The nurses, trained in the art of immobility in the face of all circumstances, were now helpless victims of fits of laughter that had literally doubled them in two.
“You’ll pay dearly for this, my good man,” the lieutenant warned menacingly. “I’ll have you court-martialed; I’ll have you put behind bars—I’ll have you shot!”
“In the arm?” the Marine retorted tantalizingly.
“Through the heart!” bellowed the little man who was completely devoid of a sense of humor; “through the heart by a military squad at sunrise!”
“You’ll have to make it later than that, Shorty; I don’t get up so early,” the sergeant shouted as the doctor scrambled through the water to the opposite shore, soon disappearing out of sight.
“You’ve ruffled his dignity disgracefully,” said Elinor, among the nurses who had applied for active duty in Nicaragua and now passengers of the ill-fated truck, stuck in the river bed.
“I guess I ruffled more than that!”
“But can’t he make it unpleasant for you?” she asked. “After all, he is a commissioned officer.”
The Marine yawned in a bored fashion and lighted a cigarette he had just rolled. “I suppose so. He’ll have me court-martialed and I’ll be fined six months’ pay, then slapped into the brig for a spell, but then, anything for a laugh, you know!”
“Won’t you mind?” she asked, astonished over his indifference.