But the two men had small acquaintance with the methods of young Mr. Valentine. Without letting go his purpose, he had appeared to give way, because he shrunk from pitting his will against this masterful Port Captain, who made him feel like a house of cards in a big wind. It was not inconceivable that this overbearing old monster might lay him across his knee and spank him in the white heat of a dispute. When he heard the two veterans depart, the new-fledged owner turned to his stenographer:
"Please take a letter to Captain Kendrick and mail it to catch him at New Orleans. I don't want him storming in here to-day."
The gray hair of the stenographer had been a bonny brown when she entered the employ of the Palmetto Line. As her pencil chased his words down the pages of her notebook, she glanced up with undisguised amazement, and dared to comment when her task was done:
"Please pardon me, but are you sure you mean Captain Kendrick of the Suwannee? You see, I have sailed with
