+Cappy dismissed his borrowed car and climbed into the office car with
+Matt Peasley. Five minutes they waited at the head of the dock--and
+then four huge motor trucks, laden with mail, lumbered through the
+dock gate. Cappy beamed into Captain Matt Peasley's face.
+
+"I guess this is a rotten day's work for the president emeritus, eh?"
+he chuckled. "President emeritus! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I
+waited for you and Skinner to get wise to all the good things that are
+lying round loose, the Blue Star Navigation Company would be in the
+hands of a receiver within the year. Matt, if you expect to manage the
+Blue Star you'll have to wake up. You're slow, boy--s-l-o-w-w! For
+heaven's sake, don't force me back into the harness! You know I've
+been wanting to retire for years."
+
+"Well, our messengers are aboard, so let's get out of here. I'm
+hungry; I haven't had any lunch," Matt replied.
+
+"Come to think of it," Cappy answered cheerfully, "I believe I could
+eat a little something myself. However, I still have one small duty to
+perform, Matthew. I've got to send a wireless."
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"That scoundrel Redell, of course. Think I'm going to swat him and
+leave him in ignorance of the fact?"
+
+Immediately upon arrival at the Commercial Club, Cappy sent the
+following message:
+
+"J. Augustus Redell,
+
+"Aboard S. S. _Moana_.
+
+"Augustus, my dear young friend, I have known men who grew rich by
+keeping their mouths closed!
+
+"CAPPY."
+
+"There!" said Cappy, as he dispatched this simple declarative
+sentence. "I'll wager one small five-cent bag of smoking tobacco our
+friend Gus Redell will not sleep to-night. He'll just lie awake
+wondering what in Sam Hill I meant by that."
+
+When he got back to his office he found an aerogram, which read as
+follows:
+
+"Alden P. Ricks
+
+"258 California Street
+
+"San Francisco
+
+"Everything lovely. After getting aboard decided to bluff; went to
+Redell, told him I was your representative. He went green clear back
+of the ears; said he had observed delay in sailing. Told him he'd
+better quit and go ashore with pilot; that I had bank roll choke
+hippopotamus. Your wireless handed him that moment! Would hesitate
+repeat his language. Have agreed pay him for his first-class ticket.
+All first-class cabins sold out; had to have it for Matilda. Steerage
+an awful place for a skipper, but will have to make the best of it.
+
+"MUHPHY."
+
+Mr. Skinner, alarmed at the shrill screams emanating from  Cappy
+Ricks' office, rushed in and found the president emeritus rolling
+round in his swivel chair, beating the air and stamping on the floor.
+
+"Good gracious, Mr. Ricks!" Skinner cried.  "What's the matter? Are
+you hurt?"
+
+"Hurt!" Cappy shrilled. "Hurt? Well, I should say so! Skinner, my boy,
+if you ever lose your punch you'll know just how much I'm suffering.
+As Live Wire Luiz would say: 'I die weeth dee-light!'"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+
+
+
+Three months later Cappy Ricks sat alone in his office, his feet on
+his desk, his old head bowed on his breast. Apparently he was having a
+gentle snooze. Suddenly he sat up with the suddenness of a
+jack-in-the-box and stepped to the door leading to Mr. Skinner's
+office.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he said, "do you remember that stinking
+Humboldt spruce I sawed off on Live Wire Luiz one day when you were
+out to lunch?"
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded.
+
+"They claimed a rebate of six dollars a thousand on it," he declared;
+"and we declined to allow the claim. Well, I've decided to allow it,
+Skinner. Tell Hankins to draw a check for the rebate in full and bring
+it in to me. Send in a stenographer."
+
+Cappy clawed his whiskers as the stenographer took her seat at his
+desk.
+
+"Ahem! Hum! Harumph-h-h!" he began. "Take letter."
+
+"Mr. J. Augustus Redell
+
+"President West Coast Trading Co.
+
+"Merchants' Exchange Building, City.
+
+"My dear Gus: Having waited for several weeks in the hope of meeting
+you at the Bilgewater Club, to which, due to some mysterious reason,
+you appear to have been excessively disloyal of late, I despair of the
+delight of a personal interview and am accordingly writing you.
+
+"You will recall that jag of odoriferous spruce your excitable partner
+was chump enough to buy from the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company. On
+the receipt this morning of a communication from my exceedingly
+capable representative in Papeete I came to the conclusion that I
+could afford to allow the rebate claimed by the excessively
+sour-balled Senor Almeida, and accordingly I am inclosing herewith, to
+the order of your company, the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company's check
+for $536.12.
+
+"I also beg to tender you my assurance that if I have seemed in the
+past to cherish an unchristian resentment of that little deal in grape
+stakes, the memory of the outrage no longer rankles in my bosom. For
+you, my dear young friend, I entertain the kindliest, the most
+paternal of feelings. I have not only forgiven, but I have also
+forgotten; for my honor is clear again and I figure I can pretty
+blamed well afford myself the luxury.
+
+"Regarding that steamer _Valkyrie_, please be advised that the next
+steamer to Australia, via Papeete and Raratonga, will carry a Blue
+Star flag and my instructions to our representative to have it tacked
+to the main truck of the _Valkyrie_ as she dies submerged in the
+harbor. Since I assume you will be interested in learning the details
+of our acquisition of the steamer in question, and since, further, I
+cannot see that I have anything to lose by withholding this
+interesting information, please be advised that we bought her in for
+twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars.
+
+"I fear you will be inclined to doubt this and accuse me of romancing
+for the purpose of dropping more salt in a wound still fresh and
+bleeding; but I assure you such a suspicion would be a grave injustice
+to an old man whose portion from you should be pity, not opprobrium.
+
+"To begin, it was very easy--after we had you out of the way. Like a
+sensible man, you knew you were licked and threw up the sponge to save
+yourself unnecessary punishment. It has been my experience that only a
+very wise man has sense enough to do that; consequently, despite your
+youth and impetuosity, I seem to see the glimmer of a very brilliant
+commercial future for the West Coast Trading Company.
+
+"However, to the story: When Mike Murphy got down to Papeete he found
+a couple of broken-down junk dealers hanging round--the kind of
+fellows who would have been glad to bid in the vessel at a couple of
+thousand dollars for the privilege of breaking her up for junk and
+gutting her of her cargo. A little reflection convinced Captain Murphy
+that he could eliminate these small fry and centre his attention on
+the Australian steamship company; and he was aided in arriving at this
+conclusion by your Mr. Jinks, whom he found glooming at the dock on
+the arrival of the _Moana_ minus your handsome self. By the way, Mr.
+Jinks' action in aiding and abetting Murphy, after discovering that
+his own company was out of the running, was so sportsmanlike that, if
+you will kindly advise me of the expense to which you were put in
+sending him to Papeete, we will gladly send you our check to cover.
+
+"It took the capable Murphy about an hour and a half to get the lay of
+the land--and then he started to play his little game. In the rather
+restricted society of Papeete Murphy played the fool. Every little
+while he would apparently acquire a small jag and get very
+confidential. He told everybody his business--in confidence--and
+everybody in Papeete knew just how much he was going to bid on the
+wreck. Finally, the day before the bids were to be opened--Murphy was
+waiting till the last minute before filing his--the captain of the
+port got a wireless from some adventurer down in Noumea, asking him to
+withhold the opening of the bids till he could get up to Papeete and
+make a bid. Murphy had already fooled away three weeks in Papeete and
+if the captain of the port hearkened to the request from the man from
+Noumea it would mean a wait of another three weeks. Consequently he
+awaited the next move with interest.
+
+"Well, Augustus, the captain of the port had the temerity to delay the
+opening of the bids, and Murphy noticed that his competitor hired an
+attorney and made a bitter and formal protest against the delay.
+However, it looked to Murphy like they had made just a little bit too
+much noise--so he hired an attorney and made a lot of noise himself.
+The captain of the port overruled both protests, however; and about
+that time Murphy decided to put over a dirty Irish trick. He announced
+he could see very clearly there was a move on to double-cross the
+legitimate bidders and that he wasn't going to hang round any longer.
+The _Timaru_ was due the next day, so he and Jinks engaged passage to
+San Francisco on her; and, just before he left, Murphy went up to the
+bank and drew eighteen thousand dollars on his letter of credit.
+
+"He got a certificate of deposit in his own name, and that same
+afternoon his attorney filed a sealed bid with the captain of the
+port.
+
+"Now I had suspected there might be a leak from that French bank in
+favor of the Australian; so I had taken care to have it advised by the
+Marine National here that the latter bank had issued a letter of
+credit for twenty-five thousand dollars to Captain Murphy. Therefore,
+the Papeete bank very naturally concluded that twenty-five thousand
+dollars was all the money Murphy had with him! And when he drew
+eighteen thousand dollars on it they thought they knew the exact
+amount of his bid; they thought, also, he had made a bid, in view of
+the fact that his attorney filed one the same afternoon. At any rate,
+the news reached the Australian and he withdrew his bid and
+substituted another. Since he was the possessor of straight inside
+information as to the amount of his single competitor's bid, he saw no
+reason why he should waste money; so he bid four thousand pounds, or
+approximately nineteen thousand five hundred dollars. They say he felt
+pretty sore when the bids were opened and the _Valkyrie_ went to Miss
+Matilda Keenan for twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars.
+
+"Miss Keenan, by the way, is Skinner's stenographer.  Murphy was only
+the decoy. She carried the real bank roll and nobody suspected her; in
+fact, Murphy was so certain of his prey he didn't even bid! He tells
+me the _Valkyrie_ is really a gift, and that, at the widest possible
+estimate of salvage cost, the Blue Star Navigation Company has
+purchased, for two hundred thousand dollars, a
+four-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar ship--thanks to you!
+
+"With kindest regards, and again assuring you of the pleasure I have
+always taken in our friendship--a friendship which, I trust, nothing
+will ever disrupt--I am
+
+"Cordially and sincerely--"
+
+Cappy paused and gazed at the stenographer appraisingly.
+
+"Read that over again, my dear young lady," he commanded.
+
+The girl complied and Cappy nodded his satisfaction.
+
+"You and Mr. Skinner get along all right?" he queried.
+
+"Oh, yes, sir."
+
+"I'm very glad to hear that. You've been substituting  for Miss
+Keenan, haven't you?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, you can have the job for keeps if you want it. You suit me.
+Take letter: 'Miss M. Keenan--' I called her Matilda, but her name's
+Mary; so let it go at that.
+
+"My dear Miss Keenan: Captain Murphy arrived on the _Timaru_, with the
+information that he had taken a chance and left our affairs in the
+laps of the gods and the capable hands of his understudy. It has been
+pretty tough sledding waiting for the next Australian steamer, but,
+thank God! she made port yesterday and your report of the success of
+your mission is before me. I thank you. Yen're a good girl, and I am
+very happy to learn of your engagement to Captain Murphy. He is a
+splendid fellow and I am sending him back to Papeete in command of our
+_Amelia Ricks_, which has been fitted up as a wrecker, to raise the
+_Valkyrie_. You had better wait in Papeete and marry him there, as I
+am opposed to long engagements among my employees; and Michael will do
+better and faster work if he settles all his personal worries before
+tackling those of the Blue Star Navigation Company.
+
+"On his return with the _Valkyrie_ I shall make him port captain of
+the Blue Star Fleet, which job will keep him home nights. And since,
+by his ingenuity, he succeeded in purchasing for twenty-two thousand
+five hundred dollars a piece of property for which I was prepared to
+pay as high as seventy-five thousand dollars, for your wedding present
+I shall allot you and Captain Murphy a ten-thousand-dollar piece of
+the _Valkyrie_. It should earn you thirty per cent and make you
+independent in your old age.
+
+"Very sincerely--"
+
+Cappy Ricks ceased dictating and clawed his  whiskers reflectively.
+
+"Yes," he murmured irrelevantly; "I guess that's considerable of a
+knock-out from an old fogy who's lost his punch!"
+
+Then, to the stenographer:
+
+"That will be all, my dear. As you pass through the general office
+tell those fellows out there that I've gone into executive session
+with myself and am not to be disturbed unless it's something very
+important. I've got to decide which one of our skippers to promote
+into the _Valkyrie_ when we get her up and I must think up a new name
+for her. I think I'll call her the J. H. Skinner. Skinner's a little
+slow on his feet, but he means well and he's old enough to have a ship
+named after him."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+
+
+
+The practical theft from the West Coast Trading Company of the German
+steamer _Valkyrie_, had, to Cappy's mind, atoned for the loss and
+humiliation he had suffered in that grape stake deal. His honor was
+clean again and for weeks he taunted Redell with the latter's
+inefficiency, insufficiency and general business debility, until,
+having extracted the last shred of triumph from the affair, a vague
+sympathy for Redell commenced to surge up in Cappy's kindly heart and
+he commenced casting about for an opportunity to do the former a
+favor.
+
+Redell had enjoyed his beating, for he was, indeed, a rare sport.
+However, he would have to retaliate. The feud must go on. Unless he
+could mix a modicum of fun with his profits, J. Augustus would not
+have regarded the fight worth while, so accordingly he kept his eyes
+and his ears open for a handy weapon with which to jab Cappy through
+that same old rift in his armor--his passion for a large profit
+through an adroit and ingenious deal in a commodity where even a very
+modest profit was not discernible to ordinary mortals.
+
+Finally Redell found the opportunity he sought.  He was so proud of
+his formula that he could not forbear remarking casually to Live Wire
+Luiz one bright day that, granted good health and the approval of
+Providence for one week, he would knock Cappy Ricks for a goal. And he
+narrated his scheme.
+
+"Friend of my heart!" the little Peruvian cried excitedly,  and held
+out his arms to Redell, inviting a fraternal embrace. "I love you!
+Damn eet! I say eet! You are one wezard weeth the money-making
+schemes!"
+
+Mr. Redell cautiously compromised on a hearty handshake; to avoid a
+kiss he was careful to keep the table between himself and Live Wire
+Luiz.
+
+"Shall we empty the corporate sock and climb aboard for every cent we
+can beg, borrow or steal?" he demanded.
+
+"Sure, I bet you!" Live Wire Luiz cried; for, though a featherweight
+physically, he was possessed of the courage of an Alexander.
+
+J. Augustus Redell put on his hat, took from a pigeonhole in his desk
+the last trial balance of the West Coast Trading Company's books and
+departed for a conference with his banker. Half an hour later he
+returned, and the expectant Luiz promptly noted a cloud on Mr.
+Redell's sunny countenance.
+
+"I can't arrange for a loan," he reported disgustedly.  "The limit, in
+view of our present obligations, has been reached."
+
+"On the margin of ten cents," suggested Live Wire Luiz, "take a
+chance, _amigo_. Thees is not speculation. It ees what you call the
+ceench weeth the copper reevets."
+
+"I figure it that way; nevertheless, copper-riveted cinches sometimes
+aren't properly cinched and Fortune backs out of the packsaddle. I
+dare not take a long chance on this, Luiz. If something went wrong
+we'd be sadly embarrassed. We dare not take a chance up to the limit
+of what money we have on hand, because we need those funds for other
+things."
+
+Live Wire Luiz swore mournfully in Spanish. Redell nodded and retired
+to his own office, where for an hour he sat with his head in his
+hands, searching his agile brain for a bright idea that would lead him
+out of his dilemma. Suddenly he leaped to his feet, tossed his hat to
+the ceiling and caught it again as it came down.
+
+"Cappy Ricks is my meat," he declared aloud. "Besides,  I owe Cappy
+one for making a monkey out of me on that last deal. He hoisted me on
+my own petard. Now I'll hoist him, and incidentally annex a profit for
+the West Coast Trading Company."
+
+He rushed out into California Street and for the major portion of the
+day was very busy among various shipping offices. When he returned,
+late in the afternoon, to the offices of the West Coast Trading
+Company, his alert young face wore a pleased and confident smile. Live
+Wire Luiz noted this and took heart of hope.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+
+
+
+Cappy Ricks was, for the thousandth time since his voluntary
+retirement from active business some ten years previous, overwhelmed
+with his ancient responsibilities. Mr. Skinner had, under the
+insistent prodding of his wife, consented grudgingly to a vacation and
+had gone up into the Sierras to loaf and fish.
+
+Scarcely had Skinner departed when one of the Blue Star steamers ran
+ashore on the Southern California coast, and Captain Matt Peasley left
+immediately for the scene of the disaster to superintend the work of
+floating the stranded vessel. This left Cappy riding herd on the
+destinies of the Blue Star ships, with Mr. Hankins, Skinner's
+understudy, looking after the lumber.
+
+Prior to boarding the train, Matt Peasley had ventured  the suggestion
+that Mr. Skinner be ordered by wire to return to town at once; but
+this veiled hint that the Blue Star ships could not be managed by the
+man who had built up the Blue Star Navigation Company had been
+received very coldly by the president emeritus of the Ricks interests.
+
+"Young feller," Cappy informed his son-in-law testily, "I'll have you
+know I was managing the Blue Star Navigation Company quite some years
+before you quit wearing pinafores; so I guess, while you and Skinner
+are away from the office, we can manage to stagger along after a
+fashion."
+
+"But I don't like to have you worried with business after you've
+retired--"
+
+"Retired!" Cappy hooted. "Swell chance I've got to retire! I'll die in
+the harness whether I want to or not. Tut, tut, my boy! Don't be
+afraid to put me in as a pinch hitter for this organization. The worst
+I can do is to single--and I might clout a home run."
+
+"But Skinner has been away two weeks--"
+
+"Enough! It would be a bad thing to obsess Skinner with the notion
+that we can't get along without him. Then he never would take a rest;
+and I don't want any martyrs or neurasthenics round my office. You got
+anything on the fire that's liable to burn or boil over, before you
+get back?"
+
+"Nothing to worry about, Cappy," Matt answered.  "Our five-masted
+schooner _Mindoro_ is the only vessel requiring immediate attention.
+She arrived at Sydney yesterday with lumber from Gray's Harbor, and as
+yet I haven't been able to get a satisfactory return cargo for her."
+
+"What have you been holding out for?"
+
+"I want to get a cargo for delivery in San Francisco if possible. The
+vessel will be ready to go on dry dock by the time she gets back here;
+and besides, I'm planning to put a semi-Diesel-type engine in her."
+
+'"Not by a jugful! She wasn't built with a shaft log, and I won't have
+you weakening my _Mindoro_ by cutting away her deadwood--"
+
+"Tish! Tush! You're a back number, Cappy.  They don't cut through the
+deadwood any more. They run the shaft out over her quarter and hang it
+on struts."
+
+"She'll carry a helm--"
+
+"She'll not; but if she does, let her. It'll give the helmsman
+something to do."
+
+Cappy subsided, fearful that if he persisted he might be given new
+evidence of the fact that times had changed a trifle, here and there,
+since he had--ostensibly--gone on the retired list.
+
+"Well, I'll take care of the _Mindoro_," he assured his son-in-law.
+"Early in life I adopted the woodpecker as my patron saint. Ever
+since, whenever I want anything I keep pecking away, and pretty soon I
+bust through somewhere."
+
+The following morning, bursting with a sense of responsibility, Cappy
+came bustling down to the office and got on the job at eight-thirty.
+After looking through the mail he called up all the freight brokers in
+town and urged them to make a special effort to line up a San
+Francisco cargo for the _Mindoro_; then he summoned Mr. Skinner's
+stenographer and was busy dictating when Mr. J. Augustus Redell was
+announced by a youth from the general office. Cappy went to the door
+to welcome his beloved young friend and business enemy.
+
+"Come in, Gus, my dear boy," he chirped, "and rest your face and
+hands." He turned to the stenographer. "That will be all, my dear, for
+the present. I can't dictate business secrets in the presence of
+this--ahem--harumph-h-h!--er--"
+
+His desk telephone rang. Cappy took down the receiver and grunted.
+
+"J. O. Heyfuss & Co. are calling you, Mr. Ricks," his private exchange
+operator announced.
+
+Cappy smiled and nodded. J. O. Heyfuss & Co. were ship, freight and
+marine insurance brokers.
+
+"Something doing for my _Mindoro_," he  soliloquized aloud.
+
+"Mr. Ricks?" a voice came over the wire.
+
+"Hello there!" Cappy replied at the top of his voice.  For some reason
+he always shouted when telephoning. "Ricks on the job! Whatja got for
+my _Mindoro_, Heyfuss?... Zinc ore? Never carried any before. Don't
+know what it looks like.... Yes; that freight rate is acceptable. We
+should have more, but God forbid that we should be considered human
+hogs... Yes.... Sure it's for discharge in San Francisco? ... All
+right. Close for it.... Good-bye!... Hey there, Heyfuss! Don't close
+in a hurry. See if you can't get the charterers to pay the towage over
+to her loading port. If they won't pay all, strike 'em for half."
+
+He hung up without saying good-bye.
+
+"Well, that's out of the way," he declared with  satisfaction. "Just
+closed for a cargo of zinc ore from Australia to San Francisco ex our
+schooner _Mindoro_. Matt Peasley's been hunting wild-eyed for a cargo
+for her--scouring the market, Gus--and nothing doing! And here the old
+master comes along and digs up a cargo while you'd be saying Jack
+Robinson. By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if you can show me how the
+rising generation is going to get by--"
+
+He paused suddenly, leaned forward, and pointed an accusing finger at
+his visitor.
+
+"Gus," he charged, "you're up to something. I can see it in your eyes.
+You look guilty."
+
+Mr. Redell hitched his chair close to Cappy and with his index finger
+tapped the old gentleman three times on the right knee-three
+impressive taps.
+
+"Alden P. Ricks," he began with equal impressiveness, "I have a
+scheme--"
+
+Cappy chuckled and slapped his thin old thigh.
+
+"I knew it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! Gus, if you ever come into
+my office and fail to unload a scheme on me I'll think you aren't
+enjoying your usual robust health. What are you going to start now? A
+skunk farm for cornering the market on Russian sable?"
+
+"Cut out the hilarity. This is serious business, Cappy. I can show you
+where you and I can waltz into the Chicago Pit, make a killing on
+December wheat, and escape with a sizable wad before our identity is
+discovered."
+
+Cappy, caught off his guard, blinked at the enormity of the prospect;
+but, remembering his dignity as a business man, he shook his head
+sadly and replied:
+
+"Wheat! Wheat, eh? A lumber and shipping man monkeying with wheat? Not
+for little old Alden P. Ricks! No, sir! When I go speculating I stick
+to my specialties--lumber and ships. Did you ever hear of a gambler,
+winning a fortune at faro, who didn't drop his winnings on the
+ponies?"
+
+"But this is a beautiful layout."
+
+"I don't know anything about wheat and I'm too old to learn. Besides,
+I don't trust you, Gus. You're an infernal scoundrel; and experience
+has taught me that any time I take your tip and go in on a deal I have
+to step lively to keep from being walked on."
+
+"But this time I'm free from guile. I won't stab you, Cappy."
+
+"No use! The last boat just left, Augustus."
+
+[Illustration with caption: He always shouted when telephoning.]
+
+Mr. Redell, however, was made of rather stern stuff.  He was a young
+man who never took "No" for an answer. Persistence was his most
+striking characteristic.
+
+"Now listen," he implored. "Let the dead past bury itself. I give you
+my word of honor, Cappy, that this deal is on the level. Just let me
+put all my cards on the table while you take a look; then, if you
+don't want to come in, all I ask is your word of honor that you'll
+stay out while I round up a partner with red blood in his veins."
+
+Cappy pricked up his ears at that. He saw that Redell was serious; he
+knew that once the latter passed his word of honor he never broke it.
+Still, Cappy did not wish to appear precipitate in his surrender; so
+he said weakly:
+
+"I am against speculation."
+
+"You mean you're against foolish speculation," Redell corrected him.
+"I take it, however, that you have no objection to playing a sure
+thing."
+
+"Well," Gappy admitted, "in that event I might be persuaded.
+Nevertheless, I'm afraid of you. There's a fly in the ointment, even
+if I cannot see it. You owe me a poke, and you'll never rest until
+you've squared the account between us."
+
+Mr. Redell held up his hands in abject distress.
+
+"Cappy," he pleaded, "don't say that. You wrong me cruelly. It is in
+my power to stand idly by and let you assimilate a poke right now;
+but, just to show you I haven't any hard feelings, I'll do something
+nice for you instead."
+
+"What do you mean--nice?"
+
+"I'll save you money--not only today but for years to come; and I'll
+save your self-respect."
+
+"Shoot!"
+
+"Call up J. O. Heyfuss & Co. and tell them to take their cargo of zinc
+ore in bulk for your schooner _Mindoro_ and go to the devil with it!"
+
+"But, good gracious, boy, I have to get something for her homeward
+trip!"
+
+"In this case nothing is better than something. Do you know anything
+about zinc ore?"
+
+"Yes; as much as an Eskimo knows about the doctrine  of
+transubstantiation."
+
+"I thought so. Well, I'll enlighten you. Zinc ore is blamed near as
+heavy as lead, and it's as fine as cement. Load it in a ship in bulk
+and, what with the pitching and rolling of a vessel on a long voyage,
+she opens up every seam and crack in her interior; then this powdered
+ore sifts into the skin of the ship and down into her bilge, and
+you'll never be able to get it out without tearing the ship apart.
+Why, after a vessel has freighted a cargo of zinc ore there may be as
+much as fifty tons left in her after she's supposed to be discharged;
+and, of course, thereafter she'll carry that much less cargo than she
+did before. Besides, the consignees are liable to send you a bill for
+the shortage; you can gamble your head they'll deduct it from the
+freight bill."
+
+"Holy sailor!" Cappy was appalled.
+
+"Why," Redell continued, "I'm surprised at your ignorance, Cappy!"
+
+"And I'm amazed at your intelligence! Where did you get all this
+zinc-ore dope?" Cappy challenged. "How do you know it's true?"
+
+"I got it from Captain Matt Peasley. I heard him give it to J. O.
+Heyfuss on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange two weeks ago, when
+Heyfuss tried to sneak up on his blind side and hang that cargo of
+zinc ore on him. I guess they weren't importing much zinc ore when you
+were active in business, Cappy, or you'd have known all about it. You
+see the plot, don't you? As soon as Heyfuss learned that Matt Peasley
+and Skinner had gone away, leaving a defenseless old man on the job,
+he organized himself to spear you."
+
+"The shameless son of a sea cook! By gravy, Gus, you're my friend!"
+
+"Need any more proof?"
+
+"Not a speck."
+
+"Then I'll give you some. Call up Heyfuss and declare  that ore cargo
+off; after you've done that I'll tell you where you can get something
+better. Moreover, you can close the deal yourself and save the
+brokerage."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+
+
+
+Cappy Ricks called up J. O. Heyfuss and in a few terse sentences told
+that individual where to head in.
+
+"Now, then--" he began, facing round on Redell once more.
+
+Again Redell's index finger tapped Cappy's knee.  Dramatically he
+pronounced a single word:
+
+"Wheat!"
+
+"Wheat?"
+
+"Wheat!"
+
+"What kind of wheat?" In his amazement Cappy was rather helpless.
+
+"Number One white Australian wheat."
+
+"You jibbering jackdaw! Wheat? Don't you know blamed well that wheat
+is one of the commodities Australia never exports to these United
+States? Why? Because we don't need her doggoned wheat! We grow all the
+wheat we need and a lot more we don't need; we export that, and it's
+just as fine wheat as you'll find anywhere. Moreover, any time our
+crop is a failure, our next-door neighbor, Canada, is
+Johnny-on-the-spot, ready to make prompt delivery. So what in thunder
+are you talking about?"
+
+For answer J. Augustus Redell drew from his pocket that morning's
+paper and pointed to the headline of a front-page story. Cappy
+adjusted his spectacles and read: Bakers Announce Six-Cent Loaf!
+
+"Hum-m-m!" said Cappy.
+
+"You bet! And it's a smaller loaf, by the way.  Doesn't that argue
+that there is something doing in wheat, when the price of bread goes
+to six cents for a half portion?"
+
+"Well, there might be something in that, Gus. Crack along and tell me
+some more."
+
+"Until the identity of the real culprits is fixed, Cappy, we must
+blame the war in Europe for the six-cent loaf; likewise for the
+fifteen-dollar shoe that formerly cost our wives six or seven; for the
+eleven pounds of sugar for a dollar, when twenty to twenty-two pounds
+was the standard in the good old days. Europe is too busy fighting to
+pay much attention to farming; the wheat farmers of Canada are
+somewhere in France instead of being at home 'tending to business; and
+it has been up to Uncle Sam and the Argentine Republic to feed the
+world, you might say. Naturally speculators have seized upon this
+condition to shoot the price of wheat to the skies, and in desperation
+the millers have been casting about to buy cheaper wheat.
+Investigation discloses the fact that Australia has an enormous
+quantity of wheat on hand; some of it is the surplus of the 1915 crop.
+Of course she has exported all she could to England; but, at that, she
+has been handicapped."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Because when a ship sails from Liverpool with goods for Australia, it
+is a rare case when that same ship promptly loads with Australian
+goods and puts back to Liverpool. She takes a cargo of coal, say, from
+Newcastle up to Manila; a general cargo from Manila to Seattle or San
+Francisco; thence to a West Coast port with a general cargo; thence to
+New York with nitrate; thence to Europe with foodstuffs or munitions.
+Australia hasn't had the tonnage to export her wheat and it's been
+piling up on her. Now they've simply got to sell something to get some
+ready money."
+
+"This is perfectly re-markable!"
+
+Redell took a document from his pocket and gravely handed it to Cappy,
+who examined it and discovered the same to be a charter party,
+consummated the day before between the West Coast Trading Company,
+owners of the barkentine _Mazeppa_, and Messrs. Ford & Carter, a well
+known export and import firm whose principal business was done in
+grain. Cappy read the charter party carefully and even verified the
+signatures, with which he was familiar. The vessel was to carry a
+cargo of wheat from Melbourne to San Francisco at a freight rate that
+fairly shrieked the word "Dividend."
+
+"Re-markable!" Cappy declared. "Preposterous!"
+
+"Seeing is believing. Call up Ford & Carter, and they'll jump over
+themselves to give you a cargo of wheat for your _Mindoro_."
+
+"Im-possible!"
+
+"Well, I'm telling you. Why, it stands to reason, Cappy! Canada and
+the United States are so much nearer Europe than is Australia that it
+has been cheaper to use our wheat, and the result is we've been
+cleaned out; and the newspapers are filled with dismal stories of the
+sufferings of the poor due to the increased price of bread."
+
+"Come to think of it, Gus, there _has_ been a lot of that stuff in the
+papers lately. But, of course, when a fellow's stomach is full and he
+isn't in danger of being attached for debt, he never thinks of the
+less fortunate brother. Yes, Gus, I dare say the demand for our wheat
+now exceeds the visible supply."
+
+"Is it any wonder, then, that this condition of affairs should come to
+the attention of the Australian exporters? Just because Australian
+wheat has never been shipped into the United States is no reason why
+it shouldn't be shipped--particularly when the price of flour goes up
+daily. Why, we pay two and a half dollars for the fifty-pound sack of
+flour that formerly cost us a dollar and a quarter! Eggs are up to
+seventy cents a dozen--by jingo, Cappy, what's going to become of us?"
+
+"God knows!" Cappy answered dismally.
+
+Redell had him hypnotized. Already Cappy could see the gates of the
+poorhouse opening to receive them all. Redell's voice brought him back
+to a realization of his peril.
+
+"You'll find, Cappy Ricks, that for months to come every sailing
+vessel that carries lumber to Australia from the Pacific Coast will
+come back with a cargo of wheat while these war prices are
+maintained."
+
+"Great Jumping Jehoshaphat! How'd you get next to all this, Gus?"
+
+"The early bird gets the worm, and success comes to the man who
+creates his own opportunities. I thought it all up out of my own head,
+Cappy, and then tried it out on Ford & Carter. It knocked 'em cold for
+a minute; but that was only because the proposition was so unusual.
+When I explained the situation to them, however, and gave them time to
+digest it, both offered to take me out to luncheon. You can see for
+yourself they've chartered our Mazeppa at a fancy freight rate."
+
+Cappy licked his lips.
+
+"The _Mindoro_ is sound, tight and seaworthy," he murmured. "She could
+carry wheat."
+
+"Come on in, Cappy. The water's fine!"
+
+"I'll do it! Gus, you're a mighty good fellow, if I do say it that
+shouldn't. I have five windjammers en route to Australia this minute,
+and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, if I can get wheat charters for
+all of them on the return trip I'll accept, if it costs me money. Gus,
+something has got to be done about this high cost of living or we'll
+all go to hell together. There comes a time in a man's life when he
+must put aside the sordid question of 'How much is there in it for
+me?' and ask himself: 'How much can I put in it for the other fellow?'
+Gus, it's our Christian duty to furnish tonnage to import this wheat.
+We should, as patriotic citizens, make it our business to boom
+Australian wheat in the United States and give these doggoned pirates
+that gamble in the foodstuffs of the country a run for their money.
+Food prices should be regulated by this Government. The Chicago Pit
+should be abolished by legislative enactment--"
+
+"Well, they won't do it this year, Cappy," Redell interrupted dryly.
+"Still, it occurred to me that I saw an opening where two high-minded
+philanthropists--to wit, Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell--might
+strike a blow for freedom and at the same time give these wheat
+speculators a kick where it will do them the most good. When one
+cannot annihilate his enemy the next best thing is to take some money
+away from him; and you and I, Cappy Ricks, can take a young fortune
+away from these fellows, while at the same time depressing the price
+of wheat and doing our fellow countrymen a favor. Are you prepared to
+volunteer under my banner? If so, hold up your right hand."
+
+Cappy held up his right hand.
+
+"Out with it, Gus," he ordered; "out with it! This is most
+interesting."
+
+"Ah! You're interested now, are you? Well, bearing in mind the fact
+that your specialty is lumber and ships, I will give you an
+opportunity to withdraw before it is too late. Besides, it occurs to
+me that I have already done enough for you today."
+
+"Don't be greedy, Gus. Remember there is an exception to every rule.
+Besides, I'm getting old and--er--ahem!--hell's bells, boy, I've got
+to have my fling every once in a while. Come now, Gus! Out with it! I
+believe your proposition embodied the coupling of both our names in
+the betting, did it not?"
+
+"It did, Cappy. Still, come to think of it, I really ought not to come
+in here and tempt you into speculating--"
+
+"How much money do you want?" Cappy shrilled impatiently.  "Cut out
+this infernal drivel and get down to business. Unfold your
+proposition; and if it looks to me like a winner I'll take a flyer
+with you if it's the last act of my sinful life."
+
+"On your own head be it, Cappy. Here goes! However, before laying my
+plan before you, perfect frankness compels me to state that my visit
+to you was not born of an overweening desire to do you a kindness or
+make money for you. Philanthropy is not my long suit--in business
+hours; and my interest in you today is purely a selfish one."
+
+"Go on; go on, boy! Am I a child in arms?"
+
+"I have made a ball, Cappy," Redell continued, "and I want you to fire
+it. I have a splendid prescription to make a clean-up in December
+wheat--"
+
+"Give me your prescription."
+
+"Well, sir, my prescription lacks one small ingredient to make it a
+standard household remedy. You can supply that ingredient--to wit,
+cash of the present standard of weight and fineness. Every spare
+dollar that Live Wire Luiz and I can get our hands on is working
+overtime in the legitimate business of the West Coast Trading Company;
+every loose asset with a hockable value has been hocked, and we dare
+not strain our credit with our banker by borrowing money with which to
+speculate. If I apply for a sizable loan, without putting up
+collateral, he'll ask me what I want to do with the money--and if I
+answer truthfully he'll throw Luiz and me and our account out of his
+bank. And I never was a very successful liar. Therefore, in
+consideration of the valuable information I can furnish, I suggest
+that you carry me for a quarter of a million bushels of December
+wheat."
+
+"How much will that cost me?" Cappy queried warily.
+
+"We'll operate on margin. I think a margin of ten cents a bushel will
+do the trick; of course, if wheat should go up a point you'll be asked
+to come through with more money. However, I have a sneaking notion
+that a well-known heavyweight like you can place his order with any of
+the local brokers without having to put up a single cent; at the most
+they might ask you for five thousand or ten thousand dollars. But they
+know you're good for any engagement you may make; they'd be tickled to
+death to have your promissory note. I suggest that you get in touch
+with a sound brokerage house in this city--one that is a member of the
+New York Exchange and the Chicago Board of Trade--and sell, for my
+account, two hundred and fifty thousand bushels of December wheat at
+the market."
+
+"What'll I do for myself?"
+
+"Go as far as you like. You know your own limitations.  I'm desirous
+of selling a quarter of a million bushels at the market; and, as I am
+furnishing the plans and specifications for this raid, I suggest that
+you sell at least a quarter of a million yourself."
+
+"Funny business!" Cappy murmured. "Selling a quarter of a million
+bushels of wheat you do not own and never will! Hum-m-m! Ahem!
+Harumph-h-h! Then what?"
+
+He bent his head and gazed very severely at Mr.  Redell over the rims
+of his spectacles. For reply Mr. Redell took from his pocket thirteen
+sheaves of paper and handed them to Cappy, who investigated and
+discovered them to be thirteen forty-eight-hour options on thirteen
+sailing vessels bound to Australian ports with lumber, and not as yet
+provided with a return cargo to the United States.
+
+"By to-morrow morning I shall have exercised those options and closed
+for thirteen cargoes of wheat," Redell explained. "You have five
+vessels bound to Australia also. Give me an option on them for their
+return cargo and that will make eighteen."
+
+"Yes, yes. Then what?"
+
+"I will charter all of the eighteen to Ford  grain of it, in order to
+protect themselves against a falling market."
+
+"Naturally. And the market is--"
+
+"December wheat closed in the Chicago Pit yesterday at $1.89 1/2, and
+the market has been very stiff for quite a while. The bulls are right
+on the job."
+
+"Will not the advent of all this Australian wheat depress the market?"
+Cappy shrilled excitedly.
+
+"Not unless the bears happen to find it out, Cappy," Redell retorted
+gently. "It is our job to bring the matter to their attention, for it
+so happens that Alden P. Ricks and J. Augustus Redell are the only two
+people in the United States who happen to know about it. Ford bulls
+will get panicky; the bears will take heart of hope, and with Number
+One white Australian wheat they'll beat the brains out of the market
+and in all probability kick it down to $1.85, at which figure we
+promptly buy as much wheat as we have previously sold. Thus we cover
+our shorts, and the difference between $1.89 1/2 and $1.85, less
+brokerage and interest--if any--will be, roughly speaking, four cents.
+Four cents on a quarter of a million bushels is ten thousand
+dollars--not a great deal, truly, in these days of swollen fortunes,
+but, nevertheless, a nice piece of velvet--eh, Cappy, you sporty boy?"
+
+"It isn't so much the money we make," Cappy replied sagely. "It's the
+fun we have making it, my boy; the joy of putting over a winner. The
+instant a man begins to love money for money's sake he's a knave and a
+fool. Kill him! But--er--ahem--as you say, my dear young friend, ten
+thousand each is not to be--er--sneezed at."
+
+"Then you're coming in on the deal?"
+
+"I should tell a man!"
+
+After the fashion of the West they shook hands on it and went to
+luncheon at the Commercial Club.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+
+
+
+Directly luncheon was over and Cappy Ricks had returned to his office,
+J. Augustus Redell moved into action. He called on Messrs. Ford &
+Carter, talked the situation over with them, and showed them where
+they, having the necessary tonnage in hand with which to guarantee
+delivery, could bring a couple of million bushels of fine Number One
+white Australian wheat to the Pacific Coast, cut the price a cent, and
+doubtless unload every kernel of it at a fair profit. There was every
+probability that wheat would go to two dollars. For his part in
+producing this profit Mr. Redell desired a commission of five per cent
+on all sales of wheat imported in the bottoms he had under option and
+which he stood ready to turn over to Ford & Carter without profit,
+since the owners of the vessels would pay him the customary broker's
+commission on the freight money earned on the voyage. Ford & Carter
+said they would think the matter over; so Mr. Redell tactfully
+withdrew, stating that he would call up the following day for an
+answer.
+
+He knew Ford & Carter would promptly dispatch a long cablegram to
+their agent in Australia, instructing him to get a forty-eight-hour
+option on the wheat, with a guaranty of delivery to the vessels as
+they arrived from time to time. Meantime, Ford & Carter would quote
+every milling company in the West, subject to prior acceptance and
+their ability to deliver Number One Australian wheat at a price that
+would be of interest. If the milling companies accepted this rather
+nebulous quotation and telegraphed orders, and Ford & Carter's
+Australian agent could purchase at a satisfactory price the wheat to
+fill these orders, then Ford & Carter would make formal acceptance and
+purchase the wheat. If, on the other hand, their agent in Australia
+failed to get the wheat, then Ford & Carter had an "out" with the
+milling companies who desired to buy the wheat from them, and the
+entire matter would be off, with Ford & Carter merely out a couple of
+hundred dollars in telegraph bills. That was the bet they had to make
+to put their fortune to the touch; and right cheerfully did they make
+it.
+
+J. Augustus Redell gave them all the time he could.  His
+forty-eight-hour options on the vessels then en route to Australia had
+cost him nothing; that was a courtesy which one shipowner always
+extends to another, free of charge, unless the vessel happens to be on
+demurrage at the time the option is given. When his options were
+within two hours of expiring he called on Ford & Carter.
+
+"We'll take 'em all," Carter almost shouted at him.  "They'll be
+arriving with sufficient time elapsing between arrivals to guarantee
+us immunity from any undue delay or embarrassment in loading them.
+We've bought the wheat and sold it; now give us the tonnage to freight
+it, Redell, and we'll all be happy, and a little richer than we were
+the day before yesterday."
+
+Redell took up the telephone and called each shipowner, in turn, to
+inform him that he would exercise his option on the latter's ship, and
+for the owner to prepare charter parties and send them up to his
+office for signature.
+
+"I will have no difficulty in getting the owners to agree to an
+assignment of these charters to you," he advised Carter. "You and Ford
+are brothers in good standing, I take it. However, if they insist on
+doing business through me, in order that they may hold me responsible,
+I'll simply recharter to you at the same rate."
+
+"Lovely!" cried Messrs. Ford & Carter in unison.
+
+Ten minutes later J. Augustus Redell burst into Cappy Ricks' sanctum
+and wakened the old gentleman from his afternoon siesta.
+
+"The trap is set," he announced. "Come on, Cappy!  We're going up to
+the broker's office now and give the order to sell our December wheat.
+I can't go alone, you know. There wouldn't be an odor of sanctity
+about the transaction if I did."
+
+"We'll have Gregg & Company attend to it for us," Cappy announced.
+"You remember Harry Gregg, don't you? Used to be in the steamship
+business years ago. Gosh, that boy knows me! He'll take a stiff finger
+bet from Alden P. Ricks."
+
+Together they motored uptown to the office of Gregg & Co., where
+Cappy's card gained him instant admittance to the broker's private
+office. Redell remained in the anteroom on pretense of speaking to an
+acquaintance, and the instant Cappy disappeared into Gregg's office
+Redell stepped out into the hall, where he waited until Cappy had
+booked his order and came hunting for him.
+
+"Well, I've sold my two hundred and fifty thousand bushels at a
+dollar-ninety," Cappy announced.
+
+"How much margin?" Redell demanded.
+
+"Oh, Gregg didn't sting me very hard. Ten cents a bushel. It seemed
+like a good bet to him. He looks for a drop in December wheat."
+
+"Met a pest out here and couldn't seem to get away from him," Redell
+explained. "Take me in and introduce me to Gregg, and I'll give him an
+order to sell a jag of wheat for me."
+
+Cappy complied and Redell gave the broker his order.
+
+"It will take about twenty-five thousand dollars to margin this trade,
+Mr. Redell," the latter remarked easily as he wrote out the order and
+handed a copy to Redell.
+
+"Nonsense!" Cappy struck in. "Mr. Redell is one of our most
+delightful, trustworthy and popular young men, and to ask him for
+twenty-five thousand dollars today would prejudice his standing with
+his banker. I guarantee him, Harry. Treat him as you'd treat me. I
+guarantee him up to a hundred thousand dollars."
+
+"Your guaranty goes with me, Mr. Ricks," Gregg answered promptly, and
+shoved the copy of the order he had just booked over to Cappy,
+together with the fountain pen. Cappy wrote: "O. K. Alden P. Ricks."
+Redell gave his check for ten thousand dollars margin and the deal was
+closed. When the scheming pair returned to Cappy's office the latter
+gave Redell his check for ten thousand to reimburse Redell for
+margining the trade, in accordance with Cappy's verbal agreement to
+provide the sinews of war.
+
+"Now then, Cappy," Redell announced as he stuffed Cappy's check into
+his pocket, "the next move is to return to my office, close those
+charters with the owners and turn the ships over to Ford & Carter.
+That matter attended to, I shall, with eighteen charter parties in my
+pocket, drift casually over to the Merchants' Exchange. There I shall
+find the market reporters for both of our sunrise sheets; if they are
+not there I shall wait until they arrive. These gifted young men I
+shall draw to one side; to them I shall, with great gusto, relate a
+tale of Number One white Australian wheat, shortly to descend upon the
+United States of America in no less than eighteen vessels, now
+chartered for that purpose, with more to follow. In proof of this
+statement I shall exhibit the charter parties; and then--"
+
+"Front-page story!" Cappy declared, interrupting.
+
+"Not yet--but soon. To get on the front page a story must be rather
+unusual. A perusal of our daily rags will convince the most skeptical
+that the sensational, the unusual, the bizarre are what appeal most to
+the men who make the newspapers. The unusual thing about our deal lies
+in the fact that this is the first time in the history of Australia or
+the United States that the former country has exported wheat into the
+latter--the first time the latter has ever had to call on an outsider
+for help. Then, Cappy, it will be a front-page story--and how those
+boys will hop to it! Why, we'll get a column about Australian wheat
+invading the land of the free whose rapacity threatens the very food
+that goes into the mouths of little children! Little children and
+their mouths is good stuff! I'll use that line when slipping the story
+to the boys. They might overlook it if I didn't. I'll remind them of
+the six-cent loaf of bread, the sufferings of the poor, and how far
+the importation of Australian wheat will go to knock the Chicago wheat
+barons for a goal."
+
+"Here, here! You're too precipitate," Cappy cautioned.  "Don't tip
+this story off to both reporters. That's coarse work. Tell it to one
+only. Put him under obligations to you by seeming to give him a scoop.
+Tell him you won't say a word to his competitor, and he'll tell his
+city editor the story is exclusive; then they'll be certain to play it
+up big."
+
+"Cappy, you're the shadow of a rock in a weary land! Who'll tip off
+the other reporter?"
+
+"I will, of course. Leave it to me. A man doesn't go through the mill
+of Big Business without knowing the way of that singularly useful
+individual, the newspaper man."
+
+Redell sat down and laughed until the tears ran down his merry
+countenance. Cappy thought the outlook sufficiently cheerful to
+warrant that laugh, and suspected nothing. He even joined in the
+laugh.
+
+"And to-morrow morning, when that story appears, the local brokerage
+firms will be calling up Ford friend and gave him a paternal hug. He
+winked wickedly.
+
+"My dear boy," he suggested, "suppose you and I go out and pin one on?
+Hey? How about you, boy? A pint of '98, in order that we may properly
+drink confusion to the wolf of want and damnation to dull care!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+
+
+
+
+Late that afternoon Cappy Ricks graciously summoned  the Chronicle
+reporter to his office and told him in detail all he knew about the
+Australian wheat invasion.
+
+"Of course," he added, "this may be mere street gossip; but I think
+there's something in it, my boy. At any rate, I thought you might care
+to be tipped off to the situation. It looks like a corking story to
+me. I suggest that you call up Ford & Carter and see what they have to
+say about it."
+
+"I wonder whether the Examiner reporter has a tip on this?" the
+Chronicle man queried hopefully.
+
+"Not from me. This story is for you, young man.  That's why I called
+you down to my office."
+
+About the same hour J. Augustus Redell might have been seen at the
+press table on 'Change, unfolding a similar story to the market
+reporter of the Examiner, who thought it was a humdinger of a story,
+and so declared.
+
+"All right. Glad you think so," Mr. Redell replied, beaming upon him.
+"And just to show you I'm right, I'll not breathe a word of it to the
+Chronicle man."
+
+Having planted his journalistic bomb, Mr. Redell glanced at his watch.
+It was exactly eleven o'clock. "I still have time," he murmured, and
+departed immediately to the office of Gregg of December wheat, but to
+cease selling the instant the market hesitated to absorb it or the
+price broke a point. At the same moment, in another brokerage office,
+Cappy Ricks was issuing a similar order. Before the market closed,
+Cappy had succeeded in selling a hundred and eighty thousand bushels,
+while Redell had disposed of a hundred and thirty. Evidently the bears
+took it as it came, for the market closed strong at $1.89.
+
+Neither Cappy nor Redell reported at his office the following day. At
+the hour when the market opened in Chicago both schemers appeared on
+the floor of the Merchants' Exchange and bent their gaze upon the only
+blackboard on 'Change they had not heretofore honored with their
+scrutiny--the board in back of the Grain Pit, which carried the
+quotations on the Chicago Board of Trade, already beginning to come in
+by wire.
+
+For an hour the trading was inactive. Then suddenly the  price broke
+half a point as somebody tossed a lot of fifty thousand bushels on the
+market. Cappy and Redell each wondered whether he might not be the
+responsible party; and while they pondered somebody unloaded a hundred
+thousand bushels at $1.88. Cappy gasped as the quotations appeared on
+the blackboard.
+
+"Something doing, Gus!" he whispered; Redell nodded.
+
+And now commenced a period of wild trading. The price crept back to
+$1.89, only to be assaulted and beaten back to $1.87; then, fraction
+by fraction and point by point, the price fell; and J. Augustus Redell
+wagged his head approvingly.
+
+"They have received our message," he said. "The riot is on!"
+
+When the price had been beaten down to $1.83 Cappy turned to his
+associate.
+
+"I'm through!" he said. "Time to cover my shorts." And he trotted away
+to a telephone booth.
+
+As for Redell, he would not intrust his fortune to a telephonic order,
+but sprang into 'his runabout, parked at the curb outside the
+Exchange, and scorched uptown to Gregg & Co.'s offices, where he
+learned that he had sold four hundred and ten thousand bushels of
+December wheat. One hundred thousand had been sold at $1.90, two
+hundred and eighty thousand at prices varying from $1.89 to $1.88 1/8,
+and the remainder at 1.88.
+
+"Buy me four hundred and ten thousand bushels at the market," he
+ordered.
+
+Before he left the office the sale had been confirmed and Mr. Redell's
+shorts had been covered at a price ranging from $1.83 to $1.83 5/8,
+whereupon he closed out his trade and received a check for his margin
+and his profits. An hour later he met Cappy Ricks again on 'Change.
+
+"Well, Cappy?" he queried.
+
+"I cleaned up, thank you," the old gentleman informed  him. "Sold,
+bought, and got the money. This is one time it rained duck soup and I
+was there with a bucket."
+
+He prodded Mr. Redell playfully in the short ribs and the incident was
+closed. They had made a profit of more than twenty thousand dollars
+each; and when each returned to his office he forgot all about
+December wheat until half past five that evening, when both met on the
+deserted floor of the exchange to scan the blackboard. December wheat
+had closed that day at $1.83! Two days later J. Augustus Redell called
+Cappy Ricks on the telephone.
+
+"That you, Cappy?"
+
+"Yep!"
+
+"Redell speaking. Read the story on the front page of the Chronicle
+this morning?"
+
+"No; what was it?"
+
+"The British Government has placed an embargo on the exportation of
+wheat from Australia; so all those eighteen charters I negotiated with
+Ford were placed with Ford & Carter subject to Ford & Carter's ability
+to make delivery and to prior sale. Before Ford & Carter could make
+them firm orders and get in over their heads, I tipped them off to the
+possibility of this government embargo."
+
+"You tipped them off! How did you know the British Government was
+going to clap an embargo on Australian wheat?"
+
+"Why, I didn't know," Redell confessed. "I just guessed it would; so I
+advised Ford than I did--and I made a trifle more than twenty-four
+thousand dollars,"
+
+"Is that so? Well, listen to me tell it; When you and I cashed in that
+day our deal was closed wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And I'd played fair with you?"
+
+"You certainly did, Gus."
+
+"Then I was freed from any further obligations to take you into
+partnership with me, was I not?"
+
+"That's how I figure it, my boy."
+
+"That's how I figured it also, Cappy. Consequently, being morally
+certain that the British Government would place an embargo on the
+exportation of Australian wheat--Cappy, you must admit that the
+British Government would have been absolutely crazy if it hadn't--I
+just called on Gregg & Co. and bought another half million bushels of
+December wheat at $1.83 to $1.84 a bushel. Then I sat tight and waited
+for that embargo story to break. Cappy, do you know that story just
+raised hell on the Chicago Pit today? The bears were caught napping;
+and the bulls got busy and kicked the price up to $1.90 again, at
+which figure I unloaded and took my profit."
+
+"You amazing rascal! Why didn't you tip your partner off to that
+deal?"
+
+"We were no longer partners. You admitted that a moment ago. When I
+first outlined this scheme I didn't have a dollar to spare with which
+I could speculate. Every last cent was tied up in the business of the
+West Coast Trading Company. So I schemed to take you in as a partner
+on one-half of the deal; and you not only financed me but guaranteed
+me to the broker! Your introduction was all I wanted. After that my
+credit was as good as December wheat; in consequence of which, without
+a cent invested, I was actually enabled to carry a trade for half a
+million bushels! Much obliged to you, Cappy. You're a fine old sport,
+and I like you--I wouldn't be surprised if you laid off on me after
+this--eh, Cappy?"
+
+"Gus," said Cappy Ricks, "one of these days the Democratic party is
+going to wake up and discover that America isn't where they left it
+the night before! And when that happens they're going to ask you about
+it, you--you--infer-nal--"
+
+The phone clicked. J. Augustus Redell had hung up.
+
+"Drat it!--God bless him!" murmured Cappy Ricks--and hung up, too.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+
+
+
+
+Whenever Cappy Ricks made up his mind that his Blue Star Navigation
+Company ought to add another vessel to its rapidly growing fleet, he
+preferred to build her; for a few bitter experiences early in life had
+convinced him that the man who buys the other fellow's ship quite
+frequently is given a bonus in the shape of the other fellow's
+troubles--troubles which have the unhappy faculty of tilting the
+profit-and-loss account over into the red-ink figures. In order to
+avoid these troubles, therefore, Cappy would summon his naval
+architect, whom he would practically drive to distraction by fussing
+over the plans submitted before giving a final grudging acceptance.
+The blue prints approved, Cappy would spend a week picking holes in
+the specifications, and when there was no more fault to find Mr.
+Skinner, his general manager and the president of the Ricks Lumber &
+Logging Company, would send a list of the timbers, planking, and so on
+required, to one of Cappy's sawmills in Washington; for Cappy had a
+theory--the good Lord knows why or where acquired--that Douglas fir
+from the state of Washington was better for shipbuilding purposes than
+Douglas fir grown in Oregon. Perhaps he figured that the Columbia
+River, which separates the two states, made a difference in grade.
+
+The woods boss would then be adjured to select his trees with great
+care. No tree would do that sprouted a limb within eighty feet of the
+butt, and the butt had to be at least six feet in diameter, in order
+that it might produce fine, clear, long-length planks that would not
+contain "heart" timber--the heart of a log having a tendency to check
+or split when seasoned. When the material was sawed a Blue Star steam
+schooner would transport it to San Francisco Bay, and it would be
+stored in Cappy's retail lumber yard in Oakland, to be seasoned and
+air-dried; following which Cappy Ricks would let the contract for the
+building of the vessel to a shipyard on Oakland Estuary, and sell the
+builder this seasoned stock at the price of rough green material, even
+though it was worth two dollars a thousand extra--not to mention the
+additional value for the extra-long lengths furnished specially.
+Cappy's ancestors, back in Maine, had built too many ships to have
+failed to impress upon him the wisdom of this course; for, on this
+point at least, initial extravagance inevitably develops into ultimate
+economy.
+
+Following the laying of the keel, Cappy would come out of retirement
+and become an extremely busy man. He had the vessel's engines to
+consider; and for two weeks his private office would resound with the
+arguments and recriminations of Cappy and his port engineer. There
+would be much talk of pistons, displacement of cylinders, stroke,
+reciprocating engines, steeple compound and triple-expansion engines,
+Scotch boilers, winches, compressors, dynamos, composition and iron
+propellers and the latest developments in crude-oil burners. And on
+the day when the port engineer, grown desperate because of the old
+man's opposition to some detail, would fly into a rage and resign,
+Cappy would know that, at last, everything was all right; whereupon he
+would scornfully reject the resignation and take his port engineer to
+luncheon at the Commercial Club, just to show he wasn't harboring a
+grudge.
+
+In the meantime the port captain would be making daily visits to the
+shipyard to make certain that the builder was holding rigidly to the
+specifications and not trying to skimp here and there; and on
+Saturdays Cappy would accompany him and satisfy himself that the port
+captain wasn't being imposed upon. Finally the ship would be launched;
+and as she slid down the ways Cappy Ricks would be standing on her
+forecastle head, his old heart fluttering in his thirty-six-inch chest
+and his coat-tails fluttering in the breeze, one arm round the port
+captain and the other round the port engineer. As the hull slipped
+into the drink he would say:
+
+"Boys, this is the life! I love it! By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,
+there's more romance in ships than you'll find in most married lives!"
+Then he would wave an arm up Oakland Estuary, which prior to the great
+war was the graveyard of Pacific Coast shipping, and say with great
+pride: "Well, we've done a good job on this craft, boys; she'll never
+end in Rotten Row! Every sliver in her is air-dried and seasoned.
+That's the stuff! Build 'em of unseasoned material and dry rot
+develops the first year; in five years they're punk inside, and
+then--some fine day they're posted as missing at Lloyd's. Did you ever
+see a Blue Star ship lying in Rotten Row? No; you bet you didn't--and
+you never will! I never built a cheap boat and I never ran 'em cheap.
+By gravy, the Blue Star ships are like the Blue Nose that owns 'em!
+They'll be found dead on the job!"
+
+Quite early in 1915 the Blue Star Navigation Company  had found ample
+opportunity, due to a world scarcity of tonnage, to dispose of several
+of their oldest and smallest steam schooners at unbelievably fine
+prices.
+
+"Get rid of them, Matt," Cappy advised his son-in-law,  Captain Matt
+Peasley, whom he had made president of the company. "You have the
+permission of the president emeritus to go as far as you like. Big
+boats for us from now on, boy. Slip the little ones while the slipping
+is good. These high prices will not prevail very long--only while the
+war continues; and at the rate they're slaughtering each other over in
+France the war will be over in six months; then prices will fall
+kerflump! Then we'll build a couple of real steamers."
+
+So Matt Peasley promptly sold five steam schooners, following which he
+made up his mind that the world still had two years of war ahead of
+it. Accordingly he urged the letting of contracts for two
+seven-thousand-five-hundred-ton steel freighters immediately.
+
+"Nothing doing!" Cappy declared. "Why, it's rank nonsense to think of
+building now at wartime prices. If our recent sales have pinched us
+for tonnage we'll have to charter from our neighbors and worry along
+as best we can until the war is over."
+
+"You're making a mistake, Cappy Ricks," his son-in-law  warned him.
+
+"Ask Skinner if I am. Skinner, let's have your opinion."
+
+Mr. Skinner, always cautious and ultra-conservative promptly advised
+against Matt Peasley's course; but Matt would not be downed without a
+fight.
+
+"I know prices for ship construction are fearfully high just now," he
+admitted; "but--mark my words!--they're going to double; and if we
+place our contracts now, while we have an opportunity to do so, we'll
+be getting in on the ground floor. I tell you that war hasn't really
+started yet; and the longer it continues the higher will prices on all
+commodities soar--but principally on ship construction. Father-in-law,
+I beg of you to let me get busy and build. Suppose the boats do cost
+us a quarter of a million dollars more each than we could have built
+them for in 1914. What of it? We have the money--and if we didn't have
+it we could borrow it. I don't care what a ship costs me when freight
+rates are soaring to meet the advance in construction costs."
+
+Nevertheless, Cappy and Mr. Skinner hooted him down. Three months
+later, however, when Cappy Ricks had changed his mind, and Mr. Skinner
+was too heartbroken to curse himself for a purblind idiot, it was too
+late to place the contracts. Every shipyard in the United States and
+abroad was loaded up with building orders for three years in advance,
+and the Blue Star Navigation Company was left to twiddle its corporate
+thumbs. Matt Peasley was so angry that he almost speculated on the
+delight of being at sea again, in command of a square rigger, with
+Cappy Ricks and Mr. Skinner signed on as A.B.'s; in which condition of
+servitude he might dare to call them aft and knock their heads
+together. However, he managed to have his revenge. Every time nitrate
+freights went up a dollar a ton he told them about it with great
+gusto, and the day he chartered the _Tillicum_ for Vladivostok, with
+steel for the Russian Government at seventy-five dollars a ton, he
+had poor Cappy moaning in his wretchedness.
+
+"Just think how nice it would be," he taunted his aged relative, "if
+we had only placed contracts for two big boats when I urged it. By the
+middle of summer I'd have them both on the Vladivostok run--perhaps at
+a hundred dollars a ton; and long before the war is over you could do
+what you've been trying to do for the past ten years."
+
+"Do what?" Cappy queried.
+
+"Retire!" Matt retorted meaningly.
+
+"In-fernal young scoundrel!" Cappy was angry enough to commit murder.
+"Out of my office!" he shrilled, and pointed to the door.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+
+
+
+
+For once in his busy life it was, figuratively speaking,  raining duck
+soup, and poor Cappy was there with a fork! When he had recovered his
+composure he sent for Matt Peasley.
+
+"Matt, my dear boy," he confessed miserably, "this is certainly one
+occasion upon which father appears to have overlooked his hand.
+However, none of us is perfect; and if we're caught out without an
+umbrella, so to speak--"
+
+"We?" Matt reminded him witheringly. "Cappy, it's all right to use
+that 'we' stuff when you're talking to Skinner, but trot out the
+perpendicular pronoun when you're talking to me. I hate to say 'I told
+you so'; but--"
+
+"Lay off me!" Cappy pleaded. "I'm an old man, Matt; so be easy on me.
+Besides, I don't make a mistake very often, and you know it."
+
+"I do know it. But when you blocked me on that building scheme you
+certainly made up for lost time. Really, Cappy, you mustn't make me
+play so close to my vest in these brisk times. If I'm to manage the
+Blue Star Navigation Company I mustn't have my ideas pooh-poohed as if
+I were a hare-brained child."
+
+"I know, Matt; I know. But I built up the Blue Star Navigation Company
+and the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company by playing 'em close, and it's
+a hard habit to break.
+
+"However, let us forget the past and look forward with confidence to
+the future. Matt, my dear boy, since we cannot get a shipyard to build
+a steamer for us, I'm going to break a rule of forty years' standing
+and buy one in the open market. I guess that'll prove to you I'm not
+so hide-bound with conservatism as you think. Go forth into the
+highways and the byways, Matt, and see what they have for sale."
+
+"How high do you want me to go?"
+
+"As high as they hung Haman--if you find it necessary."
+
+"That's certainly a free hand; but I'm afraid it comes too late. I
+doubt if there is an owner with the kind of steamer we want who is
+crazy enough to sell her."
+
+"Tish! Tush! All things are for sale all the time.  Scour the market,
+Matt, and you'll find Cappy Ricks isn't the only damned fool left in
+the shipping business. My boy, you'd be surprised at the number of
+so-called business men who are entirely devoid of imagination. Dozens
+of them still think the war will end this fall, but I'm willing to
+make a healthy bet that the fall of 1917 still finds them going to it
+to beat four of a kind."
+
+"You said something that time, father-in-law," Matt replied
+laughingly.
+
+Then he roughed the old man affectionately and went forth into
+California Street, where he wore out much shoe leather before he
+located what he considered a bargain and reported back to the
+president emeritus.
+
+"You're right, Cappy!" he declared. "You aren't the only boob in the
+shipping business. I've located another."
+
+"That's what you get by taking father's advice," Gappy retorted
+proudly. "Have you bought a steamer?"
+
+"No; but I'm going to buy one this afternoon.  She's going to cost us
+half a million dollars, cash on the nail, and I have an option on her
+at that figure until noon today. Skinner has a lot of lumber money he
+isn't using, and I'm going to borrow a quarter of a million from his
+company on the Blue Star note at six per cent. Don't want to run our
+own treasury too low."
+
+"Dog-gone that Skinner! That's some more of his efficiency. I own both
+companies, and it's just like taking money out of one pocket and
+putting it into the other; but Skinner's a bug on system. Just think
+of making me pay myself six per cent interest! However, I suppose we
+must have some kind of order. What's the name of the steamer?"
+
+"The _Penelope_."
+
+Cappy Ricks slid out to the edge of his chair, placed one hand on each
+knee, and appraisingly eyed his son-in-law over the rims of his
+glasses.
+
+"Say that again, Matt--and say it slow," he ordered.
+
+"I said _Penelope--P-e-n-e-l-o-p-e_. Maybe you call her the
+_Pen-elope!_"
+
+"Are you buying her as is?" Matt nodded. "To hear you tell it, Matt,
+one might gather the impression that half a million dollars is about
+what we give the janitor at Christmas. Boy, half a million dollars is
+real money."
+
+"Not in the shipping business these days, Cappy.  Why, you have to
+wave that much under an owner's nose before he'll look up and show
+interest enough to ask you who you are and who let you in."
+
+"Well, the man who would, in cold blood, consider paying half a
+million dollars for the _Penelope_ is certainly ripe for a padded
+cell," Cappy jeered. "That fellow Hudner, of the Black Butte Lumber
+Company, owns her, does he not?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then you know exactly the condition she's in. I'll bet a cooky her
+bottom plates are rusted so thin from lack of an occasional coat of
+red paint that if you were to stand on her bridge and toss a tack
+hammer down her main hatch you'd punch a hole in her. She's a long,
+narrow-gutted, cranky coffin--that's what she is; and the worst-found
+ship in Pacific waters. Why, let me tell you something, young man: she
+can't get by the inspectors this minute."
+
+"She has just gotten by them," Matt contradicted.  "Passed yesterday."
+
+"What does that signify? When her skipper has her up for inspection he
+scours the water front like a hungry dog, borrowing a boathook here, a
+sound life-boat there, some fire buckets elsewhere, a hose from the
+fire tug, and a lot of engine-room tools wherever he can get them. As
+for life preservers, he rents them for ten cents each from a marine
+junk dealer. So, when the inspectors arrive, the _Penelope_ is a
+well-found ship; as soon as they pass her the skipper returns the
+equipment, with thanks. As for paint--why, the only painting she ever
+gets is when Hudner lays her alongside some British ship to discharge
+a foreign cargo of lumber into the lime-juicer; then her mate steals
+all the paint in the Britisher's lazaret. The poor, unfortunate devil!
+He has to do something to make a showing with the _Penelope's_ owner!
+I tell you, Matt, I know this man Hudner! He's as thrifty as an
+Armenian and as slippery as a skating rink. He's laying to stab you,
+boy. Mind your step!"
+
+"Even so, Cappy, she's a bargain. I expect to spend fifty thousand
+dollars putting her in first-class condition after we get her."
+
+"You expect to spend it! Why, how you talk!  Hudner is the one that
+should spend that money. For the love of trade, what is he selling
+you? A ship or a hulk?"
+
+"I don't care what she is; we can make her pay for herself and earn
+half a million or a million extra before this war ends. And she won't
+be such a bad vessel after she's shipped a couple of new plates. She
+has a dead weight capacity for six thousand tons and was built at
+Sunderland in 1902. When she went ashore off Point Sur, in 1909,
+Hudner bought her from the underwriters for five thousand dollars and
+spent more than half her original cost repairing her. That, of course,
+made her tantamount to a ship built in the United States, and under
+American registry she can run between American ports. And that's what
+we want. She'll be just the thing to carry lumber to New York, via the
+Canal, when the war ends and the nitrate harvest is over."
+
+Cappy Ricks threw up his hands.
+
+"You see before you, my boy," he said mournfully, "a dollar-burdened,
+world-weary old man, who for ten years has been trying to retire from
+active business, and cannot. The reason is he dassent; if he dassed,
+this shebang would be in the hands of the sheriff within a year. Now,
+listen, young feller! I know all about the _Penelope_. Before the war
+she had repaid Hudner, with interest, every cent she cost him, and
+since the war I suppose she's made half a million dollars. Now when
+Hudner finds he has to spend a lot of money fixing her up, he figures
+it's best to get rid of her and saddle somebody else with the bill.
+Her intrinsic value is just about one hundred and twenty-five thousand
+dollars, and when Hudner asks half a million for her he expects to get
+four hundred and fifty thousand. In order to play safe, go back and
+offer him four hundred thousand dollars; presently he'll come down
+fifty thousand and you'll come up fifty thousand, and the trade will
+be closed on that basis. Meantime I'll sit here and weep as I reflect
+on the cost of putting that ruin in fit shape to receive a Blue Star
+house flag. I tell you, Matt, I wouldn't send Pancho Villa to sea in
+her as she is now."
+
+Matt Peasley, like Cappy Ricks, was a Yankee; when he did business he
+liked to chaffer; and, after all--he thought--there was a certain
+shrewd philosophy in what his foxy father-in-law had said. At least
+Cappy had supplied him with ammunition for argument; so he went back
+to Hudner's office and argued and pleaded and ridiculed, but all to no
+avail. He returned to Cappy Ricks' office.
+
+"I fought him all over his office," he complained, "but he wouldn't
+come down a cent. I think we'd better take a chance and give him half
+a million."
+
+"Fiddlesticks! Stay with him, Matt. I know Hudner. He acts like he's
+full of bellicose veins, but anybody can outgame him. Let your option
+expire; then to-morrow meet him accidentally on 'Change and talk with
+him half an hour about everything on earth except the S. S.
+_Penelope_. Just before you leave him he'll grab you by the lapel of
+your coat and ask if you're still interested in the _Penelope_. Then
+you say: 'Why, yes--moderately; but not at half a million.' Then you
+make him a firm offer--for the last time--of four hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars; and he'll say: 'I'll split the difference with
+you'--and before he can crawfish you accept. You're bound to make at
+least twenty-five thousand by following my advice, Matt."
+
+Matt Peasley ran his big hand through his thick black locks.
+
+"By jingo," he declared, "we'd make twenty-five thousand dollars while
+we're dickering with Hudner!"
+
+"I know, my boy; but then I don't like Hudner, and it's awful to do
+business with a son of a horsethief you don't like and let him put one
+over on you. That's the thrill of doing business, Matt. Though I'd
+hate to have anybody think I'm in business for fun, still, if I
+thought I couldn't get some fun out of business I'd go right down to
+Mission Street Wharf and end all."
+
+"Nitrate freights are up to thirty dollars a ton," said Matt later
+that day. "They were twelve a year and a half ago. Cappy, we can't
+risk the delay; and I'm sorry I took your advice and let my option
+expire. I insist on buying." He reached for Cappy's desk 'phone. "I'm
+going to tell Hudner to prepare the bill of sale--that I'll be up in
+fifteen minutes with the check. He who hesitates is lost, and--"
+
+The door opened and a youth stood in the entrance.
+
+"Mr. J. O. Heyfuss is calling," he announced.
+
+"Show him in immediately," Cappy ordered, glad of the opportunity to
+delay Matt's telephonic acceptance of the vessel at Hudner's price.
+"Hold on a minute, Matt," he continued, turning to his son-in-law.
+"Heyfuss is a ship broker; maybe he has a ship to sell us; she might
+prove to be a better buy than the _Penelope_... Howdy, Heyfuss? Come
+in and sit down."
+
+Mr. Heyfuss entered smilingly, saluted both satellites of the Blue
+Star and sat down.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," he announced, "wonders will never cease. Every day
+I'm seeing, hearing and doing wonderful things in the shipping
+business. Day before yesterday I bought the old barkentine _Mayfair_.
+She'd been laid up in Rotten Row for seven years, and for at least
+four years the tide has been rising and falling inside her. She cost
+me seven hundred and fifty dollars, and I sold her the same afternoon
+to Al Hanify for a thousand. Not very much of a profit; but then it
+was Saturday and everybody closes up shop at noon, you know. So I felt
+the day wasn't a blank, anyhow.
+
+"And what do you suppose Al did? You'll laugh.  He called up Crowley
+her out on Hanlon's Marine Way, putting a new bottom in her. They're
+going to spend twenty thousand dollars on her; and when she's ready
+for sea Redell has a cargo of fir for Sydney waiting for her.
+
+"She'll come back with coal and make her owners at least fifty
+thousand dollars."
+
+"That's all very interesting to outsiders, but  commonplace stuff to
+us," Cappy reminded his visitor. "Have you got a commission to sell a
+ship for somebody?"
+
+"Want one?"
+
+"Surest thing you know!"
+
+"All right. I'll sell you the _Alden Besse_. She's an old tea clipper,
+built in the forties; but she's sound and tight. Been a motion picture
+ship for the past five years. I can deliver her to you for forty
+thousand dollars."
+
+"No, you'll not. I sold her to the motion picture people for fifteen
+hundred," Cappy countered, "and I don't want her back at any price. I
+send my boys to sea to earn a safe living, not to visit Davy Jones'
+locker."
+
+"Well, I think I might get you the old Australian prison ship,
+_Success_. She was built at Rangoon in 1790, of teak, and will last
+forever. Perhaps you saw her when she was exhibited at the Exposition
+last year. Might get her for you kind of cheap."
+
+"Nothing doing. Heyfuss, we want a steamer."
+
+"Sorry, but I haven't a thing in steamers. Just sold the last one I
+had ten minutes ago--the _Penelope_."
+
+"The what!" Matt Peasley and Cappy cried in chorus.
+
+"The _Penelope_. Sold her to a big Eastern powder company. She goes
+into the nitrate trade, of course. These munition manufacturers must
+have powder, and to get powder they must have nitrate, and to get
+nitrate they must have ships, and to get ships they must pay the
+price. I got Hudner a million dollars for that ruin of a _Penelope._"
+
+Matt Peasley gently seized J. O. Heyfuss by the ear and led him to the
+door.
+
+"Out, thief!" he cried. "You can't sell us anything; so we don't want
+you hanging round this office. You might steal the safe or a roll-top
+desk, or something."
+
+Heyfuss departed, laughing good-naturedly, and Matt Peasley turned to
+confront Cappy Ricks. The latter had shrunk up in his chair and was
+looking as chopfallen and guilty as a dog caught sucking eggs. He
+favored his big son-in-law with a quick, shifty glance, and then
+looked down at the carpet.
+
+Matt folded his arms and stared at him until he looked up.
+
+"Don't you go to pick on me!" he warned Matt furiously.  "I'll not be
+picked on in my own office, even by a relative."
+
+Matt threw back his head and chanted,
+
+
+   _"There was I, waiting at the church,
+    Waiting at the church--"_
+
+"I was right!" Cappy shrilled. "My mode of procedure  was without a
+flaw."
+
+"Absolutely! The operation was a success, but the patient died."
+
+"But a feller just has to haggle!" Cappy wailed.  He was almost on the
+verge of tears. "It's the basic principle of all trading. Why, I've
+made my everlasting fortune by haggling. Drat your picture, don't you
+know that the very pillars of financial success rest on
+counter-propositions?"
+
+"Listen, relative, listen: I haven't said a word to you, have I?" Matt
+replied.
+
+"No; but you looked it, and I'll not be looked at."
+
+"All right, Cappy, I'll not look. But I can't help thinking."
+
+"Thinking what?"
+
+"That it's about time you quit talking about retiring--and retired!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+
+
+
+
+With this Parthian shot Matt himself retired, leaving  Cappy to shiver
+and bow his head on his breast; in which position he remained
+motionless for fully an hour.
+
+"I guess the boy's right," he soliloquized finally. "I think I'd
+better retire, after pulling that kind of a deal twice in the same
+place. The pace is getting too swift for me, I think; I can't keep
+up... Well, I guess they've got the goods on me this time. Matt was
+certainly on the job twice, and I blocked him both times ... Oh, Lord!
+I'll never hear the last of this... By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet,
+I've lost my punch! Matt didn't say so; but he thinks it. And I don't
+blame him a bit."
+
+The door of Cappy's office opened and again the youth stood in the
+entrance. "Mr. Redell is calling; there's a gentleman with him," he
+announced.
+
+"Tell 'em I'm busier'n a cranberry merchant," Cappy snarled. "And
+unless you're figuring on hunting a new job, my son, don't you come in
+here again today."
+
+The youth retired. However, he knew from experience that Cappy Ricks
+never discharged anybody save for insubordination or rank
+incompetence; hence, he did not hesitate to disobey the old
+gentleman's edict.
+
+"Mr. Redell says his business is very important," he announced,
+presenting himself once more at the door.
+
+"All right! No rest for the weary. Show them in."
+
+J. Augustus Redell entered, accompanied by no less a personage than
+the British Consul. Cappy greeted them without enthusiasm and bade
+them be seated.
+
+"Well," J. Augustus Redell announced cheerily, "It's plain to be seen
+that Little Sunshine hasn't been round this office recently."
+
+Cappy grunted.
+
+"What's gone wrong, Cappy?"
+
+"Everything! Been going wrong for years and I never realized it until
+this afternoon. Ah, Gus, my dear young friend, how I envy you your
+youth, your capacity to think, your golden dreams, your boundless
+energy, your ability to make two-dollar bills grow where one-dollar
+bills grew before, thus making an apparently barren prospect as
+verdant as a meadow in spring. But make the most of your opportunity,
+young feller! The day will come to you, as it has come to me, when
+everything you do will be done twenty minutes too late; when every
+dollar you make will be subject to a cash discount of one hundred per
+cent; when every competitor you held cheap will suddenly develop the
+luck of the devil, the brains of a Demosthenes, and the courage of a
+hog going to war."
+
+"I should judge that you have recently suffered a great bereavement."
+
+"I have, Augustus, I have. Through my indecision I have just lost a
+bank roll a greyhound couldn't have jumped over. Suppose it was a
+paper profit? I grieve just the same."
+
+"Forget it, Cappy! Life is real, life is earnest, and you have a bank
+roll of real profits a giraffe couldn't reach the top of."
+
+"Oh, it isn't the money, Gus. Money is only a vulgar symbol of my
+bereavement. The trouble is--I've lost my punch! I can't think, Gus; I
+can't act promptly. I'm out of touch with my times. I remind myself of
+nothing so much as the old rooster that suddenly discovered he had
+been elected to furnish the dinner the following Sunday. His hens
+cackled and called to him that they had found some worms, but he
+wouldn't pay any attention to them; just leaned up against the wire
+netting in the poultry yard and said to himself: 'Oh, hell! What's the
+use? Today an egg--tomorrow a feather duster!'"
+
+"Don't be pessimistic, Cappy. Don't! It doesn't become you, and I
+don't believe a word you're telling me. You're still the old he-fox of
+the world; and I've come to you for help on a deal that's going to
+mean a whole lot of money to both of us if we can only put it
+through."
+
+"I'm sorry, Gus, but I'm not interested. As a matter of fact, I've
+retired."
+
+"Nonsense! Nonsense! I know where there's a beautiful ten-thousand-
+ton, net register, steel steamer to be bought for three hundred
+thousand dollars--"
+
+Cappy Ricks threw out an arm and pressed his hand against Redell's
+mouth.
+
+"Sh-h-h!" he warned. "Sh-h-h! Hush!"
+
+With the agility of a man half his age Cappy ran to the door, bolted
+it on the inside and returned to his desk. He was rubbing his hands
+and his eyes were aglow with interest.
+
+"What are you sh-h-h-ing about?" Redell demanded.
+
+"Matt Peasley and that cowardly Skinner. Not a word of this to them,
+Gus! Not--a--whisper!" And he winked one eye and twisted up the corner
+of his mouth knowingly. Mr. Redell nodded his promise and Cappy went
+on: "Now Gus, my dear young friend, start in at the beginning and tell
+me everything. I assume, of course, that this is real business and not
+another of your jokes on the old man. Word of honor, Gus?"
+
+"Word of honor, Cappy."
+
+"All right; blaze away! Come, come! What have you got to offer?"
+
+"I have a condition and I offer you a half interest in it if you can
+suggest a plan to circumvent His Royal Highness, Kaiser Wilhelm--"
+
+"Hum-m-m! Enough!" Cappy interrupted, and turned to the British
+Consul: "This is an international affair, eh? See if I don't state the
+proposition in a nutshell--if I may be pardoned the bromide. This
+steamer is a German, and the proposition is to get her under the
+American flag so firmly that she'll stay there; then, I suppose, we're
+to charter her to the British Government, or one of Britain's
+allies--Russia, for instance."
+
+J. Augustus Redell and the British Consul exchanged admiring winks.
+
+"What did I tell you, Mister Consul?" Redell declared  triumphantly.
+"Mr. Ricks knows the story before we have told it. And yet he's
+complaining about the loss of his punch!"
+
+Cappy looked slightly self-conscious; it was plain the compliment
+pleased him.
+
+"Well, Gus, my boy," he answered, "I have lost my punch, though at
+that I'm not exactly a pork-and-beaner. Hum-m-m! Ahem! Harumph-h-h!
+This must be a hard order to fill. Mister Consul, when Gus Redell has
+to come to me for help. That son of a gun can move faster and go
+through more obstacles than quicksilver. Gus, what's gone wrong with
+you? Have you lost your punch too? And at your age?"
+
+"Looks like it, Cappy. I've thought and thought until I'm desperate,
+and not an idea worth while has presented itself. That's why I've come
+to you."
+
+"Well, I don't guarantee a cure, my boy. But I'll say this much: If
+you and I can't put this thing over, then it just isn't put-overable.
+Fire away, Gus!"
+
+"Have you ever heard of the steamer _Bavarian?"_
+
+"Of course! She belongs to Adolph Koenitz and flies the German flag.
+Since the war started she's been interned down in Mission Bay."
+
+Redell nodded.
+
+"Adolph Koenitz never became an American citizen, despite the fact
+that he had lived in San Francisco twenty years and operated three
+steamers out of this port. He was a reserve officer in the German
+Navy; and when the war broke out he interned his ships, placed his
+entire estate in his wife's name and reported for duty. He perished in
+the Battle of Jutland, both his boys were killed at Verdun, and now
+his widow would like to sell the _Bavarian_ and get some cash. She had
+a large income from an estate in Germany, but the war cut that off.
+
+"Also, it appears that Koenitz was rather heavily involved, and the
+expense of maintaining those interned steamers, with their German
+crews aboard, has his widow badly worried; in fact, she has reached
+the point where she finds it necessary to sell one of the steamers in
+order to hang on to the other two. She has tried to raise a mortgage
+on the _Bavarian_, but nobody cares to loan money on an interned
+German steamer."
+
+"Naturally," Cappy replied sarcastically. "And I'm amazed that you
+should consider me boob enough to consider seriously buying the same
+steamer outright! Gus, I'd have about as much use for that steamer as
+I would have for a tail. Even if I should buy her now, and not use her
+until the war is over, I should be risking my money; for the German
+Government, if you remember, issued an order in 1915 forbidding its
+subjects to sell their interned ships without the consent of the said
+government. And, even if Mrs. Koenitz can procure the Kaiser's
+consent, I fail to see the wisdom of tying up three hundred thousand
+dollars in an idle investment."
+
+"Ah, but under those circumstances she wouldn't be an idle
+investment."
+
+"Yes, she would, my boy. Great Britain issued an Order in Council in
+1914 notifying all neutral nations that she would not sanction the
+transfer of registry of any German vessel. A few daring devils took a
+chance--and what happened? The British Navy overhauled the ships at
+sea and took them into a British port where a British prize court
+confiscated them. There is the case of the _Mazatlan_, for instance.
+She was German owned and flew the German flag; her owner put her under
+the Mexican flag, and subsequently she was sold at a bargain to one of
+our neighbors, who put her under American registry. Do you know where
+the _Mazatlan_ is now? Well, I'll tell you: She's freighting war
+munitions for Johnny Bull--and our optimistic neighbor isn't
+collecting the freight money either."
+
+"Quite true, Mr. Ricks; quite true--in ordinary cases," the Consul
+told him smilingly.
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet! I smell a mouse.  Hum-m-m! That
+simplifies matters. We-l-l! If you are in position, Mister Consul, to
+give me your word of honor as a gentleman and an officer of your king
+that the British Navy will turn its blind side to the _Bavarian_ when
+she puts to sea, I'll buy the _Bavarian_ so fast it'll make your head
+swim. In return for this favor, of course, I am to charter the ship at
+the going rates to--"
+
+"Our ally, the Russian Government, Mr. Ricks. And you have my word of
+honor, which is all I can give you; for a deal like this, as you know,
+cannot be made in writing. I have had the matter up with the
+Admiralty, however, and permission has been granted me to give the
+verbal assurance of my government."
+
+"I'll make a finger bet with your government, Mister Consul. As for
+Kaiser Bill's consent to the transfer--_heraus mit 'em!_ We'll get
+along without that. Wilhelm doesn't cut much ice with me these days
+and I'm willing to wager the price of the _Bavarian_ that such ice as
+he does cut will blame soon melt. Gus, you say Mrs. Koenitz wants to
+sell?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And she doesn't care who buys?"
+
+"Not a particle! She's sore on the Kaiser; it's been thumbs down on
+Wilhelm ever since Adolph and the boys lost the number of their mess.
+She says to me: 'Herr Riddle, dot Kaiser orders war like I order
+beer!' However, there's an 'if' to the transfer. While we know the
+British Navy will not bother us should we buy the steamer, still
+enthusiastic Britishers all over the world will have their eyes on the
+_Bavarian_ and clamor for her capture. Great Britain cannot
+publicly--or, at least, obviously--make any exceptions to her Order in
+Council, and we'll have to mess up that steamer's title and nativity
+to save John Bull's social standing. We must make a bluff at deceiving
+him. If we can show some sort of legal transfer to another flag J. B.
+can play blindman's buff with dignity and honor; otherwise nix!"
+
+Cappy Ricks' eyes sought the ceiling.
+
+"What have I done to deserve this?" he demanded of an invisible
+Presence. "Why am I afflicted thus? Job had his boils; but you and I,
+Augustus, are covered with a financial rash, bleeding at every pore,
+and with no relief in sight."
+
+"I told you this was a tough one, Cappy. I've pondered the situation
+until my brain is addled like a last year's nest egg, and finally I've
+come to you as a last resort. If you can't cook up an airtight scheme,
+then there is no help; and I'm going to forget the _Bavarian_ and
+attend to some business more profitable and less debilitating."
+
+"There must be an out, Gus. It's too good a thing to abandon. Suppose
+you and the Consul go away and give me time to concentrate my thoughts
+on this problem. It's a holy terror; but--Well, I've seen dogs almost
+as sick as this one cured."
+
+"God bless you!" Mr. Redell murmured fervently.  "Consul, let us
+depart and leave Mr. Ricks to himself. Call me up, Cappy, when you see
+a ray of light. Two heads are better than one, you know."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+
+
+
+
+When his visitors had gone Cappy Ricks gave orders that he was not to
+be disturbed on any pretext whatever. Then he locked himself in, swung
+his legs to the top of his desk, slid low in his chair until he rested
+on his spine, bowed his head on his breast and closed his eyes. The
+battle was on.
+
+One hour later J. Augustus Redell entered breathlessly in response to
+a telephonic invitation from Cappy.
+
+"Gus," the latter began, "am I right in assuming that you possess a
+reasonable amount of influence with that hair-trigger partner of
+yours, Live Wire Luiz?" Redell nodded. "And is Luiz absolutely
+trustworthy? Will he stay put and keep his mouth closed?"
+
+"He is my partner, Cappy. He's mercurial, but a gentleman. I'd trust
+him with my life, and I always trust him with my bank roll. He
+requires no watching."
+
+"Good! Gus, send Live Wire Luiz down to Guaymas and have him
+incorporate the North and South American Steamship Company there,
+under the extremely flexible and evershifting laws of the Republic of
+Mexico. Luiz is a Peruvian and speaks Spanish, and knows the Mexican
+temperament. He can easily procure three Mexicans to act as a dummy
+board of directors; his own name, of course, for obvious reasons, must
+never appear in connection with this company. A thousand dollars ought
+to cover this Mexican expense."
+
+"Consider that point attended to, Cappy."
+
+"Fine! Now then, when this corporate vehicle is in running order and
+has opened an office in Guaymas, Live Wire Luiz will write your
+company, The West Coast Trading Company, saying that his company has
+been referred to you by some mutual friends in Guaymas. Of course Luiz
+doesn't sign this letter. It is signed by the North and South American
+Steamship Company, per the dummy secretary or president. The letter
+goes on to say that the latter company is in the market for a steamer,
+the general specifications of which, singularly enough, fit the
+_Bavarian._ The vessel is to be used for transporting troops up and
+down the west coast of Mexico and for freighting munitions from Japan;
+and in a delicate way it might be hinted that the de facto Mexican
+Government is the real buyer. A commission of five per cent is offered
+you for buying the vessel for them, said commission to be split
+fifty-fifty with the North and South American Steamship Company; this
+being the Mexican way of doing business, as you know."
+
+"Consider that matter attended to also. I'll write the letter myself
+before Luiz starts for Guaymas, so I'll be certain the job will be
+done exactly right."
+
+"As soon as you receive this letter you get busy and wire the North
+and South American Steamship Company that you have just the vessel
+they want, price three hundred thousand dollars. Live Wire Luiz will
+then cause a reply to that telegram to be sent, advising you that his
+clients would not balk at paying half a million! That, of course, is
+hint enough for you. Right away you see the old Mexican graft sticking
+out, and you say to yourself, 'Why not?' And you do! You reply to that
+telegram, saying you erred when naming the price in your first
+telegram; that it is five hundred thousand instead of three. Then you
+come down to me and I hand you three hundred thousand dollars in
+currency; for in such a transaction as this, checks, with their
+indorsements, provide a trail that may prove embarrassing. You take
+that money and deposit it in escrow in any local bank against a bill
+of sale of the _Bavarian_ from Mrs. Koenitz to the North and South
+American Steamship Company, of Guaymas, Mexico. Before doing so,
+however, have Mrs. Koenitz place the vessel under Mexican registry.
+She can do that through the Mexican Consul for the de facto
+government; and when the bill of sale is turned over to you, record it
+promptly with the Mexican Consul. Later you will record it in Mexico.
+
+"The vessel is now the property of the North and South American
+Steamship Company; and the North and South American Steamship Company
+is the property of Cappy Ricks and the West Coast Trading Company, per
+Senor Felipe Luiz Almeida. But we must never admit this. To have the
+North and South American Steamship Company transfer the vessel to us
+would be very coarse work indeed; so we must avoid that."
+
+"How?"
+
+"I'll get to that presently. The steamer is now in our possession, and
+you will already have notified her German skipper and crew to hunt a
+new residence. You will then put an American skipper in charge and
+ship American engineers and a crew of parrakeets; and on the very day
+the sale is consummated, just before the customhouse closes, have the
+skipper clear the vessel for Guaymas and put to sea that night. Since
+she carries no cargo the collector of the port will not stop you; the
+risk of going to sea is all our own--if we care to take it.
+
+"The next day the newspaper boys will be hot on the trail. An interned
+German merchantman has suddenly transferred to Mexican registry and
+put to sea! Now! Inquiry at the customhouse and at the Mexican
+consulate shows that the vessel has been sold, and the trail leads
+straight to the office of the West Coast Trading Company. You are
+interviewed--and say nothing; and that day, when I appear on 'Change,
+these baffled journalists drive me into a corner and ask me what I
+think about it. And I'll tell them it's just another case of the lowly
+Mexican peon being hornswoggled by the foxy Americano. The Mexicans
+wanted a ship and asked the American to buy one for them. He did--only
+he forgot to tell them she was a German. She was such a good buy they
+snapped her up without asking questions, though in all probability the
+poor devils had no knowledge of Kaiser Wilhelm's edict that no German
+ships shall be sold without the consent of the German Government. I
+will say that it looks to me as if the ancient rule of _caveat emptor_
+applied, and that the Mexicans are stung and have no comeback. Then,
+again, it may be a shrewd German trick to put something over.
+
+"Well, they make a snorting story out of what I give them; the frau's
+friends read it and think she's done something smart. Nobody feels
+sorry for a Mexican. Next morning you come out with a blast of
+righteous indignation and admit that you cannot or will not deny that
+the vessel was sold to parties representing the de facto Mexican
+Government. You deny, however, that you sold them a pig in a poke; and
+the papers print a copy of your letter to the North and South American
+Steamship Company specifically advising them that the vessel was a
+German and liable to prove an embarrassment. This, of course, clears
+you, and the blame for the graft is placed where it belongs--on the
+shoulders of the North and South American Steamship Company, which has
+deliberately stung the de facto government!"
+
+"Cappy," said J. Augustus Redell admiringly, "you're immense!"
+
+"I accept the nomination. Upon her arrival in Guaymas the _Bavarian's_
+name is changed to _La Golondrina_, or _Sobre las Olas_, or _Manana_,
+or _Poco Tiempo_--whatever's right. I think we may safely gamble that
+she will arrive in Guaymas in the light of what the British Consul
+told us; and, in view of her departure unannounced, no British warship
+on the West Coast can get so far north as Guaymas in time to intercept
+her.
+
+"Well, having changed her name, she picks up a general cargo and comes
+back to San Francisco, where she goes on dry dock and is cleaned and
+painted, has her gear overhauled, fills up with fuel oil and stores,
+and--but that's enough. Now comes the blow-off.
+
+"Strange to relate, you haven't received a cent of that five-per-cent
+commission due you from the North and South American Steamship Company
+for buying the _Bavarian_ for them. The issue is in dispute. They
+claim you are not entitled to any commission, because you stung them
+with a German vessel; and you claim you told them she was a German,
+but that they needed her so badly they would take a chance. Also, the
+fact that she went to sea that time in such a hurry, and forgot to pay
+for her fuel oil and stores, looks rather suspicious; so, when the
+vessel comes off dry dock, with about ten thousand dollars' worth of
+bills against her, you decide to protect your claim for the
+commission--and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, Gus, you libel her!
+The news breaks into the papers, and next day every creditor of the
+ship files a libel on her, also, to protect his claim. Gus, she'll
+have so many plasters on her she'll look like a German coming home
+from the war."
+
+J. Augustus Redell leaped from his chair and picked little Cappy Ricks
+up in his arms and hugged him.
+
+"Oh, Cappy! Cappy!" he yelled. "You're the shadow of a rock in a weary
+land--a cup of cool water in the suburbs of hell!"
+
+"Are you game?" Cappy gurgled.
+
+"Does a cat eat liver? Cappy, you've solved the problem! Naturally the
+North and South American Steamship Company does not directly or
+indirectly make any attempt to lift these libels and get the vessel to
+sea. Why? I'll tell you--or, rather, I'll tell the newspaper boys and
+they'll tell everybody. It will appear that as soon as the Mexican
+Consul here got an inkling of the apparent plan of the North and South
+American Steamship Company, of Guaymas, to sting Don Venustiano
+Carranza by slipping him a steamer with a clouded title, he must have
+wired Don Venustiano to round up the directors of the said company and
+give them the _ley fuga_. Fortunately for these culprits, however,
+they got next in time to get out from under. Mounting swift steeds,
+the entire board of directors fled north and east, never pausing until
+they had joined Pancho Villa; and we learn from some Border gossips
+that all three subsequently were killed in action. But, before leaving
+Guaymas, they left their tangled steamship affairs in the hands of
+their attorney--"
+
+"Nothing doing, Gus! They left their tangled steamship affairs in the
+hands of my attorney, and they gave him an absolute, ironclad,
+airtight power of attorney to sell the ship, receive and receipt for
+all money due the company, and so on, and so on, ad libitum, ad
+infinitum; said power of attorney being nonrevocable for five years."
+
+"Great stuff! In due course the libelants sue in the United States
+District Court; your attorney appears for the defendants and confesses
+judgment, but pleads for a ten-day stay of execution until he can
+raise a mortgage on the vessel. But, strange to relate, the ten-day
+stay expires and the judgments against the steamer are not paid; so
+the judge of the United States District Court orders the steamer sold
+at public auction on the floor of the Merchants' Exchange to the
+highest bidder, to satisfy the claims of the creditors. Thirty days
+later the United States Marshal conducts the sale, and a gentleman
+named Cappy Ricks buys her in. The United States Marshal gives the
+said Ricks a bill of sale for her, which the said Ricks thereupon
+records in the United States Customhouse, and--"
+
+"_Und Hoch der Kaiser! Und Hoch der_ John J.  Bull! We've finally got
+that clear American title we've been looking for. It makes no
+difference what the nationality of a vessel is; the minute she enters
+the territorial waters of the United States of America she is amenable
+to the laws of the United States of America, one of which reads
+thusly: 'Thou shalt pay thy bills; and if thou dost not, then _poco
+tiempo_ thou shalt be made to pay them, even unto the seizure and sale
+of thy ship.' And with the purchase of that ship, under an order of
+sale issued by the United States District Court, she becomes a United
+States ship; we register her as such; and the United States simply has
+to stand back of the bill of sale it gave us. Germany knows that;
+England knows it; Austria knows it; and from the jackstaff of the late
+_Bavarian_, now renamed the _Alden M. Peasley_, in honor of my first
+grandson, there floats--"
+
+J. Augustus Redell raised his index finger, enjoining silence:
+
+"Now then! One, two, three! Down, left, up!
+
+
+     _"O-ho, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
+         What so-ho pro-houdly we hailed at the twilight's last
+            gleaming?"_
+
+Cappy Ricks sprang to attention. Presently, through the partition,
+his cracked old voice reached Mr. Skinner:
+
+
+     _"Then conquer we must, when our cause is so just;
+         And this be our motto: 'May we nev-er go bust!'"_
+
+"What's doing here?" Mr. Skinner demanded, banging at the door,
+which was locked.
+
+"Go way back and sit down!" Cappy shrilled. "I'll show you and Matt
+Peasley where to head in, yet--see if I don't!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+
+
+
+
+Cappy Ricks and J. Augustus Redell arrived at the Merchants'
+Exchange promptly at one o'clock on the date of the sale of the S.
+S. _General Carranza,_ as the _Bavarian_ was now called.
+Just inside the door they paused and looked at each other.
+
+"Whe-e-e-ew!" murmured Cappy Ricks. "All the shipping men in the
+world are here to bid on our property, Gus."
+
+Mr. Redell whistled softly. "This," he said, "will be some auction!"
+
+Cappy chuckled.
+
+"There is only one thing that a shipping man in this country has
+more respect for than an Order in Council--and that is an Order in
+the United States District Court!"
+
+"Naturally. It's backed up by our army and navy."
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, somebody's sporting  blood is going
+to be tested today; and something tells, me, Augustus, my dear
+young friend, that it's going to be Matt Peasley's."
+
+"What makes you think so, Cappy?"
+
+Again Cappy chuckled.
+
+"Having used German methods to bring about this auction sale," he
+confessed, "I concluded to steal a little more of this Teutonic stuff;
+so I established a system of espionage in Skinner's office and another
+in Matt Peasley's. Gus, I got a lot of low-down information on those
+two young pups; they're trying to slip something over on the old dog."
+
+"Well, they'll never teach him any new tricks, Cappy."
+
+"You know it! I observe that, as usual, Jim Searles will conduct the
+auction. He's climbing up on the block now, and, by the Toenails of
+Moses, Matt Peasley is on the job! Look, Gus! You can see his black
+head sticking up out of the heart of the riot."
+
+As Cappy and Redell joined the crowd Jim Searles, by acclamation the
+auctioneer of the Port of San Francisco, rapped smartly with his
+little gavel, and a tense silence settled over the crowd.
+
+"This," Mr. Searles announced, "will be a fight to a finish, winner
+take all. In accordance with an order of the United States District
+Court I am about to sell, at public auction, to the highest bidder,
+the Mexican Steamship _General Carranza_, ex-German Steamship
+_Bavarian_, to satisfy the following judgments: Mr. J. Augustus
+Redell--"
+
+"Cut it out!" roared Matt Peasley. "We've all read the list of
+creditors, and you're only gumming up the game. Come down to business
+Jim."
+
+"Good boy, Peasley! Sure! Cut it out, Jim! Get busy!" A dozen voices
+seconded Captain Matt Peasley's motion and Jim Searles rapped for
+order.
+
+"How much am I offered?" he cried.
+
+"One million dollars!" roared Matt Peasley.
+
+On the fringe of the eager crowd Cappy Ricks leaned up against his
+friend Redell and commenced to laugh.
+
+"The young scoundrel!" he chortled. "He never said a word to me about
+this auction; he was afraid I'd butt in and block his purchase; so,
+for his impudence, I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget. Bid,
+Gus! Bet 'em as high as a hound's back."
+
+"Captain Matt Peasley, representing the Blue Star Navigation Company,
+bids one million dollars. Chicken feed! Won't some real sport please
+tilt the ante?" Jim Searles pleaded. "Don't waste my time, gentlemen.
+It's valuable. Let's get this thing over and go back to our offices."
+
+"One million five hundred thousand!" called J.  Augustus Redell.
+
+"I called for a sport and drew a piker," Jim Searles retorted. "Mr. J.
+Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, bids a million and
+a half."
+
+Young Dalton Mann, representing the Pacific Mail Steamship Company,
+raised his hand and snapped his fingers at the auctioneer.
+
+"And a hundred thousand!" he shouted.
+
+"And a hundred thousand!" Matt Peasley retorted.
+
+"And fifty thousand!" Mann flung back at him.
+
+Matt Peasley eyed his antagonist belligerently.
+
+"That's doing very well for a young fellow," Searles complimented the
+last bidder. "Skipper Peasley, are you going to let this landlubber
+outgame you? He has bid a million and three-quarters. Think of the
+present high freight rates and speak up, or remain forever silent."
+
+The bidding had so suddenly and by such prodigious bounds reached the
+elimination point that every piker present was afraid to open his
+mouth in the presence of these plungers. Matt Peasley licked his lips
+and glanced round rather helplessly. He knew he had about reached the
+limit of his bidding, but he suspected that Mann had reached his also.
+
+"And ten thousand!" he shouted desperately.
+
+"Cheap stuff! Cheap stuff!" the crowd jeered good-naturedly.
+
+Cappy Ricks nudged J. Augustus Redell as Mann waved his hand in token
+of surrender. "One million seven hundred and sixty thousand I am
+offered," the auctioneer intoned. "Any further bids?" He waited a full
+minute; then resorted to three minutes of cajolery, but in vain. There
+were no more bids.
+
+Jim Searles raised his hammer.
+
+"Going--once!" he called--and waited. "Going--twice!" Another pause.
+"Going--"
+
+"Two million dollars!" cried J. Augustus Redell; and a sigh went up
+from the excited onlookers.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Redell is a sport, after all! Two million, flat!" Searles
+looked down on Matt Peasley. "Die, dog, or eat the meat ax!" he warned
+the unhappy young man.
+
+"Let him have her," Matt growled; and, very red of face, he commenced
+to shoulder his way through the crowd.
+
+"Beat it, Cappy; he's coming!" Redell warned the president emeritus.
+
+Cappy Ricks, dodging round the flank of the crowd, fled through the
+side entrance of the Merchants' Exchange; and he was tranquilly
+smoking a cigar in his private office when Matt Peasley dropped in on
+him an hour later. Cappy eyed him coldly.
+
+"Is Skinner back from luncheon?" he demanded.  Matt nodded. "Tell him
+to come in here. I want to see him," Cappy continued ominously. "And
+you might stick round yourself."
+
+Mr. Skinner made his appearance.
+
+[Illustration: "Two million dollars'" cried J Augustus Redell.]
+
+"Close the door," Cappy commanded.
+
+Mr. Skinner looked a little startled and surprised, but promptly
+closed the door.
+
+"You wanted to see me, Mr. Ricks?" he queried.
+
+Cappy Ricks edged forward until he was seated on the extreme edge of
+his chair. Then he rested a hand on each knee, bent his head, and
+glared at the unhappy Skinner over the rims of his glasses. After
+thirty seconds of this scrutiny he turned to his son-in-law.
+
+"Well," he said, "I hear you've been attending an auction sale and
+making a star-spangled monkey of yourself bidding a million seven
+hundred and sixty thousand dollars on that Mexican steamer. Matt, have
+you taken leave of your senses?"
+
+"No, sir--not quite; but Gus Redell has. He bought her in for two
+million dollars. Of course he was acting for somebody else, because
+every cent he has is working overtime in the West Coast Trading
+Company."
+
+"Oh!" Cappy murmured. "Then you didn't get her, after all?"
+
+"No, sir! So perhaps you'd better not holler until you're hit." Matt
+sighed. "By Neptune," he declared, "I'd give a cooky to know the name
+of the crazy man who paid two million dollars for that steamer!"
+
+"Behold the lunatic, Matt! Grandpa Ricks, in his second childhood! Gus
+Redell was bidding for me, sonny."
+
+Matt Peasley sat down rather limply and stared at the president
+emeritus.
+
+"Cappy," he said presently, "you sent a boy to do a man's work. I had
+the boat bought for a million seven hundred and sixty thousand! For
+heaven's sake, why didn't you tell me you wanted her? And I would have
+laid off. For the love of heaven, why did you go bidding against me?"
+
+"Why didn't you tell me you wanted her, you big simp?" Cappy retorted.
+"You never said a word to me; and naturally Redell thought you were
+acting for somebody else. He had orders from me to get her and damn
+the cost--and he fulfilled his orders."
+
+"A comedy of errors, truly!" Mr. Skinner observed witheringly.
+
+Matt Peasley raised his huge arms and clenched his great fists in
+agony.
+
+"Oh, Cappy! Cappy!" he pleaded. "Won't you please retire? You're just
+raising hell with the organization!"
+
+"All right, Matt; I'll retire. But, before I do, I'm going to give
+Skinner a piece of my mind. Skinner, what the devil do you mean by
+going up to the Marine National Bank and borrowing a million dollars
+on the credit of the Ricks Lumber Company? I admit I have given you
+entire charge of the lumber end, and you were quite within your rights
+when you negotiated the loan and signed the note as president; but how
+did it happen that you didn't consult with the old man, if only as a
+matter of common courtesy?"
+
+"I-I-that is, I-well, I didn't mean to be discourteous, Mr. Ricks. Oh,
+I wouldn't have you think, sir--"
+
+"No; you'd have me be a dummy if you could. Why, you almost put the
+skids under me; because, when I went up to the Marine National to make
+a little personal loan in a spirit of preparedness, I discovered that
+the loan you had been given on my assets had jazzed my personal credit
+all to glory! I used to be able to borrow a million dollars on my bare
+note; but I'll be shot if they didn't make me dig up a lot of
+collateral this time! Skinner, I wouldn't have thought that of you.
+After trusting you as I have done for a quarter of a century, to find
+you giving me the double-cross just about breaks my heart. Great
+Godfrey, Skinner, how could you be so false to me? I expect that sort
+of thing from Matt--those one loves the best always swat one; but from
+you--Skinner, I don't know what prevents me from demanding your
+resignation here and now, unless it be because of your previous
+splendid character and loyal service."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks, Mr. Ricks!" Poor Skinner held up his hands appealingly
+and commenced to weep. "Please do not think ill of me. I swear--"
+
+"You loaned the Ricks Lumber Logging Company's million dollars to Matt
+Peasley to help buy that steamer for the Blue Star Navigation Company;
+and he, the son of a pirate, went to work and borrowed it from you,
+well knowing he had no business to do so. What are you paying the
+Marine National for that money?"
+
+"Five per cent," Skinner sniffled, for his heart was broken.
+
+"What are you soaking the Blue Star Navigation Company for it?"
+
+"Six," Skinner confessed miserably.
+
+"That's all right, Skinner, my boy. Cheer up! I forgive you. That
+little profit of one per cent saves your bacon, boy. I guess there's
+some good left in you still; and I'm happy to have this evidence that,
+though I own both companies, you have not forgotten you are
+responsible for the profit-and-loss account of one of them, and Matt
+Peasley for the other. You did quite right to claim that one per cent
+jerk from Matt. Business is business!"
+
+"Yes, you bet it is!" Matt Peasley struck in. "And I want you to lay
+off on Skinner, because what he did was done in fear and trembling,
+and under duress. We were both afraid you'd block the purchase; so we
+agreed to keep our plans secret from you, because--Well, somehow I did
+want that bully big boat the very worst way."
+
+"And that's exactly the way you set about getting her, Matthew.
+However, you're young--you don't know any better; so I forgive you. Of
+course I realized you wanted, that steamer, boy. I knew your heart was
+set on seeing our house flag floating from her mainstruck; so I--Well,
+I just thought I'd get her for you, to sort of square myself for those
+two bonehead plays I pulled earlier in the year."
+
+"Oh, but you shouldn't have paid two millions for her, Cappy! Business
+is one thing and sentiment is another."
+
+"Why, I didn't pay any such price for her!  Originally I bought her,
+as a German, for three hundred thousand dollars; in addition to that
+I've spent about ten thousand dollars improving her, and maybe five
+thousand more fussing up the trail of my operations so no smart
+secret-service operative could come round and hang something on me."
+He reached into his coat pocket and drew forth the United States
+Marshal's bill of sale. "Here, sonny," he announced, "is your Uncle
+Sam's certificate of title. Hustle up to the customhouse and get it
+recorded; then make out a bill of sale for a one-third interest to the
+West Coast Trading Company and record that also. Then change her name
+to _Alden M. Peasley_, in honor of your first-born, and put her under
+these two flags."
+
+He jerked open a drawer in the desk and brought forth a bright new
+edition of Old Glory, followed by the familiar white muslin burgee
+with the blue star.
+
+"Skinner!"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"The United States Marshal has paid all the debts of the _Alden M.
+Peasley_, and this afternoon he'll send his check for the proceeds of
+the sale still remaining in his hands to my lawyer, who holds a most
+ungodly power of attorney from that dummy Guaymas corporation Live
+Wire Luiz organized to buy the ship for us. Our attorney will cash
+that check and send the cash down to you. Please bank it to my credit
+and take up that note I gave the Marine National; then get the
+securities I hocked and tuck them back in my safe-deposit vault. As
+for the interest at five per cent, which the Ricks Lumber & Logging
+Company will have to pay on that million you borrowed to help Matt
+Peasley hornswoggle father, you just charge that to your personal
+account as a penance for your sins. As for the six per cent you pay
+the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company for the money loaned your Blue Star
+Navigation Company, Matt Peasley, just charge that to your personal
+account as a penance for your sins."
+
+Both culprits nodded dazedly.
+
+"Now," Cappy continued, "I'll tell you something else: The _Alden M.
+Peasley_ belongs to the West Coast Trading Company and Alden P. Ricks;
+they own one-third for bringing the deal to my attention and
+furnishing some labor, and I own two-thirds, or the lion's share, for
+doing a lion's work--to wit, putting up the cash and promoting the
+deal to a clean title. Consequently, though you two boys own a nice
+little block of stock in the Blue Star Navigation Company, you don't
+own a red cent in the _Alden M. Peasley_, because she doesn't belong
+to the Blue Star Navigation Company, but to the president emeritus
+thereof. However, as I am about to retire for keeps this time, I'll
+tell you what I purpose doing with my two-thirds of the _Alden M.
+Peasley_: Skinner, my dear boy, I kidded you into tears. Bless you,
+boy, it broke your heart when you thought your old boss figured you'd
+quit being Faithful Fido, didn't it? Skinner, loyalty like yours is
+very, very precious; and your affection is--er--Skinner, you human
+icicle, you can't bluff me! I'm on to you, young feller! Matt, you
+prepare a deed of gift for one-half of my two-thirds interest to
+Skinner, and take the other half for yourself; and when the _Alden M.
+Peasley_ has earned what I put into her, credit my account with it.
+After that, you and Skinner and Gus Redell and Live Wire Luiz can
+collect the dividends."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ricks! This is too much," Skinner began.
+
+"Tut, tut, sir! Not a peep out of you, sir! How dare you argue with
+me? Now just one word more before you fellers go: The next time you
+boys go bidding on a ship at auction, take a leaf out of Cappy Ricks'
+book and bid against yourself! You can always scare the other fellows
+off that way; the sky is the limit--and you're bound to get your money
+back. So you should _Ish ka bibble_.
+
+"Now you two young freshies go back to your desks and try to learn
+humility. Thus endeth the first lesson, my children."
+
+Matt Peasley came close to Cappy and put his big arm round the little
+old man.
+
+"Cappy," he whispered, "please don't retire!"
+
+"All right, son," Cappy answered; "but get that infernal cry-baby,
+Skinner, out of my office. He's breaking my heart."
+
+If J. Augustus Redell had been content to sue for peace following his
+deal with Cappy in Australian wheat, all would have been well for that
+young man. Alas! As we have already stated, he was young--and there is
+an old saying to the effect that youth must be served. J. Augustus
+Redell, like Oliver Twist, desired more. His triumph over Cappy in the
+wheat deal merely whetted his desire for more of the Ricks blood, and
+in the end the ingenious rascal evolved a plan for making Cappy the
+laughing stock of the Bilgewater Club for a month of Sundays.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+
+
+
+
+MONSIEUR LE CAPITAINE RICKS
+
+Cappy Ricks entered his office at the unheard-of hour of eight-
+thirty. On his way to his sanctum at the end of the long suite of
+offices Cappy paused in the lair of Mr. Skinner, who looked up,
+amazed.
+
+"Hello!" he saluted the president emeritus. "What brings you down on
+the job so early this morning, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"I've got a hen on," Cappy replied briskly. He glanced at Skinner and
+rubbed his hands together. "Skinner, my dear boy," he continued, "this
+is a one-horse concern."
+
+"Three sawmills with a combined output of a million feet a day on a
+ten-hour shift--not to mention a billion feet of stumpage--isn't my
+idea of a one-horse concern," Mr. Skinner retorted with some asperity.
+
+"Tut, tut, Skinner! I'm not referring to the lumber end at all; so
+don't get touchy. I'm referring to the Blue Star Navigation Company.
+It's a dinky proposition.
+
+"Forty-two vessels--windjammers, steam schooners and foreign-going
+freighters--" began Mr. Skinner; but Cappy cut him short:
+
+"Foreign-going grandmothers! We've got the _Narcissus_  and the
+_Tillicum_."
+
+"How about my boat--the _John P. Skinner?_"
+
+"Oh, yes! That one we scraped up off the bottom of Papeete Harbor,"
+Cappy answered maliciously. "Well, that makes three; and really the
+_Skinner_ and the _Narcissus_ are the only vessels built to go
+foreign. Remember, Skinner, we built the _Tillicum_, for the
+coast-wise lumber trade, even though she's so big our competitors
+thought when we launched her we were crazy to build such a whale for
+that trade."
+
+"Well, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"We ought to have more big bottoms, Skinner.  We'll have hell-
+cracking freight rates during the war and for a long time
+thereafter--and here we sit round like a lot of dubs, too conservative
+to help ourselves to the gravy. Why, you and Matt Peasley ought to be
+knitting socks in an old ladies' home, for all the progressiveness
+you're displaying."
+
+"I am not in charge of the shipping end, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"No; but you've got a tongue in your head, haven't you? You were
+practically in charge of the Blue Star for more than six months--
+during the entire period Matt was at sea in the _Retriever_ and we
+thought he was a goner. Why, dog-gone you, Skinner, even when you
+thought Matt was dead you didn't suggest increasing the fleet. I'm
+surprised, Skinner, my boy, that in my old age, after gathering a lot
+of young fellows round me to carry on the business, I've still got to
+be the bell mare!"
+
+Mr. Skinner had nothing to say to this; if he had it is doubtful
+whether he would have said it, for he had been too long with Cappy
+Ricks not to know the signs when the old gentleman took the bit in his
+teeth and declared for a new deal.
+
+"I'm going into my office to do some tall thinking, Skinner," Cappy
+continued. "Remember! No visitors until I've threshed this whole
+business out to my satisfaction. I'm not in to anybody."
+
+Cappy retired to his office, sat down on his spine in his upholstered
+swivel chair, swung his thin old shanks to the top of his desk, bowed
+his head on his breast, and closed his eyes. Scarcely had he done so
+when the door opened and Matt Peasley thrust his head in.
+
+"Well, Matt?" Cappy queried without opening his eyes.
+
+"I have an offer of forty thousand dollars for our old bark _Altair_,
+Cappy. What do you think we ought to do?"
+
+"Take it!" Cappy shrilled. "You jibbering jackdaw!  Grab it! She's
+been a failure since the day I built her; never balanced, always
+burying her nose in the seas, and drowning a sailor about once a year.
+If we keep that ship much longer she'll sail herself under some day
+and we'll be out the forty thousand. _Altair!_ Fancy name! Skinner got
+it out of Ben Hur. He'd been in the shipping game ten years then and
+hadn't learned that was the name of a star! We should have called her
+the _Water Spaniel_. Sell her, Matt, and we'll put the money into a
+steamer that can run foreign."
+
+"If you can tell me where we can buy, even at three times her
+intrinsic value, a steamer that will run foreign, I'm willing to
+consider selling the _Altair_. Just at present she's earning big
+dividends; and until we can find a place to invest her selling price,
+the money will earn six per cent instead of sixty, as at present."
+
+"Clear out and let me think!" Cappy commanded, and Matt Peasley
+retired to Mr. Skinner's office.
+
+"Have you noticed the old gentleman lately?" he inquired of Skinner.
+"Ever since his grandson arrived grandpa has been paying attention to
+business."
+
+"He's dissatisfied with his own and our efforts thus far. He thinks
+he's been a piker and that you and I are his first-assistant pikers.
+He has ships on the brain."
+
+"He's getting pretty cocky," Matt agreed; "but, at that, I guess he
+has a license to be."
+
+"I've been with him twenty-six--yes,  twenty-seven--years; and I know
+him, Matt. He's cooking up something prodigious--and it will soon be
+done."
+
+The door of Cappy's office opened and Cappy stood in the entrance.
+
+"Skinner," he ordered, "get me a letter of credit for about twenty
+thousand dollars. I'm going travelling."
+
+"Where?" Matt and Skinner queried in chorus.
+
+"To Europe."
+
+"You're not!" Matt Peasley declared. "You're liable to be torpedoed en
+route."
+
+"I know, but then, too, I'm liable not to be; and if I am, why, I'm an
+old man, and I'll only be cheating the devil by a few years or a few
+months. Come in here, you two dead ones."
+
+They followed him into his office.
+
+"We need some steamers," Cappy announced. "Every shipyard in the
+United States that could build the kind of steamer we want is full up
+with contracts for the next three years; so I'm going to Norway or
+Sweden or Denmark, or some non-belligerent European country, and see
+whether I can't place some contracts there for a couple of real
+freighters. Then, too, I may be able to pick up good vessels over
+there at a reasonable price. Under the Emergency Shipping Act we can
+get them provisional American registry--and that's all we need. Before
+a great while Uncle Sam is going to turn his antiquated shipping laws
+inside out, and any foreign-built boats we may acquire now will be
+given the right to run in the coastwise trade also."
+
+"See here, Cappy," Matt reminded the old man; "you're retired and I'm
+in charge of the destinies of the Blue Star Navigation Company. I
+don't want you working yourself to death."
+
+"You mean you don't want me butting in. Nonsense!  What's the use of
+having a grandson if a fellow doesn't hustle up something for the boy
+to sharpen his teeth on when he grows up? Here I've been living from
+day to day, just marking time on the road to eternity and figuring
+life wasn't worth while because the stock was going to die out with
+me. Up until recently I was content with a little old one-horse
+business; but now, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, boy, we've got to
+get out and shake a leg! Freighters! That's what we want. Big,
+well-decked tramps, flying the Stars and Stripes in every port on
+earth. Why, what kind of a nation are we getting to be, anyway? We're
+a passel of mollycoddles, asleep on the job. We haven't half enough
+ships to coal our navy. In the event of war it would take us a week to
+dig up ships enough to transport the New York Police Department. I
+tell you, Matt, when I'm gone you'll have to have something for that
+grandson of mine to do or he'll grow up into one of these idle-rich,
+ne'er-do-well, two-for-a-quarter dudes. You bet I've been doing a deal
+of thinking lately. We can't send that boy to college, and spoil him
+before he's twenty-five. We'll run that young man through high school;
+just about that time he'll begin to get snobbish and we'll take that
+out of him by sending him to sea as a cadet on one of our own ships.
+We'll teach him democracy--that's what we'll teach him. When he's
+twenty-one he'll be a skipper like his forebears and you'll be only
+about forty-six. Good Lord! To think of you two young fellows running
+my Blue Star ships--and not enough ships to keep you busy!
+Preposterous! I can't consider--Well, Hankins, my dear boy, what's
+troubling you?"
+
+Mr. Hankins, the secretary, had entered.
+
+"I wanted to see Mr. Skinner a moment. I'll wait.  Didn't know you
+were busy."
+
+And he started to retire. Cappy checked him: "Finish with Skinner,
+Hankins. He'll be in consultation here with Matt and me for an hour
+yet."
+
+"I just wanted to know, Mr. Skinner, whether all those cablegrams to
+Captain Landry, of the _Altair_, are to be charged to general expense,
+Captain Landry's personal account, or to the _Altair_."
+
+"It seems to me you should charge them to Captain Landry, Hankins,"
+Mr. Skinner spoke up. "It isn't ship's business and it isn't Blue Star
+business. If he wants this office to cable him every day about his
+family--"
+
+"Here! What's this you're talking about, Skinner?" Cappy interrupted.
+
+"When Captain Landry sailed for Callao his wife didn't accompany
+him--"
+
+"Lucky rascal! He told me he was expecting an heir."
+
+"And he's still expecting that heir."
+
+"Naturally," Mr. Hankins explained, "he's been anxious for news; and
+ever since his arrival in Callao he's cabled us every other
+day--latterly every day--asking whether the baby has been born, and
+whether it's a boy or a girl."
+
+"A very pardonable human curiosity, my boy. Proceed."
+
+"Unfortunately the baby appears to be held up on demurrage and I think
+we've spent at least fifty dollars cabling to Landry that the
+youngster has failed to report. I imagine the skipper has spent twice
+that sum inquiring for news--"
+
+"Of course! It's his first baby, isn't it? You must allow for human
+nature."
+
+"I thought we would--for the first half dozen cablegrams; but after it
+became a habit it appeared that Landry ought to pay for his fancies."
+
+"He should," Mr. Skinner declared firmly. "Charge the cablegrams to
+Landry."
+
+"Nothing doing!" piped Cappy. "Charge 'em to general expense. Dang
+you, Skinner, I despair of ever breaking you of that habit of
+operating on the cheap!"
+
+"Oh, very well, sir--only the expense is getting to be quite an item."
+
+"I'm just about to send him another cablegram," Mr.  Hankins declared
+fretfully. "The _Altair_ is due to sail from Callao and the baby is
+still unborn; it will be two months old, at least, before the skipper
+gets any further news."
+
+"Let's see your cablegram," Cappy ordered, and Mr.  Hankins passed it
+over. Cappy read it. "Holy suffering sailor!" he cried. "Why this
+concern isn't in the hands of a receiver is a mystery to me." He
+looked up at Mr. Hankins with blood in his eye. "Here you are,
+Hankins, trying to saddle a bill of expense on a poor, heartbroken,
+anxious, embryo parent-to-be. Knowing full well that he only makes a
+hundred and fifty dollars a month, you admit to an endeavor to stick
+him for fifty dollars' worth of cablegrams from this end, not to
+mention those from his end. If you had spent your time, sir, figuring
+out a way to cut down that cable expense, instead of discovering a
+rotten way to get rid of it--Why, look here! You can use your code
+book and save a couple of dollars."
+
+"Code book!" Mr. Hankins protested indignantly.  "Why, who ever heard
+of a code book for cabling on baby business?"
+
+"Use your shipping code. Here; hand me that code book. There's bound
+to be something to fit the occasion--there always is. Hum-m-m! Ahem!
+Harumph-h-h! Let us see what we shall see under the head of cargoes;
+Loading! Discharging! Demurrage! Ahem! That won't do. He'd be liable
+to confuse it with the ship's business. Harumph-h-h! Arrivals. Now we
+have it. Landry has been asking of an expected arrival, hasn't he?"
+Cappy ran his index finger down the page. "Here you are, Hankins.
+Hum-m-m! Afilamos--meaning no new arrivals. Naturally Landry will say
+to himself: 'Well, for heaven's sake, when will that child arrive?' We
+should enlighten him on that point."
+
+"We cannot."
+
+"Very well, then. Say so. Here you are. Affumicata--meaning: We cannot
+guarantee time of arrival. Hankins, have you talked with Mrs. Landry's
+physician in order to get the latest ringside reports?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What does he say?"
+
+"Well, he says he thinks it will be twins, in a couple of days at the
+most."
+
+"Good news! Here you are. Afilaba--meaning: Heavy arrivals expected
+shortly. Now then, Hankins, he'll want some news of his wife, won't
+he? How about her?"
+
+"She went to the hospital this morning."
+
+Cappy closed his eyes and pondered; then once more took up the code
+book. Followed a silence. Then:
+
+"Bully! He'll understand perfectly, being a sailor.  Desdoble--
+meaning: Is now in dry dock. And, of course, Landry will want to know
+whether his wife is in any danger. Danger! Danger! Ships are sometimes
+in danger. When? When they're wrecked, of course. Let us look under
+the head of wrecks... No; nothing seems to fill the bill. Wreck,
+wrecked, worse, writ, write, wrong--ah, I have it! Wohlgemuth--
+meaning: There is nothing wrong." He looked up at Mr. Hankins. "Now
+there's the kind of cablegram to send--even on baby business. Those
+four code words translated mean: No new arrivals; heavy arrivals
+expected shortly; is now in dry dock; there is nothing wrong.
+Literally translated it means: Baby not born yet; twins expected
+shortly; your wife now in hospital; everything lovely! I suppose,
+Hankins, you have carbon copies of all these cablegrams you've been
+sending?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Code them all, so far as possible, and ascertain how much money you
+might have saved the Blue Star by the exercise of a little common
+sense; then charge the cablegrams, on the coded basis, to our general
+expense, and charge to your personal account the sum you might have
+saved by the exercise of the ingenuity and efficiency I have a right
+to expect of a man who draws down as fat a salary as you do."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+
+
+
+
+Mr. Hankins withdrew, greatly crestfallen, and the despot of the Blue
+Star office turned to his trusted lieutenants.
+
+"Well," he declared, "one after the other you have to come to the old
+man to be shown. I guess I've proved to you two boys this morning that
+I'm to be trusted with buying a few ships and letting contracts for a
+few more, haven't I?"
+
+"I don't like the idea of Cappy Ricks on a steamer that's likely to be
+torpedoed. I don't want you to go to Europe alone--"
+
+"I'm not going alone. Captain Mike Murphy, our new port captain, is
+going with me. I wouldn't think of buying a steamer unless that
+splendid fellow O.K.'d the hull. And Terry Reardon, our new port
+engineer, will accompany me also. Terry has to O.K. the engines.
+Between the three of us, it's going to take a smart trader to sell us
+any junk, I'm telling you!"
+
+"I ought to go with you," Matt suggested.
+
+"You have your work at home, attending to the fleet. It isn't much of
+a fleet, I'll admit; but such as it is it requires some attention.
+I'll be the chief scout of this organization and see whether I can't
+rustle up some major-league vessels from some of those bush-league
+European owners."
+
+"I've had a fine time getting good men to take their places in the
+_Narcissus_ since you promoted Mike and Terry in my absence!" Matt
+complained. "Mike and Terry know her well--and she's such a big brute
+to handle."
+
+"Where is the _Narcissus_, by the way?"
+
+"Loading nitrate at Tocopilla and Antofagasta, Chile. This is her last
+voyage under the old charter."
+
+"Got any new business in sight for her?"
+
+"I won't have the slightest difficulty getting another nitrate charter
+and at a rate double what she's been getting."
+
+"Every vessel taken off the nitrate run stiffens the freight rate in
+these days, when they have to have so much nitrate in the manufacture
+of war munitions," the astute Cappy declared. "If I were you, Matt,
+I'd find her a good outside cargo or two, and then slip her back in
+the nitrate business again. Freights may have advanced in the
+interim."
+
+"I have a mighty profitable cargo offered me this morning, Cappy. An
+agent of the British Government called on me and offered a whopping
+price for carrying a cargo of mules and horses from Galveston to
+Havre. I think I shall turn the proposition down. It's too dangerous,
+Cappy."
+
+"You mean we might have our ship blown up by a German submarine?"
+
+Matt nodded.
+
+"Well, we'd collect our freight in advance, wouldn't we? And the
+British Government will guarantee to reimburse us if the ship is lost,
+will it not? Well, then, where's the risk?"
+
+"There's the danger to the crew."
+
+"Any man that goes to sea knows he has to take a chance. Bet you Mike
+Murphy could take that cargo of livestock across and bring another
+cargo back. He's luckier than a cross-eyed coon. And another thing,
+Matt: If you accept that business we can kill two birds with one
+stone--yes, three--because Mike and Terry and I will cross over on the
+_Narcissus_ and save the price of transportation from here to New
+York, and from New York to Liverpool. Then, while the _Narcissus_ is
+discharging and taking on another cargo, we'll go scouting for
+available steamers."
+
+"It might be done, though I hate to think of it Cappy. If we lose the
+vessel they'll pay us a million and a half for her, of course--and
+she cost us less than three hundred thousand a year ago. And, as you
+say, we'll collect the freight in advance. They're very anxious to get
+the _Narcissus_. She's a whopping big boat, and that's the kind of a
+vessel they need for a horse transport."
+
+"Yes; and, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it will be a bully vacation,
+and a bully vacation is something I haven't had since the night of the
+big wind in Ireland. Moreover, I combine business with pleasure, which
+is always desirable; and, if that isn't excuse enough, I want to tell
+you it's cheaper to travel dead-head on our own boats than to pay for
+three round-trip tickets to Europe on a Cunard liner."
+
+"But suppose a German submarine--"
+
+"Matt, all my life I've played a quiet, safe, sane, conservative game.
+I've always longed for adventure and never had it. Why, just consider
+a moment what a tiresome thing life would be were it not for the
+prospect of death at any moment! That's all that keeps us hustling, my
+boy--trying to put over a winning run before the game is called on
+account of darkness. Hell's bells! Don't try to scare me with a sheet
+and the rattle of old bones. Suppose they do blow us up? We don't lose
+a dollar; in fact, we make money--and we can take to the boats, can't
+we?"
+
+"They only give you fifteen minutes--"
+
+"We'll have the boats swung overside, provisioned and ready, two days
+ahead."
+
+"But they don't care how far out to sea they leave you. I spent two
+weeks in an open boat once and I know you can't stand two days. The
+exposure--"
+
+"When we get down to Galveston," Cappy interrupted  triumphantly,
+"I'll have Mike Murphy buy a nice, staunch little secondhand motor
+cruiser, thirty-eight or forty feet long, with plenty of power and
+comfortable living accommodations for half a dozen people. Mike will
+arrange for extra oil and gasoline tankage, and we'll swing this
+cruiser in on the main deck and let it rest there in a cradle, with
+the slings round it, ready to lift overside with the cargo derricks at
+a minute's notice. I'll be as snug in that little cruiser as a bug
+under a chip--and we'll tow the lifeboats. So that settles it--and if
+it doesn't I'd like to know who's the boss of this shebang, anyhow!"
+
+Mr. Skinner glanced covertly at Captain Matt Peasley  and shook his
+head almost imperceptibly, as who should say: "Better give in to him,
+Matt. I know him longer than you do; he'll have his way if it kills
+him." And Matt took the hint, with the result that some six weeks
+later Cappy Ricks, accompanied by his faithful port captain and his
+equally faithful port engineer, cleared for Galveston aboard the
+Sunset Limited. And at Galveston began the only real vacation Cappy
+Ricks had ever had.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LI
+
+
+
+
+
+To begin, there was the task of superintending the installation of the
+accommodations for the cargo of mules and horses. Cappy was
+particularly interested in the ventilating system below decks, for he
+was fond of horses and had resolved to deliver the cargo without the
+loss of a single animal. Of no mediocre turn of mind mechanically, he,
+assisted by Terry Reardon, made a few suggestions that the British
+veterinaries in charge were very glad to accept.
+
+The real enjoyment of the trip, however, Cappy found down at the
+breaking corrals where the horses were detraining. They were all young
+and full of life, and fully ninety per cent of them had only been
+halter-broken. In the lot was many an outlaw whose ancestors had run
+wild for generations in Nevada; and as the delivery contract specified
+that a horse to be accepted must be broken--God save the mark!--as
+Terence Reardon remarked after seeing one passed as broken, following
+five minutes of furious pitching and squealing--Cappy Ricks was one
+of the first at the corral and the last to leave. Perched on the
+topmost, rail, he piped encouragement to the lank, flat-bellied border
+busters who, a dozen times a day, risked life and limb at five dollars
+a bust.
+
+Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon, who had ridden more than one China
+Sea typhoon and West India hurricane, marvelled that men should take
+such risks for any amount of money. Privately they considered Cappy
+Ricks an accessory before the fact, inasmuch as Cappy hung up at least
+five hundred dollars in small prizes for the vaqueros. Whenever they
+had a "bad one" they could always induce Cappy to offer ten dollars
+for staying two minutes and five dollars a minute for each minute over
+the limit--which seldom reached two minutes. Also, Cappy was willing
+to furnish two silver dollars whenever some adventurer thought he
+could put a dollar between each leg and the saddle and have the
+dollars there when the horse surrendered. They ran in a couple of
+trained buckers on Cappy and depleted his bank roll considerably
+before he began to smell a rat.
+
+To these plainsmen, charged with the destinies of the mounts for the
+young British soldier, Cappy Ricks was known familiarly as Cap. Before
+the last of the horses had been passed as broken and hustled aboard
+the big _Narcissus_, Cappy knew each horse wrangler by his first name
+or nickname, and had learned the intricacies of many hitherto
+unheard-of games of chance that flourish along the Rio Grande. He was
+an expert at cooncan, and Pangingi fascinated him; then they taught
+him Mexican monte, and one worthless individual stole an ace out of
+the deck, whereupon all hands had a joyous hack at Cappy, who, when
+informed privately by his friend, Sam Daniels, foreman of the outfit,
+that he was in bad company and being skinned alive, went uptown and
+bought some specially constructed dice, which he introduced brazenly
+into a crap game, thereby more than catching even. He was the last man
+in the world a gang of wicked cowboys would suspect of guile; all of
+them, quite foolishly, thought he had more money than brains.
+
+Eventually, however, the _Narcissus_ was loaded, Cappy moved into the
+owner's suite, and his new-found friends bunked in a temporary deck
+house forward when they weren't busy below decks playing chambermaid
+to the cargo. And with Cappy's motor cruiser swung in the cradle,
+ready for launching from the main deck aft, the _Narcissus_ slipped
+out of Galveston and went snoring across the Gulf of Mexico, bound for
+Le Havre.
+
+Mike Murphy was not happy, however. He resented Cappy Ricks, who would
+persist in going below to inspect the cargo and in consequence smelled
+like a hostler. Moreover, Michael was the port captain of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company now and not the master of the ship; and the
+_Narcissus_ wasn't out of sight of land before Mike made the discovery
+that the boatswain of the ship was absolutely inefficient, that the
+cook was wasteful, that the first officer was too talkative, and the
+skipper too easy-going.
+
+And these conditions, on a ship he had once commanded,  irked Murphy
+exceedingly. Terence Reardon was in much the same state of mind. Being
+port engineer, he investigated the engine room and found that his
+favorite monkey wrench had been lost; there were two leaky tubes in
+the main boiler; the ash hoist was out of kilter; his successor in the
+_Narcissus_ was carrying ten pounds of steam less than Terence used to
+carry; and there was something not quite right with the condenser. The
+engine room crew Terence characterized to Mike Murphy as a gang of
+"vagabones," and hinted darkly at sweeping changes when the ship
+should get back to the United States. Once he went so far as to state
+that he might have expected as much when, upon leaving the _Narcissus_
+to become port engineer, he had given her to his old first assistant;
+since he had never known a first assistant, barring himself, to make a
+good chief!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LII
+
+
+
+
+
+On the very day the _Narcissus_ left Galveston the German submersible
+V-l4 left her base at Zeebrugge, with oil and torpedoes sufficient to
+last her on an ordinary three weeks' cruise, and promptly headed for
+that section of the Atlantic where information and belief told her
+commander the hunting would be good. And it was--so good, in fact,
+that to the very great disgust of her crew she had just two torpedoes
+in stock when the man on watch at her periscope reported a large
+freight steamer to the west. Promptly the V-l4 submerged and proceeded
+on a course calculated to intercept the freighter, which presently was
+discovered to be the U.S.S. _Narcissus_.
+
+The captain of the V-l4 almost licked his chops. He had heard of the
+_Narcissus_. The neutrality laws of the United States had prevented
+him from hearing of her by wireless when she cleared from Galveston,
+but he had been on the lookout for her, just the same, ever since a
+Dutch steamer from New York, with an alert German chief mate, had
+touched at Copenhagen, from which point the dispatches that mate
+carried had gone underground straight to the office of the German
+Admiralty. The information anent the _Narcissus_ had been brief but
+illuminating: She had been chartered to carry horses for the British
+Government from Galveston to Le Havre, and the word to get her at all
+hazards had been passed to the submarine flotilla.
+
+Captain Emil Bechtel, of the V-l4, did not possess an Iron Cross of
+any nature whatsoever, and as he studied the oncoming _Narcissus_
+through the periscope he reflected that this big brute of a boat would
+bring him one, provided he was lucky. He remembered he had but two
+torpedoes left, and under the circumstances he paused to consider.
+
+Clearly--since the _Narcissus_ was laden with horses and mules for the
+enemy she was carrying contraband--she must not escape. On the other
+hand, there had been a deal of unpleasantness of late because
+President Wilson had been protesting the sinking of vessels without
+warning--and the _Narcissus_ was a United States steamer. Consequently
+if he torpedoed her without warning the temperamental Kaiser might
+make of Captain Emil Bechtel what is colloquially known as the goat;
+whereas, on the other hand, should he conform to international law and
+place her crew in safety before sinking her, there was a chance that
+her wireless might summon a patrol boat to the vicinity--Bechtel had
+sighted one less than an hour before--and patrol boats had a miserable
+habit, when they sighted a periscope, of shooting it to pieces.
+
+Then, too, it was just possible that the perfidious English had
+mounted a couple of six-inch guns on her after getting to sea--and the
+German knew a six-inch shell, well-placed, would send his vessel to
+the bottom. Moreover, it was sunset; in half an hour it would be
+twilight; he had no knowledge of the speed of the _Narcissus_ and she
+might try to make a run for it, thus forcing him to come to the
+surface and shell her should he miss with his torpedoes. Further, if
+he attacked her and she escaped, there was an elderly gentleman with
+whiskers back in Berlin who would do things to him if the Kaiser
+didn't.
+
+There was, however, one course open to the German.  To his way of
+thinking, during the exciting diplomatic tangle with the United
+States, he would be damned if he did and damned if he didn't; but if
+he did, and nobody could prove it, old Von Tirpitz would ask no
+questions.
+
+"I'll let her have it," Captain Emil Bechtel  concluded; and he passed
+the word to get ready.
+
+A minute later Cappy Ricks, smoking his after-dinner cigar on the
+bridge of the Narcissus with her skipper and Mike Murphy, pointed far
+off the port bow.
+
+"There's a shark or a swordfish, or something, breaching," he said. "I
+can see his wake."
+
+Mike Murphy took a casual glance in the direction Cappy was pointing,
+while the master of the _Narcissus_ reached for his marine glasses and
+lazily put them to his eyes.
+
+"Shark be damned!" yelled Murphy. "It's a torpedo  or I'm a Chinaman!
+Hard-a-starboard!"
+
+He leaped for the engine-room telegraph and jammed it over to Full
+Speed Astern; then dashed into the pilot house and commenced a furious
+ringing of the ship's bell, summoning the crew to boat drill, the
+while his anxious eye marked the swift progress of the white streak
+coming toward them. What wind there was happened fortunately to be on
+the vessel's port counter, and as the helmsman spun the wheel the big
+vessel fell off quickly and easily, while the rumble of her shaft,
+suddenly reversed, fairly shook the ship. To Cappy Ricks it seemed
+that the vessel must be brought up standing, like one of the broncos
+he had seen ridden with a Spanish bit; but a big ship under full
+headway is not stopped very abruptly, and the _Narcissus_ swept on,
+turning as she went in order to offer as little target as possible to
+the torpedo.
+
+"Will we make it, Mike?" Cappy Ricks queried in a very small, awed
+voice.
+
+Mike Murphy turned and found his owner at his elbow.
+
+"I hope it hits her forward," he replied. "That motor cruiser is
+cradled aft and we might save it. They never hailed us--ah-h-h,
+missed!"
+
+The torpedo flew by, missing the big blunt bow by less than three
+feet.
+
+"I guess they'll get us just the same," Mike Murphy  murmured quietly;
+"but we're going down fighting."
+
+And, disregarding the master of the _Narcissus_, who was staring
+vacantly after the flying torpedo, he rang for Full Speed Ahead, and
+called down the speaking tube to the chief to hook her on for all he
+had; then, with his helm still hard-a-starboard, he swung the ship in
+as small a circle as possible and headed her at full speed back over
+the course so recently traveled by the torpedo.
+
+"That was a beautifully timed shot--that last one," he informed Cappy
+Ricks admiringly. "If we'd sighted it thirty seconds later--"
+
+"Where the devil are you going, man?" Cappy yelled frantically.
+
+"I'm going to give that fellow a surprise," Murphy growled. "He
+expected us to run for it after that first one missed--and I'm running
+for him! He may not get me with the next one if I come bows on--and I
+might ram him! I'll take a chance. Keep your eyes open for his
+periscope."
+
+Aboard the V-l4 Captain Emil Bechtel said nothing, but thought a great
+deal--when he saw that his first torpedo had missed its prey. He was
+in for it now; he had started something and he had to go through. And,
+anticipating that the _Narcissus_ would show him her heels and steer a
+zigzag course, he immediately launched his last torpedo as the horse
+transport lay quartering to him.
+
+To his disgust, however, the steamer, having avoided the first
+torpedo, did not run as he had anticipated. Instead, she continued to
+turn round on her heels, each revolution of her wheel lifting her out
+of the course of the second torpedo, since the submarine had fired
+slightly ahead of the vessel, knowing that if she continued for two
+minutes on the course he expected her to take she would steam fairly
+across the path of the huge missile. So he missed again--the torpedo
+slid under her stern--and here was that demon horse transport bearing
+down on him at full speed and with a bone in her teeth.
+
+"The jig is up," murmured Bechtel, and gave the order to submerge
+deeper, for he would not risk showing his periscope to the keen eyes
+on that bridge.
+
+For ten minutes he waited, while the submarine scuttled blindly out of
+the path of the onrushing transport; then, concluding that the
+_Narcissus_ had passed him, he came up and took a look round. He was
+right. A cable length astern and another off his port quarter the
+steamer was plunging over the darkening sea, and Captain Emil Bechtel
+knew he had her now; so promptly he came to the surface.
+
+Mike Murphy, glancing off his starboard quarter, saw her periscope
+come swiftly up; then her turret showed; then her turtle deck flashed
+for a moment on the surface, like a giant fish, before she rose higher
+and the water cascaded down her sides.
+
+Cappy Ricks' anxious face turned a delicate green; he glanced up at
+his bully port captain as if in that rugged personality alone could he
+hope for salvation. Murphy caught the glance, shook his head, walked
+over to the engine-room telegraph and set the handle over to stop.
+
+"No use, sir," he informed Cappy. "That Dutchman is out of torpedoes,
+so he's coming up to shell us. We'll heave to and save funeral
+expenses." He turned to the master of the _Narcissus_. "Captain, I'll
+stay on the bridge and conduct all negotiations with that fellow; get
+your mates, round up everybody and prepare to abandon the ship in a
+hurry. Get the motor cruiser overside first."
+
+As the captain hurried away, Terence Reardon came up on the bridge.
+The port engineer's gloomy visage portended tears, but through his
+narrowed lids Cappy Ricks saw not tears, but the light of murder.
+Terence did not speak, but thoughtfully puffed his pipe, and, with
+Murphy and Cappy Ricks, watched the booby hatch on the submarine's
+deck slide back and her long, slim, three-inch gun appear, like the
+tongue of a huge viper.
+
+Heads appeared round the breech of the gun; so Michael J. Murphy
+seized a megaphone and shouted:
+
+"_Nein! Nix!_" accompanying his words with wild pantomime that meant
+"Don't shoot!"
+
+Captain Emil Bechtel was vastly relieved. He was not an inhuman man,
+even if, on occasion, as has already been demonstrated, he could, for
+the sake of national expediency, sink a ship without warning. Having
+missed with both torpedoes, he could now, in the event of national
+complications, enter a vigorous denial of any affidavits alleging an
+attempted breach of international law, and his government would uphold
+him. This knowledge rendered him both cheerful and polite, as he hove
+to some hundred yards to starboard of the _Narcissus_ and informed
+Captain Michael J. Murphy that the latter had just fifteen minutes in
+which to save the ship's company; whereat Michael J. proved himself
+every inch a sailor, while Terence P. proved himself a marine
+engineer. If there was a word of opprobrium, mundane or nautical,
+which the port skipper didn't shout at that submarine commander, the
+port engineer supplied it. In all his life Cappy Ricks had never
+listened to such rich, racy, unctuous abuse; it lifted itself about
+the level of the commonplace and became a work of art. Cappy was
+horrified.
+
+"Boys! Boys!" he pleaded. "This is frightful!"
+
+"What do you expect from a German, sir?" Murphy demanded.
+"Frightfulness is his middle name."
+
+"I mean you two--and your language. Stop it!  You'll contaminate me."
+
+"Well, sor," Terence Reardon replied philosophically, "I suppose
+there's small use cryin' over spilt milk--musha, what are they up to
+now?"
+
+"They're dragging a collapsible boat up from below," Mike Murphy
+declared. "That means they're going to board us, place bombs in the
+bilges, and sink us that way. They know blamed well we've wirelessed
+for help and a patrol has answered; so that--"
+
+"No profanity!" Cappy shrilled.
+
+"So he has decided he won't try to sink us by shell fire with such a
+small gun. It'll be dark in five minutes and he's afraid the flame of
+the discharge or the reports of the gun may guide the patrol boat here
+before he's finished his job. Oh, wirra, wirra!"
+
+Murphy's surmise proved to be correct, for he had scarcely finished
+speaking before the submarine commander hailed him and ordered him to
+let down his gangway. Terence P. Reardon's eyes flamed with the lust
+for battle.
+
+"Be the great gun av Athlone," he cried, "if they're comin' aboard
+sure we can get at them!"
+
+Murphy's rage vanished as suddenly as it had gripped him; he smiled at
+Terence affectionately, approvingly.
+
+"You with your monkey wrench, eh, Terry, my lad?  And they with
+automatic pistols and wishful of an excuse to use them, not to mention
+the nitroglycerin and guncotton bombs they'll be carrying--a divilish
+bad thing to have kicking round in a free-for-all fight?" he queried.
+
+Terry's face showed his deep disappointment.
+
+"They'll see us all in the boats," Murphy continued; "then they'll go
+below, set the bombs, light a slow fuse to give them time to get back
+to the submarine--and then--"
+
+"With all these poor dumb beasts aboard?" Cappy Ricks quavered.
+"Horrible! Horrible! I could kill them for it."
+
+"I could kill them for a greater crime than that," his port captain
+reminded him. "Didn't they try twice to sink us without warning? Damn
+them! They're forty fathoms outside the law this minute."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIII
+
+
+
+
+
+For the first time in his life Cappy Ricks was in financial and
+physical danger coincidently. Old he was, and a landlubber, for all
+his courtesy title; but in his veins there coursed the blood of a long
+line of fighting ancestors. It occurred to him now that in all his
+life he had never cried "Enough;" that always, when cornered and
+presumably beaten, he had gone into executive session with himself
+and, fox that he was, schemed a way out. In this supreme moment there
+came to him now the words of the gallant Lawrence: "Don't give up the
+ship!" They inspired him; his agile old brain, benumbed by the shock
+of the exciting events of the last quarter of an hour, threw off its
+paralysis; his little five-feet-four body thrilled with the impact of
+a sudden brilliant idea.
+
+"I have it!" he piped. "By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, it might be
+done! Mike, the submarine lies to starboard. Tell the mate to lower
+the port gangway."
+
+Murphy ran out on the end of the bridge and bawled the order. Then he
+came back, and he and Terence and Cappy Ricks put their heads together
+while in brief, illuminating sentences Cappy Ricks unfolded the fruit
+of his genius.
+
+"Tell me," he pleaded when he had finished, "is that scheme
+practicable?"
+
+"It might be done, sir," Mike Murphy assented.
+
+"I'll thry anything the wanst," Terry Reardon  almost barked.
+
+"It means some fighting--probably some killing."
+
+"Sorra wan av me'll feel broken-hearted at killin' the likes av that
+Dutchman," Terry answered. "Shtill, we'll be needin' some help, I'm
+thinkin'."
+
+"We'll get it, or I'm no judge of human nature.  Mike, pass the word
+for Sam Daniels, the boss of muleteers and broncho busters. Sam used
+to be a Texas Ranger."
+
+Accordingly Sam Daniels was sent for and arrived on the jump.
+
+"Sam, my dear boy," said Cappy calmly, "I'm enlisting volunteers to
+raise hell with that submarine. They're going to put bombs in the
+bilges and blow up the ship."
+
+"Count me in, Cap," Sam Daniels replied laconically.  "Want me to
+rustle up a couple of the boys?"
+
+"Yes, about three real ones--boys that are handy with a six-shooter."
+
+"I guess most of the boys from the border have their guns in their war
+bags. I'll go get them together."
+
+He did--in about three minutes; by which time the collapsible boat
+from the submarine had been launched and was pulling toward the
+_Narcissus_. While her master directed them to pull round to the port
+gangway, Sam Daniels slipped down unobserved into Number Three hatch,
+two of his horse wranglers disappeared with an equal lack of
+ostentation down the gangway into Number Two hatch, and a third man
+went forward and down Number One. The trap was set.
+
+A stout young lieutenant clad in soiled dungarees, his uniform cap
+alone denoting his rank, came briskly up the companion, followed by
+four jackies carrying the bombs. A fifth man remained in the boat,
+fending it away with a boat hook from the tall black side of the
+_Narcissus_.
+
+"Who commands here?" the German demanded in most excellent English.
+
+"I do," the master of the _Narcissus_ replied, and stepped a pace
+forward.
+
+"Then hurry and get your boats overside. We're going to bomb the ship,
+and if anybody remains aboard when those bombs explode it will be his
+fault, not ours."
+
+The motor cruiser had already been dropped overboard, and the
+life-boats, having been for two days swung out in the davits, were
+quickly filled and lowered away. As each boat pulled clear of the ship
+the man in charge of it was ordered by the submarine lieutenant to
+stay to port of the _Narcissus_, and to pull well clear of the ship
+before proceeding to pass the towing painters to the cruiser.
+
+"Are all your men off the ship?" the officer queried of the skipper as
+the latter entered the last boat and gave the order to lower away.
+
+"All off; I've accounted for all of them," was the answer.
+
+The German waited until the boat had slipped away in the gloom before
+turning to his command.
+
+"Proceed!" he said briefly; and, followed by his four men, he led the
+way down the cleated temporary gangway built diagonally down Number
+Three hatch to accommodate the horses when they had been led aboard.
+
+The better to facilitate their progress, Terence Reardon had turned on
+all the electric lights in the ship, and the detail proceeded quickly
+to the lower hold, where they set two bombs and piled double-compressed
+baled hay round them, with the fuse leading out from under the bales.
+In addition to blowing a hole in the ship they were taking the added
+precaution of setting her afire after the explosion.
+
+From the spot where the bombs were set a long alleyway, lined on each
+side with the rumps of horses, each neatly boxed in a stall just wide
+enough and long enough to inclose him firmly and hold him on his feet
+in the event of rough weather, led forward and aft to the bulkheads.
+And in one of these stalls, close up against the rump of a horse he
+could trust, Sam Daniels, the ex-Texas Ranger, crouched, with one eye
+round the corner of the stall, calmly watching the grim proceedings.
+Something told him that, having arranged the bombs in that hold, the
+enemy would not light the fuses until he had set similar bombs at the
+bottom of the other hatches; then, all being in readiness, a man would
+be sent into each hold to light the fuse, scurry on deck, descend to
+the waiting boat, and be pulled clear of danger before the fuses
+should burn down to the fulminating caps.
+
+So Daniels waited until the men were about to pick up the remaining
+bombs and ascend to the deck; whereupon he stepped quietly out into
+the alleyway, a long-barreled forty-five in his hand, and pussyfooted
+swiftly toward the Germans, whose backs were now turned toward him.
+Halfway down the alleyway, on one of the heavy six-by-six-inch
+uprights temporarily set in to support the weight of the hundred mules
+on the deck above, was the electric switch controlling the circuit in
+that hold--and Sam Daniels reached up and turned it down. Instantly
+the hold was in darkness; and then the horseman spoke:
+
+"Hey, you Dutchies! Stay right where you are! I want to have a little
+powwow with you before you go any farther."
+
+Having said this, the astute Mr. Daniels, out of a vast experience
+gained while fighting Mexicans and outlaws in the dark, promptly lay
+down. In case the enemy should become rattled and fire at the sound of
+his voice he preferred to have plenty of room for the bullets to pass
+over him.
+
+"Who's there?" the lieutenant demanded in English; and by the firm,
+resolute voice the Texan knew that the German was not rattled and that
+his men would not fire unless he gave the word.
+
+"Great thing, this naval discipline!" Mr. Daniels soliloquized. Aloud
+he replied:
+
+"The fastest, straightest little wing shot with a six shooter that
+ever was, old-timer!"
+
+"What do you purpose doing, my friend?"
+
+"I purpose giving you some good advice; though whether you accept it
+or not is a matter of indifference to me. You will observe that this
+hold is in comparative darkness. I say comparative, because through
+the hatch space a certain amount of light is projected from the deck
+above, and you and your men are standing in that light, whereas I am
+in the dark. I can see you and you cannot see me. I have a forty-five
+caliber revolver in my hand and another in reserve. There are five of
+you fellows, constituting a fair target--and I seldom miss a fair
+target. I can kill all five of you in five seconds. Of course some of
+you may manage to fire at the flash of my gun and accidentally kill
+me; but--make no mistake about it, son--I'll get you and your gang
+before I kick the bucket. Now, then, which do you want to do--live or
+die? I'm going to be fair to you fellows and give you some choice in
+the matter--which is more than you did when you launched those two
+torpedoes at us. Speak up, brother! I'm a nervous man and dislike
+suspense."
+
+The German lieutenant glanced at his men, who had not yet touched the
+other bombs and were looking stolidly at him for orders. He licked his
+lower lip and scowled, sighed gustily--and made a swift grab for his
+automatic. A streak of flame came out of the dark alleyway and the
+German's arm hung limp at his side. He had a bullet in his shoulder.
+
+"Told you I was a wing shot!" the plainsman cautioned him pleasantly.
+"I would have put that one through your heart if I didn't need an
+interpreter. I imagine these roustabouts with you only speak their
+mother tongue."
+
+"What do you want me to do?"
+
+"Well, first, I want you to leave that high explosive right where it
+is. Then I want you to deposit all your sidearms on the floor, and
+have your men do likewise."
+
+The German had had his lesson and arrived at the conclusion that valor
+without discretion is not good business. He slipped his belt off and
+let it drop to the floor; at a word from him his men did likewise,
+whereupon Daniels stood up, threw on the electric switch, and revealed
+himself and his artillery to the gaze of the invaders.
+
+"Forward; in a bunch, up the gangway!" he ordered.
+
+They obeyed. As the Texan passed the little heap of belts, with the
+automatics in the holsters attached, he gathered them up and followed.
+Just before the procession reached the main deck he halted them and
+whistled--whereupon Michael J. Murphy, Terence P. Reardon and Cappy
+Ricks came to the edge of the hatch and peered over.
+
+"Well, look who's here!" Cappy exclaimed maliciously.  "Five nice
+little pirates, who would sink my _Narcissus_ without so much as a
+be-damned to you! Mike, bring the irons. Terence, my boy, restrain
+yourself. If you use that monkey wrench until I give the word the Blue
+Star Navigation Company will have a new port engineer. Undress these
+fellows. Just remove their caps and outer garments--and be quick about
+it."
+
+"Tell them to molt--_muy pronto!_" Sam Daniels ordered the lieutenant,
+who relayed the order in a voice that had in it a suspicion of tears.
+
+In three minutes they were undressed and handcuffed together; leg
+irons were put on them, and they were expeditiously gagged and chained
+to a stanchion.
+
+"Now then, Terence, I have work for you and your monkey wrench," Cappy
+continued. "You're about the same size as this officer. Into his
+dungarees and uniform cap; and don't forget to slip on his belt, with
+the automatic."
+
+"In two shakes av a lamb's tail, sor. What next?"
+
+"As you run down the gangway to the waiting boat, hold your
+handkerchief over that Irish mug of yours. Pretend you're blowing your
+nose. The man in the boat won't recognize you until you're on top of
+him."
+
+"Wan little love tap--no more!" Terence breathed lovingly.
+
+"When Terence has tapped him, Sam," Cappy continued, "you go down and
+help to get him out on the landing stage. He'll be off our hands there
+and the submarine people cannot see what's happened to him. They're
+still lying on our starboard beam."
+
+Terence and the deadly Samuel disappeared, to return presently and
+report all well. Thereupon Michael J. Murphy retired to the port side
+of the house, lit a kerosene torch he had brought up from the engine
+room and waved it. He waited. Presently, in the gloom off to port, he
+saw the red and green side lights of the little cruiser. For a moment
+both lights were visible; then the master of the _Narcissus_, now in
+charge of the cruiser, ported his helm and showed his red only. Murphy
+waited, and presently both red and green showed again.
+
+"Starboard now, and show your green," Murphy pleaded.
+
+The red went out and the green alone showed; so Mike Murphy
+extinguished his torch and rejoined Cappy Ricks, Terence and the
+ubiquitous Mr. Daniels.
+
+"Sam, my dear boy," Cappy was saying as Murphy came up, "Mike and
+Terence own in the _Narcissus_ and they work for me--hence their
+alliance. You owe me no fealty--"
+
+"The hell I don't, Cap!" Sam retorted lightly.  "You're a fine old
+sport, and I'm for you till the last dog is hung."
+
+"Sam, I am deeply grateful. Your friendship is very dear to me indeed.
+I have a twenty-two-thousand acre ranch down in Monterey County,
+California--don't know why I bought it, unless it was because it was a
+bargain and ranch property in California is bound to increase in
+value--and you're my foreman if we ever get out of this with a whole
+skin. I'll make it the best job you ever had, Sam."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Ricks!" A moment before it had been Cap. "If you never
+saw a man fight for a good job before, just watch me!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIV
+
+
+
+
+
+The horse tenders in the other holds were summoned and informed that
+for the present the _Narcissus_ would not be bombed. Quickly two of
+them, with Mike Murphy and Sam Daniels, donned the dungarees and caps
+of the prisoners and strapped on their belts containing the automatics
+in their holsters. In the interim Terence had descended to the
+collapsible boat bumping at the gangway and fended her off until Sam
+Daniels, the two cowboys and Mike Murphy joined him; whereupon Terence
+took one pair of oars, while Murphy handled the other, and the boat
+crept out from the steamer and headed directly for the submarine,
+which had been ratching backward and forward under a dead-slow bell,
+watching the towering black hulk of the _Narcissus_ rolling idly. A
+light showed on the turret of the submarine, outlining vaguely the
+figures of half a dozen men on her small deck.
+
+The disposition of Mike Murphy's forces was such that the chances of
+the enemy detecting the substitution of the boarding party before it
+should reach the submersible were reduced to a minimum. In the bow of
+the collapsible one of the cowboys sat, facing the stern; Terence and
+Mike also faced the stern, by reason of the fact that they were
+rowing; and Sam Daniels and the other cowboy, seated in the stern
+sheets, were under orders to turn and look back at the _Narcissus_ as
+the boat came within the radius of the meager light from the
+submarine's turret. Thus they ran little risk of premature discovery.
+
+"For," as Cappy Ricks sagely reminded them just before they pulled
+away from the _Narcissus_, "the German is both cautious and cocksure.
+The capture of his bombing party has been effected without a sound;
+the commander saw our men leave the steamer in the boats; he sees the
+_Narcissus_ now not under command and wallowing; he figures that all
+is lovely and the goose honks high. Therefore, he will be off his
+guard, since his suspicions have not been roused. His deck is very
+dimly lighted by that single light on the turret, and he knows that
+light is sufficient to guide the boat party back to the submarine.
+There is no sea running to speak of; so it will not be necessary for
+him to turn his searchlight on you to light the way for you.
+
+"Moreover, he will not care to use his searchlight, because it may
+guide a patrol boat to this spot, and Terence has very carefully
+turned out all the lights on the ship which might be visible from a
+distance, because that is precisely what that lieutenant would or
+should have done if we had given him time. And when you row toward
+that submarine, row like the devil, because that's the way the bombing
+party would row in their hurry to board the submarine and steam clear
+of the explosion. It is my guess that the instant you heave alongside
+you will be snagged with boat hooks by the men on her deck. In the
+excitement of making a quick get-away nobody will be looking into your
+faces, anyhow; they'll see your familiar dungaree suits and caps; some
+of them may even give you a hand to help you when you leap aboard. Do
+not despise such help; just extend your left hands and before you let
+go the enemy's right bend your guns--and you, Terry, your monkey
+wrench--over their heads. You'll have the deck in a pig's whisper!
+Then, Mike, the rest is up to you. I've made the ball; now you fire
+it.
+
+"I take it the submarine will be in such a hurry to get away that all
+the men on her deck will reach down and snake the boat in; once out of
+danger, they'll plan on knocking that collapsible down and storing it
+away at their leisure. Tackle 'em while they're busy with the
+boat--provided you get aboard unsuspected. Terence, remember to shout
+the minute you go into action--and I'll give you fighting light."
+
+Following these instructions, Cappy had very solemnly shaken hands all
+round and departed for the bridge, where he removed the canvas
+covering from the searchlight, bent the reflector toward the
+submarine, and waited, with his nervous old finger on the switch.
+
+In pursuance of Cappy Ricks' instructions, Mike Murphy and Terence
+Reardon rowed furiously toward the submarine--so furiously, indeed,
+that the harsh grating of their oars in the rowlocks apprised Captain
+Emil Bechtel of their approach some seconds before the boat was
+visible. At his brisk command the men on deck stepped down to the low
+pipe railing on the port side of the deck, prepared to snag the boat
+the instant she drew alongside. When he could hear the sound of the
+commander's voice, Mike Murphy chanced a quick look over his shoulder,
+noted the position of the submarine, and turned his head again.
+
+"Four more strokes, Terry; then ship your oars," he cautioned the
+engineer in a low voice.
+
+At the fourth stroke Terence obediently shipped his oars; with a deft
+twist of one oar, Murphy straightened the boat and shot neatly in
+alongside the submarine, the deck of which was less than three feet
+above the water. As Cappy Ricks had anticipated, the men on that deck
+promptly snagged the boat at bow and stern with boat hooks--and on the
+instant Cappy Ricks' bully boys leaped for their prey.
+
+As luck would have it, Terence P. Reardon was the only one offered a
+helping hand--and he did not despise it; neither did he forget Cappy's
+last instructions. With neatness and ample force he brought his monkey
+wrench down on the German's skull; and then to Cappy Ricks, waiting on
+the bridge of the _Narcissus_, came the ancient Irish battlecry of
+_Faugh-a-ballagh!_ For the benefit of those not versed in the ways of
+the fighting Celt, be it known that _Faugh-a-ballagh_ means Clear the
+Road. And history records but few instances when Irish soldiery have
+raised that cry and rushed without clearing a pathway.
+
+The fight was too short and savage for description.  Suffice it to say
+that not a shot was fired--the work was too close for that, for the
+surprise had been complete. Even before Cappy Ricks could focus the
+steamer's searchlight on the fracas, it was over. Terence P. Reardon
+got two in two strokes of his trusty monkey wrench; Sam Daniels and
+his two fellow-bronco-busters each laid open a German scalp with the
+long barrels of their forty-fives; and Michael J. Murphy, plain
+lunatic-crazy with rage, disdaining all but Nature's weapons, tied
+into the amazed Captain Emil Bechtel under the rules of the
+Longshoremen's Union--which is to state that Michael J. Murphy
+clinched Emil Bechtel, lifted him, set him down hard on his plump
+back, crawled him, knelt on his arms, and addressed him in these
+words:
+
+"Hah! (A right jab to the face.) You would, would you? (Left jab to
+face.) You pig-iron polisher! (Bending the nose back forcibly with the
+heel of his fist.) When I get (smash) through with your (smash) head
+(smash) it'll be long (smash) before you'll block (smash) your hat
+again (smash) on the Samson post, you--"
+
+"Out av me way, Michael, lad, till I get a kick at his slats!" crooned
+Terence P. Reardon, heaving alongside.
+
+"You gossoon! Take care of the scuttle; don't let them close it down,
+or they'll submerge and drown us. Leave this lad to me, I tell you.
+He's the captain, and why shouldn't he be killed by one of his own
+rank?"
+
+Thus rebuked, Terence curbed his blood-thirsty proclivities. Leaving
+his countryman to beat his devil's tattoo on the submarine commander,
+Terence leaped to the open scuttle just in time to bang another head
+as it appeared on a level with the deck.
+
+"Let that be a lesson to you!" he called as the unconscious man slid
+back down the companion into the interior of the vessel.
+
+Then he sat on the lid of the scuttle, poised his monkey wrench on
+high over the scuttle, and awaited developments, the while he tossed
+an order over his shoulder to Sam Daniels:
+
+"Bring me the bum!"
+
+"Which one?" Mr. Daniels queried.
+
+"The German bum, av coorse," Terence retorted waspishly.
+
+"But all these bums are Germans--"
+
+"Not that kind av a bum!" howled Terence. "I mean the bum in the
+boat."
+
+Thus enlightened, Sam brought a bomb from the boat and handed it to
+the engineer. In the interim Mike Murphy had polished off his man to
+his entire satisfaction and joined Terence at the scuttle, while one
+of the horse wranglers, a cool individual and a firm believer in
+safety first, collected the weapons from the fallen.
+
+Mike Murphy approached the scuttle and bawled down it to the amazed
+and puzzled crew below. As a linguist Mike was no great shakes,
+particularly when called upon to juggle German; but he was a resolute
+fellow and not afraid to do his best at all times. Consequently his
+hail took the form of "Hey! _Landsmann!_"
+
+Something told Terence Reardon that Michael was through; so he added
+his mite to the store and bellowed:
+
+"_Spreckels die deutsch,_ ye blackguards?"
+
+Then both sat back to await developments. Presently  a voice at the
+foot of the companion said:
+
+"Hello dere! Vat iss?"
+
+"Vat iss? Hell iss! Dot's vat! Listen to me, you Dutchy. I'm the
+skipper of that horse transport your commander tried to sink without
+warning, and I'm in command of the deck of this craft, with the
+scuttle open; and you can't submerge and wash me off, either. When I
+give the word I want you and your men to come up, one at a time and no
+crowding. And if you're not up five minutes after I order you up I'll
+not wait; I'll set a bomb in your turret, back off in the small boat
+and kill with revolvers any man that tries to come up and see where
+the fuse is burning in order to put it out. Do you surrender, or would
+you rather die?"
+
+"Vait a minute und I find oud," the German  answered promptly.
+
+It required five minutes for a council of war below decks; then the
+interpreter came to the foot of the companion and informed Mike Murphy
+that, considering the circumstances, they had decided to live. In the
+interim the skipper of the _Narcissus_ had arrived, with
+re-enforcements, in the cruiser, and reported that his crew was
+getting back aboard the steamer as fast as possible and would have her
+under command again in a minute. At Murphy's order the unconscious
+Germans were put aboard the cruiser; later, when the remainder of the
+submersible's crew came up, one at a time, they were disarmed and
+lined up on the little deck; whereupon Michael J. Murphy addressed
+their spokesman thus:
+
+"Listen--you! It would be just like you to have set a time bomb
+somewhere in this submarine to blow her up after you were all safely
+out of her. If you did you made a grave tactical error. You're not
+going to leave her for quite a while yet. You're going to sit quietly
+here on deck, under guard, while the steamer hooks on to this
+submarine and tows her; and if my prize crew is blown up, remember,
+you--"
+
+The spokesman--he was the chief engineer, by the way--yelled "_Ach,
+Gott!_" and leaped for the scuttle. Mike Murphy followed him into the
+engine room in time to see him stamp out a long length of slow-burning
+fuse.
+
+"Any more?" Murphy queried.
+
+"Dot von vas sufficient, if it goes off," the German answered simply.
+
+"All right!" Mike Murphy replied. "I'll take a chance and so will you.
+You'll stay aboard and run those oil engines."
+
+Half an hour later with the submarine's crew safely under lock and key
+on the _Narcissus,_ the big freighter continued on her course,
+followed by the captured submarine, with Michael J. Murphy in her
+turret and a quartermaster from the _Narcissus_ at her helm. In the
+engine room her own engineer grudgingly explained to Terence P.
+Reardon the workings of an oil engine and the ramifications of the
+electric-light system--and during all of that period the deadly monkey
+wrench never left the port engineer's hand.
+
+Sam Daniels and his comrades were once more back aboard the
+_Narcissus,_ attending to the horses; and Cappy Ricks, his heart so
+filled with pride that it was like to burst, occupied the submarine's
+turret with the doughty Michael J. For an hour they discussed the
+marvelous coup until there was no angle of it left undiscussed;
+whereupon fell a silence, with Michael J.'s eyes fixed on the dark
+bulk ahead that marked the _Narcissus_, and Cappy's thoughts on what
+Matt Peasley and Mr. Skinner would say when they heard the glorious
+news.
+
+For nearly an hour not a word passed between the pair.
+
+Presently Cappy's regular breathing drew Murphy's attention to him. He
+had fallen asleep in his seat, his chin bent on his old breast, a
+little half-smile on his lips. And as Murphy looked at him pridefully
+Cappy spoke in his sleep:
+
+"Holy sailor! How Mike Murphy can swear!"
+
+Terence P. Reardon came to the foot of the little spiral staircase
+leading to the turret.
+
+"Michael, me lad," he announced, "the internal-combustion  ile ingin'
+is the marine ingin' av the future. They're as simple as two an' two
+is four. Listen, _avic!_ Does she not run like a twenty-four-jewel
+watch? An' this man that invinted thim was a Ger-r-man--more power to
+him! Faith, I'm thinkin' if the Ger-r-mans were as great in war as
+they are in peace 'twould need more nor the Irish to take the measure
+av thim!"
+
+"Irish?" Mike Murphy answered irritably. "Terence, quit  your
+bragging! God knows the Irish are great--"
+
+"The greatest in the wide, wide wur-rld!" Terence declared, with all
+the egotism of his race.
+
+"Whist, Terry! There's a little old Yankee man aboard; if you wake him
+up he'll call you a liar."
+
+"The darlin' ould fox!" Terry murmured affectionately, and went back
+to his engines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LV
+
+
+
+
+
+The entire office force of the Blue Star Navigation Company and the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company had assembled in the general office to
+greet Cappy Ricks, Mike Murphy and Terence Reardon upon their return
+from Europe, and to hear at first hand the story of their wanderings
+and adventures. And when the wondrous tale had been told, and business
+was once more resumed, Matt Peasley, Mr. Skinner, Mike and Terence
+convened in Cappy Ricks' office for further discussion.
+
+"We sent that half million dollars to New York to be transferred to
+the credit of the French Government when the bill of sale for that
+steamer should be deposited with the bank there," Matt remarked
+presently. "What kind of a vessel did you buy, Cappy? What are her
+dimensions?"
+
+"What kind of a ship did I buy?" Cappy piped.  "Hum-m-m! A ship is
+good. I bought four; and--believe me!--they're no skiffs, either. All
+of them are big foreign-going steel tramps, with lots of speed and
+power."
+
+"Four for half a million dollars?" Matt Peasley  cried unbelievingly.
+
+"They would have cost anybody else a million and a half; but--er--
+well, you see, Matt, I had a stand-in with the right people. The four
+vessels I bought were all prizes of war--German merchantmen converted
+into commerce raiders, which had slipped through the cordon of British
+cruisers and got into the North Atlantic, where French cruisers
+overhauled them and brought them into port. They were all there and up
+for sale to the highest bidder when we got there with the horses and
+our captured submarine.
+
+"I bid half a million for the lot, which is probably about half of
+what it cost to build them; and there was a Frenchman and an
+Englishman bidding against me. They each had me topped, and the
+vessels were knocked down to the Frenchman; but when he found I was a
+competitor--that I was Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks--that's what they
+called me, Matt--in command of the party that captured a German
+submarine, intact and without the loss of a single man on either
+side-say, Matt, the stuff was all off!
+
+"He and the Englishman went into a conference; and the result was, the
+Frenchman ran out on his bid and forfeited his ten-per-cent certified
+check. That left the Englishman the next highest bidder; and he ran
+out on his bid and left the ships to me! Then the Englishman shook
+hands with me and the Frenchman kissed me. I thought the least I could
+do was to make good to them on the earnest money they had forfeited,
+and they accepted it. Then the President of France heard about it and
+came down to Brest to see me; and he kissed me, too, and gave me the
+Officers' Cross of the Legion of Honor. I didn't tell him I was just a
+private in the ranks. Oh, no! Nothing doing. I was introduced as
+Monsieur le Capitaine Ricks--and that settled it. I was an officer,
+for all my courtesy title; and I took the Cross, because I was prouder
+than Punch to have it.
+
+"Then the Chamber of Deputies met and voted the Frenchman and the
+Englishman back their forfeited earnest money; and they gave me back
+my checks, and I wrote new ones for the same amount and split the swag
+fifty-fifty between the two nations for the care of their wounded.
+Then I gave a dinner aboard the submarine, and President Poincare was
+present. I presented the submarine, with the compliments of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, to the Republic of France, and the President
+accepted, all hands went out on deck and we cracked a bottle of
+champagne over that submersible's bows and rechristened her."
+
+"What name?" Matt and Skinner chorused.
+
+"The Shamrock--out of compliment to Mike and Terence."
+
+"Fine!" Matt cried. "Then what?"
+
+"Nothing, Matt. Our business was finished and I was anxious to get
+back on the job; so we engaged skippers and crews to bring our four
+freighters to New York, and came home.
+
+"Better step lively, boy, and dig up some business for them! Mike will
+give you the data on their tonnage."
+
+Matt drew Mike Murphy aside.
+
+"Tell me, Mike," he whispered, "did the old man get soused at that
+dinner aboard the _Shamrock?_"
+
+"Look here, Matt," Murphy answered; "what Monsieur  le Capitaine Ricks
+does outside of office hours is none of my business--or yours, either.
+And if you don't like that answer help yourself to a new port captain.
+I'm not telling everything I know, Matt."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVI
+
+
+
+
+
+On the morning of April 3, 1917, Cappy Ricks came down to his office,
+spread a newspaper on his desk and carefully cut from it the war
+address of President Wilson to Congress, made the night before. This
+clipping the old gentleman folded carefully; he placed it in an
+envelope, sealed it and wrote across the face of the envelope:
+"Property of Alden Matthew Peasley." Then he summoned Mr. Skinner,
+president of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he began, "have you read the President's
+Message to Congress?"
+
+"I have," replied Skinner.
+
+"I guess that President of ours isn't some tabasco, eh? By the Holy
+Pink-Toed Prophet, he's just naturally read Bill Hohenzollern out of
+the party. Bully for Woodrow!"
+
+Mr. Skinner's calm cold features refused to thaw, however, under the
+heat of his employer's enthusiasm, seeing which Cappy slid out to the
+edge of his chair and gazed contemplatively at Skinner over the rims
+of his spectacles. "Hum-m-m!" he said. The very tempo of that
+throat-clearing should have warned Mr. Skinner that he was treading on
+thin ice, but with his usual complacence he ignored the storm signal,
+for his mind was upon private, not public affairs.
+
+"I'm offered the old barkentine _C. D. Bryant_ for a cargo of redwood
+to Sydney," he began. "The freight rate is two hundred and twenty
+shillings per thousand feet, but the _Bryant_ is so old and rotten I
+can't get any insurance on the cargo if I ship by her. I'm just
+wondering if--"
+
+"Haramph-h-h! Ahem-m-m!"
+
+"--it's worth while taking a chance to move that foreign order."
+
+"Skinner!" Cappy almost shouted.
+
+Mr. Skinner looked at him, startled.
+
+"How can you think and talk of old barkentines and non-insurable
+foreign cargoes at this crisis in our country's history?" the autocrat
+of the numerous Ricks corporations shrilled furiously. "Dad burn your
+picture, Skinner, are you human? Don't you ever get a thrill from
+reading a document like this?"--and he tapped the envelope containing
+the press clipping. "What kind of juice runs in your arteries, anyhow?
+Red blood or buttermilk? Is your soul so dog-goned dead, crushed under
+the weight of dollars, that you have failed to realize this document
+is destined to go down in history side by side with Lincoln's
+Gettysburg speech? I'll bet you don't know the Gettysburg speech. Bet
+you never heard of it!"
+
+"Oh, nonsense, Mr. Ricks," Skinner retorted suavely.  "Pray do not
+excite yourself. Suppose war does impend? Is that any reason why I
+should neglect business?"
+
+"Of course it is, you gibbering jackdaw! I feel like setting fire to
+the building, just to celebrate. Can't you step into my office on a
+day like this and discuss the country and her affairs for five
+minutes, just to prove you're an American citizen? Can't you rejoice
+with me over these lofty, noble sentiments--"
+
+"Words, words, empty words," warned Mr. Skinner, always a reactionary
+Republican.
+
+"Skinner," said Cappy with deadly calm, "one more disloyal peep out of
+you and I shall have no alternative save to request your resignation.
+I think you're a pacifist at heart, anyhow!"
+
+"Huh," snorted Skinner. "You've changed your tune, haven't you? Who
+trotted up and down California Street last fall, soliciting campaign
+contributions for the Republican nominee from the lumber and shipping
+interests? Wasn't it Alden P. Ricks? Who thought the country was going
+to wrack and ruin--"
+
+"That was last fall," Cappy interrupted shrilly.  "We live and
+learn--that is, some of us do," he added significantly. "Never mind
+about my politics last fall; just remember I haven't any this spring.
+I'm an American citizen, and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, some
+German or Germans will find it out before I'm gathered to the bosom of
+Abraham. I have a right to disapprove of my President if I feel like
+it, but I'll be shot if I'll let anybody else pick on him." And Cappy
+shook his head emphatically several times like a squinch-owl.
+
+"Oh, I'm for him, now that we're committed to this war," Skinner
+declared in an effort to soothe the old man.
+
+"Sure! We're locking the stable door after the horse has been stolen.
+If we'd been for him when the _Lusitania_ was sunk instead of being
+divided in our opinions and swayed in our judgment by a lot of
+hysterical pacifists and German propagandists we'd have been into the
+war long ago and saved millions of human lives; we'd have had the war
+won." He sighed.
+
+"What a prime lot of jackasses we Americans are!" he continued. "We
+talk of liberty and demand license; we prate of democracy and we're a
+nation of snobs!"
+
+"You wanted to see me about something," Skinner reminded him.
+
+"Ah, yes; I was forgetting. This envelope, Skinner, contains the
+President's address. Take it and put it in the vault, and when my
+grandson is twelve years old give that press clipping to his mother
+and tell her I said she was to read it to the boy and make him learn
+it by heart. I won't be on hand to do the Americanizing of that
+youngster myself, and most likely Matt Peasley will be too busy to
+think much about it, so I'm taking no chances. You rile me to beat the
+band sometimes, Skinner, but I'll say this much in your favor: I have
+never known you to forget anything."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+Mr. Skinner took the envelope and departed, and Cappy rang for a
+stenographer.
+
+"Take a telegram, fast day message," he barked: "'His Excellency, The
+President, White House, Washington, D. C. Dear Mister President: I did
+not vote for you last fall, but your address of last night makes me
+ashamed that I did not. I am controlling owner of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, operating a fleet of fifty vessels of various
+kinds, twelve of which are foreign-going steam freighters. Am also
+controlling owner of the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, cutting a
+million feet of lumber daily. Everything I control, every dollar I
+possess, is at the service of my country. God bless you, sir! Alden P.
+Ricks.'
+
+"That sounds sloppy, but it's the way I feel," Cappy declared. "When a
+man has a big heart-breaking job to do and a lot of Philistines are
+knocking him, maybe it helps him to retain his faith in humankind to
+have some fellow grow sincerely sloppy and slip a telegraphic cheer in
+with the hoots. Besides, if I didn't let off steam today I'd swell up
+and bust myself all over the office--"
+
+The door opened and Mr. Terence P. Reardon, port engineer of the Blue
+Star Navigation Company, entered. Mr. Reardon's right eye was in deep
+mourning and at no very remote period something--presumably a
+fist--had shifted his nose slightly to starboard; indeed, even as he
+entered Cappy's office a globule of the rich red Reardon blood
+trembled in each of the port engineer's nostrils. His knuckles were
+slightly skinned and the light of battle blazed in his black eyes.
+
+"Terence, my dear, dear fellow," murmured the horrified  Cappy, "you
+look as if you had been fed into a concrete mixer. Have you been
+fighting?"
+
+"Well, sor," Mr. Reardon replied in his deep Kerry brogue, "ye might
+call it that for lack of somethin' more expressive. I've just fired
+the chief engineer o' the _Tillicum."_
+
+"Mr. Denicke? Why, Terry, he's a first-rate engineer. I'm  amazed. He
+was with us ten years before you entered the employ--worked up from
+oiler; in fact, I must have an explanation of your action in this
+case, Terence."
+
+"He called the President a nut. I fired him for that.  Then he said
+the Kaiser was the greatest single force for civilization that ever
+was, an' wit' that I gave him a lift under the lug an' we wint at it.
+He's in the Harbor Receivin' Hospital this minute, an' I'm here to
+tell ye, sor, wit' all respect, that if ye don't like the way I've
+treated that Dutchman ye can get yerself a new port ingineer, for I'll
+quit, an' that's somethin' I'm not wishful to do."
+
+Quite calmly Cappy Ricks pressed the buzzer on his desk. The cashier
+of the Blue Star Navigation Company entered. "Son," said Cappy,
+"hereafter, when making out Mr. Reardon's pay check, tack onto it
+twenty-five dollars extra each month. That is all."
+
+"Thank you, sor," murmured Mr. Reardon, quite overcome.
+
+"Get out!" cried Cappy. "You're a vision of sudden death. Go wash
+yourself."
+
+As Mr. Reardon took his departure Cappy sighed.  "If Skinner only had
+a set of works like that port engineer!" he murmured. "If he only
+had!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII
+
+
+
+
+
+It will be recalled that war with Germany was declared  on Good
+Friday. Bright and early on Saturday morning Cappy Ricks arrived at
+his office and immediately summoned Mr. Skinner.
+
+"Skinner, my dear boy," he chirped, "'the tumult and the shouting
+dies. We're down to brass tacks--at last; and now is time for all good
+men and true to come to the aid of the party. I'm too old to bear
+arms, and when I was young enough bantam battalions weren't
+fashionable; nevertheless, I am enlisting for the war, and I start in
+this morning to do my part. I won't wear any uniform, but believe me,
+Skinner, I'm the little corporal who's going to mobilize the Blue Star
+Navigation Company and the Ricks Lumber & Logging Company, together
+with all and sundry of their subsidiary corporations. I'm starting
+with you, Skinner. Are you figuring on enlisting?"
+
+"Certainly not, sir. I'm forty-three years old, married--"
+
+"No excuses necessary, Skinner. Even if you had planned to enlist I
+would have forbidden the banns. You'd make a bird of a paymaster or
+quartermaster, but as an enlisted man--well, the other bad soldier
+boys would toss you in a blanket. So I'll assign you to a job in civil
+life. Skinner, what do you know about aeroplanes?"
+
+"Absolutely nothing, except that they fly."
+
+"Then learn something! Skinner, the ideal wood for aeroplane
+construction is clear Pacific Coast spruce. I've been reading up on
+the subject. Inasmuch as this war must be won in the air, you can
+imagine the number of aeroplanes the country must turn out in the next
+eighteen months. Stu-pen-dous, Skinner, simply stu-pen-dous! Try to
+visualize the wastage alone in the aeroplanes on the battle fronts;
+consider the thousands of seaplanes that will scour the Atlantic on
+the lookout for submarines, and then ask yourself, Skinner, what the
+devil those overworked army and navy officers in Washington are going
+to do about laying in a supply of clear Pacific Coast spruce before
+these pirates of lumbermen get next and boost the price clear out of
+sight. Skinner, what is clear spruce worth at the Northern mills
+today?"
+
+"About fifty-five dollars per thousand, sir. For years clear spruce
+never rose in price beyond thirty-five dollars, but purchases by the
+British Government have shot the price up during the past year."
+
+"Exactly! And purchases by the United States Government will shoot the
+price up to a hundred and fifty dollars a thousand if you and I don't
+get busy. Now then, Skinner, listen to me! We have a couple of
+thousand acres of wonderful spruce timber adjacent to our fir holdings
+at Port Hadlock, Washington. Wire the mill manager to swamp in a
+logging railroad to that spruce timber, put in logging camps and
+concentrate on spruce. The clear stock we'll sell to the Government,
+and the lower grades will be snapped up by the box factories."
+
+Mr. Skinner nodded his comprehension of the order and Cappy continued:
+"Wire our mill managers at Astoria, Oregon and Eureka, California, to
+log out all the spruce they come across among the fir. As for you,
+Skinner, accept no more orders for clear spruce from our regular
+customers, and go easy on accepting orders for any kind of lumber from
+our Eastern customers. All those car shipments must be made up of
+kiln-dried stock, and we'll want most of the space in our dry kilns to
+cook this clear green spruce for Uncle Sam, because he's going to want
+it in a hurry, and if he can't get it when he wants it--why, chaos has
+come again and all hell's let loose!"
+
+"What price do you propose charging the Government for this clear
+spruce?" the cautious Skinner queried. He owned a little stock in the
+Ricks Lumber & Logging Company and already he had a vision of an extra
+dividend.
+
+"Absolute cost plus ten per cent," replied Cappy promptly. "No excess
+profits at the expense of the country at war, Skinner."
+
+He gazed upon Skinner contemplatively for several seconds. "And mind
+you don't figure the cost too liberally," he warned him.
+
+"Very well, sir. Is that all?"
+
+"Not by a jugful! You scatter round the market and buy up every stick
+of clear two-inch spruce sawed and on hand at the Northern mills. Buy
+at the market, but do not hesitate to go five dollars over the market
+if necessary to get the stock. Then place orders for all the clear
+spruce the mills can cut and deliver within the next six months, and
+we'll have the market hog tied.
+
+"Got to do it, Skinner. I tell you there isn't a whole lot of
+difference between a lumberman and a manufacturer or a food
+speculator. When he gets the public foul, doesn't the public pay
+through the nose? Haven't we been doing it ourselves in the matter of
+ship freights? But we must reform, Skinner, we must reform and get
+down to a cooperative basis, no matter how great the agony. On this
+spruce deal alone, for instance, we'll save the Government a couple of
+million dollars. See if we don't."
+
+"We're entitled to a liberal profit," Mr. Skinner protested. "If--"
+
+"No ifs, buts or ands! Obey orders! About the time we have the market
+on clear spruce well cornered the lumbermen's boys will be in the army
+and the lumbermen themselves will have begun to realize that they must
+sacrifice something for their country. And once we're sane we'll be
+able to work hand in glove with the Government. The United States of
+America has been money-mad for a long time, Skinner, but this war is
+going to spiritualize us and show us that there's a lot more in life
+than dollar-chasing. Hop to your job, P. D. Q., Skinner, my boy; and
+as you pass out send Captain Matt Peasley in to me."
+
+Matt Peasley came smilingly into his father-in-law's office. "Well,
+Cappy," he hailed the old gentleman, "I understand you've come out of
+your retirement."
+
+"You're damned whistling, I have!" Cappy rejoined.  "Something doing,
+boy, something for everybody! Have they told you about it in the
+general office?"
+
+"Told me about what?"
+
+"About the President asking me if I would cooperate with him to the
+extent of serving as the Pacific Coast member of the Shipping Board? I
+guess that isn't some honor, eh? How the devil he ever dug up an old
+fossil like me is a mystery. I wired him, advising that he appoint a
+younger man, but he replied that he knew I was the livest shipping man
+in the country and an American through and through. So, of course,
+Matt, I have accepted."
+
+"Your forty odd years' experience will be of inestimable  value to the
+country in this emergency," Matt declared heartily. "I'm proud of
+you."
+
+"Thank you, son. Now then, Matt, to business!  The Government's going
+to need every one of our ships that can run foreign." Matt nodded.
+"Very well, then," Cappy continued; "as fast as their present charters
+lapse, decline to recharter except for single trips. We must go on a
+war basis and be prepared to turn our ships over to the Government on
+short notice. I'll be too busy to keep my eye on the details of the
+Blue Star's transactions with the Government, so I'll give you a
+straight tip now--I want no gouging. Remember that, Matthew, my son."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII
+
+
+
+
+
+The following day Cappy had a call from Sam Daniels.
+
+"Hello, Sam," Cappy greeted his lanky ranch manager.  "What brings you
+up to town? Not that I'm not glad to see you, for I was on the point
+of writing you on some matters that had occurred to me."
+
+"I've come up to resign my job," Daniels declared humbly.
+
+"Resign the best job you've ever had, Sam!" Cappy was amazed.
+
+"To resign the best job I ever will have, Mr. Ricks."
+
+Mr. Daniels hitched his chair close to his employer's desk. "Boss," he
+said, "I'm awful sorry, but I'm goin' soldiering."
+
+Cappy Ricks sprang to his feet with an oath. "You're not!" he shouted.
+"I won't hear of it. You're too valuable a man to go into the army and
+get yourself killed--particularly since you can do your share at home.
+Why, I was just going to write you and give you your orders for
+patriotic duty. You go back to the ranch, Sam, and get busy. Plant
+spuds, wheat, oats, barley, corn--plant all you can of it. Raise
+heifers, sheep, hogs, cows, bulls, calves, turkeys--everything that
+can be eaten. Raise horses--and in particular, raise mules."
+
+"I'd rather raise hell with a bunch of Germans," Sam Daniels declared
+feelingly.
+
+"Your job is to help produce cereals and canned beef for the
+hell-raisers," Cappy declared. "The army will want horses for the
+artillery and mules for the transport. Why, this war may last for
+years. Sam, you infernal scoundrel, you get back on the farm. You're
+forty-five years old and you've been shot and whittled enough in your
+day to last you the remainder of your natural life. Let the young
+fellows do the fighting abroad, while you and I and the other hasbeens
+do it at home."
+
+"I'd a heap rather lay off in the brush somewheres an' snipe Germans,"
+Mr. Daniels pleaded. "On the level, boss, if they'll give me a
+Springfield rifle with telescopic sights I'll guarantee to sicken
+anythin' I get a fair sight on at a thousand yards."
+
+"In-fer-nal scoundrel! How dare you argue with me! You get back on
+your job!"
+
+"Boss, I'm going into the army," Daniels announced sadly, but
+nevertheless firmly. "I'm givin' you a month's notice so you can get a
+man to take my place."
+
+Cappy surrendered. "All right, Sam. If you survive,  your job will be
+waiting for you when you get back. However, you needn't give me any
+notice. I'll have another man in charge of the ranch to-morrow, and
+you can enlist today."
+
+"And you're not sore at me, Mr. Ricks?"
+
+"Sam, I'm proud of you. Wish I were young enough to go it with you.
+Are you in a hurry to get to France?"
+
+"Certainly am."
+
+"Then join the marines. They always go first.  Good-bye, Sam. Good
+luck to you and God bless you! Draw your wages as you go out and tell
+the cashier I said to give you an extra month's wages for tobacco
+money."
+
+Mr. Daniels withdrew, visibly filled with emotion.  Ten minutes later
+Cappy Ricks, watching at his office window, saw Mr. Daniels cross the
+street and enter the marines' recruiting office. Immediately Cappy
+called that recruiting office on the telephone and asked for the
+doctor.
+
+"Look here, doctor!" he said. "In a few minutes a lanky, battle
+scarred rancher is coming in to be examined. I don't want him to
+enlist. He's my ranch manager and worth more to the country in his job
+than at the Front. You turn him down physically, doctor, and I'll
+guarantee to send you five fine recruits instead of that old fossil.
+His name is Sam Daniels, and I'm Alden P. Ricks, of the Blue Star
+Navigation Company, across the street."
+
+"We need an automobile to send our recruiting sergeant out through the
+state," the wary medico replied. "Now, if you could loan us one--"
+
+"I'll have my own car and chauffeur over in half an hour, and you keep
+him as long as you need him," Cappy piped. "Only tell Sam Daniels he's
+faltering on the brink of the grave and send him back to me."
+
+An hour later Mr. Daniels slouched into Cappy Ricks' office. "Well,
+Private Daniels," the old man saluted him, "you look downcast. Has
+something slipped?"
+
+"I should say it has. The doc over to the recruitin' office says I got
+a heart murmur from smoking cigarettes, which it's a cinch the
+excitement o' battle brings on death from heart failure, an' then
+folks would say I died o' fright."
+
+"He's crazy Sam! Tell him to go chase himself."
+
+"I guess he's right, Mr. Ricks. He 'most cried to let me go, an' was
+for waivin' the heart murmur, but it seems I got a floatin' kidney,
+an' flat feet. Gosh, I never knew I had flat feet, but then I've rid
+horses all my life an' ain't never hiked none to speak of."
+
+He was silent several minutes, studying the pattern of the office
+carpet. Presently he looked up. "Is my successor at the ranch already
+appointed?" he queried.
+
+"Go back to the fields and the kind-faced cows, Samuel," quoth Cappy
+gently. "Hurry, or you'll miss the train."
+
+Sam Daniels fled, and hard on his heels came Mrs.  Michael J. Murphy,
+_nee_ Miss Keenan. It will be recalled that prior to her happy
+alliance with Michael J. Murphy, Mrs. Murphy had been Cappy Ricks'
+favorite stenographer. He received her cordially.
+
+"Now then, what's gone wrong, my dear?" he  demanded. "Have you and
+Mike been making a hash of your married life that you should come in
+here on the verge of tears?"
+
+Mrs. Murphy blinked away a tear or two and sat down. "Some of the boys
+in the office will be enlisting, Mr. Ricks," she faltered. "I wonder
+if there might be a vacancy for me--if I might not have my old
+position back?"
+
+Cappy Ricks was genuinely concerned. "Why, Mike won't let you earn
+your living," he declared. "Why do you make such an extraordinary
+request?"
+
+"For Mike's sake, Mr. Ricks. Of late he has been very nervous and
+distrait; scarcely touches his meals, and thinks, talks and dreams of
+war. Last night he dreamed he was back in the navy and shouted out an
+order that woke him up."
+
+"Come to think of it, I believe Mike did spend several years in the
+navy prior to going into mercantile marine," Cappy observed. "So he
+has the war fever again, eh? Wants to go back?"
+
+"Ever since he received a letter from the Navy League. They're
+searching out all the old navy men--gun pointers particularly--and
+asking them to come back to help train the young fellows just coming
+into the service. Mike was a gun pointer--"
+
+"Well, what in thunder is he hesitating for?" Cappy piped wrathfully.
+
+"About me. Mike's married to me, you know, and he worries about what
+will happen to me if he should be killed. He knows I'll be
+broken-hearted if he enlists--he's afraid I'll not let him go. But if
+I got my job back and was self-supporting, Mike's conscience would
+be--"
+
+"Do you want him to go?"
+
+"No, Mr. Ricks, but he must go. I do not want to make a coward or a
+slacker out of Mike. I've got to do my part, you know."
+
+"My dear," said Cappy feelingly, "you're a noble woman. Go back and
+attend to your little home; Mike may go whenever he's ready and his
+salary with the Blue Star will go on while he is in the navy; his job
+will be waiting for him when he comes back. Good old Mike! How
+dreadful a crime to hobble that Irishman with a first-class fight in
+sight."
+
+When Mrs. Mike had left the office Cappy stiffened out suddenly in his
+chair, clenched his fists and closed his eyes, as if in pain. And
+presently between the wrinkled old lids two tears crept forth. Poor
+Cappy! He was finding it very, very hard to be old and little and out
+of the fight, for in every war in which the United States had engaged
+representatives of the tribe of Ricks had gladly offered their bodies
+for the supreme sacrifice, and as Cappy's active mind ran down the
+long and bloody list his heart swelled with anguish in the knowledge
+that he was doomed to play an inglorious part in the war with Germany.
+Mr. Skinner coming in with a letter to Cappy, observed the old man's
+emotion and asked him if he was ill.
+
+"Yes, Skinner, I am," he replied. "I'm sick at heart.  God has given
+me everything I ever wanted except six big strapping sons. Just think,
+Skinner, what a glorious honor would be mine if I had six fine boys to
+give to my country." His old lips trembled. "And you could bank on the
+Ricks boys," he added. "My boys would never wait to be drafted. No,
+sir-ree! When they heard the call they'd answer, like their ancestors.
+
+"Skinner, what has come over our boys of this generation?  Why don't
+they volunteer? Why does the President have to beg for men? Has the
+soul of the idealist been corroded by a life of ease? Did the spirit
+of adventure die with our forefathers? Is it any harder to die just
+because war has become more terrible--more deadly? Oh, Skinner,
+Skinner! To be young and tall and strong and whirled in the cycle of
+vast events--to play a man's part in a glorious undertaking--to feel
+that I have enriched the world with my efforts, however humble, or
+with my body revitalized the soil made fallow by a ravishing monster.
+I feel, Skinner--I feel so much and can do so little."
+
+Nevertheless, he did do something that very afternoon. One after the
+other he examined all the young men in his employ, discovered which of
+them could afford the luxury of enlisting and then asked them bluntly
+whether they were going to enlist. Three of them said they were, and
+Cappy promised each of them a month's salary the day he should report
+to him in uniform. Nine others appeared to be uncertain of their duty,
+so Cappy fired them all, to the great distress of Mr. Skinner and Matt
+Peasley. Cappy, however, turned a deaf ear to their remonstrances.
+
+"A man who won't fight for his country is no good," he declared; "and
+I won't keep a no-good son of a slacker on my pay roll. Get married
+men or men who have been rejected for military service to take the
+places of these bums who haven't courage enough even to try to
+enlist."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX
+
+
+
+
+
+The campaign for the Liberty bonds brought Cappy an appointment from
+the mayor as captain of a corps of volunteer bond salesmen to work the
+wholesale lumber and shipping trade, and for three weeks the old
+gentleman was as busy as the proverbial one-armed paper hanger with
+the itch. He was obsessed with a fear that the bond issue would be
+under-subscribed by about a billion and a half and result in the
+United States of America being accorded a hearty Teutonic horse laugh.
+Consequently he made five separate subscriptions on his own account,
+and just before the lists closed on the last day he was again overcome
+with apprehension and subscribed for an additional ten thousand
+dollars' worth for his grandson! When the result of the Liberty-bond
+campaign was made known he almost wept with joy and gave a wonderful
+dinner to his corps of salesmen, after which he went down to his ranch
+to rest for a week and see what Sam Daniels was up to.
+
+The morning he returned to town, prepared to leap, heart and soul into
+the hundred-million-dollar Red Cross drive, he had a visit from his
+port captain, Michael J. Murphy.
+
+"Well, sir," Murphy announced, "I've cleaned up all the little details
+in my department, your new port captain is on the job, and I'm about
+to go over to the naval training station on Goat Island and hold up my
+hand again. But before I go, sir, I want to express to you something
+of what I feel for what you've done for me and mine."
+
+"Tut, tut. Not another peep out of you, sir!" Cappy  commanded. To be
+thanked for anything always made him feel uncomfortable. "What branch
+of the service do you hope to get into, Mike?"
+
+"I want to get aboard a destroyer, sir, though they're the divil an'
+all to live aboard. They offer the best chance for action. Patrolling
+the submarine zone, you know."
+
+"Gosh," Cappy groaned; "everybody's got the submarines  on the brain,
+and I'm tagging along with the rest. Mike, I swear I can't sleep
+nights, thinking of this war. It breaks my heart to realize I'm out of
+it. And because I'm a shipping man, naturally my fool brain runs to
+submarines and how to control them. Mike, I have a great yearning to
+sink a submarine; the screams of those scoundrels aboard her would be
+music to my ears."
+
+"It's a serious problem," Murphy declared soberly; "but I'm hoping our
+Yankee ingenuity will solve it."
+
+"Well, we haven't done it to date, and in the meantime  all the nut
+inventors in the world are sending their nut ideas in to the National
+Council of Defense. Of course I have a bright idea too. I'm a great
+hand at hatching cute schemes, you know. However, I differ from the
+average submarine nut in this--that I want to try out my theory in
+practice before submitting it to an expectant world. Still, I'd need
+you to help me; and now that you're going into the navy I suppose I'll
+have to forget it."
+
+"I seem to remember a scheme of yours that resulted in the capture of
+a submarine last year," Murphy reminded the old man. "That was a bully
+scheme, and I'm willing to wager that the head which produced it can
+produce another just as good. Tell me your plan for eliminating
+submarines, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"My scheme doesn't contemplate a continuous performance," Cappy
+hastened to explain, "but it might work out once or twice--and in this
+great international emergency anything is worth trying once. I could
+demonstrate my theory in about two months--with your help."
+
+"Then," declared Michael J. Murphy, "I'll wait until you give the
+demonstration before enlisting in the navy."
+
+"Bully for you, Mike! I'll declare Terry Reardon in on the experiment
+also, for the reason that one of the ingredients required is a chief
+engineer with courage to spare. Now then, for my scheme: Do you know
+the _Costa Rica?_"
+
+"That old steamer that used to run to Panama for the Pacific Mail?"
+
+"The same."
+
+"What about her?"
+
+"She's in the bone yard--laid up for keeps, Mike.  Her plates are so
+thin and soft the least jar would punch a hole in her; she's wrecked
+and strained from fifty years of service; her engines are worn out,
+her boilers are burned out, her gear is antiquated, and even in these
+times of abnormal freight rates she's too far gone to patch up and
+keep running. They kicked her up in the mud of Oakland Inner Harbor
+yesterday, and there she'll be stripped of everything of value and
+left to rot. My plan, Mike, is to buy the old _Costa Rica_ for a
+couple of thousand dollars, turn Terence Reardon and his gang loose on
+her engines and boilers for a couple of weeks and take the old coffin
+out for one final voyage. She can make eight or nine knots in good
+weather, and if she's torpedoed the loss will be trifling. Will you
+run the risk and take her out for me, Mike?"
+
+"Yes, sir. What for?"
+
+"As a decoy."
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"We'll put a hand-picked crew aboard her, Mike; we'll arm her fore and
+aft with six-inch guns, which we can readily get from the navy now
+that it's the fashion to arm merchantmen; and then go cruising in the
+submarine zone. You can pick up a few old navy men for a gun crew and
+train some of the Costa Rica's crew, can't you?"
+
+"If we can get somebody to give me the range and manage to get the gun
+loaded somehow, I'll do the gun pointing; with half a chance I'll
+guarantee results."
+
+"And that is exactly what I plan to give you--half a chance," Cappy
+declared enthusiastically. "The Costa Rica isn't worth two hoots in a
+hollow, but she still looks enough like a steamer to attract
+submarines; and during this fine summer weather we can chance a final
+voyage with the old wreck."
+
+"Where do you get this 'we' stuff, Mr. Ricks?" Mike Murphy queried
+bluntly. "You're not figuring on going to sea in that coffin, are
+you?"
+
+"I most certainly am so figuring. I take my fun where I find it, Mike,
+and if I'm to plan and pay for this experiment--then, by gravy, I'm
+going to be on deck to watch it work out if it's the last act of my
+sinful career."
+
+"But if they fire on us you may be killed."
+
+"We'll be firm' back at 'em, won't we? And if I'm killed in action,
+won't that be a fitting finish for a Ricks?"
+
+"We may be afloat in an open boat for a week. I don't want you to die
+of exposure, sir."
+
+"Forget it, Mike! I've been charged off to profit and loss for so
+many years it makes me ill to think of them.  And you remember, my
+dear Mike,
+
+   _"'To every man upon this earth
+    Death cometh soon or late;
+    And how can man die better
+    Than facing fearful odds
+    For the ashes of his fathers
+    And the temples of his gods?'_
+
+Don't argue with me, Mike. My mind is quite made up. I'm going
+into action in this war, for, as I said before, I'll try anything
+once--particularly when it isn't very expensive and I can afford the
+luxury. We're going to buy the _Costa Rica_, take her into the
+submarine zone and lose her, but, by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, we'll
+take a submarine with us!"
+
+"Not if the German sees us first."
+
+Cappy leaned forward and laid his index finger  impressively on
+Michael J. Murphy's knee. "That's the only way we can hope to win," he
+declared. "We must make certain the submarine sees us first. Mike, a
+German is a rabid disciple of law and order; anything out of the usual
+run of things upsets him terribly; he never makes allowance for the
+unexpected or for the other fellow's point of view. To be more exact,
+Mike, I figure that German psychology is the only kind of psychology a
+German can understand. And to tell you the truth, Mike," he added
+musingly, "there are blamed few people who can understand mine."
+
+Michael J. Murphy nodded a vigorous indorsement to this last remark,
+and Cappy went on: "Do you think any proud and arrogant skipper of a
+German submarine would ever suspect an American citizen of such a
+harebrained scheme as the sending out of a rusty, creaking old
+rattletrap of a steamer that can't get out of her own way, for the
+avowed purpose of destroying him and his sub? No sir! His microphones
+will tell him, while he is still totally submerged, that his
+approaching prey is a slow poke and cannot possibly outrun him; then
+he'll come up, take a look and clinch his conclusions--after which he
+will attack."
+
+"True for you sir. He'll launch his torpedo and dive before I can get
+a shot at him or correct my range to hit him; then the torpedo will
+hit us and we'll go up like a shower of mush--probably with half a
+dozen men killed and nothing accomplished in the way of a return
+swat."
+
+"That was the program a few months ago," Cappy retorted triumphantly.
+"Have you noticed, however, that since merchantmen have been armed the
+submarines are more and more prone, when attacking in daylight, to
+pursue a steamer at a reasonable distance and rake her with shell
+fire? If a vessel is fired on and her skipper, looking back, notes the
+position of the submarine and realizes that he cannot possibly outrun
+her and that she outranges him, what does he do, Mike?"
+
+"He does the sensible thing. Heaves to to avoid loss of life, gets his
+men into the boats and abandons his ship to the Hun."
+
+"Precisely! And if the Hun thinks he is not likely to be disturbed for
+a couple of hours, what does he do?"
+
+"Why," said Murphy, "he comes aboard, removes all the stores he
+can--particularly engine oil--and strips the vessel of all her brass,
+copper and bronze fittings. These metals are very scarce in Germany
+and they need all they can get in the manufacture of munitions."
+
+"Correct! And we must bear in mind, Mike, the fact that a German is
+naturally thrifty; if he can sink a ship with shell fire or bombs set
+in her bilges he will not waste on her a torpedo that costs from ten
+to twenty thousand dollars. Now, will he?"
+
+"Well, I wouldn't, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"Then my plan is absurdly simple. We merely provide a  gorgeous
+opportunity for the enemy; we inculcate in him the idea that he is
+about to pick a soft one--then: Alas, poor Yorick!"
+
+Michael J. Murphy rose and put on his hat. "Where are you going,
+Mike?" Cappy demanded.
+
+"I'm going up to the navy yard at Mare Island," the port captain
+declared, "to see if I cannot pick up a couple of six-inch rifles of
+the model they used when I was in the navy. They're obsolete now, but
+I understand them--and while I'm getting the guns I'll pick up four or
+five old navy men. Leave it to me, Mr. Ricks."
+
+"We'll give 'em hell!" shouted Cappy.
+
+"We will!" quoth Michael J. Murphy with conviction.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LX
+
+
+
+
+
+Two weeks later the old _Costa Rica,_ looking somewhat youthful in a
+new coat of black paint and with a huge American flag painted on each
+topside, slipped quietly out of San Francisco in ballast and for the
+last time turned her nose toward Panama. In the brief period given him
+in which to overhaul her interior, Terence P. Reardon had accomplished
+wonders, and an hour after Mike Murphy had taken his bearings from
+Point San Pedro and laid out his course the chief came into the chart
+room to announce that the old girl was doing eight knots and, barring
+unexpected bad weather, would continue to do it without falling to
+pieces. "If I could have spint two thousand dollars more on her,"
+Terence declared, "I believe I could get another knot out av her. Time
+was whin she could do sixteen."
+
+Cappy Ricks, enjoying his afternoon cigar in the snug chart room,
+snorted vigorously. "I don't very often take a notion to throw my
+money into the sea, Terence," he reminded his port engineer, "but when
+I do get that reckless I limit myself to twenty thousand dollars, and
+that, in round figures, is what this old ruin will stand me about the
+time the torpedo blows you up on top of the fiddle. However, that is a
+trifling investment if we succeed in destroying a late-type German
+submarine with a couple of hundred thousand dollars' worth of
+torpedoes aboard. As a sporting proposition it's somewhat more
+expensive than golf, but the excitement makes up for the added cost."
+
+"The old box is alive with rats and bedbugs,"  Murphy complained.
+
+"If they annoy you, Mike, my boy, comfort yourself with the thought
+that they're all going to be drowned," Cappy replied gayly.
+
+Slowly the old packet wallowed down the coast, the while her crew,
+under Mike Murphy's supervision, built gun platforms fore and aft.
+Following their completion, the two six-inch guns Cappy had succeeded
+in getting from the navy were lifted out of the hold with the aid of
+the cargo winch and placed in position, one forward and the other aft.
+Thereupon the mate took charge of the _Costa Rica,_ while Mike Murphy
+drilled his crew in range finding and celerity in loading the piece.
+Pointing the gun was entirely up to Murphy and, needless to state, the
+task was in capable hands, as was frequently demonstrated during
+target practice as they loafed down the coast.
+
+Upon arrival at Panama the _Costa Rica's_ bunkers were replenished and
+an extra supply of sacked coal was piled on deck, for with her
+patched-up boilers the old steamer was a hog on fuel. Then the
+mechanics and carpenters and all men not vitally needed aboard for the
+remainder of the voyage were put ashore and furnished with
+transportation back to San Francisco by the regular Pacific Mail
+liner. Next, the name on the bows of the _Costa Rica_ was painted out,
+the name boards at each end of her bridge removed and the
+raised-letter record of her identity and home port chipped off her
+stern; following which Cappy Ricks, Terence P. Reardon and Michael J.
+Murphy commended their souls to their Creator, and the _Costa Rica_
+slipped leisurely through the ditch and out into the Caribbean Sea.
+
+Fourteen days later Mike Murphy dropped round to Cappy Ricks' cabin.
+"We're in the danger zone, sir," he announced. "And from now on we're
+liable to meet one of the larger type of U-boats that operate a couple
+of thousand miles from the base at Zeebrugge."
+
+"Very well," Cappy replied calmly. "Whether torpedoed or shelled, your
+instructions are the same. Forbid the wireless operator to send out a
+call for help, heave to immediately and get the men into the boats and
+away from the ship. Terry Reardon will remain on duty in the engine
+room, provided it isn't wrecked by a torpedo and the engine room crew
+killed; you and your gun crew will remain aboard and hide in the
+forecastle if it's action front, and in the auxiliary steering-gear
+house if it's action rear. I will relieve the quartermaster, take
+charge of the wheel and direct the action. If I see that there isn't
+going to be any action we'll put on life preservers, jump overboard
+and be picked up by our men in the boats. However, something tells me,
+Mike, that we're going to have a crack at--"
+
+At that very instant something rapped the _Costa Rica_ terrifically on
+the starboard side amidships and tore through her with a grinding,
+wrenching noise, followed by an explosion.
+
+"There's the crack you were speaking of, sir," Murphy yelled and
+started for the door. Cappy Ricks grasped him frantically by the arm.
+"Was that a shell or a torpedo?" he cried. His voice, thin and shrill
+with age, quavered now with excitement.
+
+"It was a shell," Murphy answered. "Went through the second cabin."
+
+"Then that German belongs to Alden P. Ricks," Cappy declared, and
+scurried for the pilot house. "Out and into life-boats!" he ordered
+the quartermaster, and shoved him away from the wheel. "Set her over
+to slow speed ahead," he called to the mate, who was standing
+stupidly, gazing at the white puffs of smoke that marked the position
+of the submarine two miles off the starboard bow. The mate came to
+life, jammed over the handle of the marine telegraph and, obeying an
+order bellowed to him by Mike Murphy from the main deck, abandoned the
+bridge for the boat deck, there to superintend the task of getting the
+men away from the ship.
+
+His first thrill of excitement having subsided, Cappy carefully drew
+the little half curtains on the pilot-house window, leaving a small
+slit through which he could observe the submarine without being
+observed himself, for it was no part of his plan to disclose to the
+enemy the fact that the ship was not entirely deserted--and that the
+submarine commander should jump to the conclusion that she was
+deserted by all hands was precisely the condition that Cappy desired
+to bring about.
+
+Down in the engine room the indomitable Terence Reardon, with one hand
+on the throttle and one eye on the steam gauge, put the _Costa Rica_
+under a dead-slow bell; she seemed scarcely to move, yet she had
+sufficient steerage way to enable Cappy to keep her pointed in the
+general direction of the submarine, the commander of which, seeing the
+crew of the Costa Rica scurrying for the boats, contented himself with
+sending over half a dozen shells for the purpose of hurrying them
+along; then he ceased firing, and when the boats pulled out from the
+ship in tow of a motor lifeboat and his powerful glasses showed
+neither guns nor sign of life upon the _Costa Rica's_ decks, he did
+exactly what Cappy Ricks figured he would do.
+
+He circled warily round his prize, but the absence of frantic wireless
+calls for help lulled his suspicions, and presently he bore down upon
+her, hove to two cable lengths abreast the wallowing hulk and watched
+her fully five minutes for a possible trap, for the absence of any
+name puzzled him. His suspicions subsided at length, however, the
+hatch in her turtle deck slid back and men appeared, dragging up a
+small collapsible boat.
+
+Slowly, slowly--so gradually that it seemed the old vessel was merely
+drifting, Cappy brought the _Costa Rica_ round until her bow pointed
+toward the submarine. Mike Murphy, standing just inside the forecastle
+door, kept his glance on the slit in the curtains on the pilot-house
+window-and presently Cappy motioned violently to him.
+
+"To the gun!" ordered the captain. Followed by his gun crew he dashed
+out of the forecastle and up the companion ladder to the forecastle
+head. A jerk at a lever connecting a cunningly constructed set of
+controls, and the false topsides on the forecastle head flopped to the
+deck, revealing Mike Murphy's six-inch gun. Cappy saw him deflect the
+gun while another man traversed it; for five seconds his eyes pressed
+the sight, and when the gun remained motionless Cappy knew that the
+hull of the submarine was looming fairly on the intersection of the
+cross wires in the sight. The range was point-blank!
+
+Quick as were Murphy and his crew, however, the gun crew of the
+submarine was quicker. Before the _Costa Rica's_ gun was properly
+laid, a shell from the submarine flew a foot over the heads of the
+Murphyites and burst fifty yards beyond the ship. "Ah, missed!"
+breathed Michael J. and raised his hand. The gunner released the
+firing pin and the six-inch projectile with which the gun had been
+loaded for two days crashed into the submarine at her water line.
+
+A terrific explosion followed the shot. Cappy Ricks, gazing popeyed
+with horror, saw the submarine disintegrate and disappear in a huge
+water-spout; when the water settled only a vast and widening smear of
+heavy fuel oil showed where she had been.
+
+From the forecastle head Michael Murphy yelled to Cappy Ricks. "Well,
+are you satisfied, sir?" On his part, Cappy, jubilant, even in the
+instant when he knew thirty new faces were already whining round the
+devil, dashed out on the bridge, seized the whistle cord and swung on
+it. A sad, nautical sob from the _Costa Rica's_ siren answered him,
+and ten seconds later Terence Reardon whistled up the bridge. Cappy
+let go the whistle cord and took up the speaking tube. "Hello," he
+piped.
+
+"What the divil do ye mean be blowin' that whistle?" roared Terence,
+thinking he was addressing the mate. "Wit' me alone in the engine room
+how d'ye expect me to keep shteam up on this ould hooker wit' you
+blowin' it off in the whistle! Take shame to yourself!"
+
+"Mike sunk the submarine! Mike sunk the submarine!" Cappy shrilled
+over and over again. "Come up, Terence, and see the oil. See the oil,
+Terence, see the oil! Mike sunk the submarine, Mike sunk it. Bully for
+Mike! Oh, bully! Bully! Bully! Mike sunk it, but I schemed it. Come
+up, Terence, I'm going to faint."
+
+And then, with shrill yips of delirious delight he slid down the
+companion to the main deck, to be gathered in Michael J. Murphy's arms
+and hugged and passed to the gun crew, who hoisted him to their
+shoulders and paraded joyously and blasphemously round the deck.
+
+"I told you he wouldn't use a torpedo if he could do the trick with
+shells," Gappy shouted. "I told you he'd board us if we didn't
+wireless for help. Ha, ha, ha! Te-hee!" And he burst into shrill
+cachinnations. "I out-thought the scoundrel--goin' to get a patent on
+my idea--turn it over to the Government--oh, Mike! Oh, Terence! Get
+the steward back aboard. We must have some liquor. They used to serve
+grog in the old navy after a victory, didn't they? Yi-yi-yi!"
+
+Terence P. Reardon came up and proffered his greasy paw, the while his
+quizzical glance swept the oily sea. "Well, sor," he remarked
+philosophically, "what wit' bein' a Christian I'm a little bit sorry
+the Dutchman lost, but back av that again I'm a little bit glad we
+won. Michael, do you get those blackguards o' mine down below as quick
+as ye can, or we'll be all day gettin' shteam up agin in this ould
+brute av a ship."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER LXI
+
+
+
+
+
+Two days passed uneventfully; then shortly before sunset on the third
+day the look-out reported a periscope about a thousand yards distant
+and three points off the port bow. Cappy Ricks' old knees promptly
+commenced to knock together with excitement.
+
+"Here's where Terence gets that torpedo if he doesn't come up out of
+the engine room," Mike Murphy remarked laconically, and promptly
+whistled Terence on the engine room speaking tube. "Come up or be
+blown up," he yelled.
+
+"Divil a fear! We're comin'," Terence replied.
+
+The chief and his crew had just reached the deck when the black
+shining turtleback of the submarine broke water.
+
+"They have to come to the surface to discharge a torpedo," Murphy
+explained to Cappy Ricks.
+
+"Great Godfrey! Here it comes!" shrilled Cappy, and watched,
+fascinated, the wake of the torpedo as it raced toward them. Just as
+Terence Reardon and his engine crew came panting up on the bridge, the
+old _Costa Rica_ walked into it. "Me ingine room! I knew it!" cried
+Terence. Then the explosion came.
+
+From where he lay on his back, half stunned, Cappy Ricks saw water and
+wreckage fly high in the air. The _Costa Rica_ shivered. So did Cappy.
+Then the debris descended, and Cappy, choked with salt water, dimly
+realized that Terence Reardon had him in his arms and was carrying him
+down to the boat deck, where the motor lifeboat swung wide in the
+davits.
+
+"Here, take the boss from me," Terence commanded, and passed Cappy to
+a negro fireman, who carried the old man forward and laid him on a
+pile of blankets, previously placed there for just such an emergency.
+
+Then the lifeboat commenced to drop away from the towering black
+topside and Cappy was aware of Michael J. Murphy's face--white,
+anxious, terrified--gazing down at him from the ship's rail.
+
+"I'm just suffering from the shock," Cappy called.  "Mike, you 'tend
+to business. Remember what I told you and tell the crew to keep their
+mouths shut. He'll do the natural thing and walk into your hand."
+
+Murphy, reassured, waved his hand, and with his gun crew fled aft to
+the little house that protected the auxiliary steering gear from the
+weather, where they concealed themselves. In the meantime the other
+lifeboats had been lowered away; the painter from the third boat was
+passed to the second, which in turn passed its painter to the motor
+boat, and the ship's company hauled clear of the shattered, sinking
+ship. The _Costa Rica_ was going down by the head, and Cappy, curious
+as any human being, sat up to watch his decoy disappear.
+
+The submarine steamed up to them. "What vessel is that?" her commander
+shouted from the conning tower in excellent English.
+
+"The American steamer _Soak-it-to-'em_, of Rotten Row," Cappy Ricks
+replied, "carrying a cargo of post holes. She has three decks and no
+bottom."
+
+"How do you spell the name?" the German bawled.
+
+"Can't hear you," Cappy fibbed. Then, _sotto voce_, to Mr. Reardon:
+"Kick her ahead, Terry."
+
+"How do you spell the name?" the submarine captain repeated.
+
+Cappy jibbered something unintelligible, and Mr.  Reardon added to the
+puzzle by bellowing the information that the _p_ was silent, as in
+pneumonia. All this time the motor boat was putting distance between
+itself and the submarine, and the disgusted German, as a last resort,
+steamed away and circled round the rapidly lifting stern of the doomed
+_Costa Rica_, confident that there he would find the record of her
+identity and home port--information which, in his methodical German
+way, he desired to include in his official report to the Admiralty.
+And while he ratched slowly past, striving to find with his binoculars
+that which was not, Michael J. Murphy and his bully boys came aft with
+a rush, tore aside the tarpaulin that screened the stern gun and
+expeditiously opened fire. To Cappy Ricks' horror Murphy's first shot
+was a clean miss, and instantly the big sub started to submerge with a
+hoarse sucking sound that brought despair to Cappy Ricks' heart. She
+was halfway under before Murphy's gun was reloaded, but quite calmly
+the gun was traversed and deflected until the black stern flashed
+across the intersection of the wires in the sight; then Murphy's hand
+dropped and the gun roared.
+
+"That'll do nicely, lads," he told his crew. "Tore the stern off her
+that time; and from this dive she'll not come up. Cappy Ricks was
+right. He banked on human nature, and if curiosity isn't a human trait
+then I'm a Chinaman. Overboard with you, and away before the old girl
+goes under or we'll be sucked down in the vortex."
+
+And overboard they went, to be picked up five minutes later by Terence
+and Cappy in the motor lifeboat. "You were right, Mr. Ricks," cried
+Murphy as he scrambled into the boat. "Curiosity killed the cat!"
+
+"Yes, and it's blamed near killed me," Cappy declared feebly. "Some of
+that debris came down and hit me a slap on the dome--Jerusalem! There
+goes my decoy--peace to her bones!"
+
+The _Costa Rica_ dove to the Port of Missing Ships.  Michael J.
+Murphy, however, did not turn to see her disappear; he was gazing,
+instead, at a thin red trickle that came from under Cappy's cap band
+and was running down his wizened neck. "Mr. Ricks," he said anxiously,
+"you're wounded."
+
+Cappy rubbed the sore spot, and when he withdrew his fingers they were
+bloody.
+
+"By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet!" he gasped wonderingly. "You're right,
+Mike. I've been wounded in action with the enemies of my country! So
+help me, Mike. I've actually lived to shed my blood for the Stars and
+Stripes, like any other Ricks."
+
+He gazed wonderingly at Mike Murphy. "Now I can die happy," he
+murmured. "I've done my bit."
+
+"Yes, begorra," rumbled Terence P. Reardon, "an' if I have my way
+about it ye're honorably discharged from the service this minute,
+Misther Ricks. I'll gallivant no more wit' you in ye're ould
+breadbaskets av shteamers. 'Tis highly dangerous an' no business for a
+man of family."
+
+Mike Murphy grinned at his colleague. "For all that, Terence," he
+declared, "you must admit that Mr. Ricks' scheme for destroying
+submarines is the only practical one yet devised."
+
+"Thrue for ye, Michael. But shtill, like all fine invintions, the
+idjea has its dhrawbacks. Now if we could only be sure av a continyous
+supply av ould ships for use as decoys--"
+
+"I see a smudge of smoke," cried Gappy Ricks.
+
+Mike Murphy followed the old man's pointing finger.  "There's only one
+kind of boat makes a smudge like that," he declared; "and it's a
+destroyer. Safe and well out of a glorious adventure. Faith, we're the
+lucky devils; and by this and by that, I'll enlist aboard that
+destroyer, now that I'm here on the job."
+
+"Do--an' good luck to you!" murmured Terence.
+
+"Amen," said Cappy Ricks, and fingered his trifling but honorable
+wound. "Gosh!" he murmured. "If Skinner could only know a thrill
+like this!"
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cappy Ricks Retires, by Peter B. Kyne
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