“I'll be hanged if you look it.”
“What are you talking about!” demanded the prisoner angrily.
“Man alive, I wish you could see your face!”
Three minutes later a sailor halted at the door, looked at Truax, then wheeled about to the marine.
“Say, what ails that man? What's the matter with his face?”
“Don't know. Looks fearful, doesn't he?”
“Awful! Ought to have the doctor.”
Sam shifted uneasily.
Five minutes later a sailor wearing on one sleeve the Red Cross of the hospital squad came along.
“Say,” said the marine, “I wish you'd look at the feller in the brig.”