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Updated: June 26, 2025
When the scheming pair returned to Cappy's office the latter gave Redell his check for ten thousand to reimburse Redell for margining the trade, in accordance with Cappy's verbal agreement to provide the sinews of war.
He bent his head and gazed very severely at Mr. Redell over the rims of his spectacles. For reply Mr. Redell took from his pocket thirteen sheaves of paper and handed them to Cappy, who investigated and discovered them to be thirteen forty-eight-hour options on thirteen sailing vessels bound to Australian ports with lumber, and not as yet provided with a return cargo to the United States.
Redell had enjoyed his beating, for he was, indeed, a rare sport. However, he would have to retaliate. The feud must go on.
"Why," said Redell wonderingly, "I thought you'd forgiven me that, Cappy." "So I have; but I haven't forgotten. Expect me to lose my self- respect and forget about it? No, sir! When I go into a deal and emerge in the red, I take a look at my loss-and-gain account and forget it; but when I'm ravished of my self respect-wow! Look out below and get out from under! In-fer-nal young scoundrel!
It makes the profit all the greater, and since they expect to pay a reasonable demurrage I see no reason why I should disappoint them." When Redell had hung up Cappy summoned into his presence Captain Matt Peasley. "Matt," he queried, "what schooners have you got due at any one of our northern mills within the next thirty days?" Matt Peasley pondered and counted on his big fingers.
"Now then, Cappy," Redell announced as he stuffed Cappy's check into his pocket, "the next move is to return to my office, close those charters with the owners and turn the ships over to Ford & Carter. That matter attended to, I shall, with eighteen charter parties in my pocket, drift casually over to the Merchants' Exchange.
Cappy Ricks threw out an arm and pressed his hand against Redell's mouth. "Sh-h-h!" he warned. "Sh-h-h! Hush!" With the agility of a man half his age Cappy ran to the door, bolted it on the inside and returned to his desk. He was rubbing his hands and his eyes were aglow with interest. "What are you sh-h-h-ing about?" Redell demanded. "Matt Peasley and that cowardly Skinner.
Matt, have you taken leave of your senses?" "No, sir not quite; but Gus Redell has. He bought her in for two million dollars. Of course he was acting for somebody else, because every cent he has is working overtime in the West Coast Trading Company." "Oh!" Cappy murmured. "Then you didn't get her, after all?" "No, sir! So perhaps you'd better not holler until you're hit." Matt sighed.
"Cowards!" he sneered. "Running out on me, eh? By Judas Priest, I just knew you didn't dast to stay and hear me tell the boys about that spruce. Drat you! The next time you'll know the difference between attar of roses and California spruce!" Redell put down his suit case, pulled out his watch, glanced at it and then at his partner. "Shall I tell him, Luiz?" he queried.
"Don't waste my time, gentlemen. It's valuable. Let's get this thing over and go back to our offices." "One million five hundred thousand!" called J. Augustus Redell. "I called for a sport and drew a piker," Jim Searles retorted. "Mr. J. Augustus Redell, of the West Coast Trading Company, bids a million and a half."
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