But the two sailors came along, talking earnestly, and did
not appear to see young Hastings, who stood in close to the wall.
"When I first seen him fall," one of the sailors was saying, "I mistook
him for a Navy officer. He was pretty young, but the uniform fooled me."
"He had the uniform, all right but no signs of rank on it," nodded the
other sailor, thoughtfully. "Was he much hurt?"
"Oh, it won't kill him," replied the first sailor. "But--"
"I beg your pardon," interposed Hal, springing in front of the pair.
"It has just struck me that you are speaking of a comrade of mine."
"Well, he had a uniform on, just like your'n, replied the first sailor,
looking Hal Hastings over quickly.
"Only the young feller we're talkin' about has red hair," added the
second.
"What has happened to him?" demanded Hal, a feeling of alarm sweeping
over him.
"Oh, he got in a little fight--that's all," responded the first sailor.
"Bit off a little bit bigger chunk of fight than he could handle. He's
kinder dazed and silly, now, and talkin' about queer things.
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