"There'll be no war with Germany," declared the Moke with a firm conviction based upon his father's views upon the subject. "Germany is our very best friend at the present day."
"A good many fools think that," said Holcombe bluntly. "Those are the fellows who would barter our naval supremacy for the sake of a paltry six or eight millions a year."
"You talk as if you were a millionaire yourself," remarked Sylvester, with thinly veiled sarcasm. "Of course the navy's your firm that is to be. You're only a cadet yet, Holcombe, an' don't you forget it. What's the use of an expensive navy when disputes can be settled by arbitration?"
"Arbitration!" snorted Slogger. "What's the use of arbitration? It's all right for little nations when the big ones are on the spot to keep order. I guess Holcombe's right. There'll be a most unholy scrap some day between England and Germany, and we'll all have to chip in—every man-jack of us."
"Think so?" inquired Holcombe with professional jealousy. "The navy'll manage the business properly, and you civilian chaps can stop at home and thank your lucky stars there is a navy."
"Of course we'll return grateful thanks," agreed Farrar; "but all the same, the navy won't be able to see the business through without the assistance of the Naval Reserve and all that jolly crowd, you know. So it's just possible, my dear Holcombe, that you and I may be in the same scrap. Before that comes off I want to work in that trip to the Baltic this summer, so don't induce the Government to declare war just at present, will you, old sport?"
Half seriously, half in jest, the trio continued the discussion, unconscious of the fact that the subject was the shadow cast by coming events.