ed the waste-basket into a
corner of the room.

"I have it, Skinner! I've solved the problem. Go back and 'tend to your
lumber business and leave the man Peasley to me. I'll tan that fellow's
hide and hang it on my fence, just as sure as George Washington crossed
the Delaware River."

Mr. Skinner, glad to be excused, promptly made his escape. When Cappy
Ricks stripped for action, Mr. Skinner knew from long experience that
there was going to be a fight or a foot race; that whenever the old
gentleman set out to confound an enemy, the inevitable result was
wailing and weeping and gnashing of teeth, in which doleful form of
exercise Cappy Ricks had never been known to participate.

"Send in a boy!" Cappy ordered as the general manager withdrew.

The boy appeared. "Sonny," said Cappy Ricks, "do you know All Hands And
Feet?" The boy nodded and Cappy continued: "Well, you go down on the
Embarcadero, like a good boy, and cruise from Folsom Street to Broadway
Wharf Number Two until you find All Hands and Feet. Look in front of
cigar stands and in the shipchandlery stores; and if you don't find
him in those places run over to the assembly rooms of Harbor Fifteen,
Masters' and Pilots' Association, and see if he's there, playing
checkers. When you find him tell him Mr. Ricks wants to see him at
once."

CHAPTER VIII. ALL HANDS AND FEET TO THE RESCUE

Captain Ole Peterson was known to the coastwise trade as All Hands And
Feet. He was a giant Swede whose feet resembled twin scow models and
whose clenched fists, properly smoked and cured, might have passed
anywhere for picnic hams. He was intelligent, competent and belligerent,
with a broad face, slightly dished and plentifully scarred, while his
wide flat nose had been stove in and shifted hard a-starboard. Cappy
Ricks liked him, respected his ability and found him amusing as one
finds an educated bear amusing. He had a reputation for being the
undefeated rough and tumble champion of Sweden and the United States.

"You ban vant to see me, sir?" he rumbled as, hat in hand, he stood
beside Cappy Ricks' desk half an hour later. Compared with the huge
Swede, Cappy looked like a watch charm.

"Sit down, captain," Cappy replied amiably. "I hear you're out of a job.
Why?"

Briefly All Hands And Feet explained what Cappy already knew; that his
last command, being old and rotten and over-loaded, had worked apart
in a seaway and fallen to pieces under him. The inspectors had he