“Transferring?” he inquired.
Nelson looked around rather blankly. “Sir?”
The man smiled. “I asked if you were transferring. I see you have your bag with you.”
“No, sir, I’m rejoining my boat at Buzzard’s Bay.”
The other nodded, darting a swift glance at the boy’s cap ribbon. “Wanderer, eh? Patrol boat?”
“Yes, sir.” Nelson was, in turn, doing some looking, too, and there was something about his neighbor that suggested authority. Still it didn’t do to talk too freely. They had been plentifully warned against that.
“Been on liberty?” pursued the man.
“No, sir. Hospital.”
“Really? Nothing serious, I hope.”