odelling of cheek and chin
curiously exaggerated by the black smears of grease, broke into a grim
smile as he spoke.

"Say, d'you know who I am, Mister?" he asked, and added, "I'll tell ye.
I'm the Thorn in the Flesh," and he disappeared into the bathroom,
whence came the rumble of water being boiled up by steam. Mr. Spokesly's
eyes returned to the burly gentleman who was regarding him with
amusement. Mr. Spokesly threw up his hands.

"Well," he said, looking stonily at nothing, "there it is. I was told to
get it fixed, an'----"

"Fix it then," said the chief quietly. Mr. Spokesly almost bridled.

"Not my work," he muttered.

"Oh, I see; it's mine, you mean!" surmised the other in a tone, of
assumed enlightenment.

"It's engineer's work," said Mr. Spokesly irritably. The chief made no
reply for a moment, merely studying Mr. Spokesly intently.

"See here, Mister," he began, and reached out a huge hand to close the
door. "See here, Mister, you're under a misapprehension. Now I'll tell
you the whole trouble. You heard Mr. Tolleshunt just now. D'ye know what
he meant when he said he was the Thorn in the Flesh? It's a joke of ours
in the mess room. He meant your flesh. And the reason for that is that
you men up on the bridge are in a false position. Ye have executive
power without knowledge. Ye command a ship and what do ye know about a
ship? To whom do ye come for help, whether it is steering or driving or
discharging or salving or anything? You want the same consideration and
power that you have on a sailing-ship, where you know all about the gear
and make out yourselves. Here, you just have to stand by while we do it.
And on top o' that, you come down here with your silly damn breakages
and expect us to be tinkers as well. You think Mr. Tolleshunt is sadly
deficient in respect, I dare say. But what of his side o' the question?
He's been up all night and all morning on a breakdown. So's the second,
who's still at it. So have I, for that matter. We've all three of us got
just as good tickets as you. Ye never heard about it? Of course not.
What could ye do for us? When ye've pulled that handle on the bridge and
heard the gong answer, you're finished! Ye're in charge of a box of
mechanism of which ye know nothing. Ye walk about in uniform and talk
big about yer work, and what does it all amount to? Ye're a young man,
and I'm, well, not so young, and I tell ye friendly, Mister, ye're a
joke. Ye're what the newspapers c