Mauney passed his physical examination and was led into a second room. He noticed that none of the others had been taken there. Behind a desk sat a young, clear-faced man with bone-rimmed spectacles, engaged in looking through a pile of documents.
“Doctor Poynton,” said the sergeant, who brought him in, “would you report on this recruit’s vision. The M.O. just sent him in.”
“All right,” nodded the doctor, as the sergeant went out.
For fully five minutes Mauney stood motionless, waiting for the eye-examination to commence, while the doctor continued reading the documents before him and idly smoking a cigar. When his impatience had nearly gotten the better of him and he felt tempted to remind the medical man of his presence, the latter turned in his chair and placed a stool on the floor a few feet from his desk.
“Sit down there!” he said in a distant tone, without looking at Mauney, who obeyed and awaited further instructions.
Doctor Poynton threw away the butt of his cigar and, opening a drawer, selected another from a box. This he lighted and blew out the match, meanwhile continuing uninterruptedly in his reading of the documents.
Mauney, greatly elated at the success of his physical examination, found his present occupation of waiting greatly to his dislike. Why should they examine his eyes? He had never had any trouble with them. He controlled his impatience, however, as best he could, until, after many minutes, the doctor looked up.
“Now, then,” he said. “Look at that card on the wall over yonder. Can you see the letters?”
“Yes.”