oing to do it on your money and be dependent upon you for
a job. I'll be my own man, Mr. Ricks. I never ask odds of any man, and I
don't like to work for a relative."
"Damn your Yankee independence," snapped Cappy angrily. "Why do you
oppose me?"
"Because I'll not have anybody saying: 'There goes Matt Peasley. He fell
into a good thing. Yes, indeed! Used to be a common A. B. until Alden P.
Ricks' daughter fell in love with him--and of course after that he went
right up the line in the Blue Star Navigation Company. He's a lucky
stiff.'"
"What do you care what people say? I know what I want."
"I do care what they say, and I care what I feel. I want to fight my own
way. I want to make a wad of money and build up a business of my own--"
"You're crazy! Why, here's one ready-made, and it will stand all kinds
of building up--"
"Then let Skinner build it. I'll build my own. I do not want anybody to
think I married your daughter for your money."
"Matt, you poor, chuckleheaded boy, listen to me. I intend doing for
you--"
"And that," roared Matt Peasley, smiting the desk, "is the very reason
why I shall not permit you to do anything for me. That's final, Mr.
Ricks. I hope you will realize it's useless to argue with me."
"I ought to by this time," Cappy replied bitterly. "Very well, I've told
you my business with you. Suppose you state your business with me."
"I'd like to draw twenty thousand dollars from my credit on the Blue
Star books."
"Huh! So you want to dig into that money the recharter of the Unicorn is
bringing you, eh, Matt?"
"If you can spare it, Mr. Ricks."
"Of course I can spare it--only I'll not. If you want that money, Matt,
sue for it; and since you haven't any documents to prove you have it
coming to you, I suppose you will agree with me that a suit would be
useless expenditure of time, money and energy."
"Then you will not give me the money, sir?" Matt Peasley demanded.
"Not a red," said Cappy calmly. "We've fought this whole matter out
before, so why argue?"
"Why, indeed," Matt answered, and reached for his hat. He was fighting
mad and desired to go away before he quarreled with Cappy.
"I'll go downstairs to the cigar stand and shake you the dice, one flop,
to see whether you go into business for yourself or come to work for
me," Cappy pleaded.
Matt came to him and placed his great hands on the old man's shoulders.
"You're the finest man I ever knew, Mr. Ricks," he said,
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