This time, Valerie had to turn and stare at him in astonishment. He looked down at her as he reeled in the line and gave her a smile that revealed gold-capped teeth.
"What's the matter, beautiful? Wouldn't I make a good candidate? I got a platform already. No red tape. No promises. And no taxes. Just do as I say and we'll all get along."
"Obviously," said Uncle Andy, "that's a brand of politics that belongs to gangsters. What can you possibly hope to gain even if you are the Boss of this outfit?"
The hook came in empty, so Weston threw the pole down on the rock. He faced Uncle Andy and gave him that twany-eyed, brooding look of his. "I got this to gain," he said. "None of us knows what's gonna happen. Maybe our chances of gettin' back to civilization are slim. But if things get tough I ain't going to be breakin' my back under nobody else's whip. I don't go for this gold braid and paper baloney. I think half the camp is made up of a helpless mess of blubber as far as men go. Of course, as far as the women go we don't mind them bein' helpless! We'll take care of them, but first they gotta come down off their pedestals and get some sense into 'em!" He and all his men looked at Valerie. "We might never get back home," he said, pointedly, "and in that case things have got to be a lot different around here. And me and my boys have just got the guts to make the necessary changes!"
Uncle Andy stiffened, but he held his temper. "Tommy," he said, "what is it you want? How does this visit of yours apply to the meeting tonight?"
"We're going to force the issue on voting in a new leader. I'll be a candidate. If you know what's good for you, you'll vote for me!"
Uncle Andy wanted to ask him why they should vote at all as long as Weston had decided how the voting was going to go, but instead he said, "How about giving us time to consider it? Until tonight."
"Sure! Just so you decide by tonight. You can't vote before then!"
"Yeah but what about the dame?" Whitey blurted out. "You know what you said."