‘I don’t know about that. That picket-boat job I had yesterday wasn’t much of a joke.’
A signalman came through the screen door and approached the Commander, who was conferring with the Boatswain on the other side of the quarter-deck.
‘Signal, sir,’ he reported.
The Commander looked round impatiently.
‘Well, what is it? Read it out.’
‘Flag, General, sir. From two to three p.m. Colours will be ’alf mast owing to the loss of Submarine “159.”’
‘All right. Show it to the Officer of the Watch. Now, about that new manilla, Mr Bostock....’
The signalman saluted and carried on.
THE BOGIE-MAN
I