Cappy Ricks Part 39

"Then," said Cappy Ricks, "in about two hours at the latest we may expect a mournful visit from Captain Matt Peasley."

"If you don't mind, Mr. Ricks," said Skinner with a smirk, "I should dearly love to be present at the interview."

Cappy smiled brightly.

"By all means, Skinner, my dear boy; by all means, since you wish it. It just about breaks my heart to think of the cargo of grief I'm going to slip that boy; but I have resolved to be firm, Skinner. He owes us eighteen thousand dollars and he must go through with his contract to the very letter, and pay the Blue Star Navigation Company every last cent due it. He will, doubtless, suggest some sort of settlement--ten cents on the dollar--"

"Don't agree to it," Mr. Skinner pleaded. "He has more than a thousand dollars a month going to his credit on our books from the Unicorn charter, and if that vessel stays afloat a year longer we'll be in the clear. Be very firm with him, Mr. Ricks. As you say, it is all for his own benefit and the experience will do him a whole lot of good."

"I love the boy," said Cappy; "but in the present case, Skinner, I haven't any heart. A chunk of anthracite coal is softer than that particular organ this morning. Be sure to show Matt in the minute he comes up from the dock."

Mr. Skinner needed no urging when, less than two hours later, Captain Matt Peasley arrived. Mr. Skinner greeted him courteously and followed him into Cappy's office.

"Well, well, well!" Cappy began unctuously. "How do you do, Matt, my dear boy? Glad to see you; in fact, we're extra glad to see you," he added significantly and winked at Mr. Skinner, who caught the hint and murmured loud enough for Matt Peasley to hear:

"Eighteen thousand dollars to-morrow!"

Cappy extended a hand, which Matt grasped heartily.

"You're looking fit as a fiddle," Cappy continued. "Doesn't look a bit worried--does he, Skinner?"

"I must admit he appears to carry it off very well, Mr. Ricks. We had thought, captain," Skinner continued, turning to Matt Peasley, "that, when Mr. Ricks agreed to permit you to a.s.sume command of the Tillic.u.m when she reached Panama, we might have been treated to an exhibition of speed; but the fact of the matter is that instead of economizing on time you are about ten days in excess of the period it would have taken for Captain Grant to have discharged his cargo and gotten back to San Francisco." He winked at Cappy Ricks, who returned the wink.

"You mean in ballast," Matt suggested. Skinner nodded. "Oh, well, that accounts for it," Matt continued serenely. "I came home with a cargo of steel rails."

Cappy Ricks slid out to the extreme edge of his swivel chair; and, with a hand on each knee, he gazed at Matt Peasley over the rims of his spectacles. Mr. Skinner started violently.

"You came home with a cargo of steel rails?" Cappy demanded incredulously.

"Certainly! Do you suppose I would go to the expense of hiring somebody else to skipper the Tillic.u.m while I was there with my license? Not by a jugful! I was saving every dollar I could. I had to."

"Er--er--Where is Captain Grant?" Skinner demanded.

"Captain Grant is free, white and twenty-one. He goes where he pleases without consulting me, Mr. Skinner. He means nothing in my life--so why should I know where he is?"

"You infernal scoundrel!" shrilled Cappy Ricks. "You whaled h.e.l.l out of him and threw him out on the dock at Panama--that's what you did to him!

You took the Tillic.u.m away from him by force."

"Captain Grant is a fine, elderly gentleman, sir," Matt interrupted. "I would not use force on him. He left the ship of his own free will at San Diego, California."

"At San Diego?" Cappy and Skinner cried in unison.

"At San Diego."

"But you said you were going to Panama on the City of Para, the regular pa.s.senger liner," Cappy challenged.

"Well, I wasn't committed to that course, sir. After leaving your office I changed my mind. I figured the Tillic.u.m was somewhere off the coast of Lower California; so I wirelessed Captain Grant, explained to him that the ship was back on my hands by reason of the failure of Morrow & Company, and ordered him to put into San Diego for further orders. He proceeded there; I proceeded there; we met; I presented your letter relieving him of his command. Simple enough, isn't it?"

"But what became of him?"

"How should I know, sir? I've been as busy as a bird dog down in Panama.

Please let me get on with my story. I had just cleared Point Loma and was about to surrender the bridge to my first mate when an interesting little message came trickling out of the ether--and my wireless boy picked it up, because it was addressed to 'Captain Grant, Master S. S.

Tillic.u.m.'"

Cappy Ricks quivered and licked his lower lip, but said nothing.

"That message," Matt continued, "was brought to me by the operator, who really didn't know what to do with it. Captain Grant had left the ship and Sparks didn't know what hotel in San Diego the late master of the Tillic.u.m would put up for the night; so I read the message to see whether it was important, for I felt that it had to do with the ship's business and that I was justified in reading it."

Again Cappy Ricks squirmed. Mr. Skinner commenced to gnaw his thumb nail.

"That message broke me all up," Matt continued sadly. "It destroyed completely my faith in human nature and demonstrated beyond a doubt that there is no such thing in this world as fair play in business. It's like a waterfront fight. You just get your man down and everything goes--kicking, biting, gouging, knee-work!" Matt sighed dolorously and drew from his vest pocket a sc.r.a.p of paper. "Just listen to this for a message!" He continued. "Just imagine how nice you'd feel, Mr. Ricks, if you were skippering a boat and picked up a message like this at sea:

"'Grant, Master Steamer Tillic.u.m: Gave Captain Matt Peasley a letter to you yesterday ordering you to turn over command of Tillic.u.m to him on presentation or demand. This on his request and on his insistence, as per clause in charter party, copy of which you have. Peasley leaves to-day for Panama on City of Para. This will be your authority for declining to surrender the ship to him when he comes aboard there. Stand pat! Letter with complete instructions for your guidance follows on City of Para.

"Ricks.'"

Cappy Ricks commenced tapping one foot nervously against the other, Mr.

Skinner coughed perfunctorily, while Matt withered each with a rather sorrowful glance.

"Of course you can imagine the shock this gave me. I give you my word that for as much as five seconds I didn't know what to do; but after that I got real busy. I swung the ship and came ramping back to San Diego harbor, slipped ash.o.r.e in the small boat and found Captain Grant at the railroad station buying a ticket for San Francisco. I had to wait and watch the ticket office for an hour before he showed up, and when he did I made him a proposition. I told him that if he would agree to keep away from the office of the Blue Star Navigation Company you might think he was peeved at being relieved of his command so peremptorily, and hence would not attach any importance to his failure to report at the office.

"In consideration of this I gave him my word of honor that he would be restored to his command as soon as I could bring the Tillic.u.m back from Panama, and meantime his salary would continue just the same--in proof of which I gave him a check for two months' pay in advance. He said he thought it all a very queer proceeding; but, since he was no longer in command of the Tillic.u.m, it wasn't up to him to ask questions, and he agreed to my proposition. However, he said he thought he ought to wire the company acknowledging receipt of their instructions with reference to surrendering his command--and I agreed with him that he should.

'But,' I said, 'why bother sending such a message, collect, ash.o.r.e, when we pay a flat monthly rate to the wireless company for the plant and operator aboard the ship, no matter how many messages we send? Give me your message to Mr. Ricks and when I get back aboard the Tillic.u.m I'll wireless it to him for you, and it won't cost the ship a cent extra.'

"Well, you know your own captains, Mr. Ricks. They'll save their ships a dollar wherever they can; and simple, honest Old Man Grant agreed to my suggestion. Before he had an opportunity to consider I stepped to the telegraph office and wrote this message for him." Matt produced another telegram and read:

"'Blue Star Navigation Company,

"'258 California Street, San Francisco.

"'Instructions with reference to change of masters received.

"Would feel badly if I thought any act of mine necessitated change; but since my conscience is clear I shall not worry. I always have done and always shall do my duty to my owners without thought of my personal interests, and you may rely fully on that in the present emergency.'"

"Well, sir, that sounded so infernally grandiloquent to Old Man Grant that his hand actually trembled with emotion as he signed it--at my suggestion. You know I'd hate to be tried for forgery. Then I shook hands with him and started for Panama once more--only this time I kept right on going; and I didn't spare the fuel oil either. Why should I? It wasn't costing me anything."

Both Cappy and Mr. Skinner winced, as from a blow. Matt waited for them to say something, but they didn't; so after a respectful interval he resumed:

"Off the Coronado Islands I sent you Captain Grant's diplomatic message.

I was very glad to send it to you, Mr. Ricks, because I knew its receipt would make you very happy, and I like to scatter happiness wherever I can. The Scriptures say we should return good for evil."

Cappy Ricks bounded to his feet and shook a skinny fist under Matt Peasley's nose.

"You're a d.a.m.ned scoundrel!" he piped, beside himself with rage. "Be careful how you talk to me, young man, or I'll lose my temper; and if I ever do--"

"That would be terrible, wouldn't it?" Matt laughed. "I suppose you'd just haul off and biff me one, and I'd think it was autumn with the leaves falling!"

Cappy choked, turned purple, sat down again, and glanced covertly at Mr.