CHAPTER IV
A LIGHT IN THE NIGHT
On entering the small, crowded beauty parlor Norma found only onevacant chair. She looked at the girl standing behind the chair.“Spanish,” Norma thought. And yet her eyes were set at a slant likethose of an Oriental. For all this she was decidedly not an Oriental.
“Oh, well.” Norma thought, “she looks capable. It will soon be time forrattling those trays again. And do I need to get my fingers wrappedround one of those mugs of strong coffee! Boy! Has this been a day!”
“Hair set,” she said, as she settled back in her chair.
Without a word the girl went to work. She was half finished before shespoke. Then in the most casual manner she said:
“Lieutenant Warren is a friend of yours?”
Norma was surprised. The door had been opened only a little way, andfor a space of seconds, yet this girl had seen. “Yes,” was hernoncommittal reply.
“It is always quite fine to have an officer for a friend. She can helpyou, tell you things, and guide you,” suggested the hairdresser.
“Yes—I—I suppose so,” Norma murmured.
“She told you about the Interceptor Control?” The girl’s whisperinvited confidence.
At once Norma was on her guard. “We talked about Boom Town,” shereplied evenly. “It’s interesting. Built so quickly, and all that. Yetit looks warm and cozy.”
“Boom Town. Oh! Yes, it’s quite grand.” These words were spoken withoutenthusiasm.
After that they talked about trivial things—clothes, shampoos, and theweather. Twice the strange girl led back to the Interceptor Control.Twice Norma led her away again.
“Now why would she, a hairdresser, want to talk about InterceptorControl?” she asked herself.
As she left the chair she was not a little surprised to see the tallrecruit, Lena, waiting to take her place. More surprising was the factthat as Lena’s eyes met the hairdresser’s, there appeared to passbetween them an instant flash of recognition.
“And Lena hasn’t been on the grounds a whole day!” she thought with astart.
“Spies!” her mind registered as she left the building. Then she threwback her head and laughed. “Spies in the heart of America!” shewhispered. “In a woman’s camp! I’m getting a spy complex—seeing ghostsunder the bed! What’s the matter with me?”
That evening, not wishing to retire at the “lights out” signal, shesought out the day room that is used at night, and found it.
It was a comfortable place, that day room. Half underground, it was notsubject to draft. A large round stove gave off a genial glow and plentyof heat. A large cushioned lounging chair awaited her.
Only one other girl was in the room. “Lena, the one who whispers in thenight,” Norma thought. “Guess she’s asleep.”
Lena was not asleep, for as Norma sank into her chair, she opened oneeye and drawled:
“Had a good day, didn’t you?”
“Just fine!” was the smiling reply.
“Hobnobbing with the brass hats.” Was there a suggestion of a sneer onLena’s face?
If it was there Norma chose to ignore it. “There don’t seem to be anybrass hats around this place,” she replied, good-naturedly.
“Oh! Aren’t there?” the girl exclaimed. “You just wait and—” At thatthe girl caught herself. “Well,” she finished lamely, “I’ll admit I’vebeen treated fine.”
“Tomorrow we get measured for our uniforms,” she added.
“Your uniform should need very little fitting.” Norma could not helpadmiring the girl’s look of perfect fitness and form as she stood up.
“I didn’t get it sitting ’round,” Lena laughed. “I’m going out for someair and a look at the moon. You’re rather a perfect thirty-sixyourself,” she said over her shoulder as she marched toward the door.
Norma wondered in a vague sort of way how Lena had got her training.She knew about her own. It hadn’t been easy.
After a time she began wondering about the moon. Seeing it shine overthe stables, the barracks and mess halls would be a pleasantexperience. She wasn’t dressed for the outdoors, so she stepped to thewindow and looked up. She did not see the moon. Instead, her eyes fellupon two shadowy figures. One was Lena. The other, too, was a girl.
“Just another raw recruit,” she thought.
But then the girl turned so the light of a distant lamp was on herface. She was the girl who had done Norma’s hair that afternoon.
“Should have been back in the city hours ago,” she told herself.
It all seemed very strange to her. Where had Lena known this girlbefore? Or had she? Why were they together now? Only time could tell,and perhaps time wouldn’t.
She was just thinking of retiring when Lena again entered the room.Seating herself before the fire she held out her hands to warm them.For some time neither girl spoke. At last leaning far over and speakingin a hoarse whisper Lena said:
“You know that little Italian girl?”
“Rosa?”
“Yes.”
“What about Rosa?”
“I think she’s a spy. I saw her flashing a light in the night. Her cotis by the window, you know,” came in Lena’s insinuating whisper.
“Oh! Do you really think so?” There was little encouragement in Norma’stone. “Who’s a spy?” These words were on her lips. She did not saythem. Nor, having said them, could she have given the answer.
* * * * *
Two days later found them all in uniform. And did they look grand!
“Oh! Millie!” Norma exclaimed. “You look like a million dollars!”
“Do I? Then I’m glad.” Millie beamed. “I was afraid I’d still look likea salesgirl.”
“How does a salesgirl look?” Betty asked.
“Oh, sort of dumb.” At that they both laughed.
“It’s the grandest outfit I ever had!” Millie exclaimed. “Such a soft,warm woolen suit. And such tailoring! And my coat! Oh gee! I feel likeChristmas morning!”
“The shoes weren’t marked down to two dollars and thirty-nine centseither!” said Betty. “I’ve had a lot of fine shoes, but none betterthan these.”
That afternoon a corporal formed them into a squad—Norma, Betty, Lena,Millie, Rosa and five other girls. Then they began to drill.
“One! Two! Left! Right! Left! Right,” the corporal called. “Squadright! Squad left! March! March! Doublequick! March!”
Some of the girls found it difficult to keep in step and maintain thatthirty-inch stride. But not Norma. The whole manual of drill was an oldstory to her.
Soon they were joined by other squads. Then, eager that her squad mightlook its best, when the Lieutenant who had taken them over was notnear, Norma began calling in a hoarse whisper the counts and changes.“Left! Right! Left! Right! Squad right! March! Double quick!” Theydrilled until many a girl was ready to cry “quits.”
When they broke ranks Lieutenant Drury singled out Norma’s squad.
“Say!” she exclaimed. “You girls are wonderful! Been practicing behindthe stable or somewhere?”
“It’s her,” Millie nodded toward Norma. “She keeps us going.”
“That’s swell. How come?” The Lieutenant turned to Norma.
“I knew it all before I was five years old,” Norma laughed. “My fatherwas an officer in the last war, and I am his only boy. He starteddrilling me when I was a mere tot. I liked it, so we kept it up. That’sall there is to it.”
“Well,” the Lieutenant laughed, “I guess there are many of us who areour fathers’ only sons. And by the grace of God we’ll make them mightyproud of us before this old war is done!”
That night in a corner of the day room Norma had a little time all byherself. Her father was home all alone now. The chair she had occupiedby the fire for so long was empty now, and would be for a long time.
“But I wouldn’t go back,” she told herself, b
iting her lip. “Not forworlds!”
And he would not want her back. She recalled his parting words at thetrain. “Norma,”—his voice had been husky. “For a long time I wanted ason. Now I’m proud to have a daughter to give for the defense of mycountry. Get in there, girl, and fight! Perhaps you’ll not be carryinga gun, but you’ll be taking a fighting man’s place. And I’m sure you’llhelp show those fine boys how a girl can live like a soldier and dielike one, if need be.”
“I’ll be back,” she had whispered, “when the war is won.”
That night Lena may have whispered in her sleep. She may even have goneout to talk with her hairdresser. If so, Norma knew nothing of it. Shewas too weary for that. She retired early. She did, however, remainawake long enough to twice catch the gleam of light from Rosa’s cot.She liked the little Italian girl, but—
Once again she recalled one question asked her back there in Chicago.She had been given a final examination before her induction into theservice. One of the women in that examining group, she had been told,was a psychologist. In the back of her mind all during the examinationshe had asked herself, “Which one is she?”
When a little lady with keen dark eyes had leaned forward to ask: “Ifyou suspected that one of your companions was a spy, what would youdo?”—a flash came to her. “She’s the psychologist.”
She had thought the question over, then replied slowly, “If I saw hersetting a fire or stealing papers I’d report her at once.”
“But if not?” the little lady had insisted.
“If I merely suspected that she was a spy, I’d wait and watch, that’sall,” had been her whole reply.
In the eyes of her examiners she had read approval. That’s what she wasdoing now—watching and waiting.
“All the same,” she told herself now, “I’m going to ask Rosa why sheflashes that light at night.”
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