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The officer stared at him as Stan turned and barged out of the little office where the Navy had left him. News of a big air push made it necessary for him to get into action at once. He had to report his information in time to halt the operations, or catch Egbert Minter before he reported to Berlin. Getting a report to his own flight commander seemed the quickest way.
They found him in the mess looking very dour and gloomy. He was alone. None of the other men seemed to care about trying to cheer him up. Stan and O'Malley barged over to his table. "May we sit down, sir?" Stan asked. "Sure." Holt motioned to two chairs. The boys sat down. Stan ordered coffee and O'Malley ordered pie.
He performed a brief but very perfect double shuffle on the top step while waiting for the door to open, and then barged past the constitutionally unsurprised man servant, sang out a loud woo-hoo and blew into the library like an equinoctial gale. Pipe in mouth, and wearing a thin silk dressing gown, Martin was standing under the portrait of his father.
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