the effect that Cappy
Ricks will swallow a bluff?"

"No, I never have," Mr. Murphy replied. "Why do you ask? You been trying
to bluff him, Matt?"

"No, I really meant it when I said it, and if I'm crowded I'll make
good, but somehow I wish I hadn't said it. It wasn't dignified."

"What did you say, Matt?"

"I cabled the owners that if they sent a skipper down here to relieve
me they had better insure his life, because I'd throw him overboard upon
arrival."

"Why, that's war talk," Mr. Murphy declared, highly scandalized.
"I don't think Cappy Ricks will stand for that. I know blame well I
wouldn't."

"What would you do, Mike, if you stood in Cappy's shoes and I sent you
that cablegram?"

"Well," Mr. Murphy mused, "of course I'd be a little old man weighing
about a hundred and thirty pounds ring-side, and I wouldn't be able to
thrash you myself, but if it took my last dollar I'd send somebody down
here to do the job for me.

"Well, I guess that's just about what Cappy has done," Matt admitted,
and handed his mate Cappy's cablegram.

"Hah-hah!" Mr. Murphy commented. "That threat got past the general
manager, right up to headquarters. Why, the old man signed this
cablegram and they do say that when Cappy takes personal charge the
fur begins to fly. Matt, if I was a drinking man I'd offer to bet you a
scuttle of grog it's a case of die dog, or eat the meat-axe. Your bluff
has been called, my son."

"Then," Matt averred impudently, "the only thing for me to do is to call
Cappy's."

"How?"

"Why, give his messenger a good trouncing, of course. You don't suppose
I'm going to stand by and take a thrashing or let the other fellow heave
me overboard, do you? I should say not!"

Mr. Murphy puffed at his pipe, in silence for several minutes, the while
he pondered the situation. Presently he arrived at a solution.

"He wouldn't send a prize-fighter down here, just to lick you," he
announced. "The old man is the wildest spendthrift on earth when you
get him started, but as a general rule his middle name is Tight Wad. He
would select a combination of scrapper and skipper, and there are any
number of such combinations on the beach of 'Frisco town. I could name
you a dozen off-hand, and any one of the dozen would make you mind your
P's and Q's, big as you are. Still, they all fight alike--rough and
tumble, catch-as-catch-can. They come wading in, swinging both arms
and you could sail the Retriever through the openings