“He's fine, Mike. He wanted me to work for him, but I don't like his general manager—Mr. Olson, full speed ahead or you'll smash our stern against this barkentine. Steady! That's better. Astern a trifle. Steady! Mike, how've you been since I saw you last?”
CHAPTER XXXV. A DIRTY YANKEE TRICK
“Skinner,” said Cappy Ricks, “I was called out of my bed at five o'clock this morning by the night operator at the Merchants' Exchange. He told me our Retriever was in the breakers just south of Point Reyes, but that a tug was standing by. What have you heard since?”
“She drifted in there in a calm last night, sir,” Mr. Skinner replied. “Fortunately the Point Reyes lookout had reported her early yesterday evening, and one of the Red Stack tugs—the Sea Fox—took a chance and went out seeking. Lucky thing for us—”
“The tug hauled her off then?”
“Got a line aboard just in time. I had a telephone message from Captain Murphy at Meiggs Wharf ten minutes ago. The Retriever is anchored in the fairway.”
“What tug did you say it was?” Cappy queried.
“The Sea Fox.”
“That's Matt Peasley's command,” Cappy mused. “Lucky? I should say we are! It's up to the master of the tug very frequently whether, under such conditions, his task has been a mere towage job at the going rates or a salvage proposition to be settled in court. I dare say Matt will give us the benefit of the doubt and call it towage.”