“There is only one thing that a shipping man in this country has more respect for than an Order in Council—and that is an Order in the United States District Court!”
“Naturally. It's backed up by our army and navy.”
“By the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, somebody's sporting blood is going to be tested today; and something tells, me, Augustus, my dear young friend, that it's going to be Matt Peasley's.”
“What makes you think so, Cappy?”
Again Cappy chuckled.
“Having used German methods to bring about this auction sale,” he confessed, “I concluded to steal a little more of this Teutonic stuff; so I established a system of espionage in Skinner's office and another in Matt Peasley's. Gus, I got a lot of low-down information on those two young pups; they're trying to slip something over on the old dog.”
“Well, they'll never teach him any new tricks, Cappy.”
“You know it! I observe that, as usual, Jim Searles will conduct the auction. He's climbing up on the block now, and, by the Toenails of Moses, Matt Peasley is on the job! Look, Gus! You can see his black head sticking up out of the heart of the riot.”
As Cappy and Redell joined the crowd Jim Searles, by acclamation the auctioneer of the Port of San Francisco, rapped smartly with his little gavel, and a tense silence settled over the crowd.
“This,” Mr. Searles announced, “will be a fight to a finish, winner take all. In accordance with an order of the United States District Court I am about to sell, at public auction, to the highest bidder, the Mexican Steamship General Carranza, ex-German Steamship Bavarian, to satisfy the following judgments: Mr. J. Augustus Redell—”