freighter went into neutral
ports to intern until the war should terminate. The German raiders are
still out after the British and French commerce, and the deep-water
shipping out of Eastern ports isn't a business any more. It's a
delirium--a night-mare! Why, I was offered any number of charters for my
Narcissus, but I didn't bother trying to charter her until just before I
started for home; and, moreover, the longer I waited the better charter
I could make. Besides, she isn't in commission yet--and I had other fish
to fry."

"For instance?" Cappy inquired wonderingly.

"It is an undisputed fact that the early bird gets the worm," Matt
Peasley replied brightly, "and I was the early bird. I was in New York
a few days before the war became general, and for a week thereafter
everybody was so blamed interested in the fighting they neglected
business. But I didn't. I went to New York to charter, under the
government form, as many big steel freighters as I could lay hands on--"

Cappy Ricks raised his clasped hands and gazed reverently upward.

"Oh, Lord!" he murmured. "How many? How many?"

"Fifteen," Matt Peasley murmured complacently. "I got about half of them
real cheap, because business was rotten when I landed in the East. Why,
I chartered the entire fleet of one shipping firm in Boston. I had to
pay a stiffer rate for the others; but--"

"How long did you charter them for?" Cappy yelled. "Quick! Tell me!"

"All for a year, with the privilege of renewal at a ten per cent.
advance. I had no difficulty in rechartering to the men who had been
asleep on the job. I shall average a profit of two hundred dollars a day
on each of the fifteen even if I do not charter them longer--"

"A day!" Cappy's voice rose to a shrill scream.

"A day! Any American bottom that will float and move through the water
is worth five times what it was before war was declared, and the freight
rates are going up every day. Three thousand dollars a day income--three
hundred and sixty-five days in the year! Man, if the war lasts a year
I'll make a million dollars net!"

"But--but--about this Narcissus?" Cappy sputtered.

"Just before I left for home I chartered her at fourteen hundred dollars
a day--forty-two thousand dollars a month--on the Government form of
charter."

"Impossible!" Cappy shrieked, losing all control of himself. "Dog-gone
you, Matt Peasley, don't tell me such stories. You're driving me crazy!"

"It will cost me nine th