not sit well on the general manager's
stomach. Consequently, Mr. Skinner decided for a test of strength at
once.

Accordingly, when Cappy Ricks came down to the office the following
morning, Mr. Skinner came into the old fellow's sanctum and requested an
interview.

"Fire away, my boy," said Cappy amiably, yet with a queer sinking
feeling in his vitals, for he did not like the look in Skinner's eye;
and something told him there was blood on the moon.

"With reference to this rowdy, Peasley, whom you tell me you are going
to make port captain--"

"I also told you, Skinner, my boy, that he is to be my son-in-law,"
Cappy interrupted, like a good general bringing up his heavy artillery
prior to ordering a charge. "I beg of you, Skinner, whatever your
animosities, to bear in mind the fact that my daughter could not
possibly engage herself to a rowdy."

"Out of respect to you and Miss Florence I shall not indulge in
personalities, sir," Mr. Skinner replied smilingly, and Cappy shuddered,
for Mr. Skinner never smiled in a fight unless he had the situation
well in hand. "I have merely called to tell you that I have invested
seventy-five cents of my salary in a stout hickory pick-handle, and the
next time Captain Matt Peasley enters my office I shall test the quality
of the said pick-handle over his head. I don't care if he is engaged to
your daughter; the minute you bring that man into this office I go out.
You shall have my resignation instantly. That decision, Mr. Ricks, is
final and irrevocable." And without giving Cappy an instant for argument
Mr. Skinner bowed himself out.

A month and Cappy Ricks remained minus his port captain; Mr. Skinner was
still strongly entrenched in his job as general manager. It was a hard
hand to beat, for the fact of the matter was that Cappy Ricks simply
could not afford to dispense with Mr. Skinner. The man was too honest,
too conscientious, too industrious, too brilliant, too efficient, not
to be reckoned with. To part with Skinner was like parting with a
dividend-producing gold mine; it was equivalent to unloading on Cappy's
shoulders again the burden of work and worry that would have killed him
ten years ago had he not surrendered it to Skinner, who handled it as a
juggler handles nine balls. Moreover, Skinner knew all of the business
secrets of the Ricks Lumber and Logging Company and the Blue Star
Navigation Company--why, he was an integral part of the business; and,
lastly, Capp