The last voyager had embarked. The deck was full to congestion.
"They'll be sending us ashore in a minute," said Jimmy. "I'd better be moving. Let me know how you're making out, Spike, from time to time. You know the address. And, say, it's just possible you may find you want a dollar or two every now and then—when you're going to buy another automobile, for instance. Well, you know where to write for it, don't you?"
"T'anks, boss. But dat'll be all right. I'm goin' to sit in at anodder game dis time. Politics, boss. A fr'en' of a mug what I knows has got a pull. He'll find me a job!"
"Politics! " said Jimmy. "I never thought of that. 'My brother Dan is an alderman with a grip on the Seventh Ward!'" he quoted, softly. "Why, you'll be a boss before you know where you are."
"Sure," said Spike, grinning modestly.
"You ought to be a thundering success in politics," said Jimmy. "You've got all the necessary qualities."
A steward passed.
"Any more for the shore?"
"Well, Spike—" said Jimmy.
"Good-bye, boss."
"Good-bye," said Jimmy. "And good luck."
