ound Cappy Ricks was back from Europe
and on the job.

"I hear you've been having some experience," said Cappy cheerfully as
he shook hands with his manager. "Peasley was telling me what he did to
you, and all the disrespectful things he said to you. Skinner, my dear
fellow, that was an outrageous way for him to act."

"I fired him," said Skinner waspishly. "And while we're on the subject
let me declare myself about this man Peasley; as long as I remain in
your employ, Mr. Ricks, that man must never command another Blue Star
vessel. Do I make myself sufficiently clear?"

"You do, Skinner; you do, indeed," Cappy answered. "I warned Matt that
if you ever fired him, I'd have to back you up--and I'll do it, Skinner.
I'll sustain your decision, my boy. As long as you're my manager that
fellow can never go to sea under the Blue Star flag. The scoundrel!"

"And I wouldn't recommend him to any other owner either," Mr. Skinner
suggested.

"I'll not, Skinner. He will never go to sea again. I'm not going to have
his license taken away from him--er-- Hum! Ahem! Harump-h-h-h! But
I'll see that he doesn't use it again. The fact is, Skinner, I'm
er--getting--old--and--er--you're pretty hard-worked in the lumber
department, so I've--Hum! Harump-h-h-h! decided to relieve you of the
shipping entirely and hire Matt for our port captain. He's on the pay
roll at three hundred a month. And--er--Skinner, try to be friendly with
the boy for my sake. The young rascal is engaged to marry my daughter,
and I--er--it's barely possible he'll take up the business--Hum! Ahem!
I'll stick round another year and break him into the landward side of
shipping and then, Skinner, d'ye know what I'm going to do then?"

"What?" Mr. Skinner asked dully.

"I'm going to learn to play golf," said Cappy.

CHAPTER XXXII. SKINNER PROPOSES--AND CAPPY RICKS DISPOSES

Having, as he thought, evaded the spirit of Mr. Skinner's ultimatum
while conforming to its literal terms, Cappy Ricks hurried home leaving
his general manager a stunned and horrified man. In this instance,
however, Cappy had erred in his strategy. Skinner was calm,
cold-blooded, suave, politic and deferential, but in his kind of fight
he never bluffed. He never played his hand until he had sufficient
trumps to take the odd trick.

He looked ahead now, into the not very distant future, and saw Matt
Peasley, husband of the heiress to the Ricks millions, giving him
orders--and the vision did