Stan said nothing. He could not trust himself to speak. What he wanted to do was to lay a right on Garret's jaw.
"You fellows better walk pretty straight from now on. And keep yourself looking like officers," Garret barked.
Without bothering to fill in a report, O'Malley shoved off to the mess room. Allison filled out his report and Stan made his out. They reported the exact action and the results. They left Garret scowling at their cards.
"Wilson!" Garret called sharply as Stan started to walk away at Allison's side. "I want a word with you, alone."
Stan turned back and stood at the desk. His gaze locked with Garret's.
"Have you ever flown stunts or test jobs in the United States?" He leaned forward and his small eyes searched Stan's face.
Stan returned his stare. "You have my card where you can dig it out. Suppose you take a look at it?" Stan turned on his heel and walked away.
Garret let him go without asking any more questions, but he was shaking his head and frowning as though trying to remember something or somebody that had slipped his mind.
"He's about got my number," Stan muttered to himself as he went into the mess.