They made room for him on the bench.
“Well, I'm confined to barracks,” said Dan Cohan. “Look at me!” He laughed and gave his head a curious swift jerk to one side. “Compree?”
“Ain't ye scared they'll nab you?” said Fuselli.
“Nab me, hell, they can't do nothin' to me. I've had three court-martials already and they're gettin' a fourth up on me.”
Dan Cohan pushed his head to one side and laughed. “I got a friend. My old boss is captain, and he's goin' to fix it up. I used to alley around politics chez moy. Compree?”
The champagne came and Dan Cohan popped the cork up to the ceiling with dexterous red fingers.
“I was just wondering who was going to give me a drink,” he said. “Ain't had any pay since Christ was a corporal. I've forgotten what it looks like.”
The champagne fizzed into the beer-glasses.
“This is the life,” said Fuselli.
“Ye're damn right, buddy, if yer don't let them ride yer,” said Dan.