Fifty seconds is not a lot of time but Sally had taken her chute training seriously. In just that many seconds she did several things. She pulled her ripcord, waited breathless, then felt the pull of the opening chute.

Finding that she was facing the wind, she turned herself about. Looking down, she judged that she would hit the water only fifty yards or so from Major Storm’s rapidly vanishing plane. Catching the raft by its edges she held it before her and waited. Ten seconds later, as the lapping waves reached for her, she did a sort of swan dive and landed flat with the raft beneath her.

“Four-point landing.” She laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation, freeing herself from her parachute harness.

Rearing up on her elbows, she looked for the plane.

“Gone!” she cried in dismay.

Just then she saw a hand go up. Silent Storm was doing his best.

Throwing herself flat on the raft and using her hands for paddles, she threw all her strength into an effort to reach him.

Even so, weakened by his efforts and the pain his back gave him, he had gone down once before she reached him.

A brief struggle followed, and then he lay on the raft and stared up at the sky.

“You—you shouldn’t have done it.” He talked with difficulty. “I’m really not worth it. Shouldn’t have gone up. But flying somehow gets into your blood.”

“I know,” she replied quietly. “It’s all right. I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. Somehow I thought that parachuting was a good thing to know. Now I’m sure of it. You’ll be fine when you get your breath. Danny will send out a motorboat.”

They were both wet to the skin. That didn’t matter too much. There was a warm land breeze from the shore. Stripping off their sodden jackets, they allowed their thin cotton shirts to bag and flutter in the breeze.

“I’ve often dreamed of being on the sea in one of these rubber rafts,” he mused. “Men have lived in them for weeks.”

“It wouldn’t be bad if the weather were always like this.” She leaned back in lazy comfort.

“It’s rather rough on me, this experience,” he said at last.

“It’s too bad you lost your plane.”

“Oh! It’s not that. I could buy another. Thing is, I’ve really proved to myself that I’m no good for flying. I went out cold right up in the air. I came out of it in time to save myself, but not my ship. Even so, if it hadn’t been for you I’d have drowned.”

“You’re too important to be taking such needless chances.” There was a note of kindness in her voice.

“Yes. I suppose you’re right, but I have so wanted to be back there in the islands with my friends, fighting it out with those unspeakable Japs. I kept sort of kidding myself along, but now—”

“Now you know the truth and the truth shall make you free.”

“Ah! So you’re a preacher?” He laughed good-naturedly. “Well, I don’t mind. What’s the rest of the sermon?”

“You’ll have to make new friends where you are. You’ve made some already. I am one of them, ‘one of the least of these.’”

“Far from that. One of the greatest. I prize your friendship.”

“Thanks.”

“But you have asked to be sent away, on a ship.”

“I’ll come back, I hope.”

“Oh, yes.” His voice rose. “I meant to tell you. It’s more than half arranged already. There’s a new type of fighting ship going out with a convoy in a day or two. She’s a small airplane carrier built specially for convoy duty.

“But,” he hastened to add, “you’ll not whisper a word of this.”

“Of course not.”

To herself she thought: “That must be Danny’s ship. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I were to sail on his ship!”

This hope was lost for the time, at least, for Storm went on: “This is the ship’s maiden voyage. She will carry a crew, all men. But if all goes well on the following trip it is planned to use some women nurses and a number of WAVES for secretarial work, storekeepers, radio and communications.”

“A testing trip?”

“Exactly. I have already put in a word for you. I hated that for I wanted both Nancy and yourself on my own force. But there’s that secret radio.”

“Yes, there’s the radio,” she agreed with enthusiasm. “We’ll work it out together. I have two sets. I’ve already written C. K. asking permission to leave one with you in case I am sent across. That way, we can try it out.”

“It’s good of you to suggest it, but don’t hope for too much. There is a lot of radio silence when you’re on convoy duty. It’s necessary, you know.”

“That’s just it,” she exclaimed. “If we get in a really tight place and don’t dare use the regular radio we can switch to our secret radio. You could stand by with your set at regular hours, couldn’t you?”

“Certainly.”

“Then it’s all arranged. Don’t you see, if you and I can work out this secret radio, if it turns out to be a really big thing, it will make up for the other things you want to do and can’t!”

“You’re wonderful!” he exclaimed. “We’ll do things together!”

“Look!” she exclaimed. “Here’s a small flashlight attached to the boat, yes, and a fish line with artificial bait attached!”

“We’re all set for a long sail,” he laughed. “At least the flashlight will come in handy for signaling our rescuers. It’s getting dark.”

Sally tried the flashlight. It worked. The line and tackle too was tried and with rather startling results.

After unwinding the line Sally propped herself up on her knees, then gave the bright nickel spinner a fling well out over the dusky blue waters. She drew it in, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

“Ah!” he murmured. “I see you are a fisherman.”

“Not an expert,” was her modest comment, “My father loves to fish. I go with him to the lakes sometimes. We cast for pike and bass and sometimes a big land-locked salmon.”

“Then there’s a battle.”

“A wonderful battle. I love it!”

She gave the spinner one more fling, this time far out from the boat. Scarcely had she begun speeding up her pull, when suddenly she all but pitched head foremost into the sea.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, seizing her by the waist and pulling her back. “Not so fast!”

“He—help!” she exclaimed. “I’ve got something big!”

Reaching around her he grasped the line and together they pulled.

“Now!” he breathed. “I’ll pull and you roll in the line. Now!”

He heaved away and she rolled line. The fish came, sometimes slowly, sometimes faster. A quarter of the line was in, half, two thirds, and then—

“Oh! Give him line!” she exclaimed. “He’ll have us both in the water.”

They gave him line, then started pulling in. Three times this was repeated. At last, apparently worn-out, the fish came all the way in.

“Give us a light,” Storm said, as the fish came close to the boat. “Let’s see what we have.” She switched on the small flashlight. “Ah! A small tuna! A beauty!” he breathed. “We must have him.”

“A small one!” she exclaimed.

“Perhaps twenty pounds.”

“How big is a big one?”

“Five hundred pounds is a nice size. We—”

“Watch out!” His words rang out sharply.

She dodged back. There had been a sudden white flash in the water. Then the line gave a great yank.

“A shark! A bad one!” he exclaimed again. “He got our fish—”

“No, the fish is still there. Pull him in quick!”

The fish came flapping into the boat.

“All here but the tail,” was his comment. “Baked tuna is not half bad. We’ll have a feast.”

For a time after that they sat watching the waters.

The shark did not return. The night really settled down. The city’s lights painted a many-colored picture against the wall of darkness beyond, and all was still.

Out of that stillness came the chug-chug of a motorboat.

“They’re coming for us,” she said huskily. She did not know whether to be glad or sorry.

“It’s nice to have been with you,” he said when, an hour later, he let her out of a taxi at her hotel door. “Thanks for saving my life and all that.”

“It’s been fun,” she said. “It really has. Think I’ll resign from the WAVES and join the life guards.”

“Oh, yes!” he exclaimed, with one foot on the running board. “Don’t forget we have one more dinner date. Our tuna catch must be honored. Shall we say tomorrow evening?”

“That will be fine.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“If I hear from C. K. and have his permission,” she added, “I’ll bring over the secret radio.”

“Good! You can give me a few lessons regarding its operation.”

“And we’ll have a listen-in at the sub wolf-packs.”

“If that’s what it is. And here’s hoping.”

“Here’s hoping!”

“Good night!”

“Good night!” His taxi rolled away.

“It’s a strange world,” she thought as she walked up the marble steps.