“No, sir.” The gentleman looked expectant of further details, but Nelson said no more. After a moment the former asked: “Who’s in command of the Wanderer?”
“Lieutenant Hattuck.”
“Hattuck, eh?” He seemed trying to recall something. Finally: “Yes, yes, of course. I thought I knew the name. Commanded the Andover in ’98. So he’s in the Reserve, is he? How large is your boat, the Wanderer?”
“Not very big,” answered Nelson, evasively. The other chuckled.
“You’re right, my boy, not to talk too much. I forget that—Hm, let me see.” He dipped into a pocket, drew forth a case and selected from it a card which he passed across. “Merely to reassure you,” he explained. Nelson accepted the bit of engraved cardboard in surprise, a surprise which increased when he read the name on it, the name of a man high in the Naval affairs of the nation.
“Excuse me, sir, I didn’t know——” began Nelson in some confusion.
“Naturally you wouldn’t,” laughed the other. “I’m not tagged, thank goodness! You see, I’ve been on liberty too,” he added smiling, “but not, I am glad to say, in hospital. I’ve been visiting my family for a week. And now, like you, I’m going back to duty.”
“Yes, sir,” murmured Nelson. As the Navy man made no offer to take his card back the boy held it in his hand, wondering what to do with it. “I guess there’s plenty to do in Washington just now, sir,” he hazarded.
The other nodded. “A terrific amount of work, yes. I felt guilty most of the time I was away; maybe I enjoyed my vacation more for that reason,” he added with his contagious chuckle. Nelson smiled in sympathy.
“It’s like playing hookey, sir,” he suggested.