“Why, we couldn’t go without him, could we?” Stan asked.
“The Navy doesn’t wait around for an officer to get over appendicitis,” Larry said. “We’re scheduled to pull out of here at dawn day after tomorrow morning, and that’s when we’ll pull out, with or without Ray Corvin.”
“What about his family?” March asked. “Didn’t he say he lived near here?”
“Sure—about fifty miles away,” the Skipper replied. “He had just phoned them before he got this attack. I had to tell them he couldn’t come down as he’d planned. I got in touch with the Commandant here and he has sent a car down there for Ray’s wife and daughter. They’ll see him at the hospital.”
In the morning they learned that Corvin’s appendix had burst and he had been operated on. Larry Gray had spent a good part of the night at the hospital.
“He’ll pull through all right,” he said wearily. “But it will be weeks before he’s up and around. We’re really lucky, I guess, that it didn’t happen when we were at sea. If it had to happen, it couldn’t have timed itself better. In port near a hospital—and not far from Ray’s home. He can go there to convalesce.”
“What about us?” Stan asked. “It’s a shame we can’t have him with us. He’s a swell guy.”
“And a fine officer,” Gray said. “He ought to have a command of his own, really. Well, I’m not sure what we’ll do. The Navy can probably find us another officer in a hurry if we demand it, though it’s not easy to find a good sub man just like that who isn’t already occupied.”
He shook his head as he turned to his quarters. “I’m not sure just what we’ll do,” he said, “except that we’ll get under way on schedule.”
At the door, he stopped. “March, will you and Stan help Mac oversee the loading? I’ve got to have a little rest.”