"All right, Reblong," was the way it came, from the official
who punched his time-card. And Reblong, with Smith making eager use
of his eyes, went directly through a hatch in the side of the great
ship, and thence down a corridor to his engine-room.
Smith got little opportunity to study the machinery. Reblong gave
the place a single sweeping glance, then strode to a short,
black-bearded chap who stood near the instrument board.
"Everything as usual, my friend?" He had a pleasant voice, as Smith
learned for the first time.
"Yes--as usual!" The man's voice was bitter. "That's just what's
wrong! There's never any improvement; it's always--as usual! Say,
Reblong; no offense, but I think we are fools to put up with what we
are given!"
Smith's man complacently seated himself in front of the instruments.
"Personally, I think we are mighty lucky, instead of foolish."
"Lucky!" The other man snorted. "I wish Ernol could hear you say
that! He'd have a fit!"
Reblong was not at all disturbed.
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