r queried kindly.

"By paying the Blue Star Navigation Company eighteen thousand dollars in
good old U. S. yellow-backs." Matt laughed and drew from his hip pocket
a roll that would have choked a hippopotamus. "Skinner, this is so rich
I'll have to tell you about it, and then if you're good I'll let you be
present when I put the crusher on Cappy. His plan was without a flaw. He
had me right where he wanted me--only something slipped."

"What?" Mr. Skinner demanded breathlessly.

"Why, as soon as my account was attached, the bank called me up and told
me about it. I was just about to start for the bank to make a deposit
of all that freight money I had collected in Panama--about twenty-four
thousand dollars, more or less--the Panama Railroad gave it to me in a
lump--exchange on San Francisco, you know--"

"So you cashed that draft at the bank upon which it was drawn--"

"And I'm here with the cash to smother Cappy Ricks! I'll cover him with
confusion, the old villain! Skinner, I give you my word, if he hadn't
tried to slip one over on me I would never have stuck him with all those
bills Morrow & Company didn't pay, but now that he's gone and attached
my bank account--"

Mr. Skinner rose and took Matt Peasley by the arm.

"Matt," he said in the friendliest fashion imaginable. "You and I have
clashed since the first day I learned of your existence, but we're not
going to clash any more." He pointed to the door leading to Cappy Ricks'
office. "One of these days, Matt, whether you want to or not, you're
going to be occupying that office and giving orders to me, and when you
do I want to tell you here and now I shall accord you the same measure
of respect I now accord Mr. Ricks. I've worked twenty-five years for Mr.
Ricks. I--I'm--absurdly fond of him, for all his er--er--"

"Why, so am I, Skinner. I'd do anything to please him--"

"Then do it," Skinner pleaded. "Give him a cheap victory. He's an old
man and he'll enjoy it. He didn't sleep a wink last night, just scheming
a way to get a strangle hold on you--it's hard for the old to give way
to the young, you know--and now he's inside there, just hungering for
you to arrive so he can jeer at you and lecture you and make fun of you.
He doesn't want your money. Why, he loves you as if you were his own
boy--"

"But how can I let him get away with this deal?" Matt queried soberly.

"By rushing in on him now and simulating a terrific rage. Just imagine
you're on the bri