“At San Diego?” Cappy and Skinner cried in unison.
“At San Diego.”
“But you said you were going to Panama on the City of Para, the regular passenger liner,” Cappy challenged.
“Well, I wasn't committed to that course, sir. After leaving your office I changed my mind. I figured the Tillicum was somewhere off the coast of Lower California; so I wirelessed Captain Grant, explained to him that the ship was back on my hands by reason of the failure of Morrow & Company, and ordered him to put into San Diego for further orders. He proceeded there; I proceeded there; we met; I presented your letter relieving him of his command. Simple enough, isn't it?”
“But what became of him?”
“How should I know, sir? I've been as busy as a bird dog down in Panama. Please let me get on with my story. I had just cleared Point Loma and was about to surrender the bridge to my first mate when an interesting little message came trickling out of the ether—and my wireless boy picked it up, because it was addressed to 'Captain Grant, Master S. S. Tillicum.'”
Cappy Ricks quivered and licked his lower lip, but said nothing.
“That message,” Matt continued, “was brought to me by the operator, who really didn't know what to do with it. Captain Grant had left the ship and Sparks didn't know what hotel in San Diego the late master of the Tillicum would put up for the night; so I read the message to see whether it was important, for I felt that it had to do with the ship's business and that I was justified in reading it.”
Again Cappy Ricks squirmed. Mr. Skinner commenced to gnaw his thumb nail.
“That message broke me all up,” Matt continued sadly. “It destroyed completely my faith in human nature and demonstrated beyond a doubt that there is no such thing in this world as fair play in business. It's like a waterfront fight. You just get your man down and everything goes—kicking, biting, gouging, knee-work!” Matt sighed dolorously and drew from his vest pocket a scrap of paper. “Just listen to this for a message!” He continued. “Just imagine how nice you'd feel, Mr. Ricks, if you were skippering a boat and picked up a message like this at sea: