“But, Matt, you old dunderhead, you mustn’t sell a good thing.  Why, man, you’ve got a million and a half profit right in the hollow of your hand; and, oh, we mustn’t let it get away, Matt—­we mustn’t let it get away!

“It was magnificent, Matt—­perfectly magnificent.  I’ll help you, sonny.  By golly, I’ll go to the bat for you and back you for the last dollar I have.  No more monkeyshines between us now, boy!  We’ve had a lot of fun in our day, playing nip and tuck with each other; but this is real business.  You’ve got to be saved.”

“I had an idea that you would see it in that light, sir,” Matt suggested smilingly.  I knew you’d back me up; so I didn’t worry.  But you’ll have to take half the profit on the deals I’ve made—­that’s only fair.”

“Profits!” Cappy Ricks sneered.  “Why, what the devil do I care for profits?  You keep the profits.  You and Florry are young and you’ll know how to enjoy them.  Why, what do you think I am?  A human hog?  Let me sit in the game with you—­let me play the game of business with you, son, down to my last buffalo nickel.  I can’t take the blamed money with me when I die, can I?  But don’t ask me to make any money out of you, my boy.  I’m going to get my fun watching you in action.”

Matt Peasley came close and took old Cappy Ricks’ hand in both of his.

“I want to be your partner,” he said wistfully.  “I couldn’t come into this office and sponge off you, and so I’ve waited until I could buy in!  I wanted to bring some assets besides myself when I should come to manage the Blue Star.  May I, sir?  I want to turn in this big deal I’ve put over for stock in the Ricks Lumber and Logging Company and the Blue Star Navigation Company; and, then, with Skinner managing the lumber end, I’ll sit in and run the fleet—­and you just sit round and help and offer advice, Mr. Ricks.  Let me turn in the Narcissus for what I have been offered—­four hundred and fifty thousand dollars—­and take stock.

“I don’t want to be an employee; I don’t want to be just your son-in-law, waiting for your shoes.  I want to be your partner—­to be more than a cog in the machine.  And those freighters I’ve chartered—­why, I could never have chartered them without your help.  Who was I?  Would I have had any credit or standing with those big Eastern shipping firms?  Not much!  I represented myself as the general manager of the Blue Star Navigation Company.  And they knew about you—­you were rated A-1 in financial circles.”

“You what?” yelled Cappy.  “General manager!  You infernal duffer, why didn’t you cut the whole hog and call yourself president?”

“I had my cards printed to read:  Vice President and General Manager,” Matt replied with a twinkle.  “I didn’t feel any qualms of conscience about cutting that much of the hog, because I knew you would make me vice president and general manager as soon as I got back with the bacon!  So I signed all the charters, ’Blue Star Navigation Company, by Matthew Peasley, V. P. and G.M.’—­drew a raft of sight drafts on you also.  They’ll be putting in an appearance in a day or two.  I got home just about two jumps ahead of them.”