him. He drew out his watch. "Well," he continued, "I guess the United
States Marshal is in charge of the Tillicum by this time; so get busy
with the bond and have him removed from the ship. The minute one of
those birds lights on my deck I just go crazy!"

"Yes, you do!" screamed Cappy Ricks, completely losing his self-control.
"You go crazy--like a fox!"

And then Cappy Ricks did something he had never done before. He swore,
with a depth of feeling and a range of language to be equalled only by
a lumberjack. Matt Peasley waited until he subsided for lack of new
invective and then said reproachfully:

"I can't stand this any longer, Mr. Ricks. I'll have to go now. Back
home I belonged to the Congregational Church--"

"Out!" yelled Cappy. "Out, you vagabond!"

CHAPTER XLIII. CAPPY PLANS A KNOCK-OUT

The morning following Matt Peasley's triumphant return from Panama
with the steamer Tillicum, Cappy Ricks created a mild sensation in his
offices by reporting for duty at a quarter past eight. Mr. Skinner was
already at his desk, for he was a slave driver who drove himself fully
as hard as he did those under him. He glanced up apprehensively as Cappy
bustled in.

"Why, what has happened, Mr. Ricks?" he queried.

"I have an idea," said Cappy. "Skinner, my boy, a word with you in
private."

Mr. Skinner rose with alacrity, for instinct warned him that he was in
for some fast and clever work. Cappy sat in at his desk, and Skinner,
drawing up a chair, sat down beside him and waited respectfully for
Cappy to begin.

"Skinner," Cappy began impressively, "for many years you and I have
been harboring the delusion that we are business men, whereas, if we can
stand to hear the truth told about ourselves, we handle a deal with the
reckless abandon of a pair of bear cubs juggling hazel nuts."

"I have sufficient self-esteem," Skinner replied stiffly, "not to take
that pessimistic view of myself. If you refer to the inglorious rout we
suffered yesterday in our skirmish with Captain Matt Peasley, permit
me to remind you, in all respect, that you handled that entire deal
yourself."

"Bah!" said Cappy witheringly. "Why, you aided and abetted me, Skinner.
You told me my strategy was absolutely flawless."

"I am not the seventh son of a seventh son, sir. I did not see the flaw
in your strategy. You lost by one of those strange accidents which must
be attributed to the interference of the Almighty in the affairs of
men."