od cry. But he
had been brought up to believe that such emotion was foolish, whereas it
is often the highest wisdom.

"What is your job here?" he asked after the drinks had arrived.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I'm in a state of suspended animation,"
answered the other, who had been a commander in tramp steamers for some
years. And he began to tell his story. He had joined up in the usual
way, and after knocking about in a shore job in the Bristol Channel,
some brilliant creature hit on the idea of sending him out to Saloniki
to act as harbour master. They needed one, too, he observed in
parentheses; an experienced man to straighten things out. Very good. He
arrived.

"And what do I find but I am to take my orders from a sub-lieutenant R.
N. who's about the age of my second boy who was killed at Mons, a cocky
young fellow who knows just as much about running a harbour master's
office as I do about painting pictures! Well, I went to the captain of
the Base and I told him as plain as I could, I simply didn't see my way
to do it. I couldn't, Mister! I went in to see this young lordship one
day on some business, and he kept me waiting half an hour while he was
telephoning about a girl he'd met. I told the Captain of the Base I
really would have to go home. You know the saying: Standing rigging
makes poor running gear. And now," he concluded with a quiet smile, "I
believe I've refused duty or something. I do wish I could get a ship
again. This waiting about is awful. But my owners have had so many
losses, I can't expect a command for a long time even if I could get out
of this." And he touched the lace on his sleeve. "These navy people are
all right in their own line of trade, I suppose, but they don't seem to
understand our troubles at all. They say the most curious things."

"How do you mean?"

"Why," said the old fellow in a whisper, "we had a lot of ships in dock
last week or so, so many that the anchors got fouled. One ship would
drop her anchor across another's cable, you see. Well, one captain sent
in a report he could not get his anchors up and in consequence he'd be
delayed getting out. What I wanted to do, what I was going to do, was to
move the other ships and give him room. If necessary, some of them could
go out and round the breakwater, you understand. But my young lordship,
this sub-lieutenant, says, 'Can't he slip his anchors?' in that tone of
voice that they use trying to make you feel as though you wer