"It doesn't seem like pap to me."
"That's politics. In a way it isn't. Two boys I was fond of are lying over there in France. I don't want to make any more shells. But I have to think of something else first. If I came from some other district, the case would be reversed. I'd like to change the tariff. But the industrials oppose me in that. So we compromise. Or we don't. I think I could put across a decent arms-limitation bill right now, for example, if I could get Willard Melcher out of town for a month."
"Melcher?"
"You know him, of course—at least, who he is. He spends the steel money here in Washington—to keep the building program going on. Simple thing to do. The Navy helps him. Tell the public about the Japanese menace, the English menace, all the other menaces, and the public coughs up for bigger guns and better ships. Run 'em till they rust and nobody ever really knows what good they could do."
"And Melcher does that?"
The Congressman chuckled. "His pay-roll would make your eyes bulge. But you can't touch him."
Hugo nodded thoughtfully. "Don't you think anyone around here works purely for an idea?"
"How's that? Oh—I understand. Sure. The cranks!" And his laughter ended the discussion.
Hugo began. He walked up the brick steps of Melcher's residence and pulled the glittering brass knob. A servant came to the door.
"Mr. Danner to see Mr. Melcher. Just a moment."