THIS LITTLE BOOK IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MY DEAD CHIEF,BRIGADIER-GENERAL LEROY S. LYON, SOMETIME COMMANDER OF THE 65THFIELD ARTILLERY BRIGADE, 40TH DIVISION, UNITED STATES ARMY.
HE PRACTICED AND PREACHED A RELIGION OF LOYALTY TO THE COUNTRYAND THE APPOINTED TASK, WHATEVER IT MIGHT BE.
Mr. Alden P. Ricks, known in Pacific Coast wholesale lumber andshipping circles as Cappy Ricks, had more troubles than a hen withducklings. He remarked as much to Mr. Skinner, president andgeneral manager of the Ricks Logging & Lumbering Company, thecorporate entity which represented Cappy's vast lumber interests;and he fairly barked the information at Captain Matt Peasley, hisson-in-law and also president and manager of the Blue StarNavigation Company, another corporate entity which represented theRicks interest in the American mercantile marine.
Mr. Skinner received this information in silence. He was notrelated to Cappy Ricks. But Matt Peasley sat down, crossed his legsand matched glares with his mercurial father-in-law.
"You have troubles!" he jeered, with emphasis on thepronoun. "Have you got a misery in your back, or is Herbert Hooverthe wrong man for Secretary of Commerce?"
"Stow your sarcasm, young feller," Cappy shrilled. "You knowdad-blamed well it isn't a question of health or politics. It's thefact that in my old age I find myself totally surrounded by thechoicest aggregation of mental duds since Ajax defied thelightning."
"Meaning whom?"
"You and Skinner."
"Why, what have we done?"
"You argued me into taking on the management of twenty-five ofthose infernal Shipping Board freighters, and no sooner do we havethem allocated to us than a near panic hits the country, freightrates go to glory, marine engineers go on strike and every infernalyoung whelp we send out to take charge of one of our offices in theOrient promptly gets the swelled head and thinks he's divinelyordained to drink up all the synthetic Scotch whiskey manufacturedin Japan for the benefit of thirsty Americans. In my old age youtwo have forced us into the position of having to fire folks bycable. Why? Because we're breaking into a game that can't be playedon the home grounds. A lot of our business is so far away we can'tcontrol it."
Matt Peasley leveled an accusing finger at Cappy Ricks. "Wenever argued you into taking over the management of those ShippingBoard boats. We argued me into it. I'm the goat. You have nothingto do with it. You retired ten years ago. All the troubles in themarine end of this shop belong on my capable shoulders, oldsettler."
"Theoretically--yes. Actually--no. I hope you do not expect meto abandon mental as well as physical effort. Great Wampus Cats! AmI to be denied a sentimental interest in matters where I have acontrolling financial interest? I admit you two boys are running myaffairs and ordinarily you run them rather well, but--but--ahem!Harumph-h-h! What's the matter with you, Matt? And you, also,Skinner? If Matt makes a mistake, it's your job to remind him of itbefore the results manifest themselves, is it not? And vice versa.Have you two boobs lost your ability to judge men or did you everhave such ability?"
"You're referring to Henderson, of the Shanghai office, I daresay," Mr. Skinner cut in.
"I am, Skinner. And I'm here to remind you that if we'd stuck toour own game, which is coast-wise shipping, and had left thetrans-Pacific field with its general cargoes to others, we wouldn'thave any Shanghai office at this moment and we would not bepestered by the Hendersons of this world."
"He's the best lumber salesman we've eve