III. CAPPY HAS A HEART

"Well, Matt," said Cappy Ricks, cheerfully, as he shook hands with the
late second mate of the Florence Ricks. "We don't see much of each other
now that you're a mate. But don't worry, you'll be a master again, and
then you'll be dropping in here a couple of times a month pestering
me for a lot of things for your ship that you could probably get along
without. You're looking fit, my boy."

"I'm feeling fit, sir," Matt replied, grinning.

"I'm glad to hear it," was Cappy's grim reply. "Hum! Harump-h-h-h!
Let me see now. You've had your course in the Mendocino dog-holes, and
that's over. I hope you learned something. You've run for seven months
from all the Washington and Oregon ports to Southern California,
and--er--that's very nice. But you haven't been over Humboldt Bar yet,
have you?"

"No, sir."

"Then you have something coming. Quite a bar in the winter time, Matt,
quite a bar! Good many tickets been lost on that bar, Matt, so you ought
to have more than a nodding acquaintance with it. You're going second
mate in the Quickstep. She's carrying redwood shingles from Eureka to
the Shingle Association's air-drying yards up river at Los Medanos at
present, and she'll get to Los Medanos Sunday afternoon, so you'd better
get there about the same time, in order to turn to discharging bright
and early Monday morning. And you'll have to step lively, Matt. The
Quickstep lives up to her name, and the way they put shingles into that
vessel is a scandal."

"Shingles are nice stuff to handle," Matt ventured.

"Not redwood shingles, Matt. All right after they're dry, but when they
come fresh from the saws they bleed a little, so be sure and wear gloves
when you handle them. If you have a cut on your hand that redwood sap
may poison you. I think you'll like the Quickstep, Matt."

"It doesn't matter whether I do or not," Matt replied humorously. "You
always do things for me without consulting me anyhow."

"Why, you don't mind, do you, my boy? It's all for your own good."

"I can bear it, sir, because one of these bright days I'm going to do
something without consulting you."

Cappy favored him with a sharp glance. "As the street boys say," he
flashed back, "'I get you, Steve!'"

"And having gotten me, Mr. Ricks, do you still want me in your employ?"

"Oh, certainly, certainly. Any time I want to get rid of you I'll fire
you or have Skinner do it for me."

Matt looked at his watch and rose. "