amed:
"Back that main yard!" Matt felt that should anything like that happen
to him in steam and the news should ever leak out, he would have to go
back to the Atlantic Coast rather than face the gibes of his shipmates
on the Pacific.

The passenger boat from Victoria picked him up and set him down in
Seattle that night, and the following morning he boarded a train for San
Francisco to report to Cappy Ricks.

At luncheon in the dining car that day Matt Peasley found himself seated
opposite a man who had boarded the train with him at Seattle. As the
young captain plied his knife and fork he was aware that this
person's gaze rested with something more than casual interest on
his--Matt's--left forearm; whereupon the latter realized that his
vis-a-vis yearned to see more of a little decoration which, in the pride
of his first voyage, Matt had seen fit to have tattooed on the aforesaid
forearm by the negro cook. So, since he was the best-natured young man
imaginable, Matt decided presently to satiate his neighbor's curiosity.

"It's a lady climbing a ladder," he announced composedly and drew back
his sleeve to reveal this sample of black art. "I have a shield and an
eagle on my breast and a bleeding heart, with a dagger stuck through it,
on my right forearm."

"I didn't mean to be rude," the other answered, flushing a little. "I
couldn't help noticing the chorus lady's shapely calves when you speared
that last pickle; so I knew you were a sailor. I concluded you were an
American sailor before I learned that you advertise the fact on your
breast, and I was wondering whether you belong in the navy or the
merchant marine."

"I'm from blue water," Matt replied pleasantly. "You're in the shipping
business, I take it."

"Almost--I'm a ship, freight and marine insurance broker." And the
stranger handed over a calling card bearing the name of Mr. Allan Hayes.
"I'm from Seattle."

"Peasley is my name, Mr. Hayes," Matt answered heartily, glad of this
chance acquaintance with a man with whom he could converse on a subject
of mutual interest. "I haven't any post-office address," he added
whimsically.

"Going over to Columbia River to join your ship, I daresay," Mr. Hayes
suggested.

"No, sir. I'm bound for San Francisco, to get a job in steam and work up
to a captaincy."

"Wherein you show commendable wisdom, Mr. Peasley," the broker answered.
"A man can get so far in a windjammer--a hundred a month in the little
coasting