"Not necessarily," snaps Auntie. "I don't in the least see why we
should, I'm sure."
"Certainly we do," corrects Old Hickory. "But, as Mrs. Hemmingway
observes, we dislike to be shot at."
"Even though you couldn't hit us," adds Auntie.
The officer grins.
"Oh, our gunners aren't as bad as that," says he. "We were merely
shooting across your bows, you know. I am Lieutenant Commander
Faulhaber, and it is part of my duty to overhaul and inspect any
suspicious acting craft."
"Why didn't you do it last night, then?" demands Auntie.
"Because we blew out a cylinder gasket," says he. "The _Petrel_ isn't
a new boat, by any means, and hardly in first-class shape. But we
managed to patch her up, you see."
"Humph!" says Auntie.
Honest, I was almost sorry for that naval gent before she got through
with him, for she sure did state her opinion, free and forcible, of his
holdin' us up this way. He stands and takes it, too, until she's all
through.
"Sorry you feel that way about it," says he, "but I shall be obliged to
make a thorough search of this boat, nevertheless. Also I shall
require an explanation as to why you disregarded my wireless orders.
Unless you can satisfy me that--"
It's about there this cheery hail comes from J.
Pages:
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211