“Who is it?”
“Jerry Clayton. He was at the Point before your time.”
“The name’s familiar. What’s he going to do here?”
“Well, this is just between us, Barkison, but I suspect....” The Colonel lowered his voice and Hodges looked out the window.
The staff car drove up to a long building, rather complicated-looking because of its many wings. Hodges opened the door and they got out.
“I’ll see you later, Hodges,” said Barkison. “I’ve got to go in and see the old man. You’ll be over at the club for supper, won’t you?”
“Yes, sir. I’m going over there right now.”
“I’ll see you then.” Barkison and the Colonel walked down a long dimly lit corridor to a door marked Commanding General.
Hodges went to his own office. This was a large room which he shared with three clerks and two Lieutenants. Only one of the Lieutenants was in the room when Hodges entered.
“Well, what do you know, here’s the boy again,” said the Lieutenant, grinning and shaking hands. “You don’t look so bad. A little pale, but nothing that a dose of raisin jack won’t cure.”