KITTY CARTER
Canteen Girl

Story by

RUBY LORRAINE RADFORD

Illustrated by

HENRY E. VALLELY

FIGHTERS for FREEDOM Series

WHITMAN PUBLISHING COMPANY

RACINE, WISCONSIN

Copyright, 1944, by

WHITMAN PUBLISHING COMPANY

PRINTED IN U. S. A.

All names, characters, and events in this story

are entirely fictitious

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

Billy and Kitty Waved to the Tall Man

KITTY CARTER

Canteen Girl

CHAPTER ONE
THEY ALSO SERVE

“Oh, Kitty, look!” Little Billy Carter jumped up and down in delight beside his tall sister. “There’s Daddy!”

“Where?” Kitty asked as she searched the files of marching troops for a look at her dad.

Billy pointed with his chubby finger. “Yonder! The straightest, bestest of all!”

Then Kitty’s heart swelled with pride, too, as she watched a tall man with the other medical officers from the Naval hospital. They were all wonderful, those rhythmical, moving lines of blue, green and khaki, but for the two Carters the heart and soul of it all was the Chief Pharmacist’s Mate they called Dad. They were sure the war could never be won without him.

It was a gala day in Bayport, for every organization had turned out to boost the Community Chest drive. Now a military band was passing, while Billy’s small feet kept time, and scuffed out the soles of his shoes. Kitty had had no idea a six-year-old could wear out so many shoes till she had come home from college a short time ago. Was it really only a few weeks ago? To Kitty it seemed ages, for her whole program of life had been changed in that time.

“There come the WACs, to give Hitler whacks,” Billy prattled.

“And there are the WAVES, our American braves.”

Kitty laughed though her heart was like stone as she repeated the silly rhyme she had made up for Billy at Christmastime when she told him she was going to join the WAVES. How little she had dreamed during that happy vacation that Aunt Nina would be gone in another month, and Billy would have no one to look to except his big sister.

But Kitty couldn’t keep back the blinding tears as the WACs and WAVES passed in their trim uniforms, their heads held high, their eyes bright in the knowledge that they were doing their share to help win the war.

“When are you going to be a WAVE, Kit, and wear a pretty uniform?” Billy wanted to know.

“I’ve decided not to be a WAVE, darling,” Kitty looked straight ahead for fear he would see her tears.

“But you said you were going to help win the war. Dad says we all must.”

“Look, there come the tanks!”

Billy forgot his puzzlement over his sister’s change of plans, for the tanks were followed by jeeps, trucks and more lines of marching men and women. At last the parade went on down Bay Street, but Kitty still stood staring at the moving stream of passenger cars in its wake, though she really saw nothing that passed. Somehow she felt cheated, out of it all. After a while an insistent, small hand tugging at hers brought her back to the present.

“Aren’t we going to see the ducks in the park? You promised.”

“Yes, of course. It’ll be fun watching the ducks. Let’s go across to the bay walk.”

They succeeded in crossing the street finally, and hurried down the path curving around the bay shore. In sight of the water Kitty’s spirits always lifted. After all it was for such as Billy that this war was being fought, that they might be free to go to parks and feed ducks, and walk along a bay shore without fear of bombs overhead. As Dad had said, she was really doing more than her bit, giving him a start in life.

Bayshore Park was a lovely spot of green under magnificent moss-draped live oaks. By the time they reached it the parade had broken up and marines, soldiers and sailors were scattered about the green slopes, resting after their long march. At the duck pond Kitty took a small package of bread crumbs for the ducks from her purse and handed them to Billy.

As she sat on a bench near by, her attention was suddenly caught by a group of Canteen workers serving a lunch to the tired soldiers. There were young girls in the Corps, some even younger than she, laughing and talking with the men as they served them coffee, doughnuts and sandwiches from a long table under the trees. How hungry the boys seemed and how appreciative of having some girls to talk to!

Now she recognized one of the girls from near her home over on Palmetto Island. Why Sally Bright was still in high school! How could she get into the Canteen Corps?

“Look, Kitty, the sailor made me a boat!” Again Billy’s voice recalled her from her abstraction.

She discovered a young yeoman squatting by the pond with Billy as they launched a magnolia-leaf boat, with an oak-leaf sail. Billy was gobbling half a sandwich the sailor had given him.

“You shouldn’t have given him your sandwich!” she exclaimed.

The young man sprang to his feet, apparently seeing her for the first time.

“They’re so good,” he explained. “I couldn’t eat with him looking on.” He had brown eyes that twinkled as he spoke.

“They do look good,” she admitted.

“Let me get you one? These Canteen girls sure have a genius for making sandwiches.”

“Oh, no, don’t bother, please. I’m not hungry.”

“I’ve a kid sister who’s learned lots about good food since she’s been a Canteen worker.”

“Kid sister?” repeated Kitty, puzzled.

He laughed. “Well, she’s not such a kid after all, I guess. Junior in college.”

“How can she be a Canteen worker and go to college, too?”

“Oh, she has plenty of extra time to get in her Canteen quota of hours. A girl can do Canteen work anywhere she happens to be living.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. You mean they don’t have to sign up for full time or go away from home to do that work?”

“Sure!”

“Oh say, why didn’t I know about this before?”

The sailor’s face grew serious at the desperate way in which she spoke. “Why? Would you like to do Canteen work?”

“I’d like to do anything to help.”

“Well, gal, nobody’s keeping you from it! There’s Miss Pearson right over yonder. I’ll introduce you to her. Heard her say she’s going to start a new nutrition class next week.”

He caught her hand and started across the green to the end of the long table where an efficient-looking woman, in a blue uniform with spotless white collar and cuffs, was pouring coffee. Within a few feet of her the sailor stopped suddenly.

“What is your name? After all, introductions are awkward without having the names of both parties.”

They laughed self-consciously.

“Kathryn Carter—Kitty they call me, of course.”

“I’m Yeoman Brad Mason.”

“I knew you were a yeoman—your crossed feather insignia,” she told him. “You see my dad’s been in the Navy ten years.”

His face brightened. “Oh, then we’re practically in the same family. And now that the formalities are over we’ll proceed to business.”

Kitty glanced toward the end of the table and realized that Miss Pearson had overheard their little conversation. The three of them laughed, and the ice was completely broken.

“Since introductions are now unnecessary, Miss Pearson,” said Brad, “let me explain that this young lady has suddenly discovered there’s such a thing in this man’s war as a Canteen Corps.”

Kitty flushed. “Oh, really now, I’ve always known about them, but just got the idea of doing that work myself.”

“It’s certainly the duty of everyone to serve somewhere.”

Kitty felt a slight edge on Miss Pearson’s tone, and was aware that her eyes swept over her smart sweater suit and the jaunty blue tam.

“I’ve always meant to do my bit the minute I got my degree,” Kitty hastened to explain. “But I’ve thought and dreamed and worked toward going into the WAVES.”

“Well, why don’t you? They’re doing a marvelous work.”

Kitty’s eyes wandered to where Billy poked at his sail boat with a long stick. “I can’t go now,” she said in a low tone. “My aunt who has taken care of my little brother since my mother died, also left us six weeks ago. Dad’s in the service, and there’s no one left with Billy but me.”

Miss Pearson followed Kitty’s glance to the little form beside the pond. Her voice was warm with understanding as she said, “Yes, he’s your first responsibility.” Then she smiled gently as she added, “But I know it was hard for you to give up your dream of being a WAVE.”

“Don’t think I’m bitter about it,” Kitty hastened to assure her. “I adore Billy. He’s worth any sacrifice I could make. But if I could help somewhere to hasten the end of this war, nothing would make me happier.”

“That’s certainly our aim.” Miss Pearson glanced with a comradely look at Brad.

“I’ll say!” he agreed heartily.

“Do you think I could get into the Canteen Corps? Mr. Mason says you don’t have to live away from home.”

“Of course, they’ll be delighted to have you, my dear. Come over to the station wagon, and I’ll give you some leaflets telling about our work.”

“Wait a minute till I get Billy. He’ll be sure to fall in the pond if I go out of sight.”

“You go ’long. I’ll look after Billy,” volunteered Brad. “I like that boy. He’s enough like my oldest sister’s kid to be his twin.”

As they turned toward the station wagon that had brought over the Canteen supplies, Kitty began to have misgivings.

“Maybe I can’t do this sort of thing at all. You know I majored in music at school.”

“You like to eat, don’t you?” retorted Miss Pearson in that snappy, business-like way she had.

“I’ll say, and cook, too! It’s one of my hobbies.”

“Well then, what are you worrying about?”

She reached to the car seat and took out a brief case packed with notebooks and leaflets.

“This little book will tell you what the Canteen Corps is.”

As Kitty took the blue book with the Red Cross on the cover she exclaimed, “Oh, it’s part of the Red Cross work?”

“Of course. What did you think it was?”

“I hadn’t thought. This will make it all the more wonderful, working with the Red Cross. You know I think that’s the most marvelous organization. It’s simply great what they do for anybody, anywhere.”

Miss Pearson smiled at the exaggeration. “Well, my dear, it’s not quite so comprehensive as that. But we do stand ready to help in all emergencies, and that’s where the Canteen workers play such an important part. We are ready to feed people after air raids, storms, floods, and disasters of all kinds.”

“Oh, that is important!”

“And we must work under all sorts of handicaps. We often have to prepare large quantities of food right out in the open.”

“I learned something of outdoor cooking in my Girl Scout work years ago,” said Kitty proudly.

“Then you already have a splendid foundation. Some scouts are helping us this afternoon.”

“What must I do to get in? When can I start?”

“First you must take a course in nutrition. I’m starting a new class next Monday morning.”

“Is the class filled? I hope I can get in.”

“I already have a full class, but I can make room for someone like you. You see lots of women take this course, even when they can’t follow it up with Canteen work.”

“When this course is finished may I sign up for Canteen work?”

“You have to follow the nutrition course with a course in Canteen work.”

“Wish I’d started sooner so I’d be ready for work now.”

“The course may seem long, but there’s much more to Canteen work than the foundation course and emergency feeding. We do so many things. We often serve refreshments at blood donation centers. We have Snack Bars in USO halls. Sometimes our Canteen women help with school lunch counters or in day nurseries.”

“There’s one over on Palmetto Island where Billy sometimes goes.”

“So you live on Palmetto Island? That’s all to the good. We’re badly in need of workers there.”

“Oh, I’m so happy to learn about this! And you still think I can do it and not neglect my duty to Billy?”

“Of course, my dear. We have many mothers with several children, who manage to keep up their quota of Canteen hours every year and not neglect their homes. In fact they’re better mothers and homemakers for having taken the courses.”

“I’ve got to hug somebody—you!” exclaimed Kitty, impulsively throwing her arms around Miss Pearson. “It’s so wonderful to find something I can really do to help.”

When Miss Pearson had told her the time and place of the nutrition class, Kitty hurried back to Billy, wondering if she would ever have patience to wait till Monday to begin her training.

CHAPTER TWO
A STRANGE MEETING

“Will I be eating sandwiches you made the next time the Canteen serves here?” Brad Mason’s eyes twinkled teasingly as he put the question to Kitty when she returned to the duck pond.

“Maybe.”

“Are you really going to take the Canteen course?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for worlds! And say, I owe you a vote of thanks. If you hadn’t dropped those remarks about the Canteen work I might never have thought of joining.”

“And what a prize they would have missed!”

Kitty flushed as she took Billy’s hand and told him it was time to go home. It was strange how Brad Mason seemed like someone she had always known.

“Wait a minute, now!” exclaimed Brad, pretending to be angry. “You can’t walk out of my life like this. After all we’ve been introduced properly with Miss Pearson as witness.”

Kitty glanced up into his face as she buttoned Billy’s coat. Then they laughed gayly.

“At least you might tell me where you live,” Brad persisted.

“On Palmetto Island near the hospital. My dad works there. He’s a Chief Pharmacist’s Mate.”

“Not really!”

“Maybe you know him, since you’re in the Navy.”

“Why, were as good as in the same family. I work in the registrar’s office at the hospital.”

Kitty thought he was joking and said so. “I don’t remember ever seeing you there.”

“Been on leave for two weeks, and I had a little sick spell before that.”

“Oh, then that explains it.”

“Odd I never saw you before.”

“I came home from college about a month ago. Dad’s been down here two months.”

“Yeah, I know him well. He’s tops!”

“We think so, don’t we, Billy?”

“You bet! He’s the bravest man in the whole Navy.”

Kitty made a move to leave the park, but Brad followed.

“I didn’t parade. I got into town only today. Couldn’t I ride the bus back to the island with you?”

“I came in our launch. I have to wait and meet someone who is coming in on the four-thirty train. But say, if you’re not in a hurry we’d be glad to have you ride back across the bay with us. There’s plenty of room.”

“That’ll be swell.”

The town busses were so packed with people going home from the parade they decided to walk to the railroad station as it was only a few blocks down the street. When Billy got too tired Brad took him astride his shoulders and didn’t seem to care a bit if anyone stared at him.

“Going to meet some girl friend?” he asked when they were in sight of the station.

“No, a new nurse is coming to the hospital. I think she has worked in some hospital with Dad before. He knew all the island busses would be jammed after the parade, so suggested I come over in the launch and bring her back.”

As Kitty had never seen Hazel Dawson she was a little uneasy for fear she would slip through the train gates unrecognized. There were several smartly uniformed women among the travelers, WACs, and WAVES and Women Marines. Most of them hurried by as if familiar with the station and town. Then she saw a brisk-looking Navy nurse, following a redcap loaded with bags. Kitty was still hesitating when the nurse paused suddenly and looked her straight in the face.

“Are—are you—?” Kitty began.

She got no further when the nurse exclaimed, “Why you must be Kitty Carter, or her duplicate.”

“Then you are Miss Dawson?”

“No other. But I didn’t expect anyone to meet me.”

Kitty explained about the parade and the crowded busses, then introduced Brad and Billy.

“This really is an honor. It seems almost like going home to have someone meet me,” said Miss Dawson happily.

They caught a taxi outside the station. After the flurry of seeing about baggage Hazel Dawson seemed tired as she settled back in the car seat. Kitty glanced fleetingly at her face to see a weary, worried expression in her eyes.

“Tired?” she asked sympathetically. Somehow she felt strangely drawn to this older woman. She judged Ensign Dawson to be somewhere in her thirties. Evidently she had already seen real action. On her coat she wore the yellow ribbon for South Pacific service, and two stars indicating she had been in two major engagements. Her eyes held the shadowed, yet kindly light of one who eased much suffering.

“Not too tired,” she replied to Kitty’s question as she forced a smile to her lips. She studied the girl’s face thoughtfully a moment before she added, “So you’re Kitty Carter.”

“They say I look like Dad.”

“You do. I had no trouble recognizing you. Wherever your dad is he always keeps your picture and Billy’s on his desk.”

“Then You Are Miss Dawson,” Kitty Said

“So you’ve served with him before?”

“We worked together several months in the Pacific, and were in the same hospital at Annapolis.”

“I didn’t visit Dad when he was at Annapolis. You see ever since the war began I’ve been cramming, winter and summer, to get my degree. I wanted to get through as soon as I could and join the WAVES.”

“Yes. Your father told the you had to change your plans.” Hazel sent an understanding glance toward Billy, sitting on Brad’s lap.

“But I’m going to be able to help after all,” said Kitty eagerly.

“Really? Then you’ve made arrangements for the boy?”

“Oh no. I can help and still keep our little home. I’m going into Canteen work.”

“That’s splendid!”

“I might never have thought of it if I hadn’t met Brad Mason today.”

“Oh, you only met today.”

Brad grinned boyishly. “I thought it was important to get acquainted with her, even if I did have to use Billy as a go-between.”

“Billy as a go-between!” exclaimed Kitty, shocked. “Do you mean you made that sailboat for him with an ulterior motive?”

“I’ll have to plead guilty!” But Brad’s hearty laugh betrayed no sense of guilt. “When I saw you sitting on that bench looking so pensive I said to myself, ‘Now there’s a pretty girl who needs cheering.’”

“And we women have the idea it’s the service men who need cheering,” said Hazel.

Kitty laughed in spite of her chagrin. “Well. I’ll have to hand it to you for being a cheerer-upper,” she admitted.

“How did he stir up your interest in Canteen work?” asked Hazel, entering gayly into their banter.

Kitty gave a sprightly account of their meeting, and ended by saying. “And before I knew what had happened I had practically joined the Canteen Corps and invited Brad to ride home with us.”

“But you can bet she wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t been coming along. I know Kitty’s kind. She’s a stickler for form.”

“Oh, not really!”

“Just the same it’ll do you no end of good being a Canteen worker,” Brad persisted.

Kitty was about to make a saucy retort when Billy piped up. “Look, Kit, there’s the Red Cross station wagon!”

Sure enough they were passing the park where the station wagon was being loaded again. Miss Pearson glanced her way and waved.

“I think she’s going to be nice to work with,” said Kitty happily. “I can hardly wait till Monday to begin my training.”

“Can I ride in the station wagon with you when you’re a Canteen worker?” Billy wanted to know.

“If they’ll let you.”

At the corner where they had to turn toward the docks, the taxi was held up by traffic. A crowded Palmetto Island bus in front of them was loading passengers. A dozen or more people couldn’t get on at all. Among them Kitty noticed Lieutenant Cary, one of the physicians from their own hospital. It seemed a shame to leave him to wait for the next bus when there was plenty of room in their launch.

As the taxi crept through the traffic near the spot where the young lieutenant stood, she called out to him, “Come down to the dock.” She pointed down the side street toward the bay. “We’ll give you a ride over to the island in our launch.”

He acknowledged her invitation with a dignified bow. When they moved on Kitty turned to Brad and said, “Seemed a shame not to pick him up. You know him of course—Lieutenant Cary?”

“Oh, yes.”

Kitty was surprised to find Brad’s cool tone reflecting some of her own instinctive dislike of the man. She tried to disregard the feeling for she scarcely knew Lieutenant Cary. She had encountered him only a few times in her father’s office at the hospital. Though he made obvious efforts to be friendly Kitty had an unaccountable aversion for him. But she could not let her ungrounded prejudice go so far as to make her pass by one of her father’s co-workers, when she had plenty of room to take him home. Transportation conditions were bad enough, without anyone traveling with unused space.

Brad was most helpful in loading Hazel’s suitcases into the launch. By the time they had loaded the launch and warmed the motor, Lieutenant Cary came sprinting toward them. Brad and Miss Dawson saluted their superior officer as the physician paused a moment on the dock.

“This is really kind of you, Miss Carter,” Cary said, stepping into the launch. “I had no idea there’d be such a traffic jam when I came over.”

“Miss Dawson, may I present Lieutenant Cary?” said Kitty, while Cary still stood beside her in the middle of the launch.

He bowed with what Kitty thought exaggerated formality under the cramped conditions. “You’re the new nurse scheduled to begin work tomorrow, I presume?”

“That is correct, Lieutenant Cary.”

Kitty felt as if icy spray had been dashed into her face at the coolness of the tone.

“You’re no relation of Mate Willard Dawson, I presume?” questioned the Lieutenant.

“I’m proud to say he’s my brother!” Hazel Dawson spoke the words almost with defiance.

Kitty, standing between the two wondered what all this meant. Their antagonistic attitude was most unaccountable. She glanced at Brad to find a strained, embarrassed look on his face.

Kitty deliberately raced the engine to end the awkward moment. As she slowly and skillfully steered the launch through the harbor traffic, she wondered what all this meant. Who was this mysterious Willard Dawson, and why should Hazel be so stiff-necked in her assertion that he was her brother? Fortunately Hazel was in the prow, while Lieutenant Cary sat in the stern with Brad. Billy always wanted to stand in the prow, so Nurse Dawson kept a protecting arm around him while Kitty ran the boat.

Kitty’s father had said many times that she had been born with the salt of the sea in her veins, like all the Carters. Two generations of naval officers had been preceded by a great-grandfather who was captain of his own sailing vessel, so Kitty had only been following the family tradition when she aspired toward the WAVES. But she decided that afternoon as she headed back toward Palmetto Island that serving the Canteen was the perfect substitute under the circumstances.

The noise of the motor made conversation difficult, and she was rather glad of it, for the afternoon had been so eventful she had much to think about. First and foremost was her delight in making a service link. And meeting Brad—that was something she would never forget! And Hazel Dawson, too. She sensed it was the beginning of a new and different sort of friendship. She wondered why the thought of Dr. Cary chilled her ardor. Did Brad know why these two seemed to freeze on meeting? She meant to ask him when she had a chance.

Hazel caught her attention, waving toward the receding shores. “Beautiful country—marvelous!” she exclaimed, above the noise of the motor.

“You’ll love it here.” Kitty told her. “I’ll take you boat riding, even if we have to row to save gas. You must see these intriguing marshes, and the beautiful shore lines with the wonderful live oaks draped in Spanish moss.”

“This is my first trip south, in my own country,” Hazel told her.

Palmetto Island now came into view with its many smokestacks marking the sky line. A fringe of palmettoes farther east was lost in the mists where the inland waterways met the sea. Kitty pointed to the western shore where a large white building stood on the point.

“There’s the Bernard General Hospital,” she said to Hazel. “Our house isn’t far away, and the Marine Base is farther east and south.”

“A lovely spot!”

Kitty thought she caught a wistful note in Hazel’s voice, and her eyes were almost sad as she drank in the beauty of green marshes, the blue sky, and the bluer sea.

On reaching the island docks Kitty phoned her father as they had previously arranged to send down a car. When she came out of the warehouse where she had used the phone, Lieutenant Cary was gone.

“We could have taken him up with us,” she said, embarrassed that she had failed to invite him specifically before she had gone to phone her father.

“He said he had to stop on the way up to see a friend,” Brad explained. “He left his thanks to you for giving him a lift.” Then to Kitty’s amazement Brad added in a low tone through almost closed teeth, “Good riddance, if you ask me!”

That night at supper Kitty gave her father an account of her unusual afternoon, the main point of which was to tell him she wanted to begin Canteen training.

“I’m proud of you, Kitty, that you wouldn’t give up till you found some way you could serve under the circumstances,” said her father.

“Then you do think I can do it?”

“Of course. There’s nothing to prevent it.”

“We’ll have to pay Jane extra to stay with Billy the nights I’m on duty. Can we afford that?”

“Certainly, my dear. I’ve been thinking we might fix up that room behind the kitchen so Jane can be here all the time.”

“That’s a swell idea, Dad. I’d think she’d be glad to have a place rent free. Last week she had to borrow money to pay her rent.”

They talked over further details of the new arrangement for their combination nurse and cook. But even while they discussed their domestic problems Kitty’s mind kept going back to the meeting between Lieutenant Cary and Ensign Dawson.

Finally she blurted out, “Dad, did you ever know Willard Dawson, Hazel’s brother?”

He glanced at her sharply. “No, he left before I came. I was sent to take his place.”

“Then he worked a while with Lieutenant Cary?”

“Of course. Cary has been here six months. But why do you ask?”

Then Kitty attempted to give him an account of the meeting on the launch, and the animosity she felt existed between the two strangers.

Her father tried to brush her suspicions aside. “You mustn’t get the habit of attributing motives to every little thing people do, Kitty. Often people are merely tired or preoccupied, and their coolness has no significance at all.”

But Kitty was not satisfied with this explanation. She felt that her father knew much more about the mysterious Willard Dawson than he had revealed.

CHAPTER THREE
THE USO PARTY

All the next day, though Kitty had many obligations and numerous things on her mind, her thoughts continually returned to the peculiar circumstances of her boat ride from town. There was something very mysterious about the whole business. She felt certain her father had evaded telling her all he might have. Was the new nurse involved in some mystery?

Suddenly Kitty recalled Brad’s worried expression at the meeting of the two. He looked like one who suspected the cause of the disharmony. Though she could not question Nurse Dawson there was no reason why she shouldn’t talk to Brad about what had happened. Maybe she would see him at the USO party Saturday night.

As she dressed for the party the following night, Kitty’s thoughts were busy with what she would say to Brad. All the girls were wearing gay evening clothes, even though they were pre-war gowns, for this made the occasion seem festive for the boys.

Vera Parsons, a member of the Motor Corps, who drove the station wagon around to collect the girls for the USO parties, honked before Kitty had quite finished dressing. She threw her coat around her shoulders, caught up the skirt of the fluffy evening dress of pale yellow, and hurried toward the front door.

She felt buoyantly happy as she kissed Billy good night and joined the girls. Life had become an interesting adventure once more, with a goal to work toward. She had the happy feeling of one who had at last found a niche into which she fitted perfectly.

Kitty had been to only one other USO dance, for she had been in no mood for parties when she first joined her father on the island. She missed her Aunt Nina too keenly. It was Vera Parsons who made her realize these dances were not like most others. She would not be going merely for her own pleasure, but to help the boys forget they were homesick and lonely and still had a big job ahead of them.

“You know they won’t allow just any sort of girl to go to these dances,” Vera told her. “Only those of the highest caliber. They’re not always easy to find, especially on an island as small as Palmetto. We need all the nice girls we can get to help us out.”

So Kitty had attended the dance last Tuesday, and enjoyed it immensely. It was then she had noticed, though only casually, the Snack Bar which the Canteen operated. Tonight she planned to give the bar more than a brief inspection, and to get acquainted with the workers.

Vera knew all the girls and introduced Kitty. She had been on the island a year and was acquainted with everyone who was helping with war work. Vera was a most capable girl, large and rather muscular, but with such a wholesome attitude Kitty warmed to her at once. She had come upon her the first time on a sandy road running through a palmetto thicket. Vera was changing a tire with as much ease as a garage mechanic. Kitty later learned that she was the type of girl who doesn’t hesitate to put her hands to any task. Her reddish brown hair, snapping brown eyes and gusty manner won her friends wherever she went.

“Well, Kitty Carter’s soon going to be one of you!” was her method of introducing the Canteen candidate to the girls behind the Snack Bar. “Kitty, this is Mrs. Evans. She’s Chairman of the Corps over here, and this is Sally Bright and Judy Conner.”

“We’ll surely be glad to have you,” spoke up Mrs. Evans, a thin, sprightly woman in her fifties. Though much older than the other two, she was still young enough in spirit to be comradely.

“I can hardly wait to begin my training,” said Kitty, perching on one of the stools, and leaning her elbows on the counter.

“When do you start?” asked Sally.

“We’ll Be Glad to Have You,” Mrs. Evans Said

“Monday. The nutrition class first.”

“Yes, that must come first,” Mrs. Evans told her. “It’s a prerequisite to the Canteen course. We have to know a lot about food since our job is feeding people under all sorts of circumstances.”

“And we have to know how to wash a stack of dishes as high as the Washington Monument,” put in Judy Conner with a groan.

“Fortunately no one has to do that all the time,” Mrs. Evans explained. “We take turns doing the different tasks so everyone has an opportunity to gain all-round experience.”

“I’m always glad when it comes my turn to make out menus,” said Judy. “But Sally actually likes to clean up. Can you imagine that?”

Sally’s button nose wrinkled as her round face spread into a grin. “Strange, but true. I like to bring order out of chaos.”

“Isn’t it wonderful that we have a group where different ones like to do different things?” said Mrs. Evans happily.

“I like to cook,” Kitty told them. “I like experimenting and creating new concoctions and trying out new recipes.”

“I’m afraid there won’t be much opportunity for new dishes in this work, but you’ll be given plenty of opportunity to cook if you like that.”

Kitty glanced at Sally with a look of appreciation. “But I just can’t imagine anyone really liking to clean a kitchen.”

“They’re rare birds,” giggled Judy.

“It gives my esthetic nature a keen satisfaction to leave a kitchen spick-and-span after the hullabaloo is over,” Sally explained.

“Sometimes she is too anxious to clean,” Judy reported. “She has a way of cleaning up bowls and spoons before the cooks have finished with ’em.”

Sally went back to the kitchen to end their teasing, and Kitty asked, “Is the nutrition course very hard?”

“Oh, no. Miss Pearson makes it very interesting. You learn all about food needs in emergencies and food values for all times,” explained Mrs. Evans.

“I guess we could all learn a lot about that.”

“Indeed we could! Part of our work, too, is giving instructions and demonstrations to people. Good health and sane living are so dependent on proper diet.”

“More so than most people will admit,” said Judy. “You’ll learn about that in nutrition class.”

“Well, it seems I’m in line to learn lots that will help me even after the war is won,” Kitty answered, and she felt her interest and anticipation in the work increasing.

“The most exciting part of the work comes at the time of an emergency,” explained Mrs. Evans. “I helped once during a flood out in Mississippi. That was when I first went into Canteen work.”

“When we read about such things in the papers they seem so unreal and far away,” said Kitty, suddenly feeling a great sense of responsibility in her new undertaking. She realized now that a Canteen worker must have the courage and endurance of a true soldier if she was to fulfill her obligations.

There was much more she wanted to ask Mrs. Evans and the girls, but at that moment the band began playing and Jimmy Barnes, a young storekeeper, came to ask her to dance with him.

The second dance had just begun when someone tapped her partner on the shoulder. Kitty looked over the sailor’s shoulder to see the spotless white of a Naval officer’s uniform. She was surprised to recognize Lieutenant Cary.

She could not suppress a startled exclamation, “Oh, you?”

“Sorry to break in, but I had to apologize for leaving yesterday at the dock without telling you how much I appreciated the ride from town, but I was late for an appointment.”

“Oh, that was O.K. Dad had told me to phone so we’d have a way of getting Miss Dawson’s bags up from the dock.”

“So she’s an old friend?”

Though the young doctor’s words seemed harmless enough Kitty was instantly on the defensive. Guardedly she replied, “I never saw her till yesterday.”

“Though you met her at the train?”

Kitty noticed how blond the Lieutenant’s eyebrows were when he lifted them with a skeptical expression. She made no reply to his last remark, not knowing how best to speak.

He seemed to take the hint that the subject was closed, and after an interval said, “You dance beautifully.”

“Thanks.”

“You look charming tonight,” he persisted.

She flushed in spite of not wanting him to pay her compliments. She was about to make a pert retort when she reminded herself that he, too, was in the service, even though she disliked him personally. After all she had come here to try to make these men who were serving her country a bit happier. Suddenly she caught sight of Brad watching her with a puzzled expression.

To her relief the band crashed out the finale at that moment, and Brad came to claim her for the next dance.

“So glad you came,” Kitty said cordially.

“No gladder than I am.” He grinned as he looked her over with a sauciness at which no one could take offense. Then he whistled softly.

“Gosh, but you look like a dream walking!”

“But I came here to dance, not walk.”

“You didn’t come here to dance with Lieutenant Cary from now on if I have anything to do with it.”

“Why he dances divinely.” Kitty found herself defending the man she didn’t like just to take Brad down a peg or two.

“Maybe he learned his dance steps where the great Strauss waltzes were born.” Brad glanced around before he added “Vienna.”

“You mean?”

“We can’t talk here,” he warned quietly.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

“Did you?” he asked eagerly.

He took her arm and started toward the rear door. Some steps led down to a court with a fountain in the center and natural palms around it. There were dim lights, and a hostess to make everyone welcome.

Brad found a seat at the far end where the lights were dimmed enough for them to catch a glimpse of the stars. Kitty glanced around to be sure that no one else was within hearing distance.

“Brad, did you notice anything odd yesterday when I introduced Nurse Dawson to Lieutenant Cary?”

“Plenty!” He spoke the word with significance.

“They seemed to have an innate animosity for each other when obviously they had never met before.”

“If you ask me, Kitty, it was a blow to Lieutenant Cary to discover Ensign Dawson on her way to Bernard Hospital.”

“But why?”

“Well, I hardly know how to tell you. It seems so intangible—sort of hunch.”

“It must be a mighty big hunch, for I have the same sort of feeling that something’s wrong somewhere. Miss Dawson looked so sort of burdened.”

“Guess she has enough to make her feel depressed and definitely self-conscious at being sent to this hospital of all places.”

“Why?”

“Something happened while her brother was here. He left under a sort of shadow. Was shipped off to Santiago.”

“You mean he almost got a bob-tail?”

“Well, not quite. But I heard things were terribly mixed up in his work. He was Chief Pharmacist’s Mate like your dad.”

“I wonder what was wrong?”

“That’s what I haven’t been able to find out. But on several occasions I heard him and Lieutenant Cary having rather hot arguments. I could never get to the root of their trouble.”

“Then you think Lieutenant Cary had something to do with Dawson’s leaving the hospital?”

“I’m convinced of it.”

“Did you know him very well?”

“I wasn’t there long before he left, but I liked him an awful lot.”

“Naturally Lieutenant Cary would resent Nurse Dawson being sent to the same base.”

“And he didn’t make any bones about showing it,” said Brad in disgust.

Kitty watched some couples go back to the dance hall as the band struck up again. After an interval she said, “Brad, I believe Dad knows something about all this.”

“He ought to, if anyone does. They put him in the position Dawson had filled.”

“He shut up like a clam when I told him what happened in the launch yesterday.”

Kitty sat turning the opal ring on her third finger, as she puzzled over the complications.

“You have nice hands—capable,” Brad told her.

“That’s from all the years of piano practice. You have to have piano, you know, along with voice training.”

“Some time will you sing for me?”

She smiled up into his eager eyes. “I’d love to. But right now, Brad, I can’t think of anything but this queer business we’ve stumbled on. I have a queer feeling it may mean real trouble at the hospital.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s anything as serious as that. But I’ll tell you frankly I don’t trust Lieutenant Cary. He’s a man who’ll bear watching, all right. I heard that just a year before the war broke out he was studying surgery in Vienna and Berlin.”

CHAPTER FOUR
EMERGENCY FEEDING

Kitty was glad the sun was shining brightly Monday morning when she ran to the window to look out. She felt eager and ready to tackle the toughest sort of job. She could face her friends with new assurance now, for she was soon to be a part of the great army of workers dedicated to restoring peace to a troubled world.

For a while at least, while their gasoline allowance lasted, she was going back and forth in the launch, as that would save at least an hour each day in transportation time. Two other girls from the island were going to take the course with her and share those rides, so she felt justified in the use of gasoline. She had spent the early years of her life on the Gulf coast and was perfectly at home on the water. And how she loved it!

Vera Parsons had decided to add the Canteen course to her other lines of service, and Sally Bright’s sister, Lana, was joining also.

“I hope the course won’t be too dry,” mused Lana, when they were crossing the bay that first morning.

“It won’t be if Miss Pearson’s in charge,” Vera assured her. “She could put pep into a snail.”

“I wish I could begin work right now,” said Kitty. “I don’t see how I’ll have patience to wait to finish the courses.”

“There’s nothing to keep you from helping right now,” Vera told her. “There’re lots of Canteen Aides.”

“Canteen Aides?”

“Girls who haven’t taken the courses but do volunteer work in emergencies.”

“Oh, that’s great! I want to get into it as soon as possible. I’ve felt like a shirker these last weeks.”

“I don’t see why you call yourself a shirker,” consoled Lana. “With a kid brother, a dad and a cottage to look after, I should think you’d have your hands full.”

The nutrition classes were being held in the Power Company’s demonstration kitchen. The trio from Palmetto Island found about thirty women and girls gathered when they arrived. Miss Pearson, spotless in her attractive uniform, was already giving out mimeographed sheets for study. All the seats toward the back were taken, but Kitty and her friends found folding chairs near the demonstration table, where Miss Pearson had her materials spread out.

Kitty thought how easy it was to slip into the old habit of making notes at lectures when she took a notebook and fountain pen from her purse. Miss Pearson had not been lecturing half an hour when Kitty realized how valuable the classes were going to be. She could use the information now and long after the war.

“I want to sketch briefly what we must cover in this course,” Miss Pearson began. “As a foundation every one must know the requirements of good nutrition, and the value of different kinds of food.”

Kitty thought how little attention she had paid to such matters in the years she had been concentrating on her music. She had eaten what was put before her at school, and had given no heed to it unless she became ill and the doctor restricted her diet.

When Miss Pearson mentioned that she would give assistance in planning menus to fit food rationing situations Kitty was really delighted. That planning had been a mathematical problem to her ever since she had started housekeeping.

Field trips to large kitchens of the community, and to food preserving plants promised interesting diversions to classroom activities.

“Tomorrow morning I’ve arranged for us to visit the Bayshore Bakery after class,” Miss Pearson told them. “There you’ll learn a little about mass production. You see we have to be prepared to cook large quantities of food in times of emergency.”

Kitty saw that there was going to be real work, also, in the course. At the bottom of their instruction sheets were some questions that must be answered next day in class.

“We can discuss these going and coming in the boat,” Kitty suggested to her friends as they were going out.

“I really think it’s going to be fun,” Lana said.

“And very valuable, too,” said Kitty.

“I noticed a couple of women from over at the oyster cannery settlement,” said Vera. “Every woman over there ought to be taking this course for the good of her family. Miss Pearson is going to show us how to make a little bit go a long way.”

“That’s surely something we can all use,” said Kitty.

Their excursion to the bakery was followed by a visit to the oyster cannery, the community cannery, a near-by cafeteria kitchen, and to a school lunchroom, which was most efficiently organized.

“Every person in that lunchroom took our nutrition course when I first gave it,” explained Miss Pearson.

Kitty found it hard to believe at the end of the first week that half her nutrition course was already complete. She had enjoyed every minute of it. To be a part of a great scheme like this, in which everyone was cooperating for the general welfare gave her a glow of satisfaction. She didn’t mind at all that she had to work till bedtime to finish her home duties, to see about Billy’s clothes, and plan her own food program for the next day. In her carefree days at college she had not dreamed there was so much to be done in the world.

Classes were held in the evening during the second week of the course. This was a compromise to fit the needs of several housewives, who found it difficult to leave home in the morning. This arrangement made it necessary for Kitty, Vera and Lana to ride the island busses, as the girls could not go alone in the launch at night.

Palmetto Island was connected with the mainland by a long causeway across the marshes. This made the bus trip about three times the length of the boat ride.

The second evening, as the girls were returning home about ten-thirty the bus stopped near the oyster cannery to pick up some passengers. One of them was a sailor, wearing the crescent of the galley service. He impressed Kitty as being a raw recruit. Though Kitty was preoccupied with her own thoughts about the Canteen work, she had the fleeting idea that the boy must be on his way back to Bernard Hospital. She probably would never have thought of him again had not something rather peculiar happened.

The sailor stood just in line of her vision on the crowded bus. The man next to him had been smoking a cigar when he came aboard, and now held it in his hand. Suddenly as the bus lurched around a corner red-hot ashes from the end of the cigar fell on the sailor’s shoe. Instantly a spurt of flame ran diagonally across the boy’s shoe, as if some inflammable liquid had been spilled on it. Hastily the sailor stamped out the flame with his other foot. It all happened and was over in a flash. Kitty was impressed enough by the incident, however, to notice that the young man got off the bus at the hospital station.

Even then she would probably have forgotten the incident but for the strange events of the following day. She was roused at dawn by the telephone. It was Mrs. Evans, Chairman of the island Canteen unit.

“There was a big fire over at the oyster cannery last night,” she told Kitty. “Practically every shack on the point was burned down.”

“Oh, how terrible! Can I do anything?”

Kitty knew that the oyster cannery district was the poorest housed section of town.

“Indeed there is! We need every Canteen worker we can get to help prepare for these homeless people.”

“I’ll be right down,” said Kitty promptly.

“Could we use your launch?”

“Oh yes. I’m sure Dad won’t object.”

A Spurt of Flame Ran Across the Boy’s Shoe

“We are already loading the station wagon, but that won’t hold all we need. Miss Pearson phoned from Bayport for us to bring dishes, equipment and all the help we can get.”

“I’ll be down as soon as I can put on my clothes,” Kitty promised.

How thankful she was that they had arranged for Jane to have the small room behind the kitchen. Kitty roused her and gave careful instructions about the house and Billy, in case she would have to be gone all day. Then she told her father about the call, and in ten minutes was on her way down to the Canteen.

She helped Vera finish loading the station wagon and they drove over to the dock where her boat was housed. With the aid of Sally and Lana they filled the boat with pots, pans, all sorts of utensils and dishes, and what canned goods they had in stock. So many willing hands made quick work of the packing. They left only room enough for Mrs. Evans, the two Bright girls and Kitty. Judy Conner was going to help Vera pack the rest of their things in the station wagon and drive around over the causeway.

Not until they were seated in the boat and on their way to Bayport did Kitty find time to ask about the fire.

“The old cannery was a regular firetrap anyhow,” said Sally.

“It’s a miracle the fire didn’t sweep on to the shipyards,” Mrs. Evans remarked. “There was a strong northeast wind blowing that carried burning brands right in that direction.”

“Sounds like sabotage,” put in Lana.

“I doubt it,” said Mrs. Evans, who had a way of thinking the best of everything and everybody. “A careless match or hot cigarette ashes could have started the fire in any of those dumps.”

The mention of cigarette ashes made Kitty think of the cigar ash falling on the sailor’s shoe in the bus. Then with a feeling of shock she recalled that the sailor had come aboard the bus in the oyster cannery district. Could there possibly be any connection between the two fires? She knew that gasoline or kerosene was often used by saboteurs in setting fires. Perhaps the main motive had not been the destruction of the cannery and shacks, but the shipyards and government docks beyond.

Resolutely she tried to dismiss the entire affair, thinking how unjust it was to be suspicious of people she didn’t know. At least she would say nothing about it to anyone else, but she decided to do some investigating on her own if opportunity came.

There was so much to be done on reaching the scene of the disaster, however, that for a time Kitty forgot all about the incident on the bus. The Bayport Canteen workers had already set up a kitchen in a small playground near the center of the oyster cannery district.

She was amazed at the devastation that had been wrought in a few short hours. Practically every home that had surrounded the oyster cannery and docks had been burned to charcoal. The firemen, seeing it was impossible to save the poorly built shacks in the strong gale, had concentrated on preventing the spread of the fire to the essential war industries near by.

“It may be the best thing that could have happened to these people,” said Miss Pearson, when the island group of workers arrived. “We’ll see that proper housing units surround the cannery if it is rebuilt.”

Kitty had her initiation that day in the wonderful work which the Red Cross does in emergencies. As there was no adequate kitchen within easy reach of the homeless people, cooking racks had been set up in the open.

“If this were night and there was danger of air raids,” Miss Pearson explained to a group of Canteen apprentices who stood around the cook fire, “we’d have to cover our cook fire completely to keep it from being seen overhead.”

“My brother in the Coast Guard says even a match struck in the marshes can be seen by a passing plane,” Sally told them.

Soon pots were steaming with coffee, while huge saucepans held bubbling cereal. Kitty, with three other girls, improvised a table and benches where the children could sit to eat. In her group was Mrs. Janice, a member of the nutrition class, whom Vera had pointed out as a resident of the cannery district. She was an uneducated woman with an eager willingness to do everything in her power to help. Three of her sons were in the service. Though she and her other two children were now left homeless, she was doing her bit to help her fellow sufferers.

“There’s talk that the cannery was set afire,” she told Kitty when they went off together to tear some loose planks from a small section of the cannery that had not burned.

“Really! What have you heard about it?” Kitty said, encouraging Mrs. Janice to talk.

“The night watchman said he saw a stranger in dark clothes hurrying past the factory not ten minutes before he discovered the fire.” Then she added in a lower tone, “A sailor, too, he claims.”

Could it be possible that the boy she had seen on the bus had done this awful thing? But Kitty tried not to show her suspicions as she said, “But people must constantly pass by the cannery.”

“That’s so, of course, but you know how it is. You hear all sorts o’ talk. People round here were mighty careful ’bout fire, knowing how shoddy our houses were.”

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. You’ll certainly have better homes to live in after this.”

With the aid of Mrs. Janice’s fourteen-year-old son, Jerry, they found a half dozen boards from which they managed to make a table. The Canteen workers were soon helping the hungry children to bowls of hot cereal and milk as they lined up at the table. Some of them were upset at being separated from their parents, but Kitty had a way of stilling their fears as she satisfied their hunger.

When their breakfast was over, Kitty gave each of them an apple and herded them over near the swings. She solicited the aid of some older boys and girls to keep the younger children amused while their parents ate. Then for two hours she helped wash the mountain-like pile of dishes.

“How long will we have to feed them?” she asked Mrs. Evans, when she was finally drying her hands.

“Tired already?”

“Oh, no—that is, of course I’m tired, but I didn’t mean it that way. I was just wondering what’s to be done about all these people. Where will they sleep tonight? What will they do till more homes can be built?”

“And well you may, my dear,” said Mrs. Evans kindly. “The town is packed to capacity with war workers. In spite of that many homes have already made room for some of these people. The Red Cross will provide tents for others until permanent shelter can be found. In the meantime they are dependent on the Canteen Corps for food.”

Kitty’s eyes were starry as she looked at her leader. “It’s wonderful work, isn’t it, Mrs. Evans?”

“Indeed it is!”

“If this fire was the work of saboteurs, it only makes us dedicate ourselves all the more devotedly to bringing peace and harmony in the end.”

“Sometimes the most loyal person can let carelessness make him the worst sort of saboteur,” said Mrs. Evans significantly.

Kitty thought she had more reason than anyone else for doubting that that fire had been started by a careless patriot. She had thought at first that she would keep quiet about the little incident on the bus last night, but now she made up her mind to take Brad Mason into her confidence. Brad might be in a position to make some investigations that she could not about the sailor.

CHAPTER FIVE
THE SNACK BAR

Nutrition classes were suspended for the duration of the emergency.

“You’ll learn more through actual experience now,” Miss Pearson told them, “than I could teach you in many lessons.”

Kitty spent as much time as possible during the next three days helping to feed the homeless cannery workers and their families. Tuesday evening she was much too weary to go to the regular USO party, and so she had no opportunity to see Brad till the following Saturday.

By that time her excitement over the fire had cooled, and she was afraid he would think her silly to accuse the strange sailor of having anything to do with it. A score of times she had heard her father say, “When in doubt say nothing.” So she wisely followed his advice.

There was so much work to be done in the closing days of the nutrition class that she had no time to think of anything else. The course had opened up to her a whole new world of practical interest.

“I can’t believe we’ve learned so much in two weeks,” she said to Lana and Vera.

“I’m surely glad Miss Pearson taught us every day, instead of once a week as they do in some places,” said Vera.

“I’ll say,” agreed Lana. “It’s much better to do it in two weeks instead of ten.”

“And it’s been so much fun, too,” said Kitty. “Only think of the places we’ve visited—packing plants, canneries, bakeries, restaurant kitchens. It’s so interesting to learn about all the food industries around this part of the country.”

“I’ve got a whole notebook full of recipes, and ideas about food I can put to good use when my Jim comes back from Italy,” said Vera.

“Huh,” laughed Kitty, “I don’t have to wait for anybody to come back.”

Lana laughed too. “That’s right. You have a dad and little brother to experiment on right now.”

On the last evening, as they were going over to class, Kitty said to her two pals, “Strange, but I don’t feel a bit nervous over the exam.”

“It’s been so practical and interesting there’s no sense in anyone being nervous,” Vera agreed.

“I wish I felt as certain as you two,” said Lana, who was still poring over her tables of vitamins and caloric values.

At this final meeting all except three members of the class signed up to go on with the Canteen work, though Kitty and her two friends were the only ones from Palmetto Island. Kitty felt a real glow of pride when she received her certificate at the conclusion of the course. Each member of the class was also given a recipe book to help with her own home menus.

The Canteen course that followed immediately under Mrs. Evans gave quite a different kind of instruction. The brief experience they had already had in emergency feeding made them keenly appreciative of all the phases of the Canteen instruction. Step by step they discussed all the angles of the work; planning menus for large scale feeding, food preparation, and here the course they had just taken was of invaluable aid. They also discussed methods of food service and how to keep a Canteen orderly and spotless. Kitty was one of the group who received some practical experience in serving food at the blood donation center twice a week.

Two days before this course ended there was a railroad wreck twenty-five miles from town. Kitty went with the mobile canteen to supply food for the rescue crew who were working to clear the wounded from the wreck. It happened to be Hazel Dawson’s day off, and she, too, went in the Red Cross station wagon, and worked like a trooper, giving first aid to the wounded.

“Tired?” asked Hazel gently as they were riding home in the Red Cross car at ten o’clock that night.

“I didn’t know I was tired till I sat down,” Kitty admitted. “But Hazel, isn’t it wonderful to be able to help people at a time like this?”

“There’s nothing in life quite so wonderful. You have the spirit of a real Canteen worker, Kitty. It’s a privilege to feed men’s bodies when they’re hungry, but it’s still more wonderful to give comfort to their souls and anxious minds as I saw you doing several times today.”

Kitty had had no greater sense of pride when she donned her cap and gown at graduation than she felt the day she was entitled to wear her Canteen uniform the first time. She was going over to Bayport to meet a troop train with several of the workers.

The Belgian blue poplin dress made her bright eyes seem all the bluer. Her heart was beating proudly when she arranged her cap behind the auburn hair rolled softly into a pompadour. She had a feeling of real pride in those red crosses on her pocket and the white band of her cap. Some day she meant to earn service bars, too. Mrs. Evans wore a chevron and three bars, representing seven years of service.

Although the girls did not wear their uniforms at the Snack Bar, Kitty donned the official apron she was allowed to wear there on the first evening after finishing her course. Though she had done much volunteer work at the bar she felt somewhat elated tonight over being a full-fledged Canteen worker.

She was in an expansive mood and said as she and Judy were slicing bread for sandwiches, “Let’s make ’em extra large, with plenty of stuffing just to celebrate our graduation.”

“You might make that special dressing you were telling me about,” Judy suggested.

“May I, Mrs. Evans?” Kitty asked.

“Of course. The boys always enjoy something different.”

Kitty had learned to make a tart creole sauce for sandwich filling from their cook in New Orleans, so she prepared a bowlful. By the time the boys began to drift into the hall the air was fragrant with coffee and chocolate, and trays of sandwiches were ready.

Brad, knowing it was Kitty’s initiation night, was one of the first bluejackets to plant his elbows on the counter and demand a sandwich.

“And a cupa cawfee, too, wench, and be snappy about it!” he said with mock gruffness.

She made a face at him as she turned to get the coffee.

After one bite of the sandwich Brad’s eyes bulged. “Oh boy! This tastes like something from Toni’s swanky joint in New Orleans.”

Kitty laughed in delight. “Our old cook used to work at Toni’s. She gave me lots of his secrets.”

Jimmy Barnes sat beside Brad taking huge bites of a sandwich. He enthusiastically added his praise to Brad’s. “Boy, but this is really seasoned up like home cooking.”

“About the best seasoning they give us up at the hospital is the shrimp creole.”

“And they only have that about twice a month,” added Jimmy in disgust.

Kitty’s curiosity stirred. Maybe this was her chance to learn something about the staff in the galley.

“Do you know the cooks very well?” she asked.

“Only a passing acquaintance,” said Brad. “Our Chief Commissary Steward is named Krome—an old timer at the job.”

“I saw a thin, dark-looking chap on the bus the other night with a crescent on his arm. Do you happen to know him?”

“Quite a number down there,” said Jimmy dubiously. “Only one I’ve talked to very often is a fair young chap, named Ned Miller.”

“There’s one named Punaro fits your description,” Brad told Kitty. “He empties wastebaskets on our floor.”

“Right young—about eighteen or nineteen?” Kitty persisted.

“About that. Only been in a few months. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I just happened to see him the other day on the bus.”

A few minutes later Brad and Jimmy went off to play a game of pingpong with some of the girls and for the next hour Kitty was very busy at the bar. Later during a lull in their business she glanced down the hall and noticed that Lieutenant Cary was playing chess with someone in the south corner of the room. They were about the only two who had not patronized the Snack Bar during the evening.

“What’s so interesting over there?” Brad’s teasing tone jolted Kitty out of her curious speculation.

“Who’s that playing chess with Lieutenant Cary?” she asked in a low tone.

Brad glanced to the south corner of the room and replied, “Krome.”

“You mean the head cook up at the hospital?”

“What’s so surprising about that?”

“Somehow I thought Lieutenant Cary would be too snippity to play chess with the cook.”

“Why Krome’s Chief Commissary Steward. Lieutenant Cary has no reason to be high-hat to him. He was in the service long before Cary ever thought of such a thing.”

“Is that so?”

“Sure.”

“But Dr. Cary is a lieutenant.”

“Just the same he’s only been in the service a few months. He’s one of the physicians recently recruited.”

“Oh, I see,” murmured Kitty in a significant tone. Then she asked, “Do you know anything about the cook?”

“What’s So Interesting There?” Brad Asked

Brad laughed. “I know he can dish up some mighty good chow on occasion.”

“He looks as though he didn’t object to good eating himself. He must weigh two hundred and twenty-five at least.” Kitty tried to make her tone seem trivial in case anyone else had overheard their conversation.

“I’ll be trotting along,” Brad said. “I promised to make a fourth for bridge over yonder.”

Kitty held his eyes a moment and lowered her voice to say, “There’s something I want to talk to you about when I have a chance.”

“I’ll see you home if you can get through before eleven. We can talk on the way up.”

“Fine,” she agreed.

Brad had scarcely taken his seat with the other players when Lieutenant Cary and Chief Krome came toward the bar.

Excitedly Kitty whispered to Judy, “Let me wait on them if they come here.”

Judy sent her a surprised look. “You’re welcome to them. I wouldn’t be interested.”

“Neither am I, in the way you think,” retorted Kitty with a laugh.

She thought what an odd pair they made as they came toward the Snack Bar. Lieutenant Cary was as lean and alert as a bloodhound, while the square-rigged Krome was almost a head shorter. Kitty would have felt curious about any man who was friendly with Lieutenant Cary, even if her curiosity had not already been stirred by one of Krome’s assistants, so that the association brought the Chief Steward under suspicion also.

Vera came out of the kitchen just as the two men straddled the stools at the counter and she took Lieutenant Cary’s order. Kitty’s hand was a little unsteady as she poured Krome’s cup of coffee.

“We have some special sandwiches tonight,” Judy explained to the two customers, “made by our new Canteen worker, Miss Kitty Carter.”

“I’ll take two,” Krome spoke up promptly.

When Kitty faced the head cook squarely he seemed such a hearty, good-natured sort her suspicions evaporated like the steam above his coffee cup.

“So you’re now a full-fledged Canteen worker.” Though Lieutenant Cary’s smile and words were friendly enough his tone held a slight cynicism.

“I wasn’t a bit prouder when I donned my cap and gown at graduation from college, than when I put on my uniform the first time,” she said frankly.

“They got something when they got you, young lady,” spoke up Krome warmly. “These sandwiches ain’t to be sneezed at.”

“Why, I’m thrilled that you think so! They tell me you can serve some very good things over at the hospital, and I can vouch for it myself the few times I’ve eaten there.”

“So you’re Chief Carter’s daughter?”

“And proud I am to have the honor.”

Krome finished the last crumb of his sandwich, and said, “How about giving me the recipe for that sandwich filling?”

Kitty looked disconcerted. “If you feed the boys on it at the hospital they may not want our sandwiches down here.”

“I’ll promise not to do that.”

Kitty laughed. “Oh, really, I wouldn’t be that selfish. You’re welcome to the recipe. And maybe you’d do me a favor in return.”

Krome looked surprised. “Me do you a favor?” he asked, indicating himself, then Kitty with his fat hand. Then he laughed as if it were a great joke.

“I heard the boys talking about your grand shrimp creole—and that they don’t get it often enough. How about giving me that recipe?”

“Oh, that? Sure. We’ll swap recipes then. I’ll bring it next time I come.”

When the men had gone Judy said with a sniff, “If you ever get a recipe out of him you’ll do better than Mrs. Evans has. He’s promised her several and never brought them.”

“Maybe he’ll pay more attention to my request if he wants a recipe from me.”

At ten-thirty when Kitty put on her light wrap to go home she was really tired. But how glowingly happy she felt at the realization that her job had been well done! Brad was waiting for her.

Though it was only March there was more than a hint of spring in the balmy night air, and the stars seemed close and warm in a sky like deep purple porcelain. Neither of them spoke while they walked the first block.

Then Brad said, “You wanted to ask me about something?”

“Yes, I did. But somehow it seems absurd to be suspicious of anyone on a night like this.”

“Well, forget it.” After an interval he asked, “Think you’re going to enjoy the Canteen work?”

“I’m crazy about it. But really it seems so little to do when there’s so much to be done.”

“It’s all the little bits put together that’s going to help us win this war.”

“And prepare us to live in a more wonderful peace afterward. It’s learning to work together that’s so important.”

“One person pulling in the wrong direction can upset the whole works.”

Kitty made no reply, but she thought he must know what was on her mind even before he added, “I figure you’ve been wondering why Krome and Cary seem so intimate.”

“You hit the nail on the head!”

“We’ve both put a big question mark behind Cary, and when we see Krome buddying with him he gets a question mark, too.”

“Not only Krome.”

“That chap, Punaro, you were asking about?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s he done?”

“I’ve hesitated a long time about mentioning it. It may seem I’m straining at a gnat.”

“Let’s have it,” he urged.

“You do hate to suspect people of being spies and saboteurs, especially when they’re right in the hospital with your own father.”

“All the more reason you shouldn’t take any chances.”

Quickly Kitty gave Brad an account of the little incident on the bus three weeks earlier. “It seems sort of absurd now that I’m talking about it for the first time to think the boy might have had anything to do with the fire at the oyster cannery, but that’s exactly what I have been thinking.”

“I don’t think your suspicions are unfounded.”

“If he used gasoline or kerosene to start that fire it was still fresh enough to flame up from those cigar ashes. And he certainly did get on the bus right at the cannery station.”

“If that fire was the work of saboteurs the objective was no doubt the shipyards, not the cannery.”

They walked on to Kitty’s door in silence. Then Brad said, “I sure wish you’d told me about this when it happened.”

“Why? I can’t see that we can do anything.”

“Maybe I could have managed to get a squint at Punaro’s shoes.”

“Punaro’s shoes? But the gasoline, or whatever it was, had already burned off.”

“But shell dust would still have been on the soles next morning.”

“Say—that’s so! I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You know all that land around the cannery has been built up of oyster shells,” explained Brad. “It was once only a marshy bog they tell me. If Punaro set that fire he’d be obliged to get shell dust on his shoes.”

“The only paved sidewalk runs along the street where the bus stopped,” explained Kitty. “I noticed that the day we went over to open the Canteen.”

“There’s a possibility I might still find out something.”

“How?”

“He probably stopped wearing those shoes with the burned stain. If he discarded them right away they’d probably still bear the evidence of shell dust.”

“And even if you found out he’d really been there, Brad, where would it take us?”

“I don’t know, but you can just be sure, Kit, I’m not going to let a thing like this slide by.”

CHAPTER SIX
A REVELATION

Kitty was still thinking of her conversation with Brad when she went in to help Jane with breakfast the next morning. What could they do about it, even if they had positive proof that the Punaro boy had visited the oyster cannery on the night of the fire? He could claim he had gone there to see friends, and they would have accomplished nothing by their prying. She hoped Brad wouldn’t get in any trouble about it.

“How did you like your Canteen work?” her father asked at breakfast.

“Oh, fine!” she exclaimed, her thoughts returning to the real work of the previous evening. “It’s really loads of fun. I’m going to be on duty every other night.”

“You’ll be doing more than your quota of hours, won’t you?”

“Oh, I don’t mind that. This is no time to stick to quotas, you know.”

“You spoke a truth then, Kitten,” her father said proudly.

“We have so few workers over here on the island each of us will have to do double duty. It’s going to be loads of fun.”

“I’m so pleased you’ve found your place in the war program. I was sure you would.”

Kitty glanced at her father gratefully as she handed him the hot muffins Jane had brought in.

“No, thanks. I have plenty.”

“But, Dad, you always eat two. And you haven’t eaten half your eggs. That’s very unpatriotic with eggs so high.”

He laughed. “I’m beginning to see the effects of your nutrition course already.”

“I’ll admit it’s made me food conscious, and I was already point conscious.”

“I must hand it to you women for having a streak of genius with handling rationing points.”

“I’m ashamed to admit it, Dad, but I find myself figuring up point values first and almost forgetting what a thing is going to cost.”

“I’ve had a few worries myself over supplies,” he said, and Kitty saw the furrow deepen between his brows.

“How’s that, Dad?” she asked eagerly, hoping he would open up about what was on his mind.

“Oh, you have problems enough without being burdened with mine,” he said.

Kitty ate the last half of her muffin with some orange-blossom honey, then she sat looking thoughtfully at her father. She had been so absorbed in her own activities lately she had paid scant heed to his failing appetite. Now she realized he had eaten very little for several days.

“Dad, don’t you think you’d better take a tonic or something?” she said finally. “Your appetite is just about gone.”

He tried to laugh off her anxiety. “Oh, I’ll pick up in a day or so. I’ve been rather preoccupied with things at the office.”

His admission gave her a start. “Anything wrong?”

“Nothing that can’t be adjusted in time, I hope.”

“You couldn’t tell me about it?”

“No sense in burdening you with my problems. Kitty. You have enough on your shoulders now.”

“Maybe I could help. Sometimes problems clear up after talking them over with others. Every time I’ve ever brought my troubles to you they seem to vanish in thin air.”

“There’re some things a man can’t talk over with anyone, Kitten, when he’s in the service. He has to keep things from even his own daughter, whom he’d trust with his very life.”

Kitty was now certain that there was something radically wrong. Was it possible that it could in any way be connected with the clues she had picked up in the last few weeks? Willard Dawson, Chief Pharmacist’s Mate, who had just preceded him, had been involved in some sort of trouble at the hospital. Was her father becoming involved in the same sort of complications? The idea that he, also, might be relegated to some remote base, filled Kitty with terror. The life they were living here together seemed a paradise when she feared that something tragic might happen to end it.

After her father had gone to the hospital Kitty couldn’t put him from her mind. She decided she must do something to lift him out of his depression. Later when she was in the kitchen helping to fix Billy’s breakfast plate, she remarked to Jane that she was afraid her father wasn’t very well.

“Reckon he worried ’bout somepen, Miss Kit?”

“Why? What makes you think that?”

“Las’ night atter us all in bed I hear him pacin’ back an’ fo’th, back an’ fo’th, like somepen whut’s trapped.”

“Somepen whut’s trapped,” kept ringing in Kitty’s head after she left the kitchen. This morning she felt like someone who had picked up half a dozen pieces of a jig-saw puzzle out of which she could make no sense at all. If she had had any idea of what was back of it all she might have pieced them together in an orderly pattern.

Later as she gathered fresh nasturtiums from the little flower bed under the living-room window, the vision of Lieutenant Cary and Chief Krome playing chess rose up to trouble her. Surely they could have nothing to do with her father’s anxieties. Yet she could not forget the mutual antagonism which Cary and Hazel had shown each other instantly, and she felt instinctively that they were all involved in a strange chess game which she had to play blindfolded. But she was determined, if her alertness could prevent it, that her father would never become a pawn to be sacrificed as Willard Dawson had been.

Suddenly she had a sense of guilt that she had given her father so little companionship lately. Then she thought of Nurse Dawson, and something he had said when she first arrived, “We must have her over to dinner some evening. It means so much to people in the service to go into real homes.”

“Why not have her over tonight?” she thought. She had an evening free of Canteen work, and Dad definitely needed cheering up. She hurried to her desk drawer to study her ration books to see if there were enough points left for a decent roast. Since Dad had been eating two meals at home he also had books, which helped out greatly, and with Jane’s books added she had much more latitude in her buying.

Her father had just reached his office when Kitty got him on the phone. She made her tone as sprightly as possible when she asked, “Dad, how about having Hazel over to dinner tonight?”

His voice had an eager quality when he answered, “Oh, fine, Kitten! It wouldn’t be too much bother?”

“How About Asking Hazel Over Tonight?”

“No, indeed! I’ve been wanting to for a long time. And this evening I haven’t another thing to do. Will you ask her?”

“Maybe you’d better phone her. I won’t have an opportunity to see her till lunch, and by that time she may have made other plans.”

“O.K., old dear, just as you say.”

“Tell her I’ll call for her at six.”

Kitty thought as she dialed the hospital that her father had let slip an important point. In mentioning that he wouldn’t see Hazel till noon, he implied that they must eat together every day. The thought made her feel very happy.

When Kitty finally got in touch with Hazel and gave her the invitation she eagerly accepted.

“Is she comin’?” Jane wanted to know as she stood in the doorway, awaiting the answer.

“She and Dad were as pleased as two kids being invited to a picnic. We’ll have to give them a swell feed, Jane, and see if this improves his appetite.”

Kitty dashed off to the market to see what she could get for their dinner. She did a weekly shopping in Bayport on Saturdays. In order to save gasoline she tried to manage the rest of the time with what she could pick up on the island.

It proved to be a busy day for both her and Jane. While the negro girl was busy in the kitchen, Kitty tried to brighten up the rather shabby furnishings of their little cottage. She reminded herself that it was wartime and one must make the best of undesirable living conditions. They had brought their own silver and linens from their old home on the Gulf coast, and with these she made the table look very pretty. The bowl of nasturtiums in the center gave quite a festive air.

“Ain’t no use to worry ’bout de looks, Miss Kit,” Jane consoled her when she arranged and re-arranged the flowers to get the right effect. “Us make de grub taste good enough an’ dey won’t think ’bout nothin’ else. Dese ain’t no times to worry ’bout de frills o’ livin’.”

Kitty had often thought that Jane, with a little more education, would have made a fine philosopher. Certainly she would never die of worrying over what couldn’t be helped.

Kitty wore sweater suits so constantly she felt really dressed up when she put on one of her old silk prints and let her hair down from its tight ringlets to fall in soft auburn curls about her face. It seemed to belong that way with the flowered print.

Though Kitty had intended cultivating Hazel Dawson’s acquaintance she had actually been with her only once since her arrival. Then she and her father and Hazel had eaten lunch together in the hospital dining-room, where there was little chance for connected conversation. So Kitty was also glad of this opportunity to develop their friendship.

Hazel couldn’t praise Kitty’s delicious dinner enough, and remarked several times how wonderful it was to be in a real home.

“It’s nothing like the lovely bungalow we had in New Orleans,” said Kitty. “Of course we had our own things there. But I’m not complaining. It’s too wonderful that we can be together in any sort of home now.”

After a while Kitty slipped into the background and listened while her father and Hazel discussed other places they had worked, and mutual friends who were now scattered far and wide. The meal was not half over before Kitty was certain her father had more than a passing interest in this nurse. His preoccupation of the morning had vanished with the genial companionship.

“I’m hoping I’ll get a chance at overseas duty again,” said Hazel.

“You wouldn’t want to go till you finish the job you came here to do.”

“Oh, no! No, indeed! I wouldn’t be satisfied to go anywhere till that’s done.”

Kitty glanced speculatively from one to the other. Their words implied much. When Hazel looked across the table to find a puzzled expression on Kitty’s face, she instantly changed the subject.

“Don’t forget, my dear, that you promised to take me on a tour of these inland waterways.”

“I haven’t forgotten, but there was so much to be done while I was taking my Canteen course.”

“I’m so interested in this coast country. It’s really beautiful.”

“In a week or so the weather will be getting very mild, then we’ll make a day of it when you have some time off,” Kitty promised.

After dinner Kitty excused herself to see about Billy, who had eaten earlier and been put to bed.

As she went down the hall she heard Hazel say to her father, “I’ve been wanting to tell you something I have just uncovered.”

Then for the first time Kitty felt certain that Hazel Dawson had come to the Bernard Hospital in the double capacity of nurse and investigator in behalf of her brother. In order to give them plenty of time for consultation she stayed in Billy’s room an hour, reading him bedtime stories.

His sleepy eyes had been closed some time when her father poked his head in the doorway and asked, “Kitten, aren’t you coming back to the living-room?”

She tried to smile disarmingly as she said softly, “Billy felt sort of out of it all. I had to make it up to him.”

“I want you to sing for Hazel,” he added as they went down the hall.

“Oh, please do!” exclaimed Hazel, who overheard them. “I’ve always wanted to hear you sing.”

“This old piano is terribly out of tune, and I’m out of practice, but I’ll try.”

She sang a simple little lullaby first, and gaining courage from their praise, she sang the aria she had learned for her closing recital at school.

“Oh, Kitty darling, your voice is really beautiful, so full and rich. You must go on with your music! All the world ought to be hearing that beautiful voice.”

Hazel’s words once more stirred Kitty’s old ambition, that had been overshadowed of late by circumstances.

“When the war is over, maybe,” she tried to speak with an indifference she did not feel. “But right now I have other jobs to do.”

“Haven’t we all!” said Hazel significantly, and turned to meet her friend’s understanding glance.

Later when her father had gone to take Hazel home, Kitty sat at the window a long time. She felt an unaccountable loneliness, even while her heart rejoiced at what the evening had revealed. What a wonderful wife Hazel would make for her dad! His loneliness had long been a source of unhappiness to her. Finally she went to her room, humming softly the lullaby, hoping that those suspicions at least had good foundation. Maybe some day after the war she would have a home of her own. What a comfort it would be to know Dad was not left alone!

CHAPTER SEVEN
THE TANGLED WEB

A wild March gale was howling over the island the following evening. Though rain poured in torrents Kitty found a score of marines and sailors already in the USO hall when she arrived at the Snack Bar. On such nights she always thought of the boys across the water, who were fighting in all sorts of weather. The Snack Bar and the cozy atmosphere of the big hall made her wish they could all share this comfort.

Nell Cruger, the USO hostess, was worried when she remarked to Kitty, “Vera just phoned from out at Thompsons’ place that she’s stuck in the mud but will get here as soon as she can. We haven’t half enough girls to keep the boys entertained till then.”

“Oh, depend on Vera to get out of any sort of tight spot,” replied Kitty confidently. “She’ll be along after a while with a station wagon full of girls.”

Kitty had her own Canteen duties to look after and was quite busy for half an hour before she realized that Vera had not yet arrived. Only one carful of girls had come in, and although they were doing their best to make the boys have a pleasant evening, there was still not nearly enough girls. Kitty decided the Canteen girls would have to do double duty by helping the USO hostess.

She was about to tell Mrs. Evans she would go outside into the hall to be some boy’s partner for a dance when she noticed a lonesome-looking fellow at her own Snack Bar. She had served him a cup of coffee when he first came in and had made overtures of friendship which had been indifferently received. He still sat on the end stool, looking dejectedly into space, half his coffee still in the cup.

“Anything else you’d like?” she asked.

“No, thanks,” he replied, without changing his position or looking toward her.

She went back to the kitchen a moment later to get some more cream, and Sally, elbow deep in suds, said, “Poor boy, he’s been sitting there in a fog for the last half hour. Guess he’s got something rather bothersome on his mind.”

“He looks like a new one in the service,” commented Kitty.

Later as she wiped the counter clean she noticed the sailor’s fresh, fair complexion not yet tanned by the southern sun. There was something about him that made her think of Billy. Her own little brother might look like that when he was grown up. In twenty years she hoped there wouldn’t be another war to catch him in its snares. If it had to happen she knew she would thank any Canteen worker who would cheer him.

She pushed a neatly wrapped sandwich toward the sailor. “These sandwiches are really good,” she said encouragingly. “Wouldn’t you like to try one?”

Then he turned slightly and looked at her for the first time. “I couldn’t swallow a bite,” he said.

His gentle gray eyes were as pathetic as a frightened lamb’s. Kitty couldn’t bear it. She darted back to the kitchen to tell Mrs. Evans about him.

“He’s been sitting there utterly dejected for the last half hour.”

“He’s Ned Miller,” explained Sally. “I’ve noticed him several times lately—seems awfully depressed.”

“He doesn’t even know they’re dancing and playing games out there in the hall,” Kitty said.

“I’ll see if I can draw him out,” Mrs. Evans volunteered.

She strolled from the kitchen and pretended to be busy at the counter. In a casual manner she addressed Ned, “Wouldn’t you like to dance a bit?”

“No, thanks, I don’t want to dance.” His tone was flat from lack of interest.

“They’re scarce of girls tonight, but we’re not so busy either. I could spare one of the Canteen girls to play a game of checkers with you, if you like.”

“No, thanks.”

Just inside the kitchen door Kitty and Sally listened to Mrs. Evans’s overtures of friendship.

Finally she spoke in a motherly tone. “Son, you’re worried about something. Isn’t there anything I can do for you?”

Then the pleading gray eyes looked up at the motherly face and this time they were swimming in tears. For a moment he seemed to be appraising her. Finding the sympathy of her heart reflected in her eyes he finally blurted, “I—I want to hold a baby.”

Kitty, watching beside Sally in the background fairly held her breath at this unexpected retort.

“A baby?” repeated Mrs. Evans.

Ned dug into his pocket and brought out a yellow sheet of paper. The girls saw it was a telegram as he handed it to her.

“Our baby came yesterday. They’re—they’re in California. I—I’ve been so scared for her the last week I haven’t had good sense. I can’t believe it’s all over and she’s all right.”

“Oh that’s wonderful!” exclaimed Mrs. Evans. “And a boy, too. Eight pounds.”

He grew more confidential at her warmth and understanding.

“If—if I could only hold a baby once to see how it feels. I’ve never held a baby. Maybe I can believe I’m a father when I know how a baby feels.”

Hot tears blinded Kitty’s eyes, and her throat tightened. How tragic it was to be three thousand miles away from your firstborn, with no real hope of ever seeing him before you were sent across!

“Sally, I’m going to find a baby for him to hold if there’s a young baby on this island!” Kitty whispered.

Sally wiggled her button nose as she, too, blinked back the tears. “Say, but that’s tough! Where’ll you find a young one, Kit? I don’t know where there’s a young baby.”

“I’ll find one. You’ll see,” said Kitty and dashed out to the telephone.

In two minutes she had Hazel Dawson on the phone. Surely she would know if any of the wives of the service men up at the hospital had young babies.

Hazel was rather surprised at Kitty’s unusual request, but after a little thought said, “Mrs. Harper’s baby is about ten days old. She came back from the hospital in town yesterday, I believe.”

“Do you think you could possibly arrange for me to bring Ned Miller up to see it?” asked Kitty.

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have him visit them,” Hazel said kindly. “Suppose you come past the hospital tomorrow at four-thirty when I get off duty and I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, you’re an angel! If you could only see this pathetic boy, you’d do anything in the world to make him a little happier.”

Kitty tried not to seem too excited over her success when she went back behind the bar. Mrs. Evans was still talking to Ned when she joined them.

“The Harpers have a young baby,” she said almost bluntly.

He glanced at her quickly, and his sensitive face flushed. “Maybe you think it’s silly of me,” he apologized. “But it’s an awful feeling to be three thousand miles away from your wife and baby.”

“You’re not silly at all! I’d be thrilled to pieces to go to see the Harpers’ baby with you. They’re friends of Hazel Dawson. You know Ensign Dawson up at the hospital?”

“Sure. She’s always ready to help somebody.”

“The Harpers’ baby is a few days older than yours, but then they’d feel the same.”

“You’re so kind to go to all that trouble for me.”

“I’ll pick you up in our car tomorrow at four-thirty. I’m going over to get Miss Dawson anyhow. She said she’d go with us and make arrangements with the Harpers.”

“I just can’t thank you enough.” A smile actually brightened Ned’s face as he spoke.

While Kitty was still talking to him Vera came in with half a dozen girls. After she turned them loose in the hall she went behind the Snack Bar looking rather excited. Kitty suggested that one of the new arrivals dance with Ned, and when they had gone she said to Vera, “Hear you had quite a time.”

“You’re Not Silly at All,” Kitty Told Him

“I’ll say.”

“Were you alone when you got stuck?” asked Sally.

“Sure! You never get stuck when there’s anyone along to help.”

“Where were you?” asked Kitty.

“On that lonely stretch of road leading to the Thompson place. I went out there to get Nancy. Rain had made the sand all gooey this side of Waco bridge, and I got stuck fast.”

“In that dark, swampy road?” asked Sally.

“It would be there,” said Vera in disgust. “I worked till nearly dark trying to get out, then I started on foot toward Thompsons’. I was just about to cross the bridge over Waco Creek when I heard oars up the stream.”

“I’d have been scared stiff there by myself,” said Sally with a shiver.

“I was too mad over being stuck to feel scared,” Vera stated. “I yelled for that boatman to come and help me out—told him I was stuck.”

“Well?” said Kitty, sensing there was something very peculiar to come. “He did help you, of course.”

“Not that sneak! The minute I yelled for help those oars stopped and I never heard another sound.”

“Why, he couldn’t help but know it was a woman calling!” Kitty exclaimed.

“Sure, he knew it was a woman in trouble.”

“I can’t understand that,” said Sally. “I’ve lived round here all my life, and all the natives, white and colored, will go to no end of trouble to help a person out of a tight spot, ’specially women.”

“I figured he was no native, and up to some skulduggery,” said Vera. “I went on down the road and got Nancy Thompson’s brother, and we searched that creek with flashlights as far as we could go.”

“And found nothing?” asked Kitty.

“That sneak had cleared out while I was gone. If you ask me there’s plenty happening on this island that’s not printed in the papers.”

Secretly Kitty agreed with her. The incident made her only more determined not to relax her vigilance about certain peculiar people she was watching.

The next afternoon Kitty was waiting outside Hazel’s door at the hospital promptly at four-thirty. She soon heard the soft, but brisk step of her friend coming down the hall.

“Come in, while I freshen up a bit,” Hazel invited.

Kitty had never been in her new friend’s room, and felt a little flutter of excitement as she went inside. Hazel proffered the only rocker invitingly.

“You sit there and rest a minute dear, while I powder my nose and brush my hair. You look as fresh as if you hadn’t had your household to look after all day.”

“I must admit I haven’t had any idle moments,” Kitty confessed.

While Hazel was in the bathroom Kitty glanced around the room that had been made so homelike with many individual touches. On the dresser she noticed a picture of a handsome man, evidently slightly older than Hazel. Her heart sank with misgivings. Perhaps Hazel was already engaged to someone. For a moment she felt a pang of jealousy and resentment. But she simply couldn’t believe Hazel would lead her father on if she were in love with someone else.

“Who’s the gorgeous-looking man?” she asked frankly when Hazel returned to the room.

“That’s my brother.”

“Oh, yes, of course—your brother, Willard, I’ve heard you speak about.”

“But how did you know his name? I—I never mention him here.”

“The day I met you in the launch Lieutenant Cary spoke of him.”

“Oh-h!” Hazel’s tone became a degree cooler. “He used to be stationed here,” she added after a moment.

“So Dad said. He was sent here in his place, I understand.”

“I hope we don’t live to regret his asking for this post.”

“You—you mean Dad asked for this appointment?”

“Oh, beg pardon. I thought you knew that.”

“No, I didn’t. I knew nothing about it till Dad wrote me he was coming to Palmetto Island, and it would be a grand place for me and Billy to live.”

Why had both her father and Hazel asked to come here after the trouble Hazel’s brother had had? To cover her confused thoughts Kitty took the picture from the dresser and studied the face frankly. Now she could see a resemblance to Hazel. In that strong chin, firm mouth and the wide frank eyes she could find no evidence of one whose conduct might merit his being relegated to some obscure Naval station.

As she and Hazel went out to meet Ned Miller in the lobby below she was more convinced than ever that there was something mysterious going on, in which her father was deeply involved.

Hazel proved herself an understanding pal that afternoon. She made it seem the most natural thing in the world that Ned should want to see a tiny baby. Kitty thought she had never seen anyone so frightened and so awkward as Ned when he first took that little blanketed form in his arms. But with every passing minute his stiffness and embarrassment grew less. Before their brief call was over he had promised to carve the baby a wooden bowl and spoon for his first eating.

“I like to carve things,” he said. “I made one for my own youngster two months ago.”

He seemed to expand to new importance as he spoke. When Kitty and Ned left together Hazel stayed on for a longer visit with her friends. As they drove away Kitty remarked, “I didn’t notice till this afternoon that you’re one of the boys who work in the galley.”

“I like it pretty well there,” admitted Ned. “I like doing things with my hands. Glad they didn’t put me where I have to work at a desk or anything like that.”

“And it helps a lot when you like the people you work with,” said Kitty, not without an ulterior motive.

“My boss is fine—good natured as they make ’em.”

“Krome you mean? Chief Steward Krome?”

“Only one trouble about him—he snores like a steam engine. You punch him and wake him up, and he goes right back at it again.”

“Isn’t there a thin, dark fellow named Punaro down in the galley?”

“Yeah! He collects waste from over the hospital and does things like that. Looks after the kitchen garbage too.”

“I saw him over at the USO the other night playing chess with Lieutenant Cary.”

Ned sent her an odd look and said, “You did?” After an interval he added diffidently, “I’m not the kind to talk about people, Miss Kitty, but if you were my sister I wouldn’t want you to be letting him take you home from Canteen, or anything like that—not Punaro!”

“Thanks for the hint, Ned.” She wanted to ask him more but didn’t know how without betraying those she felt she had no reason to suspect. They parted in the lobby as Kitty turned off toward her father’s office. But she thought how odd it was—that at almost every contact she made, the tangled web of clues she was picking up became more bewildering.

CHAPTER EIGHT
WHAT’S IN A TITLE?

When Kitty told Hazel about the shortage of girls at the USO on that stormy night her friend said, “Stop by for me next time you go to Canteen. My evenings are rather lonely. I’ll be glad to help entertain the boys.”

“I’ll have to get a card for you, but that won’t be any trouble,” said Kitty.

However, Hazel’s remark about her lonely evenings left Kitty somewhat at sea. Her father was away from home several evenings a week, and she had thought he was spending them with Hazel. Now she felt she had been mistaken.

Next time Kitty was on duty at the Snack Bar she went over to the hospital for Hazel, and together they walked the five blocks to the USO hall. As they walked along the main street in the twilight they caught glimpses of the docks, with their dimmed boat lights at each street intersection.

“I love living here, don’t you?” said Kitty.

“Under different circumstances it would be quite an interesting post.”

“Under different circumstances?” Kitty’s tone implied her puzzlement.

“I’m in rather an awkward spot, you know. My brother had a very unpleasant time here—was blamed for something of which he was innocent.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Naturally I still feel the cloud hanging over me. I’ll never be quite happy till my brother is cleared.”

“Is there anything I can do? I wish I could help.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing anyone can do outside the service.”

Kitty wanted to ask for more details, but the tone of Hazel’s last remark suggested that the subject was closed. In fact she felt very much surprised that her friend had been as frank as she had about the matter.

At the USO hall they separated for a while, Hazel to help amuse the boys while Kitty went into the Canteen quarters. When she slipped off her coat and put on her apron, she went out to the bar to find Ned Miller waiting for her. He seemed as bright as a sunny day after a long rainy spell.

“Miss Kitty, you’ll never guess what’s happened!” he exclaimed.

“Your wife and baby aren’t flying to Palmetto Island already?”

“Oh, no, nothing so marvelous as that, but surprising enough.”

“Then spill the news, Ned, and don’t keep me in suspense,” she encouraged.

“The Harpers have asked me to be godfather for their son.”

“Oh, Ned, that’s super!”

“Imagine me a father and a godfather all in one week!”

Judy, Sally and Mrs. Evans drew nearer to add their congratulations to Kitty’s.

“You’ve all got to drink a hot chocolate with me to celebrate,” continued Ned proudly. “It’s on me this time!”

Mrs. Evans poured the chocolate, and topped it with an unusually generous spoonful of whipped cream.

“This is on the Canteen,” she said, and they all made merry over the great event.

“You must all come to the christening a week from Sunday at the little chapel a block from the hospital.”

Hazel came presently and took Ned off for some dancing. As Kitty watched them go there was a tender light in her eyes. How happy she felt to realize that she had made the sun break through the fog for at least one boy!

During a lull in business some time later she drew up a stool and watched the activities in the large hall. At the right in an open space around the piano a dozen or more couples danced while a marine kept the keys warm with his nimble fingers. In the space directly in front of the bar were tables where couples and foursomes played all manner of games. Some boys lolled on couches or in large armchairs with books or magazines, while others sat at desks against the wall, writing letters home, apparently unmindful of the confusion around them.

Presently Kitty’s survey was checked as her gaze came to rest once more on Lieutenant Cary playing chess again. This time the players were sitting so she could see the profiles of both men. Instantly she recognized the physician’s partner as the dark-faced boy, Punaro, whom she had seen on the bus that memorable night before the big fire at the cannery.

The last time she had noticed Cary here he was playing with Chief Commissary Steward Krome. She wondered why he was on such intimate terms with the galley staff. Presently she was aware that Hazel Dawson had returned to the bar and was sitting on a stool across the counter.

“Does Lieutenant Cary come here very often?” she asked.

“Only occasionally.”

“Does he always play chess with someone from the galley?”

Kitty sent Hazel a surprised glance. “Yes, both times I’ve seen him playing. The other night it was the Chief Commissary Steward, Krome.”

“I can understand that. Krome has his rank. But tonight he buddies with the boy who empties our wastebaskets.”

Kitty bent closer and lowered her voice. “Do you know anything about him—the Punaro fellow?”

Hazel showed surprise at the question as she countered, “Why do you ask? Do you know anything about him?”

“He was here the other night.” She thought of adding that they had come home on the same bus the night of the cannery fire, but caution silenced her. There were too many around who might have keen ears.

Brad came in later.

“You’re almost a stranger,” Kitty greeted him.

Hazel went off with one of the boys who claimed her for a dance, and Brad leaned closer.

“I was too busy to come sooner, but I wanted to get over here in time to see you home. Something to tell you.”

“I brought Hazel with me. We’ll have to take her back to the hospital before we can talk.”

“Sure.”

“Glad you came,” she added after a moment. “You can go with me to hunt up Chief Krome. He promised me that shrimp creole recipe.”

“Yeah! Sure, we want it for that picnic tomorrow.”

“They say the only way you ever get a recipe out of Krome is to go after it. He looks too easygoing to let the mild matter of a promise like that weigh on his mind.”

“Sure is nice of you Canteen girls to go down on the beach and fix that supper for us tomorrow. Ned Miller’s looking forward to it, too. You sure lifted his countenance, Kit.”

Kitty flushed. “Oh, I guess I got as big a kick out of it as he did.” There was an awkward pause and she looked about for something to change the subject. Finally she nudged Brad’s arm and whispered, “Take a look over in the south corner at those chess players.”

Brad glanced at them and whistled softly. “The trail grows warmer, Kitty.”

“Find out anything about Punaro?”

“Plenty. But we’ll save that till later. But when you see two suspected ones hobnobbing it begins to look as though something is brewing.”

An hour before closing time Kitty saw the chess players leave their board and go out. They hadn’t patronized the Snack Bar all evening.

That was one night Kitty was glad when it was time to go home. She had had no opportunity for a private talk with Brad for some time, and she had much on her mind. At the hospital they left Hazel at her door and took the elevator down to the basement.

“Surely am glad you came along, Brad,” said Kitty. “I wouldn’t like to be hunting up Chief Krome at this hour of the night by myself.”

There was no one in sight when they got off the elevator at the basement floor. “I’ve never been down here before,” Kitty remarked, as she followed Brad toward the Chief Cook’s quarters.

“Quite a nifty arrangement,” Brad explained. “Extending out front this wing of the hospital is a platform running right down to a dock over the water. Supply boats come almost right up to the building. Saves an awful lot in transportation of fuel and food.”

Kitty felt no particular interest in what Brad said. She was eager to get the recipe from Krome and return to the street where she and Brad could talk without fear of being overheard. Brad knocked on Krome’s door several times, but got no answer.

“Must be out,” Kitty said, disappointed.

They were about to turn away when Ned Miller came running down the stairs. “Looking for Krome?” he asked, seeing them outside the Chief Cook’s door.

“He promised me that shrimp creole recipe, and they say I’ll have to run him down to get it,” Kitty explained.

“I’ll go ask him for it for you,” offered Ned, eager to be of service to Kitty. “I saw him up in the recreation room as I came through, playing chess with Lieutenant Cary.”

“Oh, you did!” exclaimed Kitty.

But Ned was already hurrying back toward the stairs. They were about to follow when Brad said, “Come, while we’re down here I’ll show you the dock.”

Not wanting to be rude enough to tell him it didn’t interest her in the least, Kitty followed Brad toward the double doors that stood wide open at the end of the cement passage. There was only a shaded light outside. Her first impression was a confused one of several barges huddled against the dock piled high with boxes, crates, kegs and all manner of freight.

Then suddenly she saw a man at one of the barges. Her pulse quickened when she noted it was filled with refuse. The man had his back to them, pushing something onto the barge. It seemed to be a large box, but Kitty had only a glimpse for the man threw a strip of old sail over it and turned sharply at the sound of their footsteps. As he came toward them there was indignation in his very stride.

“What do you want here?” he growled.

As he spoke and came nearer the glow from the hallway, Kitty recognized Punaro, who less than an hour ago had been playing chess in the USO hall with Lieutenant Cary.

“We’re looking for Krome,” said Brad with aggravating nonchalance.

“He’s not down here,” stated Punaro. “You’ll find him up in the recreation room playing chess with Dr. Cary.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot,” Brad said, and Kitty wondered why his thanks was so profuse.

When they went down the hall they found Ned returning from above. “Chief said if I’d bring his recipe book he’d find the thing you want and let you copy it,” Ned explained. “He’s just about to checkmate Lieutenant Cary and can’t leave his game right now.”

When Ned went into Krome’s quarters Kitty whispered to Brad, “Did you notice anything queer out there?”

“Plenty.”

“Punaro throwing a strip of sail over a box on the barge?”

“You’d make a grand detective, Kitty!”

“And I noticed more, but we’d better wait till we get outside to talk.”

Lieutenant Cary sent them an unwelcome look when they went upstairs, but Krome was quite good-natured about the interruption. He handed Kitty his own pen and a bit of notepaper on which to write the recipe. He chuckled and advised her to spice it up sharply for the boys.

“What Do You Want Here?” Punaro Asked Them

When at last they were outside in the cool moonlight Kitty slipped her arm through Brad’s and whispered, “There’s something mighty queer going on.”

“You’re telling me!”

“I wouldn’t trust that Punaro one minute! I’ll bet you a hundred dollars he’s sneaking something out of the hospital on that barge.”

“What and where to, it now becomes our job to find out.”

“Did you notice anything queer about his knowing instantly where Krome was?”

“I’ll say. It looks to me as though Cary got Krome tied up in that chess game while Punaro does what he pleases in the galley.”

“That’s a wise deduction, Mr. Holmes, but Dr. Watson noticed something else.”

Brad laughed in spite of his uneasiness. “I’d call you the Sherlock Holmes and me Dr. Watson. You were the first to begin picking up clues.”

“Strange how so many things have come up to make me know something’s wrong. Even Ned Miller warned me the other day when I mentioned Punaro—that I mustn’t ever let him bring me home, that he’s not my kind.”

“Ned’s in a position to know, Kitty, right down there working with him. And say, this is what I wanted to tell you up at the Snack Bar.”

“Go ahead. I’ve been bustin’ to hear.”

“I noticed Punaro’s shoes the other day when he came in to empty our wastebasket. There’s a scorched streak across them, but he’s evidently tried to polish it away.”

“And you really think it could have been caused by a spark igniting spilled gasoline or kerosene?”

“It’s possible, yes. But doing work like his, it might have been spilled acid, too. I’m afraid the circumstantial evidence there is far too weak to blame him for the cannery fire.”

“Of course. But later developments seem to prove that my suspicions may not be entirely unfounded.”

“Say, you were going to tell me something else you noticed out there just now.”

“Do you realize he called Cary, doctor, not lieutenant?”

“You’re right—he did!”

“Everybody else round here calls him lieutenant—those who’ve only known him since he came into the service.”

“I’ll say your perception is very keen, Kitty. It seems proof that Cary and Punaro knew each other before they came into the service. I’ll try to find out where they both hail from.”

“Do, Brad, if you can. This thing is beginning to look very serious. We’ve got to find out what it’s all about.”

CHAPTER NINE
INTO THE MARSHES

Kitty had so much on her mind that night she couldn’t sleep until after one o’clock. She didn’t even hear the alarm clock next morning, and was roused by the sunlight streaming across her bed. She pulled on her bathrobe and ran to the kitchen.

“What time is it?” she asked Jane.

“Eight o’clock. Yo’ Pah done et breakfus and went to de horsepital.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Wa’n’t no use to bother you. You wus sleepin’ jus’ like a sho nuff kitten.”

“But there was something special I wanted to talk to Dad about this morning.”

“You’ll see him tonight.”

“But I’m going with a bunch of Canteen workers to fix supper for the boys on the beach late this afternoon.”

Kitty had just started back to her room when the phone rang. She found it was Hazel Dawson.

“Listen, dear, I heard you say once you always go to town on Saturday morning,” came her friend’s voice over the wire.

“Yes, I do. Is there anything I can get you?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much bother, I’d like you to get me a set of chessmen.”

“A set of chessmen?” Kitty could not hide her surprise. Chess had become intimately associated in her mind with Cary and his partners.

Hazel laughed. “In my old age I’ve suddenly decided to become a chess fan.”

“It does seem to be quite a fad around here,” admitted Kitty.

“I haven’t any way to get the money to you before you go.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Kitty. “What price do you want to pay?” She recalled that her grandfather’s ivory chessmen had been very valuable.

“Oh, the cheapest ones you can find will do for me, plastic or wood will be all right. I only want them so I can learn the game.”

As Kitty put down the phone after this unusual request, she wondered what was behind it. She had no doubt that Hazel’s motive in learning the game had some connection with Lieutenant Cary’s chess playing. Yet the two made no pretense at friendship.

Though she had missed her father at breakfast Kitty was determined to see him before she went to town, so she decided to go to the hospital. By nine she had eaten breakfast and was ready for the weekly shopping expedition.

“Is you gwine to tek Billy to town wid you?” asked Jane seeing Kitty dressed so early.

“Yes. He has to have a new pair of shoes. Hope I can get some non-rationed ones. He’s already used my last coupon.”

“Dat boy can sho stomp out dem shoes.”

“You’d better wake him up and give him breakfast by the time I come back. I’m going to run up to the hospital to see Dad a few minutes.”

All the guards and attendants at the hospital knew Kitty as the daughter of the Chief Pharmacist’s Mate. She always gave them a smile, a jaunty salute and passed in without comment. A few minutes later she slipped noiselessly into her father’s office. He was busy going over some order sheets with a junior officer, so Kitty sat down near the door till he was at leisure.

“See you in a few minutes, Kitten,” her father said when the petty officer went out and his stenographer came up with some letters to be signed.

Kitty thought how wonderful it was to live where she could occasionally drop in on her father at his work. He had not finished the letters when the door was opened wide and to her amazement young Punaro stepped in and picked up her father’s half-filled wastebasket. He didn’t see her till he turned to go back to the hall, where he had left the large canvas-sided container which he rolled along the halls to collect trash.

By the ominous look he sent her she knew instantly he recognized her as the same girl who had come upon him unexpectedly at the galley dock last night. Before he came back with the empty basket her father called her to his desk. He waited a moment till Punaro closed the door.

“What’s on your mind, Kitten?” he asked, dropping his professional manner like a mask.

“Plenty,” she said. “I don’t like that Punaro fellow coming into your office for one thing.”

Her father threw back his head and laughed. “Now, now, you mustn’t be suspicious of everyone who has a slightly olive cast to his complexion.”

“He has a very Italian name, too.”

“You seem to forget they’re fighting on our side now.”

“Yes, but some of them here are still friends of the Hitlerites.”

Knowing from experience that money could often make a person forget unpleasant things Mr. Carter took out his billfold. “Guess you’d like a little change for the trip to town.”

Kitty laughed. “You’ve never known me to refuse money, have you, Dad?”

“Not yet.” He handed her a bill. “You might get Billy that ball and mitt he’s been begging for. It’ll soon be warm enough for him to play outdoors all day. Maybe the ball will keep him from climbing so many trees.”

Kitty smiled. “He’s a regular monkey when it comes to trees. When I take him to the park he picks out the tallest and climbs up it like a cat.”

“I’m afraid Nina spoiled him, letting him climb that old magnolia in our yard back home.”

“Dear Aunt Nina, how I miss her.” Kitty sighed as she put the money into her purse. “Yours is the second order for playthings I’ve had this morning.”

“Why? Billy ordered something else?”

“Not Billy. Hazel Dawson wants me to get her a set of chessmen.”

“Hazel wants a set of chessmen,” he said, puzzled.

“Seems to be getting quite a fad. Lieutenant Cary plays every time he comes to the USO hall.”

“Oh.” Mr. Carter’s tone carried a world of meaning.

“Oddly enough it’s generally with someone from the galley. First it was Chief Krome and last night it was that young fellow, Punaro, who was in here just now.”

Kitty’s watching eyes caught the surprised look that came into her father’s face.

“Dad, how long has Punaro been in the service?”

“I don’t know. Two or three months, I imagine.”

She felt he was annoyed with her, but couldn’t keep from saying, “It doesn’t take so many months for them to show their true colors, does it?”

“Why so much interest in this raw recruit?”

Kitty Caught the Surprise on Her Father’s Face

“Some things have happened recently to stir my curiosity,” she answered evasively. Her father’s attitude repelled her further confidences, nor did she feel this was the place to talk too much. But she was determined to learn the one fact for which she had come.

“I must go now, Dad. But tell me one more thing.”

“Anything you want to know except military secrets,” he replied, becoming playful again, because she was so serious.

“Why do they haul the hospital refuse away on a barge instead of burning it in the incinerator as they do in other hospitals?”

“We had an explosion at the incinerator several weeks ago. For some reason they’ve been slow in getting it fixed.”

“I see,” said Kitty with a significant nod. “And in the meantime I suppose the garbage is hauled off somewhere in the marshes and burned?”

“That’s right.” Suddenly her father’s face became very serious, and he sent her a penetrating glance. “What are you driving at, Kitty, with all these strange questions?”

“Haven’t time to explain now,” she said evasively. For so long Kitty had had to solve her own problems, when her father was at distant stations, that she had not yet learned how to make a confidant of him. Nor did she want to run the risk of having him put a stop to her investigations. But she made bold to ask one further question.

“Do you know where they haul the garbage, Dad?”

He led her to the window and pointed across the marshes. “See that smoke on the horizon.”

“Yonder—way south?”

“That’s it. That’s where they burn it.”

“Why so far away?”

“We couldn’t stand the stench if it was too close. Even at that distance a southwest wind will bring the odor into my window. I’ll surely be thankful when they use the incinerator again.”

Kitty’s mind was clicking like a teletype machine as she left the hospital. She hadn’t used their boat in a week, and felt she was entitled to a little gasoline for explorations.

Billy looked forward to these weekly visits to town with keen delight, so Kitty didn’t have the heart to curtail his enjoyment. They paid their usual visit to the toy department at the dime store, and took a peep at the ducks in Bayshore Park. At noon they ate at a lunch counter, perched on high stools, which Billy adored. Afterward Kitty made her weekly food purchases at the grocery store on Bay Street, opposite where she always left her boat.

When the grocery boy had packed her things into the launch Kitty looked at Billy, gave him a knowing wink and asked, “Want to go exploring?”

“Oh, Kit, where?”

“You’ll see. ’Way into the marshes.”

Billy’s eyes grew round. “Into a cove or somepen, where pirates hide their booty?”

“No telling what we’ll find ’way off in the marshes.”

It was already one-thirty, and at five Vera was to pick Kitty up for the trip to the beach. She would have to do her exploring in that interval of time. She had made a careful note of the location of that smoke smudge on the horizon, as her father pointed it out from his office. However, Kitty didn’t feel sufficiently familiar with the marshy inlets to take a short cut to the spot. She decided the safest course was to return near enough to Palmetto Island to get her bearings from there, and seek out the channel through which the barge from the hospital traveled in going to the dump.

“Aren’t we gonner explore?” Billy asked in a disappointed tone when the smoke stacks of the Marine Base came into view.

“We’re going to turn off into this inlet right here,” Kitty reassured him.

A bit of wind was blowing, making whitecaps dot the deep green water. Though the weather was pleasant enough ashore, there was a sharp tang on the water that brought a glow to their cheeks.

In the narrowing inlet southwest of Palmetto Island, Kitty had to cut down her speed to keep from running aground in the curving channel. She had never been in this section of the marshes before, and she thought how easy it would be to get lost on the crisscross winding inlets that interlaced the marshy islands. Most of these green mud flats were treeless, but far off in the direction of that smoke smudge, which was her destination, the horizon was broken by palmettoes and pines.

“Where’s the pirate’s lair?” Billy finally asked, growing impatient to reach some destination.

“We’re almost there,” Kitty assured him. They were near enough now to see two or three spirals of smoke rising from a mound of rubbish dumped on a sloping shore.

Fortunately the wind was out of the east and carried smoke away from them, so Kitty had a clear view of the dump. She shivered to see buzzards circling above the smoking pile of refuse. What a fitting place, she thought, for spies to meet for their diabolical planning! Had some foreign agent met Punaro here this morning to take away that box of supplies she had noticed on the barge?

As she drew nearer she saw the rubbish was burning on an old oyster reef off the north end of a large island. The southern side was densely overgrown with palmettoes, pines, oaks and a tangled thicket of mangroves along shore.

“Get out the field glasses, Billy,” she ordered “and we’ll see if we can find any pirates.”

“Oh-h!” gurgled Billy. He made a dive for the stern locker where they kept odds and ends. It was all wonderful make-believe to him.

Kitty had slowed the launch, and before she took the glasses she cut off the motor and let the boat drift. A quick survey of the dump heap made her want to explore, even if it was a repulsive spot, but that was out of the question with Billy along. She was afraid to come even this close for fear he would pick up some germ. The very thought made her hand him the glasses and start the motor again.

Though it was already growing late she decided to take a turn around the small island. She was glad she had taken the chance when she reached the opposite side. There she found a deep, open channel, moving eastward toward the sea. Billy kept looking through the glasses toward the island while Kitty studied the channel.

“Looks deep enough to float a sub,” she thought.

“Kit, let’s go home!” exclaimed Billy, sudden terror in his voice.

“Why?”

“I saw somebody looking at us from the woods yonder. Maybe it was a pirate.”

Though Kitty took the glasses from her small brother’s hands she could see nothing in the mangrove jungle. Had it been only his vivid imagination, or had he seen someone? However, she did not tarry to find out as she gave her motor all the power it would take and headed for home.

CHAPTER TEN
THE BEACH PARTY

It was four o’clock by the time Kitty came ashore on Palmetto Island at a landing spot a block behind her house. She sent Billy home with an armful of bundles to bring Jane down to help with the unloading.

There was many a job to be done in the next hour, but Kitty had learned how to make every minute count. She put the groceries in the closet and the perishable food in the ice box, she planned the evening meal for her father and Billy, and had just put on her slacks when Vera drove up and honked the horn.

It was nice to sit back, temporarily free of responsibility, and enjoy her ride across the island with the competent Vera at the wheel. In the basket at her feet were the ingredients for Chief Krome’s famous shrimp creole, all except the shrimp which the boys were at that moment catching.

The drive to the beach carried them over a half dozen bridges, spanning marshy inlets. Finally they rolled off the pavement into a sand-rutted road, winding through a palmetto thicket. The station wagon turned off finally to the hard beach, and they rolled along within a few feet of the tumbling breakers.

As Kitty looked across the blue-green water mottled with whitecaps, she found it difficult to believe that enemy subs might, at that very moment, be lurking in the cool depths.

“Somebody sent down a boat off shore in the last twenty-four hours,” said Sally. “Look at that oily scum on the water, and the junk floating ashore.”

The receding tide had left part of a water-soaked bunch of bananas right in their path, while crates, bottles, empty boxes and splintered timbers bobbed up and down on the tide.

“We have just three hours to fix our chow, eat and get out of here,” said Vera, “or I’ll never get through that sandy road without lights.”

“I suppose it is too close to the beach to use headlights in there,” said Judy.

They all knew that no lights were permitted anywhere along the entire shore, and that the beach was even more carefully patrolled at night than in the day.

“I don’t care to get stuck on a sandy road again,” said Vera.

They were to meet the boys a mile downshore where an inlet cut through the beach to join the sea. The boys had already been shrimping a couple of hours in the shallows of this inlet. When the station wagon turned a sharp bend in the beach the girls saw a curl of smoke rising beyond a large sand dune that shielded the light of the campfire from possible watchers at sea.

Vera had to keep the car to a narrow strip of beach between the rolling dry dunes and the breakers. When the boys saw them pull up behind the dune they came trotting over to help unload.

“We’ve got the nicest mess of shrimp you ever saw,” boasted Ned Miller proudly.

“How long have you been here?” asked Kitty.

“Long enough to catch something more than shrimp,” retorted Jimmy.

“You’re not ahead of us,” Sally told them. “We saw rubbish washing up all along shore. A U-boat must have hit somebody out there.”

“We don’t claim we’ve located the U-boat,” admitted Ned, “but we did find an old bateau hidden under some mangroves.”

“At least five miles from any habitation,” added Jimmy.

“Oh, I thought they had something,” said Vera with a laugh. “If you had lived in this part of the country as long as I have, you’d be used to bateaux and old boats in all sorts of nooks.”

Kitty watched Brad’s face intently during this exchange, and finally their eyes met. His expression implied that he would tell her more later. There was no opportunity, however, in the next hour for them to talk privately. The boys were already preparing the shrimp for the pot, and Kitty quickly mixed the other ingredients.

The shrimp creole was soon cooking. In the meantime they sat on the sands around the campfire. Its warm glow was more than welcome in the biting salt air. Jimmy Barnes amused them with a hair-raising tale while they waited.

“The beach guard stopped to chat with us a few minutes ago,” Jimmy began.

The Coast Guard Station was several miles down the coast from the Marine Base. Kitty had seen very little of those men since she came to Palmetto Island.

“Jim asked the chap if he didn’t get lonesome down here,” put in Ned.

“‘Lonesome,’ said the guard, ‘why man, I’ve got a box seat at the livest show in America.’ Then he told us something that’ll make your eyes pop,” explained Jimmy. “About a week ago he said a sub was hit right in sight of Palmetto Island, and you’d never guess what they found aboard.”

“Cut out the suspense, Ned, and tell us what,” Vera ordered.

“Fresh bread wrapped in Bayshore Bakery paper.”

“No, not really!” exclaimed Kitty, recalling her interesting visit to the bakery, and the spicy little cakes each nutrition student had been given as a souvenir.

“Of course nobody can blame the Bayshore Bakery,” Jimmy hastened to say. “But it only goes to show that the U-boats are getting all sorts of supplies from our own towns. They say that bread was fresh—couldn’t have been more than a day old.”

“It’s hard to believe such things are going on,” said Lana Bright, her big brown eyes wide as she glanced anxiously toward the eastern horizon.

In the good old days there had always been steamers or small craft on the horizon, but now every ship that passed must be convoyed for protection against subs. Sally and Lana had been brought up on the southern coast and found it hard to realize that a death-dealing enemy could encroach on their childhood playground, as they had always considered the beach.

“And that’s still happening even after most people feel we’ve practically got the U-boat situation in hand,” commented Kitty.

“Yes, and when we take the complacent attitude that we’ve got any of this war business under control and sit down on the job there’s bound to be trouble,” stated Brad.

“That Coast Guard chap also told us about those oil tankers that were attacked right off this very shore last week,” continued Jimmy.

“I heard the firing!” exclaimed Kitty. “At first I thought it was thunder, but Dad said when he came home that a U-boat had been sunk out here.”

“And the guard saw the whole works,” Ned told them eagerly. “He said the tankers were going down-coast when the sub attacked them. In two minutes he had the Coast Guard Station over his walkie-talkie, and ten minutes later our planes were dropping depth bombs. And boy, they got that sub! I’d have given anything to be down here! Makes me wish I’d gone into the Coast Guard!”

After hearing all this Kitty felt still more uneasy about her experience earlier in the afternoon. Could it be possible that the man Billy had seen on the island was the same who owned that boat hidden in the mangroves? She had noticed no boat herself, but one certainly could have been hidden in the dense shrubbery that overhung the water.

Kitty was relieved when their supper was ready, and the hungry boys had been served. Vera poured the hot coffee, and Sally supplied them with fresh bread from the Bayshore Bakery.

“Makes you feel sort of funny, eating this bread and knowing the Germans have recently eaten bread out of the same kind of wrappers,” said Kitty, giving Brad a significant look as she handed him a high-piled plate.

“Let’s sit over on that palmetto log,” he suggested when she picked up her own plate.

“The Coast Guard Saw It All,” Ned Told Them

Other couples had paired off, and Kitty was glad that at last she had a chance to talk privately with Brad.

“What about that boat you saw?” she asked in a low tone when they were seated.

“Wish the others hadn’t spread the news around.”

“Do you think it has any connection with the mysterious business we’re trailing?”

“There’s no telling. If it leaks out at the hospital that people are getting wise to the skulduggery it may put a temporary stop to the dirty business and throw us off the trail.”

“Where did you see that boat?” Kitty asked.

“South end of that island—opposite where they’re burning the hospital waste.”

Kitty’s fork stopped in mid-air, and she stared speechless at Brad a moment. “Why Brad, I passed that very spot today.”

“You?” he exclaimed incredulously. “What were you doing there alone?”

“Not alone. Billy was with me.” Briefly she gave him an account of her day, beginning with the conversation in her father’s office. “Brad, I’m convinced Punaro is smuggling something out of the hospital with the garbage. Who knows but what he’s the one keeping these U-boats supplied with fresh bread, green vegetables and stuff like that.”

“They’re getting it from somewhere, and that’s a certainty,” stated Brad. He was silent a moment, then said anxiously, “But Kitty, you shouldn’t have gone off there in the marshes alone.”

“Billy was with me. You forget I was practically brought up in a boat, Brad. I’m never afraid on the water.”

“But it’s dangerous now. Promise me, Kit, you won’t ever go off like that alone again.”

She laughed at his fears, but her pulse beat a little faster because of his solicitude.

“I may have to sometime, Brad. But I’ll promise to be more careful.”

“Why, anything could have happened to you. That man could have fired from the mangroves, and nobody would ever have known what had become of you two.”

“But I had to know where that barge took the stuff, what the general situation was. I didn’t even think about being nervous—that is, not till Billy told me about seeing the man through our glasses.”

They were silent while they finished their supper, then Kitty said, “Brad, I’ve always heard—that spies come ashore from the subs in rubber boats.”

“So they do.”