Cappy Ricks Part 36

"The finest game in the world," Matt replied heartily. "I had the Ethel Ricks snaked out of the mud and hauled out on the marine railway, where I bossed a gang of riggers and sailmakers for a week, getting her gear in shape while she was having a gas engine and tanks for the distillate installed. Then I gave her a dab of paint here and there, sweetened her up, and sold her to Slade, of the Alaska Codfis.h.i.+ng Corporation, at a net profit of fifteen hundred dollars over her total cost to me. Nearly two thousand for my first month in business. Not so bad, eh?"

"You'll do better after a while," Cappy remarked dryly. "I hear you've been to Mexico. How about it, boy?"

"I took the Harpoon down myself, and hired a skipper to take the Nukahiva. Before doing so, however, I overhauled their gear and installed gas engines in them also--only I'd learned something by this time. I bought second-hand engines, rebuilt, but with a guaranty, and they cost me a thousand dollars less than new engines. In conversation with Captain Kirk, of the steamer San Blas, I had heard that a company in Guaymas was thinking of buying a couple of little coasting schooners, putting gas engines in them, and adding these crafts to their fleet running out of Guaymas to Mazatlan, Topolobampo, and way ports. So I went down, put my schooners under the Mexican flag, and started opposition. The old-established company went to the local military commander and tried to get him to commandeer my vessels for the use of the government, which pays in depreciated s.h.i.+nplasters that may be worth something some day a hundred years from now."

"Whew-w-w!" Cappy whistled. "That was a narrow squeak, Matt. How did you dodge it?"

"I had the local military commander on my payroll, with good American gold, before I ever started anything. I knew he'd come to shake me down; so I antic.i.p.ated him and made a monthly donation to the cause of liberty. I do not know for certain, but I imagine he went south with it himself, though I do not begrudge the amount. I only paid him for one month anyhow. By that time I had an offer to sell out; and I did, reluctantly, but for real money and at a much better figure than if I had not made it an object for them to buy. I got out with a net profit of seventy-four hundred and fifty dollars on the two schooners. Not so bad, eh, Mr. Ricks? Over nine thousand dollars in less than three months? Of course, I realize I could not have made that much if I hadn't had the funds with which to speculate."

Cappy nodded. Words were beyond him for the time being. Finally he said:

"Matt, that was pure gambling, though you think it was a speculation.

It was mighty poor business, even if you did emerge with a fancy profit.

You might have been cleaned out."

"Yes; and if the hare hadn't stopped to take a nap the tortoise would not have won the race," Matt replied. "So far as I can see, all business is a gamble and every investment is a bet; hence, a good business man is a good gambler."

Cappy Ricks sighed.

"There is a special providence," he said, "that looks after fools, drunken men and sailors."

CHAPTER x.x.xIX. EASY MONEY

Captain Matt Peasley's first act after consummating his first successful deal was to purchase for the Pacific s.h.i.+pping Company a members.h.i.+p in the Merchants' Exchange, on the floor of which he knew he would meet daily all the s.h.i.+pping men of San Francisco, and thus be enabled to keep in touch with trade conditions.

He had been a member less than a week when the wisdom of spending five hundred dollars for his members.h.i.+p was made delightfully apparent. While he stood watching the secretary chalk on the blackboard the record of the latest arrivals and departures, he heard a man behind him speaking:

"Heyfuss, I'm in the market to charter another freighter for the Panama run. You might look round and see whether you can line something up for us. I'd like about a two-thousand-ton boat; and we could charter her for a year."

"There's only one vessel available," the man addressed as Heyfuss answered; "and that's the Tillic.u.m. Cappy Ricks had her laid up in Oakland Creek--"

Matt moved away and approached a clerk at the desk.

"That dark-haired man with the thick gla.s.ses, talking with Mr. Heyfuss,"

he said--"who is he?"

"That is Mr. Henry Kelton, manager of G. H. Morrow Company," the clerk answered. "They operate a line of sailing vessels foreign and half a dozen steamers to South American ports."

Matt thanked him, entered a telephone booth and on consulting the telephone directory, discovered that J. O. Heyfuss was a broker.

"I'll have to step lively to beat Heyfuss to it," he soliloquized, and forthwith hastened down to the office of the Blue Star Navigation Company.

"Well, young man!" Cappy greeted him genially. "How about you?"

"Never mind me. How about the Tillic.u.m?"

"Laid up in Oakland Inner Harbor waiting for better times."

"I think I can give her some business. Would you charter her to the Pacific s.h.i.+pping Company?"

"Well," Cappy replied, "I might be induced to take a chance in these hard times. How much money have you in bank to-day?"

"In a pinch I could lay my hands on thirty thousand, cash."

"Well," said Cappy thoughtfully, "that little roll, plus an established credit and a reputation for business experience, might carry you far with some people--but not with me. You're not a safe bet--yet; but we can make it safe."

"How?"

"You can pay the charter money in advance," Cappy answered smilingly.

"I have decided not to do any more gambling, Mr. Ricks. Hereafter, as near as such a thing may be humanly possible, I'm going to play a sure thing. Therefore, all things being equal, if I can guarantee you your price for the steamer, on a year's charter, you do not care what I do with the vessel, provided that I do not injure her?"

"Certainly."

"Well, then, in order to play safe and protect you, suppose I charter her from you, contingent on my ability to recharter her to some responsible s.h.i.+pping firm. Under those conditions would you exact the charter money in advance? You know very well that when I collect my money from the charterers you'll get yours right away."

"Without question, Matt; but sometimes a fellow cannot collect his money from the charterers, and then the owner has to wait. I'm taking no chances to speak of on you, Matthew, my son; but for the sake of making it a sporting proposition I'll talk business on the basis of fifty per cent. of the charter money, payable monthly in advance."

"That's cold-blooded, but I can stand it. What is the Tillic.u.m going to cost me a day?"

"What kind of charter do you want--government form or bare boat?"

"You might give me an option with a price based on each form. I haven't the slightest idea what form my prospective victim prefers, though I prefer a bare-boat charter. I will close with you on whatever basis he prefers, if that is satisfactory."

"I'll make many concessions to get that vessel out of the mud and to sea, and paying a reasonable rate on the money invested in her. I hate to keep a good skipper and a good chief engineer on the beach, and I want them to begin drawing their salaries again."

Cappy reached into his desk and produced a little loose-leaf memorandum book, and from certain figures therein contained he commenced to figure what he should charge Matt for the s.h.i.+p. On his part, Matt, whose apprentices.h.i.+p under the Blue Star had made him tolerably familiar with every steamer in the fleet, got out a pad and pencil and commenced to figure the cost of operation himself. Not knowing the cost of the steamer or the ratio of profit Cappy might expect on the investment, however, he was more or less at sea until Cappy had named his figures; whereupon Matt pretended to do some more figuring. Finally he frowned and said:

"Fifty dollars a day too much."

He did not know a thing about it, but he knew Cappy Ricks well enough to know that Cappy would first decide on his minimum price and then add a hundred dollars a day for good measure; hence, Yankeelike, Matt commenced to chaffer, with the result that before he left the office Cappy had abated his price fifty dollars a day and given Matt a forty-eight-hour option on the vessel, agreeing to charter her to him at the figures specified, contingent on Matt's ability to recharter her to a responsible firm.

Cappy chuckled as Matt Peasley left the office.

"You're taking a pretty big bite, Matt," he soliloquized; "so I'll handicap you. And if anything goes wrong, and you fail to collect from your people, I'll give you a lesson in high finance that you'll never forget, young man! I'll bet my immortal soul you're going to try to do business with Morrow & Company; and if that outfit isn't scheduled for involuntary bankruptcy, then I'm a Chinaman. A charter for a year, eh?

They'll never last a year. They'll bust, owing you a month's charter money, Matthew, and the vessel will be at sea, most likely, or in a South American port, when that happens; and you can't throw her back on me until you deliver her in her home port. And meantime your charter to me keeps rambling right along, and I'll attach your bankroll if you're a day late with your payment in advance. Yes, sir; I'll break you in two for the good of your immortal soul. Matt--Matt, my son--something tells me you're monkeying with fire and liable to get burned."

From Cappy Ricks' office Matt Peasley called on Kelton of Morrow & Company. Kelton, a shrewd, double-action sort of person and the smartest s.h.i.+pping man on the street, looked with frank curiosity at Matt's modest card.

"Pacific s.h.i.+pping Company, eh? That's a new one on me, Captain Peasley,"

he said.

"It's a new one on me also," Matt replied humorously; "in fact, it is too recent to be very well known. We've been operating a fleet of windjammers, with auxiliary power, down on the Mexican Coast," he added truthfully, calm in the knowledge that two schooners const.i.tute a fleet if one be not inclined to split conversational hairs; "but we sold them and decided to go into the steams.h.i.+p business. We hope to buy or build a line of freighters to run to Atlantic Coast ports via the Panama Ca.n.a.l."

"What steam vessels have you got now?" Kelton queried interestedly.