Cappy sat down very suddenly.

“Ah, yes,” he said.  “Speaking of money reminds me:  What do you intend doing with that twenty thousand dollars?”

“Well, I thought at first I’d go into the shipping business for myself—­”

“Skiffs or gasoline launches—­which?” Cappy twitted him.

“But you seem bent on having your way, and Florry is making such a fuss, I suppose I’ll have to give in to you after all.”

Matt stepped to the door, opened it and called:  “Mr. Skinner!”

Mr. Skinner looked up from his desk by the window.  “Well, sir!” he demanded haughtily.

“Murphy is not to be fired,” Matt answered.

“Indeed!  And by whose orders?”

“Mine!  I’m the port captain of the Blue Star Navigation Company, and, beginning now, I’m going to do all the hiring and firing of captains.”

Mr. Skinner turned pale.  He started from his chair and made two steps toward Cappy Ricks’ office, firmly resolved to present his resignation then and there.  At the door, however, he thought better of it, hesitated, returned to his desk and sat down again, for he had suddenly remembered, and, remembering, discovered that Cappy Ricks had laid upon him a burden that must be reckoned with—­the burden of his own future.  He flushed and bit his lips; then, feeling Matt Peasley’s eyes boring into the small of his back, he turned and said: 

“I have every reason to believe, Captain Peasley, that you are the right man in the right place.”

Matt advanced upon him and held out his hand.

“Mr. Ricks has always bragged that you could think quicker and act quicker in an emergency than any man he ever knew.  He’s right, you can.  Suppose we bury that pick-handle, Mr. Skinner?”

Mr. Skinner’s lips twitched in a wry smile, but he took Matt Peasley’s hand and wrung it heartily, not because he loved Matt Peasley or ever would, but because he had a true appreciation of Abraham Lincoln’s philosophy to the effect that a house divided against itself must surely fall.  “I’m sure we’ll get along famously together,” he said.

“You know it,” Matt answered heartily, and stepped back into Cappy’s office.

“Well,” said Cappy, “that was mighty well done, Matt.  Thank you.  So you think you’ll quit the Sea Fox and be my port captain, eh?”

“I think so, sir.”

“Well, I do not, Matt.  The fact of the matter is, your business education is now about to commence, and about two minutes ago I suddenly decided that you might as well pay for it with your own money.  I have no doubt such a course will meet with the approval of your independent spirit anyhow.  You’re a little too uppish yet, Matt.  You must be chastened, and the only way to chasten a man and make him humble is to turn him loose to fight with the pack for a while.  Consequently I’m going to turn you loose, Matt; there are some wolves along California Street that will take your twenty thousand away from you so fast that you won’t know it’s going till it’s gone.  But the loss will do you a heap of good—­and I guess Florry can wait a while.”