“Yes, sir.”
“Bring me the report.”
Sticking on a pair of spectacles Blackburn glanced over the slip of paper.
“Too bad,” he said. “You’re unfit. Sergeant, mark off M. Bard as unfit for service.”
“But I’m all right,” expostulated Mauney.
“No you’re not, boy.”
“Yes, I am.”
Blackburn stiffened up.
“Do you realize to whom you’re talking?” he snapped.
A sergeant walked quickly forward and tapped Mauney’s knuckles with his stick.