“Mr. Ricks,” he began, “this is Peasley talking from Eureka. I have to report that I'm fired out of the Quickstep. I'm not complaining about that or asking you to reinstate me, because I can get another job now, but I want to tell you why I was fired. The captain got a grouch against me coming up. We had a nor'west gale on our port counter and she rolled and bucked until even some of the crew got seasick. I'm ashamed to say I fell by the wayside myself for a few minutes, and Captain Kjellin caught me draped over the weather bridge railing. So I guess he thought I wasn't much of a seaman. Anyhow he picked on me from then on, and a little while ago he ordered me to mule shingles with the longshoremen in the after hold. I couldn't do that, Mr. Ricks. I'm a ship's officer, and besides you've simply got to have somebody to watch the slings when they're coming into the ship at the rate of two a minute or somebody will get hurt, and then the vessel will be sued for damages. You see we were working overtime and in a hurry to get loaded—”
“I see everything,” Cappy retorted. “What happened next?”
“The captain got me foul in his cabin when I went to be paid off, and hung a shanty back of my ear, so I threw him out on deck and hurt him. You'll have to send a new skipper up to bring the Quickstep home, sir. The first mate is a good man but he hasn't a master's license—”
“What did you do to Kjellin, Matt?”
“You'll have to ask a doctor, sir. I didn't intend to break him up, but it seems I damaged all his Latin superstructure, and he'll have to go to a hospital for a couple of months. I'm sorry I hurt your skipper, sir, and I felt I couldn't leave your employ, Mr. Ricks, without an explanation.”
“You haven't left my employ at all. Get back on the job and load that vessel, or the first thing you know you'll be stuck in port over Sunday, and that's not the way to make a start as master of the Quickstep. You have a license as master of steam, haven't you?”
“Yes, sir. I can handle her, sir.”
“Then do it and don't stand there burning up good money on the long-distance phone. The Quickstep is yours—on one condition.”
“I accept it, sir,” Matt exclaimed, overjoyed. “What is it?”
“That you stick in her at least six months.”