“Sentry, unlock the door! Let me in there!”

Doctor McCrea made a brief examination.

“How long have you been feeling ill?”

“N-not long,” faltered Truax.

“Hospital man!” called Doctor McCrea.

“Aye, aye, sir!”

“Have the stretcher brought here at once.”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

The stretcher was brought, and the attendants put Truax on it.

“I can walk, Doctor,” he protested feebly.

“Can’t risk it! To the ’sick bay,’ men.”

“What’s wrong, Doctor?” Truax asked, when he was lifted from the stretcher
and placed in one of the berths.

“Don’t talk, my man. Just lie quietly and let us get you on your feet—if
we can,” he added under his breath, but not so softly but that Sam Truax
heard him.