“Oh, I say now–”
“Rats! Mullins, how would you handle him? He’s a cold fish, you know.”
Mullins gulped. He was not accustomed to having Cowan ask his opinion about anything. However, here was a golden opportunity.
“Cold or hot, I’d let that bird cool off a little more on the ground. He’s been joy-riding ever since we drew ships. We’ll go into action soon, don’t you think?”
“Doubtless.”
“Keep him out of the first patrol. He’ll come whining to you and he’ll sit up and be nice from then on.”
“Hum-m!” Cowan again bent over the maps.
“Anything else, Major?” McGee asked.
“No ... Yes, wait!” he called as McGee reached 132the door. “You have had a lot of combat experience, Lieutenant. I don’t mind telling you that the load of responsibility gets heavier as we approach action.” He turned away from the table, walked to the window, and stood gazing out into the utter blackness of the night. “I wonder,” he mused, his voice subdued, “if any of you truly appreciate the weight of the responsibility.”
Mullins glanced at McGee, wonderingly. Both were thinking the same thoughts. Here was a man, who, until the last forty-eight hours, had always been quite sufficient unto himself. Now a sudden change had come over him. One of two things was certain: either he was breaking, and would soon be taken from command for inefficiency; or he was a strong man indeed, strong enough to admit weaknesses, unblushingly seek aid, and make use of all available knowledge.