Cappy Ricks Part 7

"Not a thing, Mike. I've always had to climb the big fellows."

"Then I'll teach you," Mr. Murphy announced with conviction. "You're in fine shape now--as right as a fox and fit to tackle the finest, but there isn't any sense in getting mauled up when you don't have to. I'll go ash.o.r.e and buy a set of six-ounce gloves, a set of two-ounce gloves and a punching bag. For the next three weeks you won't have anything to do except prepare for the battle, and I can teach you a lot of good stuff in three weeks. To be fore-warned is to be fore-armed, Matt, and if Cappy has sent a Holy Terror to clean you, give him a regular fight, even if he licks you."

Matt Peasley nodded. He entertained a profound respect for Mr. Murphy's judgment.

CHAPTER X. THE BATTLE OF TABLE BAY

In due course Captain Ole Peterson arrived at Cape Town. As the steamer which bore him slipped up Table Bay to her pier All Hands And Feet saw a big barkentine, flying the American flag, at anchor just inside the breakwater and rightly conjectured she was his future command. Three hours ash.o.r.e proved ample time to consummate all of the Retriever's neglected business. He discovered that the man to whom he was to administer a good, sound, commercial thras.h.i.+ng, as per Cappy Ricks'

instructions, had already purchased and gotten aboard stores and water for the voyage back to Grays Harbor, so All Hands And Feet drew some money from the consignees, to be deducted from the freight money, paid off all the vessel's bills, O.K.'d the consignees' statement of account to be forwarded to the owners, received a ninety-day draft on London, in payment of the freight, mailed it to his owners, cleared his vessel, procured a reliable man to witness the formal transfer of authority from Matt Peasley to himself, engaged a launch and set out for the Retriever.

All Hands And Feet had had ample time to plan his campaign, and he had planned it well. Immediately upon setting foot on the deck of the Retriever he planned to attack; then, this duty accomplished, he would send his witness ash.o.r.e, up hook and away. The attack having taken place in British waters All Hands And Feet hoped Matt Peasley would have no redress in American waters; and if he took the complainant to sea with him the man Peasley would, of a certainty, have no legal redress in British waters!

Mr. Murphy was the first to sight All Hands And Feet. The worthy fellow had observed the arrival of the steamer and it had occurred to him that possibly Cappy Ricks' messenger might be aboard her. He had been on the lookout for two hours, accordingly, and the instant he saw a launch coming toward the Retriever his suspicions were fully aroused. He ran below and returned with the two ounce gloves and Captain Kendall's powerful marine gla.s.ses, which latter he leveled at the approaching launch, and while the new skipper was still a couple of cable lengths distant, Mr. Murphy recognized him. Instantly he secured the two ounce gloves and ran aft to where Matt Peasley, dressed in slippers, duck trousers and unders.h.i.+rt, sat under an awning reading Sinful Peck.

"Matt," he declared, "the special messenger will be aboard in about three shakes of a lamb's tail. I recognize him."

"Who is he?" Matt demanded coolly.

"All Hands And Feet--and believe me, he's there! He isn't a man, Matt, he's a bear--he's a devil, and if he ever gets his hands on you it's Kitty bar the door! Get into the gloves, boy, get into the gloves. You could smash that big Swede to your heart's content, but you wouldn't even stagger him with the first few punches. You'd just break your hands on him before you could knock him out and then he'd walk over you. Into the gloves, Matt, and save your knuckles."

"All right, Mike. Don't be in such a hurry. Call a couple of hands and let down the companion ladder so the special messenger can bring his dunnage aboard. I'll fight him after I've finished this chapter--that is, if he insists on being accommodated."

"He'll insist," Mr. Murphy declared. "He likes it, and the reason he likes it is because he does it well, and that's the reason he's here. He won't waste any ceremony on you, Matt. He's always up and doing."

Matt finished his chapter of Sinful Peck just as All Hands And Feet, followed by a Cape Town gentleman and two Kru boys, bearing respectively a brown canvas telescope basket and a sea chest, bore down upon him, convoyed by Mr. Murphy.

"A big Swede skipper," Matt Peasley soliloquized, as he eyed the stranger with alert interest. "Thunder, but he's big. He's the biggest thing I ever saw walking on two legs, with the exception of a trick elephant." He rose, put down his book and advanced to greet his visitors. While All Hands And Feet was still fully thirty feet from him he bawled aloud:

"You ban Mr. Peasley?"

"Captain Peasley," young Matt corrected him. "Since the death of Captain Kendall I have been in charge of the vessel; hence, for the present, I am known as Captain Peasley. What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

All Hands And Feet glanced appraisingly at Matt Peasley and did him the honor to remove his coat and vest.

"Yes; it's pretty hot down in these lat.i.tudes," Matt remarked, by way of being pleasant and making conversation.

All Hands And Feet removed an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to Matt; and while the latter perused it the big Swede strode to the scuttle b.u.t.t and helped himself to a drink of water. Matt opened the envelope and read this communication from Cappy Ricks:

San Francisco, California.

February 20, 19--.

Mr. Matthew Peasley, Chief Mate Barkentine Retriever, Cape Town, South Africa.

My Dear Mr. Peasley:

Cast your eye along the lines of the bearer of this note, Captain Ole Peterson, who comes to Cape Town to take command of the Retriever. Within five minutes he will, acting under instructions from me and without the slightest personal animus toward yourself, proceed to administer to you the beating of a lifetime. By the time he gets through wiping the deck with you perhaps you will realize the necessity, in the future, of obeying orders from your owners.

In your cablegram received to-day, you take occasion to remind us that no manager or owner has authority to disrate a s.h.i.+p's officer. This is quite true. Such authority is vested only in the master of the s.h.i.+p. You need have no fear for your job, however. We believe you to be a clever first mate, otherwise Captain Kendall would not have dug you up out of the forecastle; and believing this, naturally we dislike the thought of disrating you. We have, therefore, instructed Captain Peterson to retain you in your berth as first mate.

However, in view of the fact that we have informed him of your amiable intentions of throwing him overboard, he will first inculcate in you that spirit of respect to your superiors which you so manifestly lack. He will then dip you into the drink, to bring you to, and after that you will kindly go forward and break out the anchor. You signed for the round trip and you're going to complete your contract. Remember that.

Cordially and sincerely yours, Blue Star Navigation Company, By Alden P. Ricks, President.

Matt Peasley read this extraordinary communication twice, then folded it and calmly placed it in his pocket.

"May I inquire, sir," he said, facing the gentleman who had accompanied All Hands And Feet aboard the Retriever, "who you are and the nature of your business?"

"I am the American consul, Mr. Peasley, and I am here at the invitation of Captain Peterson, the master of this s.h.i.+p, to witness the formal transfer of authority from you to him. I was given to understand by Captain Peterson that you might offer some slight objection to this arrangement."

"Slight objection!" Matt Peasley replied with a rising inflection, and grinned maliciously.

The consul had his Yankee sense of humor with him and chuckled as Matt lifted his big body on his toes and stretched both arms lazily. Then Matthew Peasley turned toward All Hands And Feet.

"I have a letter from the owners of the Retriever," he said respectfully, "which leads me to presume that you are to supersede me in command of the vessel." All Hands And Feet nodded. "Which being the case," Matt Peasley continued, "as a mere matter of formality, you will of course present your credentials as master."

"Sure!" Ole replied pleasantly, and sidled toward Matt Peasley with outstretched arms. Could Cappy Ricks have seen his skipper then, he would have reminded the Old Man more than ever of a bear.

Matt Peasley needed no blueprint of the big Swede's plans. All Hands And Feet, depending on his sheer horse power and superior weight, always fought in ma.s.s formation, as it were. His modus operandi was to embrace his enemy in those terrible arms, squeeze the breath out of him with one bearlike hug, then lay him on the deck, straddle him, and pummel him into insensibility at his leisure. Matt gave ground rapidly and held up a warning hand.

"One moment, my friend," he requested. "Before you get familiar on brief acquaintance, don't you think you had better present your credentials?"

All Hands And Feet shook his two great fists and grinned good-naturedly.

"How dese ban suit you for credentials?" he queried.

"Fine," Matt Peasley answered; "only, before you present them, our first duty is to the s.h.i.+p. I take it that you have cleared the vessel and that after tr.i.m.m.i.n.g me you intend to put to sea."

"You ban guess it," the Swede rumbled. "Put up de dooks. Anyhow, I ban't have to fight little feller. Dat ban one comfort."

"You cleared the s.h.i.+p, eh? Well, Swede, I'm glad to hear that. I should have cleared her myself and sailed long ago if I had only had a skipper's ticket; but these British custom-house officials are great sticklers for red tape and they wouldn't clear me. And, of course, a man can't sail without his papers. When he does they send a gunboat after him. However," he added brightly "the s.h.i.+p is cleared and the skipper--so I am unofficially informed--is aboard. By the way, Swede, I left a lot of O.K.'d bills for stores and provision up at the office of the Harlow & Benton Company, Limited. Did you square up for them?"

"Yah; everything ban s.h.i.+pshape," All Hands And Feet a.s.sured him.

"And you insist on presenting your credentials in bunches of fives, eh?"

All Hands And Feet nodded and once more commenced sidling toward Matt Peasley, who backed away again, meantime addressing himself to the United States consul:

"You heard what he said, Mr. Consul. He may be my superior officer, but I have not been informed of that fact officially; and meantime, so far as I am concerned, he is merely a fine, big squarehead who has climbed aboard my s.h.i.+p uninvited and attacked me. Did you ever see a sea bully licked, Mr. Consul?"

"I have never had that pleasure, Mr. Peasley."

All the time Matt Peasley was circling around the deck, with All Hands And Feet sidling after him.

"Then you've got something coming, sir," Matt replied. "Help yourself to a reserved seat on the rail and watch the joyous procedure. Mr. Murphy?"

"Here, sir," Mr. Murphy replied promptly.