As the medical officer
listened, he grinned, then laughed unrestrainedly.
"Mr. Benson, you're certainly ingenious!"
"Will you do what I've suggested?"
"Why, I--er--er--" Doctor McCrea hesitated. "I--well, I'll think it over."
Again Doctor McCrea roared with laughter.
CHAPTER XX: CONCLUSION
Sam Truax sat in the brig, between decks on the "Hudson," his scowling
face turned toward the barred door, when the marine guard, taking a turn,
peered in.
"Good heavens, man! What ails you?" demanded the marine.
"I'm all right," growled the prisoner.
"I'll be hanged if you look it."
"What are you talking about!" demanded the prisoner angrily.
"Man alive, I wish you could see your face!"
Three minutes later a sailor halted at the door, looked at Truax, then
wheeled about to the marine.
"Say, what ails that man? What's the matter with his face?"
"Don't know. Looks fearful, doesn't he?"
"Awful! Ought to have the doctor."
Sam shifted uneasily.
Five minutes later a sailor wearing on one sleeve the Red Cross of the
hospital squad came along.
"Say," said the marine, "I wish you'd look at the feller in the brig.
Pages:
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197