CHAPTER VII
Quits!
"Take these men to the sick-bay," ordered the officer of the watch; "they both look pretty well knocked up. Semaphore the convoy and report that the men have been picked up. We'll see what's to be done with them later on."
After divisions the Commander reported the circumstances to the Captain. The latter, being a chartered humorist, signalled No. 99 to the effect that when boat-lowering practice was again resorted to it would be advisable to provide ring-bolts and securing lashings to prevent the soldiers falling overboard; meanwhile he would make sure of the two he had picked up by keeping them on board the Gosport until her arrival at Port Stanley with the transport under her charge.
Thus Sergeant Malcolm Carr found himself an honorary member of the C.P.O.'s mess on board the Gosport, one of the earlier type of "town" cruisers detailed for convoying duties in the South Pacific.
Malcolm thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of being on board a war-ship. What struck him most was the good order and discipline that prevailed; everything was "carried out at the double", yet there was a total absence of unnecessary noise. Compared with the somewhat boisterous conditions obtaining on board Transport 99, the Gosport was a floating model of smartness and efficiency.
"Do you know anything about a kangaroo, Sergeant?" enquired a burly armourer's mate.
It was Thursday--"make and mend" afternoon. The ship's company was allowed a period of comparative relaxation. Being fine weather, most of the "I watch below" were on deck, sunning themselves upon the raised fo'c'sle.
"A kangaroo?" repeated Malcolm cautiously, half suspecting that the man was trying to "pull his leg".
"Yes," replied the other, a proper kangaroo. "You ought to know a lot about them, since they come from down your way."