iever, so if
she's to be cleared Captain Murphy will have to do the job."

"He's my mate, and if you'll wait about half an hour I'll go get the old
Siwash," Matt replied happily, and started back to the Retriever in a
hurry. He had been gone less than twenty minutes, a fact noted by the
astute Murphy, who met his superior at the rail as the latter climbed up
the Jacob's ladder.

"Why, you haven't cleared the old girl so soon, have you, sir?" he
queried.

"Read that," Matt announced dramatically.

Mr. Murphy read the telegram. "Bust my bob-stay!" he murmured. "The
dirty old assassin! The slimy old pile-worm! The blessed old duffer!
After treating us like dogs for a year and a half he gives me the ship,
sets you down for a two year apprenticeship in steam and says he's
going to build you a four-million-foot freighter! The scoundrelly old
renegade! Why, say, Matt, Cappy's been spilling the acid all over us and
we never knew it. Somehow, I have a notion that if we had yelled murder
when he was beating us he'd have had us both out of his employ while
you'd be saying Jack Robinson."

"I believe you, Mike. But he needn't think he's going to grab two years
of my precious young life before he'll trust me with a steamer. I have
an unlimited license for sail, and if I can pass the examination for
steam before the inspectors--and I can--I'll get my license immediately.
Just consider the old boy's inconsistency, Mike. If a man can handle a
square-rigged ship he ought to be trusted with anything; yet, when
he gives me a steamer you'd think he was giving me a man's job! Fair
weather or foul, you stand on the bridge and control your vessel with
the engine room telegraph. Shucks! I wonder if that crotchety old joker
thinks it will take me two years to learn how to dock a steam schooner?"

Mr. Murphy hitched his trousers, stuck his thumbs in his belt and glared
at Matt Peasley. "See here, you," he declared, "you're a child wonder,
all right, but the trouble with you is, you hate yourself too much.
Listen to me, kid. I'm the skipper of the Retriever now and you're my
friend, young Matt Peasley, so I can talk to you as a friend. You're a
pretty skookum youth and I'd hate like everything to mix it with you,
but if you start to veto the old man's orders you may look for a fine
thrashing from me when I get back from Australia! I won't have you
making a damned fool of yourself, Matt. If you are in command of a
four-million-foot freighte