hteen thousand
dollars; he won't have it where he can lay his hands on it, and he'll be
up Salt Creek without a paddle."

"I am not in favor of it," Mr. Skinner reiterated firmly.

"Neither am I, Skinner, but I've got to do something. Can't let that
young pup cover me with blood. No, sir, not at my age, Skinner. I can't
afford to be laughed off California Street. And by the way, since when
did you become a champion of Matt Peasley?"

Mr. Skinner did not answer.

"Since when?" Cappy repeated.

"Since he administered such a thorough thrashing to the Blue Star
Navigation Company," Mr. Skinner answered, "and did it without
prejudice. He swatted us, and we deserved it, but he didn't get angry.
Every time he banged us, he'd look at me as much as to say: 'I hate to
swat you two, but it's got to be done.' Bang! 'This hurts me more than
it does you.' Biff! And then he went out smiling. I used to think he was
an--an--interloper, I thought he had designs on the Blue Star Navigation
Company and the Ricks Lumber and Logging Company, but he hasn't. He
doesn't give a hoot for anything or anybody except for what he can be
to them; not for what they can be to him. He's brainy and spunky and,
by thunder, I'm for him, and if you're going to hand him a clout when he
isn't looking you'll have to do it yourself."

"Skinner," said Cappy Ricks impressively. "Look me square in the eye. Do
you refuse orders?"

"I do, sir," Skinner replied, and looked Cappy in the eye so fiercely
that the old schemer quailed. "This is an unworthy business, Mr. Ricks.
You're trying to teach Matt Peasley some business tricks, and he's
taught you a few, so be a sport, sir, and pay for your education."

"All right," Cappy replied meekly. "When my own general manager goes
back on me, I suppose there's nothing to do but quit. The program
appears to be impracticable, so we'll say no more about it."

"I am glad to hear you say that, Mr. Ricks," Skinner answered feelingly,
and forthwith repaired to his own office.

Cappy Ricks gazed after him almost affectionately, and as the door
closed behind the general manager, Cappy murmured sotto voce:

"Skinner, I've been twenty-five years wondering why the devil I liked
you, and now I know. Why, you cold-blooded, efficient, human automaton,
you've actually got a heart! Bow! wow! Faithful Fido Skinner was just
a-tugging at the chain and dragging the dog house after him in his
efforts to eat me up! I hope I go bankrupt