“Very likely he’s up to some skullduggery, sir,” Matt opined.

“I wish you had informed me of the identity of your client, Mr. Peasley,” Hudner complained.  “I don’t like to sign this charter.”

“I cannot help that now, sir,” Matt retorted.  “You have agreed in writing to charter the vessel to any responsible person I might bring to you, and I guess the Blue Star Navigation Company comes under that head.”

Mr. Hudner sighed and gritted his teeth.  Instinct told him there was deviltry afoot, but in an evil moment he had sewed himself up and he had no alternative now save to complete the contract or stand suit.  So he signed the charter party and retained the original, while Matt Peasley, with the duplicate in his pocket, hastened back to Cappy Ricks’ office.

“Matt,” said Cappy approvingly, “you’re a born business man, and it will be strange indeed if you don’t pick up a nice little piece of money on this Unicorn deal.”  He glanced at his watch and then turned to his daughter.

“Florry, my dear,” he said, “would you like to go up-town with your daddy and Captain Peasley for luncheon?”

Matt Peasley grinned like a Jack-o’-lantern, all lit up for Hallowe’en.

“Fine!” he said enthusiastically.

Florence withered him with one impersonal glance, saw that she had destroyed him utterly, relented, and graciously acquiesced.  When they left the office Matt Peasley was stepping high, like a ten-time winner, for he had suddenly made the discovery that life ashore was a wonderful, wonderful thing.  There was such a lilt in his young heart that, for the life of him, he could not forbear doing a little double shuffle as he waited at the elevator with Cappy and his daughter.  He sang: 

  “The first mate’s boat was the first away;
     But the whale gave a flip of his tail,
   And down to the bottom went five brave boys,
     Never again to sail—­
       Brave boys,
     Never again to sail!

   When the captain heard of the loss of his whale,
     Right loud-lee then he swore. 
   When he heard of the loss of his five brave boys,
     ‘Oh,’ he said, ’we can ship some more brave boys—­
   ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘we can ship some more.’”

Cappy winked slyly at his daughter, but she did not see the wink.  She had eyes for nobody but Matt Peasley, for he was a brand-new note in her life.  They were half through luncheon before Florry discovered the exact nature of this fascinating new note.  Matt Peasley was real.  There was not an artificial thought or action in his scheme of things; he bubbled with homely Yankee wit; he was intensely democratic and ramping with youth and health and strength and the joy of living; he could sing funny little songs and tell funny little stories about funny little adventures that had befallen him.  She liked him.

After luncheon Cappy declared that Matt should return to the office with him, while Florry instructed the waiter to ring for a taxicab for her.  Later, when Matt gallantly handed her into the taxi, he asked innocently: