“And then send it over to the bank and certify it,” Matt added, “because before I get through with you, Mr. Ricks, you'll be tempted to stop payment on it, if I know you—and I think I do.”
Half an hour later Cappy handed Matt Peasley, a certified check for twenty thousand dollars, and in exchange the latter handed Cappy the only proof the Red Stack people would have had, over and above the contradictory testimony of the crews of the respective vessels, that the services of their tug constituted salvage and not towage. Cappy read it, tore it into shreds and glared at Matt Peasley.
“Matt,” he said very solemnly, “I'm glad this thing happened. I've always had a good opinion of you, but now I know that though you have many excellent qualities you do not possess that quality which above all others I require in an employee or a son-in-law.
“You aren't loyal. You had the sweetest case of salvage against our vessel that any man could go into court with, and you kicked it away like that, just for your own selfish ends. You sacrificed your shipmates, who would have been awarded a pro rata of the salvage, and you were false to the trust your owners reposed in you.”
Cappy stood up, his face pale with fury, and shook an admonitory finger under Matt Peasley's nose.
“That act, sir, is an index of your true character,” he thundered. “A master who will deceive his owners, who will be false to their interests, is a scoundrel, sir; do you hear me?—a scoundrel. You will oblige me, sir, by refraining from any attentions to my daughter in the future. To think that you have descended to such a petty, miserable subterfuge to trick me and rob your owners! Thank God, I have found you out in time!”
“Yes, isn't it fortunate?” Matt answered humorously. “And if you get any angrier you'll bust an artery and die.”
“Out of my office!” Cappy raved; for though he was a business man, and never hesitated to do business in a businesslike way, he was the soul of business honor, and in all his life he had never taken a mean or unfair advantage of those who trusted him. The knowledge that Matt Peasley had done such a thing filled him with rage not unmixed with sorrow.
“I'll be gone in a minute,” Matt replied gently; “only before I go permit me to tell you something, and on my honor as a man and a sailor I assure you I speak the truth. That wasn't a salvage job at all.”
“What?”