If any legitimate excuse had offered he would have done
so. To find the man apparently at home on the boat in which he himself
was taking brief passage was a coincidence of which Thompson proceeded
to take immediate advantage. He climbed into the cockpit. The man looked
at him questioningly.
"I'm going across the Inlet with Mr. Ashe," Thompson explained. "Are you
on the _Alert_?"
"Engineer, skipper, and bo'sun too," the man responded whimsically.
"Cook, captain, and the whole damn crew."
They fell into talk. The man was intelligent, but there was a queer
abstraction sometimes in his manner. Once the motor of a near-by craft
fired with a staccato roar, and he jumped violently. He looked at
Thompson unsmiling.
"I'm pretty jumpy yet," he said--but he did not explain why. He did not
say he had been overseas. He did not mention the war. He talked of the
coast, and timber, and fishing, and the adjacent islands, with all of
which he seemed to be fairly familiar.
"I heard that recruiting sergeant tackle you this morning," Thompson
said at last. "You were standing almost beside my machine. What was it
like over there?"
"What was it like?" the man repeated. He shook his head.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293