"Get the repairs done as soon
as possible; we stay here until you have finished what is necessary."
It looked like an evil moment for asking favors, but it was the time
laid down in Regulations when such things as favors may be had; and
it was the moment Curley Crothers had picked out for asking for
shore leave.
"Come 'ere, Scamp. Come along, Scamp. Come along 'ere--good boy!"
he coaxed, dragging by a short chain in his wake the sorriest-looking
bull terrier that ever acted mascot in the British or any other navy.
Courteous and huge and cap in hand, his weather-beaten face smiling
respectfully above a snow-white uniform, he took his stand before
the little table.
His outward bearing was one of certainty, but his shrewd, slightly
puckered eyes alternately conned the expression of his commander's
face and watched the dog.
The lee, scuppers were the goal of the dog's immediate ambition,
for he was a well-brought-up dog and such of the decencies as were
not his by instinct he had learned by painful and repeated acquisition.
But at the moment Curley Crothers showed a wondrous disregard for
etiquette.
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