The King's Messenger looked up. "Hallo!" he retorted. Then came recognition. "Thorogood, surely! Come in, old lad. What are you doing aboard the lugger— D'you know Standish?"
The new-comer nodded a greeting, acknowledging the introduction.
"Station-mates in the East Indies, weren't we?" said Standish.
"That's right," replied the other. "I remember you: we were both in camp together—way back in the 'Naughty Naughts.' We used to call you the India-rubber Man—Bunje for short."
Standish laughed. "They do still," he said, "mine own familiar friends."
"Have a drop of whisky," interrupted the King's Messenger. "'Fraid I haven't got a glass——"
The visitor hesitated. "Well, I've got old Mouldy Jakes in my compartment. Can I bring him along: the old thing may get lonely. He was in your term in the Britannia, wasn't he?"
"He was. Fetch him along," said the King's Messenger. "Standish wants to know all about life in the Grand Fleet. You two ought to be able to enlighten him a bit between you."
Thorogood contemplated the India-rubber Man thoughtfully.
"Just joining up? Mouldy and I have been there since January, '15—I'll fetch him."