Cordially and sincerely yours,
Blue Star Navigation Company,
By Alden P. Ricks,
President.

Matt Peasley read this extraordinary communication twice, then folded it and calmly placed it in his pocket.

“May I inquire, sir,” he said, facing the gentleman who had accompanied All Hands And Feet aboard the Retriever, “who you are and the nature of your business?”

“I am the American consul, Mr. Peasley, and I am here at the invitation of Captain Peterson, the master of this ship, to witness the formal transfer of authority from you to him.  I was given to understand by Captain Peterson that you might offer some slight objection to this arrangement.”

“Slight objection!” Matt Peasley replied with a rising inflection, and grinned maliciously.

The consul had his Yankee sense of humor with him and chuckled as Matt lifted his big body on his toes and stretched both arms lazily.  Then Matthew Peasley turned toward All Hands And Feet.

“I have a letter from the owners of the Retriever,” he said respectfully, “which leads me to presume that you are to supersede me in command of the vessel.”  All Hands And Feet nodded.  “Which being the case,” Matt Peasley continued, “as a mere matter of formality, you will of course present your credentials as master.”

“Sure!” Ole replied pleasantly, and sidled toward Matt Peasley with outstretched arms.  Could Cappy Ricks have seen his skipper then, he would have reminded the Old Man more than ever of a bear.

Matt Peasley needed no blueprint of the big Swede’s plans.  All Hands And Feet, depending on his sheer horse power and superior weight, always fought in mass formation, as it were.  His modus operandi was to embrace his enemy in those terrible arms, squeeze the breath out of him with one bearlike hug, then lay him on the deck, straddle him, and pummel him into insensibility at his leisure.  Matt gave ground rapidly and held up a warning hand.

“One moment, my friend,” he requested.  “Before you get familiar on brief acquaintance, don’t you think you had better present your credentials?”

All Hands And Feet shook his two great fists and grinned good-naturedly.

“How dese ban suit you for credentials?” he queried.

“Fine,” Matt Peasley answered; “only, before you present them, our first duty is to the ship.  I take it that you have cleared the vessel and that after trimming me you intend to put to sea.”

“You ban guess it,” the Swede rumbled.  “Put up de dooks.  Anyhow, I ban’t have to fight little feller.  Dat ban one comfort.”