“Well, Smith,” said Hal, “it’s your bed. Hop in.”
The marine eyed the lad closely.
“First tell me who you are and what you are doing here,” he said.
In a few words Hal recounted the adventure he and Chester had gone through.
“Well,” said the marine, “I guess I don’t want that bed after all. You need it worse than I do. Help yourself. I’ll bunk on the floor here.”
“Oh, no,” was Hal’s reply. “The floor is plenty good enough for me. It’s your bed, you know.”
“True enough,” said Smith, “but at the same time, I’ve been out on a little frolic and don’t need it half as bad as you do. So you’re a lieutenant in the regulars, eh?”
“Right,” said Hal.
“Haven’t much to do yet, eh?”
“Oh, yes,” was Hal’s rejoinder. “You see, I put in almost three years in this war before Uncle Sam decided to get in.”