"My father is a food wholesaler, sir."
"I thought so." The Captain continued to look at him for a moment, then turned to Matt. "Now, Mister, what is the idea of the masquerade? You look like a refugee from an emigrant ship."
Matt tried to explain; Yancey cut him short. "I'm not interested in excuses. I keep a taut ship. Remember that."
"Aye aye, sir."
The Captain settled back and struck a cigarette. "Now, gentlemen, you are no doubt wondering as to why I sent for you. I must admit to a slight curiosity as to the sort of product the old school is turning out. In my day, it was a real course of sprouts and no nonsense about it. But now I understand that the psychologists have taken over and the old rules are all changed."
He leaned forward and fixed Matt with his eyes. "They aren't changed here, gentlemen. In my ship, the old rules still obtain."
No one answered. Yancey waited, then went on, "The regulations state that you shall pay a social call on your commanding officer within twenty-four hours after reporting to a new ship or station. Please consider that the social call has commenced. Sit down, gentlemen. Mr. Dodson, you will find coffee over there on your left. Will you please favour me by pouring it?"
Forty minutes later they left, feeling quite confused. Yanny had demonstrated that he could put them most charmingly at their ease and had displayed a dry, warm wit and a gift for telling anecdotes. Matt decided that he liked him.
But just as they left Yancey glanced at his clock and laid, "I'll see you later, Mr. Dodson-in fifteen minutes."
Once they were outside Tex demanded, "What's he want to see you for, Matt?"