"Didn't you two ever go to school?" Matt raved. "Didn't you ever
study geography? Why under the canopy should we waste our time and
burn up our good coal steaming to Pernambuco, Brazil, South America,
for orders? Let me put it to you two in words of one syllable: The
_Narcissus_ is chartered to carry a cargo of coal from Norfolk,
Virginia, to Batavia or Manila. At the time of charter--and
sailing--the charterers are undecided which port she is to discharge
at, so they ask us to step over to Pernambuco and find out. Now,
whether the vessel discharges at Batavia or Manila, her course in the
Atlantic Ocean while en route to either port is identical! She passes
round the Cape of Good Hope, which is at the extreme south end of
Africa. If her course, on the contrary, was round Cape Horn or through
the Straits of Magellan there might be some sense in sending her over
to the east coast of South America for orders. But whether she is
ordered to Manila or Batavia, the fact remains that she must put in to
Durban, South Africa, for fuel to continue her voyage; so why in the
name of the Flying Dutchman couldn't the charterers cable the orders
to Mike Murphy at Durban? The _Narcissus_ is worth a thousand dollars
a day, so you waste a few thousand dollars worth of her time, at the
very least, sending her to Pernambuco when a ten-dollar cablegram to
Durban would have done the business! I suppose all you two brilliant
shipping men could see was a ten-dollar-a-ton freight rate. Eh?
You--landlubbers! A-a-g-r-r-h! I was never so angry since the day I
was born."

While Matt ranted on, Mr. Skinner's classic features had been slowly
taking on the general color tones of a ripe old Edam cheese, while at
the conclusion of Matt's oration Cappy Ricks' eyes were sticking out
like twin semaphores. He clasped his hands.