Mr. Skinner's eyes fairly popped. “You don't mean to tell me, sir, that you've given the Quickstep to that rowdy Peasley?”
Cappy relapsed into the colloquialism of the younger generation with which he was wont to associate at luncheon. “Surest thing you know,” he said.
“If I may be permitted a criticism, Mr. Ricks—”
“You may not.”
“Your sentimental leaning toward your fellow townsman may be the cause of losing one of the best paying ships of the fleet.”
“Forget it, Skinner!”
“Oh, very well. You're the boss, Mr. Ricks. But if I were in your place I would have an older and more experienced man to relieve him the moment he comes into the bay. You must remember, Mr. Ricks, that while he may run her very nicely during the summer months, he has had no experience on Humboldt Bay during the winter months—”
“Skinner, the only way he'll ever accumulate experience on that bar is to give him the opportunity.”
“He'll take big risks. He's very young and headstrong.”
“I admit he's fiery. But I promised him a ship, and he's earned her sooner than I planned, so, even if my decision loses the Quickstep for us, he shall have her. I'll be swindled if I ever did see the like of that boy Matt. He gets results. And do you know why, Skinner?”