tribe--well, the Peasleys always did their duty; I'll say that for
them. I hope he stands the acid."

Whereupon Cappy Ricks squared round to his desk and wrote:

San Francisco, July 5, 19--.

Captain Matthew Peasley,
Master Barkentine Retriever,
Hoquiam, Washington.

Glad you have legal right to be called captain. Sorry I have
not. Proceed to Weatherby's mill, at Cosmopolis, and load for
Antofagasta, Chile. Remember speed synonymous with dividends
in shipping business.

Blue Star Navigation Company.

When Cappy signed his telegrams with the company name it was always a
sure indication he had discharged his cargo of sentiment and gotten
down to business once more.

"A little creosoted piling now and then is bully for the best of men,"
he cackled. "For a month of Sundays that man Peasley will curse me as
far as he can smell the Retriever. Oh, well! Every dog must have his
day--and I'm a wise old dog. I'll teach that Matt boy some respect
for his owners before I'm through with him!"