“Who does the old man want to see?” inquired Sally, who, with Hopeton and Booth, happened to be passing.
“The chaplain,” snapped the M. O., going on his way.
“The chaplain? By Jove, he's a queer one, eh?”
The M. O. turned sharply back, and coming very close to Sally, said in a wrathful voice:
“A queer one? Yes, a queer one! But if some of you damned young idiots that sniff at him had just half his guts, you'd be twice the men you are.—Shut up, Hopeton! Listen to me—” and in words of fiery rage that ran close to tears, he recounted his experience of the last hour.
“By Jove! Doc, some guts, eh?” said Sally in a low tone, as he moved away.
CHAPTER IX
SUBMARINES, BULLPUPS, AND OTHER THINGS
A long, weird blast from the fog horn, followed by two short, sharp toots, recalled Barry from his morning dream.