Captain Matt Peasley's first act after consummating his first successful
deal was to purchase for the Pacific Shipping Company a membership in
the Merchants' Exchange, on the floor of which he knew he would meet
daily all the shipping 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 membership 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 Tillicum. 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 glasses, 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 Tillicum?”
“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 Shipping 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 shipping 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 Tillicum 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 ship. On his part, Matt, whose
apprenticeship 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
shipping man on the street, looked with frank curiosity at Matt's modest
card.
“Pacific Shipping 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 constitute a fleet
if one be not inclined to split conversational hairs; “but we sold them
and decided to go into the steamship business. We hope to buy or build a
line of freighters to run to Atlantic Coast ports via the Panama Canal.”
“What steam vessels have you got now?” Kelton queried interestedly.
“Only one at present, Mr. Kelton. We've acquired the Tillicum, late of
the Blue Star fleet.”
“Indeed!” replied Kelton.
He was all attention now; for, though Matt Peasley did not know it, less
than ten days previous Kelton had tried to charter the Tillicum direct
from Cappy Ricks, who, knowing something of the financial condition
of Morrow & Company, had declined to consider a charter unless under a
guaranty of payment other than that of Morrow & Company. Kelton was in
urgent need of a steamer to cope with the congestion of freight, and the
Tillicum suited the purpose of his company admirably; hence, the news
that he might still be able to acquire her filled him with sudden hope.
“Indeed!” he reiterated. “I had no idea Cappy Ricks contemplated selling
her, though it has been common talk on the street that he made a mistake
in building such a big boat as the Tillicum for the coastwise lumber
trade. She was too hard to find business for, and I dare say he was sick
of his bargain.”
“Well, I thought we'd take a chance on her,” Matt replied, not taking
the trouble to disabuse Kelton of the impression to which he had
apparently jumped--to wit, that the Pacific Shipping Company had
purchased the Tillicum.
“What do you intend doing with her?” Kelton continued.
“They tell me business is good on the Panama run, and it will be better
when the Canal is opened. However, until the Canal does open, we would
prefer to keep out of the Pacific Coast trade. Competition always means
a rate war, with consequent loss to both parties to the struggle; so
we'd rather charter the Tillicum for a year if we could. I heard you
were in the market for a boat.”
“I think we might use the Tillicum,” Kelton replied. “What are you
asking for her?”
Matt named a figure considerably in advance of what he expected to
receive and stipulated a bare-boat charter--that is to say, Kelton's
company should pay the entire cost of operating the vessel, and select
her crew and officers with the exception of the captain and chief
engineer, it being customary among many owners, when chartering
a vessel, to stipulate that their own captain, in whom they have
confidence, shall command her. Cappy Ricks always specified his own
skipper and chief engineer.
When Matt named his figure Kelton promptly shouted “Thief!” but made
the mistake of shouting too loud--whereat Matt Peasley knew he was not
sincere and promptly decided to outgame him. At the end of half an hour
of argument and much futile figuring, which deceived nobody, Matt abated
his price twenty-five dollars a day and Kelton said he would think it
over. Matt knew the charter was as good as closed, and when he left
Morrow & Company's office he repaired straight to that of Cappy Ricks.
“I think I'll be able to recharter, Mr. Ricks,” he said confidently.
“Have you any objection to Morrow & Company as recharterers?”
Cappy started slightly, hesitated a fraction of a second, and replied
that he had no objection whatsoever.
“Very well, sir,” Matt replied. “Will you please have Mr. Skinner
prepare the charter parties right away, sign them, and send them over to
my office for my signature? I can't wait to sign them now. And about the
captain--I suppose you'll want to put in your own skipper, of course.
Who is he?”
“Captain Grant.”
“Have you any objection to inserting a clause in the charter party
stipulating that, if for any reason Captain Grant proves objectionable
to the charterers, I may take command of the vessel myself? As charterer
I will have a very vital interest in the vessel and I might feel called
on to protect that interest personally.”
“Matt,” said Cappy earnestly, “I'll trust you in preference to most men
with any ship of mine. Still, Grant is a very able man.”
“He might be too slow for me, Mr. Ricks. I prefer to have a spare anchor
in case of necessity.”
“Well, have it your own way,” Cappy acquiesced, and summoned Mr. Skinner
to prepare the charter parties, while Matt went back to his own office
and gave instructions that he was not to be called to the telephone.
Something told him that Kelton would be ringing up before the day was
over to accept his price on the Tillicum, and he did not want to be
placed in the position of having to give a yes or no answer until he had
seen Cappy Ricks' charter parties, with Cappy's signature attached. He
would then close up his deal with Morrow & Company, after which he would
sign Cappy's charter parties and turn two copies over to Cappy. In this
way he would be enabled to play safe and save his face in case any hitch
occurred at the last minute.
The charter parties, duly signed and in triplicate, arrived from Cappy
Ricks in the morning's mail, with a request from Cappy for Matt to
append his signature to two copies and return them to the Blue Star
Navigation Company. Matt, after first assuring himself that the
instrument was in order, called up Kelton, who informed him that he
would accept Matt's offer for a year's charter of the Tillicum. Within
half an hour Matt had his charter parties ready for Kelton's signature
and the deal was closed; whereupon Matt signed the charter party Cappy
Ricks had sent him and handed it to Cappy, together with a check for
nine thousand dollars--one half the monthly rental of the Tillicum.
Cappy whistled softly through his teeth as he handed the documents to
Mr. Skinner and instructed him to put the Tillicum in commission at
once.