As a matter of fact the Orphan was rather taken aback, and though he did his best to look frightfully happy, it was not an absolute success.
The Sub altered his voice. "Look here. Those confounded trawler fellows have done their job two days running, under heavy shell-fire, whilst we've been behind armour. It's time we showed them the way—understand? It's our turn to-night, yours and mine."
"I'm all right," the Orphan said. "It was rather a startler, that's all. I'd been getting up a sing-song, and we were going to court martial the China Doll."
"Warn your boat's crew," the Sub continued, perfectly satisfied and absolutely happy. "Tell 'em to take some grub."
"How about old Fletcher?" the Orphan asked. "He's rather old for the job."
"You know him best. Sound him. Off you go!"
So Fletcher was sent for and told all that was going to happen.
"If you'd rather a younger man——" the Orphan began, not knowing how to best say what he meant.
"Me, sir! Don't leave me behind. I'm as strong as a horse," the old stoker broke in.
"Right oh! The boat will be 'turned out' about six-thirty. Don't forget to bring some grub."