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With that amount of money in hand, plus the savings from his salary, he planned to marry Cappy's daughter and go into business for himself as a ship, freight and marine insurance broker. Mr. Skinner heard of Matt Peasley's appointment as master of the tug Sea Fox several hours before the same information reached Matt himself.

He had worked for a salary all his days, and after passing the thirty mark he had lost the courage to leap into the commercial fray and be his own man. He wished he might have been endowed at birth with a modicum of Matt Peasley's courage and reckless disregard of consequences. It was nearly ten weeks before Cappy Ricks laid eyes on Matt Peasley again.

"There is only one thing that a shipping man in this country has more respect for than an Order in Council and that is an Order in the United States District Court!" "Naturally. It's backed up by our army and navy." "By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, somebody's sporting blood is going to be tested today; and something tells, me, Augustus, my dear young friend, that it's going to be Matt Peasley's."

The storm was over, and the bare trees, when the moon shone between the hurrying clouds, cast lacelike shadows on the white velvet surface of the snow as Austen forged his way up the hill to the Widow Peasley's in keeping with his promise to Mr. Redbrook. Across the street he paused outside the picket-fence to gaze at the yellow bars of light between the slats of the windows of the Duncan house.

Do you think you could get away with a bosun's job?" "I could get away with your job if I had the chance, sir," Matt declared, almost impudently. "There she blows!" the Old Man declared. "Bless me, if you're not a Native Son! Nobody but a Native Son would be that fresh. I suppose this is your second voyage, you puling baby?" Matt Peasley's dander was up instantly.

"I was going to the Pelican." "Well, I've got a committee meetin' of Agriculture," said Mr. Redbrook. "Could you be up here at Mis' Peasley's about eight to-night?" "Why, yes," Austen replied, "if you want to see me." "I do want to see you," said Mr. Redbrook, significantly, and waved a farewell.

Mutiny and sundry other crimes on the high seas are out of the ordinary; hence the United Press correspondent at Hoquiam had considered the story of Matt Peasley's arrest worthy of dissemination over the Pacific Coast. Cappy Ricks read it, the principal item of interest in it being a purported interview with Matt Peasley, who, in choice newspaperese, had entered a vigorous denial of the charge.

Ain't you the man that shot a feller out West? Seems to me I heerd somethin' about it." "Which one did you hear about?" Austen asked. "Good Lord!" said Mr. Putter, "you didn't shoot more'n one, did you?" It was just three o'clock when Austen drove into the semicircle opposite the Widow Peasley's, rang Mr.

Skinner, always cautious and ultra-conservative promptly advised against Matt Peasley's course; but Matt would not be downed without a fight. "I know prices for ship construction are fearfully high just now," he admitted; "but mark my words! they're going to double; and if we place our contracts now, while we have an opportunity to do so, we'll be getting in on the ground floor.

Ain't you the man that shot a feller out West? Seems to me I heerd somethin' about it." "Which one did you hear about?" Austen asked. "Good Lord!" said Mr. Putter, "you didn't shoot more'n one, did you?" It was just three o'clock when Austen drove into the semicircle opposite the Widow Peasley's, rang Mr.