"
Cappy Ricks' eyes blazed, but he controlled his temper and made one
final appeal.
"Matt," he said plaintively, "you infernal young cut-up, quit kidding
the old man! Don't tell me that a Peasley, of Thomaston, Maine, would
take advantage of certain adventitious circumstances and the legal
loopholes provided by our outrageous maritime laws--"
"To swindle the Blue Star Navigation Company!" Mr. Skinner cut in.
"Swindle is an ugly word, Mr. Skinner. Please do not use it again to
describe my legitimate business--and don't ask any sympathy of me.
You two are old enough and experienced enough in the shipping game to
spin your own tops. You didn't give me any the best of it; you
crowded my hand and joggled my elbow, and it would have been the
signal for a half holiday in the office if I had gone broke."
"But after all Mr. Ricks has done for you--"
"He always had value received, and I asked no favors of him--and
received none."
"But surely, my dear Matt," Skinner purred, for the first time calling
his ancient enemy by his Christian name--"surely you're jesting with
us."
"Skinner, old horse, I was never more serious in my life. Mr. Alden
P. Ricks is my ideal of a perfect business man; and just before I left
for Panama he informed me--rather coldly, I thought--that he never
mixed sentiment with business.
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