t the bargain."

"Who wants them?" Cappy demanded craftily.

"If I told you that you'd do me the way you did that Seattle broker who
tried to put through the charter of the Lion and the Unicorn. When you
knew who his clients were you were in position to defy him--and you
did!"

"No offense," Cappy retorted innocently. "Don't be so touchy! Is this a
cash proposition, Matt?"

"In the hand."

"I accept."

"Then give me a written option," Matt warned him. "No more word-of-mouth
business for me with you."

Cappy laughed; and, calling in a stenographer, he dictated the option.

"Now, then, Matt," he said as he signed the option five minutes later
and handed it to Matt, "who shall we make out the bills of sale to?"

"To the Pacific Shipping Company. When you're ready telephone me and
I'll bring the check round."

"Go get your check now," Cappy ordered. "Skinner will have the bills of
sale ready by the time you return. And I do wish to heaven," he added,
"that you had called round with this proposition four days ago. I've
just had those three schooners dry-docked, cleaned and painted."

"Which is the very reason why I didn't call round until to-day, Mr.
Ricks. You can afford that dry-dock bill so much better than--er--the
Pacific Shipping Company."

He left, laughing, and proceeded to the office of the Pacific Shipping
Company, where he procured a check for eighty-two hundred and fifty
dollars and returned to the Blue Star Navigation Company's office. Mr.
Skinner had in the meantime prepared proper bills of sale; a notary,
with offices in the building, had been called in to attest the
signatures of Cappy Ricks and Mr. Hankins, president and secretary
respectively of the Blue Star Navigation Company; and when Cappy Ricks
handed over the bills of sale to Matt Peasley, together with the Blue
Star check for four hundred and twelve dollars and fifty cents--Matt's
commission--the latter handed him the certified check of the Pacific
Shipping Company.

"Who is the Pacific Shipping Company, Matt?" Cappy queried. "I never
heard of them before."

"It's a new company, sir," Matt replied; and, gathering up his bills of
sale and the check for his commission, he fled precipitately, leaving
Cappy Ricks to adjust his spectacles and examine the check. It was
signed: "Pacific Shipping Company, by Matthew Peasley, President."

For a long time Cappy Ricks sat staring at that check. Finally he looked
up and saw Mr. Skinner gazing