“Maybe you’ll see him out where you’re going,” his mother said.
“I doubt it very much,” March said. “Even though we did have a joke about how my submarine would probably have to save him from the Japs out there.”
When he finished talking to his mother, he decided he might as well try to find out if Scoot were still in town. He had probably arrived two or three weeks before. It wasn’t likely that he’d still be around, but sometimes men were held up that long.
“If Scoot were held up that long,” March said to himself, “he’d be just about crazy. I think he’d start swimming to get out to his carrier or plane or base or wherever he’ll be.”
March spent most of the afternoon trying to find out about Scoot. Each office said it didn’t have the information or couldn’t give it to him, until he finally reached the right place and learned that Scoot had left San Francisco by plane for his “destination” twelve days before.
He met Stan for dinner, after which they went to a movie. The Skipper had given them leave until a few hours before they were due to sail.
After the movie Stan and March went back to their ship to find that Ray Corvin had suddenly been taken sick. Just as they came up, the ambulance was taking him away to the Naval Hospital.
“Burst appendix, I think,” Gray said. “And if that’s it, I don’t know what we’ll do. I’m hoping it’s nothing more than an acute indigestion that’ll pass in a day or two. But Sallini felt sure it was the appendix and so did the doc that came. That’s why they rushed him right off to the hospital.”
“Anything we can do?” March asked.
“No, just keep your fingers crossed,” Gray said. “Ray’s a mighty good man to have aboard a submarine.”