San Francisco.

Skipper dying sea foreign port unwritten maritime law
stipulates mate succeeds. Yankee can sail anything afloat.
This my chance. Grant it or insure successor's life. Will
throw him overboard on arrival.

Peasley.

Mr. Skinner promptly carried this defi to Cappy Ricks.

"He's a sea-lawyer," Cappy piped angrily. "The scoundrel! The
un-mi-ti-ga-ted--scoundrel! Cable him instantly, Skinner, that if he
spends another cent of our money in unnecessary cablegrams I'll fire
him." He snapped his fingers. "Attend to it, Skinner, attend to it."

Mr. Skinner attended to it, and the following morning he found this
reply on his desk when he came down to work:

Cape Town, Feb. 17, 19--.

Bluestar,
San Francisco.

Holler when you're hit. Paid for it myself. Am I to bring
Retriever home?

Peasley.

"I dare say the fellow did," Mr. Skinner informed Cappy. "He has four