CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DANNY'S BUSY DAY
Before falling asleep that night Sally found two faces appearing anddisappearing before her tired eyes. By drawing on her memory she hadbeen able to recall the face of Erma Stone, the Skipper's secretary.Erma was tall and dark.
"Rather foreign-looking," she told herself. She dismissed the idea thatshe might really be a foreigner and, perhaps, a spy. Foreigners couldnot join the WAVES, and on such a mission as this all members would bechosen with great care.
"She's smart and has been successful," she thought. "For some reason shedoes not like Nancy and me. It may be pure jealousy because of thefavors just shown us, or it may go much deeper than that. I'll be on myguard."
The second face that seemed to hang on the black wall of darkness wasthe smiling countenance of Danny.
If she was troubled about Danny, as indeed she was, she might wellenough have put her mind to rest for, at the moment at least, Danny wasdoing very well indeed. He was fast asleep.
Never given much to worrying, he had munched some iron rations, then, asdarkness fell, had spread his, heavy coat over him and, using the sideof the craft as a pillow, had drifted off to peaceful slumber.
His awakening was rude and startling. Something hard and wet, like awadded-up dishrag, had struck him squarely in the face.
He came up fighting and clawing. One hand caught the damp and slimything. The thing bit his fingers but he hung on.
After dragging himself to a balanced position, he gave both hands toconquering the intruder.
"Feathers," he muttered. "A sea-bird. Food from the sea." At that hefelt for the creature's neck, got one more bite from the iron-like beak,then put the wandering bird to rest with neatness and dispatch.
Hardly had he accomplished this, when, with all the force of a bigleague baseball, a second object struck him squarely in the chest.Completely bowled over, he barely avoided going overboard. This intruderescaped.
After searching about, he located a small flashlight. He started castingits gleams over the sea. All about him the black waters seemed alive.
"Birds!" he exclaimed. "Thousands of them!"
He had not exaggerated. A great host of sea parrots, beating the waterwith their tough little wings, were making their way south from theirsummer home.
Three more of them fell into his small boat and were added to hisslender larder.
"I must make the most of everything," he told himself stoutly. "Men havelived for weeks on such a raft as this."
At that, after watching the last ugly little traveler pass, he once moredrew his heavy coat over him and lay down to peaceful sleep.
* * * * *
Next morning Sally awoke with mingled feelings of joy, sorrow, and fear.She was glad that the secret radio had proved to be so great a boon. OldC. K. could die happy. He had achieved a great success and this wouldnot go unrewarded.
She was sorry about Danny. She would miss him terribly. "It's not a caseof love," she told herself almost fiercely, "We're just good pals,that's all." She did not believe in that word love. It could stand forso much and so little. A stuffy night on a dance floor--that, for some,was love. Men loved their ladies so well they killed them so no one elsewould get them. Bah! The word might as well be marked out of thedictionary. Perhaps the Old Man's yeoman thought she was in love withDanny. Who could tell?
Danny Watched the Last Little Traveler Pass]
It was this same yeoman, Erma Stone, who sent a shudder running throughher being.
"I won't think of it!" She sprang from her berth to turn on the secretradio. Turning the dials, first this one, then that, for some time, shecaught nothing.
"Subs are far away this morning," she reported to Riggs in the radioroom, as she passed on her way for coffee, bacon, and toast.
"That's fine, Sally!" he beamed. "Keep up the good work. As long as theweather remains fair that secret radio of yours will be your assignment,yours and Nancy's. Don't sit over it all the time, but tune in for a fewminutes every hour. We can't afford to take chances."
"Okay, Chief," was her cheerful reply.
"If the weather gets nasty, we may need your help," he added.
"It better stay fair." Her brow wrinkled. "Danny's out there somewhere."
"The storm gods don't care for Danny," he replied soberly. "Nor for anyof the rest of us."
"Riggs," she said, coming close and speaking low, "do you know anyreason why the Captain's yeoman should not like me?"
"Erma Stone? No, why? Doesn't she like you?"
"I'm afraid not."
"You never know about women." Riggs looked away. "If one gets a grouchon me I keep my eyes peeled, that's all."
"Thanks, Riggs. One thing more, do you think they will send a plane backto look for Danny?"
"No."
"Why?"
"We've come too far since then. Besides, a plane rising from our shipmight catch the eye of some sub commander. That would be just too bad.This is a mighty important convoy."
Sally drank her coffee in a cloud of gray gloom. There was nothing shecould do for Danny, absolutely nothing. But when she came out on thedeck, the sun was shining brightly, gulls were sailing high and allseemed at peace. Since there was work to be done she snapped out of herblue mood and stepped into things in the usual manner.
That night, since the weather was still beautiful and no dangersappeared to threaten, the Captain authorized a dance for the fliers, thesailors off duty, the nurses, and the WAVES.
Some of the sailors had organized an orchestra of a sort, two fiddlers,two sax players, and a drummer.
To Sally this seemed to offer an hour of glorious relaxation. She loveddancing and did it very well, too. It seemed, however, that a wholeflock of gremlins had joined the ship, just to disturb her peace ofmind.
The Captain was on hand to lead off the first dance, and chose her ashis partner.
She wanted to say: "Oh, Captain! Please! No!" But she dared not. So theyled off the dance. It was a glorious waltz. The boys jazzed it a little.Still it was glorious.
The Old Man was a splendid dancer. She lost herself to the rhythm andswing of the music until, with a startling suddenness, her eyes metthose of Erma Stone.
From the shock of that flashing look of hate she received such a jolt,that, had not the Skipper held her steady, she must have fallen to thefloor.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Dizzy? I shouldn't wonder. You've beenworking rather hard and had a shock or two." That was as close as hewould come to speaking of Danny.
"It's nothing!" Summoning all her will power, she pulled herself backinto the swing. And so the dark siren was forgotten, but not for long.
* * * * *
Out on the wide open sea Danny had had a busy day. Where he was the suncame out bright and hot. After breakfast he began studying hiswatermaking machine, and, in due time, had water that was a littlebetter than city water and not as good as that from the old oaken bucketon his uncle's farm.
After that he skinned and cleaned his birds. Then he sliced the meatthin and spread it out on the edge of the boat, where the sun shone hot,to dry.
"That will do for dinner tonight," he told himself. "If I only had acookstove I'd get along fine."
He would want something for supper. Perhaps a fish would do.
After attaching a lure to his line he cast out into the deep. At thethird cast a gray shadow followed his lure halfway in. Then, rising tothe surface, it thrust out a fin like a plowshare.
"Huh!" He hauled in his line. "Seems to me this isn't Friday after all."He thought what would happen if that shark threw one flipper over theside of his raft.
"It's always something, but it ain't never nothin'," he murmured.
Setting his coat up as a shade, he lay down to avoid the sun. And therewith the raft lifting and falling beneath him, he fell to musing on thewidth of the o
cean, the number of ships passing that way, and theprobability of a storm.
In the midst of this his eye caught a sudden gleam of light. A darkcloud was rolling along the horizon and from it came an ominous roar.
Apparently Danny need no longer wonder about the probability of a storm.The flash of lightning which had attracted his attention, together withthe rolling thunder which accompanied it, made a squall, at any rate, adistinct possibility.