Hudner, manager of the Black Butte Lumber Company, arched his eyebrows as Matt Peasley entered his office half an hour after he had left it and presented for Hudner's signature a formal charter party, in duplicate, wherein the Blue Star Navigation Company chartered from J. B. Hudner, managing owner of record, the American Steamer Unicorn for sixty days from date, at the rate of three hundred and twenty-five dollars a day, said managing owner to pay all expenses of operating said Unicorn.
"Huh!" Mr. Hudner snorted. "I'd like to know what the devil Cappy Ricks wants of my Unicorn when he's got her infernal sister squatting in the mud of Oakland Creek? There's something rotten in Denmark, Mr. Peasley. There always is when that old scoundrel Ricks does incomprehensible things."
"Very likely he's up to some skullduggery, sir," Matt opined.
"I wish you had informed me of the identity of your client, Mr. Peasley," Hudner complained. "I don't like to sign this charter."
"I cannot help that now, sir," Matt retorted. "You have agreed in writing to charter the vessel to any responsible person I might bring to you, and I guess the Blue Star Navigation Company comes under that head."
Mr. Hudner sighed and gritted his teeth. Instinct told him there was deviltry afoot, but in an evil moment he had sewed himself up and he had no alternative now save to complete the contract or stand suit. So he signed the charter party and retained the original, while Matt Peasley, with the duplicate in his pocket, hastened back to Cappy Ricks' office.
"Matt," said Cappy approvingly, "you're a born business man, and it will be strange indeed if you don't pick up a nice little piece of money on this Unicorn deal." He glanced at his watch and then turned to his daughter.
"Florry, my dear," he said, "would you like to go up-town with your daddy and Captain Peasley for luncheon?"
Matt Peasley grinned like a Jack-o'-lantern, all lit up for Hallowe'en.
"Fine!" he said enthusiastically.
Florence withered him with one impersonal glance, saw that she had destroyed him utterly, relented, and graciously acquiesced. When they left the office Matt Peasley was stepping high, like a ten-time winner, for he had suddenly made the discovery that life ashore was a wonderful, wonderful thing. There was such a lilt in his young heart that, for the life of him, he could not forbear doing a little double shuffle as he waited at the elevator with Cappy and his daughter. He sang:
"The first mate's boat was the first away; But the whale gave a flip of his tail, And down to the bottom went five brave boys, Never again to sail-- Brave boys, Never again to sail! When the captain heard of the loss of his whale, Right loud-lee then he swore. When he heard of the loss of his five brave boys, 'Oh,' he said, 'we can ship some more brave boys-- 'Oh,' he said, 'we can ship some more.'"
Cappy winked slyly at his daughter, but she did not see the wink. She had eyes for nobody but Matt Peasley, for he was a brand-new note in her life. They were half through luncheon before Florry discovered the exact nature of this fascinating new note. Matt Peasley was real. There was not an artificial thought or action in his scheme of things; he bubbled with homely Yankee wit; he was intensely democratic and ramping with youth and health and strength and the joy of living; he could sing funny little songs and tell funny little stories about funny little adventures that had befallen him. She liked him.
After luncheon Cappy declared that Matt should return to the office with him, while Florry instructed the waiter to ring for a taxicab for her. Later, when Matt gallantly handed her into the taxi, he asked innocently:
"Where are you going, Miss Florry?"
"Home," she said.
He looked at her so wistfully that she could not mistake the hidden meaning in his words when he asked, with a deprecatory grin:
"Where do you live?"
"With my father," she said, and closed the door.
When Cappy and Matt returned to the Blue Star offices they were informed that Mr. Allan Hayes was patiently awaiting the arrival of the managing owner of the Lion. Matt concluded, therefore, to remain secluded while Cappy went into his own office and met Mr. Hayes.
Two hours later Cappy summoned Skinner and Matt to his sanctum.
"Skinner," he said briskly, "have you bought any shingles?"
"I have not," said Mr. Skinner.
"Have you sent out those telegrams to the dealers?"
"Not yet, Mr. Ricks. I was going to have them filed just before we close the office."
"Well," said Cappy smilingly, "don't accept any quotations until to-morrow and don't send out those telegrams until further advice from me. I locked horns with that man Hayes, and I think I gored him, Matt. It appeared he called on me first; and when I quoted him four hundred dollars a day on the Lion, he favored me with a sweet smile and said he could get the Unicorn for three-fifty. So, of course, I had to explain to him that he couldn't, because I wouldn't charter her at any such ridiculous figure! That took the ginger out of him and we got down to business, with the result that I've given him a forty-eight-hour option on both boats at four hundred dollars a day each, with a commission of two thousand dollars cash in full to him."
"Why, he told me he would get two and a half per cent. commission!" Matt declared. "He figured he'd have an income of twenty dollars a day for the next four years."
"I daresay he did, Matt," Cappy replied dryly; "but then, in the very best business circles you never pay a broker two and a half commission when you know who his principals are! If he insists, you eliminate him entirely and do business direct. Of course, my boy, if he had put the proposition up to me, and I had agreed to pay him the regular commission while ignorant of the identity of his principals, and he had then reposed confidence in my business honor and told me whom he represented, he would have been perfectly safe. Remember, Matt, that the business man without a code of business honor never stays in business very long. From the office to the penitentiary or the cemetery is a quick jump for birds of that feather."
"Then, why did you offer him two thousand dollars?"'
"Because it never pays to be a hog, my son, and besides I want to close this deal and close it quickly. Naturally Hayes isn't fool enough to toss away two thousand dollars, and something seems to tell me he'll urge his principals to take the boats at our figure, Matthew!" And the graceless old villain chuckled and dug his youngest skipper in the short ribs. "Let this be a lesson to you, my boy," he warned him. "Remember the old Persian proverb: 'A shut mouth catches no flies.'"
Cappy's prediction proved to be correct, for the following morning Hayes telephoned that the Mannheim people desired the steamers at Cappy's figures, the charter parties, signed by Cappy, were forwarded to Seattle, and in due course were returned signed by the charterers; whereupon Cappy exercised his option, procured by Matt from Hudner, to charter the Unicorn for four years additional.
"What did Hudner have to say for himself?" Cappy queried when Matt returned from the latter's office, after finally completing the deal.
"Not a word! He looked volumes, though, sir."
"Serves him right. That man, sir, is a thorn in the side of the market. However, since we're making a daily profit on him we can afford to speak kindly of the unfortunate fellow, Matt; so sit down and we'll figure out where we stand on the Unicorn. She costs us three-twenty-five and we've chartered her at four hundred--a daily profit of seventy-five dollars, of which you receive thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents. That makes eleven hundred and twenty-five dollars monthly income for you, my boy; and, believe me, it isn't to be sneezed at. Meantime you and I, as partners, owe me a thousand dollars commission to that Seattle broker; so I'll have Skinner make a journal entry and charge your account five hundred dollars. There's no need to pay it now, Matt. Wait until the vessel earns it."
"The vessel might sink on her first voyage and that would cancel the charter," Matt replied; "so I guess I'll be a sport and hold up my end. You paid out the hard cash and took a chance, and so will I." And, with the words, Matt drew from his pocket the Black Butte Lumber Company's check for a thousand dollars, indorsed it and passed it over to Cappy Ricks. "We're equal partners, sir," he said, "and I pried that thousand out of Hudner on the side as a commission for chartering the Unicorn to you. Half of it is yours and I owe you the other half; so there you are."
Cappy Ricks threw up his hands in token of complete surrender.
"Scoundrel!" he cried. "Damned young scoundrel! You Yankee thief, haven't you any conscience?" And he laid his old head on his desk and laughed his shrill, senile laugh, while tears of joy rolled down his rosy old cheeks. "Oh-h-h-h, my!" he cackled. "But wait until I get Hudner among my young friends at the Round Table up at the Commercial Club to-morrow! To think of a young pup like you coming in and chasing an old dog like Hudner round the lot and taking his bone away from him!"
He turned to the general manager:
"Oh, Skinner! Skinner, my dear boy, this will be the death of me yet! Remember that old maid stenographer Hudner stole away from us, Skinner? Remember? Oh, but isn't he paying for her through the nose? Isn't he, Skinner? Oh, dear! Oh, dear, what a lot of fun there is in just living and raising hell with your neighbor--particularly, Skinner, when he happens to be a competitor."
When Cappy could control his mirth he handed the money back to Matt.
"Oh, Matt, my dear young bandit," he informed that amazed young man, "I'm human. I can't take this money. It's been worth a thousand dollars to have had this laugh and to know I've got a lad like you growing up in my employ. You're worth a bonus, Matt; I'll stand all the commission. Soak Hudner's thousand away in the bank, Matt; or, better still--Here! Here; let's figure, Matt: You had sixteen hundred saved up and you've loaned a thousand on that mortgage. Now you've made a thousand more. Better buy a good thousand-dollar municipal bond, Matt. That's better than savings-bank interest, and you can always realize on the bond. I'll buy the bond for you."
"Thank you, sir," Matt replied.