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Updated: September 8, 2025
An owner likes to have a report on his property once in a while, doesn't he? Unless we happen to charter the Retriever for a cargo to her home port, you know very well, Skinner, we may not see her for years. Besides, I've never seen the man Peasley, and if he'd only write now and then I could get a line on him from his letters. I can always tell a fool by the letter he writes, Skinner."
"While the Tillicum is on this wild-goose chase, Skinner," Cappy said wearily, "she is chartered by the Blue Star Navigation Company to Alden P. Ricks personally, at the prevailing rates. The stockholders mustn't pay for my fancies, Skinner. You'll see to that, won't you?" Excerpt from the log of Captain Matt Peasley relief skipper of the American barkentine Retriever; Manila to San Francisco.
The retriever said nothing, but licked his lips after his meal and waddled off without so much as saying "Thank you" to the disgusted dog-boy. So that last meeting was over, and I felt as wretched as Garm, who moaned in his sleep all night. When we went to the office he found a place under the table close to Vixen, and dropped flat till it was time to go home.
"How much will it cost, Matt? None of your highway robbery now. Be easy on the Retriever for old times' sake." "A thousand dollars," Matt Peasley answered pleasantly, and was rewarded with a volley of oaths from Mike Murphy and his crew. "You're a thief!" yelled Murphy. "And you're a fool, Mike.
These the retriever was always in the habit of carrying home, though Bob would not let him have them at once, right out, to take in his mouth as he left the beach. He would first show them to Rover, with a "Look here, good dog!"
"Is that the Cherub or the Andax abeam of us?" asked the captain. "It's neither. It's the Guide, or the Boy Jim, or the Retriever not quite sure which." "Now, Captain Bream, shall we put you on board the mission-ship at once, or will you wait to see us boarded for empty trunks?" "I'll wait," returned Captain Bream. Soon the steamer hove-to, not far from the admiral's vessel.
"I thought so, too," Cappy answered dryly; "but the scoundrel put up a low-down job on me and pried the twenty thousand loose," and Cappy proceeded to relate to Florry the sad tale of the salvage of the Retriever.
From the cook he learned that the Retriever carried a million feet of lumber; that she was owned by Cappy Ricks; that Cappy Ricks was the president of the Blue Star Navigation Company, and the most contemptible old scoundrel in all the world; that the skipper was a blue-nose and a devil and a fine man rolled into one; that the barkentine could sail like a yacht; and that presently they would up-hook and off to Grays Harbor, Washington, there to load a cargo of fir lumber for Cape Town.
As he lay on the white surface looking like a round black fuss ball, my leaders could plainly see him. They now understood what I wanted and fought their way bravely toward the little retriever, carrying with them the line that gave me yet another chance for my life. The other dogs followed them, and all but one succeeded in getting out on the new haven of refuge.
Of course when lunch time came round and I hadn't heard any proposition I felt I could submit to your father, I invited Miss Fontaine and her lawyer to luncheon with me in the Palace Hotel Grill, and while we were lunching, who should come up and greet me but my old friend, the Duke of Killiekrankie, formerly Duncan MacGregor, first mate of our barkentine Retriever.
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