For two voyages all went well. The Tillicum was engaged in carrying
general cargo to Panama for reshipment over the Panama Railroad to
Colon, at which point it was reshipped in steamers to ports along the
Atlantic seaboard. Following the universal custom, Matt's charter
with Morrow & Company stipulated settlement in full every thirty days,
whereas his charter with Cappy Ricks, for reasons best known to Cappy,
stipulated payment in full every fifteen days; which arrangement
operated to keep nine thousand dollars of Matt's money in Cappy's hands
continuously. This fact graveled Matt whenever he reflected that money
was worth at least seven per cent.; but, since he was making sixty
dollars a day profit as the result of his deal, he concluded not to
mention this point to Cappy Ricks.
Morrow & Company met the first monthly payment with cash on the nail. At
the second settlement, however, when Matt called for his check, Kelton
requested, as a special favor, that Matt allow him four days' time.
A clever talker, with a peculiarly winning way about him, he disarmed
suspicion very readily, and Matt assured him he would be very glad
indeed to extend him such a slight courtesy.
Meantime, however, Cappy Ricks had to be reckoned with; so, in order
not to keep him waiting, Matt sent him another check for nine thousand
dollars. Cappy now had eighteen thousand dollars of Matt's money; and
on the fourth day, when the latter called on Kelton for his check, the
latter actually made him feel ashamed of himself for calling and sent
him away with one-half of the sum now overdue! This perturbed Matt
somewhat, but when he showed some slight indication of it Kelton
playfully picked up a glass paper weight and threatened to destroy him
if he did not get out of the office at once; so, because it is difficult
to be serious with a man who declines to take one seriously, Matt forced
a grin and departed, with the light intimation that he would return in
three days, and if the check was not forthcoming then he would fresco
Kelton's office with the latter's life-blood.
“Get out!” shouted Kelton laughingly. “I know money is tight and I don't
blame you for being Fido-at-the-rat-hole; but if you bother me about
that check for a week I'll not speak to you.”
So Matt waited a week, and then the check reached him by mail, with a
courteous note from Kelton thanking him for his leniency. It seemed to
Matt he had scarcely acknowledged the receipt of that check before he
had to give Cappy Ricks another nine thousand dollars!
Morrow & Company were late again on the third month, but this time they
did not wait to be dunned. On the day before the payment was due Kelton
took Matt Peasley to luncheon and in the course of the meal he informed
Matt, quite casually, that he would be a little late with his check.
With two dollars' worth of his genial host's food under his belt,
Matt felt that it would be rude, to say the least, if he insisted on
settlement; so he said:
“Oh, don't worry about that, old man! Give it to me as soon as you can,
because I'm a little pinched myself.”
Nevertheless, Matt was beginning to worry, for his acquaintance
throughout the trade had extended rapidly, due to his propensity for
making friends, and he had heard one or two little rumors that Morrow &
Company had bitten off more than they could chew in a few big deals of
late and had been badly pinched; in fact, to such an extent did Matt
ponder on the possibility of the company's going into the hands of the
receiver, leaving his thirty thousand dollars to disappear into the
ravening maw of the Blue Star Navigation Company, that he forgot to send
Cappy his check for nine thousand dollars the day it was due. And the
next morning Cappy himself called up and, in a voice that seemed to come
straight from a cold-storage plant, asked him what he meant by it, and
requested him--though to Matt it sounded like a peremptory demand--to
send the check over at once. So angry and humiliated did Matt feel as
a result of this dun, he could not trust himself to call with the check
but sent it by special delivery.
The Tillicum had returned from her second voyage to Panama and was about
to commence loading her third cargo when another payment fell due. To
Matt's chagrin Kelton again pleaded for delay; and again Matt settled
with Cappy Ricks prior to collecting from Morrow & Company. Kelton had
promised a check on the following Wednesday, and on the appointed day
Matt called, only to be met with a request for further delay. Kelton
explained that Mr. Morrow had been taken very ill and things were at
sixes and sevens in the office as a result. Could not Matt wait until
Saturday, when Mr. Morrow would be back to sign a check?
“What's wrong with Morrow?” Matt demanded pointedly. “Has he got
paralysis of the right hand?”
“Worse than that,” Kelton answered seriously. “He's on the verge of
nervous prostration.”
“But can't you sign a check?”
“Y-e-s; but Mr. Morrow generally attends to all financial details.”
“Well, we'll excuse him from attending to this detail,” Matt replied. “I
want a check and I want it now, because it is a week overdue; the vessel
is nearly loaded and about to go to sea, and if I do not get my money--”
“Well, suppose I give you half of it now and the other half in a day or
two?” Kelton suggested.
He looked worried and unhappy, and Matt felt sorry for him; for, indeed,
Kelton was a likable chap and perfectly trustworthy, and Matt sensed
some of the worry that was falling on the manager in his desperate
efforts to run a business on short capital. However, Matt's own
financial shoestring was too short for him to afford any sentiment,
though, for the reason that he was naturally kind-hearted and
considerate, he consented to accept a check for half the amount due
and left Kelton to the society of the many devils which seemed to be
tormenting him.
On the sidewalk he paused suddenly. So Morrow was on the verge of
nervous prostration, eh? That was bad. It had been Matt's experience
that, as a usual thing, but two things conduce to bring about nervous
prostration--overwork and worry; and in Morrow's case it must be worry,
for Kelton did all the work! Kelton, too, looked haggard and drawn.
“I must be very careful,” Matt told himself, “for if that concern should
go broke while the Tillicum is en route to Panama my charter to Morrow &
Company may be considered to have terminated automatically; and if
they go under owing me from ten to twenty thousand dollars, I'm still
responsible to Cappy Ricks for my charter of the Tillicum until I can
bring her back to her home port and turn her back to him. Thank God for
that clause in the charter which gives me the privilege of terminating
my charter with Cappy in case Morrow & Company terminate their charter
with me! It will be all right if they terminate it while the vessel is
in San Francisco; but if she's very far from home I'll most certainly be
eaten alive while I'm getting her back to Cappy!”
He returned to his office and went into a long executive session with
himself, from which he aroused presently and went down to the dock where
the cargo was pouring into the hold of the Tillicum. Here he consulted
with the captain and the purser, and obtained a list of all persons,
firms or corporations which had furnished supplies of any kind to the
deck department of the steamer. From the chief engineer he procured
a similar list of those who had furnished supplies to the engine
department; and, armed with this information, he returned to his office
and dictated the following form letter:
Gentlemen:--Please take notice that we as charterers of the
steamer Tillicum from the Blue Star Navigation Company, and as
recharterers to Messrs. G. H. Morrow & Company, will not be
responsible for the payment to you of any bills for supplies or
stores, of any nature whatsoever, furnished to the said steamer
Tillicum since she has been under charter to said G. H. Morrow
& Company. Any bills contracted with you by G. H. Morrow &
Company for account of the Tillicum must be paid to you by
G. H. Morrow & Company. This notice is hereby given you in order
that we may go on record as disclaiming any responsibility as
charterers prior to the departure of the said steamer Tillicum
on her next voyage.
Yours very truly,
PACIFIC SHIPPING COMPANY,
By Matthew Peasley, President.
A copy of this letter Matt sent by registered mail, with a request for
a return registry receipt, to each of the creditors of the Tillicum of
whom he could get track. He had all the receipts in hand by the
last mail delivery the next day, and at eight o'clock that night the
Tillicum, having cleared the customs the same afternoon, departed for
Panama. Two days later Matt again called on Morrow & Company for the
money due him and, after much argument, succeeded in getting it. He
hastened at once to the bank on which it was drawn and asked the paying
teller to certify it. This the latter declined to do--neither would he
cash the check; so Matt took it back to Kelton.
“Kelton,” he said, “the bank will not honor your check.”
Kelton looked desperate.
“Confound you!” he growled. “I stalled you until five minutes before the
bank closed, thinking you would deposit it in your own bank to-morrow
morning and I'd have a deposit to cover it by that time. It will be all
right first thing in the morning, Peasley.”
“It had better be!” Matt told him bluntly. “Your charter provides for
cancellation in the event that payments are not made as stipulated, and
I'm not in a position to carry you or to take any chances on you--and
I'm not going to.”
“I can't blame you a bit,” Kelton answered regretfully. “I tell you,
with the money market as tight as it is, we're beating the devil
round the stump these days. Confound it, Peasley, a man has to do some
scheming and stalling when everybody is crowding him for money, doesn't
he?”
The check was not paid when Matt presented it the next morning. As he
came out of the bank a newsboy, crying his daily sensation, accosted him
with the first afternoon edition, and Matt's glance caught a smear of
red ink seven columns wide across the front page:
SHIPPING MAN A SUICIDE!
It was Morrow!
For about a minute Matt Peasley stood on the corner, doing some of the
fastest thinking he had ever done. Morrow had taken a short cut out
of his financial worries, and Matt realized that the tragedy would
undoubtedly bring an avalanche of creditors down on the unhappy Kelton
and ruin the firm. At any rate, the concern would doubtless go into the
hands of a receiver, and Matt Peasley might or might not hope for his
in the sweet by and by, according to the amount of salvage reported. The
Tillicum was seventy-six hours at sea!
“Matthew,” Matt Peasley murmured to himself, “'theirs not to reason why,
theirs but to do and die'--and all in one thundering big hurry!”