  “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” Gale exclaimed, as if some urgent need had suddenly pressed in upon her. “IT’s all quiet now.” This certainly was true, at least for the moment. There was the sound of air battles dying away in the distance. “Okay,” Mac agreed, snapping on his flashlight. “Let’s have a look.” A moment later they stood staring at a deep pit dug in the ground by an exploding shell. “They missed my gun by at least a dozen feet,” Mac laughed low. “Pretty good precision bombing. Or is it?” “It may have been bad aim,” said Jimmie. “But it didn’t do your gun a bit of good.” He was examining a mass of twisted steel that had been Mac’s gun. “You can contribute that to the next scrap drive.” “I’ll have nothing to contribute.” Gale did not laugh. To her the things she worked with, tools, scissors, radios, just everything was real, almost a part of her. And her radar set had been blown to bits. “Come on,” said Mac, “Let’s see what we did to those Jap bombers. That nearest one we brought down should not be far away.” “No thanks.” Gale shuddered. “I’ll never look at a wrecked plane if I can avoid it. I don’t mind helping to shoot down. That hardly seems real—sort of a game. But the results! I’ll leave them to others.” “As you like it,” Mac agreed, in a friendly voice. Mac and Jimmie walked away, but the girl stood there staring at the hole in the ground as if trying to convince herself it was really there. Then suddenly she exclaimed: “Oh! Good grief! I nearly forgot!” At that she threw on her flashlight to begin circling that black hole. Like a reaper mowing a field of grain, she covered just so much ground with each circle of her light. In the midst of her fifth circle she paused to exclaim: “Oh! Good!” Bending over she picked something up to thrust it deep in her pocket. She had been at this for some time with no further discoveries, when suddenly she caught the gleam of another light moving about the edge of the palm trees. Curious, with a little suspicion welling up in her being, still pretending to search, she wandered in the direction of that other light. The mysterious gleam wavered about on the ground for a space of seconds, then blinked out. Instantly Gale lifted her light, at the same time clicking on a device for doubling its power. The result, considering the time and the place, was rather startling. Within the circle of light, blinking but apparently unmoved, stood a tall, dark complected young woman. Her hair and eyes were very black. She was dressed in a long silk gown of deep purple, dark as night. “What are you doing here?” Gale asked, still advancing. As if to meet her challenge, the woman flashed on her own light and allowed it to play upon the American girl’s face. “Oh! You are one of those lady soldiers. So strange.” The woman spoke in low, musical tones. Her English was perfect, but she spoke with a peculiar accent. “I am a WAC,” said Gale. “And I still want to know what you are doing here. These are military grounds. Only those in uniform are allowed to be here without military escort.” “This is my country!” the woman replied sharply. “I go where I please. There has been a bombing. Is it not so? I find the results of these bombings of intense interest. Why should I not observe them?” “Because it is against military orders,” Gale snapped. “You are not of the Military Police. You are only one of those women who were sent because there are not enough men in America to fight a war.” There was a suggestion of scorn in the woman’s voice. “I am not a member of the military police,” Gale replied in a steady voice. (Inside she was seething with anger.) “I can, however, report you, and shall do so unless you leave the grounds at once.” “In that case I shall go. But without question, we shall meet again.” The woman laughed mirthlessly. “I am known to your colonel and many others of some importance.” At that the woman in purple gathered up the edges of her long gown and proudly marched away into the night. “I got what I wanted,” Gale thought. “Wonder if it’s what I wanted, after all?” At that she resumed her circling search, but without visible results. So interested was she in her search that she started violently when a voice said: “What are you looking for?” “Oh! It’s you, Jimmie Nightingale!” she exclaimed. “Sure!” Jimmie grinned. “But if it’s your radar set you’re looking for, you might as well forget it. All you’ll find won’t help you much.” “No. It won’t help me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. He was very near her now. “But it might help someone else a lot.” “What do you mean?” “You know about radar, don’t you?” “A little.” “It’s a marvelous invention. The Navy has used it to locate enemy boats thirty miles away, at night, in a thick fog. Yes, and has sent the boats to the bottom before the Japs knew they were anywhere near.” “Yes, I know,” said Jimmie. “And I’ve been told that the fellow who caught the first hint of the Jap planes approaching Pearl Harbor was experimenting with radar. And so, what about it?” “Lots about it,” Gale whispered. “Our enemies have radar sets of a sort, but not nearly as good as ours. We have secrets in our radar sets that they don’t know about. You’d find them, the three most important ones, done up in three gadgets,—none of them very large. See this?” She held up the things she had picked up only a short time before. “That’s one of them. That bomb tore it from my radar cabinet. It’s almost perfect still, for all that.” “I see what you are getting at.” Jimmie’s eyes brightened. “If our enemies found those trinkets scattered around here they’d know the secrets.” “That’s right. Please help me find the rest of them.” “Okay. Let’s go.” He snapped on his light. * * * * * * * * “Boy! Oh boy! We sure messed up those two bombers!” a voice exclaimed a moment later. It was Mac, just back from his tour of inspection. “Gale, old girl!” he exclaimed, “You’ll get a medal this time, whether you like it or not.” “If I do, I’ll trade it for a new radar set,” she replied soberly. “Oh, you’ll get that new radar set and a swell place to use it,” Mac exclaimed. “Radar experts better than you just don’t happen. You two wait here a bit.” Mac’s voice dropped. “I’ll get in my jeep and spin around to make a report. The phone’s dead.” “Don’t hurry back,” Jimmie chuckled. “We’ve got an appointment with destiny.” At that Mac hurried away and the two of them, Gale and Jimmie, continued their search for the secrets of radar. For a full half hour, with flashlights painting circular patterns of light on the grey earth, they continued the search. Twice Jimmie came to her with the query: “How about this?” Both times the reply was: “Nope. That’s not it.” The third time was the charm. “Jimmie!” she cried. “That’s really one of the secrets of radar! It’s in perfect condition, too! Oh! Jimmie! You’re a jewel!” “I’m glad you think so,” he replied soberly. “I was afraid you’d think I was a heel the way I dragged you into that raid shelter a while back.” “I—I didn’t like it,” she admitted. “But that’s all forgiven now.” “Really,”—his voice was husky—“I did just the right thing. In war, you have to be daring but must never be reckless. Your life, Gale, is the one priceless thing you have to give to your country. Your radar set, your car, my plane,—all that we have and use, can be replaced. When you and I are gone, it’s final. So for your family’s sake, for Uncle Sam, and for me, save yourself for a good long fight.” “Jimmie,” she whispered, “That’s a grand speech. I won’t forget it, ever.” “But there’s one more secret of radar lying around loose. We just must find it,” she whispered. “It may be gone for good,” was his answer. “But we can try.” That is just what they did for another quarter of an hour, but without success. Then Mac came rattling back in his jeep. “What’s up?” he called when he saw their circling lights. “Gale lost the three secrets,” was Jimmie’s reply. “We’ve found two of them, but the third is still missing.” “Skip it,” said Mac, when this puzzle had been taken apart for him. “This has been a hard day. We need sleep. Here comes the guard. Not a soul will be allowed on the grounds before sunrise.” “I saw a woman,” Gale began. “Oh, sure,” Mac broke in. “I’ve seen a lot of them. Some I wish I’d never met. Come on. Hop in. Let’s go.” “Here comes the guard” was right, and there was no mistaking its coming. A jeep came careening around a cluster of palm trees. In it rode four doughboys singing at the tops of their voices. “Oh, we won’t go home until morning, we won’t go home until morning, we won’t go home until morning, and that is Irish too.” “Any smart woman could tie and blindfold that bunch,” Gale grumbled. “All right. Stick around and try it,” Mac challenged. “Or else climb into this jeep.” Gale capitulated. She and Jimmie climbed in and they rattled away. But even as she rode through the shadows, Gale could close her eyes and see the tall, stately figure of that woman in purple. |
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