Cappy Ricks Part 24

"I'll bet they can," Cappy shrilled. "I've just called up the Board of Underwriters and they say the cargo hasn't been lost. They say nothing is lost if you know where it is, and the ties are on the beach in Samoa awaiting our pleasure. Skinner, call up our attorneys at once and tell them to enter suit."

"I was just about to call them up on another matter," Mr. Skinner replied. "As secretary of the Blue Star Navigation Company I have just been served with a summons in another suit, entered against the Quickstep."

"What in the fiend's name is the matter with that infernal Quickstep?

This is the third suit we've had in two years. Skinner, what is wrong with that steam schooner?"

"She must be hoodooed, Mr. Ricks."

"Another seaman injured by being hit with a cargo block or having a piece of eight-by-eight drop on his foot, I suppose."

"Not this time, Mr. Ricks. One Halvor Jacobsen has sued the Quickstep and owners for five thousand dollars for injuries alleged to have been inflicted upon him by the captain."

"So that Captain Kjellin has been fighting again, eh? Skinner, that man is too handy with his fists, I tell you. He's another one of your favorites, by the way. I only put that fellow in the Quickstep to please you."

"We haven't a better man in our employ," Mr. Skinner a.s.serted stoutly.

"He carries larger cargoes and makes faster time than any steam-schooner captain in our vessels of similar carrying capacity. He's a dividend producer, Mr. Ricks, and he is very efficient."

"Don't talk to me of efficiency," Cappy snarled. "What's the sense rus.h.i.+ng the vessel round Robin Hood's barn to make dividends, if we lose them in lawsuits?"

"His vessel didn't lay up during the strike of the Waterfront Federation in 1903," Skinner challenged. "You bet she didn't! Kjellin rustled up a scab crew and kept the mob off the vessel at the point of a gun. I understand he's a bit short-tempered, but while there are s.h.i.+ps with red-blooded men in them, Mr. Ricks, we must expect the men to pull off a couple of rounds with skin gloves every so often."

Cappy looked over the rims of his spectacles at Mr. Skinner. "Skinner,"

he said impressively, "listen to me: This is the last suit that's going to be entered against the Quickstep. Was that man Halvor Jacobsen who is suing us second mate on the Quickstep?"

"Yes, sir."

"I knew it," Cappy shrilled triumphantly. "Skinner, with all your efficiency ideas, you fail to see anything remarkable in that fact. Now don't tell me you do, because I know you do not. This is the third suit since Kjellin took charge, and that's proof enough for me that there's something wrong with that big Finn. Those other two suits were for injuries received by men loading cargo in the after hold. The after hold is presided over by the second mate." Cappy waved his hands. "Huh!" he said. "Simple!"

"I believe I comprehend," Mr. Skinner admitted. "But what are you going to do about it? We can scarcely discharge Kjellin without a hearing and without proof that he is to blame."

"What am I going to do about it?" Cappy echoed. "Why, I'm going to send a judge and a jury aboard the Quickstep, try this Finn, Kjellin, and if he's guilty of dereliction of duty I'll bet you a plug hat to one small five-cent bag of smoking tobacco I'll know all about it inside of a week."

"Do you mean to put a secret-service operative aboard disguised as a deckhand?"

"Huh! Skinner, you distress me. I'm going to put Matt Peasley aboard the Quickstep as second mate, and let Nature take its course."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sir," Mr. Skinner advised. "That rowdy Peasley and a man like Kjellin will not get along together for one voyage; then Kjellin will fire him, and first thing you know you'll be groping around in the dark again."

"Oh, I know this Finn is a pet of yours," Cappy retorted acidly, "but Matt Peasley is a pet of mine. If we put them together in the same s.h.i.+p maybe we'll have one of those skin-glove contests you referred to a minute ago, but between their mutual recriminations you can bet your hopes of Heaven I'll catch a glimpse of the truth and act accordingly.

Matt will not tell a lie, Skinner. Remember that."

"Neither will Kjellin," Skinner declared with equal warmth.

"Well, I don't know whether he will or not. However, that's beside the question. Where is the Florence Ricks?"

"Sailed from San Pedro at noon yesterday."

"Where is the Quickstep?"

"Sailed from Eureka to load s.h.i.+ngles last night."

"Good. Wireless the master of the Florence to provide himself with a new second mate. That will give him time to wireless ahead and have one waiting for him when the vessel touches in to discharge pa.s.sengers from the south. Tell him to inform Peasley he isn't fired, but just transferred. Attend to it, Skinner."

While Mr. Skinner departed to carry out Cappy's order, the old gentleman called up Harbor 15, Masters' and Pilots' a.s.sociation, and asked for the secretary.

"Ricks of the Blue Star speaking," he announced crisply. "Been furnis.h.i.+ng many second mates to the Quickstep lately?"

"Why, yes, Mr. Ricks. Kjellin wires for a new second mate quite frequently. They don't seem to stay with him more than a voyage or two.

He's quite a driver, you know, Mr. Ricks."

"I know," Cappy replied grimly. "The next time he wires in to have a second mate join the s.h.i.+p when he touches in here, you might be good enough to call me up. I have a skook.u.m young second mate in the Florence Ricks that I'm training for a captain, and I want to switch him in on the Humboldt Bay run for the sake of the experience. And, of course, you know how it is with masters--they like to think they're selecting their own mates, and always resent any interference from their owners. And if you do ask them to take a certain mate they're apt to suspect he's a spy from the office, and--well, you understand. I'd prefer to have this lad I have in mind go aboard as if you had sent him."

"I understand, Mr. Ricks. I'll let you know the first time Kjellin wires in."

CHAPTER XXVIII. CAPPY HAS A HEART

"Well, Matt," said Cappy Ricks, cheerfully, as he shook hands with the late second mate of the Florence Ricks. "We don't see much of each other now that you're a mate. But don't worry, you'll be a master again, and then you'll be dropping in here a couple of times a month pestering me for a lot of things for your s.h.i.+p that you could probably get along without. You're looking fit, my boy."

"I'm feeling fit, sir," Matt replied, grinning.

"I'm glad to hear it," was Cappy's grim reply. "Hum! Harump-h-h-h!

Let me see now. You've had your course in the Mendocino dog-holes, and that's over. I hope you learned something. You've run for seven months from all the Was.h.i.+ngton and Oregon ports to Southern California, and--er--that's very nice. But you haven't been over Humboldt Bar yet, have you?"

"No, sir."

"Then you have something coming. Quite a bar in the winter time, Matt, quite a bar! Good many tickets been lost on that bar, Matt, so you ought to have more than a nodding acquaintance with it. You're going second mate in the Quickstep. She's carrying redwood s.h.i.+ngles from Eureka to the s.h.i.+ngle a.s.sociation's air-drying yards up river at Los Medanos at present, and she'll get to Los Medanos Sunday afternoon, so you'd better get there about the same time, in order to turn to discharging bright and early Monday morning. And you'll have to step lively, Matt. The Quickstep lives up to her name, and the way they put s.h.i.+ngles into that vessel is a scandal."

"s.h.i.+ngles are nice stuff to handle," Matt ventured.

"Not redwood s.h.i.+ngles, Matt. All right after they're dry, but when they come fresh from the saws they bleed a little, so be sure and wear gloves when you handle them. If you have a cut on your hand that redwood sap may poison you. I think you'll like the Quickstep, Matt."

"It doesn't matter whether I do or not," Matt replied humorously. "You always do things for me without consulting me anyhow."

"Why, you don't mind, do you, my boy? It's all for your own good."

"I can bear it, sir, because one of these bright days I'm going to do something without consulting you."

Cappy favored him with a sharp glance. "As the street boys say," he flashed back, "'I get you, Steve!'"

"And having gotten me, Mr. Ricks, do you still want me in your employ?"

"Oh, certainly, certainly. Any time I want to get rid of you I'll fire you or have Skinner do it for me."

Matt looked at his watch and rose. "I have four days' sh.o.r.e leave before me, sir," he said, "so I guess I'll be trotting along and make the most of it. I'll be at Los Medanos Sunday night."