"What's the matter?" demanded Flavin.
"A dream I had is taking the count--eight, nine, ten, out! Say,
Flavin, did it ever occur to you that your duty included knowing
something about your business--who can vote, for instance, among a
thousand other things, and who can't?"
"The mistake you make and all you wise high-brows make, Carlin"--and
the Honorable Flavin fixed him with a knowing eye--"is in thinking I
don't know my job. My job ain't in being in Congress. A hell of a lot
they'll know at home what I'm doing in Washin'ton after I get there.
My job is being elected to Congress. And getting elected means to be
able to get votes, and getting votes means being with the people who'll
give you the votes. And your paymaster friend"--the Honorable Flavin
favored Carlin with a wink and another knowing smile--"and his push,
they don't swing any votes. But o' course that's for them. With you
it's different. Now, you being in Washin'ton with a string o'
newspapers--huh?"
Carlin had walked off.
"There he goes," muttered Flavin, "pluggin' the game of a lot of people
who can never do a thing for him."
Trench was shaking his head, half-sadly and half-smilingly, at Carlin.
He replaced Totten's letter on the pile on his desk. "One of the jokes
of the mess is to accuse me of having so much money that I could
publish my own books of foolish rhymes if I felt like it, but I haven't
enough to pay for that bale of blankets for Pay Totten. Aboard ship
Pay has just as much money as I have. But no matter--I'm one of those
who believe that nobody beats the game in the long run. The eternal
laws are against it. The people get everybody pretty near right in
time. And fellows like Pay will get what's due them some time. And
your congressional friend, too, I hope. But"--Trench stood up--"what
d'y'say, Carl, if we get out into the ward-room country again? It's
been a long watch since you and I clinked glasses together."
And outside, in the mess-room, standing almost under the air-port which
opened out to sea, Trench held his glass up to Carlin's, saying: "There
was a boson's mate I knew one time, named Cahalan. I used to absorb
most of my philosophy from him. I was on the bridge one night, and in
one of the wings was Cahalan and another lad of the watch. They were
evidently having an argument about something, and Cahalan was trying to
convince him. I couldn't hear what his watch-mate said, but from out
of the dark all at once I heard Cahalan. Said Cahalan: 'When a man
does a good job and gets rated up for it, he's a lucky geezer; when he
does a good job and don't get rated up for it, he mayn't be a lucky
geezer, but what th' hell, he's done a good job just the same, hasn't
he?' So, Carl, what d'y'say?--to Pay Totten, sailing lonesome through
the Trades--a poor politician, but a damn good officer!"