TUGBOAT ANNIE AND THE CHEAPSKATE.

There was something fishy about a cheapskate cutting rates to get a salvage job--and Annie put her life savings on the (tow) line to prove it.

It was a blustery spring day, with the white-flecked waters of the Puget Sound port of Secoma patterned by cold sunshine and the shadows of fast-moving rain clouds and the air alive with the high, wild piping of gulls. But in the private office of Alec Severn, the plump and amicable little owner of the Deep-Sea Towing and Salvage Company, the atmosphere was heavy as he sat behind his desk and stared morosely at the weather-beaten, mastiff face of his senior skipper, Tugboat Annie Brennan.

"Well, that's the jam I'm in," he said unhappily. "And there's not a cussed thing I can do without outside help."

"But, Alec, all yer tugs has been workin', an' fer months me own Narcissus was haulin' big supply barges up to them new arctic bases," Annie protested. "Gov'ment contracks pays good, an'--"

"That work has slacked off now!" he said irritably. "You know that! And as a result of being in constant service, my whole tug fleet needs a complete overhaul. But I just can't swing it."

"So along comes this San Francisco feller, Bulger--"

"Bolzer, Annie! B-o-l-z-e-r! And he'll finance me, yes--provided he approves our operation methods."