Skinner a piece of disquieting information--to wit, that
Captain Matt Peasley was without and desired to hold speech with Mr.
Ricks.
"Tell him Mr. Ricks is too busy to see him," Skinner ordered. Not
having heard anything of Matt for six months he concluded that the
latter's affair with the boss' daughter had languished and died a
natural death; hence he felt that he could defy Matt with impunity.
Judge of his surprise, therefore, when a heavy hand was laid on his
shoulder later and Matt Peasley stood glaring down at him.
"Well, sir!" said Skinner coolly.
"I heard you had a pick-handle waiting here for me," Matt replied
evenly, "so I just dropped in to tell you that if you ever pull a
pick-handle on me I'll take it away from you and ram it down your
throat. That's all I have to say to you, Mr. Skinner. If, the next
time I call, at Mr. Ricks' invitation, to see him, you intercept my
message and try to block my game--"
The great Peasley hand closed over Mr. Skinner's neck and felt of it
tentatively.
"Ouch!" gasped Mr. Skinner.
"Admit the brother," Matt called to an imaginary sentry behind Cappy's
door. "He has given the password. The lodge has been duly opened and
we are now ready for business."
He smiled at Mr. Skinner and passed on into Cappy Ricks' office.
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