"A nail in my shoe hurts me," lied the other, glibly, sinking into a
chair. "Benson, I reckon I'll sit here a few minutes. Then I'll get to
my room and call a bell-boy, to see if he can find some one to fix the
shoe."
"Too bad," murmured Jack. "But say, I'll go back to the corner, and
tell Hal, so he won't be standing on the corner all night."
With that Jack Benson walked briskly out. Up at the next corner,
however, instead of finding Hal, the young skipper was accosted by two
sailors in United States naval uniform.
"I reckon your name's Benson, messmate?" hailed one of the pair.
"I reckon it is," nodded Jack, looking sharply at them.
"Got a bit of bad news for you, then," added the first speaker. "It
ain't so awful bad, though. One of your friends--Winter, I think his
name was--"
"No; Somers," corrected the other sailor.
"Well, he saw a row going on, and he had to run down the street and get
into it. Too many fellers in the fight, and Winter--"
"Somers," interposed the second sailor.
"Yes; that was it. Somers got pretty badly used up.
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