“She drifted in there in a calm last night, sir,” Mr. Skinner replied.  “Fortunately the Point Reyes lookout had reported her early yesterday evening, and one of the Red Stack tugs—­the Sea Fox—­took a chance and went out seeking.  Lucky thing for us—­”

“The tug hauled her off then?”

“Got a line aboard just in time.  I had a telephone message from Captain Murphy at Meiggs Wharf ten minutes ago.  The Retriever is anchored in the fairway.”

“What tug did you say it was?” Cappy queried.

“The Sea Fox.”

“That’s Matt Peasley’s command,” Cappy mused.  “Lucky?  I should say we are!  It’s up to the master of the tug very frequently whether, under such conditions, his task has been a mere towage job at the going rates or a salvage proposition to be settled in court.  I dare say Matt will give us the benefit of the doubt and call it towage.”

“Don’t deceive yourself!” Skinner snapped.  “It’s salvage; Murphy said so.  After he got close in Peasley refused to name a price and came aboard and made Murphy sign a paper acknowledging that his ship was in distress and dire peril, before he would even put a line aboard him—­”

“Wow!  Wow!  The tugboat company will libel the ship now, and sue us for fifty thousand dollars’ salvage on vessel and cargo,” and Cappy groaned, for he owned both.  “By George!” he continued.  “I didn’t think Matt would do anything like that to me.  No, sir!  If anybody had told me that boy could be such an ingrate I’d have told him—­”

A youth entered Cappy’s office uninvited.

“Captain Peasley to see you, sir,” he said.

“Show the infernal fellow in,” rasped Cappy, and Matt Peasley stalked into the room.

“I should like to see you privately, Mr. Ricks,” he announced, and cast a significant glance at Skinner, who took the hint and left the room at once.

Matt sat down.  “Well,” he said, “I guess the tug Sea Fox and owners, together with her doughty skipper and crew, will finger some of your hard-earned dollars before long, Mr. Ricks.  I pulled your barkentine Retriever out of the breakers this morning.  In fifteen minutes she would have been on the beach and a total loss—­and I have a document, signed by Captain Murphy and his mates, to prove it.  I offered the pig-headed fellow a tow at ten o’clock the night before, but he declined it—­trying to save a few dollars, of course—­so when I had him where he had to have my services—­”

“Well!” Cappy snapped, “send your owners round and we’ll try to settle out of court.  If they’re hogs we’ll fight ’em, that’s all.”

“And if you do you’ll get licked.  We’ll get a quarter of the value of that vessel and her cargo.  She’s easily worth fifty thousand dollars and her cargo is worth thirty thousand more—­that’s eighty thousand, and a quarter of eighty thousand dollars is twenty thousand.”

“You’ll have to fight for it, I tell you,” Cappy reiterated.