O’Malley grinned happily and saluted the Wing Commander. He had not taken the trouble to get to his feet. Farrell returned the salute without so much as the twitch of a facial muscle.
“We’ll be ready, sir.” Stan stood at attention.
The Wing Commander walked away and Stan scowled down at his pal. “A fine officer you are.”
“Naval action, and my turn comin’ up,” O’Malley gloated.
An orderly called Stan to the telephone. When he returned he was smiling.
“Allison will make it. He won’t be laid up very long.”
“Hooray!” O’Malley shouted and leaped into the air. He headed straight across the room toward the counter. The corporal saw him coming and slid an apple pie off the shelf.
CHAPTER VII
SALT WATER SPRAY
The Wing Commander seemed bent upon saving the Hendee Hawk for some special show. For two days no call came for Stan and O’Malley. They lounged about, with O’Malley getting as restless as a panther and twice as grouchy. They went over to see Allison and found him sitting up. He would be out in a very short time.