"Overdone," said Dr. Trendon, with some irritation. "Cost you something in strength. Foolish performance. Turn in now."
Slade tried to protest, but the surgeon would not hear of it, and marched him incontinently to his berth. Returning, Trendon reported, with growls of discontent, that his patient was in a fever.
"Couldn't expect anything else," he fumed. "Pack of human interrogation points hounding him all over the place."
"What do you think of his story?" asked Forsythe.
The grizzled surgeon drew out a cigar, lighted it, took three deliberate puffs, turned it about, examined the ash end with concentration, and replied:
"Man's telling a straight story."
"You think it's all true?" cried Forsythe.
"Humph!" grunted the other. "He thinks it's all true."
An orderly appeared and knocked at the captain's cabin.
"Beg pardon, sir," they heard him say. "Mr. Carter would like to know how close in to run. Volcano's acting up pretty bad, sir."