“The ideal man.”  Cappy smote his desk.  “I’ve been wanting to promote Mac into a larger vessel and pay him twenty-five dollars a month more for the past two years.  He’s too good for a little hooker like the Nokomis, and he’s got a steady-going Norwegian mate that’s been with him in the Nokomis for three years.  Time to take care of that mate.  Skinner, I have an idea.  See that it is carried through.  McBride’s mate shall buy out Mac’s interest in the Nokomis.  If he hasn’t the money, tell him I’ll lend it to him, secured by the insurance, provided he and McBride can come to terms.  See that they do.  Tell Mac he’s to have the Retriever, and I’ll arrange to get Cap’n Noah’s interest for him from the estate at a fair figure.  Give him expense money and his credentials and tell him to start for Cape Town tomorrow night; and cable the man Peasley to retain charge of the vessel at captain’s pay until McBride arrives to relieve him.”

Mr. Skinner retired to his office and got down his code book.  The general manager knew what he desired to say and hoped he might find something in the code book to help him say it at cut rates, but despairing after a diligent search he finally evolved and dispatched this cablegram to Matt Peasley, addressing it to the cable address of the Retriever.

San Francisco, Feb. 16th, 19—.

  Rickstar,
    Cape Town.

  Peasley, your meager maritime experience renders prohibitive
  compliance request.  Retain charge master’s pay pending arrival
  successor.

Bluestar.

Having dispatched his message to Matt Peasley, Mr. Skinner, as he thought, had dismissed Peasley from his thoughts forever.  It would appear, however, that in this particular the general manager was counting Mother Carey s chickens before they were hatched.  He little suspected, in his desire to be fair, even at considerable expense, to inform Matt Peasley just why the Blue Star Navigation Company couldn’t possibly hand over its fine barkentine to a stranger, that he had only reopened the controversy; that his unfortunate reference to “meager maritime experience” had flicked Matt Peasley on a raw spot and been provocative of this reply, received the same day: 

Cape Town, Feb. 16, 19—.

  Bluestar,
    San Francisco.

Skipper dying sea foreign port unwritten maritime law stipulates mate succeeds.  Yankee can sail anything afloat.  This my chance.  Grant it or insure successor’s life.  Will throw him overboard on arrival.

Peasley.

Mr. Skinner promptly carried this defi to Cappy Ricks.

“He’s a sea-lawyer,” Cappy piped angrily.  “The scoundrel!  The un-mi-ti-ga-ted—­scoundrel!  Cable him instantly, Skinner, that if he spends another cent of our money in unnecessary cablegrams I’ll fire him.”  He snapped his fingers.  “Attend to it, Skinner, attend to it.”

Mr. Skinner attended to it, and the following morning he found this reply on his desk when he came down to work: