In the event of just such a contingency as the present
you wanted the privilege of jumping in and taking command yourself."
Matt nodded.
"Captain Grant is a good man, but old. He can't drive a crew like I
can, Mr. Ricks--and, with me on the job, that steamer will be
discharged and back in San Francisco Bay from three to five days
sooner that she would ordinarily. It means six hundred dollars a day
to me, sir, and every day saved is worth that much cash in hand to
you, since you profess to think so lightly of my promissory note."
"Enough!" Cappy commanded. "I'll admit that the thought does you
credit. It was a mighty bright idea, Matt, and showed fine
forethought. Now, then, what are you going to do to save your roll?"
"The City of Para leaves for Panama to-morrow. Give me a letter to
Captain Grant, commanding him to turn his ship over to me on
presentation of this letter. I will furnish him the funds to pay his
transportation back to San Francisco."
"Fair enough," said Cappy; and, calling in a stenographer, he dictated
the desired letter.
Ten minutes later Matt Peasley had left the office without the
formality of saying good-by to Cappy Ricks, and was in a taxicab en
route to his lodgings to pack his steamer trunk and hand baggage.
Cappy Ricks chuckled as Matt went angrily out.
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