maritime experience, eh? I'll show him!"

Oh, Sally Brown, I love your daughter,
I love your daughter, indeed I do,

he caroled, and buck-and-winged his way back to the poop, for he was
only a boy, life was good, he was fighting a fight and as Mr. Murphy
remarked a minute later when Matt ordered him to bend the
fore-staysail on her; "What the hell!"

Day and night Matt Peasley drove her into it. He stood far off shore
until he ran out of the sou'east trades, fiddled around two days in
light airs and then picked up the nor'east trades; drove her well into
the north, hauled round and came romping up to Grays Harbor bar
seventy-nine days from Cape Town. A bar tug, ranging down the coast,
hooked on to him and snaked him in.



CHAPTER XI

MR. SKINNER RECEIVES A TELEGRAM


Cappy Ricks was having his customary mid-afternoon nap in his big
swivel chair and his feet on his desk, when Mr. Skinner came in and
woke him up.

"I just couldn't help it, sir," he announced apologetically, as Cappy
opened one eye and glared at him, "I had to wake you up and tell you