Less than an hour later Thurlow's nurses left the ship and the cadets said good-by to the mother-of-many, a flowery, long-winded business in which Oscar let himself be trapped into promising to return some day. But at last he closed the outer door and Tex clamped" it. "Are you sure they understand how to keep clear of our blast?" asked Matt.
"I paced off the safety line with her myself and heard her give the orders. Quit worrying and get to your station."
"Aye aye, sir."
Matt and Oscar went forward, Oscar with the ancient log tucked in his sling. Tex took station at the hand throttles. Oscar sat down in the co-pilot's chair and opened the log to the page of the last entry. He took a stub of pencil
that he had found in the galley, wet it in his mouth, entered the date, and wrote in a large hand:
He paused and said to Matt, "I still think we ought to shift the command."
"Stow it," said Matt. "If Commodore Arkwright can command the Randolph with his lights gone, you can command the Tart with a busted wing."
"Okay, if that's the way you want it." He continued to write,
O. Jensen, acting captain
M. Dodson, pilot and astrogator