“Oh, then it wasn’t Germans, hiding there till Beeson came back?”

“I may have been mistaken about the clothes, but anybody from the island could have seen us watching Beeson go ashore at his dock.”

Kitty Carter, Canteen Girl — Part 95

“That’s so,” Kitty admitted. “No doubt they have field glasses, too.”

Kitty Carter, Canteen Girl — Part 95

“It wasn’t likely to be anybody from the U-boats. They’d take too much risk coming ashore any time but at night.”

Kitty Carter, Canteen Girl — Part 95

“A sailor’s uniform,” she repeated. “Could it have been Punaro?”

“It’s possible. Of course Cary wears blue, too.”

“But I thought you said Punaro always brought the stuff out here in the early morning?”

“You forget this is Saturday afternoon. He’s off, too,” Brad reminded her.

She realized then how ghastly white he had grown. His lips had a bluish look, and he was trembling slightly in the chill wind. She was afraid of shock from the loss of blood, and hurried back to her motor. She must take him to the hospital as speedily as possible.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Kitty was in sight of the hospital the storm had reached gale proportions, and even the inland, sheltered waterways were whipped into tumbling whitecaps.

“Shall I go straight to the unloading dock behind the hospital?” she asked.

“Against regulations. Nothing’s supposed to come ashore there but supplies.”

She was afraid Brad couldn’t walk to the hospital from any of the small landing docks farther east, but she decided he could wait in the boat while she went to their house for the car.

“It’ll probably be better to go ashore somewhere else anyhow,” she told him.

“Wish I didn’t have to go back to the hospital just now,” he said. “If it gets around that I was shot in the marshes, Lieutenant Cary will be sure to hear about it—may put a crimp in drawing a noose around the criminals’ necks.”

“Why didn’t I think of that before?” said Kitty. “I’ll take you to our house. Surely Dad will be back from town by the time we get there. He’ll know what’s best to do.”

“I hate to be so much bother, but that does seem the most sensible thing. You can phone Dr. Williams. He’s the closest friend I have among the doctors. He’ll take care of the wound and keep his mouth shut, too.”

“I don’t have to report for duty till Monday. Nobody will get curious about me till then.”